by Adara Quick
Deirdre heard a pause in the conversation. Then Sean continued, “Siobhan, I don’t know what I’m going to do without you after your descent. How can I give our girls what they need from their mother once you are gone?”
With softness in her voice, Siobhan replied, “You just love them in a different way. They need that, too. Maybe now more than ever. Poor Maeve, she should never have tried to run; it only made it worse for her.”
When the conversation turned to her mother’s descent, Deirdre stopped listening. She didn’t want to think about what life would be like without Siobhan. Or how she and Breck would manage their father alone. Or how she and Breck would manage each other.
Breck came into the bedroom. She had a pouty look on her face and put one hand on her hip. Standing in the center of the room, she flicked her hair back and said, “Deirdre, why do you always have to go against Father? All you do is make trouble.”
Deirdre replied, “Breck, I’m tired, and I need to holo Flynn before dream. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”
“No, Deirdre. We need to talk about it now. You’re months away from Selection and for me it’s a year and a half. Before you know it, we’re going to be asked to serve the Ministry. Like adults. And when you talk about how screwed up the Ministry is, you’re saying the same thing about Ma and Da. Because they are Dream Makers.”
Deirdre retorted, “Alright Breck, since you know so much: what is the Ministry doing to help us? Why is the threat of Dream Justice on everyone’s minds, every day?”
“Well, it’s obvious. They give us clothing, food, a place to live, and dreams of beautiful people and places. And in return, we work to keep the city going. What’s so terrible about that? People shouldn’t break the rules, Dee. Including you.”
“Breck, we work after Selection because we don’t have a choice. That’s not work, that’s slavery. Don’t you want to choose for yourself?”
“Fine then,” said Breck. “If you want to keep bringing bad things on yourself, that’s your choice. But don’t drag me, Da, and Ma into it. I’m going to be a Dream Match girl, so don’t screw it up for me.”
“Breck, Ma and Da are never going to let you audition with Dream Match Administration. They may be Dream Makers but you must have noticed the looks on their faces every time you bring it up. Besides, at 14 and a half, you’re too old. You have to be 13 or younger. You’d better plan on going through Selection, like everyone else. And now, I’m calling Flynn, ok? Goodnight.”
“Fine. Goodnight,” Breck said as she climbed into the lower bunk. “But I’m going to figure out a way to audition. I’m perfect for it. The administrators want talent. You wait and see.”
Deirdre sighed. She just didn’t feel like arguing anymore, so she set up the holo call to Flynn. Using the ticker message feature of her wristband, Deirdre sent her personal holo room code number to him. When he received the scrolling message as a digital readout across his own wristband, he would use it to dial into the same room as her.
While she waited for the holo room to configure, she thought about the first time she had met Flynn. Of course she had seen him around school and in passing. The city wasn’t that big of a place, after all. And she had wondered after the boy who kept his face hidden, except for his blue-green eyes. But they had never really spoken until the day Deirdre needed something to really annoy her father.
It was first thing in the morning on a school day, and Sean Callaghan was personally escorting her to school because she had cut class the day before. Only half-listening to her father’s lecture, she saw three people arguing in the corridor up ahead. One of them was Flynn. When they were close enough, Deirdre heard accusations flying from the mouth of the Block Manager about Flynn’s age.
Deirdre stopped, turned on her father, and said, “School is worthless. I already know how to do all of that stuff. So why should I have to go?” In the pause that came next, she heard Flynn’s mother declare that he was only 13.
Sean replied, “You have to go because everyone your age goes. And because when you don’t, I get called away from the Academy to deal with you.” Deirdre glanced toward Flynn again, now they were only standing a few feet apart. He was looking her way too. Their eyes locked together for a moment and she thought that he smiled at her from under his cloak. Both of them under fire from adults who just didn’t understand – the connection was instant.
Then the Block Manager noticed the Maker and his daughter standing so near. He called out, “Maker. The name’s Burk. Blimey, that is. This woman has hidden her son from Selection and I request that you witness his birth record.”
Sean said, “Very well. Be quick with it.”
The woman turned to a data access panel in the wall and pulled up her son’s birth record. Sean leaned in closer to examine the projection of the file on the archive. He said, “The archive confirms that the boy is only 13. There has been no violation of the rule of Selection.”
Burk became angry and turned red in the face. “I’m telling you the boy looks ruined.” Then he grabbed for Flynn and pulled the cloak away from his face. Deirdre blinked. Flynn did look much older than his years; she could see the stubble on his face growing in from a recent shave. Sean was just as stunned. Flynn pulled away from the Block Manager and pulled his cloak back up around his face.
Deirdre saw her opportunity. She reached out and grabbed Flynn’s hand. Then she turned back to her father and said, “Thanks for helping him, Da. He is my boyfriend, after all.” Then she pulled Flynn along and the two of them began walking toward the lift that would take them up to the school section.
Flynn hissed, “What are you talking about?”
Deirdre whispered back, “Just go along with it. I’ll explain later.”
The three adults watched them walk away and for a moment, no one knew what to say. Then the Block Manager pointed to Sean and said, “Ruined, I say. And your daughter is sweet on him.”
Sean turned a hard stare on Burk as he pulled the hood of his Maker robe up around his head. “The archive has confirmed his birth. You will say nothing about this or answer to me.” Then he turned and strode off in the opposite direction, his angry footfalls echoing a victory for Deirdre.
The last thing Deirdre remembered was leaning into Flynn to say, “Told you to trust me.” A chance event, and the two of them had been inseparable ever since.
Still lying in her cot, Deirdre pulled away from her memories and prepared for her call. She placed her cloud access port into her ear. Arachnoids were not implanted until Selection, so until then, they used wireless earbud devices to access the cloud. Ready for the call, Deirdre closed her eyes and accessed. There was always a rushing feeling when dialing into a holo room. It felt like falling up toward the sky, going faster and faster until the very end. Then, just when you couldn’t stand it anymore, you opened your eyes in the holo room.
The default venue for holo calls was an empty white room where virtual images of the participants interacted. In Skellig City everyone went into dream alone, but the holo rooms were where you could interact with someone else. In fact, you could imagine any version of yourself that you wanted. The kids liked to get creative with their avatars.
Deirdre opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling to confirm the code for the room. Then she sat down to wait. She had dressed herself in a blue patchwork shirt, leggings, and brown ankle boots. The wave and length were gone out of her hair; she’d given herself a short asymmetrical bob. Deirdre’s room immediately sized itself down to an 8x10 foot room for two participants. No need to waste extra cloud resources managing a room size that the participants didn’t need. She could hear murmurs from other holo rooms adjoining hers, but the privacy settings prevented her from making out the words. The Ministry, however, could listen in on any call, and that really limited what they could talk about.
Suddenly, Flynn popped into the room, facing the opposite wall. Deirdre teased, “Don’t look now, there’s a Dream Drone on your six!” Are we just friends
, or more? Being with him is so disarming.
Flynn whizzed around and radiated a smile at her that was sunlight. He replied, “No fair! You got here first.”
Deirdre was struck by how different his holo image looked from his real self. In case anyone from the Ministry was watching, Flynn imagined himself with a boyish face instead of the aging face that was his in real life. He kept his basic features: a wiry, athletic look. But in the holo room, it was like the layer of aging had been peeled away, showing Flynn as a regular teenage boy. Projected into the cloud, he carried himself like a professional dancer and moved almost like he was weightless. Seeing what she was wearing, he snapped his fingers and his grey clothing changed to matching blue pants and a patchwork tee shirt.
Deirdre saw his outfit and smirked. “Funny.”
He smiled back mischievously.
Sobering quickly she said, “Flynn. What just happened at the ritual? You have to be more careful...you know you do.”
“You’re right. Seriously, I am trying to stay hidden. But with Maeve...I just wanted to be there for you, no matter what.”
Deirdre said, “Thank you. You know I appreciate it. I just...I just don’t want to lose anyone else.”
Flynn brushed his light, curling hair out of his eyes. It fell well below his ears but not quite to the shoulders in this virtual world. He asked, “Alright. It’s a deal. I won’t get lost. Honestly, Dee, how are you?”
Deirdre slumped to the floor of the room. “Bad. Whenever I needed to get away from Da for a while, Maeve would let me visit her. Now she’s gone. I knew it was going to happen. But seeing her in the cylinder...I just wasn’t prepared for it.”
Flynn sat down next to her and wrapped his arms around his knees. “She was a Dream Maker, wasn’t she?”
“Oh yes. She was one of the top Makers at the Academy for imagining texture. She taught me to notice it – really see it, all around us. It was our game; she would ask me what I saw and I would name something. Then she would ask me to look again and see something deeper. We kept playing until I could describe the tiniest details; things I had never noticed before. Once when we were playing, I thought I could make out the distortions in the air from the ventilation system. Kind of weird. But she said that was how you make a dream, by imagining the “all of it” and letting the Sequencer record it. I don’t really know why she spent so much time with me, because I told her I didn’t want to be a Maker. Anyway. Now, I’ll never see her again.”
Flynn placed his hand on his chest. “Dee, as long as she is in your heart, she’s still with you. Besides, she is safe now. Wherever not-here happens to be, it’s got to be a better place than this.” Flynn paused and seemed to look inward. “Imagine it! Far to the west, beyond all land and water we know, is the Land of Youth, where the spirits of our people have been going since before there was writing. It’s beautiful there, the land filled with color, and no one gets old or sick. The spirits there age backwards. There is no decay, no boredom, and the honey drips from the forest trees. No Nutripaks in Tír na nÓg!”
“You really believe in that place, Flynn?”
“It might be true,” he replied and dropped his hand. “C’mere. You will see Maeve again. I know it down to me knickers.”
“Knickers, huh?” Deirdre teased, suddenly feeling a little lighter.
With a sparkle in his eye, Flynn said, “Lass, I knew thinking about me knickers would bring a smile to your face.”
Deirdre smiled in spite of herself. “Thanks, Flynn. But you’re a rascal.” And a cute one.
He replied, “Sure am. Ask anybody.” After a pause he asked, “Have you thought any more about Blue Sky?”
“Are you crazy? ‘Course I have. I just don’t see the way through to it.” Operation Blue Sky: our plan to get to the surface. Topside. Except all the access points are guarded, with no one getting through unless you’re permitted access to the Academy or working for Dream Justice.
He said, “We’ll find it. Anyway, what are you dreaming tonight?”
Deirdre looked at the virtual time display on the wall of the room. She answered, “Ma has a new sequence called Red Oak that she wants me to try.”
Flynn looked interested and said, “Smashed. Ask her if I can test it too.”
Deirdre nodded. “Def. Well, got to go. Walk with me and Antrim to school tomorrow?” Suddenly she felt like the concrete walls of the city weren’t closing so tightly around her.
“Sure. Dee, can I ask you something before you go?”
“What is it?”
Flynn lowered his eyes and studied the floor. He said, “You’re not spending time with me just to make your parents mad. Are you?”
Deirdre’s head snapped up. She said, “Of course not. Why would you say that?”
“Um. Well, you know that’s how we met. Never mind. It was stupid.”
Her voice softened and she said, “Flynn. That was the old me. I spend time with you because I like spending time with you. Not because of anything else. Everything in this city is fake. The people, the dreams, all of it. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what’s real. But not you. You’re genuine all the way through. And I feel more real when I’m with you.”
Then virtual Flynn reached out and squeezed her hand. “Alright. Thanks. I’ll meet you tomorrow on Level 25 at the intersection of P and Q.” Then with a racing heart, he disconnected from the call before he said anything to spoil it.
Back in his own living unit, Flynn touched the cloud access port in his ear and ended his holo call. He checked his wristband to see how long he had been in session; it read, “Holo call. Deirdre Callaghan. 7 minutes.” Then he looked up from the couch to find his mother staring at him intently.
Clare said, “Finally, you’re back. We have to talk about this again.”
Flynn made a dramatic exhale and heaved himself up off the couch. He took one glance at his mother and stalked off to the bathroom. “Talk away, but I’m not listening.”
Clare Brennan followed close behind him, taking small quick steps and wringing her hands. She said, “When your cloak fell at the ritual, I saw the Medical Director looking at you. You were seen, Flynn. We can’t go on like this. It’s too dangerous for you.”
Flynn made it to the bathroom first and closed the door in her face. Clare placed one hand on the door and leaned her face into the crack to speak. Her voice trembled and she said, “Son, I just think that maybe it’s time to tell the truth. The Medical Director saw your condition today.”
From within the bathroom he said, “It was an accident, alright? I didn’t plan to be seen.”
Clare begged, “We need to go to him and plead for mercy about what we kept hidden. If we don’t go to them now, it will be too late. Maybe he will help you. The last one wanted to help you, remember?”
In the small bathroom, Flynn planted both elbows on the sink and rested his head in his hands, his tense fingers knotting themselves in his short hair. He spoke again to his mother, biting off each word to keep himself from yelling at her. “Oh, the Ministry provides, is that what you believe? I know he saw me. And I saw him too. The way he studied me. If I reveal myself to that Medical Director it will be nothing but experiments.”
Clare said, “The Ministry will forgive us for what we have kept hidden if we go to them willingly. I’m sure of it.”
“Let me tell you what going to them will be like for me: ‘Take this pill, but watch out for side effects including eyeballs falling out of your head, tooth itching, growing an extra toe, and spontaneous combustion.’ And that’s if things go well for me. You know...if they LIKE me and all.”
In a pleading tone she said, “They could stop this disease, or maybe even reverse it. Don’t you want to be like everyone else?”
“For Makers’ sake,” Flynn yelled. “Volunteering myself will do nothing to change their reaction. I don’t trust them. And I don’t understand why you do. This is how I am. Just let me be.”
Clare started to cry and speaking again was difficu
lt. “But sweetheart, what if they can make you better? It’s been years since you were evaluated. Maybe they can offer you something. We have to try.”
“Ma, you know what Dr. O’Boyle said when I was young. ‘The Ministry will never tolerate someone like you. The ruined are hated and you will be treated as one of them. Banishment.’ Is that what you want for me? Why do I have to be the one to remind you?”
Flynn’s patience was worn through. He looked at his face in the mirror, noticing the fine lines around his jaw and the stubble of a full beard that marked him no matter how often he shaved. Whenever he saw himself, he saw what everyone in Skellig City feared most of all – getting old. He rubbed his aching knee. Last week, his shoulders had started to hurt too. None of it was fair. In a whisper to himself he said, “Why are you spending time with me, Dee? I’m sick. And hideous by most everyone’s standards. And you. You’re so beautiful and smart and brave. Just about perfect in every way. You could have any boy you want after Selection. Maybe you just feel sorry for me after all.”
He clenched his left fist and punched the looking glass over the sink. The mirror cracked, and blood began to well up across his knuckles where the shards had cut in. He yelled, “No more doctors for the rest of my life, Ma. It’s my secret, and I’m going to keep it.”
Clare said, “But I want to try. For you.”
Exasperated, Flynn put his hands over his eyes. Some blood got on his face. In a quiet voice that was more alarming than any yelling would have been, he stated, “Ma, is it that I need to try or that you need me to? I’m always going to be a freak. I’m always going to have to hide. Maybe you should start accepting it.”
With that, Clare cried the harder. Flynn could tolerate hiding and the fear of getting caught. But for him, the worst thing of all was pity. He was truly unprotected from pity. So he opened the bathroom door and brushed his mother aside.