I can hear his drawl the moment I enter my house.
“Jared,” I yell. I run into the living room and am a little confused when I see not only Jared, but also Blake and his sister, Leila. “Hey, you’re out. Thank goodness. How was training? You okay?” Jared has a guilty look on his face. Leila’s stroking his arm in a fashion that seems a little too intimate for my liking. She’s pretty, I think, but she and Blake don’t look much alike. She’s got long, straight dark hair, but small hazel eyes in contrast to Blake’s large emerald ones.
Jared responds with a half-cocked grin and, “I’m all trained. I never thought I’d get done, but then Brad Darcton came by yesternight with an interesting proposition for me. After weighing the alternative, I accepted.”
“What proposition?” I ask, glancing over at Blake, but he won’t even look at me.
“Kira, I’d like you to meet my Cleave, Leila. We did the whole Cleaving ceremony and feast at headquarters, and then they gave us a house a couple doors down from you,” he says. “We came over as soon as we, uh, made everything official.” Leila kisses him on the lips and both Blake and my eyes go wide. They apparently waited for me to arrive to drop the bomb. They Cleaved my little brother to Blake’s little sister? Can the Ten be Exiled for disregarding their own Canon?
“The kitchen. Now,” I scream. I don’t wait for him to obey, yanking him along with me. “You agreed to what?”
“It sounded a whole lot better than a bullet through my brain, Kira,” he says in a whisper. “I’m fine with it. Leila’s cool and you’re right that it’s better to go with the flow than face the consequences.”
“Uh huh,” I say, pacing the kitchen. My brother—Cleaved. At sixteen. Insanity. Brad Darcton gave him the option of a bullet in the head or Cleave Leila. If I maintained any hope of a future that didn’t involve Thera or the SCI, it just vanished. The only thing I don’t know is who my future will be tied to. I have to try again with Blake, but can’t with Jared and Leila here.
“Come on, Kira. Chill. Come get to know Leila. For me?” he says. “Hey, since you’re not Cleaved yet I bet I’ll make you an Aunt before you make me an Uncle.” He’s wrong about that. He’ll be an uncle 40 times over soon enough. The thought of my baby brother having kids makes me a little ill. He can’t even clean his room, do basic chores, or wake up for school on time. How can he possibly handle raising a child? Heck, how can any of my friends raise children? My children!
I return to the living room after making a pit stop to the bathroom to brush my teeth and freshen up, and I make nice with Leila for a half hour while Jared and Blake talk. Then Jared and Leila leave to have some more ‘alone time,’ which means I’ve got to smooth things over with Blake.
“Can we talk?” I say. He still won’t look at me, his eyes focused on a patch of garden on our wall with yellow sunflowers.
“How’s Ethan?” he says, still turned away. “Did you have a nice slumber party?”
“Ethan’s fine. Nothing happened, if you are curious. We just ate and played games. Slept in separate rooms. Had breakfast with his parents,” I say.
“Sounds like you’ll make a happy Cleaved family,” he says, his tone bitter, eyes narrow and brooding.
“I love you, Blake. If you recall, I offered to Cleave you and spend my life with you. I haven’t offered that to anyone else and you know what a big deal it is to me,” I say. I sit by him on the couch. “Please look at me.” He turns his head to me, but his look is sour.
“You’d Cleave with me—right here, right now?” he says.
It takes some effort to shove thoughts of Ethan out of my brain and say, “If you agree to have your sole focus to be on us and nothing else from here on out. Then, yes, I’ll Cleave you. Here and now.” I can see him struggle with my offer. He rubs his temples and I reach up and stroke his face with the back of my hand.
Moments later, he kisses me and then pushes me back on the couch. Takes off his shirt. Lies atop me. More passionate kissing—the most intense it’s ever been. I’m extremely nervous, not really ready, but knowing that I need to keep my word. To keep him alive. He starts to lift my shirt off and then abruptly stops. Did I hear a door slam?
“I’ve got to go,” he says. “I can’t do this.” Huh? That’s supposed to be the girl’s line.
“What’s wrong?” I say, but he’s already up and has his shirt on. “Blake, don’t leave. Why won’t you talk to me?”
“I just can’t commit to what you’re asking. Had we gone through with it, I would have ended up disappointing you by going back on my word. I love you, Kira. As best as I can. But as amazing as you are, I’ll never forgive myself if I’m not true to myself and what I believe in,” he says. “As much as it kills me to say it—I think Ethan’s the better Cleave for you.”
“You can’t mean that,” I say, tears filling my eyes.
“I’m sorry. That’s just where I’m at,” he says.
Lovely. Where does that leave me?
I arrive at SCI headquarters at ten to 2200 hours Thursnight. I’m a little nervous to see Ethan given the bomb I dropped on him at breakfast the other night and hoping he is in good spirits and can cheer me up. Blake’s barely been home since he rejected my offer to Cleave. When here, he’s been silent. It’s breaking my heart.
Ethan shows up precisely at 2200 hours.
“Hi,” I say. I’d hug him but his body language says he won’t be receptive. Hands in his pockets. Tense. Cold look on his face. Looks like he hasn’t slept in nights.
“Yeah, hi,” he says, distant and businesslike. I’m repelling all the men in my life. Before I can delve into which thing I did that pissed him off, Brad Darcton shows.
“Excellent. You’re both right on time,” he says, as if we’d dare be late. “Kira, I wasn’t sure you’d be here with all that Cleaving you’ve been trying to do with Blake lately.” Well, kudos on making things even more awkward, Brad. Of course, that’s his intention.
“That’s a bit of an overstatement,” I say. “Blake hasn’t spoken to me in nights.”
“Well, looking at it from his perspective… you stay overday at Ethan’s house and then come home and throw yourself at him. Those kind of mixed messages would be a huge blow to any guy’s ego,” he says. If he’s attempting to solicit a reaction, he’ll be sorely disappointed.
“I did what I thought was right to try to protect his life. And your interests, as requested,” I say. “My sales pitch failed.”
“Yes, didn’t he suggest that Ethan would be a better Cleave for you?” he says. Ethan shoots his father a glare so cold that Brad must have brain freeze.
“Ethan’s not happy with me either. Do you have a plan C for the Father of Thera?” I quip. “I should have some more viable eggs left.”
“I’ll make note of your willingness to provide more offspring. In the meantime, let’s proceed with our tour,” he says. Unwise to plant ideas in his head, but they’d do it whether I agreed or not.
Brad leads us into headquarters and facilitates an express route through security. He then leads us into a multistory atrium of sorts that takes my breath away. A short overweight man signals Brad by waving a folder.
“You two stay here for a moment while I consult with a colleague,” Brad says. Fine with me. I want to take this place in. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen on Thera… maybe ever.
“You get to work here?” I say to Ethan. “This is incredible.”
“You offered to Cleave Blake?” he says. I guess he doesn’t want to discuss the stunning glass mosaic gardens that bring the atrium walls to life.
“Yes,” I say. “To keep him from proceeding with activities that will lead to his death. He’d prefer sticking to his plans than a life with me, however.”
“You said—that evening at breakfast—you have feelings for both of us. Is that true?” he asks. Why’s he so worried about my feelings when he’s declared that the only girl who will ever make him happy isn’t me?
“Yes, I sh
ouldn’t, but I do. I’m sorry,” I say, looking into his eyes. I watch as he swallows hard. I’ve been really jealous the last couple nights about his admission that he’s still in love with the other girl. And beating myself up over it for stupidly caring.
“Yet you rejected my kiss and said you just wanted to be friends?” he says.
“Just because I have feelings for you doesn’t mean I can act upon them, or that you should want me to given the fact you are in love with someone else. When you kissed me you were in love with someone else, and I can’t condone cheating. Plus, I had a relationship of sorts going with Blake and needed to figure out if that was going anywhere. I felt guilty enough pretending to be your girlfriend back on Earth, knowing what it must be doing to the other girl. Had things been different… had you not had someone else…,” I say. “But they aren’t different and anyway, you’re the one that suggested we stay friends. If you don’t want that, then tell me.”
“I came by to talk to you after my parents left—to talk about all the stuff you said at the breakfast table. Your front door was open. I knocked, but no one answered, so I came in. I saw you and Blake on the couch. Needless to say, I left right away,” he says. That explains the door slam I heard. I shake my head. Ethan must think I’m such a jerk—talk about a huge blow to a guy’s ego. No wonder he’s giving me the cold shoulder. But wait, he shouldn’t care. He loves someone else, I remind myself yet again.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry,” I say. “Obviously I’m an immature idiot and an excellent argument for raising the Cleaving age to 21 or higher. I’m just not equipped to deal with this.”
“I’m not sure any of us are equipped to deal,” he says, turning away from me. I feel guilty at what he saw and how much it hurt him. Why is this bothering him so much?
“Ethan, who’s the girl you are in love with?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” he asks. I can see the nerves kick in as he shoves his hands in his pockets and starts rocking.
“Because you’re confusing me,” I say. “You tell me that you love this other girl so much that you’d do anything for her, yet you are upset that I haven’t acted upon my feelings for you. The way you look at me and flirt with me… how can you do that when you love someone else? You say you aren’t that guy who’d ever cheat or convince someone else to cheat. But you are being that guy. Every moment we spend together you’re that guy. So who is she?” He throws his hands up in air and rolls his eyes, before settling his hands on my shoulders.
“Do I really need to answer that? Isn’t it obvious? Wasn’t it obvious the first time we met? How can you not know? I never said it was anyone else,” he says, staring into my eyes.
Oh. Holy crap. It’s me. What an idiot I am. I can’t help it but my mouth and eyes go wide.
“I wasn’t even supposed to talk to you that night,” he mumbles. He shakes his head and walks off a few feet. I’m having trouble processing this.
Before I can discuss it with Ethan, Brad returns and tells us the history of the glass mosaics. I attempt to listen to try to get my mind off Ethan and what I’ve done to him. I’m not sure I can ever fix the mess I’ve made. Ethan won’t even look at me. How could I have been so stupid? It should have been obvious all along; it certainly is now. The SCI needs to revamp their tests. If they thought I was good at puzzles and problem solving they were dead wrong.
Brad tells us that it took two-dozen artisans more than ten years to complete and represents the garden of Hadrian and Helina—where the first Cleave occurred. Now, every Cleaved couple has their feast in this very spot and is sworn to secrecy to keep the experience fresh and new for every Cleaved couple. Well, except for me. And Ethan. And Blake, since I know he’s been in the building with Ted’s passkey.
From the atrium, Brad leads us through a series of turns until we arrive at a familiar hallway where Blake and I took our field trip to the Garden City model.
“Kira, I thought it was time I introduced you to the whole of Thera. You need to understand the importance of the Second Chance Institute, how far reaching our program is, and why you are so vital to it,” Brad says. He’s going to let us see all the cities? Cool! I watch as he signals four different people to use a combination of passkeys and codes on floor panels. The moment deserves to be celebrated with my best friend, but Ethan’s still shunning me and my heart aches for him.
And then the walls on either side of us lift and give way to a sight more spectacular than the glass mosaics in the atrium. In every direction there are full-scale city models—every one completely different from the other. One city has spindly skyscrapers. Another appears to be completely underground. A third has been built entirely of white and blue marble and a fourth of jeweled glass. One city looks like it has thousands of ‘pods’ made of shells and cement. A very mysterious city is surrounded by mirrored walls.
“It would take weeks to explore every city,” Brad says. “Tonight we’ll just take the moving sidewalk from one end to the other so you can get an idea of the diverse nature of the Theran landscape.” He motions us to step onto the walkway, which we do.
“Why is every city so different?” I ask, watching the models while we converse. I don’t want to miss anything, even though I’m having trouble absorbing it all with my mind on Ethan’s revelation. I keep shifting my attention from the cities to Ethan, but Ethan still refuses to look at me.
“Excellent question. Each city has a unique personality—from landscape to people to government to architecture. We track best practices from each city,” he says.
“How so?” I ask. “That sounds complicated.”
“We have quarterly meetings with all the city heads here at headquarters. In fact, the next one is next Monnight and Tuesnight. The first night we will discuss and record good practices from each area, and the second night we will meet with top government officials from Earth to share our findings,” he says.
“How do Earth’s officials use the information?” I ask in a very professional manner as if I’m representing a non-existent Theran newspaper.
“We give them ideas for new legislation and effective methods to manage diverse groups of people, with obvious goals of reducing crime, increasing productivity, and personal accountability for citizens,” he says.
“So the folks back on Earth can expect to be Cleaved or face Exile?” I ask.
“No, but perhaps there should be accountability for premarital relations to try to ratchet morality back up. And an adaptation of the Circle of Compliance could be useful so citizens know whether they’re in good standing or not—especially if they know the better they act, the more influence they’ll have on society’s rules. But those are minor thoughts in the grand scheme of things. We get hundreds of ideas from other cities. We create systems that work for Theran citizens, but obviously change must happen in degrees back on Earth,” he says.
“From my interviews with your Recruiters who match Recruits to cities I can tell that some of the city governments would be considered pretty extremist back on Earth. Are the Theran citizens in those cities happy and well cared for?” I ask. His theory only works if the quality of life is good for everyone.
“We take care to place Recruits and Second Chancers where they’ll have the best experience. Some people need more structure than others. Others need nurturing environments. So yes, we like to think that our citizens overall are much happier than those on Earth,” he says.
“Interesting,” I say. I’m not sure I agree or condone the extreme actions the Ten take to protect their secrets, but at least I understand better how the Theran government works and why they want and need people to travel between the two worlds. I wonder why Brad Darcton trusted us with this information. Blake’s dad and his Militant Exiler gang would kill to know that all the city heads would be here next week.
We continue down the walkway in silence. Ethan shifts closer to me and presses his arm against mine, but he still won’t look at me. We watch the bizarre scenery while lea
ning against the handrail. A floating city built on giant pylons with marshy land underneath. Farm City with no visible residences above ground—only farmland. And in what seems to be the very center of all of it, there’s a large, two-story circular platform with dozens of long, narrow tubes emanating from each level in every direction. It almost looks like two giant bicycle wheels laid atop one another, with the tubes being the spokes of the wheels.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“That’s the secret source of our power and reason we’ll never be defeated,” he says with a smirk. “But, I think I’ll leave it undefined for now other than to say it helps us with resource allocation and management.” It reminds me of something, but I can’t quite place what.
Our moving walkway circles the spokes, but a close-up view gives no additional clues to its purpose. Beyond it, I see a triangular city with what looks like large manmade canals through it—like Venice on steroids.
“Let me guess—Import/Export City at the Bermuda Triangle?” I say.
“Yes,” Brad says.
When our tour concludes I’ve counted at least thirty distinct cities, though I may have missed some.
“Are all the cities represented here?” I ask.
“Not all,” he says. “We’re always expanding and the models take a considerable amount of time… and real estate to build.” He finishes out our tour and then we retrace our steps back through the headquarters building. Once back out, Brad reminds us to keep our mouths shut about what we’ve seen and leaves us.
“We need to talk,” I say to Ethan. “Really need to talk.” He cups my face in his hands, rests his forehead and nose against mine. It’s impossible to be this close to him, knowing how he feels about me, without having my feelings bubble to the surface. No matter how hard I try to shove them to the back of my mind—for Blake’s sake, not my own.
“Not now,” he says. “I have plans. But we’ll talk soon.” He leans in to kiss me, but instead plants one on my cheek after grazing my lips with his. I stand there for a long time watching him walk away. He turns once and stares for a moment, but then vanishes around a corner and I feel completely and horribly alone.
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