by Mari Mancusi
How could I possibly deny my new destiny?
I draw in a breath, trying to quell my nervous energy as I push open the rabbit hole, emerging onto Strata One. Here goes nothing.
It doesn’t take long for the guards to grab me. And soon I’m being carted off in a squad car to Duske’s mansion. When they drag me inside, Thom is standing in the foyer. When the guards aren’t looking he gives me an imperceptible nod. I nod back; at least I’m not entirely alone, even though I know he won’t break his cover unless the situation gets dire.
“Sister Mariah,” he cries, keeping in character. “We have been looking everywhere for you. Let me tell the master you are here.”
I shuffle my step. I’m now at the point of no return. Inside the belly of the beast. Let’s hope he’s hungry.
Thom leaves me, heads up the sweeping staircase, and disappears down a hallway. The guards continue to flank me at either side. Was I crazy to think this plan would work? What will Duske do when he sees me? What if he decides I’m worth more dead than alive? Will he simply kill me on sight, never giving me a chance to accomplish my mission?
“Well, well, well.” A booming voice above interrupts my racing thoughts. I look up. Senator Reginald Duske is standing at the top of the stairs, dressed in an old-fashioned black suit. His hair is slicked back and his face is cold and unreadable. “It appears the prodigal sister has returned.”
Time to earn that Academy Award.
“Brother Duske!” I cry, breaking free of the guards and rushing up the stairs. Before he can react, I throw my arms around him, squeezing him in the most enthusiastic hug I can muster. I press my whole body against him, hoping to spark some heat in his cold, unyielding frame. “Thank God you’re here!”
The senator lets me hold him for a moment, then steps out of the embrace. He looks me over, eyebrow raised.
“You seem happy to see me,” he observes.
“Of course!” I say, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. This gang of rebels—I think they’re called Eclipsers or something—kidnapped me from your house and dragged me underground. It was horrible.”
“Kidnapped, huh?” Duske repeats slowly “And here I was sure you’d left of your own free will.”
“Are you kidding me?” I give him a disgusted look. “Do you know where they took me? Some horrible underground ghetto with these crazy mutant freaks. They kept insisting I was that girl named Mariah, their rebel leader or whatever. And they wanted to use me somehow to unite the people against the government.” I shake my head, as if reliving the horror. “So, I’m like, ‘Dudes, I’m so not Mariah. I’m Skye, and I’m from Earth and I need to get back.’ But did they believe me? No! They locked me up and only took me out when they wanted to show me off like some kind of prized cow.” I allow my voice to crack. “Oh God, Duske, I thought I was going to die down there. I was so scared.” I throw my arms around him again, sobbing into his shoulder, hoping it’s not overkill.
Duske stands still for a moment, then awkwardly pats me on the back a few times. I try to gauge his reaction. Does he believe me? Even a little? I step away and study his face. It’s hard to tell.
“An interesting story,” he says.
“Interesting?” I screw up my face in disgust. “Horrible is more like it. All I want to do is get back to Earth. To my real life. Please. You’ve got to help me.”
“How did you escape?” he asks, ignoring my request.
“There’s something going on down there,” I explain, glad Dawn and I had role-played this encounter last night so I knew exactly what to say. “The fans have stopped and the air has become poisoned somehow. It’s made everyone weak. I saw my opportunity, and when they were transporting me, I acted. I attacked my two captors and went up one of the hatches. That’s where your men found me and brought me here.” I shudder. “You can go look, if you want. Their bodies are probably still there, right under the rabbit hole by Moongazer Palace.”
This was a small insurance the Eclipsers had arranged to make my story more believable. The bodies in question were two asthmatic Dark Siders who had succumbed to the poisoned air a day before. Hiro and Kayce had worked on the two bodies and laid them by the exit to provide legitimacy to my tale.
Duske turns to the guards at the bottom of the stairs. “Return to Luna Park,” he says. “Go down the rabbit hole by Moongazer Palace. See if there are bodies there.”
The guards bow low, then exit the building to carry out their orders. Duske turns back to me. “I’m sorry not to take your story at face value,” he says amicably. “But these days we cannot be too careful.” He claps his hands again and two more guards show up. He instructs them to pat me down. Luckily, we’d envisioned this kind of scenario and so I’d come without weapons.
“I totally understand,” I assure him as the guards search me. “But soon you’ll believe me and we can move on. Did I miss your Moongazing seminar? I’ll still do it if you want. I’ll do whatever it takes. I just want to get back to Earth—like you promised.” I’m crying now. Easy to fake tears when I’m this terrified. “I’m so sick of this creepy place. All I want to do is go home. To see my family. My friends.”
Duske’s face softens. He reaches out to stroke my hair. “Shh,” he says. “Don’t cry. It’ll be okay. The nightmare is over. You’re safe with me.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s buying it. He’s actually buying it.
“So, can I go to my room?” I ask. “I’m dying for a bath. And then maybe we could go to dinner tonight? I loved that place you took me originally. What was it called again? The Park Terrace? The ravioli is divine.”
Duske scratches his chin, studying me with his piercing eyes. “All in due time,” he says. “But first we must take a little trip.” He turns to walk down the hall, beckoning me to follow.
I cock my head. A trip? What kind of trip? Does he believe me or not?
“Come along,” he says, and I realize I have no choice but to follow him.
We walk down the hall until we come to an elevator. He presses his thumb to call it, and a moment later the doors slide open. We step inside and Duske selects a bottom floor. The doors close and the elevator shoots downward. We travel for what feels like a long time. I wonder how deep we’re going. My heart pounds so hard and fast I worry it’ll burst. I steal a glance at Duske, trying to read his expression. He simply stares at the descending numbers flickering above the doors, his face inscrutable. Finally, the elevator shudders to a stop and the doors slide open.
We step out into a long corridor, highly guarded by thumb-sensored doors, seemingly every few feet. This place is more secure than Fort Knox. But Duske’s thumb works magic on every lock. I so have to get a copy of it, no matter what it takes. I consider jumping him now—after all, we are alone—but then reconsider. At present I have no means to get his thumbprint. I must wait for Thom to slip me my supplies.
“Where are we going?” I ask, praying this is not some trick—some one-way trip to a high-security prison he plans to throw me in.
“Bunker twelve,” Duske says, stopping in front of a small golf cart. “Get in.”
I obey, joining him in the cart as he activates the hover controls. Soon we’re floating down the corridor at low speed, and about ten minutes later we come to another door. This one’s flanked by human guards in addition to thumb-sensor locks.
Duske steps out of the cart, nods to the guards, and waves an identification card at them. They step aside, pressing their thumbs against matching sensors, and Duske does the same with his. The locks click simultaneously and the door swings open.
We step into a long, featureless hallway, illuminated by dim fluorescent lighting lining the ceiling. I follow Duske down the hall, trying to memorize each twist and turn. The place is like a maze. An industrial catacomb. There are a million doors dotting the myriad of hallways.
Finally, we come to a door at the end of one corridor. Duske presses his thumb against the sensor
and the door slides open. We step inside, into some sort of prison, though it certainly wouldn’t meet Geneva Convention standards. The smell of decay and rot permeates the air, and I have to resist a nearly overwhelming urge to block my nose with my hand. The floor is strewn with debris, and behind each iron-barred cell there’s a prisoner, dressed in rags and lying on the ground, covered in her own filth. There are no beds, no toilets, not a single creature comfort to be seen.
I steel my expression, not wanting him to see my revulsion. It’s all I can do not to lean over and puke. “What are we doing here?” I demand instead. “I thought you would take me to my apartment.”
“All in good time, my dear,” Duske says, patting my arm. Then he turns to one of the cells and gestures. “Do you recognize this prisoner?” he asks.
I peer in, unable to stop the gasp escaping my lips as my eyes fall on the woman inside.
Glenda. She’s barely recognizable as my former personal trainer back on Earth. Her always lithe frame is now skeletal, her face gaunt, and her eyes blackened. She’s shivering in her thin slip dress, and her arms and legs are riddled with sores.
Horror slams through me, and I struggle to keep my composure. So, they didn’t kill her. She’s been here this whole time. Starved, probably tortured—all for rescuing me. My stomach heaves as I turn away, unable to look at her bruised face.
Oh, Glenda, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to suffer like this for me.
“That’s Glenda,” I say, calling upon every molecule of strength inside me to keep up the charade. Every fiber of my body yearns to turn around and attack my host. To kill him for what he’s done to this poor woman who only wants to better her world and save her people. But I can’t act now. There are guards everywhere, armed with heavy artillery. I have to wait. Bide my time. Play selfish Skye from Earth for a little longer. “That’s my personal trainer. What is she doing here? Is she a Moongazer too?” I ask, turning to Duske, mostly to avoid looking at the disappointment radiating from Glenda’s hollow eyes. If only I could send her a signal. Somehow relay to her that I’m only acting. That her sacrifice was not in vain.
Duske shakes his head. “This woman only pretended to be from Earth to lure you into the Dark Siders’ trap. She’s actually one of the head Eclipsers. She was the one who broke in and attempted to kidnap you the day you left us.”
“Really? That was her?” I turn back to throw her my most disgusted look. “So it’s her fault I’m stuck in Terra? That I was dragged underground and forced to live with those disgusting mutants?”
Glenda whimpers from inside her cell. A knife to my gut.
Duske nods. “It is,” he says. “All her fault.” He reaches down, pulling up the hem of his trousers, and producing a knife banded to his ankle. He unsheathes the blade, stands back up, and holds it out to me. “Obviously, she needs to pay for her crimes—for what she did to you.” He smiles a sick smile. “Go ahead. Take this knife and kill her.”
I stare at him and then the knife, horrified beyond belief. Oh God, this is like what always happens in the movies; the hero’s supposed to prove his loyalty to the villain by killing someone from his own side.
But I can’t be that hero! There’s no way I can take a knife and slice up an innocent woman—one who risked everything to save me. There’s just no way! But if I don’t, then Duske will doubt my story. He’ll likely turn the knife on me instead. If I don’t kill Glenda, I’ll die. And everyone else will, too. The Dark Siders, the Eclipsers, Dawn.
What am I going to do?
I try to swallow, but my throat’s too dry. I try to think, try to remember back to the day the Eclipsers told me that Glenda had been captured trying to rescue me. They told me that to her, the cause was more important than life itself. Did she still feel that way? Would she want me to kill her if it meant saving the others? How close was she to death already? Would I only be putting her out of her misery?
“Go on,” Duske goads smugly. He’s obviously enjoying my indecision. “We don’t have all day, you know. I mean, you do want to get back to Earth, right?”
I stare at Glenda, cowering in the corner, hands over her head, not so brave anymore. My mind races with indecision. She’s weak. It’d take one blow. She’ll probably die anyway. She’d want me to do it. I have to do it. The cause is more important than one life. How many times have the Eclipsers told me that?
I grab the knife from Duske, step into the cell, raise the blade. I stand above Glenda’s quivering skeletal body, drawing in a breath, garnering every ounce of resolve within me. If only I had Mariah’s strength. She’d be able to do this. She’d be able to act decisively if it meant furthering the cause.
“Do it!” Duske commands. “Now!”
But I can’t. I drop the blade. It clatters uselessly to the stone floor.
“No,” I croak, resigning myself to the fact that I’ve likely signed the death sentence for all of the Dark Siders and myself. But what else can I do? I just don’t have it in me to kill a defenseless human being. “I’m sorry. I know you guys have different rules on Terra, but on Earth we don’t go around killing helpless women for no reason. I was already forced to kill once today—in self-defense. But this would just be cold-blooded murder. And I am not a murderer.”
Duske reaches down and scoops up the blade. He shoves it back into its sheath. “Very well,” he says. “Let’s head back to the house. We’re finished here.”
I stare at him, not understanding. “B-but,” I stammer. “I thought—”
Duske shrugs. “It was a test,” he says. “If you were really working for the Eclipsers, you would have killed her to keep up your act. That’s how they work. Sacrifice one person to save all the others. To them, their silly cause is more important than individual life.”
Realization hits me with the force of a ten-ton truck. I made the right decision. My weakness actually proved my character. He was testing me to see if I acted like Mariah. And she would have done it. By refusing, I’ve effectively proved myself to be Skye.
“So you believe me,” I stammer, praying it’s not too good to be true.
“In my position, I’d be a fool to believe anyone,” Duske replies. “For all I know—”
A burst of static interrupts him. He reaches down and pulls out his communication device. “Yes, what is it?” he asks impatiently.
“We found the bodies, sir,” says the voice on the other end. “Just where you said they’d be.”
“Did you test them?”
“Yes. They appear to have been beaten to death with a bat that we found discarded a few feet away. Fingerprints on the bat appear to belong to one Mariah Quinn. There are also a few blood splatters on the body that appear to belong to her.”
Phew. And here I thought Kayce and Hiro were crazy when they insisted on me giving a blood sample before I left.
“Very good,” Duske says into the device. He switches it off, shoves it in his back pocket, and turns to me with a thoughtful expression on his face. “You’re either telling the truth,” he says, “or you’re really, really clever.” He shrugs. “I guess in the end it makes no difference.”
“I’m telling the truth. I swear to God,” I cry. “Please, just let me go back to Earth. I can’t take this anymore.”
Duske frowns. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Sister,” he says. “Even if I do believe you, which I’m not saying I necessarily do, nothing has changed. I still need you to speak about Earth at one of my seminars. Only then can I allow you to return.”
“Oh yeah,” I say. “And you’re still going to give me a million and a half dollars, right?” I try not to grimace as I ask the question. Is it possible to believe someone would actually be so shallow? To be more concerned with her burgeoning bank account and free trip back to Earth than the plight of the poor woman languishing in this cell? The plight of the people down in Stratum Two?
Of course it’s possible, I realize, feeling a bit sick to my stomach at the thought. In fact, it’s not only
possible, but exactly how I had been acting only days before. Imagine what Dawn must have thought of me, those first days in Terra. For him to have to stand by and witness the only woman who had the power to save his people prattle on about a meaningless video game and a shallow, pointless life on another plane of existence. Refusing to step up to the plate, face her destiny, and do something meaningful with the life she’d been given. It must have been completely unbearable. No wonder he’d been so hesitant to let me into his life. Into his heart. I must have come off as the most selfish bitch in the universe.
Well, no more. From now on I’m promising to live my life for a higher purpose. Even if that purpose ends up hastening my ultimate demise. Whether I was born Mariah or Skye, right now people are depending on me. I’m holding thousands of lives in my hands. And I can’t turn my back. No matter the danger.
But Duske can’t know this. He has to see Skye—greedy, one-track-minded Skye.
“‘Cause, like, a million and a half dollars would totally rock,” I add. “I can get a new computer. And my own car—no more taxis for me. How awesome would that be?”
Duske smiles and pats me on the back—as if I’m some silly child he can patronize. Perfect. I’ve got him completely buying this act. “Truly awesome,” he returns. “And you will get your money. As soon as you take part in the presentation.”
We walk out of the cell. I try to block out Glenda’s whimpers. I wish I could do something to help her. But at least she’s alive. I only wish there was some way to relay a message to her: Just hold on a little longer and we’ll get you out.
We head back to the main house. As we’re walking down a hallway, we come across Thom, heading in the other direction. He’s looking down at a list in his hands and slams into me, as if he hadn’t been looking where he was going. I fall backward, as planned, and he reaches down to pull me to my feet.
“Watch where you’re going,” I grumble.
“I am so sorry, Sister,” Thom says, brushing me off.