Anomalies

by Sadie Turner

  What I really want to know is if he too is dreaming about Sobek Vesely feeding off his soul.

  “IT’S EXACTLY AS I REMEMBERED IT,” Calix said as he I looked around Monarch Camp. “Without the campers, of course.”

  “They’re just little kids,” Sarayu murmured. “It’s late. They’re probably already sleeping.”

  It was past nine o’clock when they arrived at Monarch Camp and Calix reflectively felt himself reach for Sarayu’s hand as they exited the helicraft. They had flown alone as Sobek had come to the camp on an earlier craft.

  During the short ride from Sabbatical City, Sarayu talked nonstop; yet it wasn’t annoying. Calix now found himself somewhat attracted to his intended partner. Sure, he wasn’t head over heels in love with her. But anyone could see that she was extremely beautiful. She was also exceptionally smart and immensely curious. Perhaps he could enlist her help in figuring out how to undermine his father’s operation. Calix smiled. One step at a time.

  “Should we wander around?” he asked Sarayu, squeezing her hand.

  “I’d love to, but your father said we should go straight to MC-5,” she said nervously.

  “I’m not a big fan of doing exactly what my father wants,” Calix grinned, stepping closer to Sarayu. They were right in front of the flagpole. He vaguely remembered seeing something about a flagpole in one of the holos his father had shown him a few weeks earlier. Shaking the image from his mind, he concentrated on his intended partner. Sarayu’s eyes were tiger-like, green and yellow and constantly moving. Calix wanted to calm her frenetic eyes, which were now clouded with worry.

  “Besides, there’s nothing more romantic than a moonlight swim. Trust me,” he leaned down and kissed her, feeling the warmth of her lips as she kissed him back.

  “OK then.” She smiled. “Sobek may be my world leader, but you are my future spouse. Let’s go exploring.”

  Calix grabbed her hand and led her toward the lake.

  I am terrified.

  I smell the smoke before I see the fire.

  I am enjoying an early morning swim after having had my first nightmare-free sleep since I’ve been home. I crept out into the crisp morning, the unusually strong wind whipping against my back as I walked into the water. The cool water feels like a needed salve and, like riding a bike, my muscles remember exactly what to do. I suppress a suspicion that something is wrong. I had a feeling when I got out of bed, but I ignored it. I wanted to simply enjoy the morning.

  My mind is completely clear as I focus on my strokes. I’ve been swimming for close to an hour when I instinctively know that something is truly wrong. My suspicions are confirmed when I come up for air and the smell suddenly hits me: the putrid stench of gasoline and smoke. I turn to my beloved home and see it engulfed in flames.

  My father, I have to get to my father.

  I pray that he has gotten out, but I can’t see him through the thick smoke. What if he is still sleeping? Ever since I’ve been home, he’s been acting strangely. I assume it’s because he’s worried about me, but he’s been up late every night working, which is uncharacteristic of him. If one word can describe my father it is predictable. He is completely ordinary and predictable, a punctual man who always goes to sleep early and rises early. Yet, the past week he’s been up into the late hours of the morning. He keeps mumbling something about being on the brink of a discovery, but when I press him, he doesn’t answer.

  My arms feel leaden as they try to push against the choppy surf. I swim as fast as I can, all the while watching helplessly as my home goes up in a blaze. I choke on the salty water, trying to swim faster than I am physically able. Breathe, Keeva, just breathe, I say to myself, trying to calm down. When I finally get to the shore, I race to the cottage where I finally see my father. He’s behind what’s left of the house near a thicket of bushes, unsuccessfully trying to quench the flames. Once he sees me, my father races toward me with a black knapsack clutched in his hand.

  “Keeva, you’re alive.” My father envelops me into his big arms.

  “What happened?” I wrench myself free, watching my beloved home go up in smoke. All of my possessions … my clothes, my tablet, holos of my mother….

  “We don’t have much time.” He pulls a small object from his bag, “I’m sorry, but this will only hurt for a second.” My father turns on a switch on a small handheld electric rod the size of an old fashioned screwdriver. Before I know what is happening, he puts it on my Third and I feel a burning zap that quickly fells me to the sand.

  “What was that for?” I say angrily.

  “I’ve disabled your Third.”

  “That’s illegal,” I say with disbelief. I’m a Protector now. I not only have to follow the rules, I have to monitor others. I could turn in my father for such a blatant act of treason. Is this a test? I could never hurt my father. But why is he disobeying the law?

  “Keeva. I had to do it. This way they won’t be able to track you. You have to become invisible,” my father says hurriedly, scanning the empty shoreline. He presses a makeshift Third onto my disabled one. A crystalline dot which looks identical to my original Third. “This is for design only, it doesn’t work but it looks authentic. They won’t be able to track you. Now, you have to go. They’ll be here soon.”

  “Who will? Dad, you’re scaring me,” I cry and start to shiver. I’m still dripping from the cold water. The air is thick with smoke and gray ash flies off the house, clinging to my wet body.

  “Listen to me very carefully.” As he speaks, my father takes off his blue sweatshirt and puts it on me before I can protest. “I’ve been working on a project which is not exactly in compliance with my job as a marine biologist.” He pushes the knapsack into my hand. “I just finished last night. I spent a lifetime figuring out the exact answer. It’s all here. The contents are invaluable.” The wind whipping against the fire is drowning out his voice. “You have to find the Labyrinth.”

  “Labyrinth?” I can barely hear my father.

  “Go to Sabbatical City, Keeva. Listen to your voices.”

  “I don’t understand.” What is my father talking about? My father is a rule follower. Someone who preaches protocol. Someone who has spent every day of his life in the ocean, working in the Desalination Plant on toxicology. Now he’s suddenly disabling my Third and telling me to listen to the instinct he’s refused to accept my entire life. It doesn’t make any sense.

  “It’s a lie, Keeva. It’s all a lie. Sobek and the Global Governance aren’t protecting us from extinction. They’re keeping us docile and complacent. The camps, the water … .”

  My father’s furtive words are now completely drowned out by the hum of a nearby helicraft landing on the beach. “Go. Now. Become invisible. You’re not safe, Keeva. You never were.”

  He quickly hugs me, and then pulls me along to the safety of the bushes. I hide behind the scratchy shrubs, which cut my bare legs with their sharp branches. Through a small break in the undergrowth, I watch as he walks determinedly to the helicraft. I hate how vulnerable he looks. His thin T-shirt is whipping in the wind. The smell of the smoke is unbearable, but I can’t leave. I have to see what happens.

  My father puts his hands up in the air as the door opens, and two burly Protectors jump out and tackle him to the ground. One of them, a tall, bald man, looks in my direction and starts to walk toward me. My father screams, writhing out of the other man’s grasp, as he tries to escape. The first Protector turns back and tasers my father, who crumbles to the ground.

  I cover my mouth to prevent myself from crying out as the men lift his broken body onto the craft and fly away. But I know they’ll be back. Whether it’s for me or for the contents in the knapsack, I don’t know.

  All I know is that I have to hide before the helicrafts return.

  “DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GO one without dis-obeying me?” Sobek asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Calix said.

  Sobek’s men had found him and Sarayu swimming and ordered them to come
to the Victorian building, just beyond the lake. But Calix was having such a good time racing his intended partner that he had waved them away.

  “Again,” Calix said once the men had huffed off. He pushed off the side of the dock and got a head start as he swam across the lake.

  “Remember, I live in East America,” Sarayu said at the far side of the lake as she beat him for the third time in a row. “I have a bit of an advantage over a landlocked boy from Sabbatical City.”

  “But I’m the only son of the World Leader,” Calix boasted.

  “Doesn’t make you a better swimmer than I am,” Sarayu teased as she splashed him with water.

  Calix felt at ease, playing in the water with his friend. He could definitely see a future with this funny girl who wasn’t afraid to challenge him. Yet their laughter had been short-lived. Suddenly Claudia Durant appeared at the end of the lake. Reluctantly, Calix and Sarayu swam toward her; and this time Calix purposely swam as slowly as he possibly could.

  “Ah, Mr. Vesely. What a pleasure to see you again,” Claudia Durant said when they reached the edge. She waited for the pair to climb out of the lake and tossed them each a towel.

  “I wish I could say the same, Instructor Durant,” Calix said. “But I have a feeling this camp experience isn’t going to be as pleasant as the last time.”

  “Why would you say that?” Claudia Durant demanded. “It seems to me like you are having fun.”

  “That’s because I haven’t seen my father yet. I assume he’s here.”

  “He is. He’s waiting for you in MC-5.”

  “C’mon,” Calix grabbed Sarayu’s hand, only to be stopped by Claudia Durant.

  “It is just you whom your father wishes to see right now. It’s late. Ms. Singh will be joining Girls Bunk 8.”

  “She’s staying with five-year-olds?” Calix laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Not too ridiculous. You’ll be staying in Boys Bunk 8. I suggest you get going.” She nodded to the tall stone building in front of them. “I can tell you from personal experience your father does not like to be kept waiting.”

  Calix shook his head. He hugged Sarayu goodbye and headed toward the imposing Victorian building. He lifted his head to scan the top of the turret and saw a flicker of movement at the window. He could see his father looking down at him.

  Sobek had been watching him the entire time.

  I am running.

  There are already people starting to mill around, trying to sort out what has happened, and I need to hide before someone starts asking me questions. I need somewhere quiet to think until I can figure out what to do. There’s only one place I can go, and I have to get there before the sun rises. Clutching my father’s knapsack, I race down the shore, away from the houses toward the jagged cliffs. Ten minutes later, I am around the bend and the houses are completely out of sight.

  The Cliffs are an area you can only reach at low tide, either in the early morning or in the early evening. Here the rocks are bigger and obstruct the shoreline. I gingerly climb the side of the cliff, putting my feet into the worn crevices I have climbed for years. When I am about halfway up, I rest on a large rock that juts out and I twist my body behind the ragged formation just to its left. There is an almost invisible entrance to a cave that one has to be quite thin to fit through. I pull the bag in behind me, trying not to fall. The entrance to the cliffside cave is slippery. I’ve been playing here since I was a little girl, and years of water splashing against the rocks has made my rocky path smooth and slick, especially in bare feet.

  I easily find my way to my hiding spot in the back of the cave. After my sister was taken, I used to spend hours in here, hiding from the world. I would cry uncontrollably, unsure how to control my emotions. The cave seemed like the safest place to vent my frustrations and pain. My father refused to acknowledge my sister’s existence and no one else knew. They assumed she had died like my mother had, in childbirth. They believed what we had told them.

  But I knew she was alive. In my cave retreat, I drew pictures of her that I would one day give her. To make her seem real, I even celebrated her birthday every year. I hadn’t been to the cave since Sun’s last birthday, her eleventh, and it is crowded with bugs and twigs and mossy grass. Once I climb safely inside, I reach into a dry opening in the back of the cave, which is covered with a moveable boulder. I heave the big rock aside and pull out a candle and flint.

  Once I light the candle and set it down in the middle of the cave, I take inventory of my father’s knapsack. It is mostly filled with notebooks containing scientific equations, which I don’t understand. I flip through the pages until I come to an illustration of the Desalination Plant. It is hard for me to look at my father’s precise drawing, not knowing where he is or what he is doing. Why does he even have this notebook? Regulations dictate that all research material is to be kept in the labs, under strict Global Governance guidelines. Why would he break the law? I study the picture, which shows a maze of pipes underneath the water. They are all gray pipes with several colored caps: They are mostly silver, with a couple whites and one red.

  Because the oceans make up 97 percent of the world’s supply of water, Sobek’s desalination plants use seawater reverse osmosis to develop viable drinking water. After the Great Technology War, Sobek created three solar-powered plants to immediately address the health issues faced by contaminated water. One for each of the new territories. So much of the population had died in the war, and the remaining citizens became sick from the toxic water. Radioactive particles released from the explosions at the nuclear power plants had threatened to destroy the entire world’s seafood supply. Sobek’s advanced scientific technologies quickly fixed the problem by neutralizing the toxin and gave us clean drinking water. My father was one of the masterminds behind the plant. So, why is he in trouble? I keep looking at his illustration, trying to see the problem. There is nothing out of the ordinary. It is simply a complex maze of pipes running along the bottom of the plant. He has color-coded each one and put a series of equations beside it. It is all terribly scientific and I don’t understand it. I clearly cannot see anything covert or out of place. What is my father trying to tell me?

  I pull out the rest of the bag’s contents: There is a standard identity watch; yet when I put in the holograph identity chip, it is not me. It is my picture, but not my name. There are six chips in total: three for me and three for my father, all bearing the authentic data encrypted scanner codes … with fake identities. My aliases are Kallie, Kenzie, and Kiara. I have no idea who I am anymore. Why does my father have secret identities for me? Is this what he meant about becoming invisible? Becoming someone else? There is also a wallet filled with currency chips, a packet of vitamins, and a necklace that belonged to my mother. I put the notebooks and the vitamins back in the knapsack and shove it into my hiding place. I put on my mother’s necklace, a locket which I know encases pictures of both me and my father. I then set the identity watch to the “Kenzie” chip and put it on before shoving the currency chips in the pocket of my father’s sweatshirt. I am still freezing. The sweatshirt hangs down to my knees, but I need some proper pants and shoes. All of my things are gone. I pull myself into the fetal position on the dry floor, hugging myself to get warm. How have things gotten so messed up? Usually at this time I’d be wolfing down an enormous breakfast and going to school. My eyes feel so heavy.

  Maybe if I just close them for a minute, I can think better.

  “Keeva, follow me,” the voice says authoritatively. I somehow know I am dreaming … yet, I can’t wake myself up, so I give in to my subconscious.

  I am walking through a long, dark hallway. It is cold and made completely out of stone. I’m nervous, but the boy with the blue eyes next to me keeps squeezing my hand to give me strength. I turn to look at him. He is my height, about four feet, which is quite tall for a five-year-old, and he is wearing a knee-length tunic similar to mine. Only his is brown and mine is blue. We walk hand in hand behind the ta
ll woman with the short brown hair. When we get to the big room, she gives us each a cup of water and instructs us to drink. I don’t want to drink the water because it tastes funny, but the look on her face scares me, so I drink it all.

  I feel a little fuzzy, but before I can say anything, the short-haired woman starts to wrap a rope around the boy and me. Why is she doing this? I don’t like it. The rope wraps tighter and tighter around us and I have trouble breathing. “Please stop,” I beg. But no one is listening. The boy with the blue eyes is also crying. Between my tears and my inability to breathe, I think I am going to die.

  I don’t think it can get any worse until I feel myself being lifted in the air. I am terrified as I feel my feet leave the ground and I am hauled high into the cavern. There is some kind of pulley on the wall and a large man is turning a wheel and hoisting us to the high ceiling. It is so dark. I want to go home to my parents. My mother is pregnant and I want to talk to her belly. I want to talk to my baby sister. Why am I here? Suddenly, we are flipped over and as I scream in terror, I feel all the blood rushing to my head. Just before I pass out, I see a black butterfly fluttering around my face.

  I jolt awake, bathed in sweat, trying to get my bearings. The guttering candle makes ominous shadows around the cave and for a moment I’m not sure if I am still trapped in my dream. I peek outside and see the full moon low on the horizon. I have slept for most of the day. I stretch my arms and roll my neck a few times, stiff from sleeping so long on the hard cave floor. My stomach is growling. I need food and a better place to hide, but I don’t know where to go.