by Mari Mancusi
I glance at Dawn, but he says nothing.
The Eclipsers all nod, appearing pretty excited about the plan. I smile, happy that I’m going to be able to help. I may not be a grade-A revolutionary leader, but I certainly can stand in front of a crowd and wave or something. And maybe that really will push their fight forward. Then I’ll be able to go back to Earth knowing I’ve made a difference.
Satisfied, I glance again at Dawn. My face falls as I realize he’s not sharing everyone’s enthusiasm. In fact, his face remains tight, his expression frosty. My enthusiasm wanes as I realize I’ve disappointed him. But what can I do? He’s asking for way too much. I can’t live my life playing the part of his amnesiac girlfriend. In the end, it’ll be better if he’s able to just let go, to forget Mariah and all the pain she caused him and move on with his life. And me being around only serves to remind him of all he’s lost—my presence bursting open the scabs time and time again, and his wounds never healing.
And besides, at the end of the day, no matter how sweet he is, how devoted he seems, he doesn’t even want me. He doesn’t want Skye Brown, the person I am. He’s simply searching for Mariah’s soul when he looks deep into my eyes. That’s not fair to me. I deserve someone who will love me for who I am, not who he wishes I were.
“Then it’s settled,” the woman says. “And now, I guess, since you don’t remember us, Mariah, some introductions are in order.” She pats herself on the chest. “I’m Ruth,” she says. “I’m the geographer. You need to get somewhere in Terra, you need a rabbit hole, call me and I’ll get you where you need to go.”
“And I’m Kayce,” the bearded man beside her pipes in. “Techno-geek of the group. You need a gadget, I’m your man.”
“You can call me Hiro,” says the young Asian man at the back of the room. “I’m the weapons specialist. You want to relearn how to swing that sword on your belt, you come to me.”
The others introduce themselves and their roles. Each has a different area of expertise or skill set. Together they seem to form a pretty dynamic group. I can see why they’ve had some successes, even though they are completely outnumbered by their oppressors.
“So, what was Mariah, then?” I ask. I’m still not able to use the first person when talking about my alter ego, even though they would probably prefer it.
“The inspiration,” says Ruth with a small smile. “And the planner. You chose our fights and decided which objectives we would pursue when, and which were best left for another day.”
“One of those objectives was Moongazing,” I conclude.
Kayce nods. “You were never a fan of any government programs, but after Senator Duske introduced Moongazing, you decided to make it your ultimate crusade. You insisted that if Earth was such a great place, then everyone had the right to go, not only the rich.”
I realize this is a chance to get some answers. “So those people—the rich—who Moongaze to Earth—do they all lose their memories?” I almost add like I did, but chicken out at the last minute.
“Depends,” Hiro says. “If you’re just going as a tourist, trying it out, you retain all of who you are. Of course, it’s strictly forbidden to run around Earth telling everyone you’re from another plane of existence. You’ve probably heard of people who have tried that—they get locked up pretty quick!” He chuckles wryly. “The idea is to blend. So when you finally commit and buy a permanent relocation package, you’re allowed to choose from a variety of new professions. Actress, socialite, artist, stockbroker, what have you. The ‘Gazer agents then set you up with a new life, based on your specifications.”
“But do you remember your old life?” I ask again, not satisfied with his roundabout answer.
Kayce shrugs. “Supposedly. But who knows? No one making the permanent migration ever comes back. We only get scattered reports from the tourists. And since they always enter and leave from the same point—some nightclub, I guess—most never have time to venture outside the neighborhood they’re dropped in. So, chances are they’ll never run into the ‘Gazing lifers, who are likely spread out all over Earth.”
“This is all theoretical,” Ruth pipes in. “We’re not sure of all the details. That’s why you started ‘Gazing to begin with—to figure out how it all works. After all, you said you didn’t want to advocate something you’d never tried yourself.”
“This club,” I say slowly, “it’s not called Luna by any chance, is it?” It’s a needle in a haystack with all the thousands of Manhattan clubs, but somehow I know I’m right.
Hiro snaps his fingers. “That’s it,” he says. “Why? Have you been there?”
I sit back in my metal chair, stunned. This is why Luna, which had once been a hole in the wall, had recently become the most popular club in town. I had blamed the Guest of a Guest writeup, but maybe that wasn’t it at all. Maybe it had become a launching point for denizens of an alternate universe. After all, it was the place where I’d recognized the man from my nightmare. And I had blacked out there and woken up on Terra.
“Are the ‘Gazers pretty well off when they jump to Earth?” I ask, remembering how the crowd had changed at the club from raver kids to high society practically overnight.
“Oh yes,” Hiro says. “You get money. Especially if you’re migrating permanently. You see, the government lets you try it out a few times, a few days here or there to see if you like the place. But when you finally commit, you’re required to hand over all your Terran possessions to the government.”
“And in exchange for giving up all your Terran possessions, you receive a bank account number to be used on Earth,” Kayce jumps in. “That’s your startup capital. After all, Terrans are essentially homeless, illegal aliens when they first arrive. But the government supposedly takes pretty good care of you, and you’re certainly not forced out starving on the streets.”
“So when you first get there, you’re just wandering around, undocumented?” I ask.
“Yes. That’s your first quest, from what we understand,” says Ruth.
“Quest?” I scrunch my eyebrows. “What do you mean, ‘quest’?”
Hiro shrugs. “Um, like a mission, I guess? From what we understand, Terrans are given a list of tasks to accomplish when they first reach Earth. They’re rewarded for accomplishing these tasks with things like driver’s licenses, Social Security cards, and money.”
I stare at him. “It sounds like a game.”
“Well, it is sort of, right?” Kayce says. “The game of life.” He laughs. “I think the government is just trying to make things more interesting so ‘Gazers will want to stay forever. After all, if they came back, the government would have to return all their money. I doubt they’re very interested in doing that.”
“They don’t have to worry,” pipes up the pierced boy who earlier introduced himself as Taryn. “No one ever comes back. Except you. And we had to pull you out by force.”
“True,” agrees Hiro. He looks a bit resigned. “Anyway, that’s about it. The Indys are evacuating Terra on a daily basis. The government is taking over all their assets—houses, land, the works. The Circle of Eight claims the people are migrating to a better world—”
“But if that’s true, how come none of them ‘Gaze?” finishes Kayce. “That’s the question.”
“And that’s part of what Mariah was trying to find out,” I conclude.
“Yes. But if you ever did learn the reason, you never told any of us,” Ruth admits. “And shortly after that, you were taken from us.”
“What a horrible night,” Hiro says solemnly. “The government kidnaps you and decimates our attempts to sabotage their seminar, all in one blow.”
“Such an odd coincidence,” Dawn mutters under his breath so only I can hear.
“But now we’ve brought you back!” Ruth crows. “An unquantifiable success for our team. We can only pray that your return—even if it’s only temporary—will bring some hope back to the cause.”
“Hell, I feel some of mine returning alre
ady!” cries Taryn, crossing the room and slapping me on the back. “I can’t wait for tonight. I believe you’re still you, even if you don’t think so!”
I force a smile to my lips, hoping they’ll buy the halfhearted expression. How did I get myself into this?
I shake my head. Don’t be selfish, Skye. It’s just one night. One event. And it’s for a good cause, too. I’ll do my part, help them out with a little inspiration, then head back to Earth tomorrow. Back to normalcy. I can put this whole thing behind me for good.
So how come I’m suddenly not so sure?
THIRTEEN
A few hours later I find myself standing behind a thick red curtain strung across some sort of large stage that’s been carved out of solid rock. I can hear the crowd gathering on the other side, a building roar of excited murmurs, shouts and laughter rising above the pounding techno music that blasts from large speakers strategically placed around the cave.
“They sound like they’re having a good time,” I remark to Ruth, who is attaching a wireless microphone to the lapel of my jacket. Earlier, I was fitted with a new outfit: a sweeping black duster jacket, like the rest of the Eclipsers wear, tight black pants, knee-high boots. I now look the part. Hopefully I can talk the talk.
Ruth nods. “Indeed. The Dark Siders work hard all day, slaving away in the mines and factories. When they clock out, they’re in desperate need of stress relief. Actually, it was you who came up with the idea of holding weekly gatherings. To dance and drink and let off steam. By doing this, you believed, it would cut down on the in-fighting and add to the community spirit of the different Dark Sider enclaves.”
“And has it worked?” I guess it’s not so odd to think of me, former club-kid girl extraordinaire with the DJ boyfriend, coming up with the idea to hold weekly dance parties. Maybe Mariah and I have more in common than I thought.
“Definitely. We’ve seen a marked decrease in violence since we started holding the raves. People work off their anger and frustration on the dance floor. And they get to know their neighbors better. It’s made us into a more cohesive group, rather than a bunch of independent slave pods. And the more we can align, the more power we have to fight against oppression.”
“We even have our own alcohol,” Kayce says, stepping up with two drinks in his hand. He presents one to me. Clouds of purple steam rise from the glass, as if it’s been dusted with dry ice. I take a tentative sip, immediately recoiling at the potency. I think I’ve just swallowed fire. Kayce laughs. “Yeah, strong stuff,” he says. “Total black market. The government has their own watered-down gin they send down with the rations. Just enough to lull you to sleep, not get you rip-roaring drunk like this will. This,” he says, taking a swig from his own glass, “will totally kick your ass.”
I raise my glass in a salute. I guess there’s no drinking age in Terra. “Here’s to getting my ass kicked,” I toast, then tip the glass backward and swallow the reminder. It scorches my throat and heats my insides. But it’s worth it. After all, in a few moments I have to face the throng, pretend I’m their valiant leader, back from an alternate reality prison. A little liquid courage can’t hurt.
“I wish you would have gotten a chance to talk to some of the Dark Siders while you were here,” Ruth says, taking my glass from me and setting it on a nearby tray. “They’re really amazing people. They have so little, and yet they refuse to curl up and die. They have a passion that’s truly impressive. And you are solely responsible for it all.”
“I wish I could have stayed longer,” I say, honestly more than a bit regretful. There’s so much here I’d like to learn. It’s too bad I couldn’t travel back and forth between worlds at will. Go back to Earth, help launch the game, take my finals, then come back here for summer break or something, helping them reinvigorate their cause. It would be nice to meet the people. The ones in town were so sweet. So welcoming.
“Okay, we’re going to make the final preparations,” Ruth says. “We’ll come get you in a minute.” She turns on her heel and walks over to another part of the stage, Kayce in tow.
“Are you ready?” Dawn asks, coming up behind me and placing his hands on my shoulders. His touch sends a now familiar tingle through me, but I try to ignore it. Getting all hot and bothered is not going to help me face the masses. Or face leaving Terra for Earth tomorrow.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, turning to him. I look into his beautiful glowing eyes. “Though I have no idea what I’m supposed to say. Did you write me a speech or something?”
Dawn smiles down at me and takes my hands in his. “You don’t have to say a word,” he says. “Just having you standing there onstage will be enough. The people will see that Mariah has returned. That she is leading the Eclipsers again. They will find hope and courage just realizing that.”
I laugh self-consciously. It’s still blowing my mind that people would see little old me as a symbol of hope. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
Dawn squeezes my hands. “I want to thank you for doing this,” he says. “I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you. Thrown headfirst into a raging war and being told you’re the leader of the losing side. It’s got to be a lot to take in. And yet, you’ve agreed to help us. You can’t begin to know what that means to the Eclipsers.” He pauses, then adds, “What it means to me.”
I can feel my face redden at his compliment. “Yeah, well, I mean, it’s not really a big deal.”
He catches my eyes in his, and my knees almost buckle at the intensity of his gaze. But he holds me up. “It is a big deal,” he says softly. “It’s a huge deal. So accept my thank you and don’t argue.”
I laugh nervously. “Okay, okay,” I say, admitting defeat. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I can help in some small way.” And I am, I realize. I feel warm and fuzzy at the idea that I’m able to provide some solace to the masses just by being me, or at least Mariah. These people need a symbol of hope. I’m helping them. And in return, I’m helping Dawn. That’s what matters. Thoughts of returning to my real life can be set aside for a bit. Tonight is about the oppressed people of Terra, the Dark Siders. And whatever little thing I can do to help their cause, I should be prepared to do.
“We’re ready for you now,” Ruth says. She reaches over and straightens my microphone. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yes,” I say, glancing back at Dawn, confidence, which has nothing to do with the alcohol welling up inside of me. “I think I am.”
The music fades and I can hear the MC silencing the crowd. He’s a pro, and a moment later the chatter and murmuring fades to an almost eerie silence. “It’s good to see everyone out and about tonight,” he says, his voice echoing through the cavern. “I know with the recent production increase mandates you’ve been working long, hard hours. And with the cut in rations, it’s not been on very much food.”
A few boos erupt, the crowd evidently not big fans of hard work with ration cutting.
“But tonight is a special night. And we have a special surprise for all of you.”
“Tickets to Earth?” shouts one heckler, prompting a smattering of laughter and appreciative applause.
“Better,” says the MC, a smile in his voice. “Tonight we have a very important guest here to see you.”
“Is it the Circle of Eight?” another heckler calls out. “And have they agreed to let us tar and feather them?” More laughter. I love that they’re able to keep a sense of humor through all they’ve suffered.
The MC shakes his head. “Even better,” he says, then pauses dramatically. A hush falls over the crowd. It’s as if this entire room of thousands is holding its breath at once. “Tonight only. Making her glorious return to Terra after months on Earth. I give you the one, the only—”
“Get to the center of the stage,” Ruth urges, pushing me forward. The curtain begins to draw back. I take a hesitant step, all of a sudden not one bit ready to meet my public.
“Mariah Quinn!” the MC bellows as the curtain sweeps open. A spotlight
shines down on me, blinding me where I stand. The crowd goes silent. I can feel thousands of eyes staring at me in shocked disbelief as I make my way to the front of the stage. Not sure what to do, I give the crowd a little Miss America–type wave. Cheesy, but I can’t think of anything else on the fly.
Then it happens. One by one every member of the audience, every Dark Sider in the crowd, gets down on his or her knees. They raise their hands over their heads and open their mouths, one single word leaving their lips, over and over again. Pulsing, throbbing, electrifying.
Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah.
The chant starts low, but grows in volume and intensity.
Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah.
The sound washes over me. My name. I mean, her name, rolling off their tongues in an all-powerful caress.
Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah.
I shiver, chills wracking my body with the power their chant invokes. I certainly wasn’t prepared for this kind of worship. What could Mariah have possibly done to inspire such loyalty? Could her plans and actions actually have made this much of a difference in these people’s lives? I wonder if she enjoyed this: playing the role of goddess. Everywhere she went, people worshipped her. Did she get off on it? Or was she a reluctant leader?
And again, what happened in the end? She left them high and dry? Abandoned them for a happier, richer life on Earth? Betrayed their eternal devotion—not to mention Dawn’s love—to look into the moon?
No wonder Dawn hates her so much. She’s beginning to strike a sour note with me as well. Not that in a way I’m not doing the same kind of thing, returning to Earth after this night and all. But the difference is, this isn’t my fight. I didn’t start something I couldn’t finish like she did.