Ruins

There might be buildings, or plastic residue, or something to say that we existed, but nothing to say why. Nothing to say what made us worth remembering.

I could go, she thought again. I could find Samm, or Xochi or Isolde or Madison. I could see Arwen one last time. I could find Marcus.

Marcus.

He wanted to marry me, and I wanted him. What changed? I guess I did. I had to find out what I was, and what I meant, and now I know that I’m nothing. Just another girl who can’t save the world.

Well, not unless I damn it.

Marcus wanted to accept the end of the world, to enjoy our time together because it was all the time we had. Was he right? I said no, and I left, and what do I have to show for it? I’m just as lost and hopeless as I ever was—more so now, because I’ve tried and failed.

But at least I tried.

And Samm. He taught me to accept as well—not the end of the world, but the end of myself. To sacrifice myself because it was the only moral choice when every other option was too terrible to consider. I made that choice, and I gave myself up, and yet here I am, no better off than before. The world is still ending. The heat of our presence is still fading from the Earth.

But even that’s not true: The world ended thirteen years ago, and now the human race, and the Partials with us, are nothing but an afterimage. We’re dead already, like a severed head still blinking on the ground.

I’ve never given up on anything, Kira thought. But I’ve always had options I could follow. Other choices I could take, and roads I could try, and . . . something. Do I have any of that now? Is selling out my people, my family, the entire human species, really the only answer? Can I live with myself if I do this?

Can anyone live at all if I don’t?

She put her hand on the doorknob, gripping it firmly, feeling the smooth metal curving in the palm of her hand. It was time. It was now or never.

She let go of the knob and backed away a step.

She backed away another.

If extinction is the only option left, she thought, the choice you would never consider becomes the only moral choice you can make. Slavery is hell, but it’s not annihilation. We could still come back. Sometimes the wrong choice is still right.

But sometimes it’s just wrong.

She took another step back.

The human race is more than blood and bones, thought Kira. The Partials are more than a double helix and an engineered pheromone. These are people; these are people I know. This is Samm and Xochi and Madison and Haru and Arwen and Isolde and Marcus and everybody I’ve ever met, everybody I’ve ever loved or hated or anything. It’s Vale and Morgan. It’s me.