The Cage (The Cage 1)
He hadn’t blinked once, she realized.
He paced to the center of the room mechanically, returning to his stoic state, seemingly unconcerned with how much he terrified her. She reminded herself that it was the Warden who had tried to kill her, not him. It didn’t make him any less of a monster, but maybe it meant he didn’t intend to hurt her—at least not yet.
Her breath slowed a fraction. “Why keep me behind?”
“It has been three days, and you have not slept adequately. By not sleeping you are disobeying Rule Two: maintain your health.” He tilted his head. “We are not as heartless as you imagine. We recognize that you, in particular, have certain fears—enclosed spaces, deep bodies of water—that prevent you from a restful slumber. I would like to help you. Tell me what you require to sleep.”
“What I require?” Her throat felt dry. “To go home. For all of us to go home, and that girl in the cage too, while you’re at it.”
“That is not possible.”
“Why? Has something happened to Earth? Is that what you meant, about how humans always destroy their surroundings?” Her voice rose in pitch, but he didn’t answer. “We deserve to know where we are and if our families are okay!”
His eyes stayed trained on her, just as hers stayed trained on him. It was a staring contest she was determined not to lose, even against someone who never blinked.
“I want you to be happy here, Girl Two. I can bring you a different pillow. A nighttime snack, if you prefer.”
She almost laughed, though it would sound hysterical. A pillow? Dessert? She hadn’t slept well after she was released from Bay Pines, either. She’d taken those long drives at night, listening to the radio. Only one thing had helped: Sadie, her old basset hound, who curled up protectively at the foot of the bed. Sadie had creaky joints and smelled like autumn leaves and couldn’t have protected her from an angry cat, but she had loved Cora unconditionally, in the way only a dog could.
She pushed aside thoughts of Sadie. Sadie was her memory, not theirs.
“Did you really expect me to sleep well, in a deranged zoo?”
“Your species has a history of thriving in captivity. You even place your own people in captivity, a very primitive practice.”
Cora steadied an untrusting gaze at him. Was he referring to her own time in juvie? If he thought she had thrived in captivity, he was wrong. That unwanted sensation itched in her mind, and she rubbed her eyes.
The hard set to his jaw softened. “You misunderstand, Girl Two.”
“My name is Cora.”
“Just because humankind is a lesser species does not mean it has no intrinsic value. In fact, as stewards of the lesser species, we value you all the more because of your natural innocence. Your kind has not yet been corrupted by superior intellect. Your life here will be effortless. We will provide everything. All you must do is enjoy it.”
“In exchange for what?” She shook her head wearily. “Nobody goes to all the trouble of abducting us from Earth and building an entire habitat out of the good of their hearts. Is that why you took kids, instead of adults—you thought we’d be too innocent to question your motives? I have news for you. I’m not that naive.”
“We wish only for your safety and survival.”
“The Warden nearly killed me. Was that for my survival?”
Her words snapped in the air. The Caretaker was quiet, as though she had struck too deep—or too true. Even the girl in the cage stopped picking at her toes and paid attention. Cora took a shaky step forward.
“You might want what’s best for us—you’re a Caretaker, after all. But I refuse to believe those researchers care about my safety. When I fell at their feet, they only watched like I was some experiment. And the Warden? He would have killed me without so much as a blink.” She stopped walking when she was close enough to feel the heat from his body, and she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Tell me why your kind really took us, and why those researchers keep manipulating us. Is it for your own amusement? Or are we test subjects for new drugs you don’t want to test on yourselves?” She swallowed, almost losing her resolve. “Or are you studying us because you want to see how humans will react when you attack Earth?”
“Attack Earth?” For someone who suppressed his emotions in public, he sounded sincerely surprised—or else he was a good liar. “That is another endearing trait of your species. Your vivid imagination.”
“Don’t mock me,” she said.
His face grew serious once more. “We have no interest in your planet. We are not a terrestrial species, but an astral one. We have made our home among the stars for the last million rotations—thirty thousand human years. An ancient race known as the Gatherers took us from our planet of origin and elevated us to the realm of the stars, where we evolved into one of the intelligent species. Now it is our turn to elevate your species to the stars, just as the Gatherers once did for us. Perhaps in time you will also display signs of evolving toward intelligence.”
“We are intelligent.”
“Not in the way we mean. For us, the difference between the intelligent species and the lesser ones is perceptive abilities: Telepathy. Telekinesis.” He paused, as though gauging her reaction. She thought back to Lucky and the others . . . had they shown any signs of telepathy? Telekinesis? No. They’d all seemed as helpless as she was.
When she didn’t react, he looked away, as if disappointed. “Your theories are not only incorrect, but they display signs of paranoia. No one intends to invade your planet. No one intends to use you as a test subject. No one is manipulating you.”
“Yes they are! If you’ve been studying Earth for so long, then you know how we really dress. You know what we really eat. You know it’s unfair that I get more tokens whenever I solve a puzzle. You know the optical illusions mess with our heads. You’ve even matched us in random pairs using constellations—why constellations?” Her angry ramble ended short, as she raked her nails over the marks on her neck.
“Every species with a home planet has created symbols out of the placement of stars. We use these symbols because they are soothing to you. And as to the pairings, they are not random. Our society is run by a program called the stock algorithm. It creates our law and determines our positions within the hierarchy. It selected your cohort because you all carry a high level of genetic diversity in your genes, and you also exhibit traits we find of particular value. You are all exemplary.”