Duplicities (Imaginations Book 2)

by Tara Brown

  “I recall her,” I muttered, still confused as to where she was or how she was named something so soft as Nan.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore.”

  “You will be for a few weeks. The cut wasn't severe but the infection was. We barely got to you in time.” He nodded, sitting on the end of the bed by my feet. He was too comfortable with me, considering we were alone in the room.

  “Can I leave here?”

  He laughed. “Of course. The Lost City is a free city. We don't have slaves or mind control. We are free people.”

  “The flawed.” I said it before I thought about it.

  “Uh, well.” He nodded, smiling and making his brown eyes light up. He was attractive, I could see that past the beard. “I suppose one could call us that. We are the original humans. We are basic and plain, and yet still surviving and free.”

  “Do your people know what we are?”

  He shook his head. “No. Most believe you to be droids but just simple and brainwashed. They do not know of the genetic mutation that you have. Not like me. I have been studying the effects over the years as people showed up with small things wrong with them. They really perfected it with you though, didn't they? It finally worked for them.” He stared into my eyes, as if studying them.

  “They said it did and that they were leaving as a result.”

  “That is very good news for the rest of us.” He offered me a hand. I took it, letting him shake both our hands. “It is lovely to meet you, Gwyn. I hope you enjoy your visit to the city. If you choose to make this your home, then I suppose I will see around. Hopefully not back here. The clothes on the table are for you. You are free to go, and if you have any problems with the wound or your health, please come back.” He stood and left the room. I felt weird about it, like I might have offended him. Of course, what I had called him was rude, but would he have been offended by something so simple?

  I climbed from the bed slowly, favoring the injuries inside of me as he closed the door. I winced and moaned as I pulled the clothes on. They were strange. I had been given thick pants, a thin shirt with no sleeves, and a sweater made of wool. I dragged them all on and then the wool socks. The boots were mine, only cleaner than the last time I had seen them.

  My stomach and lower back ached like I had been stabbed several times over. When I walked out of the room I didn't expect to find what I did. People roamed the halls, some in bandages and others obviously still wounded and seeking help.

  Men and women who appeared to be of some sort of authority walked around, talking to people and hurrying from room to room. The serenity of my room had been deceiving. There were many more women than men. Rodin smiled at me from the bleeding arm of a man. He smiled like he was saying farewell. I wanted to apologize but the hallway was packed. He nodded at a door to my right. I lifted my hand, opening it and instantly feeling a sick heaviness fill me. I stayed there in the hall for a moment. She didn't look up from the bed. My mother sat in the light of the lamp next to her bed and looked at the dark window. Her room matched mine identically. The calm look on her battered face was surprising.

  “She’s on some meds for pain. She might not respond the way you expect,” Rodin mentioned calmly, looking up from the man he was treating next to him. He seemed to read my mind as I looked in on her.

  I took a breath and walked into her room, closing the door to the noise and madness of the hallway, something she seemed oblivious to. I took a seat in the chair, lowering myself tenderly.

  Her eyes never drifted toward me. Her lips didn't lift to greet me. She didn't move except to mutter softly, “Your brother will never forgive you for making him leave the city.”

  Her words slipped in my ears but landed in my heart with a thud. It was the cruelest thing anyone had ever said to me.

  I didn't defend myself. I had no argument for the words she spoke, even if I didn't believe them. I feared them.

  I lowered my gaze to the concrete floor and replayed every memory I had of him. Bran slipped in there also. Everything had changed in such a short amount of time.

  There was no way to catch up to the ways and things I was feeling.

  I sat there in silence with her until I felt the walls creeping in on me. I looked up to find her sleeping. I got up, slipping from the room and closing the door quietly to not wake her. I couldn't face her statement or her, maybe ever again.

  “Gwyn!”

  I turned to see Nan in the hallway. She waved and even it was carefree and nonchalant. I wondered if she ever attached herself to anyone else or if she roamed alone and took her chances with the world. At least being the lone person in her circle she never had to fear losing anyone.

  “Good to see you’re alive and well.” She nudged me as she got closer.

  I sighed, still leaving my hand on the knob to my mother’s room. “Thank you for saving me.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe it was you who saved me. Gave me something to do to wash away the memories of the slavers.” She offered me a small cloth sack. “I was bringing you food. I didn't expect you’d be out already.” She glanced around. “Though all the slaves have sort of packed it in here. They probably needed you on your way so they had a bed for the next person.”

  I took the cloth bag and started eating the soft bread smothered in jam and butter. I moaned as it hit my watering lips. I was hungry in a way I couldn't even describe. I couldn’t recall eating last. I nearly choked taking such large bites. She rolled her eyes as if I was making a production of it all.

  “What’s next for you?” she asked as we walked to a set of stairs.

  “I don't know.” I let her lead me out of the building into the street. I stopped instantly, completely taken aback by the sight I saw.

  The city was massive, lights going on for what seemed like forever. The streets were wide with horses and carriages filling them. The lights all glowed in a yellow fashion, like the sun. I found myself staring, not even hearing what she said as she pointed and nodded. Her lips, no longer painted copper, moved quickly as she smiled and spoke about the city. I nearly got lost just listening.

  “Over there’s the library. Our whole history is there. You droids always seem enthralled by the library. Never been my gig though.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “Droids?” I asked. Rodin had used that word as well.

  “We call you Last City of Men freaks droids. You aren’t exactly normal.”

  My cheeks reddened but I knew what she meant. I had essentially said the same thing to Rodin. They were flawed and we were not normal. What a strange world indeed.

  “Anyway, that's the city hall. That's where the decisions are made.”

  Chills ran up my spine. “You have planners and superior engineers?”

  She scoffed. “No. We vote on everything. We have a democracy. It isn’t perfect but it's a far cry from being brainwashed and told how things are.”

  Vote? It was a word I knew but hadn’t really ever been able to use in too many situations. We didn't vote on anything except things in school. Subjects we would keep secret to learn as a whole. Though seeing it now through a different light, I suspected that was quite rigged as well.

  She nattered on more. “The far side over there is the spot with the shops and over there is the education sector.”

  “Education? Like schooling? There’s a sector?”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “We have to learn our trades. If you want to be a banker you must take it in school after your necessary education.”

  “Interesting.” It was similar to The Last City only the job wasn't chosen for you.

  She blew a long piece of hair from her face. “Not really. Education is the most important part of living here. Everyone has to tow the line, so to speak.”

  “Tow the line?”

  She groaned, standing in a way that made me think I was annoying her. “It’s an expression. It means pull their weight. Everyone has to contribute.” I wanted to ask more questions but I didn't. I co
uld tell she was inconvenienced.

  “So did you find that guy, the one you kept talking about? Telling him you loved him in your sleep made me think it was pretty serious. I could tell you were looking for him.” She stretched and gave me a grin. “Is that why you invaded the slavers’ city?”

  The memory of my dreams about Murphy trickled back in. They were memories. I remembered them now. “Murphy?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Lyle. I want to say Lyle.”

  Even his name made my insides tangle up. I could have cried, a true honest sob, right there on the stairs to the healers building if I had just let down my control a tiny amount. “No.” Instead, I gave a breathless answer and left it at that. My brain whispered terrible imaginations about his fate but I refused to believe them.

  “Well, that's too bad. We always need more men in The Lost City. Quite the shortage.” She took a step down the stairs, looking back at me. “You coming?”

  I scowled, not sure if I was or not. I didn't want to go back inside. I didn't want to see my mother and sit and wallow about my brother’s death. I didn't need to rehash my blame in everything that had gone wrong. So I took the step with her and followed her down the street. We cast shadows under the orange glow of the streetlights.

  “So why did you invade the slaver city?”

  My insides cramped a little as we walked. Partly it was the injury but on some level it was everything else stacking up inside of me. “I was searching for my friends.”

  “The girls taken from the kingdom?” She snorted like she meant to laugh. “Those religious idiots. Apparently, once upon a time we here had tried to tell them not to leave The Lost City. It was a fool’s errand building that kingdom. But they had ideas of what they wanted. A place where Jesus and God could be worshiped and blah, blah, blah.”

  I had almost no idea what she was talking about. I had read about Jesus and the Bible. I knew about God and Heaven and Hell. But I didn't know the kingdom people had come from here.

  “A man had come here with an idea and a bunch of our people followed him on faith. They built the kingdom and made him the king. It was crazy and they were foolish to think that the slavers wouldn't eventually come for them. I’m just surprised it took so long for it to happen.” She rounded a corner and walked straight to a large building. She put a key in the door and turned it but before she opened it, she gave me a look over her bony shoulder. “You aren’t thinking this is anything but a friendship, right?”

  “What?” I couldn't fight the frown on my face.

  “I’m not into girls, if that's what you’re thinking is happening here. I know the rumors about The Lost City, and most of it’s true but not for me.”

  I tilted my head, still completely lost. She pointed at my confused expression. “Exactly what I wanted to see.” She opened the door and led me inside.

  She tossed the huge key onto a dark wooden table and kicked her boots to the side of the wall, dinging the paint on the wood a little. There was an odor; it wasn’t entirely bad but it wasn't good either. It stung my nose for a moment before it mellowed. She walked into the kitchen as I slipped my boots off, carefully placing them off to the side. She pointed at me as she ate from a pot cooking on the stove. “Maria, this is Gwyn. Gwyn, this is my sister, Maria.”

  The girl looked exactly like Nan. They were identical in every way, except hair and clothing. Same green eyes, same golden skin, same tawny hair. Maria’s was soft and curly where Nan’s was hacked like someone had cut it with a sword. Maria was softer looking in general. She smiled wide, with no cruelty or insanity lingering in the look. “Lovely to meet you, Gwyn.”

  I smiled back. “You as well.”

  “Gwyn’s a droid from The not-so-Last City of Men.”

  I fought a wince, trying not to show my displeasure at being called a droid.

  “Nan, that's rude.” She smiled at me sympathetically. “Sorry, she lacks the necessary filter the rest of us have.”

  Nan gave her sister a look. “I have a filter, I choose not to listen. Feels wrong not just being honest.” She ate another bite of whatever was in the pot.

  “You must be starving.” Maria pushed Nan out of the way and grabbed a bowl, scooping the contents of the pot into the bowl with the spoon Nan had eaten with. She handed me the bowl. I almost didn't take it but my stomach demanded I eat. It grumbled loudly, making both girls look at my stomach. They giggled and got their own food.

  “Thank you.” The bowl was hot in my hands but when I sat I couldn’t stop from shoveling it into me. Maria put a plate of soft bread on the table when she sat too. They ate silently, perhaps disturbed at the way I ate. I was aware of it, and yet I couldn’t slow myself at all. The food burned on the way down but it tasted delicious.

  Nan got up and grabbed glasses, pouring cool water into them. I gulped back the water, soothing my throat and forcing the huge lumps of food down my esophagus.

  Nan snorted again. “You really have the manners of a slaver. You sure you’re from The Last City?”

  I sighed, slowing and forcing myself to chew. “Sorry. I just don't think I’ve eaten in a week beyond a few small things.”

  Maria looked worried. “You came here with the slaves?” Her eyebrows drew together. “Did you happen to see if many children were with the people running?”

  I stopped eating altogether, forcing my memories backward. “No. I didn't notice. It was chaos and I was searching for people so I never paid attention.”

  She chewed the bread slowly after dunking it in the saucy stew.

  Her name hit me in the chest when I realized Maria was the name of one of the superior engineers. Though she was clearly not the same sort of person.

  Sitting there in the comfort of their home I realized I didn't have this. I didn't have a home. Even my parents’ home was gone. I didn't have somewhere I could relax, somewhere I could be silent like we were.

  I didn't know what that meant, not entirely, but I knew it hurt me. It made me feel weak and exposed, more so than the open road. I finished my stew and sighed, feeling grateful in so many ways for the full stomach and warm room to sit and eat in.

  Their small home was similar in layout to the place Lyle and I would have lived together, if I had only been able to look the other way. If only I hadn’t gone exploring and found the alien Lisabeth. This was a homier space though, filled with a lifetime of things that created memories.

  “Do you have a trade already?” Maria asked pleasantly.

  I shook my head. “I was training to lead.” It made me smile. “I suppose that's not a trade here at all, is it?”

  Maria shrugged. “We have leaders. They just do their jobs based on public opinion and a consensus of what the masses want over what they think is best.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  She scoffed, for the first time sounding like her sister. “Not likely to be very lovely—more aggressive and stressful I suppose.”

  “Isn’t the population of this city more women than men? Wouldn't women be more kind, gentle, and honest?

  Maria laughed. “Women can be as evil and conniving as any man. Trust me.”

  Nan rolled her eyes, slumping her elbow on the table. She had been mostly observing our conversation. “I think you should be in the army.”

  Maria nodded at her sister. “Nan is in the army. She fights for the city if there is conflict.”

  I wrinkled my brow. “You fight as a trade, on purpose?”

  “You bet.” She winked at me, making me confused as to her meaning.

  Maria shook her head. “It is only in defense of the city. We don’t fight for anything but our own safety. We do not invade.”

  “And we do not rescue.” Nan said pointedly.

  Maria looked down instantly. “No. We do not.”

  Nan laughed bitterly. “We let people rot away with the slavers for all of eternity because they left the city. It doesn't matter what the reason is that they leave; once they do they are on their own.”

&n
bsp; Maria slammed her hand down on the table. “YOU WANTED TO GO! THEY HAD NO CHOICE! THEY COULDN’T CHOOSE TO GO FOR YOU AND NOT FOR THE OTHERS WHO HAVE BEEN CAUGHT!”

  Nan shouted back with equally explosive anger. “I AM THEIR CHILD! AS IS ANGELINA! WE ARE OBLIGATED TO FIND HER!”

  I stood quickly, completely unaware of how to cope with such rage being directed at the people you love. “Thank you so much for dinner. My parents will be expecting me.” I hurried to the door under their protests begging me to stay. I practically ran out the front door and onto the street. Footsteps followed me but I didn't stop until I realized I was a bit lost.

  “She’s my little sister. The slavers took her. I was meant to be watching by the river and we followed a butterfly and she got away from me and they took her.” Nan’s voice cracked so I turned back and looked at her, waiting for the rest of the story. “She screamed for me and I ran after her but they were already gone. They took her on horseback. I ran after them until I lost sight of them altogether. Then I came back here and the council refused to go after her.”

  I winced.

  “She’s seven and sort of special. She doesn't always see the reason for things but she’s always happy. She doesn't really talk, doesn't really say words. But you can tell she’s a happy kid.” She walked to me, rubbing a hand over her scruffy hair. “I thought if I got caught, then I could free us both.” She slapped her forehead several times, far harder than I could imagine hitting myself. “But I couldn't behave. I couldn't follow the rules. I kept getting in trouble, and the next thing I knew, it was two months since she’d been taken.”

  “It’s not your fault. It could have happened to anyone.”

  She laughed. “Why do I get the impression you don't believe those words at all? I bet that there isn’t a single person in this whole crazy world who disbelieves those words as strongly as you do.”

  I smiled back, fighting the urge to blurt my list of crimes against the people I loved.

  She nodded. “I knew it the minute I met you. You’re like me. You lost them and you can’t get them back.” A single tear dragged its way down her cheek leaving a clean streak where it washed away the filth. She walked to the side of the road and sat on the stoop of some random person’s house. “Tell me.”