Disobedience

by Kaitlyn Andersen

  Finn’s gaze shot over to the Solidarian automatically. She found him already watching her intently, his face giving nothing away as to the thoughts swirling underneath.

  “Is that why you helped us?” she asked him quietly.

  The big man’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

  “All of that emotion won’t serve you well if you wish to accomplish your goals.”

  Finn’s head followed the direction of the unfamiliar voice to find Gray Matter watching her intently. His back rested casually against the glass of his cell, giving the illusion of a man without a care in the world, but Finn could see the intelligence behind his gray eyes as he studied her.

  “The Solidarian helped you because I told him you were genuine in your desire to save us,” the small ashen hybrid revealed. “He also saw it for himself in the Dome, as we all did. I’ve been waiting for someone like you to arrive.”

  It didn’t escape Finn’s notice that the rest of the room had fallen silent as they all listened intently to Gray Matter’s soft voice.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked the strange hybrid.

  “I know I might not look it”—he waved slender hands toward his cone-shaped head for emphasis—“but I was born with a unique gift. Some might call it foresight. I simply see it as the ability to gather the sensory data around me and predict the most probable outcome.”

  She supposed that explained why he’d done so well navigating the Dome’s obstacles.

  “Good for you. What does that have to do with us?” AJ asked sharply.

  Gray Matter shifted slightly in his cell.

  “Given my gifts, it is highly improbable that I would allow myself to be captured by Reliance soldiers and thrown into certain death, don’t you think? Unless of course I wanted to.”

  Wait, what?

  Finn couldn’t imagine that anyone in their right mind would willingly participate in the Dome’s games. Maybe Gray Matter was insane, it would certainly explain a lot.

  “Are you saying you got yourself caught on purpose?” Finn asked in disbelief. “Because of me?”

  “There is an undercurrent of change in the air. I can perhaps feel it better than most. The Disobedience is rising again and this time they will not be so easily defeated. I couldn’t predict who I would find within this Dome, but I knew someone here would lead me to them.”

  The Disobedience?

  “The Disobedience were wiped out when they lost the war against the Reliance and their Arcturians centuries ago. How could they be rising again?” Finn asked.

  The Reliance had placed the survivors into the lowest castes and shipped them to the Outer Rings as a way to keep them and their offspring locked in poverty and servitude.

  “Wait, you got yourself caught so you could be a part of some nonexistent resistance?” Viper snickered, interrupting. “I’ve been with the Reliance my entire life and they are stronger than ever. They made me for the Gods’ sakes. If there was ever any danger of overthrowing them, I would know it.”

  Gray Matter ignored her snide comments, addressing the room as his spherical eyes held Finn’s.

  “If the Reliance knew what the Disobedience had up their sleeves, they would be quaking in their gold-plated boots.”

  Instantaneous fear gripped Finn in a cold vise. Did he know about Tiri?

  It seemed impossible, but as she continued to hold his sharp gaze, her heart pounded.

  Gray Matter seemed to sense her disquiet.

  “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’m on your side.”

  She didn’t know what to believe anymore. If this strange-looking hybrid could be believed, he’d gotten himself captured and placed in the Dome just for a chance to get close to the crew of Independence. She knew Grim had some kind of grand plan for the hybrids—an endgame for the mess he’d made of her life and everyone else’s—but did he really think he could overthrow the Reliance?

  Had he been putting together a new generation of disobedients right under her nose? None of it would matter if he’d been caught along with the others.

  “And what about you,” Finn asked the Solidarian. “Are you on our side?”

  She didn’t expect an answer from the typically silent hybrid. He surprised them all when his low, gruff voice uttered, “What’s the worst that could happen? The Reliance decides to finally put me down? I’ve been waiting fifteen cycles for that. The brain says you might have a way to make those scum-suckers pay. I’ll hitch my ship to yours if it means I get revenge.”

  As she’d thought earlier, the detached man in front of her with his red-tinged eyes hardly resembled the boy she’d glimpsed crying into the wind as tears streamed down his face. She supposed no one would be the same after all he’d been through.

  Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to his motivations than vengeance. She thought she’d glimpsed something more from him in the Dome, but given how wrong she’d been about so many things lately, she was starting to doubt herself.

  She understood his desire for revenge in a way many others probably couldn’t. She also knew how dangerous that desire made him. The good news, the thing that kept her holding on, was the fact that, at least for now, he was on their side.

  An alarm sounded within the room and a door buzzed open as several armed Reliance soldiers ushered a small group of spectators inside. Men and women dressed in ostentatious garb spanning the spectrum of red and gold regarded the menagerie of imprisoned hybrids on display with wicked smiles of delight.

  The soldiers spread out to take their places next to the cells while the gawking spectators milled about, pointing and speaking to one another in hushed tones.

  Two large groups in various stages of inebriation gathered around to admire Supersonic and Viper respectively.

  “Did you see how fast she was out there?” one of them exclaimed to the group. “Imagine all the housework she could get done in the span of a few hours.”

  Another one pointed at Viper.

  “There’s the one the Arcturians created in their lab. I can’t decide what I could possibly need a poisonous half-breed for, but it would make for an interesting talking point at parties.”

  “I guarantee you you’d never have to worry about someone stealing the flatware with her around,” the man next to her remarked.

  While most of them ignored Rock, Gray Matter, and AJ, a group of ten or so had begun to gather several feet away from the Solidarian’s cell, peering inside with equal parts fear and elation. A gaggle of women with gold-dusted skin, feathered hats, and matching capes dared to draw closer. They giggled crudely as they pointed, stared, and murmured to one another.

  The Solidarian took it all in stride, ignoring the hullabaloo as though it happened every day.

  Based on what she’d seen so far, it probably did.

  “Disgusting,” Finn muttered under her breath. Her comment drew a nearby soldier’s attention and he tapped the glass of her cell with his stunner glove.

  “Shut up and behave,” he ordered.

  Before Finn could so much as shoot him a defiant glare, an overexuberant voice called out to them.

  “How much for the little one?”

  The slurred question turned the soldier’s attention away from Finn and toward an odd-looking man standing next to Carrow’s cell. Instantly, she recognized his unique baritone as that of the games’ announcer.

  He was relatively small in stature, perhaps a few inches shorter than Finn, with petite features. A sparkling cherry-red top hat covered his bald head. His face sported full glittery golden cheeks and thick, spiky lashes framing bright purple eyes too vivid to be his natural shade. His stare was glassy, and he seemed to be swaying imperceptibly, indicating he was one of the many in the group who had perhaps imbibed a bit too much following the games.

  His lips were shiny and golden with gaudy amounts of glitter, causing them to sparkle in the artificial lights. The same treatment had been applied to his eyelids and cheekbones. He wore a fo
rmfitting three-piece suit of red and gold plaid and a round gold watch hung from a chain tucked into his pocket.

  He was so peculiar, it took a moment for his words to sink in. When they did, Finn jumped to her feet.

  “She’s not for sale.”

  The odd-looking announcer let out a drunken belch, followed closely by a hiccup that shook his entire body.

  “My dear”—he lurched closer to her on unsteady feet—“everything is for sale.”

  “I won’t tell you again. Keep your mouth shut, mutt!” The soldier hit the glass of Finn’s cell with extra force, and he shot her a deadly glare before turning to the announcer. “For you, Mr. Green? The Dome will accept two pounds,” he told the man.

  Mr. Green rose to his tiptoes and let loose a drunken whistle.

  “Two pounds of gold? Gods alive, what are the worlds coming to?” The soldier merely shrugged and continued to hold his stare. “Oh, all right, have it your way. I’ll take her.”

  “No!” Finn yelled and slammed her hands against the glass. Some of the onlookers began to turn away from their studious ogling of the other hybrids at the sound of Finn’s cry. At her distress, the Solidarian stood abruptly to his full height in his cell, earning gasps of trepidation from his fans.

  “Now, don’t go making a scene, dear.” Mr. Green shot her a stern look of reprimand followed by another hiccup. The soldier nearest to Finn nodded to the others and they made their way to Carrow’s cell. A low hissing sounded, and the cell walls sealed as it began to fill with gas.

  “Finn?” Carrow coughed and struggled blindly, but her eyes and hands were bound, making her efforts useless. “Finn, what’s happening?”

  “Leave her alone!” Finn screamed and battered her body against the glass to no avail.

  The soldiers ignored her, entering the child’s cell to remove her limp, unconscious body. The rest of the onlookers scowled at Finn as though she were spoiling their fun and returned to their observations of the caged hybrids.

  As the soldiers carried the tiny, unconscious girl away, Mr. Green swayed and tripped over his gold shoes. He fell against Finn’s cell, the palm of his left hand slapping against it with a loud thunk.

  Finn was so disgusted with his drunken display that it took a moment before she saw the small piece of paper smashed between his palm and her cell. As she watched in surprise, Mr. Green’s hand pushed straight through the glass. It was as though the solid material had become liquid, allowing his appendage to slip through the space like one might dip a toe in water. It did so without a sound, without even the tiniest crack.

  She blinked once, then twice, to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.

  Mr. Green’s hand released the paper in front of Finn and she managed to cover it with her foot when it floated down to the ground. The bizarre man then pulled his hand back through her cell as if nothing had happened. Finn studied the spot where it had just been and found no abnormalities or deformities in the glass.

  Mr. Green nodded curtly for her to read the paper.

  She moved her foot slightly, her dumbfounded stare falling to the scrap as she did.

  On it, written in delicate lettering, she read:

  The Disobedience is coming.

  Finn’s gaze flew up to the sozzled man to find his dazed eyes had cleared; an awareness and intelligent light filled them as the inebriation left his expression completely.

  “Hold fast, young lady,” he whispered through the cell. “Don’t lose hope.”

  Then, as quickly as his face had transformed, it did so again, returning to his glassy-eyed, slack-jawed stare as a soldier came up behind him to help him gain his balance.

  “Thank you, my boy,” he garbled. Finn stared in amazement as he leaned heavily on the man, keeping the soldier’s attention squarely on his awkward balancing act. “The damn room keeps spinning on me.”

  She placed her foot over the note once again and watched his departure with her mouth gaping open.

  Slowly, the corners of her lips turned up in a hesitant smile.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The sounds of gentle snoring and the light stirrings of slumbering hybrids filled Finn’s ears. A bowl of untouched gray sludge the soldiers had slid through the slot on her cell sat untouched at Finn’s side. With the steel boxes covering her hands, she couldn’t eat it even if she wanted to.

  Night had fallen long ago but she was having difficulty finding sleep. Her head throbbed from the altercation with Rock, and her heart ached with the hope and fear that waged war against each other there.

  Carrow was gone.

  If Mr. Green’s note was to be believed, the child was safer with him than she would be sitting under the Dome and waiting for the next fight to the death.

  If Mr. Green’s note could be believed.

  Finn struggled between the idea that help was indeed on its way and the notion that the note had merely been a cruel joke played on her by the peculiar announcer.

  Until she knew for sure, the note would remain her secret to keep.

  She wanted desperately to believe that the crew of Independence had survived their run-in with the Reliance. Could Conrad and Iliana be plotting her escape at this very moment?

  Finn felt blindly for the note in the dimness. It was too dark to read it again, but the image of what was written there had already been burned into her brain.

  The Disobedience is coming.

  She struggled with the sock covering her foot, rolling her heel against the ground until she finally managed to slide the thing off. Feeling with her toes, Finn fumbled in the shadows until her foot brushed against Mr. Green’s note. She’d never tried this before, but filled with desperation and without her hands to guide her, she was willing to give anything a shot.

  Finn put her face to the ground and inhaled deeply, letting the smell and taste of the dirty, tiled floor wash over her.

  She latched onto the paper with her toes and closed her eyes. It took longer, and the images were hazier, but as she continued to concentrate, they gradually began to come into sharper focus.

  Mr. Green, adorned in a glittery red robe, is seated behind a gold-dusted marble vanity. Sheets of paper are stacked neatly on top, as well as several jeweled pens, jars of various creams, jewelry, makeup brushes, and other mysterious containers. He is alone, save for the fire roaring inside a massive stone fireplace behind him.

  He hums a jaunty tune to himself as he dips two fingers in a jar and begins to smooth the glittery gold contents over his lips, eyelids, cheekbones, and around the top of his bald head.

  “I need you to get a message inside the Dome, old friend.”

  Both Finn and a slightly startled Mr. Green turn at the same time, searching out the source of the strangely familiar female voice. Finn can’t quite place it and the speaker stands in the doorway several feet away shrouded in shadows, making it impossible for her to be identified.

  Mr. Green gently sets the jar down and smiles wryly.

  “One of these days, darling, I’m going to stick a bell ’round your neck and save myself from an early death brought about by heart failure.”

  The female voice continued, undeterred.

  “I need you to find a way to tell the Teslan that the Luminary is coming for her. For them all,” the woman says sternly, ignoring Mr. Green’s jest. “Montgomery and his crew are rallying as we speak.”

  Finn struggles to see the mysterious stranger, but she continues to remain stubbornly cloaked in darkness.

  Mr. Green studies his reflection in the mirror and dips a dainty finger back into the jar of gold glitter.

  “It looks like the pieces are finally starting to fall into motion. It’s about bloody time,” he muses as he blots his lips and shoots a devilish grin at his reflection. “Things were starting to get painfully boring around here.”

  The enigmatic woman sighs.

  “Be safe, Redmond. Your talents are needed if we are to win this war.”

  Mr. Green scoffs as he blends the gold du
st on his cheekbones with a large, fluffy brush.

  “I’m always careful, darling.”

  Shaking, Finn dropped the paper and released a deep breath. Hot tears burned the back of her eyes.

  They’re alive. Despite Nova’s betrayal, the crew of Independence was safe.

  And they’re coming.

  She had no idea who the secretive woman was, but at least she knew with certainty that Mr. Green’s note was in fact genuine. He’d risked a lot to get it to her, and though she wanted to keep it close, she knew she couldn’t.

  Rolling to her side, Finn placed her aching face near the paper. Doing her best to compartmentalize, she ignored the pain and bitter taste of dirt as she pulled the note between her lips and worked it into her mouth. She chewed hard for long minutes, swallowing back bile until it began to dissolve enough for her to swallow.

  Relief surged through her body, causing her limbs to sag as exhaustion overtook her.

  “You seem calmer than before.”

  The Solidarian’s low voice startled Finn from her thoughts.

  Her ears strained in the darkness. She listened for any activity in the other cells, but the rest of the hybrids remained asleep.

  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” she asked the big man.

  He answered her question with one of his own.

  “Something happened when I touched you out there in the Dome. You saw something, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” She answered him honestly, too tired to guard her response.

  She heard movement from his cell as he shifted closer to the glass separating them.

  “What did you see?”

  Finn closed her eyes, remembering the vision of the boy with flaming hands and the tortured screams of soldiers as they burned alive.

  “I saw what you did to the soldiers who killed your family. It was . . . brutal but impressive for a kid. They tell stories about you in the Farthers, you know?”