Drew now knows the real mission her creators were trying to accomplish; create a perfect world. In other words, taking people, eventually all of the people on earth, and turning them into mechanically altered, perfect, human beings. That is what Drew previously found out happened to her.
But, although Drew, Jessica and Michael know that they need to somehow stop the creators, Drew also knows that she's made another enemy along the way; one possibly even more dangerous than the creators.
As Drew struggles to detach herself from the people who "created" her and untangle the mess they've made, she discovers that it might not be as easy as she thought, that she is destined to play a larger role in this plan than she ever intended.
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|Middle Grade / Teens|
Yvonne pressed her ear against the hard, wooden door, quieting her breathing and leaning in. She could hear the voices of the men inside—one was a creator and the other was someone he had invited.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” she heard the stranger’s voice float out into the hall, incredulity lining every word. The door hadn’t been shut completely so Yvonne gave it a small push, revealing a tiny crack. She leaned down and stared through, barely making out the two figures seated at the desk. The man was facing away from her and although the creator’s chair was facing her direction, he was so intent on the conversation that he failed to notice her peering in.
The creator shook his head, a small frown morphing his features cold. “What? You don’t like my proposition?” he asked in mock surprise.
Yvonne’s keen eyesight caught the stranger’s reflection in the glass front of a trophy case on the wall facing him. The man, clothed in an expensive-looking suit and whom she assumed was someone of importance, just stared at him. “You’re proposition? It’s insane. Literally.”
The meeting was no longer of low priority. It was funny to see a man of such stature and composure gaping in such an unattractive expression. Yvonne stifled her urge to smirk.
The creator frowned again, his eyebrows furrowing. Yvonne knew that look. He had been expecting this. The creator knew what this man’s reaction would be, but for some reason, he had expected he’d be convincing. “It would be a better place than it is now. Can’t you understand that?” He leaned forward in his chair, his voice slightly strained.
Yvonne couldn’t help but roll her eyes, wishing she could burst into the room and smack both of them. They were both wrong. Stupidly wrong. No one had any idea what the creators were doing. Not even the creators themselves. The androids were the perfect ones. Not the creators.
And if it was perfection the creators were looking for, they needed to step out of the way.
The man stiffened, and although his back was to Yvonne, she could see the revulsion in his reflection. “No. I don’t understand. I don’t even want to try.” His words were spit out as if poisonous. Yvonne curled her lip, disgusted.
The creator suddenly smiled. A sickening smile that seemed almost a grimace. “But we already have.” He drummed his fingers slowly against the desk in front of him, creating an eerily rhythmic beat.
The man was silent, his lips parted, watching him. “What?”
The creator’s smile widened. “We’ve already tried it. Yes, we have created perfect people. More than you would think actually. Hundreds.” He looked like a proud parent, bragging about his accomplishments in raising his children. “They’re all perfect.”
There was a long, tense pause as his words hung in the air, clutching both men and seeming to freeze them.
“And these people gave you their consent to…perfect them?” the man asked warily. This caught Yvonne off guard. Consent? She had never given consent. She had never remembered a time when she wasn’t an android. She frowned momentarily, realizing that it didn’t make sense, but then focused back on the meeting. It didn’t matter.
The creator shrugged nonchalantly. “Not necessarily.” His eyes glinted.
The man stood so quickly he knocked his chair backward with a loud series of clatters. “You mean to tell me that you took people against their will and surgically altered them?” he almost yelled, his deep voice demanding not only an answer, but an explanation as well.
His rage startled Yvonne. No, she didn’t want more perfect people. The amount they had was enough. She was enough. But she didn’t like the way the man’s voice changed to horror and cracked with fear, the way his body stiffened at the idea of them.
The creator met the man’s eyes, glaring. “I need you to support my idea,” he said calmly, his eyes ice cold. “You’re in a high position and your support would make a huge difference.” Each word was chosen carefully, spoken carefully. An explanation and possibly a threat.
“I would never support such a thing,” the man spat back at him. “In fact, I should have you arrested for what you’ve done.” His eyes were blazing and he reached for something in his coat pocket. But before his fingers had even dusted the object, the creator sprang from his seat, shot toward him and hit him over the head.
The man crumpled instantly to the ground and the creator smiled down at the metal that was now exposed from a cut within his own skin.
Yvonne glared through the door, knowing what the creator was going to do. She knew they would stop at nothing to perfect the whole word—to make everyone the same. And that would leave her useless. Mundane. She gritted her teeth.
“If you won’t support me,” the creator said, glaring down at the unmoving body on the floor, malice lining his voice. “Then we’ll have to make you perfect, too.”