“You know, his history’s kind of strange, if you think about it.” I look to James in puzzlement and he goes on. “Edelin’s actually related to Head Devere.”
“Related?” I ask, sitting up straighter. “In what way?”
James raises his eyebrows. “They tried to cover it up, but basically Edelin’s the illegitimate child of Head Devere’s grandfather. Since Edelin was born from an affair, he was never accepted as the Head’s child. He grew up with his mother, but technically he’s related to Devere’s family.”
“He’d be like her...uncle...” I say slowly.
James nods. “A lot of people think that’s why he’s Head Devere’s advisor. He’s after the throne and he’s not trying too hard to hide it.”
“He feels like the throne should be his,” I state, shrugging. “He is older than her and male as well...”
“People are kind of fed up with him,” James goes on.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, just the way he seems to run things. Behind Head Devere, of course. Everyone blames it on her but I’m beginning to wonder if it’s him who’s dictating and punishing people.”
I nod slowly, the memory of meeting Head Devere playing in my mind. Her frailness hiding behind harsh eyes and a commanding demeanor. Just then, I notice the clock hanging on James’s wall and my heart sinks as I read the time. “The administrators will be here soon,” I tell James grimly.
He follows my gaze and frowns. I give him a sad look and then I get up to go use the bathroom before I’m taken back to my small room in the criminal facility. At least here, there’s a mirror and an actual clean toilet. I scrub my hands longer than usual, letting them lie under the hot water for a few minutes before turning the tap off and drying my hands.
As I’m heading towards the door, I glance into the mirror and suddenly realize how different I look. Not drastically so, but just little changes. My cheekbones just out farther than normal and I seem skinnier than usual. The portions at the facility are sparse and frankly disgusting. My hair is unruly and slightly longer than it used to be; it also seems browner. After a few seconds, I shrug halfheartedly, brushing a strand of hair from my face as I leave the room.
But as I walk through the door, I hear voices at the bottom of the stairs. Jed and James. I begin to head toward the staircase before I catch a whiff of their conversation and stop. I stand around the corner, just out of sight.
“I know you do, James,” I hear Jed saying softly. “I can see the way you act.”
“Then why don’t you do something about it?” James’s voice is more accusatory than I’ve ever heard it and I take a step back, making sure I’m not spotted. “You keep trying your experiments and all you do is mess things up!” James snaps. “You had no right to do what you did to Pen and the worst thing is that you don’t even care.”
“You think I don’t feel guilty?” Jed retorts, his voice high and incredulous. “I’ve tried to fix things; I’m still trying to find a way...”
“I didn’t want you to even start,” James interrupts him.
“You’d want me to give up my work? This is my life,” Jed protests.
“That’s the problem,” James suddenly shouts and then grows quiet again and I risk leaning forward and peering around the corner. He’s staring at the ground, although his body is still stiff with anger. “It’s happening again.”
Now it’s Jed’s body that tenses and he stares sadly at James. He opens his mouth but no words come. “There was nothing I could do,” he eventually utters so quietly I almost don’t hear him.
“But you could have done something,” James spits so vehemently I take a step back. “She was dying and you pretended like it didn’t exist. You just went on with your work even after she was dead, pretending things were the same – pretending you were still the greatest scientist in the world, still the smartest man alive, when you didn’t even try to save her.” Instantly, I know its James’s mother that he’s talking about. I’d known he had problems with his dad about his mother’s death and suddenly this conversation seems too private for me to be listening to. But I know that if I try to leave the other way, they’d probably hear or see me. I push myself closer to the wall, torn between trying to ignore them or trying to hear more.
“I...” Jed starts, but James cuts him off.
“I know it wasn’t your fault she died,” James spits the words out as if he doesn’t truly believe them, his eyes squeezed shut. “But I was seven years old, and you could have at least acted like you cared. At least acted like you were trying. That’s all I wanted. I just wanted to know that you tried.”
The air is so silent for so long that I’m afraid to breathe – afraid they’ll hear me and know I’ve heard their whole conversation. I push myself against the wall, trying to be soundless and unseen. Eventually I hear James sigh quietly. “And now you’re doing it to Pen,” he whispers so softly that I have to strain my ears to hear him. “You’re acting like you don’t care, like nothing’s changed, and that there’s nothing you can do.”
“James, I...” Jed starts and reaches toward him, but James steps away, stalking out of the room. Jed stands in the silence for a moment, staring down at his still outstretched hand before hurrying into his study and closing the doors.
I wait for a moment before stepping out to the top of the staircase, staring down at the empty room. I slowly venture down the stairs, knowing Edelin will be here soon. I walk toward the kitchen where James had vanished to, hesitating only a second before opening the door and walking in. James is by the window, staring out into the darkness, possibly waiting to see Edelin’s car pull into the driveway. He turns when he hears the door open and sends me a halfhearted smile.
“Hi,” he says as I walk over beside him. We stand in silence for a moment, neither one of us thinking of anything to say. Eventually James says, “Will Edelin allow you back again?”
I shrug, realizing that I truly don’t know. “He might. It depends on his mood...”
James doesn’t reply.
“I...” I start, beginning to tell him that I heard his conversation with Jed. For some reason it feels so wrong and I feel like I should confess it. And the look in James’s eyes, the sad, lost look, is almost tearing me apart. But before I can say anything else, a bright light flashes through the window and I turn to see the headlights of an administrator’s car. James turns to look at me briefly before we both walk out of the kitchen. Jed meets us in the entryway and peers through the window on the doorway and then turns back to me. I reach out to hug him, not sure if Edelin will allow me back or not. I can never count on anything with the administrators.
I turn to hug James and my heart beats faster as he wraps his arms around me. I close my eyes, leaning my head against his shoulder, finding that I don’t want to let go, but I reluctantly pry myself away and when the knock sounds at the door, I turn and walk out into the frigid night air. I hear James walk out behind me but just as I begin to walk down the steps he grabs my elbow and urgently turns me around.
“Pen,” he says quietly. “Don’t let them control you,” he tells me just like he did when I had been shot. I stare at him in confusion and am about to ask him what he means; how I can even begin to do that, when he speaks over me. “You’re stronger than that.” And with that he lets go and takes a step back, nervously watching the black car parked only twenty feet away. I stand in puzzlement before I realize he has no intention of saying more and I turn and walk down the steps to the little black car and get inside.
I swivel around in my seat to see James watching as the car slowly drives away and it takes all of my self control not to jump out of the car and demand that I stay. I lean against my hands, watching him right back until the car turns a bend and James is gone from sight, his words still swimming through my mind.
26
The door to my room is unlocked and when I look up, Duquesne enters. I scowl at him from across the room and he gives me a warily sheepish glance.
“W
hat do you want?” I snap, remembering the feeling of the man’s crushed bones in my hands and knowing that it was all possible because of Duquesne. He walks hesitantly toward me and my frown deepens as he gets closer.
“I’m here to examine you,” he states. “To make sure that you’re recovering from your surgery well.”
“I am not recovering well!” I nearly screech. He’s treating this as if it’s a head injury instead of some immense violation of privacy, rights, and free will.
Duquesne startles at the sound of my raised voice but continues on. “I want to talk to you.” He scans the room and then glances in the door’s direction. “That’s the real reason I came. I want to talk to you about the plate.”
“Plate?” I echo.
He nods. “The implant in your brain that allows the administrators to control you.”
For some reason the word plate makes me envision metal slabs and wires much worse and more terrifying than it most likely is. I can feel my expression morph to worry and my gut clench. “What about it?” I ask after a pause.
I notice a guard watching us from the window on the door and Duquesne must notice it as well because he hurries over, ignoring my glower and begins to check my heart rate. “It can be removed,” he says so quietly I’m not sure I hear it.
“Removed?” I hiss. “How?”
Duquesne shakes his head. “I can’t do it. They’re watching my every move and...my family, I can’t risk it.” He begins to check my reflexes and then take my blood pressure.
“Then who can?”
“His name is Arms. Dr. Cyril Arms.”
Hope stirs within my chest, the best feeling I’ve had in days. “Arms,” I repeat. “And you’re sure he can do it?”
Duquesne nods. “I’m sure. If you ever get out of here, that is,” he adds. I feel my heart drop a little at his words but I try to ignore it.
“And how will I find him?” I go on.
“Jed knows him. Or at least, of him.”
I nod slowly, thinking; reworking theories in my mind.
Dr. Duquesne stops for a moment, watching me and then begins to put his instruments back into his bag. “If you do get out of here, Penelope,” he says slowly. “I wish you the best of luck.”
I give him a half smile.
“And I’m sorry about what I had to do. I truly am.” He pauses. “You’re more important than you know.”
A frown surfaces on my face and I’m about to ask him what he means, but he picks up his bag and leaves the room before I can utter a coherent sound.
. . .
Head Devere visits me again the next day and I’m slightly surprised by her strange interest in me. For a few moments, she only stands in the doorway, watching me with those eerily light blue eyes of hers until I eventually clear my throat and say hello. She inclines her head toward me but says nothing. I shift uncomfortably.
Her hair is piled on top of her head today, small blonde ringlets forming around her face in a fiercely gelled style that makes her appearance and manner seem harsh. “It was Dr. Duquesne who operated on you?” she asks after awhile and I nod. She nods as well, the curls bobbing slightly, watching me for a moment as her eyes narrow. “And you know about...what he told me,” she adds.
I frown in puzzlement, suddenly alert, and then shake my head.
She raises her pale, white eyebrows. It makes her already narrow face look longer. “So you don’t know,” she says but doesn’t venture to explain. She seems surprised, although not in a disadvantaged way.
“Know what?” I ask her quietly, slightly afraid of seeming intrusive.
She pauses. “It might be best that you don’t know.” She doesn’t say it in a patronizing way, just a factual one.
Curiosity burns inside of me like a virus but I try to hold it back as the frown deepens on my face. Head Devere watches me again, her eyes almost cat-like in their scrutiny. Just then, the door to my room is opened and the guard leans in.
“Administrator Edelin wishes to talk to you, Head Devere,” he states.
She nods and waves him away, turning toward the door, and I can’t help but think about what James told me about Edelin and Devere. I suddenly feel scared for her – Edelin out to snatch her throne, feeling justified by the fact that they’re related. That the throne could have been his.
“You just let him have his way,” I burst out, almost involuntarily, realizing how rude it sounds only seconds after its left my lips. Head Devere turns around and fixes me with an icy stare. “I’m sorry,” I immediately stammer, my eyes widening at my own words. “I just...I don’t know why...”
I see the harshness in her eyes soften for a moment before she gives me an odd look. Suddenly her expression changes; morphs into urgency and she opens her mouth to speak. “Tell them it won’t work,” she hisses.
“What?” I ask in confusion, taking a step toward her, but she hurries from the room, disappearing with a puff of pink and white makeup.
27
My time is limited. I know that. I hurry up the front steps to Jed’s house, hearing the noise of the administrator’s car slowly leave the driveway. I knock quickly on the door, waiting impatiently, until Jed opens it and I smile up at him. He greets me with surprise and then hugs me, pulling me inside and shutting the door.
“How long can you stay?” he asks as if I’m an old friend coming over for lunch. He never addresses the real issue. And I don’t mind; I actually like Jed’s approach anyway.
“Just for the day,” I tell him with a shrug.
“James has been worried about you,” Jed murmurs, looking up the stairs as if expecting him to appear any minute. “You should go tell him you’re back.”
I nod but before Jed can call up the stairs and announce me, I reach out to touch his arm. “Do you know of a Dr. Cyril Arms?” I ask him and I see his expression form into slight intrigue.
I hope he tells me where to find him. I need his answer. I need it fast. I feel like I’m walking on a tightrope, about to fall any minute and however I balance depends on how fast I make it across.
“I do,” Jed answers with a smile. “Why?”
“How can I...reach him?” I ask slowly.
Jed shrugs, eyeing me strangely. “His office, I suppose...” he trails off. I wait patiently, shifting my feet. “It’s downtown. Not our little ‘village downtown’, the main one,” he clarifies, gesturing his hands in the air while he speaks.
I nod, my heart beginning to race in my chest and a million thoughts floating in my mind all at once, competing with each other. “Thanks, Jed,” I say with a smile. He shrugs and begins to head into his study, murmuring something about showing me some new invention, rambling on in his loquacious way.
“Jed?” I call hesitantly. He turns around, although I detect something sad hidden in his deep blue eyes; something oddly sorrowful for Jed to display. But it vanishes from his face in a matter of seconds. I sigh, readying myself for his response, but needing to ask the question anyway. “Can you please take it away?” I ask him. “The lying.”
I can see Jed’s shoulders sag and his head begin to shake back and forth, sending my heart sinking.
“Jed, please,” I say. “Forcing me to tell the truth doesn’t make me a better person!” I state. “Not at all. Choosing to lie or tell the truth is what sets someone apart and you’ve taken that away from me.”
Jed stands, staring down at his hands and after a moment he sighs. Part of me leaps in hope, expecting Jed to give in, but I try to hold back. But when his head shakes again, I feel my hope slipping away like water. “I can’t, Penelope,” he says slowly. I want to open my mouth and ask him why, but a part of me begins to realize that his ‘can’t’ isn’t just an excuse anymore. A startling dread entwines itself within me. I stare at him, waiting for him to say more. “I can’t take it away any more than I can take your marionette abilities away,” he admits without meeting my eyes.
I feel my heart plummet but at the same time I wonder how I didn’t e
xpect this, how I didn’t see this coming; how obvious it was. Jed is staring down at his hands clasped together and I’m beginning to feel a frantic anxiety creep over me. This thing is mine to hold forever. It will never leave. It will always control me.
“I’m sorry,” Jed says. “I really am.” He opens his mouth as if to say more, but then closes it. He eyes me for a moment, that same sad look obscuring his face like a mask.
For some reason, I can’t find the power inside of myself to be angry with Jed. For some reason, I’m just not. Maybe I care about him more than my ability to lie. Maybe I do think of him as a father. Or maybe what the administrators took from me is just so much more horrendous than what Jed did.
And maybe, deep down, I feel like I deserve this.
We stand in silence for a few moments before Jed gives me a grim look and trudges back into his study. I stand alone for a few seconds, watching the study doors close behind him and then I turn and walk up the stairs to James’s room.
I push James’s door open slightly and when he sees me, he hops up from his chair and immediately pulls me into a hug. I can feel his face against my hair and his hands on my back. I close my eyes and lean into him, wishing I could forget everything else and just be. Not thinking. Not worrying.
“When did they let you out?” his voice sounds in my ear.
“I just got here,” I answer with a smile, pulling away to look at him.
“You seem...happier than normal,” he says slowly, smiling as he pulls a strand of hair away from my eyes. But I can’t help but notice how sad his smile is.
I think back to Jed’s words about Dr. Arms and my frustration begins to fade, replaced by burning hope. Maybe I am happier than normal.
I nod slowly, although beginning to feel slightly wary of James’s expression. “I can get rid of whatever Duquesne planted in my head,” I tell him slowly. “There’s someone who can do it. Undo the operation.” Hope fills my voice but I feel James’s hand stiffen around my waist and I stare up at him quizzically. “What’s wrong?” I ask quietly.
I see doubt flicker across his eyes before he shakes his head and replaces it with a grin. A grin I know is fake. I take a step away from him, trying to hide my unease as well and run my fingers through my hair. “I was going to try to find him today,” I tell James. “It’s my only chance.”
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