Love

by Douglas R.

  "Yeah?" Cinder turns back to me. "Trying to play smart? The only concepts you need to know are the Laws of Capricorn. Is that clear?"

  Though I hate it, I must. "Yes sir."

  "State the laws!" he shouts.

  I cringe at his breath and shut my eyes so I don't have to see him so close to my face. I state the Laws of Capricorn in their order, not missing a word.

  "The First Law of Capricorn: Peace is an illusion and the leaders have power over that illusion.

  "The Second Law of Capricorn: Protect the most important life, everyone else is expendable.

  "The Third Law of Capricorn: If caught, a Lebra must commit suicide to preserve the secrets of Pandor."

  Cinder pulls back, satisfied. "Good. You now see you broke the second law?"

  I turn to Rhiannon. He nods slightly and I understand it's best to play nice with Cinder.

  "Yes. It won't happen again."

  "One day all of this will be real. I hope that day doesn't come for you." With that Cinder turns and heels out the door.

  Rhiannon pats my back, "Let's go. You did well."

  We move to the door and walk through a gleaming white tunnel, arching over our heads. "I flunked. I couldn't save the Elder."

  "You could. You just wanted to save more than you could. You thought tactically. You knew you could get the boy as well. But you weren't careful. And that spoiled your report."

  We exit from a door at the end of the tunnel and meet with burning daylight. I block the light with my arm and the miniature city falls into vision.

  A gigantic dome encloses this massive facility. It's a small version of my home city, Doris, full with towers, roads and parks and even people. Not real people, cloned people.

  This is where I have my Amnesia Trials. To a stranger it would look like any ordinary town. But it's not. Every time I land here, Rhiannon injects a fluid that temporarily creates an amnesia that is selective. I can only remember a few details that I am required to. Like the three instructions for the tests. Rhiannon's facial recognition... just in case there are complications and he has to intervene.

  My Amnesia Trials feel like lucid dreams and I am able to conjure twice as much power than I normally do. On one occasion I was madly blasting orbs in a hospital with clone patients scurrying under falling debris and Rhiannon had to step in. I don't hurt him and I can't. I'm hardwired that way.

  I look up at the dome again. It's translucent from the inside. From the outside you can't see a thing. No one else gets inside here except special agents. Not even Phoebe or Thea. It's the most respected training ground I have. And the most important. Because with most of my memory gone for five minutes to one hour, it shows them who I really am and what I would really do.

  And that's the scary part.

  Rhiannon and I walk through the streets, ignoring the clones as if they're zombies and enter a Track Station. They're like stations for roller-coaster rides, only these are used for transportation. There are tons of these running through the deep jungle and mountains.

  This particular Track Station is classified for use only by me, Rhiannon, Cinder and the special agents who work at the Dome (someone has to take care of the clones and fix my mess when I fight Golgorians under simulation).

  We walk on a platform raised above the tracks where a car rests, waiting for us. It looks like a glass egg with two leather seats. A door slides open via telepathic automation just like the Vine, and we take our seats. We don't have to think of where to go because the only place these cars travel is between the Major Tower and the Dome. It automatically jolts into motion and accelerates forward on the tracks.

  The tunnel has almost no lights at all, except for the glowing orb spheres hovering in the car.

  The only thing I can think about is the music in that little device. I did my best not to think about it when I left home. They watch me too closely. I want to keep acting like the Myla they know. One toe out of line and Cinder will get suspicious. Then I'll have Artemis to babysit me every day at his home in the pink pyramids. And I don't want that. They'd probably probe me all over to see what's wrong. There's barely any room to be me.

  Except in my room.

  That's the only place reserved for my privacy. No cameras. No mics. Nada. They have enough surveillance around my house, in and out to detect a fly in my shower so this is their way of showing me a little mercy. There I can listen to all the music I want. I can visualize my iPod resting under my pillow, waiting for me to catch up on the many magical songs it has for me. Like a best friend you want to see when you get home.

  "What's that smile for?"

  I snap out of it and come back to the tunnel. Rhiannon looks like he's been watching me for a good while.

  "Nothing."

  "Nothing?"

  My lips curve and my reflection returns my smile in the glass. "Yeah... nothing."

  "Come on, you never keep stuff from me."

  "You sure?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "If I kept stuff from you, you wouldn't know because logically you wouldn't know."

  "Logically you'd think that because you can't see your face. It's screaming all these signals at me like hey, I have a secret."

  Rhiannon makes me laugh. I don't remember anyone else who does that to me. He's the only one who cares about me. But perhaps there's someone else. A boy. I'm not sure if he's real. Or if he's not. But then he can't not be real because I have his iPod. And Pandor doesn't make iPods. Besides that there's not much music anyway.

  Artists.

  I barely know any artist in Pandor. I stole a few minutes in the morning to listen to Play With My Hair on repeat and another song, Stay by The Dorks. (Since I was spending too much time in my room they sent Rhiannon in and I had to rush into the Scanning room and pretend that I'd slept in a few minutes).

  I know two artists now. But none from Pandor. I start to wonder if we do have any artists here.

  "Myla?"

  I shake out of it again.

  "I'm sorry," I snap, but Rhiannon is no longer beside me. The car's door is open and he's standing outside on the platform.

  "We're here."

  "Oh," I fight against my cheeks that want to blush and take a stride out of the car and into the Major Tower's underground Track Station.

  "You feeling okay?" He asks as we walk in the dim. Clone soldiers are lined across the Station with Zappers poised.

  "Yeah... just tired."

  Shit! I'm already losing focus.

  "You won't tell on me, right?"

  Rhiannon clears, "Well, I am concerned about your attention. It has a direct relationship to your performance and wellbeing. And actually, if I do, it won't be telling on you. It will be reporting."

  "I know... sorry."

  "You're the most important person in Pandor, Myla. I admire you for what you've done so far. But you need to understand the circumstances are different," he stops in his tracks and grabs my shoulders as he speaks into my face, his eyes squared on mine. "The hope of an entire planet is on you. There are two scenarios. You can live up to that hope and leave a legacy. Or you can break a billion hearts. Including my own."

  He lets his hands fall back but doesn't move. My eyes are still locked on his as I digest and turn over his every word. He breaks contact and continues round a corner toward the Vine where the elevators glow blue in the dark.

  I know I am important. My life and all I do is very crucial. But isn't there more to life than following what I'm told to do? Isn't there a place where I can stop focusing on being special and start to feel special?

  The door slides down and we step into the elevator. When we are sealed we start to snake up the Vine in circles. The landscape images on the screen are irrelevant to me now.

  I lust for a person who makes me feel special. And if that person is as real as I think he is, I'll break all of Capricorn's stupid laws to protect him.

  11

  Sometimes he feels like a pivot for Sherri and Matty. It's prob
ably why they're best friends. And why he cares for them so damn much. He can't possibly fathom how badly their summer in Hawaii turned into a disaster vacation. But now he's here to help fix them up with great music.

  He's standing being his DJ equipment up in Charlie's home. The disco ball glitters over the kids from school, swaying to the music. Girls can Dance slowly fades out and Blake waits for the best moment to transition to the next song. And he's flawless at it, introducing One Two Three by The Alphabets in a way that makes the beats sound the same. No one notices a new song is already playing until the new beats surface and when they do, they burst into a whole new frenzy of dance and cheers.

  Blake smiles at his magic. His favorite skills at work. He turns to his Macbook and rearranges the songs, studying the party to guess what they're in a mood for next.

  Electro-pop... Dance...?

  He looks up at the crowd and decides to let The Alphabet's song play a little longer, fading back to the middle of the song and hitting play, careful enough so the party thinks their favorite song has grown a few minutes longer tonight than what they normally experience on the radio.

  Sherri escapes the crowd, holding a cup of POP and sauntering all the way to Blake's little DJ booth.

  "It's great!" she yells over the music.

  "Thanks!"

  She holds out the POP for him. "Thought you could use a drink."

  "At least someone remembers the DJ."

  She laughs, "You know I can't forget."

  Blake takes a sip of the soda. He then beams at the now-playing song on his Mac. About now he's figured out what the fans will like next. He clicks on Round and Round by Butterflies and drags it in place right under the Alphabet's track.

  "Hey, can I have a song?" says Sherri. Blake turns to her and she smiles under her beanie. "I got you POP!" she quickly adds.

  Blake chuckles, looking back at the cup in his hand, "So that's what this is about."

  Sherri laughs, "Nooo... okay, it may be... like fifty percent of it for the song, fifty percent of it because I like you."

  Blake nods his head with humor, "Okay, what do you want? If the crowd will love it, you get it."

  "Yay! Parachutes by Bullfighters."

  Blake grins, "You know, that song actually suits the atmosphere here. Parachutes right on!"

  He turns to his Mac and slides Parachutes right under Round and Round and then Yahoo, another Bullfighters song. He adds a few more tracks in the list and leans back to read the crowd.

  The party has its last round of screaming One Two Three! before the light hypnotizing beats of Round and Round sweep in. It's the type of song that makes you want to sit and nod your head. But not too hard. Just a gentle nod and a smile and that's good for three minutes of your life.

  As he reads the crowd Blake notices Sherri singing along to the chorus beside him. It has lyrics that you can't help but sing along to. It's a song that owns you and keeps you close and makes you its friend.

  Round and Round

  Round and round

  The temples will be burning

  She will scream out loud

  But love will always find you

  Because the world is round

  Round and round

  Round and round

  "I love this song!" Sherri yells.

  "Who doesn't?"

  "Charlie."

  "Why?"

  "She's weird... hey! Wanna dance?"

  "Uh..." Blake looks down at the playlist.

  "Come on. Don't be a bore."

  "Hold on. Just want to run a check—hey!"

  Sherri drags him out of the booth and through the party under the flashing disco-ball lights. When she let's go her hands are already in the air and her body is swaying. "Woooah!"

  Blake turns and jumps and... he doesn't really know how to dance so Sherri snaps and talks him out of the madness. "Dude, let's keep it simple. Hands on my hips and flow with me, okay?"

  He follows what she says and it seems to work out better.

  "Eyes on mine if you lose the flow," she adds. "Don't embarrass me."

  "Sherri, chill. I got this."

  "Oh really? Can I let you go?"

  Blake grins and comes quick, "No. Keep making me look good. I'm paying for it."

  Sherri laughs, taking a glance at the Mac. Her favorite song comes out of the speakers and she screams.

  The Bullfighters are an energetic band with an album full of party and dance songs. Parachutes is the epitome of all of that and Sherri is literally in the air for a full four minutes with Blake trying to catch up with her pace. Parachutes turns the floor into a trampoline and makes everyone reach for the stars. When the song ends Sherri wipes the sweat off her face and takes a break.

  "Man, that was awesome!"

  "You had a Redbull?"

  "Haha, no. It's my favorite song. I can't help it—oh my gosh!" Sherri shrieks and Blake spins around for anything out of the ordinary.

  "Three o'clock."

  Blake turns right and finds Matty smooching with Charlie at the wall. Blake shrugs. "So? He needs to work things out some way."

  "I know but Charlie? Of all girls?"

  "What's wrong with Charlie?"

  "For starters. She has a boy's name. She could be transsexual!"

  Blake takes a second look at her, smirking." Come on, Sherri. Let's go play your next favorite song."

  "Forget it. I'm going home," she steps away from Blake but he's quick to grab her hand.

  "Hey. What's wrong here?"

  "It's not important."

  "It is, Sherri. Come on... for the DJ."

  She sighs. "Later. In the car."

  "And where are you heading now?"

  "I don't know? A closet perhaps."

  "Why don't you help me add songs to the playlist? You taught me to dance. I can teach you a thing or two about being a DJ."

  She makes a small smile. It's not a bad idea. "Okay."

  "Great."

  They head back to the makeshift DJ booth and the Yahoo is playing. Blake begins to tell her how to read the crowd and see what kind of songs get people off their butts and onto the dance floor.

  "Almost like finding the one song that's everybody's favorite."

  "Cool."

  He shows her his equipment and the endless list of songs on the Mac. This is where he chooses the ones that make it to the party's playlist.

  "What songs you think we should add?"

  "I think electro and dance get the most people dancing."

  "How about... Save me Alaska?"

  Sherri peers at the track list. "Who sung that?"

  "Peter Pans."

  "Why don't we play..." She goes for the touch pad and drags Teleporting by Fall Out Cities."

  Blake smiles. It's another one of her favorites. And it still fits the mood just right.

  He shows her how to make the songs transition from one to the next. "It's like gluing songs," he explains. "Until the beats are sticky and in phase. The crowd shouldn't notice when a new song starts. They should find themselves already dancing to it."

  Sherri watches as he slides Teleporting under the now playing track and matches the beats of the songs. It's like a magic trick to her. She tries transitioning with Say Yeah, another Bullfighters song but messes it up. The heavy beats and World War Z zombie-like craze of the Bullfighters is too much to glue with Fall Out Cities exciting and pitched tones.

  The night at the DJ booth is worth it. When the party's over, Sherri, Matty and Blake climb into the blue pickup and drive home. Sherri is on the wheel, Blake in the passenger and Matty snoring in the back. They don't turn on the radio. They've had enough bullfighting music for one night.

  It's a quiet ride until Blake breaks the ice. "So you ready to tell me?"

  Sherri sighs, looking straight ahead as they drive into a tunnel. "Remember when I said Tom dumped me?"

  "It was because of Charlie?"

  Sherri slowly nods her head. Half thankful she didn't have to say it
for herself.

  "Matty—"

  "He doesn't know. I just told him Tom and I broke up."

  "Matty doesn't ask questions," adds Blake.

  "Yeah... he doesn't... the night he dumped me, I saw him cheating with her. All the times he hung up on me... I finally know who he was with... just so many stupid lies."

  "I'm sorry, Sherri."

  A tear escapes her eye and runs down her cheeks. Blake reaches up but Sherri rubs it away first. "I got it. Thanks, Blake."

  "But why's Charlie hooking with your brother now?"

  "She dumped Tom a few days ago."

  "Shouldn't we warn Matty?"

  "He's just trying to get over Jane. It's either Charlie or drugs. Enough about me. Tell me how you met this dream girl again?"

  "In a dream," Blake replies. "That's it."

  "And you think she's real?"

  Blake laughs. But it’s out of disbelief. Not humor. "I can't find my iPod Sherri."

  And now Sherri laughs. But it’s out of humor. And Blake laughs again too.

  "Know what? I have a plan."

  "What?"

  "If you dream of her again tonight, ask her for your iPod back and then break up with her."

  "But we're not a couple or anything. How—"

  "Blake, you have her panties in your room. That says a lot... if it's all true."

  "Alright. And if I do get my iPod back?"

  "Well, that means she's real," she turns her face to his, "And if I were you I'd be zoinked to have a relationship like that!"

  "Spooky, huh?"

  "Just... just double check your room. That iPod has got to be somewhere."

  "I know it's mad."

  "It's crazy, Blake." says Sherri. "Damn crazy... like Matty and Charlie crazy."

  Blake stares out at the road. Myla's face floats in his mind, as vivid as before. He hasn't given it much thought. Myla is a book he is not ready to read. But perhaps tonight, whether he's ready or not he just might have to open that book again.

  And Sherri's words start to make some sense.

  I need that iPod back.

  12

  Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep yourself from thinking about someone that matters so much to you?