by Miria Masdan
“You see him too, right?” Smith says.
“He notices us,” Max takes off after him and we follow.
Max stays right behind him; I go to the right and Smith goes to the left. I jump over some neatly trimmed hedges and take a narrow path through a tightly landscaped area. I come out into an open area. The path goes around a circular fountain and then heads down and back to the main path. I can see the bartender ahead of me on the path. He’s looking over his shoulder and Max is right behind him. I charge ahead and tackle him around the waist, taking him to the ground before he even knows what happened to him. He hits hard, but he doesn’t give up the fight. He throws the first punch, and it hits me hard on my left temple. It hurts, and there’s a second of blinding light and a sharp ringing in my ear, but I recover and grab a hold of his shirt.
Max is dragging him back down and places a sound kick hard on his side. He falls, pulling his body into a fetal position. I knock him hard square in the jaw and Max slams him again. His body goes limp, and I restrain his hands and feet.
Smith strolls up, out of breath; he leans over and shakes his head, “couldn’t save any fun for me?’
Max laughs, “next time.”
We call for transport and wait for them to arrive.
I sit on a bench. Five minutes have gone by, and the man starts to groan. He rolls onto his back and opens his eyes. He is dazed at first but then he regains himself.
“I know you,” he says, looking at me. “You killed Marcus’”
“Marcus was a criminal,” Smith says, “and a non-citizen.”
“That’s right, we have no rights,” he says. “We are nonexistent, less than human.”
“You are illegal,” Max corrects.
“Who says?” he shouts, “the Federation? Whatcha gonna do when the Federation falls? It’s coming, the people are rising up and there are more of us.”
He laughs.
“Shut the Hell up,” Max kicks him again.
“You won’t survive without your upgrades and systems,” he won’t be quiet. “I know you and you and you…”
Transport pulls up, and two officers step out. They take him into custody.
“What an ass,” Smith says.
“Well that clears up our day,” Max smiles. “Let’s get started early.”
“To the Under?”
“To the Under,” I say.
We leave the city center and head into the old town. There is an alley marked with a cornerstone; that says 1947 with the name Morgan carved beneath. We walk down the alley and take our second left turn, down another alley and then enter a doorway marked with black paint. Inside we take the stairway down to the lowest level, find the room with the bird, open the interior door, pull open the floor and descend a ladder into a tunnel.
Unlike the East City, the West is not built on top of the old city. But there is a complicated maze of old tunnels and new tunnels that create a network for the black market. The West Under is not as dangerous as the East Under. It is mostly a place for fun, illegal activities: alcohol and sex.
I did not lie about the girls, but I did lie about their motives. They are friends of David Finches, and they are decoys.
We meet up with them at a bar called O’Neil’s.
“Quinn,” a tall blonde with green eyes kisses my check.
I don’t return the gesture. “Nicki?”
She nods at me.
“This is Becky and Jillian,” she looks at me with hungry eyes.
I feel uncomfortable, which is unlike me. I’m usually the first to be all over the ladies. I’ve never had much regard for them. I use them to fulfill my needs and then walk away. But something changed in me when I met Emma. I barely know her, and I am willing to give up everything for her. I’m exchanging part of myself to keep her safe, and I’m giving up any chance to be with her to shelter her from me, the world I represent and Benson’s threats.
Smith sits next to Jillian, but Max doesn’t approach Becky. He’s been acting weird. It’s like his mind is preoccupied.
Becky walks up to him and places her hand on his arm. He pulls away but smiles and then looks at me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, “this is Max, and this is Smith.”
Smith has no problem with Jillian. He has his hand on the small of her back, and she’s leaning in close with her mouth just inches from his face. She laughs, and he pulls her into him.
At least one of us is going to have a good night.
Max is finally sitting with Becky, but he’s still keeping his distance. He looks up at me, and I see a familiar look; it’s an aching heart. Is it possible that the cold, hearted, brutal Max has fallen in love? This complicates things.
I go through the motions with Nicki. She talks; I listen. She kisses my neck; I don’t pull away. But my mind doesn’t falter; I can’t think of anything but Emma.
Nick turns towards me; she leans forward allowing her legs to fall apart enough to bring her body close to mine. Her hand is on my leg.
I look down, and she places her other hand on the back of my neck; I shudder. She leans closer to me. I can feel her lip against my face.
“Who are you thinking about?” she kisses my cheek. “Who is she?”
I close my eyes. “No, one.”
“Let me help you, forget her,” she slides her hand up my leg, coming to rest just below my hip; her fingers touching my inner thigh.
A familiar feeling arises within me; it’s a mix of desire and anger. I usually only get this feeling when I’m about to fight. It’s the want to destroy, the need to protect and the hate I feel for myself because I enjoy it too much.
I look at Nicki. She is perfect. She is exactly what I usually look for, but I don’t want her. I want messy golden brown hair, dark, icy eyes, and a small, fragile frame.
I stand up.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back,” I lie.
I walk out the door.
“Hey!” Max’s voice calls after me. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t do this,” I say. “Not anymore.”
“So what now?”
“I have to go,” I say.
“When were you going to tell us about the reset?”
I turn and look at him. How could he know?
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I just can’t remember her.”
“So you thought resetting us was a good idea?”
“I did, “I say.
“But not now?”
“No,” I say. “but I still have to do it.”
“Are you sure you want to wipe her away?” He looks at me, “forever?”
“I do,” I say. “Please don’t mention her or tell me about her. I just want her to go away. I want my life back.”
“Okay,” he says.
“Who is she?” I ask.
“What?” he looks away from me.
“Who has you, all twisted?” I ask. “You can tell me…I’m not going to remember after tonight.”
“Grace,” he says. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“You can forget her,” I say.
“I don’t want to forget her, “he smiles. “I want more.”
“So do I,” I say, “that’s the problem.”
I walk away leaving him, Smith and my memories of her behind. I make it back to the topside and go straight to David Finches apartment. I’m early, but I can’t take the pain any longer.
I stand in front of his door, my hand ready to knock. I take a deep breath. I knock. I knock again. He opens the door.
“You’re early,” he says, he looks down the hall to his right and then to his left, “where are your friends?’
“They aren’t coming,” I say.
“Okay?” he motions for me to enter. “It actually works out better for me. I got loaded down with work and had to bring a bunch of stuff home.”
I ignore his small talk.
“Come into my office,” I follow him.
He point
s to a couch. I sit down.
“You know once I do this there is no going back, right?” he looks concerned.
“I know,” I say. “I don’t want to remember anything that has happened over the last week.”
“You don’t have to forget it all,” he says. “I can pick and choice to a certain degree. Take out a day here or a day there?”
“But I’ll still have some memories of her. I want them all gone; everything about her or that reminds me of her.”
“What the Hell did she do to you?” he asks.
“It’s not important,” I say. “Just do it!”
“Okay!” he brings over a receptor, unlike I’ve ever seen before. “This might hurt a bit. When you have a quick reset, it’s nothing but I have to go in and adjust an entire week.”
“I’ll be able to see everything,” he warns. “Every image you’ve seen.”
I think about that for a moment. I think of Emma in my arms as I carried her from the bath to the bed, and last night making love to her. I shake my head.
“Do it,” I close my eyes.
I place my hand on the receptor. I think of her face, of how soft her skin was against mine and her eyes. I hear her speak to me, as she tried to get me to stay. I feel a tear fall from my eye. I don’t care. It’ll be over soon. She will be gone.
My hand vibrates. I see an image of her. She’s crying. Smith is standing beside her. The vibration turns into an ache. More images fly through my head. I see her on the floor; she’s rubbing her hand. The ache turns into pain. More images, faster; I can’t focus. I try to see her, but they are all blurred together.
Then they slow. The pain is unbearable. I try to pull my hand away, but I can’t move. I see her; she’s standing in the forum. She looking at me; she looks frightened. The image vanishes. My hand is on fire, the vibration has spread from my hand to my body and now my head. All I see are streaks of color and light.
The images slow down again. The pain is excruciating. I see her. I can feel her against me. She is kissing me. I am kissing her. I don’t remember this, and then I realize; I see the memories that I had lost. I call out to her. The images vanish again. More pain, more vibration, and nausea.
Everything stops. I’m standing by a tree, and I can smell the Earth and apples. I look out into a field. There are rows and rows of corn. I have no idea where I am. Then I see her. She’s smiling at me. I walk up to her and pick her up into my arms, and we kiss. I hear her voice. She looks younger. Her hair is shorter than I remember.
“I love you,” I hear myself say.
“You’re going to be so far away,” her smile turns down. “I can’t imagine being without you,”
“I’ll sneak away, every chance I get,” I kiss her again. “I’ll find a way.”
“I’m afraid,” she looks right into my eyes.
“…of what”? I say.
“That you will forget me,” she says. “That you will go on and live without me.”
The image starts to speed up, and it blurs. I call out to her. I try to fight. I can’t move. The pain returns, and I can’t see anything. I think one last thought; I failed her. It all goes dark.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Emma
I look out the window as we arrive at Adam’s parent’s house. We stop at a gate at the end of the drive. Our driver talks to a man in uniform. The gate opens, and we enter. The yard is perfect, and the house is grand. We pull up to the front, and the driver gets out and opens the door for us. I take Adam’s hand as I exit. We are allowed to touch hands, now that we are officially engaged. Apparently if you’re a Benson, you can have anything expedited…including matching.
I’m uncomfortable. I keep going over in my head, what the man said to me earlier. If I don’t steal information from Adam’s father; they are going to kill Mandy. I can feel the data scanner against my skin. I hid it in my bra so that I wouldn’t lose it.
I think about Quinn. I know he made his choice, but I wonder if he would help me or if Max or Smith would be willing to come to my aid. But then I think of Pam; she’s so young and innocent. I need to do whatever it takes to keep her safe.
We enter the foyer and are met by a man in uniform. He takes my jacket and bag and then gestures for us to enter the room to our right.
“Your parents will be down shortly,” he says. He leaves the room.
I sit on a chair by the fireplace. Adam sits across from me.
He looks at me for a moment.
I fidget with my dress. I don’t look at him. I try to think of something to say to break the silence.
He gets up and kneels on the floor in front of me. He cradles my face in his hands, and he kisses me. I pull away. All I can think about is Quinn. I can’t help but feel like I am betraying him, even though he choice to leave.
“What’s wrong?’
“What if your parents come down?”
He pulls me close to him again. I try to turn my head, but he has my face held firmly. I give up and stop resisting. I’m already lost. After tonight, there will be no turning back for me.
As soon as I allow him, he stops. He sits back in the chair across from me.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I have a difficult time controlling myself around you.”
I think about what he said before I speak; his emotions must be heightened. Why would he risk it, or is he like me and something is wrong with him?
“It’s alright,” I lie. “We will be married soon enough.”
“I’m not sure I can wait,” he smiles at me. “You are breathtaking.”
I can feel my cheeks flush. I’m not use to compliments. My emotions are not as high as they were on graduation night, but I still have a difficult time keeping them concealed.
I look out the window. The sky is graying. It’s only September, but winter is coming fast. In a year, I will be preparing to be Mrs. Adam Benson. The clouds are far from the only things that are ominous in my life. I sigh.
Mrs. Benson enters the room. She is a tall blonde, with bright blue eyes. Everything about her is perfect, to the point of being unreal. She sits on the sofa, her back as straight as a rail.
Mr. Benson enters; he is a handsome man. Adam gets his looks from his father. He looks at me. He doesn’t smile. He makes eye contact, which is inappropriate.
Adam stands and shakes his father’s hand. He looks back at me, “this is Emma.”
“Miss Greene,” he says.
I stand, “nice to meet you.”
We all enter the dining room; where a huge feast is spread out. I sit quietly during dinner, as I am expected to do.
Gender is equal in the Federation, but I am an intern and from another component. It is in my best interest to remain silent until I am spoken to or asked a question.
“Emma,” Mrs. Benson says. “How is Political going for you?”
“It’s been an interesting week,” I say. “I’ve learned so much.”
“You seem pleased,” Mr. Benson says. “Perhaps, you will achieve Political as your occupation.”
“I would be pleased with Political but I’m striving for Education,” I say.
“She will be Education,” Adam interjects. “I have ensured her results.”
“I have no doubt,” Atticus replies. “I have seen her transcripts. She is impressive.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“A good choice for a partner,” Mrs. Benson says. “Our grandchildren will be spectacular.”
Adam’s face is turning red. He ignores his mother’s comments. He looks at me, and I give him a small smile. I feel sorry for him. My parents never spoke to me like they speak to him.
Dinner is long but delicious. I grew up in Agriculture, and we never ate as well and we reap food. After dinner, Adam goes off with his father and I am left with his mother.
“Emma,” she smiles at me, “the men are gone. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” I say.
“I remember my first week,” she says, “but, o
f course, that was years ago. It was difficult. Atticus and I were engaged, and all I wanted to do was to be done with it.”
“I’ve been so busy, studying and taking in all the sights,” I say, but I think…plotting to steal from you and your husband. “I haven’t had much time to think about the wedding.”
“You don’t need to study,” she says. “Adam and Atticus will ensure you receive an excellent placement. The test will be taken care of; you can enjoy your time. Learn the social ins and outs.”
“No, studying?” I repeat. “I can’t imagine. I’ve spent my whole life studying.”
“Take some time off to enjoy yourself.” She says. “You’ll never have to contribute.”
I think about her words and I wonder what happened to the perfect visualization of the Federation that I believed in all those years. I’ve only been an adult for a week, and I’ve learned that the Federation is far from perfect, and I’m going to have a difficult time fitting in.
We chat for a while until Adam returns. His mother leaves and we are alone again.
“Did she ask you a million questions?” he asks.
“No, it was pleasant,” I say. “She is very nice.”
“Good,” he says. “We have a long day tomorrow. It’s time to turn in.”
“Oh, okay,” I say. I want to protest, but his tone suggests that I just agree.
He walks me to my room. He opens the door and kisses my cheek. I walk inside. It’s a beautiful room. There is a balcony overlooking the back gardens. I walk over and look out. I hear a small click. I look back towards the door and stare. I wait a few seconds and then I walk over to the door. I try the handle’ it’s locked.
“Why would he lock me in?”
I can feel the panic rise from within me. I need to get out and complete my task, or they will kill Mandy. I go back to the balcony doors. I pull the handle down and push. The door opens. I step out and look over the rail. It’s a straight drop. There are no shrubs, no furniture, nothing to use to climb down.
My heart is racing. I sit on the bed and think. I cover my eyes with my hands. The tears are already rolling. I go into the bathroom and look out the window. There is a small roof below me. It is close enough that I think I can reach it. But how will I get into the house. When I entered the foyer earlier, I noticed a security panel next to the front door.