by Sarah Noffke
“I’ve known for quite some time that if we found a balance we would achieve greatness, and that time is drawing near. We are a small state in this nation. The smallest. But soon we can slowly start to open our borders to allow more Dream Travelers and Middlings to join our ranks. Now that we’ve proven we know how to effectively give people what they want, we can extend our flawless government to others,” the President says and on cue the entire auditorium erupts into applause. People are polite, only clapping for a few seconds, but it’s enough to unleash a sneer-like smile from President Vider.
“Since our society has existed, we have controlled parts of the national government, ensuring that we had the privacy and security to grow our state to the prosperous one that it is today. Our efforts have paid off. It is my hope that our state, our society, stay secret, but we build it with great diligence and strategic minds. That is what I call upon you for. I need people who recognize the supreme balance that creates empires and wants to build them. I need Dream Travelers who know they will be a wedge or a bolt in our empire, so that the people we support can stand firmly on top of the structure we erect.” Again applause, this time longer, more fervent.
When the crowd quiets down, the President raises his chin up high and points out to the crowd. “Who out there wants to implement a strategy that works? Who wants to extend our greatness to others? Who wants to achieve the mission of the gods? Those who do, please say ‘aye.’”
And in unison the entire crowd chimes a low chorus of “ayes.” Mine is short, almost inaudible.
Chapter Ten
I skip agriculture hours to do the only thing that’s even more satisfying. Hiking. After my dream travel last night I have a dozen thoughts needling under the surface of my brain, all of them unable to emerge completely, unable to give me a definitive path to follow. Therefore I elect to trek the paths on the hills surrounding Lidill Park. If I had the time I could take them all the way to Mount Austin.
Three miles into the hike a weight falls off my shoulders and I feel a slight release from all the strangeness that’s been surrounding my life lately. Being in the wilderness for an extended amount of time always frees me somehow. I giggle at a songbird who bounces from branch to branch, singing a tune to attract a mate. His incessant tweeting is strangely compelling, although bordering on annoying. That’s when an acorn drops on my shoulder. I jerk my head up. The sky is clearly visible overhead. I’m on a path not covered by the usual dense canopy of trees.
Before I can move, it happens again. This time a stone drops on the path in front of me. It’s round and flat, like one of the stones found in the stream down below. I stoop to pick it up. It’s still wet. What? Swinging around, I size up the forest. I’m alone…it appears. And then from nowhere a duckling, all fluffy and yellow, drops through the air and lands on the pine-covered ground a foot in front of me. I scream and stagger backward.
It takes me approximately three seconds to realize the duckling isn’t a monster. And still, ragged breaths heave through my chest from the surprise. I step forward and the creature, frightened by my reaction, scuttles further on the path. I turn to the seemingly empty forest. Plant my hands on my hips. “Rogue, you better get out here and send this duckling back to its mother.”
From a cluster of trees not ten feet away, I spy his almost black curls and then one eye peeks out from behind a birch. Even from just the one eye I know he’s wearing a giant grin.
“You might think it’s funny, but I bet that momma duck is worried to death,” I say, my heart still hammering from the scare.
He slides out completely from behind the tree, dismissing me with a shake of his head. In only a few graceful steps he walks past me, picks up the duckling, and instantly it disappears. Then he turns, trains a mischievous stare on me. “They have like a dozen babies. I’m sure she didn’t even notice,” he says.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I say, wanting to slap him. If he was Zack I probably would have already, but Zack would never do something like that.
“I was just playing with you,” he says, slipping his hands into his faded jean pockets.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask. I haven’t seen him since the other night, but I had to rush home before we had a chance to discuss future meetings.
“Oh, just hanging,” he says, his eyes finding a spot on the hill just above us. I follow his line of vision.
“You’re camping, aren’t you?”
“What are you listening to?” he says, indicating the buds in my ears. I actually hadn’t had my music on for the last mile, since I was enjoying the sounds of the woods.
“You’re avoiding my question.”
He tilts his head forward. “Wanna keep hiking? I’ll join you.”
I allow myself a full five seconds to take him in, to run my eyes over the person who shouldn’t be standing in front of me. He’s wearing a blue T-shirt over his jeans, two things that were outlawed for Dream Traveler Reverians to wear years ago. Again I note how different he looks from how I remember him. He’s rugged now. The other extreme to Dream Traveler Reverians who are all lean and polished in their overly starched suits. Rogue looks more like a Middling Reverian now. That alone would send his father into a raging fit. “Yeah, sure.”
I tuck my earbuds in my pocket and take off down the path, hugging the edge to give him room to walk beside me. “Where have you been all these years?” I finally ask. My eyes flick up to catch a smirk spring to his mouth.
“All over. Tokyo, Fiji, Serbia. It’s amazing to be able to dream travel freely.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t know,” I say. “We’re still only allowed to dream travel one night a week for less than an hour, always with a set destination and a curriculum. And we’re never allowed to time travel.”
He cuts his eyes at me, nods. “I remember. However, dream traveling into the past is cool but you’re not missing much.”
“Yeah, just centuries of history,” I say, sarcastically.
“Well, I was trying to make you feel better.”
“Nice try. So you’ve just been dream traveling?” I ask. “Where do you live?”
He angles his head at the western mountain. “A day’s ride that way.”
“Ride?”
“By horse,” he says.
“You have a horse?”
“A few, actually.”
“Wait, you have horses?” I ask in complete disbelief. This information challenges everything I’ve ever known about Rogue. About anyone from Austin Valley. “Why do you have horses? To travel?”
“Yes, but they’re also work horses. I’m strong,” he says, flexing his bicep. “But I can’t build a house by myself.”
“Hold on a second,” I say. “You built a house? You’re joking.”
“Nope, I’m serious.” He shakes his head, pride in his eyes. “You’d love it. It’s off the grid and it’s simple, but has craftsmanship to inspire.”
“How did you get the resources to do all that?”
“I borrow money from the bank,” he says with a wink.
“Rogue!” I stop and actually slap him across the arm now. “You’re stealing!”
He tilts his head at me and gives a defiant look. “I’m borrowing,” he corrects.
I purse my lips and hold his stare. His eyes, along with the rest of him, have matured. There’s a loneliness in them which I don’t remember. Rogue was never the lonely type; he was popular, declining tons of social invites just to skip rocks with Zack and me. And I always suspected that people wanted to be around him because of his charm and not just because his father was President.
“So you built a house and have horses?” I say almost to myself. I think my head is close to exploding. Dream Traveler Reverians aren’t people who own horses and build houses. That’s what Middlings do.
“I’ve also got goats, two dogs, a mess of cats, and a cow. I need some chickens though.”
“What?” I say, still disbelieving this all. “Why do you have animals?”
My brain can hardly fathom an individual having animals. We have them here in the Valley, but the ranch serves the whole town. There are a few dozen Middlings who care for those animals. The idea that Rogue alone has animals, well, it’s as hard of an idea for me to digest as him building a house with his two hands.
“Em, you need animals to live off the grid.”
“Well, why do you live off the grid? Why don’t you live in a town?”
He shrugs. “There’s something satisfying to living the way I do. An independence I crave, that I didn’t have before I left.”
“So if you live a day’s ride that way,” I say, pointing to the west, “then that’s like what, fifty miles?”
He shrugs. Nods. “Probably.”
“You’ve lived that close for so long? Why?”
“I wasn’t always, but after I left I soon realized I had to stay close. I need certain supplies I can only get here.”
“So you’ve been back before?”
“Oh yeah, dozens of times.”
“And no one’s ever seen you?”
“Nope. I’m sneaky.” His smile is like a beat in the song I’d been listening to earlier. Compelling. Alluring.
“And you couldn’t sneak over and find me and tell me you weren’t dead?” I say, less angry and more frustrated by him and his secrets.
“What are you listening to?” he asks again, pointing to my iPod, ignoring my question.
I narrow my eyes at him. He’s always been a master at avoiding my questions when he wanted to. I shrug. Resign a little. “The usual.”
“You forget I don’t know you anymore.”
I think about how since before I could walk I’d spent most of my free time with Rogue and Zack. It was a political move on my father’s part. He was trying to strengthen ties with the President through family relationships. It wasn’t long after my second birthday that my father was promoted to Chief of Staff and Zack’s father to Treasurer. But still Rogue’s more a part of my childhood than almost anyone else. “You know me well enough,” I say, a strange nostalgia making the words hard to get out. “I’m listening to indie folk.”
“Oh, that’s your usual, is it?” he says with a clever grin.
I stop, take a single earbud and hand it to him. I take the other and slip it into my ear. Then I play the song I’ve had on replay lately: “3 Rounds and a Sound” by Blind Pilot. His eyes swivel on me when the guitar starts. He’s watching me with a strange curiosity. It’s hard to know someone so well and then meet them for the first time in their new life. That’s what it feels like to be with him now. Like we’ve been given a new life, but it doesn’t entirely belong to us. Just as the chorus starts I realize I’ve been staring at Rogue without interruption for too long. The smile he gives me ensures he’s spied my nervousness. He untucks the bud from his ear and hands it to me. I expect him to say something about the song’s haunting words. About the singer’s incredible voice.
“Gods, you’ve changed,” he says, shaking his head. There’s a mesmerized expression in his green eyes and as much as I want to look away from them, I can’t.
“So have you,” I say, unable to keep offense out of my voice. Rogue’s presence makes me simultaneously elated and angry. To look at him alive and changed challenges every part of my brain.
“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” Rogue says, in a soothing voice. “It’s just that you’re exactly as I remembered and then also better. Didn’t think that was possible.”
He used to tell me he favored me over Zack, but I half suspect he said the same to Zack sometimes. I wonder if this is part of that same game. I’m not in the mood for games.
Below his expression of curiosity there’s a secret in his eyes, like he just figured out something about me. He smirks and then his face shifts, like a new thought just occurred to him. He’s a changing storm. “Remember that time we were playing in that old tree and you fell out and broke your ankle and I had to carry you back?”
I laugh, the memory washing over me, bringing with it sounds and smells. “I thought your father was going to kill you.”
“The week of night terror punishment almost did,” he says too lightly.
“It wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have been punished.”
“Oh well,” he says, waving his hand, dismissing my sympathy. “Em, you ever play with girls or just troublemaking boys?”
“Zack is the furthest person from a troublemaker.”
“True,” he says, nodding his head. “You and Zack ever...?”
“Ever what?”
He pulls in a long breath and appears suddenly nervous. “Ever more than friends?”
“Oh no, I’m not certain he even knows I’m a girl,” I say and laugh to cover up my blush.
“He’d have to be blind and stupid not to, Em.”
“Zack is my best friend.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t know you’re a girl.”
“Well, I don’t think he sees me as a romantic prospect,” I say.
“Do you want him to?”
This conversation just took a turn I’m not sure how to manage. I shrug, thinking about the pathetic union Dee’s been trying to make with him. “It’s complicated.”
“Well, I think it’s fair to say that Zack and I see you differently,” Rogue says, an adorably handsome coy look on his face.
I’m unable to meet his eyes, so instead I pick up my pace, intent on reaching the first ridge before daybreak. “Yeah, so to answer your question, besides from Zack, I spend most of my time with Nona. She’s a girl,” I point out. “And not that much of a troublemaker.”
He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t flaunt a brilliant smile. Just keeps hiking, keeping pace with me easily.
“I’ve missed you, Em,” he says, breaking the silence finally. He gives me a tender smile.
Missed isn’t even the right word for it. I felt like someone cut off one of my appendages when Rogue disappeared. I don’t respond. He’s got to read the look in my eyes. Has to. He has to know from the overwhelming raw emotions in my eyes that without me saying it, I’ve missed him like crazy. I hope he does.
“How is Nona?” he says, kicking a patch of bark out of the path.
“Good,” I say with a genuine smile. “Indescribably she’s the best part of our family and also underappreciated in every way.”
“I’ve also missed the way you talk. You take simple phrases and make them perfect.”
I don’t return his smile.
“Nona started treatments last week. It’s hard to watch her deal with the pain but unfortunately it turns out she’s a Defect.”
“No, Em, no,” Rogue says, stopping, grabbing my arm. He shakes his head, bitterness in his eyes.
“What, Rogue?”
“Nothing.”
“Rogue, this isn’t right. You disappeared and made everyone think you were dead. And now you’re back, lacking any remorse and unwilling to disclose some pretty important information, like why you’re here, why you left, and what you know.” I’m standing, shaking.
“I shouldn’t be talking to you. I just needed to slip in and out. I shouldn’t have grabbed you. You’re not supposed to know about me, no one is. You’re better off not knowing,” Rogue says.
“You think I’m going to walk away now? Let it go? Pretend like you don’t exist? I already lost you once. Why are you doing this? Just stop being you for one second and be a little less stubborn.”
“If you don’t shut up right now I’m going to kiss you,” he threatens with a sheepish smile.
The laugh that falls out of my mouth surprises me. It instantly dissipates the anger building. Rogue laughs too.
“Gods above, I haven’t heard that...well, since the last time you said it to me,” I say, still laughing. Rogue always won all battles because he’d threaten me with a sloppy kiss. Since boys were awesome but disgusting it was the worst punishment I could consider. I laugh again thinking of the girl who used to pretend to gag when Rogue threatene
d to kiss her.
“I don’t think that’s going to work anymore, Rogue.”
“Oh, not so deterred by that threat, huh? I have my damn good looks to blame,” he says, shaking his head with a smile plastered across his face. “But I’ll have you know, I’m an awful kisser.”
“Nice try, but all your tactics haven’t distracted me from the heart of this matter. Tell me something, like why you’re back.”
“I won’t tell you that ’cause it’s not real important.”
“Then tell me something else,” I say.
He opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. Inside he’s battling something. His lips press together, seeming to bolt away the secrets he harbors. But I’m a pirate who won’t be deterred.
“I know they’re hiding something,” I say. “I snuck into my father’s office looking for information.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, looking impressed. “I would say you’re ballsy but that isn’t quite the appropriate label for you.”
“I know they’re hiding something and I think you know what it is. And I want you to tell me.”
“Em, you want me to tell you something even if you can’t do anything about it?”
“Who says I can’t do anything about it?”
He laughs. “Oh, I forgot you have the tenacity to change the rotation of the Earth.”
“Liar,” I fire back. “You didn’t forget that about me.” I smirk. “Now tell me what you know.”
“Even if it has the potential to burst the perfect bubble you live in here in Austin Valley?”
“Who said it was perfect?”
“Fine,” he says, his voice resigned, but his eyes holding defiance. He rubs his fingers over the stubble on his chin and sighs. “The injections…” he says, pauses, holds my expectant gaze.
“Yes?” I encourage.
“Well, they don’t help.”
Chapter Eleven
“What?” I ask Rogue. Disbelief is the first emotion to seize my thoughts. “If they don’t help then why do they give them to the Defects?”
He shakes his head, a brutal look in his eyes. “Don’t ever call yourself that.”