Pentimento: a dystopian Beauty and the Beast by Cameron Jace Page A

breed. And in some twist of life, they need females from The Second to breed."
    "It's a plausible suggestion," Iris considered. "You think that's why they saved the planet from decaying, to preserve the female baby-makers?"
    "Could be. But then a million doors to other questions will open."
    "Like?"
    "Like what do their babies look like?" Zoe said. "Part human, part Beast?"
    "We don't even know what the Beasts look like, so it's unimaginable."
    "And what kind of species are they?" Zoe seemed to like the conversation now. "Are the babies also Beasts, or some second generation creatures? If so, where are they, or shouldn't we see them too?"
    "Then how do you think they choose the girls?" Iris asked. "According to you, they have to be the most fertile."
    "Or beautiful, in case the Beasts are really ugly. They call the girls Brides, right? This sounds like a marriage to me."
    "That's a bit inaccurate," Iris corrected. "We are the ones who called them Brides and Beasts. And it stuck since then. The Beasts never called themselves anything."
    "They could have easily called themselves gods if you ask me," Zoe said.
    "So you really think they choose beautiful girls? Because I went over it in my head today and I noticed not all the girls were airheads." Iris said.
    "Before we even continue this conversation, you need to change your mind about all beautiful girls being airheads. That just isn't true."
    "I didn't say that," Iris said. "But most of them are."
    "No, that's not true either," Zoe insisted. "Elia Wilson for instance, was so close to being the youngest tennis player in The Second. Two years from now she'd have been winning trophies, and she was a ten in the book of beauties."
    "She was?" Iris had never told Zoe about the roses she and her dad left at girls’ doors.
    "See? And many other Brides have been very interesting girls. Besides, I did some research," Zoe said. "Absolute beauty was never the main criteria in choosing."
    "Research?" Iris almost jumped from her chair. "So you do research and never tell me?"
    "I can't tell you, Iris," Zoe said. "You'd keep talking about it all the time. And I want to talk about life, cute boys, and things that matter at my age. Anyhow, now you know, and you'll never stop talking about it."
    "So if not beauty, then what?" Iris was back to the point again.
    "I really don't know," Zoe said. "All I can think of is that the girls have something precious to the Beasts. Something so subtle, none of us can pick it out so easily, unless we've befriended all the girls before they were taken."
    "Which is just impossible," Iris said. "You know what new question just popped in my head?"
    "Enlighten me," Zoe pursed her lips.
    "What if there is something the Beasts are looking for in those girls, and once they find it, collect it, accumulate it or whatever, they have no more need for The Second?"
    Zoe shrugged. “You mean..."
    "I mean that once they take what they want, we will not be of use to them anymore," Iris said. "What if they never saved us? What if they only preserved us, like some lab rats and then," Iris puffed air from the palm of her hands. "Poof."
    "That's some creepy thought," Zoe said. "I don't want to even consider it."
    The silence stole the air from the room for a moment as Iris, like usual, never looked away from Zoe, convinced her conclusion was most plausible. Her stare was too sharp. Zoe didn't know what to do, until a small pebble came knocking on Iris's window.
    "Who could that be?" Iris wondered, walking to the window.
    "It's probably Cody," Zoe said. "Maybe he is embarrassed to knock."
    "Why would he be embarrassed?" Iris pulled the window open, as another pebble hit her in the forehead. She took the hit like a champ, then looked down with anger in her eyes.
    "Sorry," said the voice from below. Iris couldn't believe her eyes. It was Colton.

15
    "What are you doing here?" Iris asked, half-blushing. Colton was down below her window, throwing pebbles so she'd open up. Who'd have