Hess glanced to the glass wall. “We’ve had little success controlling the Aether through technological means. Other approaches, biological ones, may still work. The CGB—the research group your mother was part of—had the primary focus of sculpting genetics to make life in the Pods sustainable. But they also ran a few experimental programs. Some of these, like the immunoboost, looked at bringing us back outside the Pods. Another focused on evolutional acceleration.”

Aria’s mother had been a geneticist. She already knew where this was heading. Hess continued, explaining for the benefit of the others.

“By creating people with a high degree of genetic plasticity—DNA that’s extremely malleable—they hoped to create humans who could rapidly adapt to whatever environment they encountered: chameleons who could change on a cellular level, molding to an alien atmosphere, to whatever conditions they met.”

As Hess spoke, Sable gave a signal to one of his men at the door. Horn soldiers came in from the corridor, standing along the wall. Hess’s Guardians entered as well. Both groups seemed uneasy to be there.

“The CGB had already seen Outsiders who exhibited this type of rapid evolution by assuming enhanced sensory capabilities.” Hess glanced at Roar. “But what the program accomplished went further than anyone anticipated. Not only did the test subjects adapt to the Aether; the Aether adapted to them.”

He paused, just a beat of silence. In that beat, Aria began to count Guardians. Horn soldiers. Weapons.

“It wasn’t long before the project was deemed a failure,” Hess continued. “There were instabilities that weren’t accounted for. As with anything, in solving one problem there’s always a possibility of creating secondary, consequential problems. While the scientists had figured out how to create a human with dynamic genetics, they couldn’t figure out how to turn those dynamics off. The test subjects expired within years of creation. They were nonviable. They . . . self-destructed.”

Hess looked to the glass wall again and said, “All except one.”

20. Peregrine

20

PEREGRINE

Speakers in the ceiling had piped in every word.

“I’m . . . I’m an alien?” Cinder said. The scent of his fear flooded the chamber.

“No. That’s not what he said.” Perry pulled against his restraints, though he knew it was useless. He wanted to shatter the glass between the chambers and reach Aria.

Reach Sable.

They’d seen everything too, but Perry knew it wasn’t the same from the other side. Whenever Aria or Roar looked over, their gazes scanned, never settling on him or Cinder.

Cinder’s eyebrows drew together, his expression desperate. “But I heard that man. He said the word alien.”

“He also said the word chameleon, but you’re not one of those, are you?”

“No. But they created me as an experiment—that part is true.”

“You’ve made yourself into who you are—not them.”

“He said I was going to self-destruct. He said I was going to die. He said—”