The Amnesia Experiment: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel

by Caroline Wei

  Amanda nodded, her eyes wild, like a deer caught in the headlights.

  “Clean up this mess. Then leave.” Carlen flicked her hand at Amanda, who immediately started wiping up the blood on the floor with her apron. I saw my opportunity for escape when she started scurrying towards the exit, opening the door.

  Cold fingers hooked me by my collar and hoisted me up into the air. I kicked my legs, terrified the queen would do to me what she did to Amanda.

  “Prince Oliver,” Carlen said in a dead voice.

  “I—I got lost,” I jibbered.

  “Indeed.” The door closed behind the maid, and I was trapped. To my surprise, Carlen dropped me onto the floor and opened the door for me.

  Mom was there, and I ran into her arms, shaking all over. Father was glaring at the queen.

  “He got left behind,” she said. “You really should keep a better eye on your child, Wilbur. I hope to see all of you soon, so we can further negotiate in spite of our disagreements.” Carlen caught my eye and smiled.

  As we departed, Mom fussing over me, I knew what that look meant. The queen did not have to say it out loud.

  If I told anyone what I saw, she would make World War III look like a birthday party.

  12

  ALLE

  Within a week, we’d gotten all the infected cured. It had happened with little missions, usually handled by Malchin and me, and sometimes Victoria, where we would dash out, quickly force feed a couple of crazies, and dash back in. As much as I thought it wouldn’t work, it did, and I was more than happy about it.

  We’d gotten more than one injury from the escapades, but the result was worth so many lives. Everyone was back out in the fresh air, drinking from the river, laying down on the grass—healing, recuperating, resting. It was more than I could ask for, and I felt a swell of contentment when I looked at them all. I cared about these people. Maybe too much.

  There were only three things that plagued my mind—Trial Three, daisies, and Victoria.

  First, Trial Three. It had already been a long time, and still there was no sign of the dreaded voice that announced the Trials. With each hour that passed, I grew more and more apprehensive. The next tragedy was sure to happen soon. It was a question of when, and I had no doubt it could be the very next minute. We had already been given too much time to enjoy the peace.

  To compound things, I had no idea what the next Trial would be. How many would die? Would it be painful, like the first Trial, with nowhere to run, or would it be horrific, like the second? Would it be both? And how would we prepare for it?

  Malchin had already gotten groups of people together to start weaving baskets and blankets out of the grass that grew inside the Cube, to try to make use of our resources. We’d also held a number of drills, where everyone would run towards the opening to the tunnels. Before, people were crazy and loud, but after a while it seemed likely we would be able to survive emergencies in an orderly fashion.

  The second thing was daisies. For long periods of time, I would sit with my back against one of the walls of the Cube, trying to think. I couldn’t figure out why I had been able to experience memories, even for a short amount of time, and been enabled to figure out daisies were the cure. Sure, Clarice mentioned it, but to have picked out the solution from everything else—it was incredulous, in hindsight. Even for me. Had the creators of the Cube given me a hint?

  If it was something from my past life, I wanted to cling onto it as tight as possible, and so I did.

  Victoria was something else. The last time we had something that counted as a conversation, she’d called me a nincompoop. And clearly, she still thought I was an impulsive child, because she never talked to me more than the compulsory ‘Hello’ or ‘Could you get that for me, please?’ Instead, she spent all her time with the sick, tending to their wounds, like she did in the tunnels. Sometimes she’d tell stories to the children, and other times I saw her in heavy conversation with Malchin, Galen or Adisa. She was a wise woman, and everyone knew it, so they’d accepted her as an advisor of sorts.

  Even though Victoria was giving me the cold shoulder, the happiness of the people gave me joy. After I figured out a cure, they all wanted to talk to me. More than once, someone thanked me for saving their friends, who had once been infected but were now healed. Malchin said they admired my determination.

  Galen had gotten a farm going, and as we sat eating lunch, I couldn’t help but think of ways to break out of the Cube.

  13

  Yale

  Prince Oliver stayed at the palace even after the Inaugural Ball. His mother went back to Caesitas to be with his sick father, but he remained with a handful of close guards.

  I knew that if Queen Carlen was here, she would want to meet with him. He was a young man, and his father had asked him to step onto the throne temporarily in his place, piling on all the responsibilities of a kingdom on the prince’s shoulders. The queen would see a weak spot, a crack in the wall, and try to make it bigger.

  The prince stayed in the guests’ quarters, and Mimi, the head cook, ordered me to bring coffee to him. It was the special brew that Mimi usually made for Queen Carlen—boiling hot and smelling of chocolate.

  I carried the tray up the staircase, but I took my time. Since Carlen left, the palace staff had relaxed just a little bit. We were now free to decide whether or not to put up our hair, or, for the guards, whether or not to hold a rifle the right way or the comfortable way.

  On my way to the prince’s chambers, I passed by the control room, where everything for the Amnesia Experiment was centered. There were heavy double doors blocking my path, but a small window allowed a little view. I peeked inside and saw blinking monitors and people walking back and forth, some talking and some holding glowing touch screens. A hologram was being projected at a table, where I could see a scatterplot with glowing red dots and a cube of streaming computer code. In a corner of the room, where a solemn, white-garbed guard stood, was a fenced-off section where something that resembled a podium stood. On it were five buttons, each representing a Trial. The first two buttons had turned green, symbolizing their initiation, but the last three were still red.

  I had gotten the chance to watch more of the Amnesia Experiment on live television in the maids’ rooms, and though it still sickened me, I had grown more used to it. The cameras were beginning to pick out the central players in what was called the Cube, and much of the specials being played were focused on either Alle or Malchin. It was near impossible not to watch the ones about Alle. I had to make sure she was okay.

  I resumed my journey down the hall, passing by oil paintings of stern-faced diplomats and national propaganda, as well as a gigantic Niveus flag accompanied by a multi-hued map of the world. A curly-haired maid who I recognized waved at me as she hurried past, holding a stack of books. There was also—

  My shoulder collided into a body, and I knew what would happen before it happened. The china cup on my tray flew out of its holder, the saucer with the cream pirouetting, as if in slow motion, towards the person I had bumped into.

  I was already mumbling apologies before the cups hit the ground, my head lowered until all I could see was a glass floor and a pair of loafers, etiquette drilled into me from years of serving the queen. Now I would be late to the prince even more than I already was.

  The saucer shattered on the floor, breaking into a million tinkling pieces. I winced and waited for the china cup, but it never came.

  Slowly, I raised my head and came face to face with Prince Oliver.

  He was tall, lean, and very drenched, his cerulean suit stained with dark coffee. It must have been stinging like crazy, judging from how hot it was. Hooked on his pinky finger was the handle of the china cup.

  For the present moment, I was speechless.

  “I’m sorry I got in your way,” he said politely, handing me the china cup, which I took with trembling hands.

  “It’s not—not a problem, sir.” In fact, I was the one who should h
ave been apologizing.

  “You were supposed to bring that to me, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What’s your name?”

  I adjusted the silver name tag on my maid’s uniform. “Yale Heinz.”

  “I’m Oliver Azure.” He reached out a hand like he was going to shake mine, but that was downright improper, so I remained still. His hand slowly dropped, and he rubbed the back of his head.

  “Right. Well. Don’t worry about the coffee. Could you direct me to the throne room?”

  Something I could do. “Yes, of course, your Highness. It’s down that way, just take a left and go down the stairs. Please excuse my clumsiness.”

  He only smiled at me and went on his way.

  I cleaned up the broken saucer and wiped what was left of the coffee off the floor. Alle used to tell me a lot about Prince Oliver, back when they were courting in secret. They couldn’t tell Carlen, of course, because she didn’t like the idea of not being able to control her own daughter.

  “I’m in love,” she told me once, when we were in the servants’ quarters. She was wearing a maid’s uniform, just like me, with the same Niveus snowflake embroidered on her chest. Alle used to pretend she was part of the palace staff so she could spend more time with me. More than once Carlen spent hours looking for her. “He’s so kind, Yale, and so true. When he touches my hand, even by accident”—her face would fade into daydreaming—“I get this feeling that I’m a kite racing the speed of light.” Alle would often show me the card games Oliver taught her, or she would hum a concerto that he had been listening to that day.

  I knew Prince Oliver was nice. I hadn’t necessarily been worried about him getting angry with me when I spilled coffee on him, but seeing his face brought back a lot of memories. He thought of me as a stranger, but I knew all about him.

  When the queen found out about Alle dressing up as a maid, Oliver had been there.

  “Why have you been shirking your duties by playing with them?” Carlen had asked. The way she referred to us maids made me feel like a dead bug on the bottom of her shoe.

  “They’re my friends, Mother,” Alle said, and that was true. All the maids loved her.

  “You are to call me Your Majesty,” Carlen snapped. “Nothing else.” She turned to Oliver, who looked like he wanted to comfort Alle but was afraid to touch her in front of the queen, who had no idea what was going on between them.

  “Prince Oliver, if you’ll excuse us.”

  It would seem suspicious if he insisted on staying, and he knew that. “Of course.”

  Alle watched him leave with growing fear in her eyes. She turned back to her mother. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

  “You should be.” The queen walked forward and grasped Alle’s chin so tightly I winced. “If you love being a dirty maid so much, then fine. I’ll let you be one. From now on, you’ll rise before the sun does and do all the chores the maids are assigned. You’ll wear an old uniform. You’ll eat their food. You’ll go to sleep past midnight. Every. Single. Day.”

  Alle swallowed.

  “If I find that you have violated any of these rules, I will cause you pain. The only exceptions are when you must appear for royalty.” She released Alle’s chin, and Alle immediately stumbled back.

  “As for you.” Carlen turned on me, her eyes full of fire. “Come with me.”

  “Mom, please—” Alle reeled as the queen slapped her across the face.

  “That’s not my name.”

  The queen dragged me to the palace dungeons, where she whipped me until I was almost dead. Alle had to sneak me out, and the next day we both had to serve as maids. Everyone knew what had happened, but no one dared to speak out. Who knew what Carlen would do?

  I think that was the first time I realized staying silent was wrong.

  14

  OLIVER

  The throne room had a vaulting ceiling, and all four sides of the room were made of thick, bulletproof glass, so that you could see outside to the sweeping, winter-themed gardens, but no one outside could get to you. I spotted multiple units of patrols in military uniform outside the palace walls, barking orders or interrogating civilians who looked even remotely suspicious. Beyond them was a horizon full of well-maintained government buildings and a couple of sky-rise apartments.

  The floor below me looked like it was made of ice, but I knew that wasn’t true. Carlen had a taste for aesthetics. A velvet rug led the way to the thrones—one for a king, and one for Carlen. It was a global mystery as to what happened to her husband, but everyone knew he was dead. Those two pieces of knowledge put together often made people fear the lone Niveus monarch.

  Since she was gone, her second-in-command was in the throne room, who also happened to be the head of the Amnesia Experiment. Her name was Adella Hernandez, and she sat at an iron table next to the queen’s unoccupied throne, her graying hair held up in a severe bun. Garbed in a silver two-piece business suit and several shining badges, she was tall and skinny, but her face was round and so were her eyes, making her look deceptively innocent.

  When I entered, she glanced up.

  “Your Highness, are you lost?” Her voice sounded like cotton candy left in a microwave too long.

  “No.” I strode across the room to her desk, but she never made a move to get up. “I’m here to speak with you.”

  Adella’s eyes slid to the side, like she didn’t want to look at me. “What can I do to help you, Prince Oliver?”

  I put my hand down on her desk, palm down. “I want you to end the Amnesia Experiment as soon as possible.”

  Adella looked taken aback for a bit, then shook her head. “Then that would be until the queen ends it. I’m afraid ‘as soon as possible’ means waiting until Trial Five is over.”

  “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You should be ashamed, following Carlen around like a puppy—”

  “That’s Queen Carlen to you—”

  “—and doing whatever she tells you to, including murdering a bunch of innocents! Did it ever cross your mind that the stolen people in your Complex had families? Friends? You leave a trail slippery with tears every time you start another Trial; this whole thing is causing so much unnecessary grief.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow your orders, prince.” Adella sniffed into her hand. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Absolutely not.” My face felt hot, and suddenly, it wasn’t just me and Adella in the throne room. Now, it was strung with colorful lights and banners, and there was a brown-skinned man sitting next to Carlen on the dais, laughing and clapping his hands.

  Little Alle was twirling on the floor in front of the thrones. She was maybe three years old, with her light brown hair in two pigtails, streaming with ribbons. I could see my younger self, slightly older than her at the time, standing off to the side with my parents, smiling. It had been Alle’s birthday, and the king and queen had invited all the countries’ royal families to come celebrate with them.

  Flashing forward, Alle became older—a teenager. The king’s throne turned empty, and Carlen’s face turned hard. I wanted to bring Alle roses, kiss her face, sing her love songs, but I never could, because Carlen was always there. I cursed myself afterwards for being such a coward. I should have told Alle I loved her before she disappeared into the Experiment, and now it was too late.

  Unless I could end it.

  I slammed a fist down hard onto the table, shaking Adella’s documents and pens. “If you do not shut down the Amnesia Experiment, I will refuse to offer any of Caesitas’ land for Niveus, ever. None. Maybe that will get your attention.” Caesitas was the only nation that, geographically, was even remotely close to Niveus, and it was probably the only one with enough land to serve Carlen’s interests.

  Adella’s eyes widened. “Sir, I’m sorry for my rudeness. Please reconsider your decisions, but I—well, we can’t—” she nibbled at her lip, searching for a way out. “The
Experiment is a vital process of determining whether or not Niveus’ heir is worthy, Your Highness. The Constitution explicitly states that it’s merely to test Princess Alle’s abilities, and we’re—”

  “It is not vital!” I roared. “This is the first time it’s ever happened in the history of the world, and it never happened with Carlen! Alle is the rightful heir by blood, not by ability.”

  Adella’s bony hands shook simultaneously to the rhythm of her pudgy chin. “I respectfully disagree with you, sir.” She pushed herself up, closing her eyes for a moment, and then opened them. “I understand you’re quite shaken over your father’s illness. You must be afraid of his death.”

  I was shocked into silence.

  “Please, Prince Oliver. The Amnesia Experiment must go on. The queen has decided it best for her country, and I promise you, she has the best intentions for you, and for Caesitas. Have patience.” She pushed me quickly towards the exit to the throne room. “Thank you so much for meeting with me.”

  Then she shut the door.

  It took a moment for me to recover, and when I did, I yelled and hit the doors with both fists.

  My beautiful Alle was being put in danger at every moment that I failed.

  15

  MALCHIN

  The sun was setting.

  You could see it sink into the waiting horizon, warm vermilion being swallowed by melting blue, bleeding out onto the sky in a blend of brilliantly-colored paint streaks. It set fire to Alle’s hair as she stood next to me, dishing out salad for the woman standing in front of her.

  Though we’ve had food to eat, we were rapidly running out of ideas. Today’s dinner was raw dandelion leaves, with the occasional white fluff stuck on the stems.