Stitch (Stitch Trilogy, Book 1)

by Durante, Samantha

  Lizzie took her mother’s hand and picked up the story. “I wasn’t sick. On the contrary, I was young and healthy and somehow unlucky enough to have caught the eye of one of the bureaucrats. They…” she looked down and took a deep breath, fighting back tears. “They sterilized me and then they forced me to serve as a concubine. For two and a half years, I endured their abuse day in and day out…”

  Alessa felt physically sick as Lizzie continued her hideous tale. She’d had no idea such atrocities were taking place. “… until one day I finally had enough. I attacked one of my… patrons…”

  Regina took over, pained but proud. “The Ruling Class likes their women compliant, and my Lizzie is anything but.”

  His face pale, Joe whispered, “How did you get away?”

  Regina held out her hand to signal that she would get there. “I have an old friend on the inside. As you might know, before all of this I used to head a media empire. One of my old producers was recruited into the Ruling Class and assigned to lead production on the dramas. When Lizzie was jailed for her insurrection, she was cast in one of the shows.

  “My friend knew they were testing memory wipe technology on the ‘actors’ since they were all prisoners who wouldn’t otherwise be willing to comply, and he had ethical qualms about it to begin with. Then they tried to feed him some garbage about how the prisoners were endangering society, but he knew Lizzie and he knew it couldn’t be true, at least in her case. He was able to speak to her in private and when he learned what she’d been through, he started looking more closely at what was going on. He learned that I was alive and helped her escape to me.”

  Alessa was shocked to learn that the actors on the dramas were really prisoners, people like her who had been stripped of their free will. She had watched those shows every night, even after the effects of the drugs had worn off; she’d enjoyed them. Once again she felt sick. She couldn’t believe the atrocities in which she had unwittingly been complicit.

  Regina sat down, clearly drained from reliving her horrendous story. Alicia stood up to continue. “By that point, some of the workers in certain efficiency units had gotten wind of something dubious going on – rumors of people secretly living in luxury, that sort of thing – and workers were starting to openly rebel. Shortly before Lizzie escaped, they began drugging the food and airing the dramas. We don’t have the right equipment to do a positive identification, but we believe the drug is some sort of sedative that dulls the senses and induces a mild state of euphoria. The idea was that if we were all kept happy and our minds were occupied with entertainment or work at all times, that they could keep us under control.

  “We’ve since learned that most of the people within the Ruling Class don’t realize how bad things are. Only a small subset of people know about the drugging, and everyone else thinks that the workers are well aware of the existence of the bureaucracy and that they support the Ruling Class in their mission to ‘design a perfect society.’

  “They don’t know that people are being exploited while the Ruling Class lives in comparative luxury, devoting their minds to intellectual debates about how things in Paragon should be run. Like Regina’s friend, many of them are good people who would be appalled to learn what’s going on, and we are slowly recruiting those people to our cause.

  “I think in the beginning the Ruling Class was intended to be a temporary installation, just until the leaders figured out how to make a truly egalitarian society work. In the aftermath of the outbreak, there were thousands of people crowded into this quarantine zone with little order or direction, and once we lost contact with the outside, I think whoever was in charge realized we would need a more permanent solution in order to survive for much longer. So they plucked a collection of the best and brightest and asked them to figure it all out. That’s when they started handing out the work assignments and organized everyone into efficiency units – I’m sure you both remember.

  “But Paragon is still a work in progress, and as you can imagine, designing a perfect society turned out to be a bit trickier than they expected; from what our allies within the Ruling Class have shared, it sounds like it was difficult to get consensus on pretty much anything. And then – as always happens when you give a group of people power over another – things just got out of hand. They may have started with good intentions, but at the first sign of conflict, a few bad seeds wielded people’s fear to steer things in the wrong direction, and that’s how we ended up where we are today.”

  Regina nodded in assent and took the lead once more. “Our mission is to end the exploitation and bring down the Ruling Class once and for all. We’ve been covertly recruiting soldiers for about a year now, and we can use as many people as we can get. It’s not easy, and it’s not safe, but it is serving the best interests of everyone here.”

  Regina paused and looked Alessa and Joe each in the eye in turn before she brought her discourse to its conclusion. “The question then, for you, Alessa, and you, Joe, is are you willing to join us?”

  25. Conviction

  Alessa woke in her bed at Zeta Epsilon Pi. For a moment, she felt content and well-rested, enjoying the bright sun falling through her window. And then she remembered. The vivid dream she’d just stirred from – the outbreak, the colony, the rebels – was not a dream at all.

  In the last 24 hours, Alessa’s world had been shaken entirely to its core. Alessa was not a college student, and Isaac was not a ghost. This campus was not real. And suddenly Alessa had far bigger concerns than how she would fare on her exams this semester. Her every move was being watched, and one foul step could mean the end. It was a rude awakening to learn that her comfortable bed was, in reality, no better than a cold prison cot.

  Alessa thought over her detailed dream and the others like it that she’d been having all semester long. She knew now that they were far more than they appeared. They were memories, buried in her subconscious and pushing their way to the surface, little seeds of truth that had taken root long ago and refused to stay dormant any longer.

  In her head, Alessa tried to piece her various dreams together to figure out the timeline. She guessed that the latest dream had happened earliest, since the others all involved being captured and imprisoned, or discussing upcoming missions. How long ago had this all happened? How old was she really?

  She tried to picture Joe, but all she could conjure was Isaac’s face. In her dream, she had felt so close to Joe. He had been a huge part of her life – her confidant, her co-conspirator, even her crush. Alessa rolled over to ease the guilt that was crushing her chest. How could she have forgotten him?

  Willing herself out of bed, Alessa plodded to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She was standing at the sink when Lizzie strolled in, flashing her bright perfect teeth in Alessa’s direction. All of the envy she’d felt toward Lizzie melted away, replaced by compassion and respect. Alessa would never again begrudge Lizzie her beauty; it had cost her far too much. For the first time, Alessa responded with a genuine smile. She wondered how Lizzie had ended up on the show, and if she had any recollection of reality. She wondered if Regina even knew where Lizzie was.

  Returning to her room, Alessa sat down at her desk and checked her email, hoping for a message from Janie. Her inbox was empty. Of course, it would be stupid to put anything in writing, especially on a network that was probably being monitored by the producers. Now that bits and pieces of her former self were coming back, Alessa was eager to tell Janie of her progress and to ask her the million questions that were circling in her mind. But she would have to wait.

  In an effort to keep up her ruse for the producers, Alessa grabbed her ethics book and moved to the bed to feign some reading. She opened the book and allowed her eyes to scan the page, not taking in a single word. Instead, she concentrated on trying to remember how she’d ended up here.

  She tried once again to concentrate on Joe, on remembering who he had been to her. Thinking back to her dream and all the things she’d felt, she conjured an outli
ne of the person she thought he might have been. Good-natured, handsome, strong, honorable. Caring and protective, but playful, even a little bit mischievous. She closed her eyes and repeated his name to herself, visualizing a different version of Isaac, pushing herself to re-forge those connections that her brain had lost.

  And then, suddenly, she remembered.

  Alessa was pacing in her bunk, a knot in her stomach. She had slunk off from her afternoon work duty to steal a glance at the courtyard, hoping to get a glimpse of Joe as he finished his assignment. Joe had only been working with the rebels for little over a year, but he’d proven himself a valuable asset, and today he was executing his most dangerous assignment yet. She was eager to see him safely returned.

  Alessa shivered and pulled her scratchy sweater tighter over her bony shoulders. Like many of the rebels, the recent cold front had been difficult on Alessa. With winter approaching, they were all starting to feel the effects of malnourishment from the restrictive diet they kept to avoid ingesting the drugs. As such, Joe and Isaac had agreed to steal some extra rations of food from the supply kitchen on behalf of the rebel forces.

  Peering out the window to check if Joe and Isaac were on their way toward the meeting spot, she noted that the courtyard appeared perfectly sound, with only a handful of residents milling about. But Alessa knew better. Rebel intelligence showed that there were at least four guards posted in the area in concealed positions, waiting to quash any sign of rebellion. The residents of Alessa’s efficiency unit had no clue that they were under almost constant surveillance by the Ruling Class. Alessa thought wistfully of the days when her ignorance shielded her from the truth as well.

  Movement at the far corner of the courtyard caught Alessa’s eye, and she was relieved to see Joe and Isaac strolling casually together across the open square. They were almost to the alleyway where Alessa knew they would be passing their plunder to another rebel team when one of the residents resting in the plaza called out to Isaac. Alessa couldn’t make out what they said, but she saw Isaac stop and bend down, as if tying his shoe. As he reached forward, something shiny and red – an apple? – shook loose of the side pocket on his backpack and landed on the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust around the point of impact.

  Alessa held her breath, and then out of nowhere, the guards appeared. They rushed towards Isaac and Joe, tossing Isaac to the ground while Joe flailed and screamed, various foodstuffs flying from his pockets as he tried to draw their attention. It worked. The guards abandoned Isaac, who lay placid in the dirt, and turned on Joe.

  Alessa’s heart dropped – she ducked lower behind the window, clutching the sill in a death grip as she watched Joe fight for his life. There were just too many of them, landing blow after blow after blow. He collapsed to the ground and they fell after him, merciless.

  After a few interminable moments, the guards withdrew, peeling the knapsack from Isaac’s back and dragging Joe’s listless body behind them. Alessa brought her hands to her mouth to stifle a cry. She was shaking from head to toe, her body urging her to fight, but she knew that nothing she could do would be of any use. Joe was gone.

  Isaac was still lying on the ground, the glazed look in his eyes matching that of the vacant onlookers who had withdrawn into themselves at the first sign of violence. Bitterly, Alessa observed that the drugs had done their job.

  With the guards out of sight, she saw Isaac slowly get to his feet and head toward the nearest entrance to the bunks. She knew the guards were probably still watching, but she couldn’t let him weather this alone. That was the last thing Joe would have wanted.

  Alessa grasped the windowsill and unsteadily hoisted herself up, running down the hall towards the entrance that Isaac had been heading for. Isaac rounded the corner, dazed, and Alessa nearly plowed him over in her haste. When he saw her, he broke down.

  “It’s my fault. It’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Isaac muttered to himself as Alessa pulled him into an empty room, closing the door behind them. Isaac sank to his knees with tears streaming down his face, and Alessa held him to her chest, gently hushing his cries. He was 21 years old, almost a man now, but in her arms he wept like a child. Alessa was only two years older than him, but she’d never felt more protective of anyone than she did in that moment.

  “It was an accident, Isaac,” she whispered. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  Isaac heaved and clung to her. After a few moments, he regained enough composure to look Alessa in the eyes. “I’m so sorry, Alessa. It’s my fault. I just bent over and – and I killed him… I killed them all.” Isaac collapsed into himself again, burying his face in his hands.

  Alessa stroked his hair and held him once more. “Shh, Isaac, it was a mistake. I saw everything. It was a mistake. There was nothing you could have done.” Excruciating pains seared through Alessa’s chest, ripping through her like she’d been stabbed in the heart. She wanted to wail and thrash and cry out for justice, but she knew she had to be strong for Isaac now. He didn’t have anyone else left.

  She looked down at Isaac and wiped the tears that streaked his dust lined face. “I know you’re hurting. I am too. But we can’t let them see. They would know immediately that we’re not on the drugs and we’d both be taken away. Joe would want us to be strong. Okay? I need you to breathe.”

  Alessa took slow, deep, rhythmic breaths to show him and Isaac followed suit, clutching her hand all the while. After a few moments, they both appeared calmer, at least outwardly.

  “Okay, Isaac. That’s better. We have to go back to our shifts now. We have to act like nothing happened. You did a great job pretending out there, and now you need to do it again. I’ll come find you tonight and we can talk, but for now, we’ve got to go on.”

  Isaac gulped and nodded. “Thank you, Alessa, for being here. I… I don’t know what I would have done. I promise I’ll be stronger, for you, from now on.”

  Alessa tenderly cupped his face with her hand. “What you did today – laying still while they took Joe away – that was the strongest thing you could have done. I don’t know how you did it. I don’t blame you for what happened, Isaac. Please don’t blame yourself.”

  He just looked down.

  And with that, they both straightened up and parted ways, bonded perpetually by their loss.

  26. Elicitation

  Alessa sat up and dropped her ethics book into her lap, a blistering pain surging through her head. The memory of losing Joe seemed to unleash a floodgate.

  Alessa’s vision swam as the rest of her memories finally came back to her in a rush of images and sounds and emotions. An odd stitching sensation surged through her head, like thousands of tiny needles weaving in and out of her brain, pulling her neurons back into place with a firm and unwavering hand. The pain was searing.

  Alessa fought through it and placed the book to the side as gently as she could, struggling not to attract the producers’ attention. She curled up under the blanket, hoping that the production team would interpret her actions as boredom with her studies. Once safely under the covers, she pressed her hands to her temples, tears leaking from her eyes as she grimaced from the pain. She stifled a cry as the throbbing in her head grew more intense and waited for the agony to end. But the onrush of memories persisted, unrelenting.

  “That was close.” Still breathing heavily from their mad dash across the compound, Isaac locked the door, a satisfied smile settling across his face.

  Alessa struggled to suppress her ragged breaths, anxious to attract any notice.

  Stepping deeper into the small room, Isaac fingered a long, neat row of uniforms hanging on a rack. “Looks like our intel was good.”

  “Let’s just change before anyone finds us here,” Alessa advised. Alessa had only been in the service of the Rebel Alliance for a few months now, and this was one of the most daring assignments she’d been on yet. It was one thing to risk getting caught outside the bunks after curfew for a basic reconnaissance mission – at l
east she could make up some excuse in that case – but if they were discovered stealing wait staff uniforms and sneaking into a meal at the headquarters of the Ruling Class, she didn’t know what explanation could possibly get her out unscathed.

  Isaac smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Less – this isn’t my first attempt at this, and it’s always worked out fine.” Handing a uniform to her, he added, “Here, this one looks like your size.”

  Isaac’s confidence did much to assuage Alessa’s fear – she trusted that Isaac knew what he was doing. In the aftermath of losing Joe, Isaac had become one of the rebels’ most admired crusaders, flawlessly executing dangerous missions and covertly winning the rebels supporters and allies amongst the workers and the Ruling Class alike.

  But in the wake of Joe’s death, Alessa had been in shock at the brutality with which Joe had been apprehended. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the finality with which he’d vanished, as if he had never even existed. But after witnessing Joe’s fate, Alessa knew she could no longer entertain any delusions that Paragon’s rule was benevolent. Whoever was behind Paragon’s secrets had made it clear that they were not about to let anyone stand in their way, and their show of force with Joe had finally convinced Alessa that something truly sinister was lurking below the surface of their peaceful little settlement.

  Watching Isaac honor his brother by fighting back, Alessa had been inspired to finally join hands with the rebels in earnest. And she’d been relieved to find that her missions allowed her to channel her grief over Joe into rage, a rage that had helped her find a courage inside of herself that she hadn’t known existed.

  Taking a deep breath, Alessa mustered that courage and accepted the uniform from Isaac. At any rate, it was too late to turn back now. Unzipping her jumpsuit, she turned modestly from Isaac’s view. Isaac smiled sheepishly before considerately moving to the other side of the rack to afford her some privacy.