The Body Electric - Special Edition by Beth Revis Read Free Book Online Page A

remember,” PA Young continues with a far-distant look in her eyes, “is that in the end, all war does is kill people. We can pretend it’s something else, but it’s not.” Her clear eyes meet mine. “You know what my favorite war is?”
    I shake my head. I didn’t know people had favorite wars.
    “World War II.” PA Young’s voice is musing. “In the early 1900s, there was the first World War—of course, they didn’t call it ‘World War I.’ They called it ‘The Great War,’ or ‘The War to End all Wars.’ And then armies rose again, and we had another World War. That’s why I like World War II. It was the war that came after the war to end all wars. It reminds me: the war is never over. We can’t stop fighting it.”
    I stare at PA Young, unsure of what to say. The war is over—not just the ones she’s talking about, but the Secessionary War, too. It’s been over for longer than I’ve been alive.
    When PA Young meets my eyes, I can tell that she sees my doubt. “The war never ends,” she repeats, her voice more firm now, none of the reminiscence lingering. “And there is always a price to pay. Always. For some, the price was immediate.”
    She turns to Ms. White, who’s been hanging back behind us. PA Young holds out her hand, demanding… something, but I’m not sure what. Without a word, Ms. White strips off the crisp linen suit jacket she’d been wearing and starts to unbutton her white blouse. My eyes go wide with shock, and she slips one shoulder of her shirt down.
    And then I see it—the thin silver line that divides Ms. White’s real body from the cyborg arm. Ms. White presses a hidden button in her arm, and twists it off, slipping it out of her sleeve and handing it over to PA Young without a word.
    I stare at the arm in horror. Ms. White hardly ever takes it off, but there it is, in the PA’s hand, the stump made of silver and chrome and glistening with bio-lube. The fingers still twitch—an automatic movement as it resets.
    “This was the price Jadis paid,” PA Young says, holding Ms. White’s arm out to me. “She paid it the second she moved your mother aside to protect her during the Valetta Attack.”
    I swallow. “I know,” I say in a small voice. Ms. White saved my mother’s life that day.
    “And you,” PA Young says, her voice rising. “You paid the price of the war before you were even born.”
    My eyes flick from Ms. White’s arm to PA Young’s eyes. They’re filled with sympathy, but I don’t understand. Not until she says, “I’m right in remembering your family was from Valetta?”
    My eyes drop to the floor. PA Young hands Ms. White back her cyborg arm, but I’m trapped in the dark thoughts she’s led me to. A hundred thousand deaths, but I am not haunted by their ghosts. I’m haunted by my grandparents’—both my mother’s parents and my father’s were in the city at the time of the blast. And my uncle who I never met, my father’s brother, who was engaged to be married. I might have had an aunt. Cousins.
    The only family I have left now is my mother. That’s it.
    PA Young touches my shoulder. “The price of war is always heavy, and it must always be paid. And for some, that price isn’t paid for years and years after the peace treaties are signed. Such as your father. He had to pay for the Secessionary War, too.”
    “He was killed by terrorists.”
    “Terrorists who hadn’t given up on the Seccessionist’s cause. Terrorists who are still fighting the war that ended nearly twenty years ago.” PA Young stares intently at me. “The rebels are a very real threat. Our government is not an empire, though it is vast. And I am no dictator, gripping the nations together in an iron fist. Perhaps it would be simpler if I were. But no. We are a republic. The largest republic in history, but still—a republic. However, if we are to be truly one, a unified government…”
    It’s hard for me to imagine that the UC is still new—it’s existed