Corrupted

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Corrupted Page 7

by M. J. Kaestli


  “Then I found out you were here, and a candidate. I need you to know, if you are on the side of the State and you will continue on with the status quo, do me a favor and report me. I have no cause left to live.” His eyes went from a mist to actual tears, a few of them even escaping the wells in his eyes. “But if you want to bring about change, I want you to know, I would die for you or kill for you. Just say the word.”

  Freya shook her head; this was so much to take in. A mere few minutes ago, she was questioning whether he was sent to entrap her, to see whether his cover story held any validity. It was difficult to read anything past the face value of his words. It all added up in her mind; she would trust him, or at least start to, a little. He was nothing more than a broken man with an agenda born from pain which time had amplified, as opposed to healing it.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything right now. I know you. I spent so much time rethinking every facet of our mission.” He wiped away his tears. “You were protecting Ursa; you knew long before what she was. You were stalling, trying to find a way to give information without implicating her. I think you came back here to become the head of State, or at least to be someone influential enough to instigate change. I hope you went in there tonight and said exactly what they wanted to hear, and they choose you. I know your heart. I know what side you are on—the right one. I believe if anyone is capable of pulling this off, it is you. I believe in you, Freya, and I need you. The world needs you.”

  It was now Freya who welled up with emotion. This sounded a little too familiar. “But I am just one person. What can I possibly do?” she said with a cracked voice.

  “But you are not just one person, Freya. You have me, and I am sure there would be hundreds of others who would follow you. We have to play by the rules for now, but not forever.”

  The pressure and responsibility placed on her shoulders felt like a force crushing her chest, making it difficult to breathe. Or perhaps it was twenty years without having someone to talk to. She began to sob, sob like she had not done since Ursa was alive and there to hold her.

  Lewis reached out for her and pulled her head down onto his chest and soothed her while she wept. They laid together for some time, and she found great comfort in his embrace. Perhaps if they were still young, they would have stayed like that for much longer, but the floor really was not a comfortable place to lie, and their bodies were mature enough to feel that discomfort.

  Freya got up and crawled into bed. Lewis hesitated for a moment, and then lay down next to her. He tucked his arm underneath her head and continued to rub her back with his other hand. She had learned to live without sex; it often didn’t even cross her mind anymore. But having him there with her, she realized she was starving to be touched. They didn’t talk any further; there was nothing more to say. He was not officially a part of the rebellion, but he had the same beliefs. He wasn’t willing to die for a cause; it was his knowledge that if there was no change, there was nothing left to live for.

  Freya started to drift off to sleep. Lewis asked whether he could spend the night there with her; and she consented, and she nestled into him even more. Her mind started to think of why him sleeping in her apartment could be a bad idea, and then she shut it out.

  He was not Colin, and he never would be—but Colin was gone. He had just sworn himself to her, offering to kill or die for her. Perhaps she should accept him for what he was—he was a man who was broken, just as she was. He could be the friend and confidante she had been longing for, the support that she had so desperately needed. She had cared for him once. It was not truly love, but it was something, and given the right circumstances, it could possibly be more.

  Chapter 7

  When she woke up, Lewis was gone. Although part of her was disappointed, another part of her was relieved. There most likely would be no penalty for him sleeping in her room, but it was not a risk she wanted to take.

  The military lived by a different set of rules, much like in independent living. There was no rule that said they could not fraternize, but she didn’t feel it was a good practice for someone in the running to become the head of State.

  Nothing happened, except the treason, but that was not how it would appear to others. This, of course, didn’t need to be a conversation between them—Lewis obviously understood. He may come to visit her time to time, and he would leave just as silently.

  It was key for her to keep up appearances. The State wanted compliance, routine, and order, and so that is what she needed to give them. She changed into her exercise clothing and went to the small room.

  Now that Lewis was in her life again, she could admit she always missed him every time she had exercised. He was such good company in that way, continually pushing her, but making sure she was pushing safely. She always paired the exercise bike with strength training; she could push harder on her training that way. Running would always be her favorite, and after a good, long run was the perfect time to focus on her flexibility. Lewis had taught her that, and she continued with the ritual all these years without him.

  After she finished her workout, she showered and got dressed. A part of her was relieved that the garden was finished, and it would be her usual routine as normal. Devina may be her ally, but there was something about her Freya found annoying. It could just be her youth, or perhaps it was because she was a little ditzy. Females in independent living were different; she hadn’t had to be around anyone like Devina since she went to school.

  She worked throughout the day, happy to have a distraction from her thoughts. It would be so easy to dissect her meeting with the Council the previous night, or her encounter with Lewis. There was something even deeper that she didn’t want to think about. Could I ever really love again?

  All the thoughts and emotions tried to surface at some point throughout the day, and she continually pushed everything back down in a forced calm. If the State was to arrest her, they would have done it by now. If she had done well in her interview, she wouldn’t know anything for quite some time. The situation with Lewis—well, that needed time to sort itself out on its own.

  The day had passed, not particularly quickly or slow, but it had passed. Making it through a day when there was so much going on felt like its own victory. The Council would be that much closer to making a decision. She had made it one more day without being betrayed or caught. Every day meant she was closer to the end, or a change of some kind. The monotony of her life was eating at her.

  She headed back to her apartment, and just after she finished eating her evening meal, there was a soft knock from under the floor.

  She didn’t get up or call out, and the floor hatch opened softly a moment later. Lewis climbed inside her apartment and closed the access door. He didn’t say anything; he simply walked over to her and grabbed her pulling her body against his and he kissed her passionately.

  She almost couldn’t respond she was so caught off guard. She shouldn’t have been surprised; he had been open about his feelings for her. It was more the aggression in the act; it in its own way was quite bold, which wasn’t at all what he had been like intimately when they had lived together. He had grabbed her so intensely, the top button of her uniform ripped off.

  “Is this such a good idea?” She pulled herself away.

  Lewis just cupped her face in his hands. “I don’t know if we will have many other opportunities like this. I don’t even know if we will live through this.” He kissed her again more gently. “Please, make love to me,” he whispered to her as she tried to pull away from him again. She looked at him for a moment; his eyes begged her to give in. He kissed her again, but this time she started to kiss him back.

  Her head said no, but her body was aching for human contact more than she had even realized. She wasn’t sure if she had been repressing a flame in her heart for him, or if she was just so sick of her life. There was no purpose to having a love affair with him, but it was something she had a choi
ce to do or not to do, and that made it more appealing.

  He led her over to the bed, and she pulled his shirt off and ran her hands over his chest and arms. He was still a very muscular man, but his body had changed in the time that had passed. Her fingers kept discovering scars as she traced her fingertips along his skin, little bumps and lines that had not been there in his youth.

  His skin felt different; it was softer and more pliable. His kiss was different also. He used to wait for her to instigate anything physical, in which he always proceeded gently and cautiously. Now his kiss was hungry and desperate, as though he were trying to make up for their lost time together in just one night. He seemed to have lost the patience he once had; it almost seemed he was barely in control of himself during their lovemaking.

  “I love you,” he said softly to her, caressing her face.

  She didn’t know what to say. No matter what she said, it would be wrong because she could not say to him what he wanted to hear most.

  “Can I sleep here with you again tonight?” She simply nodded in reply, not quite trusting her voice to speak. “We are going to be great together, you’ll see. You will even love me eventually. Someday I am going to be sneaking into your office to see you when you are the head of State.”

  His last statement actually made her laugh.

  “Well, there is the access in Victor’s office you could use,” she replied playfully.

  It was not her admission of love, but it was something. A token acceptance that she could possibly make room for him in her life, even if she became the head of State.

  “I know we can never be coupled, especially not now. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still be together. We just won’t be together as much as regular couples is all.” Something about the way he spoke was so idealistic; he sounded like a child. This was something kids did before they were coupled, not grownups.

  It still warmed her heart at the thought of it. It wouldn’t be so bad to sneak about with him, would it? Can’t I have this one guilty pleasure? So much of her life had been spent in misery. Why not take this simple pleasure of a love affair, a companion, a friend? It couldn’t even be that frowned upon if they were discovered, not with his outstanding military record and their history together. It would also be nice to have a friend and a confidante.

  At the very least, she knew she was in need of a distraction. She had been so on edge, it was difficult for her to look innocent even when she was. She should be thrilled, honored, to be in the running to possibly become the head of State, yet it was difficult for her to display the emotions she did not actually possess.

  Perhaps he could bring her some joy and others would see that light burning inside her, and it could help the Council to see she had what it took to lead the people. If they were discovered, he was an upstanding member of the military; it was not as if he would hurt her reputation. It was not as though she had involved herself with a less desirable member of society.

  Lewis got up from the small bed and picked his underclothing up off the floor. His gaze paused for a moment, and he bent down again, finding something small and dark on the floor.

  “Oops, looks like I destroyed some State property.” He held the button from her uniform out to her.

  Freya simply rolled her eyes and took the button from his hand, placing it on the table beside her.

  “I may have never destroyed a uniform in this way before, but as a greenhouse worker, my uniforms need replacing regularly.”

  “You better hold onto that, just to be safe. I bet it can get mended easily enough.” He crawled back into the bed beside her, nestling in.

  “I’m sure the person who takes care of my laundry can see to it.” She pulled the bed covers up around her chin, and settled in, feeling the warmth of his body next to hers. It didn’t take long for either one of them to drift off to sleep.

  That night formed their new routine. Once she was finished eating her meal, Lewis would sneak up at the access and spend the night with her. He never spoke of his assignment, or how it was he could stay in one place for so long, and she never questioned it. No one let on to knowing about her nightly visitor either. Perhaps they had gotten away with it, or maybe people knew but no one concerned themselves with such a matter.

  It almost felt as if she were living a chapter out of someone else’s life. His regular visitations had made each day feel so much shorter and her life more interesting. They would lie together and talk late into the night. Sometimes they spoke of deeply political matters, what the world would need for change; other times, they would speak of their pasts or reminisce about the time they had spent together on their mission.

  There were moments where she ached for the twenty years lost between them. If only they could have spoken openly then, if they could have been honest about what they were feeling, they could have been together this entire time.

  “Freya, do you think you will ever truly be able to forgive me for what I did?” he asked, which felt a little spontaneous and off topic for their normal pillow talk.

  She let out a heavy sigh. That was a tough one. “I don’t really know,” she answered. “I know that if it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else. She was ready to die, and you had no choice.”

  “You said no, and then you told me why you should. What is the catch?”

  “If I use that logic to forgive you, it means I also have to forgive myself. Those two wounds are a package deal, and I don’t know I am capable of that.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” He gave a little bitter laugh. “I know you don’t truly love me. I thought that was the reason why.”

  Freya turned and tried to protest his statement. She was genuinely fond of him; the statement wasn’t totally accurate. She felt if they had met under different circumstances, if their lives had not followed such dark paths, she would love him, deeply.

  He was of great value to her, as both a friend and an ally. If she were still the girl she was before Colin, or even before she became so deeply attached to Ursa, she would love Lewis with all her heart. The harsh truth of the matter was he would have been a far superior choice of a match for her than Colin ever was.

  He silenced her protest before she could begin. “I know it. I know that you do care for me, in the way and to the depth that you are capable of, and it is okay. I am grateful to have what we do have. I never expected to have anything like this in my life. I can accept it. I just wanted to understand why. I thought it was that you still partially resented me, or it was Colin. I guess the answer is the latter.”

  “It’s not Colin,” she said in protest.

  “Don’t you think about him?” he asked. “The ship will be landing soon. If everything goes smoothly, you will see him again soon.”

  “And I am now old enough to be his mother.”

  Lewis looked a little taken back. “Oh, I don’t know why, but I never really thought of that.”

  “He will be young, and I have grown up without him. Even if there wasn’t the age difference, even if he aged on the ship, I am not the person I was when he left. He wouldn’t even recognize me. We couldn’t just pick up where we left off.”

  “But we did,” Lewis replied. “Do you not love him anymore?”

  Freya huffed. That was a loaded question. “I guess I love the memory of him, but that is all it is. He is not a real person to me anymore, just a memory, a painful one. Besides, I still don’t know if he ever loved me, and that can change your perspective of a person over time.”

  “So it is more the situation surrounding him. You loved him, and he was taken away from you, and now your mind can’t accept or let you love again.”

  The truth of his words hit her. It hurt, but felt wonderful at the same time.

  “I think that is my problem, or at least a large portion of it. I once also loved Victor like a father, like he was my family, and I feel like he betrayed me. Then I loved Ursa as a mother, and she was taken from me also. It was so much loss, all in such a short ti
me frame; perhaps it made me stop believing that loving someone could bring anything into my life other than suffering. I think the greatest downfall of moving into independent living, I’ve had twenty years to focus on my grief, with no real joy to distract me from it, or to help me heal.”

  “I can accept that,” he said. “We live in very unsure times. Just as I said many years ago, I am not in a place where I can make you any promises. There are very few members of the military who are older than me. I think it was the realization of my own mortality that gave me the nerve to tell you how I was feeling. I could be gone tomorrow, or you could. That is why I wanted to talk to you about this. Thank you for being honest. I just don’t want to have any last regrets, you know?”

 

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