Partials

He looked at Kira for a moment, fixing her with his eyes, then turned to the senators and drew himself up, standing as tall and proud as he could. “We’re dying.”

Kira’s eyes went wide; the entire room was shocked into silence.

“Like you, we can’t reproduce, though ours is an engineered sterility built into our DNA—a fail-safe to keep us from getting out of hand. That never bothered us before because we don’t age, either, so there was never any danger of us disappearing. But apparently there’s a fail-safe for that, too.”

Dr. Skousen regained his voice first. “You’re … dying? All of you?”

“We discovered ParaGen designed us with an expiration date,” said Samm. “At twenty years, the process that halts our aging reverses, and we shrivel and die within weeks, sometimes days. It’s not accelerated aging. It’s decay. We rot alive.”

Kira’s mind reeled. This was the great secret he’d never dared tell—that the Partials had a ticking clock, just like the humans did. That’s why they wanted a truce. She was too shocked to move, but looked at the senators, trying to guess what they were thinking. Kessler was smiling, but Hobb and Weist were staring at Samm with shocked eyes and open mouths. Delarosa looked like she was trying not to cry, though Kira couldn’t tell if they were tears of joy or sorrow. Weist was mumbling under his breath, his mouth moving almost as if he didn’t realize it. Mkele was stone faced and silent.

“They’re dying,” said Kessler, and Kira nearly recoiled from the vicious glee in the woman’s voice. “Do you realize what this means? The first Partials were created in the third year of the Isolation War, which was … ten years before the Partial War. Twenty-one years ago. The first wave of them would have started dying last winter, and the youngest have what, two years left? Three at the most? And then they’ll be gone forever.”

“Everyone will be gone forever,” said Samm, and Kira felt more emotion in his voice, more earnestness, than she’d ever felt before. “Both of our species are going extinct—every sapient life form on the planet is going to die.”

“Our shelf life is longer than yours,” said Delarosa. “I think we’ll take our chances on our own.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” said Kira, finally finding her voice. “Without them there is no cure.” She looked at Samm, finally understanding his pleas. “We have to work together.”

Samm nodded. “You can have babies, but they die of RM; we’re completely immune, but we can’t reproduce. Don’t you see? We need each other. Neither species can beat this alone.”

“Think what this will do for morale,” said Hobb. “Once the people hear this, they’ll … they’ll declare it a holiday. A new Rebuilding Day.”

“What is wrong with you people?” Kira demanded, struggling to stand before collapsing heavily back into her chair. “He thought you’d kill him when you heard his secret, but it’s worse.”

“We were always going to destroy it,” said Mkele. “That was never in question.”

“What this means now,” said Delarosa, “is that we’re going to do it in public, where this news can get out and do its job: unifying the human race.”

“Try to see the larger picture,” Hobb said to Kira. “You’re trying to save a group of people who are actively killing one another in the streets. Do you think a treaty with the enemy is going to change that? If they won’t even listen to us, what makes you think they’ll do anything for a Partial?” Hobb leaned forward, earnest and intense. “The Voice were calling for our heads long before the Partial showed up, and if word gets out that we’re hiding one, it will only get worse. The people are going to want answers; they’re going to need answers. And they need us to provide those answers, because when we provide them we’ll win the people back. We’ll have control of the island again; we’ll have peace again. We know you want peace.”

“Of course,” said Kira, “but—”

“Be careful,” murmured Delarosa, looking not at Kira but at Senator Hobb. “What are you telling her?”

“She can help,” said Hobb. He fixed Kira with eyes so deep and blue she felt herself caught by them, drawn in like water in a glass. “You’re an idealist,” he said. “You want to save people; we want to give you that opportunity. You’re also intelligent, so you tell me: What do the people want?”

“They want peace,” said Kira.

“Nobody blows up a building because they want peace,” said Hobb. “Try again.”

“They want…” Kira watched Hobb’s face, wondering where he was going with this. What do the people want? “They want a cure.”

“Too specific.”

“They want a future.”