Chapter 17
My hand freezes. Icicles pump frigid blood through my veins as my vision doubles.
I snap my head to meet Lowell’s intense, grief-filled eyes. “Wait, w-what?” I stutter.
“Why are you acting like you didn’t know? You were integral to the project that leveled my entire species,” Lowell says, monotone, as though he’s reading a grocery list.
Hands cling to my beating chest. I’m filled with panicked heat. “No! I didn’t… I wasn’t….”
Lowell stares, nearly comatose. “The documents regarding the project have been scrubbed from existence, so I’ve always been unsure what your true level of involvement was. But damn, your signature was on everything.”
“I didn’t—”
He cuts me off. I don’t dare talk over him. “I’m not looking for you to convince me of your innocence, so don’t try. It didn’t go well for the original director, and won’t for you, either.”
I swallow, my throat dry and cracked. “Wait, what? Did you—”
“Kill him? Yeah,” Lowell says, the corners of his mouth burrowing into his cheeks.
The old director didn’t flee Nilsan, after all. The Board of Ethics searched for him for months.
Pressure drills into my temples with a ferocity that feels like my head will explode.
Memories deluge my thoughts: sitting in the Nilsan board room, signing construction papers I barely understood, many sleepless nights after rigorous testing of soil only to end up with undefined results, verbal warnings from the previous director to “hurry the hell up,” faked numbers after I didn’t finish analyzing the samples taken over the entire swamp within the deadline…
My greatest shame is finally back to haunt me.
My indifference.
My negligence.
My na?veté.
The project destroyed lives. And I helped to do it.
But why is this the first time I’ve heard about this?
“The Department of Land Conservation is nonviolent, non-military. We don’t kill anyone. You must be confusing me with someone else,” I plead, pressing my lips tightly together.
Lowell becomes increasingly annoyed with each word I speak, the wrath he’d once looked at me with returning in a snap.
“How could you not know? Nilsan strategically poisoned the swamp for years.” His cheeks pinch with a grimace.
“My appearance is obvious from the WANTED posters, so why did you never question that you haven’t seen another Lizardfolk like me?
I’m the only survivor of the incident, so not a single other Lizardfolk shares my species. ”
In truth, I’ve only wondered about it for a short moment. From Grandma’s journal, I surmised that hundreds of Lizardfolk species lived all around the continent even if I have never seen them for myself.
“I assumed you weren’t from around here. Lizardfolk appearances are usually based on the terrain of their species’ region. And Nilsan attracts many tourists,” I reply.
Lowell spits, a dubious look drawing his brows together. “Don’t try to play stupid.”
I wipe my face with the palm of my hand, aghast. “I’m not trying to trick you, Lowell.
This just doesn’t make any sense. Why would your species matter to Nilsan so much?
More than any other, enough to exterminate them?
” My frustration grows as I speak, guilt eating away at my tongue.
“Why? Why would someone like you matter so much?” I shout.
A silence falls between us, sand whipping against the tent’s flimsy flaps. The air is tense but not laced with aggression. I immediately regret my outburst.
Lowell’s appearance melts from anger to blasé, his hands resting atop one another. He seems intrigued. “To put it plainly, my species is larger, stronger, and more aggressive than any other Lizardfolk.”
I draw back, tightening my shoulders up to my jaw. “That seems like a poor reason to kill off a species, even for Nilsan,”
“Exactly, because it’s not the complete reason.
But that’s the only reasoning you’ll find if you dig deep enough,” he explains.
“Nilsan spent years covering up decades of information documenting the Misya Swamp Lizardfolk. Particularly because we were the only race or species to retaliate against Nilsan’s expansion and win.
Your project wasn’t the first time they tried to build across the swamp, but their previous failures made it possible to build across deemed ‘barren’ land,” he snorts, “or manufactured barren land.”
I can’t decide if I believe any of this. I knew beforehand that the Misya Swamp Project was the second attempt at construction, but I was never told why. Nilsan didn’t make broadcasting their failures a habit, especially not to the public. They couldn’t risk losing loyalty.
Despite the pit in my stomach, I keep pressing. “Nilsan would have sent the military, not the Department of Land Conservation with some convoluted plan.”
A sigh rumbles from Lowell’s chest, annoyed. “Your department was the only one that stood to lose anything. Who said the military knew?”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. “You’re suggesting that a bunch of scientists committed a literal crime against the allied cities?”
“If the military were involved, there wouldn’t have been any survivors. You and I both know that.” A satisfied smirk sits across his lips.
Blood drains from my face. My headache morphs into a hammering so powerful it feels like my face is trying to flee from my skull.
“The second attempt at the project was in retaliation? To punish you all?”
Lowell shakes his head. “No. Better yet: money. The pipeline was, and is, the largest revenue stream for Nilsan. Killing us off for revenge was just a bonus.”
The pieces from the Misya Swamp project that never made sense now begin to connect at the joints, and the picture becomes clearer.
There was no other reason to hire me, a new graduate, to lead a large-scale operation other than to have someone unsure of themselves to bully easily.
My paperwork was sloppy, rushed, and guided by a heavy hand from my superiors.
Any seasoned scientist wouldn’t have been swayed.
But still, breaking a treaty with the allied cities? Lowell’s claims make sense in theory, but he has no proof. Not only that, but the current facts are stacked against him.
“This all ties into your poison theory, then?” I ask. “Is this something you’ve seen Nilsan do a lot before?”
To my surprise, Lowell shakes his head and replies, “No. Nilsan hasn’t been bold enough to try it again, except for now.
The Sandpit Desert project is on a similar scale to the Misya Swamp project in terms of potential revenue.
” His lips twitch. “How convenient that you were demoted right before the initial sign-off and were dumped into a desert where Gaia 4 is known to be active, huh? It’s almost like they didn’t want their most combative employee at the helm. ”
Just when I think my eyes can’t go any wider, my eyebrows kiss my hairline. “Are you suggesting I was sent out here to be murdered? Why the hell would they bother with that? From how you’ve described me,” I use my fingers as air quotes, “I’m just a ‘useful idiot’ to them.”
“Well, that depends. Does Nilsan regularly send a single surveyor with heaps of insubordination strikes against them out to the field by themselves?” Lowell asks, already knowing the answer.
Reminded of my demotion, I scowl. “No, but I’m seasoned enough to be on my own. My superiors know that,” I say through a scoff. “And I don’t believe you. This is all too conspiratorial and convenient.”
“You don’t have to believe me at all, sweetheart,” he says with a lighthearted chuckle. “I’m only answering your questions as you’ve asked them.”
Despite my skepticism, Lowell’s observations run parallel to my own theories. Kinsley never told me who would replace me during my temporary demotion, and I suspected he wanted a pushover. A scientist who would fold under pressure like I used to.
I roll my teeth over my bottom lip, rubbing the heel of my palms into my eye sockets until I see stars. “You knew I was being sent to the field, and that I was a contributor to the Misya Swamp Pipeline. So, let me guess — capturing me wasn’t just a happenstance, was it?”
Lowell’s nostrils flare eagerly, seemingly enjoying watching me struggle to digest this revelation.
“Nope. I’ve been trying to draw you out of Nilsan’s safety for about two years, and it seems like you were none-the-wiser the entire time.
I had my spies attempt to influence you to travel to any allied city for a festival or research conference, but you didn’t budge. ”
My cheeks flush. Leaving my work to Kinsley to attend an event would be asking him to tamper with my results, so I was always the one to stay behind. Hearing out loud that I haven’t set foot outside of Nilsan in over two years is a mortifying realization.
“It took a long while,” he starts with an exasperated exhale.
“But when we finally caught you, I couldn’t wait to crush your skull between my palms like a sad little piece of fruit.
A euphoric end to the sordid tragic tale of the extinction of my species.
A life for a life — a life for many lives, even. ”
My eyes squint, but not in a glare. “Was it Kinsley’s singular influence that demoted me, or was destroying my career the byproduct of your revenge ploy?”
I despise how casual he looks. Delighted, even.
He shrugs with one shoulder. “Our original plan was to mix up the first wave of sand samples so you’d be forced to test on-site.
So, sorry to say, but you can’t blame us.
It was pure luck that your homicidal megalomaniac of a boss sent you out here without a partner.
We didn’t have to do anything but sit back and watch. ”
I cross my arms defensively. It stings more than I thought to know that Gaia 4 was watching and cheering as my life’s work crumbled into ash.