by Eliza Green
‘Do what?’
‘Live alone.’
Jerome smiled and shook his head. ‘I’m not following you.’
‘You live without voices in your head, without a connection to the city. How do you cope?’
Jerome’s body stiffened. He folded his arms across his chest. ‘That’s how humans live, Carissa. We don’t have voices in our heads.’
‘But you’re not human. You’re a newborn. You’re like me.’
Jerome laughed and uncrossed his arms, but the tension didn’t leave him. ‘You and I are not alike. Your precious Collective trapped me in Arcis, made me perform tasks on each of their nine floors.’
‘That’s because they didn’t know what you were.’
Jerome’s eyes widened. ‘Exactly. That’s because I’m human.’
Carissa shook her head. ‘I can see what you are, Jerome. I can see what you should have become.’
He folded his arms again and, with the gesture, his defensive wall lifted higher. ‘Is this what you wanted to talk about? To remind me I’m like you? We are not alike.’
‘I need to know I’m not alone.’
‘Why don’t you talk to your Inventor friend? Or his wolf. Rover, is it?’ Carissa spotted Warren watching the interaction from the edge of the storage area. Jerome walked away, calling over his shoulder. ‘I can’t help you, Copy.’
Panic swelled inside her. ‘Wait! There’s nobody else. How do I live without the voices in my head?’
Jerome walked backwards and shrugged. ‘Can’t help you. It’s always been just me.’
Their chat left Carissa with a sick feeling in her stomach. She stomped away, pressing down the hurt that made her pulse pound and her skin itch. Nobody understood what she needed. Only one other person with experience might help her.
Her escorts followed her as she marched to the courtyard, hoping to find Alex there. But before she made it a hundred feet, Max’s second in command, Julius, appeared from a side street and stopped both females in their tracks. He said something to them, to which they responded with a shrug. Carissa watched them leave. Had her word with the Inventor earlier convinced Max enough that she could be trusted?
With a lighter load, she carried on to the courtyard to see Alex stood at the entrance, watching the soldiers train. He wore a small smile on his face. Carissa looked inside the yard to see June and Sheila training in a group led by a commanding female, while Dom ran solo laps of the yard’s perimeter.
Breeders were just as capable as naturally born humans when it came to physical exertion. Why hadn’t he joined in with the others?
She stopped beside him. ‘Why do you not train with the humans?’
Alex glanced at her, his smile dropping away. ‘I can help in other ways.’
‘Like what?’
He shrugged. ‘I can fix trucks. I’m not a soldier.’
He must have learned that skill when he’d escaped from the city that one time. The Collective kept records of all their insubordinate creations. She shuddered to think her name could be on that list too. Keeping the city away might be the best solution for now.
Carissa looked up at him. ‘Shouldn’t everyone train in case we are attacked?’
Alex glanced at her again. He nodded at the rebel humans. ‘I know the Collective better than they do. Physical fighting is just one way to combat them.’
Carissa studied the young man grown by the Collective to become a Breeder. ‘Do you miss Praesidium?’
Alex pinned her with his glare, his eyes growing large. He shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe her question. ‘Only a Copy would ask such a thing. Do you have any idea what they did to me in there?’ He looked ahead. ‘Of course you do.’
Carissa nodded.
‘Yes,’ she squeaked when he didn’t see her reaction.
‘And you think I want to go back to that?’
It wasn’t what she’d meant. ‘No. I meant... the city was the only life you knew. Do you miss it?’
Alex huffed out a breath. ‘Do you?’
His anger set Carissa’s heartbeat to gallop in her chest. She switched her attention to the less aggressive training session instead. ‘Sometimes. I don’t know how to function out here. Alone.’
‘We’re all alone, Carissa. The sooner you realise that, the better.’
She frowned at him. ‘But I wasn’t alone in the city. I was connected.’
Why couldn’t anyone see that? Her situation differed from theirs, her experience of the outside stranger than most.
Alex scoffed. ‘To a bunch of psycho AI minds who forced you into servitude.’
‘It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t all that bad.’
It had been an honour to serve the Collective.
‘Bad?’ Alex laughed. ‘It was a frigging nightmare. Seriously, Carissa. When are you going to realise you dodged a bullet by getting out of there?’
He stormed off, leaving Carissa to watch the session alone. It was easy for him to tell her to grow up. He’d been through puberty already thanks to a fast-acting growth machine that sped up not only his body’s development, but his mind’s too. Thanks to the machine, Alex had lived a lifetime in just a handful of months.
But Carissa was only thirteen and she still needed guidance more than eighteen-year-old Alex did.
She pushed down the hurt that nobody here could understand. Even Rover’s company didn’t satiate her. How was she supposed to grow up without guidance? Her eyes travelled up to the ledge where the spotters with guns watched over the valley.
Maybe she’d find answers up there.
9
Anya
Charlie put down the scissors and stood back with a finger on his lip. Anya admired her new haircut in the cracked mirror. He had styled it into a long bob. The ends had been layered and feathered slightly to frame her face. She even had a fringe.
Anya hadn’t seen her hair that short since... well, before she lost her memories.
Charlie used a second mirror to show her the back, which had a similar subtle set of layers running through it.
He watched her in the main mirror and put his wrinkled face next to hers. ‘Well, what do you think?’
A smile crept onto Anya’s face, prompting the old man to smile himself. ‘I love it. It feels so...’
‘Light?’
He pulled back and straightened up.
She nodded and turned her head both ways. Her hair followed the movement with ease. Before the cut, it had sat like a lump on her head.
Anya swivelled round in the chair. ‘What do I owe you?’
It felt appropriate to offer payment for such a beautiful cut.
Charlie’s eyes hardened to black diamonds. ‘How much money do you have on you?’
Anya blushed and patted her pockets. She didn’t know why. She had nothing to her name. ‘I, uh, don’t have...’
The expression on Charlie’s face softened and he erupted into laughter. ‘Your lovely company was my reward, dear Anya Macklin.’
Anya swatted Charlie’s arm, then hopped out of her chair to plant a kiss on his cheek. ‘That was mean, but I’ll definitely be back.’
A grinning Charlie tipped his hand to her as she left.
Anya’s step felt lighter. She couldn’t keep her hands off her hair. It felt so soft, even though Charlie had only dampened it with a spray bottle, not washed it.
Something more important than a cut had happened to her while she sat in the chair. She’d remembered something from her erased past, a person with dreadlocks who had gotten a haircut from Charlie. She could have asked Charlie who that person had been, but the detail wasn’t as important as the recollection itself. It gave her hope that her memories were still a part of her, not locked away in the machine in Arcis.
As she strolled beneath the sunshine, her desire to test out her theory grew more. She considered asking Sheila and Dom, both of whom had been in Arcis with her. But Dom had never lost his memories and Sheila’s Copy had returned hers. Anya worried their enthus
iasm for her to remember could confuse what might be her memory with their recollection.
She thought of June, but the petite, blonde girl with fire in her eyes was in a similar amnesiac position to her. Not to mention June’s newfound connection with Alex; Anya wasn’t ready to let go of her connection with him just yet. If she spoke to June, it would be the end.
What about Jerome, a boy who she didn’t remember, but who Jason and the others had rescued from Arcis after she disappeared? Maybe he could help in a more impartial way.
Anya walked the full perimeter of the compound. She found him in a storage area she’d not yet seen, in a building butting up against the fence dividing old from new. The open-sided property had been cleared of everything. A trestle table stood in the middle of the space with an assortment of guns on it, some smooth and sleek like the Electro Guns they’d stolen from the guards in Praesidium, others boxy and homemade, with fat, metal barrels soldered crudely to the front. Then there were revolvers, simple and easy for first-timers to try. A male and female soldier cleaned all the weapons.
One corner held a ball of tangled rope and a selection of badly rusted blades. Jerome was holding up one end of the rope in his hand and rubbing his chin, trying to work out what to do next. She stepped up into the property, a move that drew the attention of the two soldiers. Both of them did a double-take. Jerome looked up from his task and let out a “wow” when he saw her.
‘Your hair looks great, Anya. Who cut it?’
‘Charlie over at the barber shop. Max’s father.’
Jerome’s expression darkened at the mention of—who was it—Charlie or Max? Max probably. He’d been less than welcoming to him since his arrival. Anya still couldn’t believe Jerome was a newborn—grown not born. She might not remember him, but she saw nothing to indicate he differed from anyone else.
Jerome’s stare hardened. ‘Why are you looking at me like I’m some freak in a show? So what if I came from the city?’ He tossed the rope away in anger. ‘I don’t remember it.’
Anya adopted a lighter expression. ‘I’m sorry, Jerome. I was just thinking about my time there, that’s all.’
‘But you think I’m to be avoided? I can see it on your face. Didn’t our friendship in Arcis count for anything?’ He stared down at the discarded rope. ‘Even Dom, Sheila and June are being weird with me since they learned what I am.’
‘I don’t remember you.’ It was the truth. ‘But I just spent a week with a Breeder who was born and grown at a fast rate and for a specific purpose. He’s my friend too. I have no issues with what you are.’
Jerome appeared to relax at her admission. But then he frowned at her. ‘So why are you here?’
‘I’m starting to remember things from my time in Arcis. I... was hoping to test out a few scenarios on you.’
‘Like what?’ He snapped his fingers suddenly as if he remembered something. ‘Hey, what happened to Yasmin? She was with you on the ninth floor, wasn’t she?’
Anya nodded and swallowed. ‘She was killed in the city for resisting.’
The soldiers, she noticed, were pretending not to listen in on their conversation.
Jerome pursed his lips. ‘I’m sorry. It was a crap time for all of us.’
He closed his eyes and sighed.
‘Okay,’ he said, opening them, ‘what do you want to know?’
Her mood lightened. She returned to her discussion with Charlie. ‘Did someone in our group have dreadlocks?’
Jerome nodded. ‘That would have been Dom. But he wasn’t in our group yet. He was ahead of us.’
Hearing his name sent a surprise shiver through her. ‘When did he cut it?’
Jerome gave it some thought. ‘That was a while ago now... about five minutes after we met you?’ He nodded, as though it all became clear. ‘That’s right. The first time I saw him was on the first floor walkway. He wore his hair longer then. Then like the next day or the one after that—I can’t remember—it was gone.’
‘How do you remember that time if you never met him?’
Jerome flashed his white teeth. ‘Because you two knew each other. I think you used to be friends before rotation separated you.’
Anya frowned. She didn’t remember the friendship between her and Dom, yet she recalled a boring hair cut? At least her odd memory tallied with Jerome’s recollection of events.
Jerome asked her a question next. ‘Other than the haircut, what else do you remember?’
Anya froze as the memory her bitch Copy had passed back to her came to the fore. ‘I remember... I think it was the fourth floor...’
Jerome grinned and nodded. ‘Oh yeah, the sexes had to compete against each other. Do you remember being my slave?’
Anya stared at him. ‘Your what?’
His smile faded fast. Jerome put his hands up. ‘Sorry, poor choice of words. I meant you had to complete tasks with me to earn points.’
Anya remembered none of that. ‘Did any of it take place in the bathroom?’
‘Like cleaning?’ He frowned. ‘I don’t think so.’
A new voice froze the blood in her veins. ‘Hey, Jerome. I got some cleaning fluid that should make light work of the rust on those blades...’ Warren paused when he saw Anya. ‘Oh, hi.’
Her mouth puckered with terror at seeing her attacker.
‘Hey, I like the new haircut.’ His eyes flitted between Jerome and Anya. ‘Are you two catching up?’
She sensed his curiosity—and possibly dread—over what she might have discussed with Jerome. That meant Warren and Jerome were still friends. She couldn’t trust Jerome with this truth.
‘I’ve got to go.’
She stepped down from the storage area to the street and walked away, fighting the wobble in her legs that threatened to ground her.
Warren called after her. ‘Hey, Anya, did you get your memories back yet?’
She caught the tremor in his voice.
She stopped and turned, pinning him with her best glare. ‘I remember some things.’
Warren’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but he replied with a friendly, ‘Glad to hear.’
Anya stalked away, but not before she saw Warren pat Jerome on the back—a sign that their friendship would not be so easily soured. Her heart hardened as a new mission to destroy Warren took hold.
The thrum of her heart never let up, even when she made it back to the start of the camp where the trucks were parked. She leaned against the gable of a house that had once been someone’s home. A fallen rock lodged in its heart had laid it open to the elements.
Her fast breaths made her chest hurt. She slowed them down to control her rising panic. Anya hadn’t expected Warren to affect her so deeply. Some of it had to do with her lack of context; no before or after memories. But an attack was an attack. And Warren had gone too far that night in the bathroom. What sickened her more was his lack of contrition for almost raping her.
She cursed Canya and her attempts to hurt her. Well, this one had worked.
‘Consider me hurt, you bitch,’ she muttered to the sky.
A couple of soldiers walking past gave her a strange look. Anya focused on the ground and hurried on. It didn’t matter where she went, as long as there were people present. Knowing exactly where Warren was relaxed the tension in her muscles.
She crossed the grassy area and weaved through parked trucks to arrive at the crowded courtyard where most of the soldiers were training. She’d been good at sport once. But time away had set her body and mind back. She needed to find her centre again.
Anya approached the entrance, preparing to join the training. Carissa was watching the activity, but as soon as she reached her the Copy stormed off.
What was her problem?
Some soldiers did warm-up exercises in the yard, while others used the stationary bike and free weights. She caught sight of Dom in the back of the weights room, punching a boxing bag that hung from a reinforced hook in the ceiling. Anya shook her head as a new recollection of a
similar scene surfaced. But it remained unclear like every other damn thought she had.
Anya turned back to see Max standing next to her. His presence startled her. She shook off her surprise and glanced up at his strong features, hardened by this fight with the machines. Anya wanted to ask him why he’d left her out of the strategy meeting.
But before she could, he stepped forward and announced to the yard, ‘Tonight, we’ll hold a celebration dinner in the town hall. All are welcome. The Collective will be coming soon but rebel reinforcements are on the way. We don’t know how long we have before the city finds us, so let’s take a moment to breathe, take stock and prepare mentally for their arrival. Seven pm sharp.’
Max glanced at Anya. ‘Nice hairdo. Charlie?’
Anya nodded and went to speak, but Max walked away, giving her no chance to reply or ask her burning question.
Irritated, she jogged inside the courtyard and ran laps for the first time in a long time. The burn in her lungs and legs came too fast to deal with her anger and stopped her midway through her second lap. She looked around at the others. They paid her no mind and seemed happy just to be doing something. Her eyes darted around the space in fear that Warren had followed her.
She unclenched when she saw no sign of him, but the damage was done. No amount of exercise would set her mind right.
Let it go, Anya.
Just give it time.
Problem was, she didn’t think time was on anyone’s side.
10
Carissa
Her heated conversation with Alex in the minutes before Anya showed up drove Carissa past the trucks parked at an angle to the main gates and the front of the camp. Two guards with guns patrolled a foot bridge set along the top of the high-perimeter wall. Her group had arrived by truck via an access road set above the camp. They had used a service elevator to reach the valley floor. Carissa planned to use the same elevator, carved out of a weaker section of the rock, to go back up.
But the presence of gun-toting rebels giving her odd glances set her nerves on edge. She couldn’t see how to get past the heavily patrolled front gate. Discouraged, she turned back to the compound with its half structures and uneven roads, both in surface and width. It was so different to Praesidium with its concentric pattern and equidistant roads that made it efficient to navigate the city.