Parched Read Online Free PDF Page A

It makes you feel like you’re in a completely different world. Ling’s scratch is the same kind I traded for Mack. When she presses her thumb and forefinger into one corner, it begins glowing a familiar deep amber.
    â€œShow me the Simutech file.” A silent holo materializes between us—a colorful, shifting cloud. There’s no mistaking who’s in it. Uncle Abel is speaking passionately with a man wearing a flowing yellow robe. I recognize him instantly: Gyan, leader of the Trust. Abel waves his hands emphatically as he talks, while Gyan’s fingers are clasped behind his back, gaze directed straight ahead. They’re heading into Simutech itself; I catch sight of the company slogan glowing above the imposing main entrance:
How the Future Feels
.
    With a small wave of her hand, Ling flicks the holo to pause and the two men freeze. “It was recorded a few weeks ago.” Specks of red dust drift through the crystal clear holo of Gyan. In his yellow robe, our charismatic father figure is unmistakable. I can see every smile line around his piercing blue eyes, every hair in his full, thick beard. He looks, as usual, powerful without even trying. On the other hand, Abel’s shirt is untucked and his hair is mussed. They’re both surrounded by a clutch of attentive Guiders—blue-robed community officials who uphold the will of the Trust. The Guiders are all looking at Gyan, even though my uncle is the one speaking.
    Ling pulls open another holo. “And then there’s this.”
    I skim the tight black print scrolling before me:
Work Choice Reassignment for Dr Abel F. Rockwood
. Abel’s signature is scrawled at the bottom of the page, floating just above my knee. “How did you get a copy of this?” I ask incredulously.
    Ling shoots me a look of amusement. “Child’s play. Actually, this is what tipped us off in the first place. Achilles, he’s our tech guy,intercepted some correspondence and managed to decode it. A classified stream they don’t think we know about.”
    I scan the text with small swishes of my fingers. It looks official enough, detailing Abel’s relocation from Animal Cloning to Innovation.
    â€œSee, right there,” Ling says, pointing at the hovering text. “All the resources in Innovation are being directed to Aevum.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “That’s insane. Those resources need to be directed out
here
. That’s why Kudzu wants to stop this thing.”
    I frown at the text before me. “Why would the Trust want to make another artilect?” I mutter, more to myself than Ling. Cutting off Moon Lake fit the Trust’s overall agenda of keeping Eden lush with life, as did replacing Zone workers with substitutes. But Magnus was a spectacular failure. I chew on my lip, thinking aloud. “If the Trust wanted more power and control, they’d just invent more substitutes. They do what they’re told, take fewer resources to run, and are way less risky.” I glance at Ling, still frowning. “Artilects are unpredictable. They’re supposed to be able to think for themselves, that’s the whole point.”
    â€œYou really know a lot about all this.”
    â€œArtilects?” I give her a sardonic smile. “Child’s play.”
    Ling looks deep in thought for a long minute. “It’s interesting,” she says eventually. “When I first heard about Aevum, I thought it was a massive waste of resources and a good target for a high-profile mission. But hearing you talk about it . . .” Ling widens her eyes for a second, then shakes her head. “I’m just doubly glad that I’m bringing you back.”
    I nod, scrunching the scratch into a tight little ball and squeezing it, hard.
But I’m not coming back for you
.
    â€œC’mon,” Ling says, gently taking the wad of scratch out of my hand. “Time to become Carin St.