“There was a time,” Dr. Akiyama gazes towards the ceiling as he speaks. I’ve seen him do this before, he’s storytelling, “When this District was in its infancy and I remember a very brave young woman whom I had to stitch together on her dining room table.” He pauses and looks directly at me. “And I remember there was a man at her side who held her hand, and changed her bandages-”
“Stop,” I tell him. “I don’t want to remember that. I don’t want to remember Adam. He’s dead. He’s buried. I’m done.”
“What you fail to see is that you had two men in your life that cared very much for you and they’ve changed places. One has died and one remains alive. And the one who remains alive looks just like Adam did when he speaks of you and looks at you.”
“Please, just stop, Doctor-”
“I will stop when you stop pushing away those who care deeply about you. This is not a path you can travel alone. Maybe you thought you could do it when it was just yourself and Lina, but you have two children now, and another little girl who is as close to being another child to you as any. Am I right?”
I nod at him.
“So, Andie, when you are done pushing your partner away and make an attempt-”
“I have-” I start, but he holds his palm up to silence me.
“More than just a few sentences, a real attempt at having a life together. He has been trying, you have not. Don’t you worry that he’s going to give up at some point, and then where will you be, living like this forever? It’s been two years, which means it’s time to hold a conversation, it’s time to share duties, and it’s time to move on. You know Crane won’t wait forever for you, I’m surprised he’s waited this long.”
“Wait for what?” I feel my face twist in question.
“You will find out, soon enough.”
I shake my head at the threat. “I have made some progress.”
“What?”
“I buried his shirt.”
“Who’s shirt?”
“Adams. I had an old shirt of his that I was hanging on to. It smelled like him. Anyway, I buried it at his gravesite.”
Dr. Akiyama flips to a page in his notebook and jots something down.
chapter ten
Crane’s office looks like the office of an accountant or an engineer, with the maps and the stacks of paper laid out on the tables, not a crazed man who’s working on taking over the world. It’s gray, and boring, everything neatly organized, chairs spaced perfectly apart. I’d like to move one, tip it to the side just-so, so he can see the indent in the carpet.
“You need to go to Crystal River,” Crane tells me.
Startled, I focus back on him. “No. I don’t think so.” I shake my head at him.
“It’s been two years. Morris won’t last much longer. You need to finish.”
I think of what happened. The tour he sent me on, all the lessons I had to learn. “And my children?”
“They will be safe with Ian.”
“Who’s bringing me?”
“Colonel Salk.” Crane smiles.
“Are you sure he’s ready?”
“He’s ready. You should have more faith in your little brother.”
“I have plenty of faith in Sam. You have no qualms with having a married couple in the Committee?” I ask him. I don’t like what he’s doing, that he’s included so much of my family into this.
“Actually, it’s perfect. What a better way to show the Residents what we are trying to create here. Why, you two are the perfect example. You work together, go home together, raise the next generation of Sovereign together. There’s no space for a wandering eye, no space for secrets.” He folds his hand on the desk in front of him.
“I don’t like this.”
“You don’t like much of what is required of you.”
I simply stare at him. He’s wearing a red tie. I still hate the color red.
“You’ve changed, Andromeda.” He’s only the second person in a matter of days to tell me this.
“What do you mean?” I ask him.
“Well, your poor attitude is still the same, although it seems to come and go these days. You’re different. I can’t quite place my finger on it.”
“What were you expecting, Crane? You think you could do what you’ve done to me and expect me to stay the same?”
“No. I’m sure you’ve figured it out that we’ve been grooming you for something more. But, something is off with you.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“Have you rekindled your relationship with your husband?”
“That is most certainly none of your business.” I glare at him.
“Hmm,” he responds, moving his hands to his chin.
“When do I leave?” I ask, trying to get as far away from the subject of my relationship with Ian as possible.
“Two days.”
I try to hide my gasp. Only two days. Two days to prepare myself and my family. I am suddenly filled with an overwhelming need to get the hell away from Crane.
“I’m going to see Morris,” I tell him.
“That would be a good idea.”
I practically run out of Crane’s office. I take the stairs, afraid the elevator might take too long. I head for my vehicle, not taking a full breath until I’ve reached the safety inside. He always oversteps his boundaries, but asking if Ian and I have rekindled our relationship, that’s just too much, it’s too personal. Of course, it’s been long enough, we should have rekindled something by now. I should at least be able to touch him, or hug him, or something, but I just can’t bring myself to, and I’m not sure why. I thought burying the last bit of Adam, his old T-shirt, might help, but it just hasn’t yet.
I start the SUV and drive to the hospital where Morris is now residing. When I reach his room, I pull a chair next to Morris’s bedside. He’s sleeping; his breaths slow, steady. I count them, making sure they are at a normal rate. I can hear him rasp with each inspiration. The skin around his lips is tinged blue. I reach forward and turn up his oxygen flow. When I sit back down his eyes are open.
“Morris?” I ask.
“Yes.” He licks his lips. I hold a cup of water with a straw to his mouth. He drinks. “Much better,” he tells me when he’s done.
“How are you, Morris?”
“Old, ready to die.”
I close my eyes. The thought of him dying, of being gone from this earth, just like Adam, just like half our population, it chills me. Whatever bad things he did, all the evil decisions he took part in making, it still hurts. I don’t want him to be gone, he is my mentor here. He’s saved me from Crane more than once, and I’m not sure I could save myself from the bullshit Crane pulls.
“Please don’t say that.” I tell Morris.
“It’s going to happen. Soon, Andromeda. Are you prepared for my death?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He reaches out, laying his hand on mine. It feels cool, rubbery. Our conversations have gotten more morbid and dark since he was admitted to the hospital. It’s the reason why I don’t visit him as much. His teachings are done, and I can’t take the death talk.
“You just need to be ready to take my place.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for that.”
He gives my hand a weak pat. “So, you’re going to Florida?” he changes the subject.
“Yes, to finish my training I’m told.”
“You will. Finish that is.”
“I don’t want to.”
“We know.”
I pull my hands away from him and set them in my lap. “You do?”
“Of course I do. Don’t worry. Their problem is simple. I have faith that you will solve it quickly.”
“That’s a problem with you people.”
“What,” he asks.
“You have far too much faith in me.”
He reaches out, placing his wrinkled, shaking hand over mine. He squeezes it, just a bit. “We have just the right amount of faith
in you.” He closes his eyes.
I wait in silence as he falls asleep before I remove his hand from mine and tuck it under his blanket.
--
Today I make my arrangements before I leave.
When I reach the kitchen I’m surprised to find Ian already awake. He smiles, and holding a cup of coffee out for me he says, “Good morning.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, turning to sit. I stop when I see what looks like a piece of round wood on the table where I usually sit. “What is that?” I ask.
“A gift.” Ian walks up next to me, sipping at his cup of coffee, looking at the object on the table.
“For who?” I ask.
“You.”
I reach forward, touching the piece of wood. It’s a dark cherry wood. The width of a small tree trunk and about four inches tall, the growth rings are visible through the glossy finish. When I run my fingers over the smooth top it moves to the side, revealing a velvet lined space.
“It’s a jewelry box,” Ian tells me.
“Oh,” I reply, picking it up and removing the lid.
“Do you know what today is?” he asks me.
I stop admiring the box as a flurry of dates rush through my memory. I’m hoping it’s not something important, like our wedding anniversary…
Ian doesn’t give me long to contemplate before he speaks again. “It’s your birthday, Andie. Happy birthday.”
“Is this from you?” I ask, setting the box down.
“Yeah, I made it.” He sits next to me.
I run my fingers over the top again. “It’s beautiful. But, I don’t have much jewelry.”
“You have some.” He looks at the necklace around my neck which holds the owl charm from Adam and my wedding band that I still haven’t been able to put back on my finger.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“You forgot. Didn’t you?” he asks, leaning back in his chair.
Truthfully, I haven’t thought about my birthday since this started. I never sat down and added the years. I was always too focused on keeping Lina safe and happy, and completing the tasks assigned to me. “I guess I did,” I admit.
“It’s kind of a big one, Andie. It’s your thirtieth birthday.”
Now the numbers add up. I was twenty-six when this all started, thinking I had a handle on my life, counting my accomplishments, doing my best to carve out a quiet life for my family. Now look at me, four years have flown by, our lives changed. No wonder I stopped keeping track.
“Thanks.” He smiles and takes another sip of his coffee. “I have to leave tomorrow,” I remind him.
He nods. “What will you do there, in Florida?”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure,” I tell him. “It’s kind of like a surprise, a test. They don’t tell me until I get there and then there is usually some underlying problem I have to figure out on my own.”
“And if you pass this test?”
I shrug my shoulders at him. I don’t want to tell him the truth. “Then we’ll be safe.”
“That’s it?” he asks. “We’ll be safe.”
“Let’s just say my rank will be higher than Sovereign.”
“A Funding Entity then?”
“How do you know about that?” I ask. I turn and look into his dark brown eyes. Crane made it clear that we weren’t allowed to speak of the Funding Entities or who they were.
“Crane mentioned them to me. Just, how do you become a Funding Entity?” he asks squinting his eyes in thought. “You have no money to fund anything. Actually, none of us have money anymore.”
I tap the side of my head. “It’s about more than money now. Intellectual property maybe.”
“Because of what you do with the genetic information, the pairings.”
“Yeah. Crane thinks that makes me special or something.”
Ian spins his mug on the table, thinking. “But someone had to pay for all of this. You don’t just take over entire countries without some financials.”
“That’s an answer few people know and they’re not allowed to talk about it.”
“You know, don’t you?” he asks me.
“Don’t,” I warn him. “That’s information I never wanted and I never want to relay to another person.”
“You don’t want to tell me?”
“Sure I do. I just can’t. Not yet at least.”
“Not yet? Then when?”
“When I die.”
“Don’t say that.” He sets the coffee mug down on the table after taking a sip.
“It’s the truth,” I tell him. “These people have their own little laws and guidelines.”
“You mean the Manifesto?”
I shake my head at him. “The Manifesto is for the Residents and Sovereign. The other people who organized this, their rules seem to shift and change with the wind. But they all seem to have one thing in common.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re all afraid of Burton Crane.”
Our conversation is interrupted by the sound of the children padding down the hall, headed for the kitchen. I turn to make them breakfast, realizing that I just had a conversation with Ian. A real conversation. I said more than one full sentence to him. I did more than simply answer a few questions. I held a perfectly normal conversation.
Hearing him washing his mug in the sink, I turn to look at him. He smiles at me, probably with the same realization which I have just had.
“I’m headed to work,” he tells me. “See you tonight.”
As though I’ve used up my daily allowance worth of words for the day, I simply nod at him and watch as he pats the children on their heads and walks out the door.
“How would you like some honey in your milk?” I ask the children.
“No hot cocoa?” Lina asks.
“She said we used the last of it yesterday, remember?” Astrid asks Lina in her hushed voice.
I warned them that we were running out. And the way things are, with the last of our stock from the last run outside of the gates almost gone, I’m not sure when we will see cocoa again. I think Alexander was hiding the last of it just for us. Soon it will be the coffee.
“Honey then?” I ask, placing bread into the oven to toast it.
I warm the milk in a pan, adding a few spoons of the honey Elvis got from a beehive behind the barn. Bringing the mugs to the table, I set them in front of the children and sit down with my coffee.
“Remember,” I start, “how I told you I needed to go on a trip and that you were going to have to stay here?”
“Yes,” Lina replies with a pout.
Astrid looks between us confused. Raven pouts his lips at me just like his sister.
“Well, tonight I have to go on a trip with Uncle Sam. I’ll be leaving for a few days and then I will be back.”
“Who will take care of us?” Astrid asks, her eyes widening with panic.
I reach out and squeeze her shoulder. “Ian will be here to take care of you all.” The timer on the stove dings. I stand, pull the toast from the stove and spread blueberry jam on it. Then I return to the table and pass out the plates. The children eat.
“You won’t forget about us, will you?” Lina asks, her mouth full of bread and crumbs falling out onto the floor for Stevie to clean up.
My breath catches in my throat. “Lina,” I reply, forcing the air from my lungs. “I will never forget about you.” I reach forward and brush her hair out of her face. “It’s only for a few days. I’ll be back before you know it. I won’t forget any of you. I’ll be back. I promise.”
--
“Are you ready?” Sam asks.
We’re standing in the hallway, by the front door. He’s dressed in full Volker uniform. He looks authoritative. Much too authoritative to be my little brother.
“I’ll never be ready,” I tell him as my eyes drift to the pin on his shoulder. It’s a small metallic bird; a phoenix. “Just a sec.”
I rush down the hall, pushing open the door to my room. I wal
k to Raven’s crib. He’s sleeping, but I still lean in and kiss him. Next, I head to Lina’s room. Stevie raises her head from the foot of the bed. I pet her as I pass. I kiss Lina and pull the covers up to her chin. I turn around to find Astrid mostly uncovered, her hair covering her face, her leg hanging off the bed. I move her legs and tuck her in, smooth her hair out of her face.
Stevie whines. I move to pat her head. “Stay with Lina,” I tell her as I close the door and head for the hallway where Sam waits for me.
The last time I left, we at least had a backup plan to get Lina out of here. Sam was prepared and ready to run with her. Now things have changed. Sam is leaving with me, and I have two children and a husband. I don’t think Ian realizes how bad Crane actually is.
Ian stands next to Sam as I walk towards them and I get the feeling I’ve interrupted them.
“Ready now?” Sam asks.
“No, but let’s go,” I tell him. I don’t want to leave. I’ll never be ready to leave my children behind and run off on some horrid training crusade that Crane has planned. I guess it could be worse, he could be sending me to Tonopah. I could have to deal with that psychopath Sakima again.
Sam reaches for my bag. He looks expectantly at me and Ian, raising his eyebrows. “Watch over them, Ian.” I tell him as Sam walks out the door.
“I will,” Ian replies with a thick voice.
“No,” I turn, “make sure Crane doesn’t come near them. He’s always lurking in the shadows waiting for me to be gone so he can pull some bullshit.”
“I’ll watch them,” Ian promises.
“I’m serious, Ian. You don’t know what I went through to get you all back. The things I had to do.” I killed a man in cold-blood and then Adam tried to save me and Raven, and died. I don’t tell him that though. I’m sure it’s nothing he wants to hear right now. And to be truthful, I don’t want him thinking any less of me right now.
He places his hand on my arm. I look down at it as though someone has thrown a meatball there. He hasn’t touched me since he showed up here. He hasn’t touched me in two years. Of course, I haven’t touched him either. We just started having full conversations, can’t rush this.
The Phoenix Project Series: Books 1-3: The Phoenix Project, The Reformation, and Revelation Page 61