“So,” Felicity started, raising her hand when we were asked about other topics of discussion, “I think we need to discuss what Mr. Christenson said last week about the kids in the Commission who attacked someone.”
“What about it?” Clark said, tensing.
“First of all, I think we need to know what caused him to announce something like that,” she continued, getting a round of agreements. I looked at Clark nervously, trying to tell him with my eyes that we should not talk about the attack.
“Look,” Melissa started, “who cares? Mr. Christenson said that we needed to be more diligent and not get stupid. Isn’t that enough?”
“What it is, is stupid,” Lance snapped.
“No kidding,” Gracie scoffed. “I mean, why should we be punished like this when we didn’t even do anything?”
“Something did happen,” Clark assured. “Mr. Christenson has already taken care of the situation, and we should leave it at that.”
“You know what happened, don’t you Clark?” Lance pressed.
“I only know what Mr. Christenson told everyone at the meeting,” Clark shook his head. “We have more important things to talk about.”
“Like what?” Felicity snapped. “I would much rather talk about how we were all threatened to be taken into the back of the Commission and we don’t even know what we did wrong!”
Clark was silent for a moment.
“Is anyone unhappy with Mr. Christenson right now?” he asked, his voice cold. I blinked, wondering if he was really trying to make someone come forward with doubts about the Commission. I started looking around, trying to gauge reactions.
Everyone turned away and looked at the floor, knowing they could not answer.
“I would say that, if you have a complaint about what he said last week at the meeting, you take it up directly with him,” Clark said. “We can sit here and complain all we want, but it won’t change anything. You have a problem? Take it up with Mr. Christenson.”
We were silent and I had to applaud Clark. For being as nervous and awkward as he often seemed, when he needed to, he could be commanding and shut people up.
“Is there anything else we need to talk about?”
No one said anything for a long moment until Sarah raised her hand.
“Actually, I have a question,” she said. “There have been rumors going around about Miranda Jacobs…”
The others turned and started whispering to one another.
Clark nodded.
“I have heard,” he assured. “And I am sorry to say, but this has also been brought to the attention of the Commission. The Commission is running a thorough search to test the validity of these rumors. We should know soon what they find.”
“It’s not true,” Felicity shook her head.
“If it’s not true, then where is she?” Sarah hissed. “She’s been gone for nearly a week…”
No one could answer.
* *** *
When I got home, I quickly rushed up stairs and saw Mykail waiting for me.
“Hey,” he whispered. “How did it go?”
“Let me get changed really quick.”
I slipped into my room and changed into my pajamas, throwing my dress and boots haphazardly in the corner after retrieving the notes.
I opened my door and listened carefully to the noise downstairs. My mother had been awake when I got home, but she was already dressed for bed, which meant that she had been waiting for me.
I heard her moving around, turning off lights. I carefully crept to the door of Mykail’s room, unlocking it as gently as I could. He helped me open it slowly so as not to make any noise, a process with which we had become extremely skilled.
“How was Archangel?” he asked again as we sat on the bed.
“Boring, for the most part,” I shrugged. I fiddled with the papers in my hand. When he was sitting as well, I extended the notes to him. “But this was really interesting…”
“What is it?” he asked, taking the notes hesitantly.
“Clark found them in his book today at school,” I explained, watching his long, lithe fingers unfold the papers. “We can’t understand them, and we’re afraid of knowing who gave them to him. So, we’re hoping you understand all this. It’s gibberish to us.”
He was watching me as I spoke and then looked at the first page. He blinked at the numbers and letters, confused. For a moment, and I was afraid he would also not be able to make sense of the information.
Then he turned to the next page.
His eyes went wide and his eyes immediately went back to me.
“Where did Clark get this?” he asked sharply.
I could not answer for a few moments, too surprised by his reaction.
“Lily, where did he get these? Who gave them to him?” he asked sternly.
“I don’t know,” I said. “He said he just found them in his book at school today.”
Mykail stared at me for a moment, trying to evaluate if I was telling the truth or not. He finally glanced back down at the papers, his eyes moving slowly over the page before he turned to the next one. His eyes went wider and his jaw dropped.
“I can’t believe this…”
“What is it?”
He glanced at me before looking back at the notes and taking a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “This is very valuable, very dangerous information,” he said. “It’s information on twenty-seven experiments. I mean…this has everything. Their ward number, their cell number, the rotation they have, their general testing, their checkups, their security rounds…”
“How can you tell?”
“It’s a code used by the experiments,” Mykail said. He faced me, placing the notes on the bed. “Every week, every experiment gets some time to interact with others, to go outside and stretch their legs, so to speak.”
“Go outside?” I said skeptically.
“Yes,” Mykail nodded. “It’s also a way to test how much of a success testing is, so the scientists can gauge social interactions and whatnot.”
“Why don’t they escape?”
“It’s not really outside…it’s an artificial environment. It looks a bit like a massive greenhouse. I don’t even think that it’s above ground, but it gives us time to be around one another.” Mykail tapped the papers slowly. “I don’t know where it started, but the experiments that have been there longer teach the younger experiments the code, so that we can communicate in a way that the scientists and Dana won’t understand.”
“And this is in that code?”
“Yes,” he answered. He picked up the papers again and looked them over, shaking his head. “This is incredible…do you know who Clark’s gift was?”
“No,” I shook my head. “Do you think that it could be Clark’s family’s gift?”
“It’s unlikely,” Mykail shook his head. “Dana is pretty thorough with the gift experiments. How much contact does Clark have with the other experiments in the Commission?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “He said he goes there every day after school…”
Mykail groaned and rolled his eyes. “Then it could be anyone…”
“How many of the other experiments do you know?”
“Several,” Mykail admitted. “I probably know most, if not all, of the twenty-seven here, even if it’s just from rumor, but I don’t know their numbers…” he said, flipping to the last page. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “And whoever gave you these obviously knows me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whoever wrote this knows you are connected to someone who can read it…” Mykail explained.
“Do you recognize the hand writing?” I pressed. “Do you know if it’s someone we can trust?”
“It’s someone who knows that we can’t be caught with this information.”
He looked at me seriously, flipping to one of the pages.
“We’re starting to build the army,” he smiled. “Remember the map I drew you o
f the Commission? It’s time to start knowing who to possibly sneak out.”
“Already?” I blinked.
“Well, you need to get close enough to Dana to get back there, and then you need to find a way to leave without detection,” Mykail mused. “You have a meeting tomorrow, right?” When I nodded, he continued. “Do you have any idea how you’re going to handle Dana?”
“No…” I admitted. “I don’t know how to prepare myself for something like this. I…” I sighed. “I’m afraid of him.”
“Good,” he nodded. “You should be. He’s dangerous. Your fear will keep you on your toes.”
“I don’t know what to expect…”
“Are you sure you want to do it this way?” he pressed. “You don’t have to, you know. We can find another way.”
“What other way can you see?” I challenged. I could not stand what the Commission was doing, and the thought of someone as crazy as Dana in such a powerful office of our country caused me to shudder in understanding of the damage he could cause. I could not stand idly by and let the rest of my life be dictated. I could not let people like Mykail continue to suffer under the Commission of the People.
“I don’t like it,” Mykail shook his head.
“I know,” I nodded. “You and Clark have both told me how much you don’t like it, but we have no other choice, so why not use it to our advantage?”
Mykail stared at me and the amazing color of his piercing blue eyes caused my heart to flutter.
He reached forward and gently touched my jaw. The touch sent a spark through me and my body shivered. The brush of his soft fingers caused my hair to stand on end, and before I could stop it, a soft sigh escaped my lips.
In the short time we had been talking to one another, plotting our revolution, I had found myself more and more attracted to Mykail. Sometimes, I would not pay attention to what he said, but would just listen to his voice pass on his lips, or look at the way his eyelids gracefully lowered so that the fair eyelashes would brush against his skin. Each movement had become hypnotizing and each touch electric.
We were kissing again.
The world disappeared around me and I tentatively moved my lips against his, not entirely sure what I was doing. I felt our mouths awkwardly work together, our teeth hitting. Kissing was harder than it looked in movies.
The next thing I knew, my head was on a pillow and Mykail was lying at my side, his fingers playing over my cheek.
“What happened?” I asked, not remembering how I went from sitting to laying down.
Mykail’s amused smile took my breath away.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he chuckled. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted. When I stopped kissing you, you had a cute little smile on your face, but your eyes were still closed. Then you were unconscious. I don’t know if you were so tired and bored that you fell asleep, or if it was such a good kiss that you fainted.”
My cheeks were burning in embarrassment as he finished his explanation. I covered my face and turned away, appalled.
“Oh my God…” I groaned, so embarrassed I would rather curl up and die than face Mykail again.
“It’s alright,” he laughed, his hand now on my shoulder, trying to turn me back to face him.
“I am so embarrassed…” I mumbled. I peeked at him through my fingers. “Can you just say it was the latter?” I murmured. His grin widened.
“Of course. I would be flattered.”
He gently took my wrists and pulled my hands away from my face, pinning them on either side of my head as he leaned down, still smiling, and planted a long, warm kiss to my lips.
When he pulled away, I found it impossible to remember how to breathe.
“While you’re awake,” he said, “I should move you to your room. I was going to relocate you in an hour if you weren’t awake.”
“How long have I been out?” I asked in horror.
“About three and a half hours,” he answered. He climbed off the bed and offered his hand to me.
I got to my feet, still intensely embarrassed that I had passed out.
We tiptoed out of Mykail’s room and went to mine. He guided me to my bed, holding the covers up as I crawled under them.
He pulled the covers over me and gently took my hand.
“Get some sleep.”
“Mykail…” I called as he started to move away, my hand tightening around his involuntarily.
“What is it?”
“Stay with me until I fall asleep?”
The request sounded childish and right out of a cheesy romance film, but I wanted to be close to him. I wanted to lay beside him and have him there to protect me from the terrifying nightmares of Dana.
He squeezed my hand and moved to lay on his side, his wing extended over me as he took my hand again.
I turned on my side to face him, entwining our fingers.
“Thank you.”
“Rest,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
Chapter Twenty-Three
As a young child, Saturdays had been the best days of the week.
Now, they were the most dreaded days.
I woke up late that Saturday morning and, because of that, I was somehow conned into going grocery shopping with my mother. She liked to go marathon shopping, so, on our way to the supermarket, she saw a clothing outlet that she wanted to stop in.
“I think your father and I will be in Europe for about a month…” she said, talking about the trip she and Dad were not even sure they were going on yet. “Would you be alright on your own for a month?”
“Of course,” I assured yet again. “Is…uh, Mr. Christenson going, too?”
“No,” my mother shook her head, looking among the blouses on the rack. “Too dangerous for him to travel.”
“Does that mean…I would have to go to those meetings by myself?” I was horrified about being left on my own with Dana.
My mother paused, looking thoughtful.
“I don’t know…” she admitted. “We’ll ask tonight.”
My stomach turned over for the millionth time that morning.
“Hey, Mom?” I asked, pretending to look at the clothes.
“Hm?”
“What do you think of him?”
“Who?”
“Mr. Christenson,” I clarified. My mom hesitated for a split second before shrugging.
“I don’t know,” she answered nonchalantly. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious…”
“What do you think of him?” she turned the question back to me.
“He scares me.”
My mother nodded.
“That’s understandable,” she admitted. “But, you know, some people who are extremely smart are very different, and that can be scary.”
“Smart?”
“He has a different way of looking at things,” my mother continued. “If you really think about it, it’s a very clear way to see things. It makes sense.”
“Wait, what?”
“Lily,” she said slowly, placing her hands on the hangers and turning to look at me seriously, “he’s one of the most important men in the world. He is commander of the most powerful organization in our country. He has to be able to make decisions quickly and efficiently. To us, his judgments may seem rash, but he knows this world better than we do. He’s probably dealt with these things hundreds of times. He knows what he’s doing.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing you say this,” I gawked. “You’re defending him?”
“He doesn’t need defending,” my mom shook her head. “He does what he has to for the security of the country.”
“How can you say that?” I hissed. “After seeing what he does to people. What he did to Mykail…to Dad’s brother?”
“They were dangerous.”
“And that makes it okay?”
“Do you realize how fortunate you are that the Commission does what it does? Do you ever hear the stories about how things were before
the Commission? The Commission keeps us safe.”
“At what cost?” I growled. “People being tortured? Tested on? Made into weapons or killed?!”
“Will you keep your voice down!” my mother snapped. “You’re too young to understand. I was the same way, once. When I heard about the revolution, about all the people who were displaced, I was horrified. But…as you get older, you realize that sacrifices like that must be made for the greater good. Not everyone is equal.”
I stared at my mother in horror. My mother had always been driven and stubborn, but she had always been loving and caring, not just to the family, but to everyone she ever met.
And she was justifying Dana Christenson and the Commission of the People, even knowing everything that happened inside the institution.
“I’ll be in the car,” I whispered, my voice choked.
I ran out to the car and cried.
My mom returned with some new clothes about a half-hour after I stormed off. Even though I had stopped crying, my eyes were still puffy and red and I refused to look at her.
She tried to give me a lecture about how I would understand when I was older and had learned more and had more experience with the world. I told her I did not want to talk about it.
I did not speak to her as we finished shopping and bringing everything into the house. I finished what I was supposed to help her with, trying to avoid the worried, concerned eyes of Mykail, who was sitting in the living room watching silently. If I spoke to him, I would break down crying again.
So, as soon as I could, I went to my room, threw myself on the bed, and silently fumed.
I was furious.
A human was still a human, right? What was wrong with granting them the same opportunities to live? Why did people think that they were so different from one another? What gave us the right to decide who could live, die, or be tortured in the Commission? How could I accept that? How could my mother accept that? She was the one who taught me that I needed to respect and cherish others. Was that only to respect and cherish people that the Commission deemed safe?
How could the Commission deem anyone safe when the man leading it was the most dangerous man in the country?
I was not sure how long I remained on my bed, staring at the wall, fuming and grinding my teeth, but I was surprised to hear my father call to me, telling me we were going to be leaving in a half-hour.
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