Rebels of Eden

by Joey Graceffa

  Can’t you think about anything else? Something helpful, maybe?

  Seriously, why do I have to be stuck in the brain of such an idiot?

  This isn’t the time, Yarrow, I hiss to her in my mind. Your party-girl ways won’t help the rebels out of this mess.

  Oh no? Like I helped the time we snuck out to that killer party at Tidal?

  I remember—or I know from Yarrow’s memories—how we partied at that exotic water-themed club. I remember the water slide, nearly drowning, the escape from the Greenshirts . . .

  There’s nothing at that party that will help us, I tell her.

  She sighs, and I feel her exasperation with me. Before the party, you dolt. How did we escape from Oaks in the first place?

  My eyes light up and I say excitedly, “The Chambers of Mysteries!”

  “THE TEMPLE CONNECTS to Oaks,” I explain once I’ve gathered everyone together. I tell Lachlan, Ash, Mom, Dad, Flame, and Angel. I don’t want to get anyone else’s hopes up yet. Dinner, and the party, are on hold.

  “The Sisters and Brothers are some of our teachers,” I go on, “and the school has a close relationship with the Temple. The main part of the Temple is guarded. Just by the Brothers, of course, and they couldn’t put up much of a fight, but they would be enough to cry a warning. If you approach from the school, though, the way should be clear. At most, there might be one sleepy attendant.”

  Flame looks impatient. “But why would we want to go to the Temple?”

  I tell them how, what feels like a lifetime ago, my Oaks friends and I broke into the Temple as a way to sneak out of Oaks and go to a fabulous party. It seems so shallow now, and thinking of the girl I was, I blush.

  “We passed through the Skyhall, and I found the Chambers of Mysteries.” I describe to them the honeycomb of rooms, dozens of connected hexagons, each room with six doors, each leading to another exactly like it. Most were empty, but one held something very interesting.

  “Bunch of superstitious nonsense,” Flame grumbles.

  Until I tell her what I found in one of the rooms. “I was separated from the others, and in one of the six-sided chambers I found a bowl of dirt. Real, fertile dirt!”

  “Were there any seeds?” Flame asks tersely.

  “No,” I say, hesitantly. “But there were a lot of rooms, and I only saw a few of them. If there is dirt from the outside, living world, held as a relic, mightn’t there be seeds, too?”

  “It is possible,” Flame admits. “But the odds are pretty slim.”

  “Think about it, though,” Lachlan says. “Someone in the Center had to have access to a seed in order to access the system in the first place, to change the programming, right? So there has to be a collection of seeds somewhere. If we know that there are relics from the outside, guarded by the Temple Sisters and Brothers, it is reasonable to think there might be seeds there.”

  “Sure,” Flame agrees. “Or there might have been one seed. Just one. And Chief Ellena already used it to reset the programming.”

  I cross my arms. “Do you have any other ideas?”

  “Well, no,” she admits. “But how would we get inside? As you say, the Brothers might not be fighters, but there are surely enough of them in the main Temple to raise an alarm. We can’t go through the street entrance. And Oaks is a closed school, with security. It’s not like we can just walk on the grounds and start poking around.”

  My father concurs. “We don’t have the forces to make a large-scale attack. Whatever we do, it has to be a precision maneuver, in and out with no one the wiser.”

  “And ideally, without loss of life,” Angel adds. “They might be Greenshirts and Center officials and inner circle elites, but they are also our neighbors. It’s not their fault they’re being controlled.”

  We’re all silent for a moment. Then, “There is one way.” I bite my lower lip. “Maybe.”

  “You can’t pose as a student,” Lachlan says. “They’ll know who you are in a second.”

  “If I tried to pass as an Oaks student, they would. But not necessarily if I came from a different school. Flame, you can still do fake, temporary lenses, right? Give me an identity that can stand up for a few hours?”

  “Sure, but Center elites pay top dollar to have their precious princesses protected. You can’t just saunter into the school.”

  “One day of the month I can. And so can the rest of us. One evening a month there is a party on the grounds for alumnae, parents, and for kids from other schools who are hoping to transfer to Oaks. Security is light.”

  “It’s possible,” my mom says. “But only one day of the month? We might not be able to hold out that long. When is the next one?”

  “Er. I’ve been living by moon cycles and seasons for the last few months. I have no idea what the date is today. But I know the open party is always on the same day of the month.” I tell them when that is.

  Flame sighs. “Figures.”

  “What?” I ask. “Is it almost a month away?”

  “Even worse,” she says. “It’s tonight.”

  We debate for a furious few moments, with the end result being that there is no way we can possibly get an equipped team together in time. But they’re just as certain we can’t wait another month. By then, the Center will have made their final attack and the outermost circle will be overrun.

  “It’s impossible,” Flame says at last as she gathers up her things and heads for the door. “Absolutely impossible, and completely bikking insane.” She tosses her final words over her shoulder as she leaves. “I’ll have my part ready in two hours. You all better do the same, because I’m going to be seriously annoyed if I pull a miracle out of my pocket and you guys don’t come through, too.”

  Mom and I look at each other and, despite the seriousness of the situation, can’t quite stifle a laugh.

  “Now we just have to form the team.”

  “I think we have them right here,” Lachlan says.

  “No!” Mom and I say simultaneously.

  “Mira and Carnelian got dragged into this. They don’t know the city, the security, anything about our ways. We can’t let them put themselves in danger.”

  “Rowan,” Mira says, very seriously, “how can you insult me like that? And Carnelian, too. We weren’t dragged—we jumped! We know the risks, and we both think the reward is worth any danger we might face. We had plenty of chances to back out, to go home, and we didn’t take them.”

  “Much as I hate putting anyone at risk . . .” Lachlan begins.

  “Besides yourself,” I say in a low aside.

  “. . . it might be our best bet to have them along. Angel, you said there was a spy in your group recently, right?”

  She nods. “Someone we trusted a great deal.”

  “And I know all of the rebel groups are organized in separate cells so that if one person is captured or compromised, the whole organization can’t be brought down. This is very risky, and if the Center finds out what we’re after, they’ll keep it under closer guard. We only have a chance now because they have no idea we know that we need a seed to access the system. The people in this room are trustworthy.”

  I can’t help meeting my father’s eyes. I see lingering shame there, and determination not to let his family down again.

  “So I think the mission to get the seed should only involve the people in this room. It will be a quick infiltration—Rowan for knowledge of the school grounds and procedures, some to go into the Temple, some to serve as a distraction. And all of us to fight our way out if necessary. But if all goes according to plan, we’ll be in and out with no one having any idea we’re not prospective students and their families.”

  My father agrees. “Then we can take more time to plan the attack on the Center itself. That would be absolutely impossible to do with a few hours’ notice. That will require our most elite forces, our best weapons, days of scenario training and drills. It will be the most dangerous, and most important, thing we’ve ever done. We’ll be lucky
if we’re ready for that part of the operation in two weeks.”

  * * *

  AFTER FRANTIC PREPARATIONS we have our fake lenses that, when scanned, identify Mira, Carnelian, Angel, Lachlan, Ash, and I as students in a second circle school who hope to get accepted to Oaks for their final year of school. Mom, Dad, and Flame are posing as parents. The identities won’t withstand intense scrutiny, but if we can avoid detection on the way there, they won’t have to. Oaks prides itself on being for a special, elite kind of person, and as long as we carry ourselves like we belong—in fact, like we are better than everyone else—we will probably be admitted without much inspection.

  I question the wisdom of bringing Pearl along. As one of the most notorious students Oaks ever had, there’s a definite risk of her being recognized. I don’t want to spoil her new life here by revealing her identity, but she is determined to come with us. After talking it over with Lachlan, we decide she should come. Her retinal scans within the school should still show her as Pearl, even if her identity in the rest of Eden has been changed. The school has its own security system. It might be useful to have a set of eyes that can magically open any door in the school. Though I’m nervous about the situation, I make sure her outfit includes a heavy veil, which seems to be fashionable at the moment. With her face hidden, that should be enough.

  At the last moment, I slip Aaron’s notebook underneath my clothes. That phrase, Heart of EcoPan, echoes in my head with a low-key buzzing. Somehow, I can’t leave the notebook behind.

  We move along underground tunnels, alleys, and secret passages through buildings and basements. The journey takes until nightfall.

  “The party starts in the afternoon,” I tell them. “That’s mostly for the older alumnae. They have a few caffeinated cocktails and talk about old times. Then once night falls the younger set takes over with a special themed party. I wonder what it will be this year. They can be pretty strict at Oaks, but the students have found plenty of ways of circumventing that. On alumnae nights, it’s a lot easier. There’s so much coming and going that the teachers can’t keep track of the students. And they don’t want to make the school look bad by criticizing or punishing their own students in front of parents or prospective applicants. So as long as the kids keep out of sight, it can be the most wild night of the month.”

  “So they won’t even notice us?” Mira asks. “Good. I don’t want anyone looking at me.”

  Somehow I get the feeling she isn’t just talking about the success of our mission, and I ask her about it.

  “Are you kidding?” she says. “Look at me! I look like a freak!”

  She’s wearing a dress of incredibly bright yellow and orange faux feathers that contrasts beautifully with her dark skin. It is short in the front, but trails down longer in the back. Her hair has been tamed beneath a chic little cap that looks like a bird in flight. Tendrils of fluffy marabou twine around her arms, suggesting the new feathers of a fledgling.

  “You look absolutely adorable!” I gush. “There are going to be girls copying your outfit in the next few weeks.”

  “I look like I just tumbled out of a nest,” she grumbles. “People are going to go blind looking at me.”

  “I know colors aren’t very loud in Harmonia,” I tell her. “But here, people really like to stand out.”

  “Yeah, Mira,” Carnelian says. “You’ll blend in by standing out.”

  Still, she looks down at her garish clothes in disdain, and I know she is longing for the moss-dyed linens of home. Carnelian is pulling at the high, stiff collar of his pin-striped ensemble, rubbing his wrists where the material scratches. I’ve taken wild animals and lured them into a cage.

  We don’t meet with any trouble on the way, which my dad says is surprising in itself. “I half thought we wouldn’t make it this far.”

  “The eternal pessimist,” Mom says with grumbling affection. It is so strange to see them together. It is like tragedy and hardship have somehow wiped out all past mistakes and grievances and let them get a fresh start. Like Pearl with her wiped brain, they have a clean slate.

  “It is strange, though,” Lachlan muses as we reach the inner circles, the place where he has been operating for the past three months. “Usually there is a checkpoint right there, across the bridge. I worried it might be tricky to evade, but it is unmanned.”

  I feel a strange buzzing in my head as we pass through.

  “I guess this is just our lucky day,” Angel says. She seems to be the most hopeful of all of us, and gives a little twirl as we sneak along. The rebels keep a storehouse of disguises for the times they have to move in other circles, and from the choices Angel selected an ethereal cream-colored dress in a princess cut, so simple in style, unadorned except for a single artificial rose in her décolletage. The rose, too, is cream, with the faintest hint of pink in the center spreading out like a blush. A silver headband holds a gauzy half veil that she has pushed back over her hair now. Later, when we get to Oaks, she’ll put it down. I made sure of this. It would be bad on so many levels if she got recognized. Still, I don’t want to tell her why.

  Such a difference between the old Pearl and this new Angel. It is almost impossible to believe that the cruel girl who dominated the school and this sweet resourceful person are one and the same.

  It is at that moment, when I’ve paused to admire the new Pearl, that I see her hand slip into my brother’s. Not just for a moment, not just in temporary reassurance. There is a kind of possession there. A permanence.

  I can’t help but gasp. “You two! You’re . . .”

  They see me staring at their linked hands. Ash and Angel exchange looks. “Well,” Ash begins, and flushes. “We’re kind of . . . I mean . . .”

  My brother was never the most eloquent at bravely expressing his emotions for women, but his flustered face tells me everything.

  Angel confirms it, more succinctly. “When I joined this rebel cell and met him, he seemed so familiar. Like I knew his face well. I thought maybe we’d known each other before I lost my memory, but he says no, we never met. Still, when I look at his face I feel . . .”

  She breaks off, and I wonder how she was going to finish the sentence. Instead she just smiles at him, her eyes full of love. “We started dating a while ago, and so far, so good.”

  It is a bright moment of joy in the middle of incredible tension, and I hug first Ash, then Angel.

  A little later, when she and I are walking a bit apart from the others, Angel confides in me, “Before, when I stopped myself, I was going to say something I know Ash wouldn’t like. But I know you would understand. When I first saw his face, I felt the strangest sensation, like I had something to make up for. An obligation to make him happy. Like I had hurt him and had to make it better. Isn’t that silly? And of course no guy wants to know that your feelings for him started out as some kind of guilty sense of obligation. Not very romantic, right? But after I got to know him the sensation faded, and now I just love him, purely and completely. You look so much like him, I felt a flash of it when I first saw you. Are you sure we haven’t met? You acted odd when you first saw me.”

  Part of me still feels like I should tell her. But now, when everyone has to be highly focused, is not the time to distract her with the story of her life.

  “After we finish this, there are some things I want to talk about,” I tell her vaguely.

  We come to the point where we have to leave the protective hiding places and proceed the rest of the way in the open city streets of the inner circles.

  “Just be confident, a little arrogant,” I advise the ones posing as students. “Laugh with us, and look scornfully at everything and everyone who isn’t part of your group.”

  “I know you’ll want to duck your head,” Lachlan says, “or slink near the wall so no one will notice you, but that’s the worst thing you can do. Keep your head high, and look like you own the world. Or at least the city.”

  I remember how to turn on the act.

  No,
that’s me, Yarrow chimes in. You’re still the timid girl who is more comfortable behind walls.

  Whatever, as long as it gets the job done.

  Ash is his old schoolboy persona, a bit nerdy, not extroverted, but he’ll obviously look like he belongs. Lachlan of course is used to masquerading as everything from a blind outer-circle beggar to an inner-circle elite, so he looks fine. Mom and Dad look just like old times, when I’d see them getting ready to go out to one of his hospital dinners, or her Center functions—conservatively well dressed, comfortable with their place in the universe.

  Mira is putting on a bold face that I think will carry her through the night. I have confidence that she can do anything. Carnelian looks uncomfortable, but I remind him that people will mostly be looking at the girls anyway.

  “In a party like this we’ll circle each other, judge each other, vie for dominance,” I explain.

  “Like a wolf pack,” Carnelian says.

  “Exactly!” I tell him. “You’ve studied wolves, so you’ll do fine. So, ears forward, tail up, and let’s be the alpha wolves at this party!”

  “WE DID IT!” Angel squeals, and I shush her.

  “Don’t look glad—look bored and superior,” I remind her. Our group, split up to be less conspicuous, has made it into Oaks.

  Instantly Angel seems to transform. She seems taller, more elegant, her neck angling to show off the most lovely contours of her face as she looks with well-bred disdain on the partygoers. I gulp in amazement. She has become Pearl.

  Then the illusion shatters as the corners of her mouth tremble with the threat of a giggle. “Like that?” she asks. “I never knew I was that good of an actress.”

  “It is perfect,” I say. Too perfect. Frighteningly perfect. For a moment, every part of me yearns to defer to her as I used to back when she was the queen of this school. I adjust her veil, making sure it covers everything but her lips. It doesn’t completely hide her, but it is dark now, the party illuminated by fairy lights and fake fire torches, and I don’t think anyone will look at her that closely. If all goes well, we shouldn’t be here more than a half hour.