by David Webb
“We might be able to escape.”
“Would you really want to? Look what happened when William escaped. My parents were killed, we’re being hunted, and an innocent girl died. If that’s what happens every time a recruit escapes, the Web would be better off if we stay where we are.”
Nicholas swung his leg toward her shin weakly. “After all this, you’re just giving up? You just want to suck it up and die? If we’re forced into servitude, you’ll roll over and take it just like that? Doesn’t sound like the Aniya I know.”
“I’m not the Aniya you knew, Nicholas. That girl died when her parents did. I don’t know what I am anymore. Maybe it would have been better if I had died with the rest of my family.”
“Please,” Nicholas said, the exasperation in his voice clear. “There’s no point in feeling sorry for yourself. You were meant for great things. I always knew it. You were never happy where you were, always looking for something more. There’s still a chance for that. We were close to getting that something more back during the war, and I believe that we can still accomplish it.”
“What do you mean? Who is we?”
Nicholas took a deep breath. “You know how I feel about the Lightbringers. I haven’t exactly kept it a secret. To you, at least. If they knew how I talked about them, they would have taken me years ago. Luckily, other people found out how I felt a few years ago and taught me various things that could help me. That could help us.”
“What people? You’re not making this any clearer.”
“People like your parents, Aniya. If you don’t already know, they were very active in the Uprising.”
Aniya looked down. “Funny how everyone knows more about my parents than I do. Even Salvador, who hadn’t seen them in years.”
“He would know them best. They started the Uprising and turned it over to him.”
“If my parents were so important, why didn’t they just lead it?”
Nicholas grunted in pain. “They had just started a family, so they weren’t willing to jeopardize their only child by becoming the public faces of the rebellion. That’s where Salvador came in. Ironically enough, that’s why your parents think the rebellion failed. The people followed a madman out for blood, but what they really needed was a stable leadership, one built on the ideals they were fighting for.
“In any case, we lost. Your parents were lucky enough to be spared, along with a few others, but for the most part, the movement was eliminated or trapped in the caves in the middle of the Web. When I got older and wanted to learn more about the Uprising, Gareth was the first one to reach out to me, and he taught me and Roland the ins and outs of the Web, along with all he knew about the Lightbringers. I would also meet with your parents occasionally, but they didn’t like me very much.”
Aniya scoffed. “What are you talking about? They loved you.”
“They did until they found out that Gareth had basically indoctrinated me. I had already made up my mind, and they understood that, but they dreaded the thought of me influencing you into repeating their mistakes. They also asked Roland to stay away from you. If they had known you spent several of your nights at the bar, they probably would have had a talk with Gareth.”
“Influence me? I’d like to think I’m a free-thinking individual, thank you very much.”
“That’s exactly why they were so concerned. The Web’s free-thinking people don’t make it very far along in life. They liked me less when they found out how I felt about you.”
Aniya fell silent.
“They didn’t want you marrying into another rebellion that would end with one or both of us dead.”
Before she could speak, Nicholas continued, “And the more I think about it, the more I agree with them. It’s not safe for us to be involved like that. I was foolish to think it could ever work. If another uprising begins, especially if I have any kind of leadership role, it’s unlikely I would make it out alive.”
“We can take care of ourselves, Nicholas. It doesn’t have to be like that.”
“In any case, everything kind of hinges on my friend now. I’ve gone as far as I can, and so have you.”
“Nicholas, who is this friend you keep talking about?”
“I told you, I can’t tell you. If they find out who it is before it’s time, it poses a serious threat.”
Aniya groaned in frustration. “You keep saying that, but you’re telling me everything else, things you never bothered to tell me before. And now that none of it matters, you’ll spill your guts? Except, of course, for the identity of your friend. God forbid that you—”
“I’m telling you all this because you need to hear it. You’re no good to yourself or anyone else if you’re willing to give up and accept servitude or death. I’m telling you because there’s still a chance. There’s something greater out there that you can be a part of. I hate that your parents are gone now, but what they represented isn’t dead yet. We have a chance to give new life to the Web.”
“I don’t care, Nicholas. I don’t care about your something greater. I just want my brother back. What part of that is unclear to you? I don’t want to be part of your rebellion, and if that’s all you’re living for, then I don’t want you either. I just want my family back. That’s it. That’s all I—” Aniya broke down. Everything came crashing down as she finally gave in. Tears flowed freely as if she had no audience, and she let herself hang from her chains like a rag doll, letting her tears splash in the pooled blood on the floor.
After a moment of nothing but Aniya’s sobs, Nicholas spoke again.
“I know, Aniya. I want him back too.”
She continued to cry, not expecting or necessarily wanting any more words from Nicholas.
Hours dragged on.
At her side, Nicholas seemed to be sleeping. Either that or passed out from the pain. Aniya simply hung limply, phasing in and out of consciousness but too uncomfortable to fully fall asleep.
Finally, the door opened again, light spilling in from the hallway and blinding her again.
Two men stepped inside and unlocked their chains.
Nicholas, awake now, was the first to break the silence. “Well, it looks like we won’t have to wonder about our fate for much longer. Just know that whatever happens, Aniya, I’ll stay by you no matter what.”
She felt a hand slip inside hers, and she didn’t pull away.
“Let’s go face it together, then.”
40
Aniya and Nicholas were led through the white halls of the Citadel, guided by men in silver armor.
Their silver-armored escort surrounded them, but they didn’t bother to lay a hand on their captives. They, like Aniya, must have known that there was truly no escape.
They even walked at a slower pace to accommodate Nicholas, who limped down the halls. Aniya fidgeted and wished they would hurry it along anyway. The longer their walk, the longer she had to imagine the horrible fate the Lightbringers had in store for them.
She had long since reasoned that whatever “servitude” was, it was the means by which the government produced its electricity. Maybe it was a new energy source from the mines, and they needed people to gather and process it. In the past, Aniya would occasionally decide that if it meant the entire Web would be supplied with free light, heat, and power, then maybe it was for the best. But seeing her brother at death’s door had banished any benefit of the doubt she had ever given the Lightbringers.
Finally, they reached the end of the hallway, and the Silvers opened two huge doors in front of them.
Aniya and Nicholas stepped inside, and the doors closed behind them.
They stood in a massive room, at least thirty feet tall. It was not as wide, but it was still an impressive sight. The room was white, floor to ceiling, and on one side of the room was a full-length window that spanned from one end of the room to the other, overlooking the Hub.
A man in a gray cloak stood in front of the window, his back to them.
“Welcome.”
> Aniya turned her head to the left and saw another man in a white suit sitting at a long table. He was smiling at them widely, his teeth flashing a color almost as white as his clothing.
“I wish I could say that I’m sorry for the circumstances which brought you here, but for the first time in years, they were entirely out of my control. You forced my hand at every turn.” He waved his hand, his smile remaining unnaturally still. “No matter. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
The man stood up and walked over to them. He took Aniya’s hand and gave it one firm, simple shake. Shivers ran down her spine as the man’s tongue darted across his lips.
He then took Nicholas’s hand, his smile growing a fraction wider when Nicholas winced in pain as they shook.
“I am the Chancellor, as you may have guessed. This man is my trusted Adviser.”
Aniya and Nicholas made no effort to introduce themselves, and neither did the Adviser, whose back remained toward them.
“My, what an unlively bunch you are this morning. I myself had a wondrous breakfast and am in the best of moods.” His smile inched back down slightly. “Lucky for you, I must say.”
The Chancellor walked back to his table and sat down, gesturing to two chairs across from him. “Please, sit.”
Aniya, despite her distrust, gave in to her exhaustion and sat down, Nicholas close behind.
“Annelise Lyons—”
“It’s Aniya,” she spat.
“Aniya, then. I must say, in another life, I would have loved to have worked with you. Not since the ill-advised Uprising have I seen such . . . spunk.” He laughed. “You would have made for a good Adviser. Lord knows mine lacks your personality.”
Aniya glanced toward the man by the window. He remained motionless.
“I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that we don’t plan on killing you. If our Operative had his way, you would be dead by now, but we’ve found that he’s a little too trigger-happy sometimes. To his merit, however, his instincts are good. If I had listened to my intuition, your parents would have died along with the rest of the rebels years ago. Maybe I was right after all.” The Chancellor shot an annoyed glance at his Adviser. “But perhaps things worked out for the best. As I understand it, certain individuals were growing restless with the current state of affairs.” At this, he stared directly at Nicholas. “Their removal serves as a reminder of what happens when you take advantage of the good graces of the Glorious Bringers of Light. Not that I intend to have you killed. Like I said, I’m in a good mood. You will both be allowed to live and serve the Web for the remainder of your lives.”
The Adviser spoke for the first time. “I’m not so sure that’s wise, your Excellency. I think the boy should die.”
At this, Nicholas, who had been hunched over in his chair in pain, looked up, eyes wide open.
The Chancellor narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who insisted on his survival in the first place. He helped us find the girl, didn’t he? And whatever happened to laying off the killing in times like these?”
“We were kind enough to let him live once, even offering full benefit among our ranks,” the Adviser said. “He repaid our kindness by turning on us and damaging government property. It will be several weeks before the train is running again. I think he has served his purpose, and I believe a swift punishment is appropriate for a traitor of his stature.”
The Chancellor frowned. “Perhaps you’re right.”
“No!” Aniya shouted, slamming her fist down on the table. “He may have tried to help me, but only because he cares about me. If you’re going to punish him, then punish me too.”
The Adviser shook his head before the Chancellor could respond. “There’s no need for that. His death will serve as an effective demonstration of power and authority. Your time in servitude will benefit the Web and help you understand the futility of rebellion.”
“It’s decided, then.” The Chancellor’s smile was gone, his expression now somber. “Nicholas, you will be executed immediately. Aniya, you will serve the remainder of your life dedicated to the Glorious Bringers of Light and your fellow citizens. You should be honored. As we have been gracious to only accept males into our . . . rigorous program, you will be the first female in hundreds of years, a landmark occasion if I do say so myself.”
Without hesitation, he pressed a button on his desk, and the large doors opened on the opposite end of the room. Four Silvers entered the room, two of them grabbing Aniya, who protested vehemently, and the other two grabbing Nicholas, who remained silent.
As the officers dragged them away from the table and out of the room, the Chancellor nodded toward Aniya.
“The Web thanks you for your service.”
The doors closed with a resounding slam.
41
Nicholas let the Silvers drag him down the hallway, the heels of his shoes scraping across the floor.
“I’m sorry, Aniya.”
Aniya looked up at him, but he stared dejectedly at the floor, his spirit crushed. There was no way out anymore.
“I should have just helped you escape. They would have remotely terminated me, but at least we wouldn’t be stuck here now.”
Aniya grimaced. “Hey, at least we made it to the Hub.”
“A fat load of good that did us.” Nicholas looked down and shook his head. “I’m sorry about your brother, Aniya.”
Aniya gave a small smile. “At least this way I’ll see him again. We’ll be serving together until we die, so there’s that.”
One of the officers smirked. “Is that what you think? You’re in for quite the surprise.”
“What exactly will I be doing?”
The other officer tightened his grip on Aniya’s left arm. “You’ll be fulfilling your role in society, supplying free energy to the entire Web. Now shut up.”
Suddenly, the two Silvers holding Nicholas changed direction and headed down another long hallway, while the officers with Aniya turned in the opposite direction.
“Aniya!” Nicholas began kicking helplessly, pulling at his captors.
“Nicky . . .” Aniya began to cry again.
“Tell William I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bringing you here. I’m sorry for your parents. I’m sorry for everything.” His voice began to fade as he began to disappear into the long white hall.
Aniya nodded as she was dragged away.
The officers carrying Nicholas opened a door and pulled him inside the room, and Aniya disappeared from view.
“Aniya, I love you! I’m sorry for not telling you before now, but I love you!”
“Nicholas, I—”
The door slammed.
Nicholas’s heart sank as he was dragged to his fate.
42
An intense sensation of vertigo raced through Aniya’s body as the elevator zipped down at breakneck speed. If it weren’t for the officers standing calmly on either side, she would have been convinced that this is how she would die, in a fiery crash at the bottom of an elevator shaft.
Finally, the descent slowed, and the elevator came to a smooth stop with a beep. Almost as if on cue, she vomited on the white floor.
The Silvers ignored this as three sets of six-inch doors opened, and they pulled Aniya out of the elevator, dragging her through her own bile.
Aniya looked around and found herself in a dark tunnel, lit only by small fluorescent lights mounted in the rock walls.
Rather than letting the officers drag her, she walked on her own, finding it painful to let her shins skid across the rock walkway.
The officers guided her to a metal sphere at the end of the path, and one of them opened what looked like a door and pushed her inside.
Aniya tumbled into the sphere and looked around. It reminded her of the train car she had shared with the Operative. There were two large cushions across from each other, and a few buttons were laid out on the opposite wall.
The Silvers climbed inside, shut t
he door, and pushed one of the buttons.
Aniya lurched as the sphere took off, whizzing down the tunnel almost as fast as the elevator had gone. She held her head between her knees as the vertigo only got worse.
Finally, the sphere stopped, and the Silvers helped her back out into an identical, dark tunnel. From further down the tunnel came a dim green glow, not unlike the light of the glowworms.
They continued away from the sphere and through the tunnel until they passed into a massive, glowing cavern, stretching deeper and farther than Aniya could see.
Dozens of pillars ran up and down the depth of the cavern, descending into darkness, but glowing with an eerie shimmer and bathing the rock walls in a bright green wash.
The sight was hauntingly beautiful.
Aniya looked around and noted that the wall of the cavern behind them was pure black and did not seem affected by the green light, but instead loomed blankly over the entrance she had just walked through.
The officers pushed her forward, interrupting her stare. She reluctantly continued, stepping onto a narrow walkway that protruded from the cavern wall and extended as far as she could see. She looked down at the infinite depth and felt her head rush with dizziness. Her stomach churned, and she wobbled slightly.
Behind her, one of the officers chuckled. “Thinking about taking a shortcut? We could meet you down there if you’d like.”
Aniya shuddered and stepped back to the middle of the pathway but felt herself careen forward again as a boot viciously met the base of her spine. Helpless, she stumbled forward, teetered on the edge for what seemed like an eternity, then lost her balance entirely and fell off the edge.
She closed her eyes tight, feeling a mixture of dread and relief. Falling to her death was almost certainly preferable to whatever torture awaited her.