by Dima Zales
She raises her hand. Jeremiah does the same.
Everyone else’s hands follow. Those two obviously wield all the power in the room. The Envoy was clever to force their alliance, which sucks all the more for me.
“All right then,” Jeremiah says. “Going forward, Fiona and I will discuss this matter privately. Now we can talk about other matters, including the Birth Day celebrations.” He gives the round-faced woman a fake-looking smile.
The woman takes his smile at face value and launches into a laundry list of activities that need to be done for the big day.
Halfway through it, Phoe closes the Screen and says, “Part of me is still monitoring their conversation. If they talk about anything of note, I’ll tell you.”
I audibly let out a breath I inadvertently kept in—probably throughout the whole Council meeting. “Can I panic now?” I’m so upset I say the words out loud. Subvocally, I add, “Do we have all the facts?”
It’s only when I finish speaking that I notice how pale Phoe is.
“Yes,” she says softly. “Now we can panic.”
5
I jump to my feet, unable to sit still.
Phoe gets up too.
“I didn’t know.” Phoe twists her hands together. “I didn’t know about the unaltered archives.”
“But now that you do, can you somehow make it so they can’t connect me to Mason?” I take a step toward her. “Please, tell me you can.”
“I have no idea where this archive is, and I’ve been searching for it since Jeremiah mentioned it. With my new resources, a few seconds is a long time.” She doesn’t meet my gaze. “On the bright side, once they access it, things might change, unless, like the Envoy, it’s behind that cursed Firewall.”
I pace back and forth for a while, and she just watches me.
“What do we do, Phoe?” I subvocalize after a minute. “They might find out I was Mason’s friend and come interrogate me at any moment.”
“They’re still in the meeting. Afterwards, it might take them a while to scan through those secret archives.” Stepping toward me, Phoe catches my forearm. “On top of that, even now, that round-faced woman is persuading them to help with the Birth Day chores.”
“Okay, so I have two days instead of one.” I pull away and make another circle around her. “The situation is still pretty screwed up.”
Phoe nods, her expression tense.
“Can’t you think of anything we can do?” I ask, stopping to take in a few deep breaths. Respirocytes don’t seem to negatively affect the relaxation the exercise brings me, which is good.
“I’ve thought of a multitude of plans,” Phoe says, “but all of them have flaws.”
I resume pacing a bit slower. This time it’s my mind that’s racing and not my legs. An idea is forming, but it’s pretty insane.
“Would that Lens of Truth make me answer all of Jeremiah’s questions truthfully? Even though you protected my brain from mind control earlier?” I subvocalize, figuring that before I state my crazy plan, I should verify that I’m as deeply in shit as I think I am. “I wouldn’t be able to lie… even to protect you?”
“I’m sorry, Theo, but I don’t think the protection I gave you earlier would work against this, and if I tried to counter it at this point, I might as well announce my existence to them.” Phoe frowns in concentration. “That is, assuming I figure out exactly how it works, which I think I could. Even the ancients had lie detection technology, and if I read up on its evolution over the years—”
“Never mind the technical details,” I think and stop in front of her. “You said you could undo a Forgetting, right?”
“Yes,” she says.
“Okay. Remember when the Envoy said that if Jeremiah really did make himself Forget, he wouldn’t have been lying under the Lens of Truth, even if he actually was lying?” I run my hands through my hair and wait for her to nod. “So, my idea is this: you make me Forget, so that when they eventually ask me questions as part of this investigation, I’ll honestly say I don’t know anything. Then, later, you can undo the Forgetting and—”
“You think this wasn’t one of the first solutions I thought about?” Phoe gently touches my elbow. “You haven’t fully considered what you’re asking. You would Forget me. You would Forget Mason. You would Forget—”
“I obviously don’t want to do this.” I resume pacing circles around her. “I just don’t see any other options. If you mess with their minds, the Envoy will know. If I’m caught lying, the situation will be worse. Either they’ll kill me, or you’ll reveal yourself while trying to protect me. I can’t run anywhere. There’s nowhere to hide. Besides, this Forgetting would be temporary, so how bad could it be?”
“The Forgetting would be brief, that’s true, but it doesn’t make it any less distasteful. Besides, making you Forget won’t solve all our problems.” She gestures, and a neural scan shows up. “Not by a long shot.”
I stop pacing to examine the new Screen. It’s my neural scan, that much is clear. My brain is a beehive of activity. It reminds me of a video I saw of an ancient city highway. Compared to the scan from yesterday, the changes are profound. Compared to two days ago, it might as well belong to a different brain.
“This is the result of you ridding me of their tampering, isn’t it?” I whisper.
“Yes.”
“And all these changes are after only two days without all that stuff?”
She sighs. “Now you see the problem.”
“But what if you reverse this?” My throat feels like sandpaper as I say the words. Catching myself speaking out loud, I continue mentally. “What if you turn it all back on and make me like the other Youths?”
“It would take days for you to get to the point where any irregularities would be considered within the norm.” Phoe makes a quick gesture and offers me the resulting cup of water. “I can’t even imagine how you’d explain all this adrenaline to yourself.”
“Well”—I accept the cup—“they might be searching the archives for some time, hopefully until the end of today. After that, they have the Birth Day prep and celebrations to deal with, so with any luck, they might actually only get here in a couple of days.”
“We have no way of knowing if that will be enough time for you to return to the baseline of a normal Youth’s neural scan,” she says. “Besides, they could still decide to conduct the interrogations on Birth Day. Today is only starting, and they have until tomorrow.”
“Listen, Phoe.” I take a thirsty gulp from the cup. “It’s my safety we’re talking about. My plan. My mind.” I gesture for the cup to dissipate. “Shouldn’t it be my decision?”
Phoe steps closer to me, leans in, and says, “I’m your friend, Theo.” She puts her hand on the back of my neck. “Looking out for you comes with the territory. Not to mention, it’s in my nature as the ship to look out for the crew.”
I feel a positive, calming energy spreading from where her hand touches my neck, though maybe it’s her words that are having this effect on me. On the Screen, I see a surge of endorphins. My reaction to her small touch makes me wonder what my brain looked like when we kissed yesterday. Embarrassed by the memory and aware that she probably knows exactly what I’m thinking, I chuckle warily and say, “I’m now your crew? Does that make me the captain?”
“More like the cabin boy.” She pulls her hand away and gives me a sad smile. “Seriously, though, is there any way I can dissuade you from this idea?”
“Yeah.” I return her smile with as much swagger as I can muster. “Come up with a better plan.”
We stand there in silence, looking at each other for a few seconds.
“Phoe.” This time, I put my hand on the back of her neck. “They’ll come for me no matter what. At least this way I’ll have a good chance at staying out of trouble.”
“Let’s walk back,” Phoe says and steps out of my reach.
She looks like she’s come to a decision, but I can’t tell what.
�
��For now, I’m just saying we should go back.” As she’s walking, she adds over her shoulder, “If we are to do this insanity, it would be better if you were in bed.”
I follow her.
“Please make sure not to speak out loud anymore. I didn’t give you a hard time when we were sitting by the Edge since I made sure no one was eavesdropping on us, but as we get closer to the Institute, I don’t want to risk it.”
“Sounds good,” I think. “Do you agree with my plan?”
“Maybe.” She massages her temples with her index fingers. “Yes, but I do so with great reluctance. And I hope you realize I will have to turn everything back on. The serotonin controls, the Oneness—all those things you hate.”
“I understand.”
“I will also have to turn off the Respirocytes,” she says. “And I will have to do my best to copy their Forgetting, which means you won’t be able to recall Mason, just like everyone else. Same goes for a bunch of movies and music and, most importantly, me.”
“You’ve already said that. I get it. It’s fine. It’s only temporary.” I step onto the pathway that leads to the Dorms. “Like you said, you’ll make me remember it all afterwards.”
“I will, but—” She grimaces. “Your personal identity will splinter after the Forgetting, because that part of you will cease to exist after I undo the Forgetting. Don’t you get that?”
I rub my chin. “My identity?”
“Think about it. After the Forgetting, a new you will be formed. That Theo, the naïve Theo, will exist for a time, but afterwards, once I restore you—” She pauses. “I’m not sure what will happen to the naïve Theo at that point. There’s simply no precedent that I’m aware of.” She lets me catch up with her and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Will he, that persona, be obliterated? And if so, is that a murder of sorts? Do I have the right to do something like that? Do you have the right?”
“Won’t it just be like remembering something I forgot?” I think pointedly while my insides inexplicably shiver. “I’m me no matter what I can or can’t recall.”
“I believe that knowing me, combined with your recent experiences—not to mention having the tampering turned off—has been a crucial turning point in your personality. Without all that, you wouldn’t really be you anymore, and vice versa.”
“But you said that the Forgetting merely blocks recall… that it makes us create a confabulation of the new reality,” I think, my brain beginning to hurt. “That makes it sound like I’d still be me, only with a bunch of bullshit explanations as to what I can’t recall.”
Phoe gives me a sad look. “One can lie to oneself to the point where one becomes a different person. People have done it since antiquity.”
“I’ll take my chances with this identity crisis,” I think with a bravado I don’t truly feel. “Please don’t try to talk me out of this anymore.”
She doesn’t respond.
We walk in silence the rest of the way to my Dorm. I guess not speaking is what it takes for Phoe to not try to talk me out of this plan. Still, it feels like a companionable silence.
“Get in bed,” Phoe says after we enter my room. “It will be less disorienting for you to wake up in bed after the Forgetting. You won’t have to confabulate a reason you were by the Goo so early in the morning.”
My hands shake as I summon the bed.
Phoe summons the blanket for me. “It’s not too late to reconsider. I haven’t—”
“It’s the only way.” I imbue my thought with as much decisiveness as I can. “Please, do it now. The anticipation is killing me.”
She nods and says softly, “Goodbye, Theo. I’ll see you soon.”
Her face is a pale mask as she makes the orchestra-conductor gesture.
I feel hypnotized by her delicate movements. As I watch, I feel a tsunami of drowsiness wash over me, and I don’t fight it.
My eyes close, and I fall down the rabbit hole of sleep.
6
“Dude,” Liam says, sounding too energetic for early morning. “Wake up.”
I open my eyes, bring up a Screen, and realize the morning is not so early after all.
“Aha,” Liam says. “You’re up. Let’s play hooky from Calculus.” He kicks my bed. “To start with, anyhow.”
I sit up halfway.
My mouth feels surprisingly clean, but I allow the Cleaning to happen anyway. I don’t feel hungry or thirsty, which is also odd. I must’ve done what Liam used to do as a kid: sleep-eat in the middle of the night and deny it in the morning.
As the Cleaning progresses, I realize I feel strange. I can best describe the weird sensation as a very high level of excitement. With my heart beating frantically and my extremities cold, I feel as though I ran a marathon. Maybe it’s because Birth Day is tomorrow? We finally get a day off from school, not to mention all the usual awesome extravaganzas that go along with the holiday. Am I overexcited because of that?
“Earth to Theo,” Liam says, giving my bed a stronger shove. “Are we skipping Calculus or what?”
“First, I don’t mind math as much as you do.” I raise my hand before he can say something else. “Second, there’s no way I’m risking a Quietude on Birth Day eve.”
“They wouldn’t,” he says, but then he frowns.
“Yes, I see you remember what happened to Owen two years ago, thanks to your—”
“Hey.” Liam grins. “You know he deserved it.”
“Debatable,” I say as I get ready for Lectures. “I’m walking to the Rock Garden. I feel too wired, so I want to do a quick meditation. Do you want to join?”
“Nah,” Liam says. “But I might see you in Calculus.”
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow.
“You might be right,” he says grudgingly. “Not worth the risk today. They might have another glassblowing display at the Fair tomorrow, and I don’t want to miss it.”
I chuckle as I walk out of the room.
On my way to the Rock Garden, I can’t help but reflect on the combination of Liam and glassblowing. It’s the oddest trade for him to want to take up as an Adult. Of all the different jobs and hobbies Adults have, that’s not one I can imagine Liam practicing. My best guess is that it’s the element of danger—literally playing with fire—that appeals to him. What makes it so hard to picture is Liam’s attention deficit. If the shapes of the glass products at the Fair are anything to go by, that stuff requires patience.
“Hi, Theo.” A pleasant female voice takes me out of my reverie as I pass by the statue in the Rock Garden. “Did you come here to meditate?”
I look behind the statue and see Grace getting up from a crouching position on the grass. It seems I caught her doing yoga.
“Yeah,” I respond cautiously, “but I can go elsewhere.”
“I’m almost finished,” she says, smiling. “I haven’t seen you meditate in so long. I’m glad you decided to pick it up again.”
I fight my initial urge to ask if she’s been spying on me. She’s being civil, and I don’t see a reason to be the first one to start something—especially something that could lead to a Quietude.
It’s a shame how my relationship with Grace degraded over the years. She, Liam, and I were friends when we were younger, but after she got a Quietude because of our mischief, she officially stopped hanging out with us and became something of a snitch, or, as she would probably put it, an ‘upstanding Oasis citizen.’
“I’ve had the same routine for a while and play sports after Lectures,” I say when I realize she’s waiting for me to answer. “So I got behind on my meditation, but today I feel really wired. With Birth Day tomorrow, I need to get centered.”
“You haven’t been this chatty in a long time either.” Grace’s smile widens. “I just have to finish three poses, so you can start setting up.”
“Sure, Grace,” I say, and then add without thinking, “I like seeing you smile.”
Grace’s smile disappears, and she gives me a confused stare.
I don
’t know why I said that, nor do I know why I find her big blue eyes interesting today.
“Sorry if I’m babbling,” I say, blinking. “As you can see, I really need to clear my mind.” I wave her on. “Go ahead, finish your yoga.”
“Okay,” Grace says and relaxes a little.
I look at her and wonder what possessed me to compliment her smile like some guy from an ancient movie. I’m glad she’s in a good mood. Otherwise, she could’ve misconstrued the comment for something forbidden, and if she had, she would’ve told on me, since that’s the way she is.
I walk over to a nice sunny spot and sit in a lotus pose.
Grace is still in my field of vision. She gets back on the ground and flawlessly executes Setu Bandhasana—the bridge pose. Liam calls it the ‘bending over backwards’ pose, and he’s not that far off the mark. Having tried the pose myself, I know it requires an immense amount of flexibility. Grace makes it look easy.
Maybe I chose a bad spot, because I feel very hot all of a sudden.
Unable to help myself, I look back at Grace’s pose. She has her pelvis high in the air, and even through her baggy Youth clothing, I can tell she has feminine curves of the kind I’ve seen in ancient media.
When she switches positions, I look away. But when she goes into Halasana—the plow pose—I can’t help but stare at her again. I guess I’m admiring her skills. That must be it. Why else would I find this so interesting? Maybe I should try doing yoga. I know I never even tried doing the pose she’s in, not after Liam compared it to trying to blow oneself. He’s lucky no one but me heard him say that, or else he’d still be in Quietude.
Next, Grace gets into Adho Mukha Svanasana, also known as the ‘downward-facing dog’ pose. As she executes it, I wonder why this one isn’t called the bridge. With her butt in the air like that, she certainly looks more like a bridge than an ancient dog.
Meditation is now the furthest thing from my mind. For some unknown reason, I can’t peel my eyes from her pose. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and wonder why I find Grace’s workout so hypnotizing today. Can someone get up one day and be this much into yoga? Also, why is my heart beating faster? Why do I feel this strange stirring in—