Eternity (Memory's Children Book 1)

by Clay Gilbert

  “Do you ever get scared, Angel?”

  “Scared of what?”

  “Scared you’re gonna be different one of these days. That you won’t care so much about the things you used to.” “Sometimes. Mostly I don’t think about it. I just believe in what I believe in—and who—and that’s pretty much it. Seriously, baby, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know what to do sometimes. Sometimes I feel like Ishouldn’t even behere, like I’m just astupid kid. Ace never should have died.”

  “You make it sound like he had a choice,” Angel laughed. “Yeah, I know. I just wish he was still here.”

  “You can’t let Ace rule you, Eternity. You’re the leader. He’s gone. They can’t stop you—not you. I know that. If you can know it, too, they’ll never stop you. Whatever happens, whatever happens to us, I’ll be there with you, right to the end.”

  “I love you, Angel.”

  “That’s what scares them the most.”

  “It scares me, too, but you know what? At least I know I’m living, and that’s what we’re fighting for. That’s what this is all about.”

  “Come back to bed and remind me what living feels like.” * * * *

  It was dark inside the Towers.

  Just like old times, Jude thought. He found the computer bank that he’d searched that first time. ACCESS RECORDS, he typed.

  IDENTIFY, the system requested.

  Jude typed in his name—the one he’d gone by in the City. CLEARANCE GRANTED.

  No voice check? Anyone could get in. They’re not running a very tight game.

  All the Providers’ records—everything they knew and kept secret—were open to him now.

  REBELLION, he typed. RECENT BACKGROUND. A photograph of a man he recognized as Ace filled the screen. “Ace,” a tinny voice intoned, as if in confirmation. “Priority-one threat. Must be eliminated. The people must be made to fear him.”

  They killed him. Even if they didn’t do it by their own hands. The domes—the Citizens—who killed him were brainwashed.

  REQUEST MORE DATA. This time the images were ones Jude himself recognized— scenes from the screencasts that aired in the City on the day of Ace’s death. Jude’s feelings that day had been completely different. He hadn’t seen how completely self-motivated the Providers were, how determined to preserve their ways at any cost. Most of all, he’d believed they were right.

  REBELLION. COROLLARY DOCUMENTATION.

  Who knows what information they’ve got? The whole history of the rebellion might be in here.

  DETAINED was the word that met his eyes, the word that froze his thoughts, and below that, a list of names. These are the victims. These are the casualties no one knows about—that no one will ever know about, unless we win this war. He searched the list, hoping he wouldn’t see his parents’ names.

  He found them anyway. They were the last on the list. How? he wondered. How could they have known? Had things gotten this much worse since he left? Or has it always been like this, and I just didn’t know? The cold reality of the situation descended on him like a sharpened scalpel, cutting away the part of his life lived in silence and security. My parents are dead.

  “Detained,”he knew, was just a word. Theywere gone. He’d been hasty, had run without a thought for their welfare. Now they’re gone. Because of me.

  No, he reminded himself. Because of Them. “I’m sorry,” he apologized aloud, to no one, and to his parents, and to every one of the disappeared on that list who hadn’t been saved before it was too late.

  Jude looked at the list, and, tearing a sheet of paper from a record book beneath the computer bank, wrote down the rest of the names.

  How many of these, he wondered, had family in the Forgotten City? How many of us just ran, leaving the ones we loved behind?

  Hethought of the ones who, it was believed, lived in the very place in which he stood. He found himself wanting, as before, to go to the top of the Towers and end it. End Them. But something more than fear held him back this time.

  If it’s just my life, I can stand to lose it. Just the thought of paying back his parents’ deaths would be enough to make it worthwhile. But it’s not just me. Everyone in the Forgotten City depended on him now—and everyone in the City who disagreed with the way things were, and lived in fear they’d be found out. How many might suffer if he were discovered, and linked to the rebellion?

  Who knows how long this list might be then? He tried to imagine Eternity’s name, or Angel’s, or Brain’s, on the list. I can’t let that happen. For now, he’d return to the Forgotten City and pass on what he learned. These names will be remembered, he thought, tucking the list into a pocket of his coat, and I will be back.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Eternity.” Jude’s voice was muffled through the door. “Just a minute, man.” Eternity had been awakened only a short while before by the sound of the transceiver bearing Jude’s call. “I’ll be out in a minute. Angel’s still asleep, but we can go into the council room.” He stepped out of the bedroom and led Jude down the hall. “Alright,” Eternity said, when the door to the council room was closed behind them. “What’d you find?”

  “Names,” Jude said. “A list of everyone who’s disappeared . A hit list, I think. They’re trying to make it seem like we’re taking people from the City. But really it’s just all the ones they’ve gotten out of the way.”

  “The list—do you have it with you?”

  Jude nodded.

  Eternity read down the list of names, many of them familiar, although he couldn’t place exactly where he heard them or to whom they belonged. A shock of recognition hit him when he found the names of Angel’s parents.

  When Eternity reached the end, Jude pointed at the last two names. “Mine,” he said. “I—I—” Eternity began, but Jude cut him off.

  “Don’t. It was my fault. If I’d only stayed, if I hadn’t left— ”

  It was Eternity’s turn to interrupt. “You’d be dead too. You can’t change it now, but the others—the closet rebels—the ones they haven’t got to yet. There has to be another list. We have to find it—and them.”

  “I know,” Jude said quietly. “I know I have to go back.” Eternity clasped Jude’s hand “It’ll be okay, man. We’ll get ‘em. You’ll see. We’ll make ‘em pay.”

  “I know,” Jude said. “I know.” When Jude was gone, Eternity slipped back into the bedroom, crawled under the covers, and took Angel gently into his arms.

  “I wasn’t asleep,” she said.

  “I figured.”

  “My parents—were their names—”

  “You know they were.”

  “I always thought they had a list, but I wasn’t sure.”

  “Two lists, Jude thinks. And we’re going to track down some of the ones they haven’t taken out yet. See if we can get ahead of their game a little bit.”

  “Pretty one-sided war,” Angel said.

  “For now,” Eternity replied. “Just for now.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Go to the Oldtimers. See if any of them know about the other list—or the one we have.”

  “Come with me?” “Can’t. I have to see Brain. We’ve gotta find a way to jam the power to the City, just to stop them tracking us, and from spreading any more lies around. I’ll give you a ride to Oldtimer Town though.”

  * * * * Eternity and Angel didn’t speak as the hovercycle carried them over the Forgotten City toward the Oldtimers’ settlement, but there was no need.

  She knows me so well, he thought, savoring the sensation of her arms wrapped around his waist, her fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket, her hair, blown for a moment in the breeze, brushing his cheek. She believes in me. Maybe even more than I believe in myself, and I feel the same way about her.

  They weren’t supposed to need anyone but those who would Provide. Weren’t supposed to love anyone or anything but the City that kept them from the darkness of whatever lay Beyond.

  That’s what t
he thoughtfeeds told us. Even parents were just surrogates to a child of the City, mere caretakers doing a service to the state. The City is your mother. The City is your father—and we are your gods.

  The memories of their voices, of their lies in his mind were so distant they might have been a dream. But there were many still left who didn’t even realize there was a choice to be made.

  Would it make a difference if they had something else to believe in, and if they knew someone else believed in them? The hovercycle touched down outside Sentinel’s shop with the grace of a hawk coming to rest at its eyrie. Men had learned to build beautiful machines, it was true, but in the learning, had they begun to become just that?

  Eternity put out his hand to Angel, who was already nearly to the ground. “I’ll pick you up back here,” he said. “Okay?” She smiled. “Sure.” She pulled him close, kissed him, held the embraceforamoment, and as their fingers slipped nearly free of one another, she clasped his hand as she’d seen him do with so many others. “Safe journey,” she said.

  He nodded back. “You too.” Then he was aloft again, his cycle bound for Crown Avenue and Cortex Vortex. * * * *

  “Brain, man, you here?”

  Eternity pushed past the streetriders in the dark, neon-lit arcade, making his way toward the glass doors separating Brain’s office from the rest of the place. The door slid open after a moment, and Eternity stepped inside.

  “Eternity!” Brain called, jumping up from the terminal he’d been scrutinizing and greeting his friend with a hug. “What brings you ‘round here today?”

  “I could use some help. Jude found a list of people tied to us in the computer banks at the Towers. I need to know how they’ve traced us and how we can stop it. Also, if you Undergrounders have any info on the list, or know anything else we can use against them.”

  “Will do, man. You’re talking to the Brain here, y’know,” he grinned, tapping his bald head with one finger. “Thanks. That’s what I was counting on.”

  “Listen,” Brain said, “If there’s anything else I can do—I mean, I know it’s been rough for you since Shadow died.” “Thanks,” said Eternity, and walked back into the street in silence. He made his way down Crown Avenue, and nearly before herealized it, he was at the Prophet’s place. Hehadn’t meant to come here, but there was time.

  The ancient holohouse no longer filled Eternity with the sense of foreboding it had when he first visited the Prophet with Brain, but as he stepped through its doors into the huge lobby with its high, arched ceilings and endless cycling holographic displays caught in endless loops above their black pedestals, Eternity could not help being awed once more bythe majestyof the place. Hefelt its historybreathing in the halls as he walked them only a few nights before. History, and more. The Prophet might have been looking for a place to hide when Ace gave him the theater to use as his own, but he transformed it into a place of true vision.

  Maybe that’s what it always was, and he just removed its veil. “Eternity,” said the Prophet, stepping out from behind the doors of the main auditorium. “Good to see you again, man. I’ve been expecting you.”

  He looks better—a lot better. His eyes had lost their hollow stare, and shone now with an infectious exuberance. His body would probably never be entirely as it once was, but it had begun to repair the damage the drugs had done.

  “Thanks,” the Prophet said. “Yeah, I haven’t taken a dose since that night you and Angel were here, and the Sight’s only gotten stronger.”

  He’s reading minds now, too, Eternity observed. Who knew how far his abilities might reach, once he had the chance to explore them, unhindered?

  “So, what’s going down?” the Prophet wanted to know. “I want to know what you know about Them. What can you see? Is there anyone on their side who we could get to join us? Is there a way we can reach them?”

  “Come on in and sit down.” Eternityfollowed the Prophet into the huge main auditorium, seating himself in one of the upper tiers. The Prophet sat down beside him, closed his eyes, and the golden glow that always accompanied the Sight now burst behind his eyelids, then seemedto settle in a shower oflight, like stardust. When his field of sight was clear, the Prophet saw the nightscape of the Black City before him. A skycar soared high, alone above the Towers.

  “What do you see?” Eternity asked.

  The Prophet said nothing, onlyholding up a hand for silence. His eyes stayed closed. Sweat now shone on his brow. Jude. It’s Jude, he thought. Jude was alone on the skycar, and his face was grave. Can I reach him? Is the Sight that strong? Then, suddenly, he could feel the presence of Jude’s mind inside his own.

  Frustration—he hasn’t been able to find the other list. Too deep inside the system. There’s a code—a code he couldn’t find. Not in the records. And the closet rebels—they were there, in the City. But how would he find them?

  “What do you see?” Eternity asked again. This time, the Prophet put his hand to Eternity’s forehead. Eternity started to pull away, then relaxed, closing his eyes as the Prophet himself had done.

  Eternity’s heart raced as the visions washed over him, the sea of information and impressions almost overwhelming. The visions were sights, it was true—but they were words and sounds and thoughts as well.

  When he knew it was over, the Prophet removed his hand from Eternity’s forehead.

  “Is that as far as you can see?” Eternity asked. “What about the people Jude’s looking for? Do you know where they are?”

  The Prophet shook his head. “Don’t need the Sight for that. They’re in hiding, like us. They’re afraid, like us—afraid of Them. They’re all over the City, man—not just one place, but they’re still a minority. They need a leader. Someone to do for them what you’ve done for us.”

  “Can we do it?” “Not ‘we’, man. Its Jude’s cross to bear. We got enough to worry about with us and our people. When he gets them together, it’ll be all your show. ‘Til then, that’s all I’ve got.”

  “Thanks, man,” Eternity said. He shook the Prophet’s hand, then made his way out into the sunlight, glad to be free of the shadow of visions, if only for a time.

  * * * * Eternity climbed the steps up to Sentinel’s shop and rang the door-chime. He could have waited for Angel outside, but he heard his parents would be visiting, too.

  “Come on in, Eternity,” Sentinel welcomed him. “Angel’s upstairs.” Eternity could hear voices and laughter from the attic room by the time he was half way up the stairs. He smiled as he heard first Angel’s voice, then his mother’s, then finally, his father’s. He slipped inside, tryingnot to disturb them. Angel, seated on the floor with her back to him, didn’t see him at first, but his parents caught sight of him right away, and got up to greet him.

  “Eternity!” his father called. Eternity smiled, and then Angel turned to him, her eyes shining. “Sit down,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him down beside her on the floor. “Theywere telling me just now about—well, about everything!” She laughed, a merry sound that made Eternity break out in a grin of his own.

  Eternity’s father seated himself, and started to speak again. “Angel told us you wanted to know about a list—a list of people theywant out of the way. We’d never heard of it. The idea made sense, but as far as specifics, we hadn’t heard anything. Then Sentinel—”

  Just then, Sentinel returned to the room. “Did I hear my name mentioned?” he asked, smiling because he already knew the answer.

  “Indeed, you did,” Eternity’s mother said. “Can you tell Eternity what you told us about—about the list?” She gave no more detail than that, but no more was needed.

  “That. Well, yes. When I first left Their service, I heard stories about the list of the disappeared—a list kept under code in the terminals of the City’s computers and used as, ostensibly, a plan of vengeance against the rebels everyone assumed to be responsible for the deaths. Publicly, they called it The Roll of the Remembered. I’m often reminded, now, as then, how matters hav
e many faces when the Providers are concerned. It’s quite likely the second list is part of the same file, locked under the same code.

  “But the list Jude found wasn’t under code. That must be the Roll of the Remembered, but there’s a second list. The names of those they haven’t got to yet. Maybe that’s the coded one—the one Jude needs.”

  “I should tell you, Eternity, the dance of the masks is deeply ingrained in their ways. Nothing is simple. When I came to serve, I believed there was only one set of guards, and that service was voluntary. I’ve come to believe that’s not true— in either case.”

  “It’s not. Jude was part of the inner guard, and even he doesn’t know the code. So there’s no way to know how deep this goes.”

  “I don’t have the answer, either. I heard of the list, and that’s all.”

  Eternity shook his head. “Thanks, though, Sentinel. We appreciate you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Angel,” Eternity said, “we should be heading back. You ready?”

  The auburn-haired girl stood, smoothed the white cotton dress she wore, and nodded. “We’ll see you out,” Eternity’s father said, and he and his wife descended the stairs behind Eternity and Angel. His parents hugged each of them in turn.

  As Eternity and Angel started down the steps toward their ‘cycle, Eternity’s mother called to them. “Both of you be careful. They’re powerful, and we still don’t know how powerful.”

  “We will,” Eternity said. We’ll do the best we can. “What are we going to do?” Angel asked Eternity, leaning close so he could hear her. “We need those codes.” “I know. Maybe Brain and his people will turn something up. Or maybe Jude’ll get lucky. There’s nothing we can do but wait.”

  * * * * Jude was alone in the Towers. Frustration filled him. Again and again he tried to break the code, and every time, he failed. He’d had enough.

  I’ve failed everyone. My parents, first, and now Eternity and the rest of the Forgotten City.

  “What’s the damn passcode?” he cried aloud.

  “Nemesis,” a quiet voice said behind him. “You’re not Upper Level, are you?” Jude recognized the term. It meant the elite group of guards appointed to serve the levels of the Towers inaccessible to anyone else—the levels above the lobby level and below the top level—access to which was even further restricted. An Upper Level guard had to have been in service at the Towers for at least three years—a span of time deemed sufficient to judge loyalty—and had to be recommended for Upper Level service by an Upper Level guard. Such recommendations didn’t come lightly. Jude himself had onlyworked as a guard one year—since his eighteenth birthday—and so was ineligible for Upper Level assignment.