Fractures (Echoes)

by Alice Reeds

  The silence grew painful, the air being sucked out of the room with every breath each of us took. I wanted to tell him to fuck off, ask what all of this was supposed to be. But I couldn’t.

  Fiona had told me she couldn’t stand up to male authority figures, and finally I understood what she meant. I hated it, for my sake, and hers.

  “We’ve been meeting in the room with the ocean view,” Ivy said, breaking under the pressure of Doc Bowie’s stare, her words like a dam breaking after the first fissures and cracks ran across it. “We did it to help Oscar and Kellie remember who they are. It’s been going really well so far.”

  A beautiful lie, better than anything I could have come up with, but would her shaky voice expose her, or was there a chance Doc Bowie would believe it? Nothing showed on his face, and he still didn’t speak.

  Ivy continued, “We haven’t done anything we’re not allowed to do, but we know we shouldn’t necessarily be in that specific part of the Villa.”

  Doc Bowie just barely nodded his head at that. “Then, Ivy, tell me, why would you choose that spot if you know it’s not part of the area you’re allowed to wander?”

  “It’s the only place with enough space and privacy,” Wakaba jumped in, all eyes suddenly turning to her.

  “You could’ve met in either of your rooms,” he pointed out, a valid argument. We could’ve but hadn’t.

  “It seemed like a better choice, avoiding unwanted attention from the others. Plus, Kellie and Oscar liked it. The view is calming.”

  Doc Bowie stayed quiet again, as did Ivy and Wakaba, their words and lies hanging in the air like poison waiting to slither into our lungs and suffocate us.

  “It’s very interesting you’d say that,” he began, his tone calculated, suspicious, thoughtful. “Kellie and Oscar liking that room in particular, and that their memory is supposedly slowly returning. It’s even more interesting when you consider the fact that Kellie vehemently refused to even go near that room after the incident.”

  We were screwed in every imaginable way. As much as Ivy and Wakaba could come up with some kind of vague explanation for everything else, how could we explain this? What kind of incident was he even talking about? Only worse was the fact that we didn’t have a way of telling if what he said was true, in the context of the story they made up for our supposed lives, or if it was a trick question designed to test and expose us.

  “Being there, it was almost a little therapeutic,” Fiona suddenly said, her voice steady, clear, a shade of honesty almost a little too real, bordering on fake, but exactly what we needed. “We’ve been trying a little more every day, a step or two, a minute at a time so I wouldn’t get overwhelmed.”

  “That so?” Was he actually buying it?

  Hell, I almost did.

  Fiona nodded, her eyes cast toward the floor, feigning shyness. “Ivy, Wakaba, and M-Oscar have been very helpful in trying to get over the trauma.” I squeezed my eyes shut at her slipup. So close, yet so far.

  “I must applaud you, that was very convincing…well, at least to an extent,” Doc Bowie said while Fiona cursed under her breath. “Then again, you’ve never been a good liar.”

  Would punishment follow now, twice as bad because of the lies?

  “You may not return to that part of the Villa again, and I want you to consider this as your final yellow card.” A soft-spoken threat, his tone too kind to match his meaning. “Go against the rules in any way again, and you’ll be out, regardless of your simulations. We do not tolerate insubordinate behavior.”

  “We’re really sorry,” I said, “and we really did nothing bad there, just talked, nothing more.”

  “Even if that’s true, I’m still disappointed in you—all of you. But you especially, Oscar. You’ve always been a good boy.” His words made me feel like a dog trained to obey and was now scolded for doing something that was simply in a dog’s nature. My words were the smallest of lies, practically true, more of an omission really.

  “Time to leave,” one of the guys who’d led us here announced, his voice so much louder and more intimidating than even Doc Bowie’s threat. The four of us turned almost in unison, ready to leave as quickly as possible.

  “One more thing,” Doc Bowie said, my heart sinking. Had he changed his mind after all? “While I see your behavior as failure to comply and something I don’t want to see again, I’d ask all of you to be on your best behavior from now on. Wakaba,” he said sharply, and she flinched as she turned to face him squarely. “You, I’m afraid, need to stay. I warned you what failure meant.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The Villa

  How had things gone from bad to this much worse so quickly? I could barely wrap my head around what happened. We made it to our room, Ivy looking ready to fall apart and fight anyone who’d get in her way at the same time, and Fiona looking at me for answers none of us had.

  “He can’t mean what I think he did, can he?” Ivy asked shakily. Fiona guided her to one of the beds to sit down.

  Failure. Wakaba was on her second trial, which meant she wouldn’t get any more chances. It was over for her if that was what Doc Bowie truly meant, no matter how much I refused to even consider it.

  “I don’t know,” Fiona finally said. “As much as I want to say no, chances are he might’ve.”

  “Oh my God!”

  Fiona grimaced. “But I might be wrong and things aren’t as bad as we think.”

  “We have to do something to help her.”

  “Actually,” Fiona began and then explained our plan to Ivy. She hung on every word she said as if Fiona were sharing the most profound wisdom she’d ever heard. Having our plan work out was important before, but now with Wakaba in danger and Leon being gone, it was pivotal.

  While the two of them spoke, I sat down at our table, pulled out the tablet, and waited for one or both of our mothers to pick up.

  “Are you okay?” my mother asked, worried. “What took you so long?”

  Quickly, I gave her a rundown of what happened.

  “Doc Bowie told Wakaba to stay behind, implied that it was because she failed her simulation,” I said, then paused for a second to look at Fiona. She was still talking more at Ivy than with her. I added, “It was Wakaba’s second trial.”

  “And you think that’ll actually work out?” Ivy asked, her voice raised, loud enough even for the tablet to pick it up.

  “What’s she asking about?” my mother asked, her brows pulled together.

  “Fiona just updated her on our plan, the one we talked about last night, and it sounds like she isn’t quite convinced.”

  Considering Doc Bowie hadn’t asked us to stay, too, it was obvious we hadn’t succeeded with “killing” ourselves. Perhaps failing the simulation wasn’t that easy, or our simulated selves were too afraid and doubtful to follow our request. There were so many possibilities, so many factors to be taken into account; the outcomes were limited in number, but the doubts and issues along the way were infinite.

  “Speaking of which,” Alessia said, rolling into the frame, “your mother and I discussed your plan last night and earlier today.”

  “And?” I moved across the room, then sat on the floor with my back against the bedframe. Fiona and Ivy slipped down next to me so they were in the frame on the tablet as well.

  “As risky as it may be, we think it might work out and give us all the intel we need. If you manage to break the simulation, that is.”

  “Good, because we already tried it last night,” Fiona said quietly, like a confession.

  “What?” my mother asked, visibly tensing up. “Why didn’t you wait for our decision?”

  I frowned. “You agreed, so why does it matter?”

  I didn’t like the prospect of Briola deeming us failures any more than they did, but it had to be done. And here I used to think navigating fake friendships w
as hard. Life used to be so simple, and I was so ungrateful for hating it.

  “Because it’s not as simple as we, or you, initially thought,” Alessia said almost a little hesitantly, her eyes wandering over the screen as she looked at each of us one after the other. “We need you to do something to prepare, and now with you having already set the first part of the plan into motion, we can only hope you’ll have enough time to get everything done.”

  “And what would that be?” I asked.

  “Here’s the plan.” She took a deep breath. “Create a loophole for us on their servers so we can get access to their data, have a look at what they’re doing, make sure we’ll be exactly where we need to be once the auction happens, and find out who is pulling those particular strings.”

  There was no air, my heart feeling as though someone had tied rope around it and then pulled it as tight as they could. Out of the three of us, there was only one with the skills needed to get something like that done—hacking—and it was me. And hell, I wasn’t positive that this was something I could do without getting caught. This was a task Leon would be perfect for, but he was gone.

  Again.

  “Well, shit,” Ivy said, and I could feel her eyes on me, burning my skin, but I couldn’t face any of them.

  “We know where the IT floor is,” Fiona said. “We were there when we figured out the email. We didn’t see any signs that pointed toward any server room or whatever, and we can’t eavesdrop on the staff.”

  Surviving the island seemed like such an easy task compared to this.

  “All hope isn’t lost yet,” my mother said, her tone far too sanguine for the issue at hand.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Leon—”

  “Is gone,” I finished for her.

  “True.” She nodded. “But we still have the information he gave us. According to what he said, the server room is on the IT floor, and he also once mentioned a room number…” She looked to the side as if trying to remember.

  “One forty-five,” Alessia supplied.

  “Thank you! One forty-five, yes, but he wasn’t too sure anymore, since they moved the servers shortly after he looked into your first simulations during their final preparation phase.”

  “Our only lead is a possibly wrong room number?” Fiona asked, sounding about as convinced as a cat by the prospect of jumping into the ocean. “And what if that room is now some kind of staff break room? Then we’re dead-ass literally screwed.”

  “It’s the best lead we have. Leon said they should still be in a room in relative proximity to one forty-five, since it wouldn’t make sense to transfer them somewhere else, while the personnel areas you’re thinking of are in a completely different part of the building.”

  “I guess if we go at night, we should be able to avoid running into staff, regardless of what rooms we enter. Otherwise Dawid wouldn’t have led us down there.” I wasn’t too sure what to make of the fact that our mothers were slowly convincing Fiona this was the right thing to do. If I could pull it off, it likely would be…but if not?

  “If this is the plan you think will work, we have to do it,” Ivy said, her tone urgent. “We have to do it for Wakaba.”

  Again, I felt their eyes on me. While no one explicitly said it, we all knew it, and now they waited for me to decide—agree or disagree. Damn it.

  “How about this,” my mother said after exchanging a look with Alessia. “Think about it, make your decision, Miles, and then let us know. We don’t want to pressure you into deciding too quickly, okay?”

  I nodded, unable to say anything, and then faked a smile toward Fiona and Ivy once we disconnected the call.

  …

  Dinner came and went, and I was grateful we couldn’t talk about any of this outside our room. Instinctively I searched for Leon, despite knowing he wasn’t there, and avoided looking at Ivy as much as I could.

  The full weight of the responsibility our mothers wanted to entrust me with didn’t quite hit me until we were back in our room. Ivy had gone to her own, leaving me alone with Fiona. The space was too small, her gaze too searching, the knowledge that I should talk to her burning on my skin and in my mind. I’d promised I would, but the doubts poisoning my thoughts were too big to voice, too selfish, all of them exposing me as a coward, pathetic and stupid.

  Could I actually pull this off? If we managed to get to the servers, were my abilities good enough to hack my way through all the layers, to create just a small backdoor for our mothers? I’d hacked my father’s bank account more times than I could remember, wandered through our school servers just for fun, practiced so many different things with Leon, and after he was gone, always chasing the unattainable goal of being as good as him. I used to think I was, or could be, but…

  “What if I can’t do this?” I finally asked, my voice breaking. I didn’t dare look at Fiona, just stood in the middle of the room with my eyes glued to the floor.

  “You need to stop doubting yourself like a coward,” Fiona said, her tone sharper than usual, taking me by surprise.

  I looked up at her, my jaw going slack for just a moment. “A coward? Well I’m sorry that I’m not too keen on the idea of potentially being shot again.”

  “So what? Just because of that you want to sit around and whine?” She crossed her arms, the expression in her eyes challenging. “Look at it this way—there is no guarantee of being shot. Chances are they might not catch you, and you’re being all ‘worry and negative’ for absolutely no reason at all. If I had gone into every fight worrying about losing, that’s what I would’ve done. You create what you don’t want to happen by thinking about it happening. And it goes both ways. You also create what you want to happen by thinking about it happening.”

  “This is different, though,” I argued, my prior worry slowly being pushed aside by anger, or at the least a feeling of not being understood.

  “How?” she said.

  “Unlike during a fight in a tournament, there is no ref present to make sure everything is fair, that no one breaks the rules. There are no rules here to begin with. I’m powerless against them if we get caught.”

  Fiona shook her head and slowly paced the room, the very action alone making me only more anxious, confused, conflicted. I didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking, didn’t like arguments, regardless with whom, and even less so with her.

  “You have one choice,” Fiona eventually said and stopped in the middle of the room, her eyes finding mine. Where usually she’d smile, her face was a void now, a near-blank expression all she offered me. “Either you pull yourself together and do it, believe in the skills you have, or you stay a coward. Sounds harsh, doesn’t it? But that’s what it comes down to. Think about it, if you choose the latter, Wakaba is done for, and we will be soon, too, and then what? Is your fear of getting shot really greater than that of being sold to people who might do way, way worse things than that? Is that option truly better than just fucking doing this and taking that risk?”

  “I don’t want to die.” It was a stupid argument, even if the fear itself wasn’t. I feared the pain, the consequences, everything, anything, all the things that could go wrong, and above all, I feared facing my own possible failure and losing her.

  “You might die trying, and you might die if you don’t, just later and in a much more horrific way. For someone who’s always been so cocky, I never expected you to be so scared of things. Maybe that’s why they thought we would work for Project EROS. We’re opposites. I’m the strong one and you’re—”

  “What?” I asked, not quite sure if I understood her. But really, all it did was make my heart heavy, prior doubts crawling out of their holes again. “Fiona, what are you…?”

  Her eyes widened as if just realizing what came out of her mouth, and then she shook her head and turned toward the window, staring out into the darkness. “Nothing. Forget I sai
d anything about that fucking project.”

  But what if she was right, the two of us merely a match according to their statistics and theories yet not something that would ever work outside of their project? No matter how much trust we had in each other, maybe some things would always remain in our way, her nature and upbringing so different from mine.

  No. That couldn’t be right; I refused to believe it. Hallucinations like auditory and visual simulations, fine, but manipulating our feelings, too? No way. I really liked her, loved her, and it had nothing to do with Briola and their crazy projects and tests and trials. I doubted any simulation could manipulate me into doing something potentially reckless simply because I wanted to not lose her, not lose us.

  They say love makes you stronger, and perhaps it was time to put those words to the test.

  I would prove it, my feelings, my abilities, no matter how loudly my father’s voice suddenly echoed through my head, his words reminding me of all my shortcomings and failures in his eyes.

  I would prove it, to her. But, above all, to myself.

  I used to be a coward, but I refused to be one now. The temptation was there, within reach, so inviting, but I couldn’t do it. She was right. Even if it was the safer option, it didn’t mean it was the right one.

  “I’ll do it,” I finally declared, my voice firm, devoid of doubt, leaving no room for discussion or questions. “I hate trusting others, and I know you feel just the same, but this…this is where it ends. I don’t care if our feelings started as part of Briola’s sick ideas, it doesn’t matter, because I know what I feel now, and they didn’t do shit about it. They controlled us for most of our lives, destroyed and twisted us to fit their agenda, and I don’t want to be part of this anymore.”

  Fiona turned to look at me as I spoke, a smirk gradually growing on her lips, a fire igniting in her eyes. Had this been her plan all along, her reason for calling me out?