I was a little girl again, seven years old.
“Natalie! Not so close to the water, please!”
I looked up from concentrating on my balance and nearly fell in the canal. A tall man with a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard laughed, his grey eyes turning down slightly in the corners, reminding me a little of my own when I smiled. A slender woman with a heart-shaped face and beautiful, long flowing hair scooped me up into her arms while laughing herself. She cradled me close and touched my nose gently to hers and I could smell flowers, and strawberries, and a thousand other things I hadn’t smelled in ten years. We were walking alongside one of the widest waterways in the city in the Plaza district on a crisp, clear day; Mist, however, swirled around and around us, letting me only see a few dozen yards ahead.
“Mother?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Are… are you real?”
“Of course I am! What kind of question is that?” My mother frowned at me with those huge green eyes and I knew in that instant that, though my body was too small and the ground was transparent, this couldn’t be a dream. The tall man, my father, wrapped us both up in a huge hug, resting his chin upon my mother’s head and smiling down at me as if the world held no evil. In the arms of my mother and father, it didn’t.
“I have to go now.” My father let his arms drop and began to back away from the two of us, expression changing to sadness in an instant. I tried to climb down from my mother’s arms but she held me tightly against her.
“Don’t go!” I cried. I hadn’t talked with my father since I was seven years old, and even then, there wasn’t much to talk about. My father had been a stranger to me, but my mother’s love for him made me love him the same.
“I have to. They are making me leave.”
“Who?”
“You know who.” Step by step he moved backward into the misty white surrounding my illusion. With one last sad smile, he disappeared into the nothingness, just like he had the morning he was killed.
“Will he come back?” I asked, feeling even smaller than my seven-year old size body made me feel.
“No, darling. You must go to him.”
“Where is he?”
“Beyond,” was all my mother’s reply. With gentle arms, she set me back upon my feet and took a step, looking me up and down. “You’ve grown up to be so beautiful.”
“This isn’t my real body,” I said lamely. She just laughed.
“Silly child. I mean in here,” she tapped my chest lightly right over my heart.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I broke the rules.”
“Rules are words big men write on big papers to control small people,” my mother said, gazing off somewhere past me. “What rules did you break?”
“We—Alicia and I—saw something we weren’t supposed to see,” I said softly. “And then we talked about rebellion. Talking about… that… is breaking the rules.”
“Well then, you will just have to find new rules to follow. Rules of the heart.”
“What do you mean?” I couldn’t remember my mother speaking like this when she was alive.
“Be strong. Understand. Fight for those who can’t fight for themselves.”
“That’s all?”
“For now. I must leave too.”
“Can I go with you?”
My mother shook her head slowly and sadly. “No. No one can follow the dead, my child.”
“Don’t go!” I tried to reach out and grab her sleeve, but my arm wouldn’t budge, and nor would my feet when I tried to follow her.
“Go, child. Go find your father.”
“Don’t go!” I shouted again, but nothing could stop her face from silently receding into the mist. Tears began streaming down my cheeks as the world began to spin, softly at first, and then faster and faster. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep the image of my mother’s face in my mind. The spinning just continued to increase until, losing control, I could feel myself vomit, only nothing came out, my stomach continued to lurch and convulse uncontrollably. A pair of hands wrapped themselves around my head and my eyes snapped open, an unknown terror filling my heart.
“Assistant, prepare me a sedative, please.” A round face wearing a white mask over the mouth and nose swam into my view. I tried to shy away but discovered my wrists and ankles were strapped sown securely to some kind of cool, metallic table.
“Where am I?” my words came out garbled and my voice hoarse. I tried to lick my lips but my throat was like a desert and my tongue was swollen with lack of moisture.
“Never mind, assistant. The subject is cognitive… for now. You may go.” Somewhere above me a door opened, then shut.
For now? Nothing about that sentence sounded like good news. One by one, memories of the “security briefing” came flooding back into my head. Unable to help myself, a single tear escaped from the corner of my eye and rolled gently down my cheek. A gloved hand reached across my vision and dabbed it away with a rough cloth.
“There’s no need for that here.” The voice was human, but mechanical and emotionless. With an electronic whirring sound, the top half of the table rose me into a semi-sitting position. The masked face, a man I could see now, moved in front of me, taking a careful seat on a shiny metal stool. “What is your name?”
“Natalie Cross,” I answered automatically. The zapping sound came a split second before my whole body caught fire, from the tips of my toes to the very top of my scalp. It was over in another second and I slumped over, gasping for air.
“Wrong. Names are for citizens. As of this moment, you are no longer a citizen. Now, what is your name?”
“My name… name is… is Natalie.” I said through gritted teeth. “I didn’t do anyt—“ another shock tore through my body and my eyes swam. The masked man stared at me for a long time while I recovered. He was wearing a simple white coat I saw many people at the Dormitory infirmary wear, and a pair of wire-framed spectacles. I only knew the word from a picture I had seen in a textbook; all citizens of Solstice had sensory shortcomings corrected before birth.
“Do you know why you’re here?” I opened my mouth, then shut it again. I had a feeling that no answer I gave would be correct. “Do you know why you’re here?” He repeated, same mechanical monotone echoing through the empty white room.
“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I offered, looking at the floor. I wished I could see Alicia more than anything else in the world; Alicia always knew what to do, ever in the direst of situations. Then again, even she hadn’t been in this much trouble before. In fact, “trouble” didn’t even to begin to describe the case here.
“Wrong.” My body tensed up, waiting for the shock that never came. “You are here because you are a Deviant; plain and simple.”
“How?”
My question seemed to take him aback. “How? You have displayed the inability to be part of a society that conforms to the rules that keep them safe. You cannot be controlled, plain and simple.”
“It was an accident!” I pleaded, straining against my bonds. “We just went to get my friend’s cleaning drone fixed!”
“Ah, and I believe such things are banned from the Dormitory building, correct?” The masked man raised thin eyebrows at me. “There are no such things as accidents in Solstice; wrongdoing is in your genetic material.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The man immediately looked as if he had said too much. A third shock ripped through me, turning over my stomach and making me heave my chin into my chest. Looking down, I became vaguely aware that I was wearing only a thin sterile-feeling gown. A long, angry red welt wrapped itself up the length of my right arm from the Enforcer’s electric baton in the Atrium; miraculously, it didn’t hurt.
“As I’m sure you have surmised, you are now in Rehabilitation. What data we collect over the next few days will be used to determine whether or not you are fit to return to the civilized world. I advise you to be on your best behavior; you probably know what happens if the panel finds your recovery… inadequate.”
We sat looking at each other for almost a full minute. Finally, the masked man stood and fetched a wooden board with papers attached from somewhere behind me. He sat down again and demanded that I recount the morning that we had ventured into wall district. For a brief moment, I considered refusing. Another searing zap changed my mind quickly; clearly the shocks were connected to my thoughts as well as my words. I began my story with how the ferry wouldn’t stop at the last dock in the Plaza District, emphasized how we were trying to find a way back when we realized something was wrong, and gave a very detailed account of the rally in the square, trying to seem as helpful as possible. When I began to describe the tall boy in the black jacket, however, my interrogator’s demeanor changed nearly instantly.
“Can you describe the emblem upon the jacket?” He was scribbling furiously on the paper.
“No, I didn’t get a close look.”
“How tall? Hair color?”
“I don’t know… six feet? Dark hair?”
“Eyes?”
“Excuse me?”
“What color were his eyes, girl?!” It was then, without a doubt, that I realized these people knew, or knew about, Sam.
“Purple. Violet. I’m not sure…” I trailed off, withering under the suddenly scalding look the masked man was giving me. He stood abruptly and pulled a small black transmitter from his pocket.
“Desk, put me through to the Executive.”
I couldn’t help myself; my jaw dropped a little. The Executive… to say he was Solstice’s leader would be an understatement. His face decorated every building in the Administrative District, every textbook in school, and every news screen in the city. It was rumored that he was a descendant of Solstice’s founders themselves; every rule, ordinance, plan, and law was seen and approved by the Executive before they went into effect. No one, and I mean no one, had ever seen the Executive in person. The city’s—no, the world’s—most powerful man was locked away in the tallest building in the city and only spoke to his citizens through the rare public broadcast every several months. All this, and the masked man in front of me was about to give him a friendly call over the transmitter.
This did not bode well.
“I know the rules!” The man was all but shouting into it now, pacing back and forth in an apparent fit of hysteria. “Put me through anyway! This is a code three emergency!”
He turned back and glared at me as if it were my fault he couldn’t get through quickly. The seconds dragged by until a deep, rhythmic voice said something on the other end of the transmitter.
“I’m terribly sorry to have interrupted…. Yes, code three…. I’m here in the Rehabilitation center… yes, sir… Well…” he turned and looked at me long and hard. “According to our subject—yes, that one—she claims to have made contact Number Two.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. The voice started speaking rapidly.
“Yes, yes,” the masked man was trying to keep up. “Yes, in the city. Wall District. The staged incident did indeed draw him out, like you said, but it failed to… er, terminate him.” The voice on the other end said a few word that clearly the man did not like. “Sir, that is a very bad idea!”
The voice exploded in an angry string of what I thought were colorful obscenities. The masked man turned a shade of paper white. “Yes, yes, I’m terribly sorry sir. I realize that. Yes. Right away.” He pulled the transmitter away from his ear and shuddered, pocketing it carefully. “You better not be lying,” he warned in an ominous tone. “The Executive will not appreciate silly tales and false trails. You will be punished.”
“I’m not lying,” I said glaring at him. “Who is this ‘Number Two?’”
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough,” was all the response he gave.
“Will this help my Rehabilitation?” I asked, perhaps a bit too hopefully. The man just smirked. He gathered up his clip board and moved to leave the room. “Wait!” I called out. He stopped and peered at me suspiciously. “Where is Alicia? Is she okay?”
“Who?”
I gritted my teeth. “054330. The girl I was with.”
The masked man shrugged. “The doctor said she didn’t make it.” With that, he disappeared.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. The words echoed through my head again and again… didn’t make it… didn’t make it… didn’t make it.
How could Alicia… how could she be…dead?
Thoughts came to me in pieces. Every part of my body had gradually become numb. It was shock; I knew because the same thing happened the afternoon my Educational Instructors explained to me why I would never be seeing my parents again. Instead, I would never be seeing my best friend again. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to rip my bonds off, climb to the top of the Dormitory, and hurl myself off into oblivion. Of course, I wasn’t strong enough. Instead I just let the despair wash over me like a bucket of icy water. Tears started, just a drop at a time, and increased until a steady stream of salty sorrow was pooling in the creases of my ears.
Alicia wouldn’t have cried, I tried to tell myself. It just made me sob harder.
I was left alone for nearly an hour like this, trying but failing to pull myself together. Alicia was the strong one, the defiant one, the confident one… and now she was gone. Without her, I was nothing; nothing but a submissive, pathetic excuse for a deviant, willing to sell out the boy who had saved my life. My nose was running like crazy and I could only imagine how disgusting I looked when the door opened again and a single man entered the room.
“Ah, Natalie.”
His voice was deep and soothing, yet layered with honey and venom at the same time. He spoke softly, and without accent; clearly an Apex raised with the highest levels of education at his disposal. It took me a moment to realize that I was looking at the single most important man in the city. The Executive was shorter than I thought he should be, only a couple inches taller than my five foot seven inches. His hair was dark and thick, though it appeared to be greying near the temples, and his features were sharp and handsome. He examined me lazily with the most shockingly blue orbs I had ever seen; they had always seemed grey on the public broadcasts. He was wearing a brand new black suit, something only the Apex class would wear, and had on a brilliantly red necktie tucked into his dark jacket.
“Handkerchief?”
I nodded, too emotionally exhausted to care that the Executive was about to watch me wipe a whole bunch of snot from my face. He offered me a pristine piece of cloth and unlocked my left wrist. I used it to clean myself up the best I could, looking at the floor the whole time.
“The facilities manager tells me you’ve had a little run-in with a friend of mine.” He smiled, mouth full of perfectly even, too-white teeth. It was an easy smile; the corners of his eyes didn’t move at all. Again, I nodded, unsure of what to say in his presence.
“This meeting… was it planned?”
I shook my head no. He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head slightly.
“Come on, dear. You must tell me everything if I am to help you.”
“How can you help me?” I sniffed, still trying to avoid his eyes, which were boring into me like icy drills.
“How can I help you?” He just laughed. “Do you know who I am?”
“You are the Executive.”
“Exactly.” He smiled at me again, this one a tad more sinister. “If you cooperate, I’ll be sure that your life goes quite smoothly from here on out; just tell me what you know about Number Two.”
Part of me wanted to tell him everything; more of me, however, wanted to clamp my mouth shut. I didn’t trust him… it was impossible to trust someone with such a thin smile. “Will you promise I can be Rehabilitated?”
The Executive laughed. And laughed. He threw he head back and laughed to the ceiling; high and clear, it gave me all kinds of chills up and down my spine. “Ah, yes,” he smirked. “I forgot you ‘citizens’ believe in that line of fairytales. If it makes you happy, I’ll make sure they pass you through the Rehabilitation board.” He looked at me as if I were a small child, amused and scornful. I couldn’t help myself; I could feel myself growing angry.
“I’m not going to tell you anything,” I growled, turning my head away.
“That’s just as well.” Nothing seemed to faze him. He peered at me thoughtfully before appearing to make up his mind about something. “Well, Natalie, I’m going to let you in on a few little secrets.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he stated simply. “You’re not going to be leaving this place. Not alive, anyway.” Dread instantly filled the pit of my stomach. I strained against my bonds again, making him giggle like some kind of sadistic schoolboy.
“Let me tell you a story, hmm?” The Executive pulled up the metal stool and sat down, crossing his legs elegantly and resting his hands upon his knee. “Long, long ago, my ancestors founded this city. They were rich, intelligent, and, above all, power hungry.” A certain glint teemed in his eye as he made his recount. “They built a city amidst a collapsed civilization, invited people to live there, and began to control them bit by bit. Ever law my great-grandfather, my grandfather, my father, and even myself have made are not about safety; they are about control. Frankly, I don’t give two wits about anyone’s safety. Inside this wall, though, I am a god!
“I control everything in the city, you see. The Enforcers, bless their ignorant, stupid little hearts, believe that my orders allow them to fulfil a duty to keep their citizens safe. My entire staff believes they are in control, that they are the ones giving orders and making decisions for the good of the city. There is no ‘good’ in this city, child; there is only power, and I possess all of it!”
His words were strange to me; he seemed to be a madman, different from any other city official I had ever encountered. The others spoke of security, of duty, and of the greater good. The more the Executive spoke to me of power and of greed, the more I understood: he was using me as a confessor. He was pouring his charade upon me so that he could put up his wonderful façade as soon as he exited the door. He was the only one in Solstice who was telling the truth. The city wasn’t a safe haven; we weren’t free to choose our destiny. Everything was calculated for the pleasure of the most powerful man in the world, who was now delightedly pouring out the evil depths of his soul directly into my ears. I was shocked, shocked by a truth I had not realized until then. The bombing, the Enforcers, the wall, the separation of classes, they were all devices to divide the citizens… the subjects of his sick game. He was like a massive child with a massive colony of ants contained within a walled city, using fear to make us behave. The city was a graveyard of free thought and free will, a bonfire of individuality. We were all the same. We were helpless.
“You must understand, you are all pawns in a game played by much bigger men.” The Executive looked gleeful, like a small child who is receiving a gift for no particular reason. “The masses are feeding from my hand, and that is exactly the way it will stay.”
“Why are you telling me all of this? Why me?”
The Executive leaned forward, hand on his knees, and looked long and hard into my eyes. I didn’t look away. “You and I have a history, Natalie Cross. A score to settle that I will never forget. And mark my words, I will not rest until all my debts have been paid… in blood.”
“I’ve never even met you before!” I protested, growing quickly more afraid of what this man might be planning to do with me. “I wasn’t in Wall District on purpose! The ferry wouldn’t stop!”
“Is that so?” He didn’t move for a moment, just staring at me unblinkingly. Then, with as much viciousness as I imagined one human could possibly muster, he slapped me across the face open-handed, sending my head crashing against the table. My ears rang; cheek immediately beginning to swell, I tried not to burst into pathetic tears.
“The ‘rebellion’ in Wall District was staged!” He was shouting, bursting up off of his stool and stalking madly back and forth in front of me. “It was a trap for those pathetic do-gooders, and a good way to kill off a few pestering Surgo brats as well!” He stopped and moved to where he could press his face nearly up against mine, pounding his fist violently against the metal table. “There are no such thing a coincidences in my perfect world, girl! TELL ME WHERE NUMBER TWO IS!”
I turned my face to the side, pressing myself as flat against the table as I could, wishing I could wipe the spittle from my face. My own terror made me brave. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” I insisted through gritted teeth. “Shock me all you want, I don’t know anything!”
The Executive pushed himself back away from me and retreated a few steps, seeming to regain a little of his sanity as he brushed his suit off, straightened his tie, and took a few measured breaths. “I can see we are getting nowhere with our little talks,” he said, collecting what few of his wits he seemed to have left. “Not to worry; I have many, many ways of getting what I want.”
“What can I do to make you let me go?” My voice sounded small and weak compared to his deep, booming tirades. “What can I give you?”
He laughed again, that same chilling, maniacal laugh.
“Girl, we are past the point of giving. From here on out, I am merely going to take what I want.”
As if on cue, the door opened again and the masked man entered, pushing a large cart covered with a clean white sheet.
“We’ve prepared the articles,” the man said, barely able to contain his apparent excitement. “Remember, sir, the last twelve subjects were terminated in this procedure… I dare say she is more useful to us alive.”
“I have a feeling she’s the one,” the Executive remarked confidently. “She is the weapon we’ve been waiting for. Sedate her, if you would please.”
I tried to shy away from that sadistic medical man, but the bonds didn’t let me budge. I winced as his needle plunged deep into my arm and a warm, tingling feeling began to spread throughout my body. The Executive leaned over me, face falling in and out of focus. The last thing I saw was his evil, leering face smiling triumphantly down at me as I slipped into the abyss.
ns 172.71.254.174da2