by Ann Bakshis
I hear old voices echo in my head.
An Antaean should show no emotion, no attachment to others, as they can be taken quickly.
I begin to recall the hours of emotional detachment training we endured as children at the Dormitories. How so often we were given something and then having it taken away. We would cry for hours and then they would give the object back to us, wait for us to get attached again, and then remove it once more. This went on for months until we finally refused to take the object.
I lift my head back up to see where we are going and spot two boards propped up on wooden stands at the end of the rows of cots. One board contains the body of Munera, her naked body exposed brazenly. The other is that of Aidan, face up, arms dangling down off the board. Two Levin gun blasts have ripped open his chest, disintegrating everything inside.
I thrash myself around, trying to get free from the two Regulators gripping my arms. The loss of another friend is too much. It’s my fault Aidan is dead.
Why does everyone around me die?
I want to break free and kill them all, but manage to only liberate myself from one as the other has a firmer grip on me. I look down at his hand and see an electronic pulse enveloping my left bicep. He is not physically holding me, but the small square device he’s carrying is. The other Regulator stands up then proceeds to punch me in the face as he enables his holding device.
We stop in front of the door at the end. Dr. Hersher opens it and proceeds to turn on the lights as the rest of us step inside. The lighting in here is much brighter. A glass partition breaks up the room; two circular machines sit on one side, display screens on the other. Dr. Hersher and Vladim each take a seat on the chairs in front of the screens, while the Regulators escort me around the partition to the other side.
I’m stripped naked and placed onto a cold metal slab that sticks out from a machine that’s labeled NMR. Thick leather straps are fastened to both my ankles and wrists. I surreptitiously test their strength, but I can’t break through them.
The Regulators leave the room when the lights go off. The machine roars to life as I slide inside. I look at lights blinking above my head. The noise emanating from the device grows louder causing me to panic. I’m terrified I’ll be crushed any moment. My heart races, my breathing quickens, and my arm tingles.
I’m going to die!
The Quantum Stream begins to glow brighter the louder the machine gets. I try and wriggle my right hand out of the restraints, but only manage to move the restraint further up my arm.
Twisting my arm backwards causes me great pain. I place my right hand onto the smooth metal of the machine and try to push the Quantum Stream out of my palm, but it doesn’t work as I don’t have any real connection to the instrument.
My arm is growing hotter, the light is almost blinding.
I’m going to explode!
I try and move my hand along the wall to see if I can locate some kind of flaw to exploit. My wrist cracks and my hand goes limp, but with adrenaline pumping I don’t feel the pain. It begins to heal as the machine begins to wind down. The lights come back on in the room and I slide back out, unstrapped from the table, and handed a red robe. I tighten it around my waist as two Regulators lead me back around the partition.
“Trea, you’re perfectly healthy for an eighteen year old,” Dr. Hersher begins. “Your level of Quarum is higher than it should be, but that’s okay as it will improve your healing ability. As for the Quantum Stream you have in your right arm, it appears to have latched onto every cell in your body, as it should have. It’s probably only visible in your arm because of the accident you had with the Levin gun. This is most beneficial due to the design of the weapons Devlan has no doubt trained you on. With additional training and the proper device, I believe you should be able to manipulate and control the stream without any external prop needed.”
“How?” I ask, as ideas flood my mind.
“You will be able to control the energy…have it work however you wish. Influence electrical barriers with a single touch, for example.”
I smile inside, as they have just given me a way to escape.
Chapter 12
I’m taken back to Artemis’ place. The whole floor is completely deserted and I’m warned by Vladim that the code on the elevator has been changed, so I won’t be able to leave the top floor. Only he and Dr. Hersher know the code.
I go to my room, change out of the robe, and into blue shorts with a matching top. A fresh meal is sitting on the island in the kitchen for me, so I take the plate and go into the entertainment room to see what is on the displays.
“Tyreans, don’t miss the exciting event tomorrow as we demonstrate to all of Sirain that we have successfully rescued an Antaean.” The male announcer says on the screen directly in front of me. Flashes of me killing Munera run in a loop behind him. “Be there early as seats will fill up fast for this historic occasion.”
I roll my eyes as I take a bite of the salmon filet.
The announcement is made every fifteen minutes on all channels. I scroll through the menu of available shows to watch, but nothing catches my eye, so I stay on the one I’m currently watching. Other announcements are made periodically throughout the evening including one warning the Tyreans that the Laics have a Work Free Day approaching.
“Be mindful of your children and belongings as the Laics will be free to travel between the Boroughs. If I were you, I’d stay home so not to be caught up in their crooked ways.”
An hour later a bulletin comes across all three screens. The man perched in front of the camera is frazzled and slightly out of breath.
“We’ve just been notified that a Nuceiran has been apprehended this evening trying to sneak into Tyre by way of deception. The woman made it as far as the Superior Towers before finally being confronted by Regulators. She was killed on site clutching copies of the Nuceira treatise and photos of the Antaean known as Trea.”
The screen switches to display the photos of me, one inscribed with Death to the Abomination.
“I didn’t ask for this!” I scream, tears of frustration and pain falling.
I pick up the glass I had been drinking from and throw it, cracking the monitor glass.
“Regulators have stepped up security measures at the stadium as well as the exchanges. Many citizens are wondering how a Nuceiran made it that far into Tyre, as they are distinguishable due to the religious symbol emblazoned on their arms.” Another photo flashes across the screen showing the top half of a cross with a point at the bottom, colored white and inlayed in a silver circle, white flames licking the bottom of the point. The marking on the woman was shimmering, almost alight even as she lay dead.
I switch off the screens, go into the kitchen to place my dishes in the sink, and get a drink of water. Walking into the front room, glass in hand, I pull one of the plush chairs closer to the windows, looking down at the stadium, its roof wide open. Workers are busy hanging colossal banners inside and out with the symbol of Tyre blazing across them. The sizeable monitors both inside and outside the stadium are also showing the symbol, but then cut away to my face showing my name and the time of the big demonstration tomorrow. My stomach begins to ache as the weight of what tomorrow means begins to sink in.
Gone are the days of running my course in the Wasteland, of sitting out in the desert just before dark watching the stars come out, of being no one.
Setting my glass down, I wander back to my room, crawl under the covers, and close my eyes.
I don’t get much sleep, my nightmare from the Dormitories consume me.
The screaming in my head wakes me so I decide to go and watch as preparations continue at the stadium. Cameras are outfitted into every aisle, seat, and corner of each section. They test each angle of the cameras on the monitors dangling both inside the stadium as well as outside, making sure not one moment of action will be missed. Regulators stand guard at all the exchanges, pedestrian crossings, and stadium entrances. I find myself growing tire
d, and shut my eyes.
I wake up again around six and eat a small breakfast that I prepare myself. A young woman with pale hair and skin rises in the elevator, handing me my outfit for the demonstration, which is a standard fighter’s uniform. She hesitates slightly in leaving, but the device on her wrist begins to beep loudly and rapidly, causing her to quickly run to the elevator and depart. I walk over to the windows and watch as lines begin to form outside the arena, winding over the bridges that cover the shuttle rails, down the concrete sidewalks, and around each building.
“You need to get ready,” I hear Vladim say behind me. I didn’t hear him come in.
I glare at him but swallow my pride, go to my room, don the outfit, and put my hair up before taking a hard look at myself in the mirror, not caring for the reflection. I put my fist through the glass, shattering it all around me, not bothering to pick up the pieces. The shards in my hand are forced violently from my flesh by my healing.
“Ready, Trea?” Vladim says to me as I rejoin him by the elevator.
“Yes,” I say, as we step onto the lift and descend.
The High Ruler’s shuttle is the only one currently in the garage. All other traffic has been diverted and no one is around except for his private security, who have a different uniform than the normal Regulators. As the shuttle pulls away from the Letchworth, Vladim hands me a red cloth bag. I reach inside and pull out a small black glove. I study the item and notice the covers for the fingers have been removed, and the center of the glove has a flat silver finish. The material looks metallic, but feels soft.
“What is it?” I ask, as I slip it onto my right hand.
“Our engineers have been up all night working on this. The silicone section in the middle of the glove will allow you to transmit the Quantum Stream to anything you touch. You no longer need a port to grip on to. The designers decided to go with silicone instead of metal due to the detectors that surround every building and entrance in Acheron, which will be our destination tomorrow.”
I try and recall the layout of the holding area and the Care Room picturing the lifts as they are housed. I close my eyes to better concentrate, only vaguely recalling a door at the far right of the Care Room marked Emergency Exit. I don’t know where it leads, but it seems the best chance I have.
We arrive under the stadium, but are directed to an alternate entrance, one only the High Ruler uses. The shuttle stops and I exit first, followed by Vladim. He leads me up his private elevator, to a special holding area, away from the rest of the fighters. He nods and returns to the lift, going up to his private box. Two attendants approach me, each holding various weapons. I attach a Levin gun to the right side of my belt and grip the Dimachaerus in my left hand. They step away as the announcer begins his speech about triumph over Acheron and Nuceira due to the fact that Tyre is the first to have located one of four Antaeans. The mystery of why they don’t know about Quintus remains.
“Yes, we have been anticipating this moment for the last sixteen years and now we get to finally see what our many sacrifices have been made for. Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s my honor to introduce you to Trea, Antaean Number Three.”
The floor below me begins to rise as the ceiling above parts. The lights have been turned off, leaving only one spotlight shining on me as I emerge onto the arena floor. The applause is deafening. I don’t wave, but stand poised for battle, which seems to excite the crowd, causing an uproar of triumphant, joyous shouts. I hop off the platform before it descends, the floor tiles moving back into position. The shields around the arena rise all the way up to the closed roof. This is something new, and I get the feeling I’m not going to like the reason for it.
The ground begins to tremble as a large section of the floor to my left lowers, then I hear the mechanisms of the floor groan as they attempt to lift the object. Since I’m standing in the center of the arena, I side step to the right and begin to walk backwards, not daring to turn my back on whatever is rising from beneath. The round metal top appears first, followed by huge red eyes. I know instantly what I’m fighting, but I’m overwhelmed by its size.
The battle droid in front of me is one I’ve never seen before. It stands several stories high, thick heavy metal encasing its body. The eyes are what I’m most concerned about. The eyes of a battle droid are usually black, devoid of color. This one has bright red eyes that dilate and contract as if it’s thinking. I try to reflect back to Devlan’s workshop and hazily remember seeing a set of these eyes lying around in the pieces of scrap.
I grip the Dimachaerus in both hands, feeling my arm begin to twinge and heat up. As I squeeze my right palm against the handle, a blue energy wraps around each blade, interlacing like a river. The droid stands there, staring at me, perhaps waiting for me to make the first move. The audience begins to chant my name. I decide to take the initiative and lunge at the monster, raising the Dimachaerus as I throw my body forward into the air. Its eyes narrow at my approach; it lifts its right arm and knocks me sideways into the barrier.
I scream at the pain I know is coming, but I’m not badly hurt. The clothing I’m wearing has deflected the energy. I shake my head and get back on my feet as the droid advances, a larger-than-life Dimachaerus high above its head.
I stand and wait until it’s practically on top of me before I dive to the left. Its Dimachaerus slices into the barrier, radiating electricity up the weapon and into the droid. The metal beast shakes violently, but recovers.
The tiles around us begin to separate and we’re both hoisted into midair, balancing precariously on the pieces. As I’m leaping from one tile to another the monster swings at me again, but I jump down to a section of tiles below just as the Dimachaerus hits the tile I’d just been on, splitting it into two. I continue skipping across tiles, then leap for one above my head as the droid comes around again. As I pull myself up, the machine hits the tile, sending it careening towards the barrier, forcing me to jump. It makes contact, but I land squarely on my feet. The tile I’m now on moves erratically, so I hop on over to another one.
An idea pops into my head, and I take the palm of my hand, laying it flat onto the surface of the tile, trying to push the energy through my arm and into the metal. I shove down with my feet and find myself surfing across the air. The crowd goes wild at my move. I dart between the droid’s feet and come up alongside its back. Dimachaerus in hand, I vault myself onto the droid’s back, slip slightly, but manage to grip the metal collar at the base of its neck. I take the Dimachaerus and shove it hard into the small gap between its head and shoulders. Sparks begin to fly as the energy from the weapon makes contact with the machinery inside. I shove harder, hear popping noises, and feel the metal head loosen from its spine.
I picture Vladim in my head and plunge the weapon further down, severing the spinal column.
The droid begins to drop to the ground. As the floor tiles begin to assemble to catch the mass as it falls, I dive below them, sliding down one tile as it’s rising to floor level. I land in the holding area, slamming my back onto the concrete floor. I’m severely winded, and slowly roll over, pushing myself up into a stand. Fighters stare at me from closed cages and I hear feet approaching from my left. I drop the Dimachaerus and pull out the Levin gun, run to the lift and push the button to lower myself to the Care Room just as a handful of Regulators enter the holding area.
The Care Room is empty of people, except those in the cage. I make my way over to them and tell them to stand back as I shoot the lock. Pointing to the Emergency Exit that I see on my right, I yell at them to go through it. Terrance is the last one out of the cage. I put my arm around his waist and we run towards the exit as the elevator opens up and Regulators pour out. The other lift begins to descend, carrying another handful of Regulators. I start firing at them, striking two in the chest as I keep pushing Terrance to the exit. They fire back, forcing us to duck as bits of plaster are disintegrated by the Regulator’s Levin guns’ blasts. Two columns in front of me explode in half as weapons fire
hits them.
All the others have made it through the exit except Terrance and me. We are forced to take cover in a small room just a few yards from the exit. I continue to fire, striking three more Regulators. I look at the pillars that have been damaged, and figure that if I can bring them down, the floor above will collapse on top of either the Regulators or Terrance and me.
I decide it’s better than nothing.
I take two shots at each pillar, disintegrating the remaining plaster and metal rods supporting the floor above. Part of the ceiling begins to give way, but not enough to cause a full collapse. I turn and aim at the pillar by our door. Terrance grabs me, trying to stop me. I pull myself away and fire. It takes four rounds to do the job. I clutch Terrance by the collar and drag him along the floor as the ceiling above us begins to come down. I shove him through the exit as a blast from a Levin gun hits me in the back.
Pain radiates through my entire body. I try and catch my breath, but I can’t seem to find my lungs. Terrance picks me up and carries me down a grassy hill away from the stadium as the brightness of the outside world encloses around me, blinding me.
Chapter 13
“Don’t touch her,” a far off voice shouts.
I know the voice…a familiar voice I haven’t heard in months…a voice that belongs to the dead.
I want to see Quin’s face when I open my eyes, but I’m afraid of what I will see, knowing he’s dead, yet still able to hear him.
“Meg,” Quin says to me. His voice is closer now, as if it was right next to me. “Meg, wake up.”