Inside, Pt. 1

by Kyra Anderson

  * *** *

  Mark was waiting by the car after school. Since I was earlier than Clark, I felt a little awkward standing there in silence with the former experiment.

  “Good afternoon, Mark,” I said as I approached. He bowed his head. “How are you?” I asked on reflex.

  He lifted his head, but did not move otherwise until he cocked his head to the left, confused.

  “How are you?” I repeated, enunciating all syllables. I was sure he had been asked before, since it was a common courtesy question.

  Mark’s mouth opened and he nodded in realization before becoming flustered about how to respond. He lifted his hand and gave me a hesitant thumbs up with a small smile. The action was so innocent that, before I could help it, I laughed. His smile widened and he dropped his hand, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled silently, embarrassed.

  “What’s so funny?” Clark asked with a smile as he approached.

  “Nothing really,” I smiled. “I asked him how he was doing and he gave me a thumbs up. It was cute.”

  “He can be cute,” Clark agreed with a nod. “He has an innocent face.” He nodded to my hand. “How are your wounds?” I glanced down at my bandages.

  “Okay. They itch, but they don’t hurt.”

  “That’s good,” he nodded. “Are you ready?” he asked, looking between me and Mark.

  Mark opened the door to the backseat door.

  He drove us to the Commission of the People and we checked in as usual before going to the basement and finding a conference room to study in.

  “How was school?” Clark asked casually as we walked into the room, the lights flickering on.

  I hesitated as I put my backpack and purse down. I wanted to tell him about the confrontation at lunch, but I knew I could not discuss it in the Commission. I did not have any means of communication not monitored by cameras.

  “Oh, it was really tough, particularly Lit class,” I said. “We had a quiz on An Angel Without Wings, and I am just not seeing what Mr. Dermott is talking about. Can you help me?”

  The hesitation was clear on his face, hearing the hidden meaning in the request.

  “Sure,” he said finally, picking up his backpack and bringing it with him as he sat next to me. I saw his eyes flick to Mark, who was standing by the door, just outside the conference room, his back to us. “What do you need help with?”

  I faltered, still unsure how to hold the conversation. I hesitated before pulling out the electronic version of the book and clicking the screen to life, pulling out the note-taking pen.

  “I don’t really know…” I hissed. “I mean, we’re here,” I underlined a line in red.

  “We have people who want to help…”

  “Oh…okay…” His eyes were confused, asking me the question he could not say aloud.

  “I just can’t seem to grasp the content. You know, how the symbolism applies to real life and all…”

  I saw the gears click in his mind.

  “Okay.” He grabbed his copy of the book, opening it. “Here are my notes,” he said, scanning the page before underlining a word.

  “Who?”

  “But Dean said that it applied to the modern times as well as American history.”

  “Dean?” Clark repeated. “He’s not the best student. Maybe he misheard.”

  “Maybe…”

  “Have you read the newest assigned chapter?”

  “No.”

  “Tell you what,” he said, his voice uneven, “we’ll read the chapter and make different notes on it, and then compare.”

  I caught on quickly. I shifted in my seat so I could glance at his screen without moving my head, being sure he could do the same for my screen.

  Our silent conversation began.

  He wants to help? Clark underlined the words in the order he wanted to say them as he found them on the page. I did the same.

  He’s very angry.

  About the last meeting?

  Yes.

  He would be a strong ally, Clark admitted. He knows powerful people. What did you tell him?

  Nothing, I assured. I let him talk to the others.

  Others?

  There is a group.

  Who?

  Annoyed that Clark had asked me for specifics, I wrote each name in the margin.

  Felicity. Samantha. Ryan. Kayla. Kelly. Dean. Karmen. Trevor.

  What did they say?

  They were angry. They didn’t want to be controlled.

  What do you want to do?

  Maybe you can talk to them? You know them better than I do.

  I glanced up and let out a startled yelp, falling back in my seat. Dana was crouched outside the conference room, only his nose and eyes visible through the window above the half wall as he watched us in the conference room.

  Clark also jumped when he saw the unnatural golden eyes. Mark was still at his post by the door, and seemed not to notice the leader of the Commission lurking like a child outside the conference room.

  For several long moments, no one moved.

  When the initial shock passed I became confused.

  “Is he going to move?”

  “Who knows?” Clark said, his eyes also locked on Dana.

  “What do we do?”

  “Ignore him. He’ll get bored and either leave or come in.”

  Even though Clark said to ignore Dana, he was unable to move his eyes from the leader of the Commission of the People, just like me.

  I glanced a few times back and forth between Dana and Clark, and finally went back to my copy of An Angel Without Wings, trying to ignore the prickling over my skin.

  I tried to quickly—but nonchalantly—delete the notes I had made in the margins, but I was sure the action looked suspicious to the sharp eyes of the Commission leader.

  I saw Clark glance at his book as I moved my eyes along the words, listening for the door to the conference room to open.

  I dared not look up to confirm that Dana was still peering through the window.

  The door did finally open, and I looked up. Dana walked in, closing the door behind him.

  “Hey, kids,” he greeted with a smile. “How was school today?”

  Neither of us could respond, so we glanced at one another before staring blankly at Dana. He approached the table and placed both hands on the back of one of the chairs, leaning forward with a bright smile.

  “What? Why do you two seem so nervous? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” He looked suggestively over the two of us, a dangerous edge in his voice.

  “What would you be interrupting?” Clark took the task of answering out of my hands.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Dana sighed, sitting in the chair at the head of the table, putting his feet on the glossy table’s surface. “You can never trust what goes through the mind of a young man when he’s left alone with a young woman, especially a particularly beautiful young woman like Little Lily.”

  Dana studied his nails, uninterested.

  “For instance, it might start with a simple observation of how pretty her eyes are, or her lips, and before he can help it, that young man is thinking of how her features would look during a slew of lewd and perverted acts.” He pointed at Clark with a devilish smile. “See? Like just now.”

  “I was not thinking of anything like that!” Clark defended.

  “Yes, you were,” Dana chuckled.

  “Dana, we’re not alone,” I said sharply, pointing to Mark. Dana glanced in the direction I pointed and shrugged.

  “He’s a man like any other, Little Lily,” Dana told me. “Even though I fix the experiments, they still have urges.”

  I groaned and rolled my eyes, which made him chuckle.

  “You don’t approve,” he noted.

  “I don’t approve of most of the things you do.”

  “Why?”

  “Why would I approve?” I growled.

  “Because I am making the world safer,” Dana shrugged. “I am giving those people who
live out there,” he motioned his hand in the air to symbolize the American people, “a chance to live that old American Dream people used to rave about before the government began selling the bastardized version.”

  “By bringing in some of the people who are trying to achieve that same dream and mutilating them?” I growled. “What makes their dreams any less important?”

  “Oh, Little Lily, you are so young and idealistic,” Dana sighed, shaking his head. I tried to reign in my anger. “Everyone’s dream is important to them. And that’s the only person they care about when achieving their dreams.”

  “That’s not true…” I shook my head.

  “No?”

  “Friends and family care,” I told him, thinking of my father.

  “Oh, they do?” Dana challenged, taking his feet off the table and leaning forward. “So, your parents picking you up and moving you here was part of your dream? They knew that?”

  “It wasn’t my dream, it was my father’s dream, and because I love him, I was willing to make that sacrifice,” I said. With the way his eyes glinted, I knew I had his full attention and we were about to debate.

  “So, you have to sacrifice your dream for your father’s because you love him? Because half of him is inside you? Because he raised and protected you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you don’t really think he protected you well enough, do you?” Dana smirked. “Or you wouldn’t be here right now, is that correct?”

  I hesitated. It was no secret to Dana that I did not want to be in the Commission of the People, or anywhere near its leader.

  “I feel like no one could stop you if you want something, Dana,” I growled. “And I know you want my family here.”

  “You flatter me,” Dana chuckled, leaning back in his seat once again. “But I have a question for you, Little Lily. When you sacrificed for your father’s dream of coming to Central, doesn’t that mean that you feel your own dream is substandard in comparison to your father’s? That you believed his ambitions were more important because of some bond of familial obligation?”

  Again, I faltered. When he saw I was struggling, he continued.

  “Why did he not care about your dream?”

  “It wasn’t like that…”

  “Then how was it?”

  I stumbled, opening and closing my mouth uselessly, my tongue tripping over my teeth. Dana chuckled.

  “You can’t even answer.”

  “It’s not as though he completely disregarded what I wanted,” I defended. “He was elected.”

  “So, the people are using him as a means to an end for their own dreams, then,” Dana declared. “Electing someone who will give them what they ask for, something to make that struggle of life a little easier. Are their dreams more important than yours?”

  “How should I know? Maybe,” I admitted, getting angry with the debate that I was obviously losing. Dana snapped his fingers and pointed at me with a smile.

  “There you go,” he said. “You now realize that everyone’s dreams are not equal, even if it is of great or equal importance to each individual.”

  “It’s not my place to take anything from anyone,” I said, my voice raising. “If our dreams are all equal, then I have to work just as hard for it. I can’t cheat and steal from other people.”

  “But people have no problem doing that anyway,” Dana shrugged. “That’s all the government used to do. Give, give…give everyone their rewards without the work, and what happened? America became a land with a lazy, entitled population that screwed the other half of the population who would rather be given what others must work for.”

  “What if they are willing to work?”

  “If they were, I would have no need to take them in,” Dana said simply, his eyes wandering around the room. He was getting bored.

  “So, people who come from other countries don’t even have the option to work hard? They are denied the dream that used to make America the best country in the world?”

  “They have their own countries,” Dana groaned. He glanced at me sideways and sighed, rolling his eyes. “The world is a much smaller place than it used to be. Why do you think Gregory Altereye and his men are trying to find other planets to live on? We need to expand. But, until that point, people are going to need to work within their own country. It’s no longer the time where people can lead a country one direction, fuck it up, and then go to another one because it’s too difficult to fix their own. America did it with the Second Revolution. It’s messy, and it’s bloody, but it needs to be done in its own time to function properly.”

  “So, you’re saying that the system now is better? Taking people under cover of darkness? Mutilating them? Turning them into monsters? Killing them when they don’t turn out as expected?”

  “Look around next time you’re outside,” Dana said. “Look at the poverty line, and how low the crime rate is. Look at the rate of people unemployed, homeless, starving…we are leading the world in the happiest, healthiest population. We have not seen war since the Second Revolution. Overall, I would say this system is much better.”

  “So, the fact that the population doesn’t know what happens to the people the Commission takes in is not a factor?”

  “Oh, Little Lily, they know,” Dana chuckled brokenly. “Maybe not the specifics, but it is not difficult to figure out what happens. Why don’t they say anything? They don’t want to know. It’s too much on their conscious. They turn a blind eye because it’s a dark spot on their otherwise-perfect world. It interferes with achieving their dream.”

  “I think the people of America would like to know that the subjects of the Commission are being turned into weapons. If we’re not in war, why create human weapons?”

  “Preparedness,” Dana shrugged the question off. “And curiosity,” he added with a malicious grin.

  “Then that’s your dream? Make an ultimate weapon out of humans? And that’s important enough that you can justify killing all these people?” I snarled.

  Dana smiled wider. He was interested in the conversation again.

  “There is nothing to justify,” he grinned. “But you are starting to understand…”

  “So, what you’re saying is that you should be taken into the Commission as well? You said that no one was an exception to the rules, so that would include you also, right?” I felt proud being able to twist his words back on him.

  “I’m also working toward my dreams,” Dana smiled. He leaned forward once more, grinning wickedly. “I’m curious, Little Lily, what keeps you from taking what you want? What stops you from standing up for yourself, telling your parents that you refuse to move here?”

  “They’re my parents…”

  “No, forget societal influences and obligations. What stops you? You can ignore society, so why don’t you?”

  “Because it would hurt the people I care about and who care about me.”

  “Oh, those people,” Dana groaned. “They don’t see you as anything other than an obligation and a means to an end.”

  “That’s not true,” I shook my head. “If I took everything I wanted, I might have it, but then I wouldn’t have anyone around, and it wouldn’t be worth it in the end. It’s something that happens as you get older. Your whole view changes.”

  Dana smiled and pointed at me again.

  “Exactly. That is why the Commission exists. People would take what they wanted without regard for the people around them, causing harm to plenty of good citizens. The Commission took them and now everyone can work collectively to the benefit of the good citizens rather than trying to figure out what to do with the criminals and people who cause others pain.” Dana leaned back once more and folded his hands in front of him. “You can’t make an argument against the existence of the Commission. You said yourself that those people hurt others because they take what they want without regard.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question about you, though,” I growled. “You take what you want from people—fr
om society—without regard.”

  “No,” Dana chuckled, shaking his head, “people give me what I want. I don’t take it. I just make people want to give it to me.”

  “Then…doesn’t that make you much worse?”

  Dana shrugged.

  “No one has complained so far.”

  His phone buzzed and he groaned, annoyed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He stared at the screen for a moment before collapsing in the chair, his head rolling back and his hands falling uselessly to his lap.

  “Emergency meeting, kids,” he sighed, though he made no effort to move. “I must leave…”

  “What happened?” Clark asked, speaking for the first time since the debate started.

  “Leader Simon…” Dana grumbled, getting out of his chair with the lack of enthusiasm a child had when throwing a tantrum. He even stomped his feet as he moved to the door. “We’ll talk tomorrow…maybe…”

  He left. It was so abrupt and bizarre that I stayed still for several long moments before smacking Clark on the arm.

  “Ow! What the—”

  “Why did you just sit through that whole thing?!” I snapped.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say,” he mumbled. “I just…kinda freeze up when he’s around….”

  I sighed and closed my eyes, slumping back in my seat, exhausted.

  * *** *

  Clark and I were supposed to be working on homework, but after Dana left, we spent our time underlining words in our books to communicate. I told Clark about Dean and how angry the other Commish Kids were, as well as what they had said at lunch. He told me that he would have to keep a close eye on Dana’s calendar and try to plan around his meetings when to break into the records room and look up experiments.

  I went home turning too many thoughts over in my head.

  When I walked in the front door, my mother and father were waiting for me at the dining table. I stopped in my tracks when I looked over their stern expressions, feeling fear seep into me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We got a message from your school today,” my mother started.

  “What?”

  “You’ve failed two consecutive tests,” my father explained. I sighed, walking to the table and sitting, realizing I was in for a lecture. “Do you want to tell us what’s going on?”