Daughter of Nothing Read online

  Daughter of Nothing

  Book One of The Scion Chronicles

  Eric Kent Edstrom

  To J

  Contents

  Untitled

  1. Find Out What's Next

  2. She Wasn't Good for Him

  3. A Pattern of Impressions

  4. As Foolish as a Dolphin

  5. A Secret Code or Something

  6. My Name Isn't Jesus Christ

  7. I Didn't Think This Through

  8. A Grunting and Groaning Animal

  9. The Fake Ignorance

  10. Let Me out of Her

  11. A Fuzzy Dolphin

  12. The Same Storm

  13. All Their Socrateses

  14. Contained Violence

  15. Demeaning and Unscientific

  16. Not My Area of Expertise

  17. Your Virgin Blood

  18. A Sudden and Urgent Need

  19. The Good Stuff

  20. Greeted with Tears

  21. I'm Dr. Carlhagen's

  22. Hardly a Fighter

  23. and Cauldron Bubble

  24. Gamma-Matrix Dominatrix

  25. Your Icy Hearts

  26. The Stupid Dog

  27. The Snakes Would Have Noticed

  28. That Withered Crone

  29. From Light to Dark in an Instant

  30. Leverage Gave Him Power

  31. Protocol Hemlock

  32. A Stranger's Womb

  33. As Much as I Love You

  34. Hamlet, Thou Art Slain

  35. The Allure of an Eel

  36. Forbid the Tides to Rise

  Child of Lies: Her Smallest Plans

  Child of Lies: 5:06 a.m

  Child of Lies: Hormonal Whirlwinds

  Keep Reading!

  Welcome to Daughter of Nothing, book one of The Scion Chronicles, a YA dystopian series.

  When youth itself is stolen by the rich and powerful, one girl rises to face them down.

  Few people know that the Scion School exists. Tucked away on a private Caribbean island, the school hosts thirty-six exceptionally gifted students. They train every day to prepare themselves for an immense responsibility, to lead humankind back from the brink of extinction.

  At least, that's what they've been told.

  Only one student--a seventeen year old named Jacey--suspects the truth. Driven by her undying loyalty to her friends, Jacey races to untangle the truth of who the Scions are . . . and what the headmaster truly means when he says they are bound for a great destiny.

  1

  Find Out What's Next

  Seven-six-two-nine-three-one-seven-six—

  Jacey lay on the top bunk, watching the rattan blades of the ceiling fan spin in lazy circles. It turned just fast enough to circulate the humid Caribbean air through Girls’ Hall.

  Normally, sea breezes cut through the dormitory, cooling the girls who lounged on the bunks lining both walls. But with the shutters and doors locked shut, the ceiling fan was all they had.

  Six-seven-five-two-three-eight—

  A low rumble, a vibration more than a sound, registered in the wood frame of her bunk. Jacey noted it, then continued.

  Four-six-seven-four-eight-one-eight—

  Footsteps. Whispering. A young voice, probably Rachel.

  Four-six-seven—

  Sarah’s older voice came from the bottom bunk. “What is it, Rachel?”

  Six-six-nine-four-zero-five—

  “This didn’t happen last year.” Rachel’s voice quavered.

  One . . . three . . . two-zero-zero-zero—

  “Don’t worry about it. Lockdowns can happen anytime.”

  “Has it happened on Birthday before?”

  Five-six . . .

  Another rumble, followed by a susurration of whispers among the younger girls. It rose and fell like the surf on a far beach. Jacey tried to ignore it.

  Five-six . . .

  “No, Rachel. We’ve never had one on Birthday, but as I said, they can happen anytime.”

  “Thank you, Sarah. I’ll tell the others.”

  Five-six . . . Five, six . . . eight? Yes. Eight-one-two-seven—

  The growl of a motor vehicle emerged from the rumbles.

  “It’s the Jeep,” said another girl, a note of surprise in her voice.

  One-four-five—

  The sound of the Jeep grew louder. Jacey sat up.

  A group of younger girls stampeded down the aisle between the bunks, their ponytails swinging and collar sigil pins flashing in the dim light. They raced toward the wooden entryway doors that stood a few meters from where Jacey lay.

  “It’s in the quad!”

  “What’s Sensei doing?”

  “Isn’t he in lockdown, too?”

  “Of course not, you dummy. How could he unlock our doors if he was locked inside his villa?”

  Their voices reverberated from the dormitory hall’s stucco walls and cathedral ceiling.

  The Jeep’s noise faded to the east. The only thing in that direction was Dr. Carlhagen’s hacienda. And that could only mean one thing.

  Dr. Carlhagen, the headmaster, had returned to the Scion School.

  Jacey slid from her top bunk and dropped next to Sarah’s bed. Jacey sat on the edge of the older girl’s bunk and frowned at the flock of students milling about the front doors. At eighteen, Sarah was a year older than Jacey. That meant she was in charge of half the girls in the dormitory.

  Jacey touched her shoulder. “How long are you going to let our Nine embarrass themselves?”

  Sarah lifted her arm and brushed away a strand of silky, black hair that had fallen across her face. She turned her large, dark eyes on Jacey. They looked unfocused, as if she hadn’t been paying attention to any of the excitement. “What?”

  Jacey shifted her gaze to the congregation at the door. “This is not the behavior one expects from Scions. Not in our Nine, anyway.”

  Sarah shook her head as if coming out of a stupor. “You’re right.” She stood and clapped her hands. “Jacey, Wanda, Bethancy, Summer, Helen, Avanyla, Loreenla, Rachel!”

  A second later, Vin, also eighteen, piped in from across the room. As usual, she took her cue from Sarah. “Belle, Leslie, Dajeet, Dansha, Grace, Suki, Chloe, Christina!”

  The flock by the door spun and flowed up the aisle, girls breaking off to take their assigned positions at the foot of their bunks. Jacey stepped to her spot and straightened her shoulders.

  Sarah walked from girl to girl, inspecting their faces, hands, fingernails, and uniforms. Across the aisle, Vin did the same with her Nine.

  Sarah stopped before Jacey. “Your pin isn’t right.”

  Jacey’s left hand lifted to the Eagle pin on her collar and gauged its position. With her little finger aligned to the vertical edge of her mandarin collar, her ring finger should just touch the eagle’s beak.

  It did.

  An index finger pressed above the seam of collar should touch talon.

  It didn’t.

  Jacey removed the pin and handed it to Sarah. Scions who didn’t respect their pins weren’t allowed to wear them for a full day. Jacey swallowed but forced her face to remain passive. If she was to take over leadership of the Nine, she had to model the behavior she wanted from them.

  Her stomach roiled.

  How could I have been so careless? On Birthday, no less.

  What would she do when it came time to exchange her Eagle pin for a Shark later that day? The embarrassment made her want to climb up to her bunk and hide under the covers.

  Sarah hefted the weighty sigil, then with a sad smile pinned it onto Jacey’s collar. “Not today.”

  Relief washed through Jacey, but her initial embarrassment didn’t fade. The e
xcitement of Birthday had gotten to her. She wasn’t any better than the wide-eyed Dolphins and Pelicans.

  Sarah called to her Nine. “Gather.”

  They left their positions and formed a half circle with Sarah at the center. The Nine was composed of one girl from each age rank, each wearing the sigil pin of her age.

  They stood silently, eyes focused on the First of their Nine. Sarah clasped her hands behind her back and smiled. “I know you’re curious about what happens outside during lockdown. And I know some of you don’t believe me, but it’s nothing to be frightened about. Supplies are being delivered to the warehouse.”

  “But who is doing it? And what is that rumbling?”

  “Where do the supplies come from?”

  “Why was the Jeep on the quad?”

  Sarah smacked her hands together so hard the crack made girls in the other Nine jump. Their leader, Vin, turned to give Sarah an irritated look.

  Sarah glared at the younger Scions in her Nine. “Return to your bunks and choose something from your studies to review. I expect absolute silence from you until Sensei unlocks the door.”

  With a chorus of “Yes, Sarah,” the girls disbanded.

  Sarah returned to her own bunk and flopped onto it, as if chastising her Nine had taken the last milliliter of her energy.

  Jacey returned to the edge of Sarah’s bunk. “Thanks for not taking my pin.”

  Sarah smiled slightly, and Jacey noticed the tiniest quiver at the edge of the girl’s mouth. Their Nine leader had been distracted for the last few days, and the Nine had caught a whiff of her anxiety.

  Jacey knew better than to draw direct attention to the display of nervousness. The best thing was to acknowledge the coming event, but in a tangential way.

  “I’ll miss discussing our studies,” Jacey said quietly.

  Sarah didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she stared into Jacey’s eyes as if trying to memorize her. She reached out and patted Jacey’s hand. “I wish Dr. Carlhagen had allowed me to study more literature.”

  “I know how you feel,” Jacey said. She had always wanted to learn the advanced math that Sarah studied, but Dr. Carlhagen forbade it.

  Sarah had taught Jacey some algebra in exchange for hearing plays and stories. Aside from the one year when Sarah had been at the Scion School while Jacey was still at Children’s Villa, they had never been apart.

  Sarah looked toward the doors. Jacey knew what she was thinking.

  “You were right, Jacey. Dr. Carlhagen came. That had to be why the Jeep crossed the quad.”

  “You didn’t think he’d miss the first Scion School graduation, did you?”

  They hadn’t seen the headmaster in four years, and the last time had been on Birthday as well. Each year, the question of whether or not he’d show up generated huge speculation.

  “You’ll finally find out what’s next,” Jacey said.

  Sarah’s eyebrows knit together. Her face paled as she dropped her efforts to conceal her fear. “I’m so scared, Jacey.”

  Jacey glanced around to see if their conversation was drawing any notice. The girls in the next bunk appeared to be deep in their readers.

  Across the aisle, Vin still lectured her Nine about poise and propriety and what it meant to be a Scion. It was wearisome, but at least she did it quietly.

  Jacey leaned a bit closer to Sarah so she could keep her voice down. “Aren’t you excited to leave the island, though?”

  “No,” Sarah said, eyes welling. “What if I am assigned to the North American wastelands or to one of the European pestilence zones?”

  “That’s not very likely, is it?” Jacey said. “What would be the point of training us only to send us off to certain death?”

  “I hope you’re right. I want to get started rebuilding the world. I really do. I just worry that I am going to be thrown into something beyond my abilities.”

  Jacey squeezed Sarah’s shoulder. “You’ll do well. You’ve done a great job leading our Nine. And I’ll miss you.”

  Sarah enfolded Jacey in her arms, squeezed her. Jacey returned the embrace, not caring who saw.

  Let them call us Dolphins.

  The rumblings outside went on, and eventually Jacey returned to her top bunk and focused her attention on the ceiling fan.

  She’d lost her place. It was tedious to have to start at the very beginning, but she’d learned from long practice that shortcuts led to mistakes.

  Dr. Carlhagen’s presence on the island reinvigorated her commitment to perfection, so she started over.

  Pi.

  Three-point-one-four-one . . .

  ° ° °

  THE FRONT DOORS TO GIRLS’ HALL rattled just as Jacey finished her memorization review: pi to a thousand decimal places.

  Sensei unlocked the doors, then continued around the outside of the dormitory, unlatching shutters and swinging them open. A welcome breeze brought in the scent of the sea and bougainvillea blossoms. By the time he’d finished and stepped inside, the Nines were standing in their roll-call positions.

  Jacey didn’t know how old Sensei Mario Rosa was, though a hint of gray touched his temples. His rugged features and thick hands hinted at his great physical strength, and his presence was . . .

  Not intimidating. That wasn’t the right word.

  Potent.

  An aura of buzzing energy always surrounded the martial arts master, as if the very air around him were about to explode. And yet his presence calmed Jacey, because one never doubted that Sensei was in absolute control.

  His eyes scanned the room like a searchlight. “Top of schedule.”

  “Yes, Sensei,” they replied in unison. That meant they’d begin the day as if there hadn’t been lockdown. Assuming the Arrival happened when it usually did, one of their activities would be cut short. Jacey hoped it wasn’t her dance recital.

  Sensei spun and headed across the quad toward Boys’ Hall.

  2

  She Wasn't Good for Him

  Upon arriving at the hacienda, Dr. Carlhagen tottered to his office. The long sea journey and bumpy Jeep ride had left him weary and battered. Next time he’d come by helicopter.

  He opened his desk drawer and dug out his bottle of andleprixen, a painkiller he’d developed long ago. Like the rest of his inventions, it had never received regulatory approval. His hands trembled such that the bottle shook like a maraca. At nearly ninety-three, he had little to complain about. He had lived a long life, most of it vigorous, and had left a series of successes in his wake that would leave an indelible mark on human history.

  Assuming he survived the next year.

  He twisted off the cap and downed a slightly larger dose than necessary. No matter. His liver was healthy enough, and the pills were the only thing that helped the damned arthritis. Oh, how he longed for the careless ease of his youth.

  Soon, soon, he reminded himself. A year. If he could just make it a year.

  Mr. Justin, the butler, appeared in his doorway. He bowed low, flashing the crown of his hairless head. “The Progenitors are all settled in the medical ward, sir. Nurse Smith has begun the tests you requested.”

  “Good.” He pulled his old timepiece from his vest pocket and glanced at the yellowed face. “Plenty of time. I’ll call you if I need anything else.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mr. Justin bowed again and departed.

  Dr. Carlhagen stroked his gnarled thumb across the face of the timepiece. The watch was an heirloom, handed down from eldest son to eldest son since 1913.

  Two hundred years. If only his heart could tick as long as that miraculous device.

  The thought brought an even broader smile to his face. His father had paid a watchsmith to replace the original action inside the watch. How proud the old man had been of the work. “Look, son. You’d never know these weren’t original parts. The smith even matched the patina on the gears.”

  Dr. Carlhagen remembered feeling nothing but disdain. If one was going to go to all that effort, why not imp
rove the device? Why not use modern materials? Why not polish it up to shine like new?

  Some considered antiques more beautiful because of their age, an idea Dr. Carlhagen had never understood.

  Youth was true beauty.

  Enough philosophizing. He tucked the watch back into his pocket and turned his attention to what lay ahead.

  Eighteen years of work had come to this day, the first graduating class. Finding Progenitors rich enough to afford a Scion had been relatively easy. The trick had been finding ones with enough urgency or inborn recklessness to go first. If they knew that Dr. Carlhagen himself had not been willing to take that risk, he doubted they would have agreed.

  A pleasant flush of warmth filled Dr. Carlhagen’s veins as the andleprixen took effect. The pain in his joints eased, and his ever-present headache faded.

  He had nothing to worry about. The Progenitors would all end up happy customers. The animal tests and the one human trial had proven the technology, and he’d made progress since then.

  Once the first transfers were complete, he’d know for sure if all the effort and expense had been worth it. If so, he had a long life of extraordinary wealth and power to look forward to.

  If not . . .

  He gave the bottle of andleprixen a little shake before tucking it back into the drawer. There were plenty of pills left to make a quick end.

  He put his hands on the surface of his bare desk, initiating a Michael session. The AI’s holographic image, fifteen centimeters high, resolved above Dr. Carlhagen’s desk.