by Laura Lam
“The quasi-self-portrait.”
I know the one he means. It’s a woman who looks nothing like us, but her shadow falls out behind her, separate, but connected. She’d painted it in all the colors of the rainbow, yet for all the crazy hues, it was so realistic. My sister had called it The Kaleidoscope Woman. I’d been sad when it sold, but she’d said she couldn’t turn down the price. I feel sick that he has it.
I swallow. We’re alone, but I have no doubt that dozens of guards are posted outside this room, wherever it is.
Ensi stretches his arms over his head. “Now, fascinating as this conversation has been, it’s time for us to be getting on, isn’t it?” He aligns the needle against the crook of my elbow, poised over the vein. The electrodes begin to buzz, tightening against my skin. The fear I’d banished rushes back. I stare at the ceiling, and that white expanse may be the last thing I see. How boring.
Ensi leans closer to me. This is my only chance. I think the trigger word: “sweetpea.” I bite the seal on the tooth. A liquid spreads into my mouth, and I lock my throat. I’ll kiss him if I can, and if I can’t, I’ll spray it into his face.
“I didn’t see you partnering up with a detective. And I didn’t peg him until he waltzed into that party with you, so I give him credit for that. A good detective—but not smart enough to quit while he was ahead. I’ll tell you one thing before you go, my dear,” he whispers. “You want to know who I am, but I’m a little disappointed you haven’t figured it out.”
He presses his lips to mine. I open my mouth, as if gasping, and he presses his tongue into mine. The tasteless liquid spreads into him. There. It’s done. I can only hope it’s enough.
He presses the plunger on the syringe and the drug begins to work.
“I’m the Brother,” he whispers as my mind starts to go.
Everything that happens next is a blur. Nazarin bounds up from his chair and knocks Ensi back.
My mind burns. I’m still conscious—barely—because Ensi hasn’t started the program. It takes all my strength to raise my head a few inches. Ensi is manipulating the fight with Nazarin so he inches closer to the controls. I try to warn Nazarin, but my mouth won’t open. Ensi’s hand snakes back and the program begins. Soon, I’ll be trapped in a dream.
The King of the Ratel knocks Nazarin against the wall. He slumps over, his battered brain out cold again.
With the last of my consciousness, I see Ensi strap Nazarin in the Chair and begin the program, then strap himself into another, starting his own sequence.
He’s grinning like a hunter going in for the kill.
And then we’re gone.
TWENTY-SEVEN
TILA
We really thought we’d succeeded.
The month had passed without any problems. We went to school, we did the chores we could do, we listened to sermons, we did the Meditation and we did our best not to stand out at all. Mom and Dad did their jobs. We tried to act both positive and remorseful at the thought that we would be reentering the Cycle again soon. Our health continued to worsen, and our main fear was that we’d die before we could escape.
We should have been more afraid of Mana-ma.
The morning the supply ship was due to come, we’d gone into the forest to hide near where it would land. It was slow going—we had trouble walking and had to use canes, stopping to rest every few steps. We left before most of the Hearth was awake and kept under cover of the trees, hoping that nobody would see us. We didn’t bring anything with us except a bit of food—no clothes, no trinkets, no journals. I think that hurt Taema more than me. She wanted to bring at least one book. I decided then and there that if we survived and got jobs in San Francisco, I’d buy her all the books I could with my first pay-check.
We waited there in the shade all morning, eating the snacks Mom and Dad had packed us. We wouldn’t have long once Dad gave the signal.
“Are Mom and Dad going to get into trouble if Mana-ma realizes they helped us?” Taema asked. She hadn’t asked the question before, though it must have been on her mind as much as mine.
“Probably, but it shouldn’t be too bad. Mana-ma loves them, and maybe she won’t find out. Maybe they’ll think we went off to die in the woods and then animals ate us.”
“That’s gross, Tila.”
“What? I’d rather be eaten by a fox or a bear then buried in the ground and then eaten by worms. You’re going to be eaten either way.”
I was trying to distract her, though I wasn’t doing a very good job. I thought Mom and Dad would get in big trouble if Mana-ma found out they helped us escape. I didn’t think their lives would be in danger or anything, though. I didn’t know the full story of Mia and her lost lover back then. If I had, I might have been too scared to risk Mom and Dad by running away.
Even to save our lives.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” Taema says. “I … can’t help feeling it’s wrong. That out there we’ll lose ourselves.”
I pressed my cheek against hers, then reached around and stroked her hair. “If we stay, we die. I don’t want you to die.”
Her breath hitched. “I don’t want you to die, either. Maybe it’s better to be damned by Impure things than be dead.”
I shook my head, pushing down my anger that, despite everything, she could still believe in the tenets of the Hearth.
The ship came down, all silver and chrome and the blue fire of its engines. It was so different from anything in the Hearth. So smooth and sleek and futuristic. I remember thinking how strange it would be to be surrounded by a world where everything looked so flawless like that.
The hatch opened and the worker drones went about their business like ants, crawling out of the belly of the beast, lugging crates to be set onto the grass. Once the ship left, the people from the Hearth would slink down the hill and take their essential supplies back to the buildings, trying to have as little contact with the Impure as possible.
“So fucking hypocritical,” I said out loud.
“What is?”
“All that bullshit about the Impure. Yet they still take regular orders of things they can’t make. Never really thought about it before. The Hearth has plenty of Impure stuff that we all use. Light bulbs. Some of the cleaning stuff. Metalwork. We can’t make a lot of that here. It’s all over, but we pretend we’re all Pure and untouched by the outside world. So stupid.”
A pause, and then: “Yeah. It is.” It was the first time she had really agreed with me out loud. Usually when I ranted about the evils of the Hearth she stayed pretty quiet, tacitly agreeing but not really saying anything out loud that could be considered anti-Hearth. It had always annoyed me. Now, she sounded so sad that I felt guilty for all my ranting. I also felt justified.
“It’s almost time,” I whispered, wrapping my arms about her. She rested her chin on my shoulder.
“Everything will be different now,” she whispered against my neck.
“It’ll be better.”
“Maybe.” She pulled away, and I could see the dark circles under her eyes, the yellow undertone to her skin, how thin she’d grown. I looked exactly the same. We felt especially weak that day. The excitement of freedom was overworking our already weakened heart.
“Taema?” I murmured, shaking her shoulder. She slumped, and I fell to the ground with her. I clutched her to me, taking deep breaths, forcing myself to stay calm, because I couldn’t stress the heart any further. Her arms were slack against mine. I wrapped my own arms around her and rocked us like we were children, resting my face against her slack skin.
“Stay with me, Taema,” I said over and over, careless of who might hear us above. I could feel her inhaling and exhaling against me and tears ran down my face. If she died, I’d be glad that I’d be following her a few minutes later. It wouldn’t be fair if this was the end, just as we were about to escape.
I looked up into Mana-ma’s face.
She squatted over us, her dark robes billowing.
“And just where d
o you think you’re going?” she asked.
My mind spun, but there was no good excuse I could give—of course there wasn’t. I decided to say nothing, and glared at her.
She looked at us, taking in Taema’s head lolling against my shoulder. I could tell what she was thinking: she’d already lost us. She knew that during our last Confession, when I fucked with her and freaked her out.
“You might as well let us go,” I said. “You can say we died in the forest.”
“But what if I let you go and you find a way to survive?”
“I guess that’s a risk you take. We’re not doing so hot right now, anyway.” I sucked in a breath. “Do you want us to die?”
“I want you to follow God’s plan. If you weren’t meant to die, your heart wouldn’t be failing.”
“Maybe God wants us to leave your godforsaken Hearth and go to the city.”
She leaned down, close to me. There was no one around.
Her ageless face gazed down at us. Would she raise her arm in benediction, or would the hand hold a knife?
“It didn’t have to be like this,” she said. “It all could have been different.”
“Well, this is how it is. So what are you going to do?” I glared up at her. “The power’s in your hands, I guess. You going to kill us here? Do nothing for a few minutes? That’s all it’ll take.” Already my vision was wobbling, going dim. My chest hurt, and my fingers were numb. I wanted her to go away and leave me to die in peace.
“You want to go out into the Impure world?” She sneered down at me. “Very well. I’ll let you go. You can never return. Never contact your parents or your friends. You’re cut off from here in every possible way. I know that the big, wide world out there will chew you up and spit you out, until you wish you could come crawling back. But you can’t. You’re apostate. You’re dead to the Hearth.”
“You done?” I asked wearily.
She glared at me for a long time before she finally moved away, her robe whispering against the forest floor. She turned her back on us and made her way through the forest to her Hearth. She’d made her point. We couldn’t hide things from her, even if we tried. Our choice was final.
I spat in the direction she had taken.
I looked up toward the spaceship. We heard the low whistle of an owl—Dad’s signal. Oh God. If Mana-ma knew about our escape, would she hurt my parents for helping us?
I tried to move, but Taema was so heavy, and I was so weak. We weren’t far. I could see the ship through the redwood trees. A little door came down, but as much as I tried to move toward it, I was too weak. Our heart beat so loudly it seemed to be the only sound in the world.
I collapsed against the dirt, defeated. So close and yet so far.
I heard a clicking, whirring sound.
With my fading vision, I looked up into the face of one of the droid supervisors, her machine at her side. “You’re the ones we’re meant to pick up?”
I managed to nod.
“Shit,” she muttered, and then she hauled us up by the shoulders and dragged us toward the ship, the droid assisting her. I watched our legs trail through the dirt. She kept under the cover of trees, looking around nervously. I didn’t have the breath to tell her that she didn’t need to bother, that Mana-ma had already found us and let us go, at least for now.
She put us in the ship and closed the hatch behind us. All sound cut off, and we were in a hallway. Everything was made of metal. I’d never seen that before. Looking up, we could see the metal crosshatches, the boots of people walking past and the wheels of droids.
“I’ll get the medic,” our savior said, and took off at a jog. All fell silent and then I heard the low roar of the engine. I hadn’t expected it to echo all around us, from all directions at once. And I could tell when it left the ground.
“We’re flying!” I whispered to Taema. But she couldn’t respond.
I slumped on the floor, my arms around her, tears running down my face. “Please,” I kept gasping. “Please.” I actually prayed. Prayed to a God. Not Mana-ma’s. My own idea of a God, one who wasn’t a total asshole.
A group of people came running down the metal hallway. About five or six, their footsteps and voices echoing all around me. I was barely conscious. For a moment, when the unfamiliar faces peered down at us, I wondered if they were going to toss us out like so much junk. But my first experience with those from the outside world after we’d actually left the Hearth was kindness.
They’d never seen conjoined twins, and they looked at us with a mixture of awe and fear. They touched us gently, as if afraid they’d break us. I was almost all gone by then, but I still remember those soft fingers laying us down in the sick bay. I could see a gray fog with vague shapes and hear distorted sounds, but that’s it.
A mask was put over my face and I could breathe better. My vision cleared, but I still felt so very weak. I wrapped my arms around Taema and closed my eyes, pressing my face against her neck.
The last thought I had before I fell unconscious was that I really, really didn’t want us to die. Not when we were so close to that big, wide world out there.
TWENTY-EIGHT
TAEMA
Something is wrong.
Or, at least, it’s not what Ensi had planned. I see the tall, towering redwoods of the Hearth. The sky is full of rainclouds, and the luminescent green fog of the bay floats through the air. I smell sea salt and old smoke. It is more vivid than anything I’ve ever experienced.
It’s almost exactly like that shared dream forest my sister and I visited along with everyone else in the Hearth after we took the little pill from Mana-ma’s hand.
I’m not bound. Neither is Nazarin. I don’t see Ensi. This isn’t where we were meant to end up. This definitely isn’t where Ensi would send us to torture us. This is too … peaceful.
“Were you able to dose him with what Kim gave you?” Nazarin asks.
I nod.
He looks around, and then glances at his hand. He frowns. I blink, and a gun appears in his hand.
“It worked. That tooth was full of nanites that worked their way deep into his implants and biochemistry.”
I take a shuddering breath. “How did Kim learn to do this?”
“Sudice’s labs and a brilliant brain.”
We start walking through the woods, cautiously. We don’t see Ensi, but he’ll be here, somewhere.
“How’d you meet Kim?” I ask, keeping my voice low. “Through Juliane?” We both scout our surroundings, but I want to focus on something other than the fact I could die at any moment.
“I met Kim the first time the SFPD hooked me up with her to put in my memory mods. She met Juliane the same day. Juliane and she hit it off right away, started dating. Then they married, and they were one of those married couples that just worked. You saw them both together and you could only hope to have something like that someday. We both helped each other heal when we lost Juliane. I think if we hadn’t had the other person to lean on, we might have both been broken by it.”
We reach a break in the trees and a small clearing. The forest has shifted into an alien landscape. The sky is somehow night and day at the same time; shafts of sunlight-moonlight make the now silver bark of the dream redwoods shine, and the needles are turquoise and vermilion. Even the soil is tinged blue and purple. I listen for birds, but all is silent and still.
“I told the SFPD that they should use Kim to help me in my undercover op,” Nazarin continues. “She’s the reason I haven’t been caught and killed before now. She wants Ensi taken down just as much as I do. Maybe more. I loved Juliane, but my love can’t compare to Kim’s. Not even close.”
We’ve passed through the other side of the clearing, and the forest towers over us once again. I feel so small, so insignificant. It’s as if Nazarin and I are the only people in this Technicolor twilight world.
“Kim knew even if we got proof that it’d never be enough. She’s been developing that false tooth for a long time. Used us,
in a way, I guess, though I can’t blame her. I would have done the same in a heartbeat.”
Like you used me. The unspoken words hover between us, almost a presence. I can’t really blame him, either. It was my choice, too.
My nerves are on edge. I keep waiting for the world to turn dark and ugly. For the mandrake demons to grow from the ground and reach for me, for the sky to burn, for Ensi to appear with a scalpel, pin me down and cut me open.
“So we should be able to manipulate this place? Even you, though you’re not a trained lucid dreamer?” I concentrate, and make a knife appear in my hand. It seems solid and I feel better holding it. It was far easier than when I was in Mia’s dream world, or even Alex Mantel’s.
I remember Kim telling me about the nanites after she’d fixed my tooth: This will hack into Ensi. Once you dose him, he’ll have little control over the dreamscapes he creates. When he goes in to take his pleasure and revenge against someone, he goes in deep, leaves nothing back. If he dies in one of his creations, he’ll be brain-dead.
It was supposed to be a long con. Eventually someone would realize they could affect the dreamscape, fight back and get rid of him for us. I doubt she expected him to go in so soon after he’d dosed, bringing us with him.
“What happens if we kill him while we’re still in here?” I ask.
“Kim never said.”
“Well, shit.”
“Yeah. Guess we’ll find out.”
I feel like something should have happened by now. The cyber forest is eerie, but not as frightening as Mia’s demons with the faces of people I grew up with. It’s such a strange echo of Mana’s Hearth.
I crane my head and peer through the branches up at the violet sky. Where is Ensi hiding? Does he know we’re here?
I start to recognize the tree formations. I grab Nazarin and lead him to the left, to the thin track through the forest that my sister and I have taken so many times. But the redwood forest I grew up with is merged with the dream forest of mercury-dipped trees and their vibrant needles.