The Amnesia Experiment: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel

by Caroline Wei

  My lungs felt near bursting capacity. “What did you do?”

  “Tonight, you will kill Prince Malchin.” The words slammed into me like a boulder. “It will be your downfall.”

  Mother tilted her head at me, then swept out of the room like a breath of wind.

  51

  Yale

  Darts of anticipation danced in the soles of my feet, all up my legs, rushing into my head. I clutched a bag of makeup and towels, waiting in front of Alle’s bedroom door, the door that I was so familiar with. Two other maids waited with me, respectively holding a garment bag and a box of jewelry.

  Dr. Ironstrike, or Clarice, as I had come to know her through the Experiment, was the picture of a ghost. She wore a white lab coat, her hair loose around her shoulders, her pallor as pale as the moon. I was reminded jarringly of how young she was, and how quickly she had risen to prominence and the queen’s favor. She chewed on her colorless lip as she knocked, tentatively.

  “Come in,” Alle’s voice replied from within, leached, somehow, of the sunshine that used to be there.

  The door opened to Alle sitting on her bed, as pale as Clarice, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her eyes sparked with recognition as they landed on me, and my heart sped up.

  “Yale,” she said, then smiled, running and throwing her arms around me. “Long time no see.”

  I closed my eyes tight, breathing in her smell. “Do you really remember everything?”

  “Of course I do,” Alle replied, breathless. “Everything.”

  Emotion threatened to debilitate my system, and I waited for Clarice to say something about improper protocol, but she never did. Alle pulled away, her eyes glimmering with tears.

  “I hope you’ve been well,” she whispered, then turned to glare at Clarice. Fire simmered between them, but all of it was from Alle. “Get out of my room.”

  “I can’t,” Clarice said quietly. “I’ve been sent by the queen. We’re having a ball tonight and your presence is crucial.”

  “Do you think I care?” Alle’s voice was rising in volume. “I said get out!”

  “My lady,” Isabel, the other maid, said. “Dr. Ironstrike cannot leave this room without substantial consequences from Her Majesty.”

  “Why?” Alle asked. “Did she give her one of those diamonds too?”

  Though I’d seen it broadcasted online, the impact of it still hit me like a lightning bolt, and I wasn’t the only one. Clarice’s eyes looked like glass.

  “That’s irrelevant,” Clarice said, and I was sharply reminded of the camera in Alle’s room. “You need to get dressed. Please cooperate.”

  “Why are we having a ball?” Alle asked, still on the defensive. I put one hand on her clenched fist.

  “Please, Al,” I whispered, “this really must be done.”

  Alle relaxed enough to let us help her onto a stool, where we fitted her into the gown Queen Carlen had requested for today. Clarice was supposed to monitor the effects of Alle’s returned memory on her touch screen, but all she did was sit there as the other maids and I fixed Alle’s hair, did her makeup, and slid on her dancing shoes.

  “Would you like to see yourself, my lady?” Isabel asked when we were done with the final touches.

  Alle stepped down from the stool, her posture set like marble. “Sure. Why not.”

  Isabel helped her to the full-length mirror, where Alle was allowed to see herself for the first time in a long time. I knew there hadn’t been any mirrors in the Experiment, and I felt on the edge of tears.

  Alle was beautiful.

  Since young, she’d always been a lovely girl, but as she’d grown, Alle had become something otherworldly. Her skin was rough and darkened from her time in the Cube, dotted with new scars, contrasting against her soft honey eyes and thick lashes. Her long dark hair had been fashioned into loose whorls and petal patterns, giving off the illusion that her hair was made of roses. Her collarbone was bare but for a gold chain hung with a simple snowflake pendant, complementing her layered amber ball gown, which came in at her waist and exploded out onto the floor. Even from where I was standing, I could see the individual flecks of hazel and yellow and peach sparkling in the colors of her dress.

  But Alle only looked mournful, like she was staring at the outfit she’d be buried in.

  “I can’t do this,” she said so quietly I wondered if I’d imagined it.

  I didn’t know what Carlen had told her to do, but from the look on her face, it was something so heartbreaking to Alle it would probably destroy her. Suddenly, it was all I could do not to grab my best friend, jump out the window, and run as far as we could, away from all the trouble this palace held.

  But we couldn’t.

  Alle was meant to be queen. She had a purpose here.

  I pulled out something from the makeup bag, a special touch I had been saving. “Here,” I said, and draped the garland over Alle’s head. Milky pearls swathed in the gold strings caught the light, whispering on Alle’s forehead and making her look so royal I was tempted to curtsy right then and there.

  “Be brave,” I said, for Alle’s ears only. “Maybe this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for.”

  Alle’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked down.

  “That’s enough,” Clarice said, breaking the silence. “Yale, Isabel, Janissa, thank you for your assistance. Please leave me and Princess Alle alone for a couple minutes.”

  Alle didn’t even protest as we gathered our things. I was a little worried, but judging from the look on Clarice’s face, this was something that needed to be done.

  “Goodbye, my lady,” us three maids said in unison, curtsying.

  “Don’t ever bow to me again,” Alle said, and when she looked at us, she was kind, resigned. “We are the same, you and I.”

  I filed out with the rest of them, closing the door softly behind me.

  52

  Alle

  The first thing Clarice did was smash the camera with a chair.

  “We have to move fast,” she said hurriedly. “It won’t be long until Carlen sends guards up here to figure out what’s going on. You have to drink this.” She shoved a vial full of translucent golden liquid in my hand.

  “I’m not going to. The last time someone told me to consume something—”

  “Just shut up, Alle, can you do that? I’m trying to save you!” Clarice was wild, pulling something out of her bag. A pair of glass slippers. “Remember these?” she huffed. “You’re going to need them. I was on the council that developed the subjects’ signatures in the Amnesia Complex, originally meant to spice things up and increase viewer attendance, and yours are very special. Just look where you want to go, and boom, you’ll get there, okay? Those are there for you to outrun whoever tries to pursue you tonight, but don’t put them on until the time is right.”

  I stood there, staring at her.

  “DRINK THE VIAL!”

  “Why would I listen to you?” I shouted back. “You’re a murderer!”

  “That’s the antidote to Carlen’s diamonds! They make you do everything Carlen tells you to, as long as it’s a direct command. I would know!”

  “Right, because you’re one of her right-hand henchmen, and—”

  “Alle, do you want Malchin to die?”

  My words died in my throat, sputtering out like a faulty car engine.

  “That’s what I thought. I know what Carlen commanded you to do. You need to listen to me, Alle, please. This is the only way I know how to help you.”

  What did I have to lose?

  I uncorked the bottle and drank its contents, and it felt like something fell from my shoulders, flaking off like a second skin.

  “That’s only going to last you half a day, unless you eat another diamond, which overrides its effects,” Clarice said. “That means until midnight tonight, and then you’ll be forced to kill Malchin—”

  “Why does my mother want him dead?”

  “There’s no time to explain. Just
know that by midnight, your time will be up. That’s when you’ll put on your signature and run like there’s no tomorrow to the basement.”

  “The—”

  “Be quiet, Alle! Yes, there’s a basement in this palace. Take the elevator to the very first floor, and then look for the door in the library that requires a passcode. It’s 1314. Got that? 1314. Don’t forget. That’s where the chemists’ laboratories are, and that’s where you’ll find more of the antidotes. Not all of the queen’s chemists are loyal to her. They’ll help you find some way to escape so that Carlen doesn’t kill you. You have to become queen, Alle. You have to.”

  I reached out to grab Clarice’s hand. “Why are you helping me?”

  When she looked back at me, I didn’t see the face of a killer or even a traitor. She was the definition of a girl grown up too fast. I had my old memories of Clarice now. She wasn’t much older than me, but she was a prodigy in the sciences and an early graduate from Niveus’ most prestigious academy: Mother’s underling and the brains in a lot of technological developments, with never a moment to spare for herself.

  “Because I believe in you,” Clarice said, right as the door was kicked down.

  Mother stood upright in the doorway, full of regality, flanked by two intimidating guards clutching rifles, their faces shielded with silver masks.

  “Oh good,” she said, clapping her hands like she was at a festival. “You’re ready. Dr. Ironstrike, what took so long?”

  “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, it appears we had a little accident with the camera. I’ll have the maintenance team get it fixed immediately.” Clarice nudged the glass slippers toward me with her foot, her long lab coat preventing Mother from seeing anything.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Mother said as I sat down on the bed as casually as I could. Surprisingly, there were pockets in the ballgown. I reached down like I was stretching and grabbed the slippers, sliding them into the dress. “You do know what happened to Adella Hernandez, don’t you?”

  “Only a just punishment, my queen.”

  “Save the flattery for your trial, Dr. Ironstrike. Guards?” Mother waved a hand, and in an instant, Clarice was in shackles.

  “Mother, what are you doing?” I made the mistake of touching her arm, and she promptly turned around to slap me. My face stung for a full minute.

  “Do not think you can tell me what to do,” she said sharply. “We are going to have a splendid time tonight, my dear. All the leaders of the world are in attendance to celebrate the end of the Experiment. They think it’s the start of a new era.” Mother leaned in close until I could see the flecks in her eyes. “And it will be the start of a new era.”

  ~.~.~.~.~

  The hallways were sleek and white, just like I remembered. The air smelled of disinfectant, and Mother’s heels clicked against the floor as we walked. She had changed into a gown fitting for a queen, her makeup immaculate, her grip on my arm as tight as a chain.

  Memories of every nook and cranny seemed to bombard me from every angle as we passed by a painting that Yale and I had laughed at, or a tapestry that Oliver’s family had given us for one Christmas, or a staircase I had tripped on. The sounds of a grand orchestra and chattering were growing louder and louder as we made our way to the main ballroom. Unease squished in my heart. It was evening now, and Mother would start getting suspicious as to why I hadn’t tried hurting Malchin. The weight of the glass slippers in the dress seemed to pull me down with each step I took.

  We finally stopped in front of a set of double brocade doors. Merriment echoed from within, stabbing at my every fiber. Why couldn’t I have this? A moment’s reprieve, a time where I could just dance and eat and laugh with those I loved?

  There was no way I would let myself harm Malchin in any way. I would rather throw myself off a parapet.

  “Are you ready, my dear?” Mother asked, not looking at me.

  I felt empty.

  “When’s the next Recordati?” I asked.

  Mother’s hand tightened on my arm. “How dare you.”

  “If you hold one every year to commemorate Dad’s death, you’ll have to hold another one to commemorate mine,” I said quietly. “You seem set on destroying everyone in your life.”

  Then I pushed open the doors.

  I was surprised to find myself on a balcony, high above the crowd. I had expected to walk directly onto the dance floor, but now I was standing in the middle of a room that had suddenly fallen into a hush.

  I couldn’t help looking for them. Yale was in a corner, holding a tray of champagne glasses, smiling at me. Not very far from her was a tall, brown-haired young man in a blue suit whom I recognized immediately as Oliver. Our eyes locked for a while until I tore my gaze away and found Malchin, who was leaning against the orchestra’s grand piano. His expression was something I couldn’t decipher, but my stomach felt like it would be vaporized.

  Ria, Maria, and Adisa were standing together, looking highly uncomfortable but rather joyous. I couldn’t blame them. After all, they thought it was all over and done with, and I envied them for it. I watched as Ria savored her first taste of cake.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” boomed a voice from an unseen speaker. “Finally, after such a long departure, reintroducing: Her Highness, Princess Alle Frost of Niveus!”

  Unexpectedly, the whole room started clapping and cheering, but I couldn’t bring myself to even return a smile. Malchin was in danger, and if I couldn’t pull off an escape, he would die.

  I made my way down the stairs, and before I’d even made it to the last step, Oliver was there.

  “Alle,” he said softly, and held out a gloved hand. I took it. “How are you?”

  “As fine as I can be,” I replied. My throat felt heavy laden with tears.

  Oliver seemed to understand, and his expression softened.

  “You’ve gone through so much, I can’t imagine why your mom would make you—well, actually, I can imagine.” Something bitter passed through his eyes. “I’m just glad you’re back, and safe. I was so worried the entire time you were gone.”

  Love for him made my heart feel like a sinking ship, but the love had changed from what I remembered. We weren’t children anymore—we had grown into different adults. I squeezed my friend’s hand.

  “Thank you, Ollie, for always standing by me. I’ve missed you.”

  With a sudden urgency I wasn’t expecting, Oliver spun me around to face him, his nose centimeters from mine. I was faintly aware of the sounds of the orchestra, of murmuring people and clinking glasses.

  “Do you still love me?” he asked roughly.

  All speech left me.

  “Alle, please, I need to know.”

  I looked down at Oliver’s polished blue shoes, the laces adorned with a flowery version of Caesitas’ emblem, the droplet. They were small and fat, royal blue and clearly encrusted with some kind of gem. They were so cute, I almost laughed.

  I met his eyes again, the eyes of a boy I had known for so long, the eyes of a boy I had shared my pain, my bewilderment, my childhood with. My head swam with heavy memories, too many to count, all the little things I remembered about him; I stood there while they traveled to my eyes and turned into salt and water.

  “I will always love you, Oliver,” I said, clutching his hands. “But not in the way you want me to. We’re both so different now. You and I could never, ever be the same again, and maybe that’s not such a bad thing after all.” My heart was pummeling my ribs, and I congratulated myself on holding eye contact the entire time. Time took a deep breath, and then Oliver seemed to be releasing something from himself as he exhaled quietly.

  “I understand,” he said, his voice tender. Then he pulled me in for a hug, his hands warm on my back. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

  I hadn’t realized that no one had hugged me for a very long time.

  The orchestra began a slow waltz, powdered bow hair sighing against crystal string. All my other troubles seemed to fade away as I rec
ognized the tune. Oliver did too.

  “Care to dance?” he asked, bowing before me.

  I curtsied. “I couldn’t dance to this song with anyone else,” I said.

  The lights dimmed and for a moment I forgot about Mother and her evil scheming, I forgot about the Amnesia Experiment, I forgot that everyone was staring and trying not to look like they were staring. The dance floor cleared for Oliver, one of my closest friends, and I, as the notes of Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat Major whirled over our heads.

  My skirts kissed the ground as we spun, Oliver ever the gentleman. We were soft as dandelions falling to the ground, ever in motion, caught in a capsule of time, frozen in quiet splendor. A soaring gold ceiling painted with Renaissance-like artwork revolved above us, the ground sparkling with gold designs. Colors swiveled through my vision, displaying the deep royal blue skirts of a lady or the mahogany coattails of a nobleman.

  The orchestra finished the piece all too soon, and Oliver twirled me to the edge of the dance floor. I didn’t realize Malchin was standing there until Oliver gently placed my hand in his. I looked up, startled.

  “It was a pleasure,” Oliver said, dipping his head, and there was a resigned finality to his tone.

  “No,” I said. “The pleasure was all mine, Ollie.”

  His gaze came up briefly to catch mine, and then he smiled and it was just me and Malchin.

  Another tune started up, another piece from Chopin. Malchin looked sarcastic, an expression I didn’t recognize on him.

  “Well? Will the princess grace me with her presence?”

  I laughed uncertainly. “Of course I will, Malchin, you know that I always would.”

  We started dancing again, and I was surprised at how easily our steps and the swaying of our bodies matched each other.

  “You don’t have to pretend with me,” Malchin said, his face pinched. “You’re choosing him, aren’t you? I can tell. You remembered everything, and now your history with him can’t even begin to compare to ours.”

  My mouth opened a little from shock, and then a bubble of laughter burst from my lips. Malchin looked incredulously at me.