I pull the needle from my arm that has been removing the antifreeze drugs and replenishing my blood. I rip the pads monitoring my heartbeat from my chest and drop them to the floor. I’m ready. I have to be. I slip into one of my old jumpsuits and find a pair of my boots, still waiting in their usual spot as though nothing has changed.
But everything has changed.
This will be the last time I set foot in this room.
“I’ve programmed you a window when the security systems will cycle through their test settings. It means they’ll power down momentarily,” Hartman says, waving his hands furiously over the holo-display at his desk, zooming in and out of the schematics of the Tower. “Momentarily!” he repeats. “You won’t have long to get there.”
“How long?” I ask.
He pauses, scrunching his hair nervously as he thinks.
“Hartman, how long?”
“Thirty,” he replies.
“Minutes?” I ask.
“Seconds,” he says, looking back at me.
I stare at the projection illuminating his face, my route shown by a thin yellow line that zigzags through the corridors, service stairways, and emergency exits.
A small beep interrupts my doubts.
“It’s time,” Hartman says, the alarm indicating ten minutes until Eve receives her dinner. He looks at me. “This is it,” he says, his magnified eyes looking out at me.
I can’t think about the possibility of not seeing him again. Or what fate lies ahead of him if he’s discovered.
He stands and we embrace.
Friends.
Partners.
Brothers.
“Thanks,” I say. That word isn’t enough, but it’s all I have.
“Go!” he says, and pushes me toward the door. I hear the emotion in his voice. “Don’t screw this up!”
I laugh. “You know me,” I say.
“Exactly,” he replies.
I stand at the sealed door of our dorm and take a breath.
“Ready?” Hartman calls.
I look over my shoulder at him.
“Thirty seconds. Don’t stop,” he says. He taps his finger on the display, and our door swishes open. I hear the clicks of the cameras powering down in the hallway outside.
“Go!” he cries.
I run.
64
EVE
“Let’s get you dressed, then give you some supper.” Mother Kadi fusses as we walk out of the bathroom.
“No,” I tell her. My stomach has been in knots all day. The very thought of food makes me feel nauseous.
“It’ll do you good to have a nice meal,” she says in an irritatingly upbeat manner before retrieving clothes she’s already laid out on the bed for me and handing over my white cotton underwear.
I can remember the first day they gave me a bra to try on. It was almost a ceremony. Mother Nina brought in a measuring tape and differing sizes of the same white design, while a select few of the Mothers joined us, all taking pride in the way my body was changing. The little girl they had raised was slowly turning into a woman. For them that day was full of hope and promise. To me it was just another item of clothing, a restrictive one I was relieved to take off at the end of each day.
“Pants?” I question with a croak, confused at the sight of the charcoal item she’s holding out for me.
“You’ll be in your gown when you go over to see the doctor, but you may as well be comfortable until then,” she reasons, shaking them at me.
“True.” I take them from her and put them on. My fingers fumble while I try to fasten them, alerting me to the tremor in my hands that I hadn’t realized was there.
“Here,” Mother Kadi says softly. She does up the button, then the zipper. Her hands rest on my hips, as though she’s trying to steady me.
“Thanks.” I sigh.
She picks up a light gray T-shirt, which she gathers together and eases over my head.
While I sit on my bed, my mind spacing out over what’s to come, she puts on my black socks and trainers. “Put this on too. It’s cold in here tonight,” she says as she guides my arms into a black hoodie and zips up the front.
The warmth engulfs me like a much-needed hug. But I don’t want the comfort of a piece of clothing. I need a human to give me that physical support. It’s such a natural instinct, such a simple desire. I want something real.
Impulsively I jump forward, catching Mother Kadi off guard. Crouching, I bury myself in her chest, my arms cradling her bony little frame.
“Bless you, child,” she whispers, her hand sweeping the stray hairs from my face, her eyes looking deep into my own. She kisses my forehead and rests her warm cheek against mine, her hand holding me there.
“If only Mother Nina was here too,” I say into her softness.
“She loved you very much, Eve.”
“Thank you for being there when I’ve needed you,” I say, taking her in. I’ve always been fond of Mother Kadi—she’s an intriguing little thing, with the wisest eyes I’ve ever seen, but we’ve only grown closer in the last few weeks since we were robbed of Mother Nina.
“My role with you is not over yet, Eve,” she says, pulling my cheek back to hers, as though she’s soaking me up—an action that makes me question her words. If things were going to stay the same after tonight’s procedure, I’m not sure she’d be talking to me like this.
We stand there for a moment or two, knowing that in less than an hour the connection between us will be different, our lives altered—even though we’re unsure of the specifics, just certain of change.
“Sit down, Eve,” she whispers, gesturing toward my desk as she pulls away from me.
“I’m really not hungry,” I moan as bile rises in my throat.
“You will eat,” she says sternly, her forehead wrinkling into a frown.
Not wanting to argue, I do as she asks and sit at the table, ready to move my food around the plate so that it looks like I’ve at least tried to obey.
I shuffle in my seat as the tray is placed before me. Yet when Mother Kadi lifts the silver cover, I barely look in the direction of my food. Because there is another object on the tray. A Rubik’s Cube. And I can tell instantly that it’s not mine. Because this one has been tampered with. Around the squares of color I see little crinkles of white: the stickers have been pried off and repositioned.
I blink at it.
I’ve only ever seen a Rubik’s Cube look like this once before, but it wasn’t real. It never actually existed. Right?
My heart stops as my brain tries to comprehend what’s in my hands. This is Bram’s. Peeling back the stickers and repositioning them was the only way he could ever complete the puzzle. I’d spent ages perfecting my technique and learning to master the cube, but Bram never had. He’d found his method worked far better, and his Holly would always tell me so with the biggest grin.
I force myself to swallow the smile that is dying to spread across my face while I rotate the object in my hands, enjoying something of his having such weight. I wonder if this was the actual object used in their trickery, or one that’s been created for me to hold right now. I’m unsure what to think. All I can focus on is that it’s real. It’s no longer just an illusion. His reality is now mine. My body tingles at the thought of him being near, even though I know there’s no chance of that, but this is a bridge, and I make the most of the gap between us seeming that little bit smaller.
I hold the cube. Rotating it, rubbing it, my fingers tracing every groove and crack that’s felt his touch, longing for something of his to rub off on me, wanting to be brought closer.
While I’m playing with it and inspecting every minute detail, as though this toy is alien to me and nothing like my own—because it’s been in his hands and feels different—my fingernail sweeps under the dog-ear
ed fold of a shiny red square.
I leave it there, remembering a conversation I once had with Holly: Sometimes you’ve got to peel the stickers off the cube, she told me.
My hand pauses. I want to believe something could be there, waiting for me…Slowly I peel back the red square. I stop breathing as I read two words: Throw me!
I peel back the green sticker next to it, just to be sure, and again read, Throw me! The blue says, Throw me! and the yellow: Throw me!
Throw me!
Throw me!
Throw me!
“Let’s go for a walk, Eve.”
My head whips up at the sound of the familiar voice they’ve not let me hear for so long.
I’ve missed her…
I’m startled by who’s before me. This is not the Holly I love. This isn’t any Holly I know.
I look toward Mother Kadi for a sign that this isn’t another of Vivian’s tricks, but I quickly realize she’s busied herself in my wardrobe, turning a blind eye to whatever is going on, even though I’m in no doubt that she’s part of it. I’m dressed in the same outfit as Holly.
“Now, Eve,” Holly pleads, her hands quickly waving at me, vying for my focus. “You have to go.”
I don’t know this Holly, but given that she’s turned up straight after I’ve found a hidden message, I’m too intrigued to sit and question her. I thought I was trapped here, but now might be my one and only chance to run for freedom. To take what life has given me and lead with love and clarity.
“Bring it with you,” she commands.
I get to my feet and go to my bedroom door, knowing she’s going to follow. Even though I have no idea of what’s going on, I do know I don’t have long. A sense of urgency burns inside me, my legs moving quicker by the second.
Throw me!
I know where I have to go.
Throw me!
I know what he wants me to do.
I run as fast as I can through the living quarters and the garden zones, my legs not stopping until I burst through the glass doors of the Drop and feel the warmth of the evening breeze hit me.
I look at the beautiful sight in front of me—the flawless blue skies on the brink of another glorious sunset, the same magnificent view I’ve loved for years.
Taking a deep breath, my chest heaving from the sprint, I launch myself forward. When I’m a few meters from the edge, I pull my arm back and around, letting go of the gift from Bram and sending it up into the heavens.
I watch it climb high into the sky before it eventually curves downward from gravity’s pull, the colors spinning into a blur toward the world below.
Its journey is cut short with a loud bang. The cube bounces against an invisible force, changing its direction of movement, and ricochets uncontrollably before coming to an abrupt halt midair.
Midair.
I crouch at the edge of the Drop, getting as close to it as possible and trying to make sense of what is happening.
The initial patch of blue sky that made the first connection to the cube flickers. Lines of black-and-white static spread across a piece of perfection. After a couple of seconds it blinks into a black square, a hole in the view—a patch of nothing.
I gasp. Of course. I already knew Holly wasn’t the only piece of fabricated reality I’ve been exposed to, a piece of advanced technology with which I’ve had a fake connection. But I wasn’t expecting this.
“Are you serious?” I shout, turning to Holly, who’s standing behind me, looking on with a face full of sorrow. “What is it?” I ask, my mind still unable to fathom the magnitude of the illusion in front of me. “Has everything been a lie?” I struggle to ask the question.
“Perhaps they just wanted to make you care,” she offers back, her hands opening up to the fake sky above.
But she has no idea of what I’ve been exposed to lately, or how deep the lies run.
“It’s to keep me here,” I say, my voice low as my temper flares at the thought of the pretty prison they’ve stored me in until my body ripened and became useful to them.
“Perhaps,” she concedes with a slight nod.
65
EVE
“Eve, we don’t have much time…,” she hisses.
Looking past her, I see the glass doors of the Drop, which must have locked behind us as soon as we stepped out here. Already I can see security guards bashing their weapons against the panes, struggling to get in. Beyond them I see her, Vivian Silva, her face twisted in anger, shouting at them to work harder, get to me faster.
There’s no way I’m going back through those doors ever again.
“What do I do?” I ask Holly, exhaling as I look back down at the sight beneath my feet—a huge drop into the clouds, then down into the unknown.
“It’s only a couple of meters,” she says, walking forward and joining me. “You’ve seen the cube. It’s not real.”
I nod to tell her I’m listening, but also to prepare myself for what I’m about to do.
“Lower your body as much as you can, and then it’ll only be a very small drop.”
“Really?”
“I promise,” she says adamantly, crouching and leaning precariously, in my mind, over the edge as she gestures to something below.
“Thank you,” I say, lowering myself onto my bottom and shuffling forward so that my legs dangle in the air—a position I’m used to here but will never adopt again. This is the end of my life in the Dome.
“What’s it really like out there?” I ask, suddenly nervous. I’ve spent so long making up ideals in my head, having Vivian dream up her own version for me, that I’ve no idea what to expect, or why she wanted to hide the truth from me so badly. It was so terrible she decided to build all of this for me, but I don’t believe reality could be any worse than the feeling of emptiness they’ve given me.
“I think you need to see it for yourself,” she answers.
“I do. I really do.” I turn onto my front, crawling backward on my forearms. “Are you coming with me?”
“There’s no way I’m missing th—” She turns to the right, looking worried and expectant.
“What is it?” I hiss, edging myself back onto the ledge and running over to her, but I can’t help. I’m not where she is.
“Jackson, man. What are you doing here?” she asks, as though talking to someone she knows, but there’s no one here. A frown forms on her face as she becomes panicked. “You’re wrong. She has a right to decide for herself. To choose—”
A force pushes her forward and cuts her off. There’s a yelp of severe pain as her face contorts in agony.
“What’s going on? What’s happening?” I scream. Even though I know this isn’t my Holly or any Holly I’ve met before, I’m aware of the torture happening to the person beyond the illusion. Her body glitches in and out of focus. Each time she reappears on the floor of the Drop, she does so in a different, agonizing position.
“Go, Eve. Now. Now!” she insists, unable to open her eyes even to look at me.
“Then what? Then what?” I scream.
But she can’t hear me over her own cries.
I can’t watch, yet I find it difficult to leave her.
A bang draws my attention to the glass doors, which have been blown apart, causing shards of glass to fly through the air.
“Stop her!” Vivian shouts above the commotion.
As a dozen feet start running in my direction, I turn and sprint. There’s no time to lower myself down gently into the unknown. Instead, when my feet find the edge of the Drop, I jump into the air and prepare my body to land. The ground catches me far more quickly than I expect it to. I land on my chest, knocking the wind out of myself. Glancing up, I see the spot where I spent lazy childhood days, thinking I was looking out at the universe and dreaming up endless possibilities for the future. Th
e thought saddens me. Not because I feel nostalgic for a time I once cherished, but because I feel sorry for that gullible little girl.
The view beneath my feet causes a sharp intake of breath to enter my lungs. Now I’m just like the Rubik’s Cube, suspended in midair while standing on a hard surface that doesn’t even buckle under my feet. It feels wrong to be standing still when my mind is telling me I should be helplessly falling to my death. I tell myself not to look down, but my brain is simply unable to compute the sight.
I focus on the task at hand. My freedom. My escape.
“Right, go right!” I hear Holly’s voice stutter behind me.
I launch myself in that direction, running on air as I go, sprinting across the sky, the noise behind me filling my body with adrenaline. I’m like a machine, my mind determined and driven, fixated on finding a way out.
I have no choice but to keep close to the building, the curve of the sky making gravity pull me in, as though it’s one of the men I can hear behind me, wanting to keep me here. But I won’t have it. I won’t be tied to this building and their storyline any longer. I have to find a way out. I have to leave. I want to leave.
I push as hard as I can, the soles of my feet pounding against the floor as I keep moving forward.
I’m aware of the men gaining on me—I can hear the rustle of their suits and the heaviness of their boots. I steal a glance behind me to see two men side by side, heading straight for me with determination on their faces. But I want this more, I tell myself.
“Keep going,” a new voice beckons me, although this time it’s my own.
I look up to see two versions of myself running in my direction. Whatever they use to create Holly must have been used to build me.
“What the—” I exclaim.
“Ignore us,” shouts one. “Keep going!”
“They’re getting closer,” warns the other.
“When you get there, Eve, open your mouth,” orders the first while sprinting past me. “Don’t forget! Open your mouth.”
Eve of Man Page 35