"We don't know that for certain," Nast said.
"She admitted it."
Dr. Inglis inched forward. "We do agree that Nicole appears to be responsible for Serena's death, Maya. We just don't know if the experiment had anything to do with that. Mental illness can have many causes."
"Whatever. We do have dreams. All of us. And none include being prisoners--or Cabal slaves--for the rest of our lives."
"Cabal slaves?" Nast laughed. "Do my employees look that miserable? Yes, we expect a return on our investment. We expect you to work for us, in the same way that the army expects military service after paying for a college degree."
"But people join the army knowing that. It's a willing exchange of services."
He waved off the distinction. "Think of it as being a very privileged young woman, which you are. You will get the best care and the best education, and when you graduate, you will have a guaranteed job waiting. A job that will pay you a six figure starting salary, in addition to covering all living expenses. How many young people dream of such an opportunity?"
"They dream of that as an option. A choice."
Another wave as if to say, Such a petty distinction, really. "You'll have choices, Maya. You all will. Daniel can certainly become a lawyer. The Cabal can always use more. He'd attend the Ivy League school of his choosing." A smug smile. "We can guarantee it whatever his grades. As for you, while we don't have much call for veterinarians, I happen to know you weren't as set on that career as you're pretending now. I'm sure we could find something that matched your interests."
"You didn't resurrect extinct species to become lawyers," I said. "You'll want more from us."
"We'll have other tasks, yes. But there's no need to worry about that now. The point is that you will be taken care of. Very well taken care of."
"In a gilded cage," I said, waving at the house.
Dr. Inglis stepped forward. "No, Maya. This is just temporary. Do you remember what I said about finding you another Salmon Creek? We have. That's where you'll live until you go away to college. After that, you'd be free to live on your own, as any other young person would."
Nast leaned forward. "Except you won't be living in a dingy one-room apartment in a questionable part of town. You would get a condo your average college grad can't afford unless she comes from a very wealthy family." He smiled. "Which, in a way, you do."
"What if I just want to come from the family I have now? My parents?"
Silence.
I turned to Dr. Inglis. "You said you're setting up Salmon Creek Two. I assume it'll be just like the first, right?"
"As close as we can get."
"So my parents will be there?"
She looked momentarily stricken, as if she'd thought they'd come close to selling me the deal, and the decision now rested on a response she couldn't give. I knew she couldn't give it. But I sat there, looking expectant.
"Your father will be there," Nast said.
I gave him a look that said I wasn't dignifying that with a response. Then I turned back to Dr. Inglis.
"My parents will know soon, right? They'll come live with me. Just like before?"
"I . . ."
"You remember my parents?" I said. "You've known them for eleven years. You've been to our house. You've gone to lunch with my mom."
"Your adoptive parents can't join you, Maya," Nast said.
I kept my gaze on Dr. Inglis. "I saw you at the memorial service. And you saw them, right? My parents? They seemed okay with me being dead, didn't they?"
She looked away fast.
"This is for the best," Nast said. "Perhaps, if you kids hadn't run like that, we could have avoided the ruse of your deaths."
"Like hell!" I said, wheeling on him. "When we crashed, we were being kidnapped. Of course we ran. You never intended to return us to our parents. The crash just gave you a really good, really permanent way to do that."