by Belle Malory
What sounded like a snort came from the other side of the door. “I’d like to see them try to stop me.”
She frowned, not liking the sound of that. “Phoenix, don’t do anything rash.”
“I always think things through.”
“Just…be careful.”
“Of course.”
“You should also know that if you don’t let me see you before you leave,” She paused to swallow back the growing lump in her throat. “I probably won’t get another chance, and Phoenix, I’d really like to see your face while I’m saying goodbye.”
“I already told you, you’re not going on that mission.”
Sheesh. By the time he accepted what was happening, she might already have boarded the ship and departed from the space station. If he were capable of coming up with a better plan, he had better do it fast. Time was running out on both of them.
Before leaving, she started to tell Phoenix she loved him but stopped herself. Some things just weren’t okay being said behind a door. Instead, she said, “I’ll come by tomorrow, if you’re feeling better.”
“Okay.”
She turned her head, still watching the door as she walked away.
“Hey, Kennedy?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t give up on me.”
She smiled. “Never.”
Six
The week came and passed, and before long, it was Friday. Hot blood coursed through Phoenix’s veins. Both he and Davaris waited for the department heads to get back to them. And they were met with total silence. Every minute that passed, he felt his patience running thin. His temper expanding. The energy inside on the brink of exploding.
Their time was up.
In a way, he was almost glad DOE was forcing him to stand up for himself. They had dictated nearly his entire life, collecting him from Pappa and his brothers when he was only five years old. They never gave him a chance to be a kid, instead pushing him to be an unthinking, unfeeling weapon. He was mostly to blame for that. He stupidly assumed they were on the same side, that he and DOE wanted the same thing, to protect the world. Even as a little boy, he sensed his responsibilities. He knew everything and everyone he saw needed him. If that meant he needed to drive out his emotions, so be it. Control was necessary to his existence. Or that’s what they made him believe anyway.
At the moment, he was angry. Furious, actually. But he somehow found a way to stay in control. He took his time getting ready, showering in the cramped bathroom attached to their cell, and then dressing with methodical patience. The clothes were cotton blends. After the first few days, the nurses stopped replenishing items like jeans and shoes. Both he and Davaris would need to stop by their apartments to pack a bag. More importantly, Phoenix needed to see Kennedy. He didn’t want to risk hurting her, but he knew she would never forgive him if he left without seeing her. She blindly believed she had to go on that mission DOE planned for her to grow stronger. He needed to prove it wasn’t necessary. But he’d never be able to do that by staying here. Earth was the answer.
He glanced at the time on his brace. Almost five in the afternoon, Olympian time. No point in waiting around any longer.
“Ready to do this?” he asked Davaris, making his way to the door.
Davaris glanced up at him from the edge of his bed. “Doubt I’ll ever be ready.”
“In that case, stand back. I’ve been holding this in a while.”
“Don’t you dare think you’re blowing up that door alone. If I’m gonna make it through this, I need to release some energy too.”
“Fine,” he said. “Let’s get it over with.”
Davaris stood, crossing the room. He exhaled a long, shaky breath. “We shouldn’t release everything.”
“Why not?”
“We don’t fully understand the extent of Fang’s energy, and we’ve been trying to hold it back since we got here. We need to play it safe, or we may end up destroying more than that door.”
Phoenix didn’t want to hold anything back, but he knew Davaris was right. Fang’s energy, coupled with theirs, was too strong. “On three.”
“One…two…”
The rippling explosion knocked Phoenix off his feet. Ears ringing, he opened his eyes to bright orange flames. The door to their cell had been knocked out—along with the entire wall it had been attached to.
Damn.
That was holding back?
He couldn’t imagine what they were capable of when they weren’t.
Once he got back on his feet, he looked around for Davaris, spotting him back against the far wall. “You all right?” he shouted.
Davaris nodded, picking himself up of the floor. The fire alarm blared, the noise cutting through the ringing in his ears. “We better get out of here now,” he shouted. “Before they send the troops after us.”
Smoke billowed around them. They covered their mouths, coughing, and made their way through the explosion residue, bending the flames back to get through. Once they were far enough down the hall, Phoenix glanced back, noticing the sprinkler system had gone off. He compelled the fire to die down with his mind, but could do nothing about the smoke. The destruction was immense, but at least it hadn’t expanded to neighboring annexes.
Something to be thankful for, anyway.
Seven
Kennedy walked inside her apartment and let out a content breath. Her hair was damp with sweat and her whole body ached. Zane had gone extra hard on her today, pushing to get her in the best shape possible before she left Olympus. Her muscles would pay for it tomorrow, but she was grateful. She was getting stronger, a valuable commodity these days. Although she’d still have the ability to train aboard her ship, it wouldn’t be as hands on, and she was likely to lose some muscle mass. It would be worse for Alanna and Colton though. By the time they reached the host planet, their muscles will have deteriorated from being in sleep mode for so long.
Hmm…perhaps she could use that argument to convince them to stay awake. It might not be enough to sway them, but still worth a shot.
“Welcome home, cupcake,” Matilda greeted her.
The door automatically locked behind Kennedy, and the lights brightened in the foyer. The apartment wasn’t big by normal standards, but for Olympus, the one bedroom spread with a private pool attached was as luxurious as it got. The sleek modern lines and technology made it feel more cold than homey, but it was all hers, and it allowed her the only modicum of privacy her life here could afford.
Well, if you didn’t count Matilda. But most days, she appreciated the intrusive android. Matilda was a decent cook and particularly skilled at filling the silence.
“There’s a package waiting for you in the kitchen.”
“Hey, Til. Mmm…it smells good in here.”
Garlic, onion, and other herbs and salivating spices permeated the kitchen, and her stomach growled in response.
“I’ve prepared a roast with potatoes. The recipe is from your mother’s cookbook.”
“That’s one of my favorites.”
Kennedy leaned against the kitchen counter and picked up the package. It was light and sealed tightly in a pale pink box. She recognized the return address on the label—her Amelia Island address. She quickly opened it, finding a note carefully folded up on top of decorative tissue paper.
Saw this and thought of you. Sorry about Mom’s melt down. At least it gives us a reason to visit (and sightsee in Olympus!). See you in a few days.
-Reagan
P.S. Still trying to convince Hunter to come. As usual, he’s being a stubborn asshat.
Kennedy set the note aside and tore through the paper lining. She smiled. Inside there was a dress, of course. Their private joke.
Gently, she held it up, letting the fabric spill in front of her in shimmering waves of white. Intricate spiral cutouts lined the deep square neckline. She swallowed, instinctively knowing what it would feel like to wear this dress. It would be light. Airy. Like being wrapped in a misty cloud…but how
could she know that?
“I’m catching a rise in your heart rate, cupcake. Is the gown overwhelming you with excitement or is something else going on?”
It used to bother Kennedy how effortlessly a robot could read her emotions. Matilda knew her better than most humans, and there was something a little creepy about that. Her perceptiveness was growing on her though. Talking to Matilda felt like talking to an old friend. An old friend that calculated her moods and expressions with better precision than a psychoanalyst, but in an endearing, familiar sort of way.
And in the dress’s case, Matilda was dead on. Time was hurling backward.
“I’ve seen this dress before.”
“You’re not getting enough oxygen to your brain,” the android admonished. “I suggest you sit down and take a few deep breaths.”
Bursts of images raced through Kennedy’s head. The overwhelming déjà vu pummeled into her so hard it made her nauseous. “The dreams…I was wearing this in my dreams with Phoenix.”
“The ones you told me about? With the crumbling ceiling and the pool that overflowed?”
She dropped the dress so quickly, it was as if it were on fire, the fabric pooling in a puddle at her feet. Slowly nodding, she stared down at it, her mind scrambling to figure out a rational explanation.
Except there wasn’t one. “This can’t be happening. Those dreams can’t come true.”
“Maybe you’re mistaken. Perhaps you simply saw the gown in a shop window. You could have—”
“I’m not crazy, Matilda. That’s the dress I was wearing in my dreams, I’m sure of it.”
“Okay, I believe you. Now why don’t you sit down as I suggested?”
Kennedy pulled out one of the breakfast barstools and sat far away from the dress on the floor. She took several deep breaths, knowing Matilda would hound her until she calmed down. Once she felt the tension in her chest easing, she said, “That dress terrifies me.”
“Oh I can see that,” Matilda replied dryly. “Shame on your relatives for sending it to you.”
“My sister sent it. She doesn’t know about the dreams.”
“And do you really think because she sent it, that your dreams will manifest into reality as a result?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I hope not.”
She didn’t know what to think. Those dreams had been plaguing her for the last year, and she wished she could put them in the back of her mind and bury them there, but they kept coming back to haunt her. And now this dress…she rested her elbows on the counter, sighing.
What did it mean?
“Well if it makes you feel better, the chances of that are highly improbable, cupcake. Humans dream for all sorts of reasons. Can you imagine what the world would be like if everyone’s recurrent dreams came true? It has more to do with your psyche than the real world, trust me on this. Statistically speaking, you’re safe.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Matilda. If we’re factoring in statistics, you’re forgetting I’m one of a kind. Or twelve of a kind, sort of…the point is, I’m not like every other human. Remember when you told me it was impossible to manipulate water?”
“I see your point, but your argument isn’t sound. You could use that basis to further any argument. Not every fantastical possibility that enters your head is possible based solely on the fact that you’re the twelfth keeper. You need a basis to support your conclusion. Right now, you have none.”
“Actually, that’s not true. Professor Mason told me the zodiacal twelfth house rules the subconscious. What if my dreams are trying to show me the future?”
“Good grief. Not this astrology nonsense again.” If robots could roll their eyes, that’s exactly what Matilda would be doing. “Have you heard of the term, mumbo jumbo?”
“Oh, come on, you can’t tell me it’s not linked! There are twelve of us, born exactly thirty degrees apart in relation to the Earth’s orbit around the sun. The elements we control are the same as the ones ruled by each of our signs.”
“As far as human beings go, I really thought you were more intelligent than this. I may need to reassess my assertion.”
Kennedy pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. “And as far as top of the line androids go, your free-thinking range is seriously lacking depth. You can’t ignore the similarities between keepers and the principles of astrology.”
Matilda huffed, sounding offended. “Lacking depth, am I? More like I’m better equipped to use common logic. While I do agree that the nature of the keeper abilities are related to Earth’s seasons and elements, this matter about the influence of the stars and constellations shaping personalities is completely ridiculous. Nor do I believe the stars can predict the future. There is simply no evidence to back up those claims.”
“Fine, I forgot you need scientific proof for every little thing. I give up.”
They’d been over this subject many times before, and trying to make Matilda see the link between astrology and the keepers was useless. For all of her lifelike qualities, this was one area where a glaring line was drawn between them, separating machine from human. Matilda couldn’t grasp the concept of energy beyond what was tangible. Kennedy could feel the truth in her beliefs whereas Matilda’s were based on pure logic, statistics, evidence…
“Speaking of proof, I’ve got an idea,” Matilda offered. “Put the dress on and head down to the Rec Center.”
“What does that prove?”
“Think about it, it proves that nothing will happen. Let’s theorize for a moment that your dreams are legitimate images of the future, provided you do nothing to change them, of course. So you go down there, let it all out, and face your fears. Once you’re done, put the dress away and promise yourself you’ll never wear it again. Or better yet burn the thing.”
It wasn’t a horrible idea.
Falling ceilings and overflowing pools weren’t likely to happen in the middle of a space station. If she went down there, proved to herself it wasn’t possible, then maybe she could accept the fact that her dreams were just that. Dreams.
Or if she couldn’t, she could at least convince herself that by having them, she had somehow altered the future. It was possible. Mason once told her he believed the keepers had abilities beyond those they had discovered. Maybe she was capable of changing Phoenix’s destiny. After all, he had been planning to go on the Peri-Guard mission, and now he wasn’t…because of her.
“You’re absolutely right, Matilda. I need to take control. Figure out what it all means. I’m going down to the Rec Center right now.”
“Glad to hear it, but don’t you want to eat first?”
Glancing at the stove, she shook her head. “I’m too anxious. I’ll wait till I’m back.”
Hopping off the barstool, she returned to the dress and picked it up off the floor. The soft material felt like butter in her hands. Shame the reason she’d be wearing this wasn’t to take it out to show it off; it really was lovely.
She planned to throw the dress on and hurry out the door, but once she was inside her bedroom, she stopped. Wearing it after spending the last several hours training seemed like such a waste. She was a mess, her hair piled on her head, her skin and hair still sticky with sweat. If she only got to wear that dress once, then she wanted to look halfway decent. So she set it aside and jumped in the shower.
Half an hour later, she glanced in the mirror, fully primped and glowing. Her dark auburn hair was smooth and dry, the silky locks framing her face in large waves. She didn’t bother with makeup, except for one quick smattering of lip gloss. Stepping back from the mirror a little, she looked over herself. The dress fit as perfectly as she remembered, the fabric pulled tight around her waist, flowing out loosely around her hips and legs.
DOE tended to discourage this type of thing, driving out individuality with their extreme authority, but her soul craved this. It was amazing how simply putting on a dress could make a girl feel feminine and beautiful. It lifted the part of her that didn�
�t enjoy emanating the unfeeling, unthinking instrument DOE wanted her to be. This was who she was too, whether they liked it or not.
After slipping on a pair of flats, Kennedy said goodbye to Matilda and left her apartment. The Rec Center was located in Section 2, an expanse of entertainment common areas for Olympians. She’d been there a few times with Phoenix and the other keepers, but never inside the Rec Center. The only reason she knew it was the same place from her dreams was because she sketched it from memory. Lexie noticed the drawing and told her what it was.
She wasn’t even sure she was in the right place when she arrived. There was a bright red arrow on the wall, pointing her to the right location, but no one was around except for one lone security guard. Kennedy approached the uniformed man, noticing his nametag read Hugo.
“Hello, sir. Would you mind telling me how to get to the pool?”
From the look on his face, she may as well have been asking for directions to Mars. To be fair, she wasn’t exactly dressed for swimming, which she supposed would seem strange.
It took the security guard several beats to find his voice. “Stars, are you a keeper? The twelfth, right?”
Ah, so that was why he’d been tongue-tied. She usually remembered to wear her blonde wig whenever she left Section 9. She had been too focused on the meaning of the dress and forgot.
Denying it would be a waste of breath. “Yes, I am.”
“Gosh, it’s an honor to meet you.” He let out a low whistle. “Do you think you could sign something? For my kid?”
“Um, sure.”
Kennedy hated this. These kinds of moments never failed to feel surreal. She wasn’t a celebrity. None of the keepers were. They might have notoriety, but in essence she and the security guard were the same. They both protected; they both served. Sure, she could do wondrous things with water, but the rest of the world didn’t know that.
She managed a small smile when the only thing Hugo could find was a black Sharpie and his stained coffee mug.