“At first, he didn’t make eye contact, but eventually he was absorbing every word. I think that’s why I said so much. His little eyes searing into me, not speaking. I couldn’t stop. When I finished, he hugged and thanked me. I told him that we are working as a team, that we will figure out what to do from here, and that it was really important not to talk about it. He just hopped up and said ‘I won’t’, then ran back to his group.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“He didn’t say anything about it to me tonight,” Nick says, his face drawn into a concerned expression.
“I know, me either. Let’s talk to him tomorrow. Maybe he just needs time to process.”
Nick yawns, nodding his agreement. “I’m going to head to bed,” he says, standing and stretching his back as he does so.
“What are we going to do, Nick?” I ask.
He looks at the ground. “Talk to me tomorrow. Maybe I need time to process,” he says, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.
82 Kate
I wake early and find the other side of the bed empty. Pulling on a cotton sweater and pants, I start some water boiling for tea. Nick must have gone out for a walk, as I don’t see his shoes by the front door. When the pot whistles, I pour the water over the mint leaves in my mug, inhaling the fresh scent, then move to the patio to watch the sun rise.
It’s been a while since I have been outside this early. Waking up multiple times each night with twins kind of killed my enthusiasm for sunrise. Somehow, without even realizing it, we have transitioned to getting a full night’s sleep most days. I stop mid-drink, realizing that I haven’t had a headache since my memories were restored. Not one. Tears sting the corners of my eyes as I watch the horizon glow orange.
I don’t know what happens from here. I can’t possibly see a solution that Berg will approve, nor can I imagine a world where they would allow Eric and me to be together again, yet I am at peace. My brain is at peace. How is it possible for so much turmoil to swirl around me, and yet for there to be quiet inside my head? And, when all seemed well, for the opposite to have been true?
Pink rays stretch across the sky, flashing around wispy clouds until running out of strength above my head. Everything around me seems to absorb its energy; the flowers open their petals, colors emboldening by the second. Insects wake and follow their sleepy paths around the garden. Birds begin chirping and chattering to one another. The world is more beautiful to me this morning than ever before. The sorrow and hurt within me bring a depth of joy that can’t be logically rationalized. I revel in it, not wanting to miss a thing.
83 Nick
“Thanks for allowing me to come by so early,” I say, entering through the open door.
“Of course,” Shari responds sleepily. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asks, motioning for me to take a seat.
“I just needed someone to talk to, and obviously that can’t be Kate right now,” I answer.
Shari nods, crossing her legs, her loose cotton pants bunching between her knees. “How is she doing?”
“Good, considering,” I say. “As you saw, the reversal is definitely helping, but there hasn’t been much time to analyze long-term effects.”
“Yeah, that’s understandable.”
I sigh. “Shari, do you think we’re doing the right thing? I know the Director cited research and obviously understands this better than we do, but what if we’ve put all of our energy into one track when we should be diversifying?”
Her eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?” she asks.
“I mean, our Committee is utilizing extra resources because we believe this system will work indefinitely. Think about it. What system can you point to that lasted indefinitely? None. Over the course of history, they all imploded. And all for the same reason.”
“A reason that was out of their control,” she counters. “It wasn’t their system, it was the external factor—the war, the disease, the rebellion.”
“No, it wasn’t that. It was their inability to adapt to the myriad external factors—”
“But we have already proven that we can adapt. And our results have been phenomenal.”
“And what happens when we are faced with something new? Our Tier is homogenous, Shari, and it will only continue to become more so. Not just homogenous genetically, but mentally as well. I haven’t been on the Committee long, but it seems like the Director really doesn’t appreciate people who question.”
“I ask questions all the time, Nick,” Shari points out.
“There are questions, and then there are questions,” I counter. “Your queries are practical. Informational. They aren’t tearing at the very fabric of what we’ve built this system with.”
She shakes her head. “You aren’t always present for my discussions with Grace and the Director. Be satisfied in knowing that I am not always so easy going.”
I nod. “Good to know. But back to my original thought. Do you think this system is right?”
Shari huffs, exasperated. “I don’t know what you are getting at, Nick. Of course it’s right. Is it perfect? No, but we are constantly working to make it so. And I think we’ve accomplished some pretty incredible things on the journey—”
“I’m not denying that,” I cut in, “but the Committee as a whole feels...how can I describe it properly? It feels less like a collaboration and more of a dictatorship.”
Shari laughs, loud and unabashed. “Nick, I get it. At first, I had the same impression. Obviously new members are treated with caution, but give it some time. You will become an equal member in everyone’s eyes in no time. Especially with this new research you are presenting. Next week right?”
I watch her, attempting to hide my disappointment. Somewhere, deep down, I really believed that Shari would be an ally. That some part of her would acknowledge the inappropriate actions of the Director. And that somehow, this would provide some shred of hope that there could be an opportunity to patiently work for change from within.
“Yep, next week. Can’t wait,” I say, forcing a smile. “Thanks for letting me hash this out. Everything is so new—”
“Don’t think too hard about it,” she says. “Take some time to relax with your family while Kate heals. You’ve been working really hard, Nick.”
“That’s not a bad idea. In fact, I was thinking about requesting resources to visit my father. What is the process for that?”
“You’re still thinking too much! Just send a message to the Committee letting us know where and when you are going, then submit a list to Faye. She will set up your flight and help with anything else you may need.”
“It’s that easy?”
“Yep,” she says, obviously pleased with herself.
“Alright,” I say, standing. “Will do. Thanks again, Shari. I better get home.”
“I am sure Kate is wondering where you are,” she says, one eyebrow raised.
“As long as I get home before the girls wake up, she won’t miss me,” I joke. As the door closes behind me, I breathe, centering myself. On to plan B.
84 Eric
“Dad,” I hear above me, my eyes slowly starting to focus. “Dad, hey, I think you need to get up,” Tal says, his eyes pleading with me.
“Tal, I need to sleep—”
“Dad, you have been sleeping for nearly two days. You’ve missed your service assignment and I have been stalling for you. I told Kip you were throwing up when he stopped by yesterday. I lied Dad. For you,” he admits, exasperated.
“Tal, I’m—”
“You can talk to me when you are up and showered. Go. Now!” he commands and my eyes widen. Without thinking, I force myself up and walk toward the washroom. That. Was impressive.
Closing the door, I brace myself against the sink and move my face close to the mirror. I look like I have aged a year, with deep blue circles under my eyes, almost a week of stubble on my chin, and a general grey tint to my skin tone.
“Get a hold of
yourself, Eric,” I think. How did this one thing set me over the edge? One ridiculous message and suddenly I am non-functional? But the thought of getting up sounded impossible. All I want to do, even now, is curl up in a ball and close my eyes.
Taking a deep breath, I stand up straight and peel my clothes off, sticky with sweat and dirt from earlier in the week. Dropping them to the floor in an untidy pile, I turn the knob and step into the shower, allowing warm water to cascade around my body. Sighing audibly, I move farther into it, imagining it washing away all of the frustration and hopelessness that has run rampant within me over the past few days.
When the water shuts off, I dry myself and wrap the thin towel around my waist, having forgotten to bring clothes in with me. Exiting into the bedroom, I find Tal sitting on my bed.
“You look—and smell—much better,” he says, nodding his approval.
I clench my teeth, trying not to allow my emotions to get the better of me. “I’m sorry, Tal—”
“Will you please tell me what’s going on?” he nearly shouts. “One day you are totally normal and then, all of a sudden, you’re not getting out of bed. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Can I put some clothes on first?” I ask.
“Fine, but the bed is off-limits,” he teases.
“I promise. I’ll change and come out to the kitchen. We can eat and talk, okay?”
“We don’t really have any food in the house, but that works,” he mutters. “I did pick up eggs yesterday, so at least we won’t starve.”
As he marches out of the room, I drop the towel and get dressed as quickly as possible. With that attitude, I don’t want to give him any other reason to barge in here and make me feel more guilty.
Walking into the kitchen a few moments later, I find Tal cooking up a few eggs on the stove.
“Thanks,” I say softly.
“For what?” he asks, unimpressed.
“For the eggs. And making me get up. I feel better now that I’ve showered.”
He nods, scraping the pan with the spatula.
“A few days ago, I got a really weird message. I wasn’t able to track the sender, and the next day it was gone. It honestly freaked me out, Tal,” I explain.
“What was it about?”
“Kate. It was about your mom.”
He stares at me, then, remembering his task, removes the pan from the heat. “What about Mom?” he asks calmly.
“It really doesn’t matter,” I say. “It wasn’t true.”
“Tell me what it said, Dad,” he says, lifting half of the eggs onto each plate and passing one to me.
I sigh. “It said that she is still alive.”
Tal drops his plate, sending egg particles splashing across the counter. Without reacting, I scoop them back onto his plate.
“Do you still want these? I’m not sure if the counter was clean—”
“Yeah, I want them,” he answers, pulling the plate toward him.
“Tal. It’s not true, and I can’t figure out who would send a message like that. When it disappeared from my sensor, I lost it. The emotional side of my brain completely took over. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“It’s fine, Dad. I survived.”
“This time, but what if it happens again?” I ask, shaken. “I don’t know what to do, Tal. I was completely out of control.”
Tal looks at me, his eyebrows furrowed. “What if it is true, Dad?”
Taking a bite of egg, I shake my head. “I’m going to run to the distribution center for our weekly portions. Want to come?”
“No, I’ll clean up here,” he says. Setting my plate down, I pick up a canvas bag and head to the door.
As soon as I step outside, I am lighter. The fresh air seems to heal my soul, cleansing me from the inside out. My walk, while slow in the beginning, gains energy as I near the Center. I’m probably fine? My behavior over the last few days was some strange anomaly. Things will go back to normal. Right?
Moving into the line, I wait, surprised at how busy it is today. What day is it? I realize I have no idea. Tal said I had missed my assignment for two days, so that must put me at the end of the week, though I honestly can’t remember when I went last. It feels like a year ago.
Tal’s question rings in my mind. What if it is true? I immediately reject the thought. It can’t be. As much as I want it to be, it’s not possible. And why would she have been taken from me while I was made to believe in her death? None of it makes any sense.
Reaching the front, I scan my sensor.
“Late this week, hey?” the woman asks, smiling.
“Yep, sorry about that,” I say apologetically.
“Nothing to be sorry about. Are you doing ok?”
I nod.
“Have you checked in with your health specialist recently?” she questions.
“I don’t—I’m not really close to the cutoff, so I don’t do that often,” I answer.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” she says, handing me my portions. Layering them into my sack, I thank her and retreat to the path.
My mind is blank most of the way home, wandering aimlessly while my body is on autopilot. Suddenly, I am yanked sideways, my sack falling to the ground with a thud. As I whip my head around, something is pulled over my eyes and a sweet, thick scent invades my nostrils. My vision fades as I slump to the ground.
Blinking, I slowly focus on the room around me. My head is fuzzy and movement is difficult, but I begin to take in details. White walls, a low hum, soft light from an open bulb above my head. Movement near the door causes me to move my head quickly to the left, sending my equilibrium swimming and muddying my vision.
“Hey Eric, glad you’re awake,” a man’s voice says softly. “I’m so sorry about the way I had to get you here, but it was the only way to maintain anonymity. I hope you’ll trust me on that.”
Still clenching my eyes closed, I ask, “Where’s Tal?”
“He’s here too, safe. Don’t worry.”
“What is going on?” I ask as something hits my fingertips.
“It’s a glass of water,” I hear. “Drink some and then we’ll talk.”
Not hesitating, I raise the glass to my lips and gulp the cool liquid, desperate for it.
“Do you need more?” he asks when the glass is empty.
“Maybe in a minute,” I say, my voice hoarse. Opening my eyes, I can see him now. A young man with broad shoulders, handsome. Impeccable bone structure. “Where am I?” I ask.
“You are in a Tier 2 rehabilitation center, not far from your home.”
Realization dawns on me. “Is this because of the last couple of days?” I ask. “I have been sick, but I feel much better today. I went down to—oh, I think I dropped my portions,” I say in regret.
“We got them, don’t worry. They are back at your house,” he explains, his voice suddenly warm and kind.
I nod. “Things are much better today. I don’t think you need to worry—”
“This has nothing to do with the past few days, Eric, but I do agree that you look like you’ve been sick. And you are much skinnier than when I last saw you, which doesn’t help with my own levels of guilt—”
“Who are you?” I interject, thoroughly confused.
“I am a friend,” he says, and instantly my stomach clenches, thinking of the message.
“Did you—”
“I did.”
We stare at each other in silence.
“Why?” I plead.
“Because it’s true, Eric.”
Tears again form in my already tired eyes. “I can’t—”
“I know, and you don’t have to believe me. I am not going to force this knowledge on you. Too much has been done without your consent already,” he admits, running his hands through his hair. “The truth is, I don’t have permission to be here, and I honestly don’t know how long I will be able to get away with it. Do you know what this machine is?” he asks, motioning to the equipment sitting
next to me.
“I think it’s a reversal therapy machine.”
“Correct. Do you know what it’s used for?”
“They use it to eliminate trauma, typically just portions of it—softening it so that people can heal.”
“True. It can be used to eliminate anything, really. Even to create memories if desired.”
“That’s incredible,” I say, shifting forward on my seat. “That could do so much good—”
“Always the optimist,” he sighs. “You’re right, but I have recently discovered that it has been used on unwilling subjects—”
“Sometimes that is necessary, if individuals are unwilling to move forward,” I argue.
“Eric, I promise. I’m going somewhere with this,” he pleads.
“Right. Limited time. Sorry.”
“There are people in Tier 1 who are using this technology for their own purposes. Completely unethically, in my opinion. But regardless of whether you think that’s possible, let’s talk about you. I’m not going to mince words, so try to stick with me. Eric, you and Kate were split without consent. You are Tier 1 and so is Tal, but you were moved to Tier 2 after your memories were adjusted. Mostly to keep you from seeing Kate again, but also because the Committee knows how hard you work. Kate is alive, Eric. She loves you. I came here to assess whether you want that life back.”
The room seems to shift around me, a million questions darting through my brain at once. I close my eyes again, attempting to calm the clamor.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but we don’t have much time. Yes or no?”
“How do I answer that?” I exclaim. “I don’t even remember the life you’re talking about, let alone know whether I want it. If Kate is alive, I want her. But it’s impossible! I don’t know who you are, I don’t know where my son is!” I shout into the ether.
“Yep, I know. You’re going to have to trust me,” he answers calmly, ignoring my outburst. “Would you like your memories back?” he asks, his eyes searing into mine. How can I say yes to this? Could this be some elaborate ploy to ‘fix’ whatever has been going on? Did Tal call the center, worried about me?
Tier Trilogy: Books 1-3 Page 42