by Jacob Gowans
The next several days went by with almost no variation. Who do you want to be? What have you learned in life? What are your regrets? What are your strengths? Weaknesses? A new question. Day after day. Each one presented different challenges. The more he relived his past, the more his memory seemed to improve. However, it was difficult speaking about his role models, many of whom were no longer in his life: his parents, his foster father, Commander Byron, and Al. He still wasn’t sure he’d see any of them again. When he told Dr. Vogt about his parents’ death, he became very emotional because he’d never mentioned before how much he regretted not being there to help them. But he got better at talking. Sometimes he went for a whole hour, and the only thing to stop him was a dry mouth or a hoarse throat . . . or tears. The longer the therapy went on, the more he grew to believe that the point of the exercise was to understand himself better. But he never got to ask because the doctor never afforded him the chance.
The questions Dr. Vogt asked became more difficult to discuss. His homework assignments had quotations of his own words matched up with chapters to read. There were rare but beautiful moments in his monologues when Sammy discovered nuggets of truth—when the things he said startled even himself. Sometimes they were dark and ugly, sometimes they were pleasant and uplifting.
When Sammy got the question that asked What was the torture like? everything changed.
It was like starting all over again. He couldn’t find words to accurately express what he wanted to say. The frustration mounted until he was screaming at Dr. Vogt. The demon that Stripe had created (or worse, unleashed) inside him had lain dormant for many days, but now it wanted control. On that day, he hated Dr. Vogt more than he’d ever hated anyone. He wanted to lash out and break the arm writing those endless pages of notes.
That day nearly broke Sammy’s belief that he could be fixed. He didn’t cry at all during the therapy session. His jungle safari of emotions never explored that terrain, but it came close. When the day ended, his leg ached as if it’d been an all-day buffet for reptiles, his head throbbed, and his skin experienced hot flashes every few minutes. He received his next question at the end of the day. He didn’t look at it until he was in bed. Waiting until bed had become his ritual of sorts. When he did finally look at it, he broke down bawling.
What was the torture like?
This was his topic for three days. The second day was the worst. He hated Dr. Vogt even more for forcing him to do it all again a second time, and spent half of the session yelling until his voice went out. The rest of the session, he whispered his anger. Then, halfway through the third day, he had a breakthrough. And he knew if he hadn’t sat and talked to Dr. Vogt for all that time, it would have taken him much longer to receive the revelation.
“Stripe hurt me in ways I never knew were possible. I wanted to die, but I didn’t want to die at the same time. And I don’t know if it is because of fortune, or God, or luck, or fate that I was spared. I don’t know. But I don’t want it to have more impact on my life than other things. I want my life to be about the people I love, the girl I want to be with, you know, that stuff. Not what Stripe did to me.”
Dr. Vogt made a rare comment. “Perhaps not said very eloquently, but that’s a very mature thing to say, Sammy. Especially for someone your age.”
“I still worry if I’ll ever be smart like I used to be. I guess if not, I’ll deal with it. But my body works fine. And I don’t want to kill Toad anymore.”
“For now . . .”
He and Dr. Vogt shared a laugh.
“I feel better. I mean, my dreams still suck and I still get emotional when I think about things, but that will get better, too, I think. I hope. I guess that’s it, though. You know? I have hope.”
Their work continued for a few more days. The kinship he formed with Dr. Vogt was unique to any other relationship he’d had. Through the kaleidoscope of emotions he experienced in that small infirmary sitting across from the same face, Sammy felt a great sense of respect and gratitude for what the doctor was doing.
Then one day the doctor brought Sammy upstairs at the normal time, but did not take out his notebook or pens. Simply by looking at Vogt’s face, Sammy knew their time together was over.
“I had every intention of discussing your next question today, but something’s come up.”
It was like icy water had been splashed on Sammy as he remembered he didn’t belong here. Not in the infirmary, and not in Wichita. Not with the resistance. Out there was Toad and the Byrons working, and even farther beyond were the Betas—Betas and Alphas who might be in danger. He was meant to go home and warn them about Commander Wrobel. None of that changed the fact that something special had happened in this room—something important to Sammy.
“You already know Thomas monitors the surveillance equipment up in the tower and down in the basement,” Dr. Vogt explained. “Right now conditions are just such that they’ve had a major breakthrough with the decoding—this new lady from Alberta managed to do it. Anyway, they need all the hands they can get to help man the headphones and decoding machines. He asked if we could finish early.”
“What do you think?” Sammy trusted Vogt’s judgment more than his own.
“You’ve shown more progress than I expected. You’re not out of the woods yet. You should probably expect to have your bad days and good days. Emotional relapses are normal. But I think you’re okay. If okay can be applied so generally to anyone, then it can be applied to you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You’re a bright kid and very down to earth. Honestly, if what happened to you happened to most other people, they’d be a lot worse off than you. Part of that is you’ve already dealt with tragedy, but another part is that you’re made of tougher stuff than you think.”
Warmth and happiness surged through Sammy when Dr. Vogt said this. No one had paid him a compliment since Floyd in the butcher shop. The words fed his starved spirit.
“Thank you,” Sammy told him. “You saved my life.”
22. Secrets
April 27, 2086
JEFFIE STOOD IN FRONT OF HER CLOSET MIRROR holding two different outfits in front of her. The Game was minutes away from starting, and knowing she wouldn’t have time to decide later, she tried to choose which she should wear on her date with Kobe. Tonight would be their third date in a month.
All of a sudden, Strawberry burst in the door. “Hey!” she shouted. When she saw the clothes Jeffie held, she stopped and her eyes got big. “Wow! I like it! Getting some smoochie smoochie tonight?”
Jeffie rolled her eyes. “What’s got you all excited?”
“Hasn’t anyone told you yet?”
“Told me what?”
“Brickert’s the honcho!” Strawberry squeaked, then ran back out of the room.
Poor Brickert, Jeffie thought. He must be a wreck.
She tossed the clothes onto the bed, undressed from her pink and baby blue jumper, and put on her noblack suit. Upstairs in the cafeteria, Brickert had made good progress on a hamburger, far from the nervous basket case she’d expected. He waved when he saw her. Kawai and Natalia were with him.
Actually, Jeffie decided, he looks downright excited.
Just a week ago, Kawai had been honcho for her first time. Byron had pitted her against Li and Levu. Li had won. Now Kawai seemed intent on stuffing Brickert’s head full of as many helpful tips as she could think of. Natalia, on the other hand, looked nervous enough for the whole group.
Jeffie helped herself to a glass of juice and caught a look at the panel:
Team 1: 5th floor
Ivanovich, Natalia
Petrov, Ludwig
Plack, Brickert(*)
von Pratt, Parley
Tvedt, Gefjon
Zheng, Li Cheng
Team 2: 5th floor
Alanazi, Cala
Covas, Miguel
Covas, Rosa
Enova, Levu
Morel, Brillianté(*)
Reynolds, Kaden
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Team 3: 5th floor
Ndumi, Hefani
Nujola, Kawai
Otravelli, Antonio
Plack, Strawberry
Reynolds, Kobe
Yoshiharu, Asaki(*)
Victory: 2 wins
Maximum Game Length: 20 minutes
Start time: 16:30
“I must say, good woman,” Kobe commented from behind, “rarely have these eyes seen such well-designed teams.”
Jeffie turned to see him peering right over her shoulder. Kobe looked very, very good in the noblack. The dark cloth contrasted well with his blond hair and lightly-tanned skin. His angular, strong body was well defined by the tight cloth.
“I find myself compelled to agree with your assessment, young sir.”
Kobe drew a little closer and leaned into her ear, whispering, “So are you excited?”
Jeffie put on her most serious expression. “Of course. I’m always excited for the Game.” Then she walked over to Brickert.
As Jeffie had previously experienced, everyone had advice for a new honcho. Many were pleasantly surprised that Brickert had been tapped at such a young age. At one time, it had been widely known that Brickert dwelt at the bottom of the personal statistics. Even though the stigma still stuck, Jeffie knew it was no longer true. In reality, she and Brickert had steadily climbed the ranks for weeks. Both of them were now ranked in the top ten in all four categories.
“It’s too bad your brother has to lose his first Game,” Antonio told Strawberry from a few seats over.
Kawai sent a withering glare to Antonio. “You seriously need to get over yourself.”
Jeffie winked at Kawai in approval. Antonio knew everyone thought of him as the cocky new kid, but he seemed happy to fill the role. He did it so well, it was almost endearing.
“I’m trying. I’m trying. But my team’s won the last four of six. That should tell you something right there, darling.”
“I was on your team three of those Saturdays,” Kawai pointed out, “ and you were the first to be deactivated at least twice.”
“But not before taking out several other players,” Antonio said emphatically.
Jeffie looked at Brickert and rolled her eyes. Brickert smirked but said nothing.
“I know! I know!” cried Antonio. He waved his arms in the air like an evangelical preacher. “You all think I’ll never be as good as Sammy . . . but I’ll prove you all wrong.”
Jeffie wasn’t bothered by Antonio. She’d learned a while ago that he didn’t mean to trash on Sammy’s memory by wanting to beat his records. It was just in his nature to be loud and abrasive.
“I used to think the same thing,” Kobe called over to Antonio. His tone was friendly, but restrained.
“And?” Antonio asked.
“I played against him . . . and he beat me in everything.” Kobe’s statements surprised Jeffie; he still rarely spoke about Sammy.
Not deterred for long, Antonio collected his ego and talked on about his stats and performances to the only people who would listen: Strawberry and Hefani. However, he didn’t have time to get a full head of steam going because the lights dimmed, telling the Psions to go to their starting points.
“Let’s go team!” Brickert called out. His voice cracked badly, but Jeffie suppressed her urge to laugh.
Strawberry was not so generous, “Let’s go team!” she mimicked, doing a very good job of it, too.
Everyone laughed at Strawberry’s imitation, even Kobe, but he stopped when Jeffie shot him a warning look. Brickert ignored all of it and pushed passed the crowd. By the time his team had reached their portal on the fifth floor, Brickert’s determined, confident exterior had worn off. His face was a touch whiter than normal and his voice had an edgy quality. The subtle change in his demeanor had happened in mere minutes. Jeffie could relate. She’d gone through the same thing weeks ago. The oldest boys on the team, Li and Ludwig, tried to engage him in a discussion on strategy.
“The Games are going to be short, we should probably blitz,” said Li. “What do you think?”
Brickert looked at him for a moment, and then his face went in his hands. “Uhhh yeah . . . sure.”
“You alright, Brick?” Ludwig asked.
Brickert let out a long groan. Jeffie exchanged worried glances with Natalia.
“Can’t one of you take over for me?” Brickert moaned. “I’m not ready for this.”
“Just give it your best,” Natalia said in a soothing voice, gently rubbing Brickert on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Even if you don’t win.”
Brickert peeked through his fingers at Ludwig. “You think we should blitz?”
“We’ve got the two most reserved girls as the other honchos. We’re going to see some conservative strategies. You dig?”
“You have to call the shots in there,” Li told him. “We’re only going to do what you tell us.”
“Okay,” responded Brickert, taking short, rapid breaths.
“Game one, begin,” announced the mysterious female voice.
Li and Ludwig grabbed Brickert under each arm and hauled him to his feet. Ludwig stuffed the helmet onto Brickert’s head and smacked him on the behind.
“Lead us, fearless one.”
Every member of the team put his or her helmet on and walked into the darkness.
The setup was one that Jeffie had seen only a few times before. It reminded her of an upside down, three-legged stool. Each team started at the top of one of the legs, and met in a circle suspended high above the Arena floor. With only twenty minutes allowed in each Game, the action had to be fast and furious. If time ran out before all members of two teams were eliminated, the team with the most players won. If at least two teams were tied, play resumed until the ties ended.
“Me and Jeffie and Natalia will attack by air, the rest on the floor,” Brickert said. “Let’s beat them to the circle!”
“Brickert . . .” Jeffie started to say, but then cut herself off. With the stairs being so steep, getting there first meant putting themselves at a tactical disadvantage. Li and Ludwig had told him to blitz before they’d seen the setup.
Brickert should know he has to adjust.
“What, Jeffie?” he asked
“Nothing,” was her answer. Better to let him learn for himself.
The team rushed down the steps, and Jeffie followed. Brickert was the first into the air, using one palm in a high hover and using the other to blast and shield. Natalia followed shortly after. Jeffie, in the back of the group, was last.
Brickert’s plan ended in a spectacular rout of his own team. When his six reached the platform, both opposing teams were still on the stairs. No doubt realizing his mistake, he changed orders to have everyone rush Brillianté’s team. It wasn’t a terrible idea. The attack gave them the element of surprise, and they managed to take out two of her team before the positional disadvantage inevitably turned the tide against Brickert. But when Asaki’s team came up from behind they stood no chance.
Asaki’s team had won.
Brickert never recovered from the first loss. As the Game went on, he was more and more on edge. His instructions grew increasingly complicated, leaving Jeffie and others with no idea what they were supposed to do. By the end of the fourth match, when Asaki’s team achieved victory, Brickert had given up.
“You should have seen me in there,” Antonio said to Natalia and Strawberry as the Betas exited the Arena. “I practically took out Brillianté’s team by myself.”
Jeffie looked around for Brickert, but saw only Kobe, Kaden, and Miguel, all laughing hysterically at something Kobe had just said. Seeing Kobe reminded her of her date and how she didn’t have much time to get ready.
At the bottom of the steps, Brickert walked by himself. Jeffie recognized in his face the same frustration she’d felt when she’d lost her first round as honcho. It had taken a long time for the sting to go away. His face scowled up in the direction of Kobe and his friends’ lingering laughter, but when
he saw Jeffie coming back down the steps toward her, he gave her his attention.
“What did I do wrong?” She wasn’t sure if he sounded hurt or confused. Maybe both, but it only made her feel worse.
“I’m sorry, Brick. I know how it feels.” She didn’t feel like she was saying anything helpful.
Brickert just shook his head and glanced up again at Kobe, who was still laughing. He mumbled something that Jeffie couldn’t hear.
“What did you say?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Then he punched his other hand angrily. It was very unlike him to take a loss so seriously.
“Really?” Jeffie asked with raised eyebrows. “Because it looks like it matters. Are you mad at me? I tried hard. Really, I did.”
But he shook his head even more and quickened his pace up the steps. “It’s not that.”
Jeffie reached up and grabbed his sleeve. “Hey, talk to me. Then, what is it?”
He shot another reproachful glance back up the steps, and turned to her. “It’s your friend.”
“What about him?”
“He was laughing after I lost.”
“At you?”
“I don’t know, I think so,” Brickert explained. “He was laughing when Strawberry made fun of me. Seems like he’s becoming more and more like his old self again. You remember how he was. To me.”
He looked her in the eyes with a searching expression, but Jeffie felt only a wave of relief. At least Brickert wasn’t mad at her. She relaxed her grip on his sleeve and touched him gently on the arm.
“Maybe you shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Everyone laughed at Strawberry.”
Brickert pulled back. “Why are you taking his side?”
“I’m not taking—”
“He’s the same as he was! He doesn’t care about Sammy! He’s using Sammy to get to you. And I’m not going to take his crap anymore, I’ll tell you. I’m not a pushover. You watch, Jeffie, I’m standing up for myself.”