Unremembered

by Jessica Brody

  ‘Hello?’ I squeak.

  ‘Sera.’

  These two syllables send an ice-cold prickle all over my skin. The voice is male. Rough. Cruel. He doesn’t have to say anything else. Hearing him pronounce my name is enough to make the connection. It’s the voice I keep hearing in my dreams.

  The dark stranger.

  The man I saw through the glass ceiling of the ocean as I panicked and struggled for air.

  Alixter.

  Zen said he was the president of Diotech.

  The most abominable man in existence.

  And now he’s here. On the other side of this call.

  ‘Who is this?’ I ask, wanting to be sure. And at the same time, praying that I’m wrong.

  A tsk comes through the phone. ‘I’m so disappointed that you don’t remember my voice. It’s your dear friend Alixter, of course. Your raison d’être.’

  Raison d’être: reason to be, or, reason for being.

  I guess I can add French to the list of languages I speak.

  ‘It’s nice to hear your voice again,’ he says.

  A knot forms in my stomach. My chest convulses and that acidy bile fills my mouth again. I swallow it down.

  ‘Although,’ he continues, ‘I do wish it were under different circumstances. You can imagine I’m not very happy about having to come all the way here to get you.’ He sighs. ‘But alas, it is what it is.’

  I have only one question to ask him and so I don’t waste any time. ‘Do you have Zen?’

  He chuckles. It’s a cold, callous sound that makes my ears ring. ‘Wow, you really do have a one-track mind, don’t you?’

  It doesn’t matter that he didn’t answer the question. I already know the answer is yes. ‘Where is he?’ I demand. ‘Is he alive?’

  ‘He’s perfectly safe.’ There’s a long, dead pause. ‘For now.’

  ‘Please don’t hurt him.’ I wish I had the strength to yell, make all sorts of angry threats and demands. But really the only thing I’m capable of is pathetic begging.

  ‘Well, that depends,’ Alixter says.

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On you.’

  The knot in my stomach tightens and then doubles in size. When I don’t reply he keeps talking. ‘It’s you I want, Sera. Not him. You’re the trillion-dollar investment. And he’s . . . Well, he’s just the fool who fell in love with you.’

  My forehead burns with the memory of Zen’s touch. The mark he left. It’s as permanent on my skin as this tattoo.

  ‘I can’t say I blame him,’ Alixter goes on. ‘You are . . . quite breathtaking.’

  I close my eyes and fight to regain my composure. But my entire body is shivering.

  When he speaks again, his voice is lighter. More casual. But it still chills me to the bone. ‘Which is why I’m willing to negotiate a trade.’

  ‘A trade?’ I ask, and I feel Cody stiffen beside me. ‘What kind of trade?’

  ‘Well, you for him, of course,’ he replies swiftly.

  ‘I agree,’ I reply immediately.

  He laughs. ‘You may be the smartest human being on the planet, but you’re not a very good negotiator, are you?’

  I ignore his insult. ‘Just tell me where you are.’

  ‘See,’ he says, sounding very proud of himself, ‘I told my agents that it would be so much easier to let you come to us, instead of them chasing you all around the state, making idiots of themselves and leaving behind nothing but a trail of messes to clean up. And I was right. You are willing to come to us. You just needed the right . . . motivator.’

  ‘Tell me where you are!’ I scream into the phone, causing a few people to turn and stare. I lower my head.

  ‘Patience,’ he soothes in a voice that’s far from soothing. ‘Good things come to those who wait. Isn’t that how the saying goes? Although I’m not sure how much I believe that any more. After all, I waited five long years for you to come into my life and then you simply deserted me.’

  I don’t reply. I’m not going to play into his taunting any more. I have a feeling he’s enjoying it far too much.

  ‘We’re in the process of relocating to a more remote position. My agents have already attracted too much attention, chasing after you in public places. Not to mention all the attention you’ve managed to draw to yourself.’

  I glance around the café. Everyone who turned to stare at me has gone back to their own conversations.

  ‘You’re quite the publicity whore, aren’t you?’ Alixter says with another disturbing chuckle. ‘Although it was that very popularity that helped us locate you in the first place so I suppose it’s a catch-22.’ He pauses, seeming to contemplate his next words.

  ‘Anyway, we can’t afford to attract any more attention to ourselves. We will be in touch once we arrive at our new location. Until then, I guess you’ll have to wait.’

  I’m about to slam the phone down when I hear, ‘Oh, and Sera?’

  ‘Yes,’ I seethe through gritted teeth.

  ‘I’m very much looking forward to seeing you again. It’s been far too long.’

  There’s silence on the other end of the line and I hear a tiny click. I throw the phone down on the table. It bounces and slides off the side. Cody catches it before it falls to the floor.

  ‘What was that about?’ Cody asks.

  But I don’t answer. I just grab the laptop back and start typing. I don’t hesitate. I don’t stop to think. There’s no longer anything to think about.

  Visitor: Where do you want to meet?

  I drum my fingers impatiently on the table as I wait for a response. Fortunately it doesn’t take long.

  Maxxer: I’ll be outside in ten minutes.

  37

  TRUSTING

  I rise from my chair and dash towards the front door of the coffee shop, shoving it open with my shoulder and exiting on to the street. The warm sunlight is a welcome distraction. I gaze up into it, and for the briefest of moments everything goes pale pink. My eyes water. The world disappears. And I can pretend that none of this is really happening.

  But that brief moment is over far too quickly.

  I blink and look away. Cody is hurrying out the door, his laptop tucked under one arm. ‘Sera, or whatever your name is, you can’t do this,’ he insists. ‘I’ve seen this horror movie and trust me, it doesn’t end well. Let’s just get out of here while we still can. We’ll figure something else out. We’ll keep searching the Internet until we can find more information about this Diotech place.’

  ‘He has all the information I need,’ I say with complete confidence. ‘I know it.’

  ‘But what if he works for them?’ Cody argues. ‘The very people who are after you. Who took Zen! You could be walking right into their trap.’

  ‘Then at least I’ll have no trouble finding him.’

  Cody fumes, making a variety of grunting sounds in response.

  I won’t deny that I’m afraid, but I allow my fear to be overpowered by my yearning to find Zen. I already made a huge mistake by running away instead of staying to fight and protect him. I let him be captured. I let them take him. This whole thing is entirely my fault.

  And there’s no way I’m going to run away again.

  I don’t care what Rio said about my instincts or what’s in my DNA. I won’t flee this time. I’m going to do whatever it takes to find him. Including this.

  It’s just like Zen said to me back in the kindergarten classroom when I made a dash for the exit. I can’t keep running away every time I’m afraid. At some point I have to stay and fight for something I know is right.

  And I know this is right.

  A grey car pulls up to the kerb and stops. A window rolls down and a woman I don’t recognize sticks her head out.

  ‘Sera,’ she commands in a stern voice. ‘Get in.’

  I look to Cody but he’s still brooding and doesn’t offer me any help.

  The woman has thick wiry grey hair that’s cut bluntly across her forehead. Her skin is pale and
loose. As though it’s been stretched too far and then released. Her narrow dark eyes are hidden behind a pair of glasses with thick black frames.

  ‘But you’re not . . . Where’s Maxxer?’

  She glances suspiciously up and down the block. ‘I am Dr Rylan Maxxer. The photograph on the website is a cover. I’ll explain everything later. But right now you need to get in the car.’

  I peer over at Cody again. ‘So? Are you coming or not?’

  He rolls his eyes and finally releases his tightly crossed arms, letting them drop down to his sides. ‘Well, it’s not like I can let you go alone.’

  We approach the car together. Cody gets into the back seat and I walk around the front to the passenger side. I yank on the handle and slide in, pulling the door closed behind me.

  The woman steps on the gas before the door has fully shut, screeching away from the kerb and causing me to be thrown backwards against the seat. I peek behind me to see Cody pulling his seat belt across his body and fastening it. I reach up and do the same.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I ask the person claiming to be Maxxer.

  ‘Probably to a murder house,’ Cody responds under his breath.

  Dr Maxxer peers anxiously in her rear-view mirror but doesn’t answer my question. Instead she jerks her thumb over her shoulder and asks a question of her own. ‘Who’s the annoying kid?’

  ‘Hey!’ Cody interjects, sounding offended. ‘I’ll have you know, I’m thirteen. I’m not a kid.’

  ‘OK,’ Maxxer amends. ‘Who’s the annoying thirteen-year-old?’

  ‘He’s my foster-brother,’ I tell him.

  ‘Right,’ she responds, slowing at a yellow light and obsessively checking her rear-view mirror again. ‘The good news is I don’t think they’re following us.’

  ‘Who?’ I ask.

  ‘Diotech,’ she replies, and I can almost hear her voice tremble at the mention of their name.

  I shake my head. ‘They’re not. They’re waiting for me to come to them.’

  ‘Well, you can never be too careful,’ she muses.

  ‘Are you going to tell us where we’re going?’ I ask again.

  The car comes to a stop at an intersection. ‘Like I said,’ she begins, reaching into a compartment in the driver’s-side door, ‘you can never be too careful. Especially in a world where not even your memories are safe.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ I ask suspiciously, straining to see what she’s holding in her hand.

  ‘It means, when you don’t want to be found, you better not leave behind any trails.’

  She moves so swiftly I barely have time to process what’s happening. She turns around in her seat, lunging towards Cody. The concealed hand lashes out, touching the side of Cody’s head.

  I watch in horror as Cody’s body slumps. The seat belt continues to hold him upright but his eyes close and his head droops forward. As if he simply fell asleep.

  Or someone put him to sleep.

  By the time I make the connection, it’s too late.

  Dr Maxxer has already turned the Modifier on me. And I’m conscious only long enough to see the familiar device in her hand moving towards my neck. It makes contact directly under my jaw. I hear a faint sizzling sound and before I even have time to scream everything around me fades to black.

  38

  WINTER

  The air outside is warm and dry. The sun has almost disappeared over the wall. I lie on the small patch of grass in front of my house, with my head in Zen’s lap. He strokes my hair. Beginning at the roots and gently weaving his fingers down to the tips before starting over again.

  ‘One more time,’ I say.

  He stops to tickle behind my ears, his voice taking on a playful annoyance. ‘Again? But you must have it memorized by now.’

  ‘Of course I have it memorized,’ I tell him. ‘I’ve had it memorized since the first time you read it. But it sounds so much better when you say it.’

  He laughs, removing his hand from my head. He picks up the tattered hardback book lying on the grass next to him and opens it to the earmarked page.

  I reach up and affectionately touch the spine, loving the way the soft, aged cloth feels against my skin.

  ‘Where did you get this?’ I ask.

  He peers down at me. ‘From the Diotech historical archives,’ he says tenderly. ‘Is this the first time you’ve seen a real book?’

  I shake my head. ‘Rio collects them.’

  I can feel the perceptible shift in Zen’s energy at the mention of his name. His face hardens and his smile vanishes. I change the subject quickly, before his reaction has a chance to stick.

  ‘So are you going to read it or not?’ I tease. ‘Because I don’t have all day, you know.’

  He chuckles, taps my nose with his finger and focuses back on the book. Then he clears his throat and starts to read in a silly pompous accent. ‘“Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.”’

  I reach up and swat his arm. ‘No! Not like that.’

  He smiles down at me, our eyes connecting for a brief but intense moment. Then he returns to his coy, playful self. ‘What? You don’t like my British accent? I’m just trying to give you a real authentic experience. Shakespeare was British, you know, so that’s probably how it sounded in his own head.’

  I swat at him again, unable to control my giggles. ‘No,’ I insist. ‘Read it your way.’

  His expression turns serious as his gaze returns to the book. ‘OK,’ he concedes.

  There’s a brief pause, and the anticipation of hearing the words on his lips is almost too much to handle. I feel flutters in my stomach. A longing on my lips. My breath becomes shallow.

  When he finally speaks, his voice is soft and focused and powerful.

  It sets the world around us on fire. Everything is ablaze. Nothing is safe. I listen to the entire poem in a state of expectation. That any minute, I might go up in flames too.

  ‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds

  Admit impediments. Love is not love

  Which alters when it alteration finds,

  Or bends with the remover to remove:

  O, no! it is an ever-fixèd mark,

  That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

  It is the star to every wandering bark,

  Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

  Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

  Within his bending sickle’s compass come;

  Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

  But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

  If this be error and upon me proved,

  I never writ, nor no man ever loved.’

  When he finishes I close my eyes and bask in the warmth of his voice and Shakespeare’s lyrics, wishing that it would never end. That it would always stay this warm.

  But I know that is impossible.

  Because soon he will leave. Like he does every day. And I will be cold again.

  ‘Shakespeare couldn’t have written that poem today,’ I resolve after a moment of mutual silence.

  Zen has put down the book and resumed stroking my hair. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because love like that can’t exist today.’ The sad reality of that truth scoops out a large chunk of me and leaves me feeling hollow.

  ‘That’s not true.’ Zen bends down and kisses my forehead. ‘What about us?’ he whispers in my ear. ‘You are my ever-fixèd mark. Just like in the poem.’

  I feel the tears glistening in my eyes as I hold my wrist in front of my face and trace the thin black line with my fingertip. ‘We will always be kept apart. As long as we’re here, we can never be together. They’ll never let us.’

  I gaze up into Zen’s eyes and I can see the sorrow that shadows them. Like a cloud. He knows I’m right. Even if he refuses to admit it.

  I push myself up to my knees and face him. ‘Shakespeare was lucky,’ I go on. ‘He was born in a time before computers and brain
scans and DNA sequencers. Love could survive because technology wasn’t around to destroy it. Science wasn’t powerful enough to ruin people’s lives.’

  Zen doesn’t agree with me, but he doesn’t argue with me either. He stays very silent. Pensive. His eyes fixed on something far in the distance.

  ‘That’s the only place we can be together,’ I say, reaching out and resting my palm against his cheek.

  He blinks, as if breaking from a trance and refocuses on me. ‘Where?’

  I smile. ‘1609.’

  I expect him to laugh. I wait for it. Because I know the notion is ludicrous. A fantasy. The kind of adventure you only read about in books.

  But he doesn’t laugh.

  His eyes glaze over again and he continues staring out at that far-off point in the distance.

  ‘Zen?’ I turn his head back to me.

  ‘Hmmm?’ he replies distractedly.

  I lean forward and press my lips against his. He kisses me back, reaching up to hold my face between his hands and then wrapping them around the back of my head and pulling me closer.

  His kiss is delicious.

  Just as it always is.

  But something is different this time. I can sense it.

  His mind is elsewhere. His thoughts are far away. And I don’t know why.

  When the kiss is over, Zen rises to his feet and then offers his hand to help me up.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I ask.

  ‘I-I-I . . .’ he stammers. ‘I need to go.’

  ‘But it’s not time yet,’ I insist. ‘We still have another thirty minutes before Rio comes home.’

  Zen struggles visibly, torn between the idea of staying and whatever else is competing for his attention. ‘I know. But there’s something I have to do.’

  I bite my lip. ‘OK,’ I say softly.

  He studies my expression and smiles, wrapping his arms around me and drawing me into him. ‘Don’t worry,’ he tells me. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’