by C. C. Bolick
“Chase,” I said again, but the breeze had become a strong current of air that carried my words away. My heart picked up speed as I wondered if Chase would come. I never allowed myself to consider any other possibility before.
“That didn’t take long,” said a voice from behind me.
Turning, I flung my arms around Chase.
Return to The Past
“You remembered?” Chase asked, as he stepped back and looked over me. “Everything?”
“Only that night.” I placed a hand on his cheek. My fingers couldn’t lie. Chase was really there.
“Why did you leave me?” he asked, holding his breath.
“I never meant to leave. I followed our father, sure he’d return once he found me on the ship. But then you were taken…”
Chase released the breath and closed his eyes, as if experiencing that night all over again.
“Was that your mother?” I asked.
His eyes flew open. “It was her sister. You really don’t remember? She hates Mom, but we can talk about that later.”
“What did she—?”
“Mom got me back, and nothing else matters.”
Sorrow washed over me as my thoughts took me back to that night. “Our father, he…”
“I know,” Chase said. He gripped my shoulders. “Don’t say the words. I’ve waited a long time for this.”
“Will you take me back?”
He smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.” Reaching forward, he took my hand and closed his eyes. When he opened them, we stood inside of a room not much larger than the van.
My head bumped against an overhead compartment outlining a door with a square handle.
“Be careful,” Chase said as he ducked and moved toward the front, slightly hunched over. He slid into one of two seats. Motioning to the other, I sat beside him, in a seat that felt softer than one of the feather pillows I loved to sleep with.
“You’ve got questions,” he said.
Taking a full look around, I nodded, unsure of where to begin. Black glass filled the space to our front and sides, even the ceiling and narrow sections of the floor. It was the same black glass I remembered from the ship the night I left Golvern, and the night a year ago when Chase almost took me back.
Reaching for the controls, Chase pressed several buttons and a soft humming noise sounded to either side of us. The panel in front of us pulsed to life, flashing a mixture of pink and green lights. The glass before us began to glow.
“How does this work? What kind of power does it use?” I asked.
He punched a flashing green button and the humming noise stopped. “Let’s get off the ground first.”
I looked at the simple armrests to either side of the seat. “Should I grab onto something? Maybe put on a seat belt?”
“This ride will be nothing like the movies.”
Gripping the armrests, I closed my eyes, not wanting to hyperventilate, but the space was too confined. I had no idea what to expect next. Seconds passed and nothing happened.
“You can let go,” Chase said.
“I’ve only been on a plane twice, but I remember takeoff was the worst.”
“Jes,” he said, “calm down. We’re already in the air.”
Opening my eyes, my breathing stopped. Surrounding us, the black glass had ‘turned on’ like a TV screen. To either side of us, the night sky stretched to the horizon of starts. Below our feet, the tops of trees waved as we sped by.
“You’re turning blue,” Chase said.
Coughing, I reached forward and touched the screen before me. My fingers pressed against the smooth glass. “It’s not even warm.”
“Power-saving technology. You could run these screens off less power than it takes to charge your cell phone.”
I reached for my purse, forgetting for a moment I had left my phone. There was no way to call home and no chance of turning back. We rose higher, the trees below fading to dots and then darkness. Up ahead, the edge of the sky glowed with a light that brightened as we approached.
“Atlanta,” he said.
Even though it felt as if we sat still, tiny dots of light along the highway below us seemed to crawl. I jerked, letting out a tiny yelp as I noticed a plane to my right. Some of the windows were lit—I squinted, trying to make out people on the other side. “Can they see us?”
Chase maneuvered us closer to the plane, laughing as I squirmed. “We’re hidden from human technology.”
I thought about all the planes I remembered in the sky over Atlanta. “What if we get in their way?”
“I’m actually a decent pilot, although you can’t tell the difference yet.”
“I can’t believe you can fly a spaceship,” I said, shaking my head. “My parents won’t even let me get a driver’s license.”
“You’ll have to work on mentioning your parents. Mom won’t be happy hearing you refer to them.”
“But they did raise me.” And I already missed my family.
Chase didn’t say anything, only stared ahead.
I needed to change the subject. “Were you really in history class or did I imagine that?”
“I was there.”
“But no one saw you.”
He turned around in his seat to face me. “You did.”
“But how?”
“Let’s try a subject that’s…a little safer. Let’s start with why I didn’t return last year.”
Oh yeah, that was really safe. “Okay, why didn’t you return?”
“All of the tests said you weren’t Kayden. To be more specific, the tests didn’t one-hundred percent rule you out, but it wasn’t what Mom had hoped for. You should have been the exception to the rule. She decided to keep looking.”
My stomach felt like I never wanted to eat again. “She never believed like you did.”
“I was sure and I wanted to come back, but I couldn’t convince her to let me go. Mom asked that I never bring up your name again.”
“Because she hated me.”
“Because she was heartbroken. She never admitted it, but I believe she wanted you to be Kayden too. I finally convinced her to let me come back. She restarted the search in New York since that’s where our father’s ship crashed. It’s how he died.”
“Crashed?” I’d dreamed of that night, remembering hundreds of small pieces, images that seemed to finally link together in the hospital. Then the day Collin was hurt—there was a gun, screaming, and more than enough blood. But nowhere in the deepest pits of my memory was a crash.
“I came back to Credence to check on you right before school started. That’s when I overheard someone mention your coma.”
“I was in the hospital for two months.”
“But from a sunburn? No normal human would be comatose over a sunburn. For the first time in months, the world around me felt right.”
Something about his words bothered me. “You said your mom was in New York—”
“Our mom,” he corrected.
I stared at Chase. “But you said I wasn’t—”
“According to the tests last year, you weren’t. Turns out there was a problem with the algorithm. Our doctor believed a bone sample would tell us the truth about you, without making you return to Golvern. You played the guilt card like a pro with Mom, but the answer was there the whole time.” He smiled. “I told you before—computers are stupid. Our computers are more advanced than Earth computers, but some of our people believe they can make electronics interpolate real decision making. One wrong entry by a junior staff member, one wrong decision made, and the errors become exponential.”
“So, I am Kayden?”
He looked at me strangely. “You tell me.”
I closed my eyes and gripped the necklace. “Yes.”
“You said that with real confidence. I’m proud of you. Too bad no one else knew the truth until a few days ago. We got the message right after Renora’s assignment ended.”
“Who?”
“Your history
teacher.”
I stared at him.
Chase laughed. “You thought she was Mom, didn’t you? Well, she does work for Mom and she is mean, like I said. Her mission was to check on you.” Chase smiled. “Mom was underhanded about the whole thing. She insisted you weren’t on her mind, but then she sent her first lieutenant to make sure you were okay. I wasn’t supposed to know.”
“I thought Mrs. Austen had to be Mrs. Pearson.”
“Why?”
“Because of the name, Mrs. Austen.”
“Mom chose the name after some author. I’m not sure why, but she insisted Renora use that name.”
“When you were in Credence last fall, she gave me a copy of Pride and Prejudice, written by Jane Austen. She said it was her favorite book.”
His eyes doubled in size. “The one with leaves on the spine?”
“Yes. She wanted me to read it for a book report.”
“She’s always carried that book wherever she went. I asked about it a few months ago, when I didn’t see it on her dresser. Mom said she lost it. I’ve thought about finding her another copy, but that one was really old. It was a gift from our father.”
The sadness in his voice brought me back to what he said about history class. “Why did Mrs. Austen act like she didn’t know who you were?”
“Because she didn’t know I was there.”
How could she not see him? “I don’t understand.”
“It’s what you would think of as a hologram. I was never supposed to be in that room, and technically I wasn’t. What you saw was a visual projection of myself.”
“Why was I the only one?”
“I knew it was you, Kayden. I never doubted that fact, but I used the hologram as a way to test my theory. It was bio-metrically coded.”
“Which means?”
“Only someone with my DNA could see me—can’t get much closer than a twin. I designed it to test on you.”
“Then you knew the truth the first day of class.”
“I did, but remember—I was never actually in that room. I couldn’t tell anyone, especially not Mom. If she refused to listen, I’d lose my chance. Instead, I combed the computer program until I found the mistake. I insisted they run your DNA tests again. The results came back two days ago. You’re Kayden.”
Something still bothered me. “How did Ronald see you?”
“You’re overthinking this. I allowed Ronald to see me because I wasn’t sure what he planned to do to you. At that point, I no longer needed the coding. I knew who you were.”
Below us, the lights of Atlanta became sparse neighborhoods, and then random dots until mostly darkness surrounded the ship. I tapped my foot against the black glass below me, just to be sure it still separated me from the ground. “When are we going higher?”
“We won’t be leaving the atmosphere tonight.”
He wasn’t taking me back to Golvern? “Where are we going?”
“New York.” He pressed three buttons on the panel. The stars in the sky before us seemed to tilt. “We’re going to where all of this started—maybe then you’ll get your memory back.”
I looked at Chase, staring down at the panel, his fingers flexing as if he wanted to say more. His arms bulged under his shirt.
“You looked like our teacher,” I said. “In your hologram.”
“Yeah, I changed a few things. Since no one else could see me, I didn’t want to take a chance on you screaming my name in the middle of class.”
I squeezed his arm. “But these are real.”
Chase smiled “I’ve been working out, training for…Jes, we’ve got so much to talk about. We…” He turned to me. “I’m sorry, Kayden—it feels so good to say your name without a flood of tears.”
“Not much chance of that,” I said as tears sprang to my eyes, matching his. “Maybe next time.”
* * * * *
Up ahead, the lights grew stronger, until every inch of the sky was filled by a glow from the city below. The glow surpassed what Atlanta boasted, and all other cities combined as we flew above. I didn’t need to ask if this was New York City.
Chase brought the ship lower so that we cruised level with the tops of skyscrapers. He made the ship dance between the towers, circling some, and then abruptly dropped to a hover above a crowded street.
I gripped the armrests, not caring if I couldn’t feel our descent. It was enough to see the yellow taxis rushing up at us.
“Scared?” Chase asked.
“A little,” I said, hoping he couldn’t hear my teeth chatter.
“How about I go a little faster?” Chase hit a button and music played, filling the ship with a jam as if a normal radio with real speakers hid behind the controls. He hit another button and the we sped forward, dodging street lamps and bridges, with glass storefronts to either side as we accelerated through the narrow streets. Down an alleyway, I closed my eyes, only to open them as we emerged in Times Square, nearly slamming into a red and white Coke ad. Just before we reached the glowing surface, the ship tilted up, and we shot straight for the sky.
“Had enough?” Chase laughed with real amusement.
“Yes,” I screamed. “This is crazy. I see us moving, my head tells my stomach I should be sick, but we don’t actually move.”
“We are moving, but the stabilizers keep gravity in a perfect balance.”
“Weird,” I said.
“You’ll get used to it,” he said as the ship leveled off and brought the Statue of Liberty into our sights.
“Slow down,” I begged as we approached. “I’ve never seen her up close.”
Chase took the ship in smoothly, with three revolutions from her torch down to her sandals, ensuring I got the best close-up ever.
Eventually, he brought the ship over a dimmer edge of the city, and descended to a street between two rows of houses with black roofs. As we slowed to land on the pavement, I shivered. The house in front of us…I’d seen it before.
The last time was in an article. The woman had stood before this house for an interview, begging for the return of her daughter. Cameras flashed before her face. Her husband stood to her side, with tears of support.
Chase grabbed my hand. “We’ll be on the street in a minute. Don’t forget to stand.”
Even with his warning, I stumbled as my feet materialized on the pavement. Two men in black suits rushed forward to steady me. “What’s going on?” I asked, pulling from their grasp, which brought up not-so-fond memories of being taken against my will.
Waving them back, Chase pulled me toward the house. “They work for Mom.”
Looking around, I counted at least twenty people standing between us and the house, watching as we walked up the steps. The concrete felt uneven and I almost fell, but Chase’s strong arms guided me to the door. A woman in a black suit opened the screen door and moved to the side as we passed.
Two more men in black suits stood to either side of the door. One whispered to the other, but I couldn’t make out his words.
“What’s with all the black suits?” I asked.
“Anyone driving by would probably think detectives or agents of some kind.”
I looked around at the green and orange wallpaper, taking in the dolls and toy keyboard swept into a pile at one corner. Peeking into the kitchen, I saw the ragged cabinet doors, some hanging from their hinges. Dirt and toys and broken plates sat in neat piles, again swept into the corners.
“This way,” the woman said and pointed to the living room.
Recognizing her voice, I turned to get a good look at her brown hair, twisted in a ball above her head. It was the woman who pretended to be my history teacher.
Inside the living room, I froze as my eyes landed on a woman sitting on the couch. She stared at me with a tired and somewhat sad look in her eyes. Wrinkled skin hung low around her face—she was older than the pictures, but no one could mistake her eyes.
Turning to Chase, I realized he still held my hand. “What’s going on?”
/> He put a finger to his mouth.
“Tell the story for us again, Mrs. Naples,” said a firm, clear voice that I’d also heard before.
I put a hand over my mouth as I spotted Mrs. Pearson leaning against the far wall. It occurred to me that many nights would pass before I could call her anything but Mrs. Pearson. Her arms were crossed and her full attention was on Marsha Naples.
“This pains me,” Marsha said.
“Once again,” Mrs. Pearson said. “Please.”
“My daughter, Jessica Naples, died the night I reported her kidnapped.”
“Tell us more,” Mrs. Pearson said.
“It was an accident. Frank and I never meant for...” Tears filled Marsha’s eyes. Her hands shook as she gripped the Styrofoam cup in her hand. Tighter, her fingers squeezed until the cup split and the contents spilled into her lap.
I reached forward to help her, why I’m not sure. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe I felt sorry for her. Chase tightened his grip on my hand. Steam rose from the liquid soaking into the woman’s pants, but she didn’t move.
“I’m sorry.” Marsha put her head in her hands.
“We need more,” Mrs. Pearson said, striding forward to loom over her, at the same time handing her a stack of napkins from the coffee table.
“No,” I said.
She looked at me. “This is important. You need to know what really happened that night.”
This time Chase released my hand. I backed up, but stopped when my shoe slammed against a baseboard.
Mrs. Pearson approached, cautiously. “I want you to be sure this woman is not your mother.”
I took another look at Marsha Naples. The napkins were balled up in her lap, but she didn’t seem to notice or try to clean herself. She muttered about her only daughter, about how her baby was gone. Jessica was never coming back.
Pulling myself from the wall, I pushed past Mrs. Pearson and shoved open the front door. The guards moved out of my way without a word. I hadn’t noticed how cold the air outside felt until after standing in that hundred-degree room. I drew a breath of the air and released the tension inside of me as I lowered to my knees on the pavement.