Icons by Margaret Stohl Read Free Book Online Page B

it before. Sympas are a personal threat to his existence. And mine.
    The hand stretches again, nearer to me. “I’m warning you. Don’t move.” Ro growls the words, and as usual, it’s his tone that tells you everything.
    The boy’s fingers uncurl, slowly, touching my knees in the water.
    “Sweet Blessed Lady.” It’s all I can think to say.
    There, beneath the half-undone leather wrist cuff, beneath the ripped sleeve of a muddy Embassy military jacket, beneath the bloodstained uniform shirt soaked with ocean water—
    Four blue dots, forming a perfect square.
    In that second, the world of two people, of Ro and me, shatters into a world of three.
    Now I understand what I was feeling.
    Now I understand who this boy is. Or more to the point, what he is.
    He’s an Icon Child, like Ro and me.
    There are more of us.
    My heart is pounding. I knew there were stories—rumors of other Icon Children—but I never really believed there could be more than me and Ro.
    Had the Padre known?
    If I had only read the book when I had the chance.
    “What is it?”
    Ro hasn’t seen.
    My mind races.
    He showed me his markings.
    Why?
    Had he seen mine, here in the water?
    Could he have been conscious when Ro and I bound hands?
    No.
    I had been there when Ro smashed him in the face with his own weapon, knocking him out.
    I was there when he fell.
    I saw his eyes roll back in his head before anything happened.
    No.
He showed me because he knew about me.
He knows about us.
He knows.
    “What’s wrong?” Ro tightens his grip on the gun.
    “They’ve come for us, Ro.”
    “Of course they have. What do you think that was all about back there, on the train? They send out their fat, lazy Sympas to drag us into their stupid Projects, just like the other Remnants. I told the Padre we needed to arm ourselves, we needed better defenses. He wouldn’t listen.”
    I shake my head and try again. “They’ve found us, Ro.”
    I hold up the boy’s wrist, and I unwrap mine.
    The resemblance is undeniable. The distance of the dot from the palm, the size of the mark. Next to each other, we are perfect matches.
    Just like Ro and me.

RESEARCH MEMORANDUM: THE HUMANITY PROJECT
    CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET / AMBASSADOR EYES ONLY
    To: Ambassador Amare
    From: Dr. Huxley-Clarke
    Subject: Icon Children Mythology
    Subtopic: Rager
    Catalogue Assignment: Evidence recovered during raid of Rebellion hideout
    The following is a reprint of a recovered page, thick, homemade paper, thought to be torn from an anti-Embassy propaganda tract titled
Icon Children Exist!
Most likely hand-published by a fanatical cult or Grass Rebellion faction.
    Text-scan translation follows.



7
A DECISION
    “Four dots. You know what this means? There are more, Ro. More than us.” I look at Ro.
    Ro studies the boy in my arms. He doesn’t put down his blade. He doesn’t put down the Sympa gun. He grips each more tightly.
    I feel a red-hot blaze of pure hatred that I have never felt before. Not from Ro, anyway.
    “Three,” Ro finally says.
    He points to me. “One.” Himself. “Two.” The boy. “Four. What about Three? What did they do to him?”
    The boy says nothing. The boy only looks. He moves his head restlessly, and a moment later I hear why.
    Embassy Choppers overhead, closer than before. Theblades flap, low and loud. They want to make sure we know they’re coming. In force.
    “Damn. Damn. Damn,” Ro mutters, wiping his sleeve against his face. “We need more time.”
    I look down at the wounded boy and feel his rising panic. “We have to get him out of here.”
    Ro’s voice is cold and hard. “Why?”
    “Ro.”
    “He’s one of them.”
    “Look at his wrist, Ro. He couldn’t be one of them, not even if he wanted to be.”
    “Why not?” He looks as stubborn as the rock he wants to throw at me right now.
    “Because he’s one of us.”
    Before Ro can respond, the boy struggles to get to his feet. I push him up from behind, but I can barely pull myself up along with