Cinder (The Lunar Chronicles #1) - Marissa Meyer Page 0,47
Your DNA sequencing has been completed. Shall we make our way to the lab room?”
She followed him into the sterile hallway. It was a short walk to the labs, and they entered lab room 11D this time, which looked exactly like lab room 4D: netscreen, built-in cabinets, a single exam table. No mirror.
Cinder sat down on the exam table without being told. “I went to the quarantines today…to visit my sister.”
The doctor paused, his hand on the netscreen’s power button. “That was something of a risk. You understand that people aren’t supposed to leave once they arrive, don’t you?”
“I know. But I had to see her.” She swung her legs, beating her feet against the table’s legs. “One of the med-droids ran a blood test on me before I left, and I was clear.”
The doctor fiddled with the netscreen’s controls. “Indeed.”
“I just thought you should know, in case that might affect something.”
“It doesn’t.” He stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth. A second later, the screen blazed to life. His hands skimmed across the screen, pulling up Cinder’s file. It was more complex today, filled with information even she didn’t know about herself.
“And I saw something,” she said.
The doctor grunted, more focused on the screen than her.
“One of the med-droids took an ID chip from a victim. After she died. The med-droid said it was programmed to take it. It had dozens of them.”
Dr. Erland turned back to her with a mildly interested expression. He seemed to ponder this a moment, then his face slowly relaxed. “Well.”
“Well what? Why would it do that?”
The doctor scratched his cheek, where a fine beard had started to grow across his leathery face. “It’s a common practice in rural parts of the world—where letumosis has been claiming lives for much longer than it has in the cities. The chips are extracted from the deceased and sold off. Illegally, of course, but I understand they can fetch a high price.”
“Why would anyone want to buy someone else’s ID chip?”
“Because it is difficult making a living without one—money accounts, benefits, licenses, they all require an identity.” He stitched his eyebrows. “Although, that brings up an interesting point. With all the letumosis fatalities the past few years, one would think the market is saturated with unneeded ID chips. It’s curious that they would still be in demand.”
“I know, but when you already have one…” She paused as his words sank in. Would it really be that easy to steal a person’s identity?
“Unless you want to become someone else,” he said, reading her thoughts. “Thieves. Fugitives of the law.” The doctor rubbed his head through the hat. “The rare Lunar. They, of course, do not have ID chips to begin with.”
“There aren’t any Lunars on Earth. Well, other than ambassadors, I guess.”
Dr. Erland’s gaze filled with pity, as if she were a naive child. “Oh, yes. To Queen Levana’s endless dismay, not all Lunars are so easily brainwashed into mindless contentment, and many have risked their lives to escape Luna and relocate here. It’s difficult to leave the moon, and I’m sure many more die attempting it than succeed, especially as more restrictions are put on Lunar ports, but I’m sure it still happens.”
“But…that’s illegal. They’re not supposed to be here at all. Why haven’t we stopped them?”
For a moment, it looked as if Dr. Erland might laugh. “Escaping from Luna is difficult—getting to Earth is the easy part. Lunars have ways of cloaking their spacecrafts and making their way into Earth’s atmosphere without detection.”
Magic. Cinder fidgeted. “You make it sound like they’re escaping from a prison.”
Dr. Erland raised both eyebrows at her. “Yes. That seems exactly right.”
Cinder kicked her boots against the lab table. The thought of Queen Levana coming to New Beijing had twisted her stomach—the thought of dozens, maybe even hundreds of Lunars living on Earth and impersonating Earthens nearly had her running for the sink. Those savages—with a programmed ID chip and their ability to brainwash people, they could be anyone, become anyone.
And Earthens would never know they were being manipulated.
“Don’t look so frightened, Miss Linh. They mostly stick to the countrysides, where their presence is more likely to go unnoticed. The chances that you have ever crossed paths with one is extremely unlikely.” He smiled, a teasing, close-lipped smile.
Cinder sat up straighter. “You sure seem to know a lot about them.”
“I am an old man, Miss Linh. I know a lot about a lot of things.”