Revived

by Sarah Noffke

  “I keep them in various places around the Institute,” Shuman says dispassionately.

  Joseph looks at me and raises an eyebrow before turning back to Shuman. “Ugh, is that safe?”

  An almost smile flicks in her eyes. “It is,” she says, answering his second question. How she does that, I have no clue. Shuman turns without another word and stalks away.

  “I think she has a crush on me,” Joseph says, looking satisfied.

  “You think everyone has a crush on you.”

  “They do...well, not you. That’d be creepy.”

  “Speaking of people who have crushes on you,” I say.

  “He gave me until the end of the year to come out,” Joseph says, shaking his head and writhing a bit.

  “And if you don’t?”

  “Then T man is through with me for good.”

  “So what are you going to do?” I ask, although I already sense his answer.

  “Work on a speech to give at the Christmas feast,” Joseph says.

  “Oh, so you’re going to wait until the last possible moment, huh?”

  “Oh, sis,” he says, draping his arm over my shoulder as we walk. “You know you gotta make them wait with suspense. It makes ’em want you more.”

  “Well, and also you’re scared to death about telling the Institute you’re gay.”

  “I’m tryin’ to give you love advice which you desperately need, so don’t go changing the subject.”

  “I’m good actually. I’ve got the ‘impossible-to-get’ act down.”

  “Oh, that you do,” Joseph says with a whistle.

  Taking a seat in my news reporting recliner I say, “Hey, and why would you think there would be a Christmas celebration at the Institute? None of the Lucidites I know are Christian.”

  Joseph laughs. “And most of the people I know who celebrate the holiday aren’t Christian either. It’s a much needed occasion to wear red and lavish your loved ones with gifts.”

  “Red isn’t my color,” I say.

  “Well, just buy me something really expensive that I don’t need.”

  “You’re making money news reporting now, buy yourself something.”

  “I don’t log as many reports as you since mine are so far in the future. I know you’re pulling in like thirty thousand a week,” he says with a disgruntled huff.

  “Have you ever wondered where the money to fund this place comes from?” I ask, kicking my feet back and forth over the side of the chair.

  “Gosh, Stark, if I wasn’t in your head I’d think you were pretendin’ to be that thick.”

  I give him my usual “what the hell are you talking about” look.

  “Sis, what do you think Pops does when you log a news report with tomorrow’s lottery numbers for the state of Oregon? You think he just swells with pride that his daughter has such a fun gift?”

  “He uses that to make money?”

  “As well as other methods. I mean having a gaggle of clairvoyants gives the Institute information about future stocks, worthy ventures, and not to mention the technology we sell to the US government.”

  “Man, that’s genius,” I say.

  “It’s a good thing I’m gonna take over this place and not you, you’ve got zero business savvy.”

  “Well, hopefully you’ll take pity on me and keep me employed, dear brother.”

  “Oh yeah, you’ll be my bread and butter,” he says with a smile. The space grows comfortably quiet. “Does that mean you’re sticking around even after your two-year sentence is over?”

  “Joseph, wherever you are, that’s where I want to be. So yes, I’m sticking around.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  The following Sunday, as everyone chows down on fresh food, the Head Official for the Lucidite Institute boards the stage in the main hall. My father walks with a new confidence as he makes his way to the center of the platform. Despite the weight he’s lost he appears strong. Before he even takes the microphone in his hand I notice the people in the main hall revolve on him, respect in everyone’s gaze. Had they always looked at him like this? Was it my perspective that kept it hidden from me? Surely people have a new found respect for the man before us, who everyone knows has sacrificed everything to protect the people he loves.

  Every shred of scrutiny that my father ever faced dissipated when the stories began to circulate. The ones about how he’d lost our mother, sent his children away to protect us, and watched over us every single day without fail. And all to shelter us, and to safeguard the fate of the Lucidites. Too many times recently I’ve overheard people in the main hall or the library speaking about my father like he’s a living legend. And it always brings a small smile to my heart, because he truly is. He’s the passion and fortitude that writes the stories of unconditional love.

  “I know everyone here has been through a long and strenuous ordeal,” my father begins in his unemotional tone. “And I’m here to reassure everyone that we will recover from this. I will make sure of it.”

  Trey lets his eyes drift to where Joseph and I sit and I find it difficult to maintain eye contact with him. We aren’t back to normal because before this we had no normal. After hours of sitting with him while he lay in a hospital robe I feel past normal with the man who stands on the stage before me. He isn’t just my father, he’s a leader of a place I’ve realized is my home.

  Trey clears his throat and just when I expect him to run his fingers through his silver hair he keeps his hands firmly planted on the microphone. “All of our enemies are gone. We have survived, although I know we have suffered. We will rebuild. We will heal. We will get past this. I will make it my mission to ensure that every person at this Institute, every Lucidite, has the resources to rise from this challenge. We’re a family. And we will stand together stronger because of what we’ve experienced. If there’s anything that any of you need to do these things that pushes us forward, please come to me personally. Thank you.”

  The brevity in his speech is what ignites the silence that follows. I love that he knows long speeches are not the way to loyal hearts. Lowering the microphone he stares out at the sea of faces, making eye contact with all of the residents. Applause erupts around the hall, but my father quickly quiets it, not looking for the endorsement of his people. His intention was to bolster confidence, not receive it. He pulls the microphone to his chin again. “Dr. Livingston has a couple of logistical reminders for you all, so at this point I’ll hand the microphone off to him.”

  Aiden takes the microphone, his casual nature exuding across the main hall. It might just be me, but he lights up spaces, spreads an energy of passion wherever he is. “Here’s the deal, people,” he begins with a melodramatic sigh. “Even if you’ve used the GAD-C a trillion times, I want you to review the new procedures for how to operate the devices. I have to make this demand of all of you, because A) some of you long-time users are getting a little sloppy and that’s not going to bode well for you.” Laughter explodes from various tables.

  “I’d like to see my nose in a new place for a fun change,” a guy says from the back corner.

  “Yeah, yeah. Not on my watch,” Aiden replies with a chuckle. “And B) I haven’t just been working on my Pac-Man gaming skills while our esteemed leader was recovering, as some of my employees like to joke. I’ve made critical upgrades to the devices and you’ll only be aware of them if you read the new instructions. The specifics on the new functionality are posted beside the machines.” Aiden pauses. His eyes fall to the floor of the stage. The pause lengthens, making people in the room stir.

  Finally, Aiden brings his eyes up and looks at Trey and then out to the rest of the crowd. He pulls the microphone back to his mouth. “Oh, and there’s one more thing. It’s of great importance and something I want to make everyone aware of.” He scans the room as everyone focuses on him, waiting for this specific information. Aiden clears his throat. Fidgets with the microphone. His eyes find me. “I’m relentlessly and inescapably in love with Roya Sta
rk.”

  My eyes widen in shock. Aiden stares out past the prairie of faces, his gaze pinned on only mine. People make noises around me but I don’t pay attention to them. Aiden and I stand alone in the main hall, the only two souls on Earth connected by our gazes. Entangled by a love so pure it erases everything around it.

  I chance a look at my father. His stare bounces between Aiden and me several times. Astonishment writes a new expression on his face, one I’ve never seen before. I guess my father’s intuition doesn’t inform him of everything. I lose the opportunity to take in his next reaction because my attention is assaulted by Aiden as he leaps off the front of the stage and hurries through the cheery Institute residents. Too fast he stands before me. I push out of my chair and walk directly to him, magnetized by a force.

  “That was quite the announcement,” I say, chewing on my lip.

  “Long. Over. Due,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “You wouldn’t believe how many people keep botching up the GAD-C procedures. It’s just a matter of time before someone auto generated with their parts all wrong.”

  I slap him playfully on the chest. We laugh, both of relief and nervousness. People move out of the main hall now, some lurking, watching us. Aiden isn’t the least bit aware of them, his eyes fastened on me.

  “Well…” he finally says. “Now there’s no keeping this thing between you and me under wraps. The secret is out.”

  “Indeed,” I say.

  “So I hope you’ll have me even if I’m unemployed.”

  “Aiden, I will have you any way I can get you.”

  A brilliant smile lights up his face. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. It’s always been you, Aiden. Always. No one else owns my hear––”

  My dad’s sudden appearance by our sides interrupts me. He looks at me and then Aiden, his mouth and eyes pinched. I’m prepared to say whatever I need to defend us. To lay down every excuse to protect this guy I love and the job he loves.

  Trey turns to Aiden. “You know––”

  “Dad, this is––”

  My father holds up a hand, shakes his head at me. “This isn’t something I want your opinion on, Roya. This is an issue between Aiden and me, as he is an employee of the Institute. I would ask that you kindly back out of this conversation,” he says.

  I have no intention of backing out, but I shut my mouth just this once. It’s something about the meaningful expression in my father’s eyes. We’ve come so far and the last thing I want is for us to regress.

  He turns and focuses on Aiden, looks to be calculating something. “Aiden, I believe you’ve taken a big risk to do what you’ve just done. A sacrifice of sorts. You knew that, didn’t you?” my father says, peering at Aiden with a measured glare.

  “Yes, Trey, I did.”

  “How long has this been going on?” Trey asks, his eyes only on Aiden.

  Aiden looks at me and dares to smile. “Since the moment I saw her.”

  “Hmmm,” my father says like a disgruntled sheep. “I see.”

  “Dad––” I interject.

  “Again, Roya, this is not a matter I want your input on.” He steps sideways, his back to me, and half whispers in Aiden’s ear. “Well, I only have one last thing to say to you on the matter and then we will be done. No arguments. Is that clear?”

  Aiden doesn’t say a word, just nods, eyes dripping with tension.

  “After a declaration like that I think you owe my daughter a kiss.” My dad hitches his head sideways, chancing a glance at me over his shoulder.

  “Yes sir,” Aiden says.

  The smile that flits to my father’s face takes a gentle pressure off my heart. He claps a hand on Aiden’s shoulder and leaves.

  Aiden’s eyes land on me at once. “Your father is a wise man,” he says, a giant smile on his handsome face. The main hall is almost empty, but when Aiden steps forward and slides his hand along my cheek I lose sight for anyone but him.

  “I love you,” I whisper. He kisses me. A kiss so brilliant and pure I’m transported. If anyone is still in the main hall watching this expression of love then I believe they are inspired too. Love like this…love like ours, is the kind to dream about. Pray for. Slaughter demons to protect. The love I have for the guy holding me now is more than enough to sustain me always, it’s enough to heal and flourish my heart, set it free to finally allow bliss into my life.

  Epilogue

  Through the years my correspondence with George stayed steady. He knew of my life and happiness. Although at times I sensed his disappointment that it wasn’t with him I think our friendship meant more. It was difficult to convince him to attend the wedding though.

  “George, you’re one of my dearest friends. Please. It won’t be the same without you there.” I knew what I was asking of him was a lot, but many years had passed. Our friendship had deepened, never with a hint of romance. Still, I always knew he was in love with me, always felt it like fabric against my skin.

  “Roya, you’ll ruin your wedding dress by wearing the frequency adjuster.”

  “Oh, there’s no way I’m wearing a wedding dress,” I said, sitting on the dewy grass and enjoying the misty hills of Laos before us.

  “But it’s your wedding day,” he said, taking the seat next to me, legs crossed.

  “Exactly. It’s my day. And I’ll look absolutely ridiculous on top of Mount Kilimanjaro in a fluffy dress. Let Samara wear one for me.”

  “Mount Kilimanjaro, huh?” he said, raising an impressed eyebrow at me. “So Samara will be there?” George inquired casually. He hadn’t returned to the Institute since he left. He once told me that returning would be like going backwards, and it had been so difficult for him to move forward. Now he was in his graduate program at Dartmouth. He stayed closed off from the rest of the Lucidite society, keeping mostly to himself. This was one of the reasons I wanted him at the wedding. I wanted the event to feel complete, and George was a part of the love that had led to my union with Aiden.

  “Of course Samara will be there. Everyone will be there,” I said.

  “Is she your maid of honor?”

  “Do you think for a second Joseph would allow that?!” I laughed. “Joseph elected himself into that role. Trent is Aiden’s best man.”

  George was slow to cover his grimace at the mention of Aiden’s name. “How is Samara? I haven’t seen her since I left.”

  “Good. She married a telepath,” I say, enjoying the brilliant gold sunrise as it kissed the tops of the mountains.

  “What a perfect match,” George said.

  “Maybe we can find you an empath.”

  He lowered his chin. Gave me his trademark punishing stare. “You’re the last person I want trying to make a match for me.”

  “I’m sorry, George. That was insensitive. I only meant––”

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” he interrupted.

  “But I do,” I said, reaching over and grabbing his hand, squeezing it once. “Are you happy?”

  “Roya, I don’t need someone in my life to make me happy. I’m certain I will love again, not like I love you, but I will. Still, I don’t want to search for someone hoping they’ll fulfill a part in me. That’s what you told me, right, before I left?”

  “I told you to stop looking to me to make you happy.”

  “Right, and that goes for everyone else too.”

  We sat quietly listening to the birds. Watching the sun shift, creating new patterns on the mountains. After several minutes of silence George said, “You feel guilty for how things turned out between us.”

  There was no arguing with him and we both knew it. I pressed my lips together and regarded him for a long moment. Finally he said, “Everything I wanted was pinned on you, like you were the bulletin board for my dreams. Do you realize how wrong that is? Don’t feel guilty, because if we would have ended up together, neither of us would have been happy. Love like that is too unstable, it’s destined for disappointment.”

 
His hand was still in mine. I squeezed it and leaned my head on his shoulder, letting out a gentle sigh. “Oh, George…” I said, all my words falling away into the delicate mist.

  ♦

  The wedding didn’t end up being on Mount Kilimanjaro. It had been a lofty idea of mine, but I finally decided I wanted to be married in the flesh. The wedding was held in the only place fitting, the main hall. Garlands of hydrangeas in blues and greens hung around the space. A gazebo was erected in the center of the hall so that our guests sat around it in a circle. And real grass was brought in so that Trey led me down an aisle that felt like it was inside a garden.

  Aiden wore the same tuxedo he had when we danced during the party after the Day of the Duel. And I was somehow persuaded by an unrelenting Joseph to wear an actual wedding dress. It was simple, strapless, and light, since I had the train chopped off.

  My something blue was the sash I wore around my waist which matched Aiden’s eyes. The something borrowed was a set of diamond combs from Samara that she arranged in my pinned up curls. The something new was a necklace of pearls my father had given me that draped in rows around my neck. And the something old was the frequency adjuster which I’d had a pocket sewn into the dress to hold. Even though George said he wouldn’t come, I had put it into the dress anyway. And when I marched down the aisle, my father’s arm almost vibrating around mine, I was relieved to find George staring at me from the second row. Then my eyes found Aiden’s and everyone in the room disappeared from my attention.

  “Aiden is a lucky man,” George had said as we danced through the crowd of happy Lucidites after the ceremony. “I knew he loved you since the moment the frequency adjuster fired up for the first time. I knew you loved him then too.”

  Traumatic relief at his disclosure constricted my chest. When the dance neared the end, he kissed my hand. Suddenly the words I struggled with so many times came out unrehearsed and as natural as the sound of wind. “I love you, George. I always will.”

  He didn’t say another word, just offered me a rare smile, one that made his deep brown eyes light up.