“How long will she be like this?” I ask Doc.
“A day. Maybe more. She wasn’t reanimated correctly. They are supposed to be removed from their cryogenic containment boxes before the process begins, and then they are supposed to be warmed in a reanimation bath, not left out on the table to melt. It’s a miracle she’s alive. ”
I swallow, hard. It feels as if a rock is moving down my throat.
Doc picks up the end of the box connected to the tubes that had been down the girl’s throat. “Someone pushed the button,” he says. “It’s not supposed to be pushed until after the body’s prepped for reanimation. This disconnects the power. ” He looks up at me. “She was unplugged. If we hadn’t gotten here in time. . . ” He glances at the girl now. “She would have died. ”
Shite. My stomach sinks to my shoes and stays there. “Just like that? Dead?”
Doc nods. “I have to com Eldest. ”
“No, but—”
“You won’t be in trouble. You didn’t do this. In fact, I’m glad you’re here. Eldest told me you’ve begun learning about strong central leadership. This is the sort of thing that will teach you leadership. ”
The girl’s chest moves up and down, but that is the only sign of life she’s willing to give me. Funny how different her body looks outside the ice. She seems smaller, weaker, more vulnerable. The ice was her armor. I want to protect her now, cover her curves instead of run my fingers over them.
I put my hand on her shoulder, marveling at the differences in our skin tones. She opens her eyes.
“Cold,” she whispers.
Doc stares down at the girl. “This is a frexing nightmare. ”
I want to say, how can this be a nightmare, with her here? But then she whimpers, a soft pathetic bleat like the lamb I once had as a pet, and the rock is back in my throat.
Doc gets the girl a hospital gown, the kind with no back, but she cries when we lift her arms through the sleeve holes. Then he covers her with a blanket. She keeps her eyes shut, and at first I think she’s sleeping, but her breathing is rough, uneven, and I know she’s keeping herself awake, listening to us.
We don’t say much.
When Eldest storms into the cryo level, he brings all the fear back with him. He looks at her, he looks at me, and then he looks at Doc.
“Was it him?”
“No!” I protest immediately.
“Of course not,” Doc says. Then, to me, “He’s not talking about you. ” He turns back to Eldest. “It’s impossible, and you know it. You’re being paranoid. ”
“Who are you—” I start, but they both ignore me.
“It was a malfunction,” Doc says. “The power glitched on her box. ” He holds up the electrical black box that had been on the top of Number 42’s cryo container. Its light still faintly blinks red.
“You’re sure of that?” Eldest asks.
Doc nods. “Of course I’m sure. Who would come down here, unplug a random girl, and leave? It was just a malfunction. The machinery’s old. I’m constantly having to repair it. She got unlucky, slipped through the cracks. ”
More lies. I wonder how much of anything Doc says is true. After all, he had been checking her cryo chamber earlier today. And he was a lot more freaked out before Eldest showed up, when he told me someone pushed the button to unplug her.
The girl on the table moans.
“Who is she?” Eldest asks, his attention diverting to the girl.
“Number 42. ”
“Was she—?”
“Nonessential. ”
“Amy,” the girl croaks.