by Pintip Dunn
“Your father used to tell me it didn’t matter where his body was in spacetime. He and I would always be together because we were the same person.” Mom picks up a makeup kit and gets to work on my face.
“When he didn’t come back, I shaved my own head,” she says. “It made me feel closer to him. I wore this wig around for months, and you never even noticed.”
“Oh, Mom.” I push her hands aside and wrap my arms around her. “Come with me and Jessa, back to Harmony. There’s room in the boat for all of us, and then we can be together again.”
For a moment, she hugs me back, so tightly there’s no room for any air inside my lungs. And then she sighs, and the breath whistles along my neck. “I can’t, baby.”
“Why not? There are whole families living together in Harmony. We can make a new start, for all of us.”
My mother pulls back and cups my face in her hands. “You’ve always been such a good sister to Jessa. I could always count on you to take care of her. I know you’ll continue to do that.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Don’t say that. We need you, Mom. I don’t know what I’m doing. I need you.”
“I’m sorry, Callie. I can’t leave Eden City.” The words are halting and slow, dragged from her mouth like an electro-cuffed prisoner. It’s as though she’s fighting against something inside her, and she can’t be sure which side will prevail. She picks up a little brush and begins to blacken my eyebrows, her hands shaking. “I’m acting like an anchor for your father. He needs to focus on a particular person, in a particular location, if he is to find his way back to this time. If I leave Eden City, he’ll be lost in spacetime forever.”
“But he may already be lost,” I whisper.
“Yes. He probably is.” She pauses again, as though struggling with a demon inside her. A demon I can’t see.
And then she drops the makeup and grabs both my hands. “Your father’s an excuse. I love you and Jessa more than gravity itself. I would rip spacetime apart to stay with you both. You know that.” Her eyes pierce me with the intensity of a laser. “But she said if I loved you, I had to let you go. She said this was the best way to protect you.”
“Who said that, Mom? Why?”
“I can’t explain, but this is the way it has to be. Nothing you say or do will change my mind.” Her voice vibrates like it’s on a string, like it might break if I pluck at it one more time. “Someday, in the future, you’ll understand. But I can’t answer your questions right now, so please, don’t ask them. Please, trust me, just this once.”
I want to scream, NO! Tell me now.
But I’ve put her through so much heartache these past few weeks. Whatever happens today, there will be more pain in the days ahead. I can see it in the tremor of my mother’s fingers, in the pale skin that’s become even more translucent with worry. She’s made her decision, and now she’ll have to live with it.
If I can make this moment a little more bearable for her, then I’ll do it. I’ll drop my questions. And so I nod, and that simple gesture seems to unlock a chain around her heart. Her spine straightens, and she even manages a small smile.
We’re silent as she shades my cheekbones and highlights my forehead, changing the contours of my face.
“There,” she says a few minutes later. “If you weren’t my daughter, I would never recognize you.” She packs away the makeup tools. “I have to go. The Russells have contacted some of their friends from the Underground, who are going to help you. They’ll give you the details, okay?”
I nod again. It’s all I seem capable of at the moment.
My mother checks her watch. “I’ll meet you in the sanitation room in about two hours. We won’t have much time to talk then.” She places her hands on my shoulders and kisses the air by both my cheeks. “Dear heart?”
I clear my throat, looking for my voice. “Yes, Mom?”
Her fingers tighten on my shoulders. “I trust you to do the right thing today.”
My cheek presses against hard, cold metal, and fifty pounds of linens flatten me against the bottom of the cart. Logan is next to me somewhere in the darkness. I think that’s his stomach my feet are poking, and that might be his arm encircling my knees.
We rode in on a delivery van, packed inside an oversize cube of new linens. The cube was dumped on a conveyor belt. From there, it was untied and transferred to a laundry cart by a bot. The bot is now pushing the cart toward the building’s sanitation room, where the sheets will be laundered before being put on the beds of the lab subjects.
Supposedly, there’s plenty of oxygen within the folds of these sheets. I breathe through my nose. Bad idea. The chemical stench of freshly manufactured cloth makes the breakfast rise in my throat.
Switching to shallow, open-mouthed breaths, I try to keep a mental map of our path. But the cart constantly jerks and halts. I lose track of the turns and just lie there, feeling every bump of the cart against my bones.
Finally we stop, and I hear my mom’s voice. “Quick. You can come out now.”
Logan and I claw our way to the surface and climb out a moment before the cart is lifted by mechanical arms. Its contents are dumped onto another conveyor belt, which leads into the sanitation machine. The linens will come out the other end washed, dried, and neatly folded.
My mother presses a few buttons on a keyball, and the bot spins and leaves the room. I hear the hiss of boiling hot jets, and the lit-up walls flicker. The sanitation machine takes up an entire wall of the room, and a row of empty carts lines another.
“Your Underground contact will meet you here,” my mother says. “I can’t stay, but you can hide in one of those empty carts until he arrives.”
She touches up my makeup and then hands me the kit. “This makeup would last through a war as long as you don’t forget to freshen it every few hours.” She straightens my wig, her fingers lingering briefly on the fake strands of hair. “Remember what I said.”
“Always.” I reach up and give her one last hug.
She turns to Logan. “Be careful. Take care of my daughter.”
She looks back at me, a gaze that sears itself into my memory forever, and then she is gone. It all happens so fast, I almost don’t have time to feel the pressure building in my chest.
Logan and I climb into one of the empty carts, settling our spines against the metal frame.
“Were you able to get in touch with the Underground?” I ask. “To tell them what we learned from Potts?”
“Yeah. My mom called her contact on the board last night.” He takes my hand, tracing the lifeline along my palm. “As I suspected, they were already aware of the situation. They sent a messenger to Harmony to tell Mikey.”
“What are they going to do?”
“Move,” he says. “They’ll wait for you and Jessa to get back, and then they’ll pick up camp and leave. Instead of finding another location, they’ll roam around for a while, until we can be sure ComA’s no longer looking.”
Just as he finishes talking, the door slams shut. My heart pounds against my chest, but the whirling of the sanitation machine drowns it out. Logan puts a finger to his lips and motions upward, to indicate we should take a look.
Rising to my knees, I peek over the edge. A uniformed guard stands near the entrance, scanning the room. I can’t see his face, but his hair is the prettiest color I’ve ever seen. Deep russet red threaded with bits of gold. Without thinking, I stand straight up.
He whips his head around, and I’m looking into the startled face of William, the guard who lied for me.
“October Twenty-Eight.” William staggers backward, his eyes wide. “What are you doing back here?”
I’m surprised he recognized me with the heavy makeup, but my face has probably been haunting his dreams at night. The girl who almost made him lose his job.
“So this is why you helped me,” I say, making the connection for the first time. “Because you’re part of the Underground.”
He jerks his head up and down.
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Logan climbs out of the cart and helps me out. “You know each other?”
“William administered my memory. When he saw what it was, he gave me the chance to escape.” I turn to the guard. “This is Logan. He broke me out of detainment.”
“I was glad to hear you’d gotten away,” William says. “I had no idea they were going to try to dig out your true memory. I swear, if I had known, I would’ve warned you.”
“How’d you find out?” I ask.
“My girlfriend, MK.” His face reddens. “I don’t like to talk to her about FuMA business, for obvious reasons. But she knew I had administered your memory, so she told me what happened.”
I suddenly remember something he told me when we first met. His girlfriend will be the leader of FuMA in thirty years. That’s how he got his job. MK isn’t just Chairwoman Dresden’s assistant. She’s being groomed for the top position.
William’s walking a dangerous line here, between his girlfriend and the Underground. Between his love and his beliefs. Can I trust him? Suddenly, I’m not sure. I suspect he knows more, understands more than he’s letting on.
But I don’t have much of a choice. The Underground has faith in him, and he’s our only contact. It will have to be good enough.
“Are you going to help us?” I ask William.
He tilts his head, studying me. “You’re not here to kill your sister, are you?”
“No! I’m here to rescue her.”
He chews his lip, as if wondering whether to believe me. Clearly the suspicion goes both ways. “Where do you want to go?” he asks.
“I’m looking for a subject in the labs. A precognitive. Can you get us to a computer where we can access the records?”
“I can do that,” he says. “Let’s go.”
We follow William down a busy hallway. I try not to fidget, but my hands keep returning to my wig. Touching, smoothing, pulling the braid onto my shoulder. I’m a schoolgirl. Minding my own business. Following a FuMA guard for an approved purpose. I say these words over and over to myself, but they do nothing to slow the jackhammer of my heart.
William leads us into an area filled with rows of cubicles. “This is the administrative area.”
I peer at the room closest to me. Sheets of clear plastic serve as walls, and stuffed inside each box is a wrap-around desk, a bookcase, and a filing cabinet. Potted plants and flowers cover every available surface.
“Seems a little cramped,” I say
“You get used to it,” William says. “The plastic dividers keep outside noise to a minimum. And FuMA allows us to bring as many plants as we want.”
We walk down several aisles. The plastic dividers begin to change, becoming more opaque as we move deeper into the area, until they turn solid white.
“These offices belong to the more senior administrators,” William says. “The information they handle is more sensitive; hence, the actual walls.”
We reach an office in a remote hallway, opposite a set of double doors, and William goes inside. A curly-haired woman sits at her desk, surrounded by plants. At the guard’s appearance, the woman gets up without a word and leaves the room.
“Andrea’s a sympathizer, but she doesn’t want to be involved in any way. We have fifteen minutes before she comes back.” He stands before her desk screen, his hands moving busily over the keyball. “Okay. We’re in. What do you need?”
I want to find the precognitive, but I can’t forget my first priority. I lick my lips and glance at Logan. He squeezes my shoulder reassuringly.
“Can you look up my sister?” I ask. “Jessa Stone.”
William types in her name, and a few seconds later, a 3-D projection of her file pops into the air.
Name: Jessa Stone
Room No.: 522
Preliminary ability: precognition
Primary ability: telepathy
She’s here. Somewhere in this building, within my reach. Seeing the words on the screen knocks the breath out of me, as if Jessa herself has launched into my arms for a full body hug.
Room 522. Of course. A golden placard with snail-like swirls bears the number 522.
I shiver. Ever since I pulled myself over the cliff, I’ve felt the long fingers of Fate pressing into the small of my back, urging me forward. The feeling was subtle and easy to ignore, a low vibration that wasn’t present in any physical way. I felt it in the same way I could feel Mikey’s telepathic messages to Logan swirling in the air.
That sensation flares to life now. My future memory’s coming true. Bit by tiny bit.
I don’t know how long I stand there shivering, and then Logan rubs my arms through the silver mesh of my jumpsuit.
“Can we search the database by ability?” he asks. “Look for ‘precognition’ under ‘primary ability.”
Willliam presses a few keys. “No records listed.”
I tug Logan’s arm around me. Now that he’s wearing his school uniform, he smells like chlorine once again. “Are you sure?”
William squints at the projection. “I’ve got thirty-eight records with precognition as the preliminary ability. But you only wanted primary ability, right?”
“Yeah.”
We try a few more search parameters. I even flip through the thirty-eight records, but nothing stands out.
I look at the potted plants on the shelves. Spider plants, cactii, bamboo. Many more whose names I don’t know. Sword-like leaves, flowery spikes, wooden stems. I’ve heard somewhere vegetation is supposed to help us breathe. But these plants loom over me. They look like they’re about to topple down and smother me.
“Now what?”
“We go get your sister?” Logan asks.
Looking back at the desk screen, I know he’s right. It’s time to find Jessa. What was I thinking? This whole idea is ridiculous. Why did I think I could waltz in and find the precog?
I open my mouth to agree when I hear a high-pitched scream. The wail pierces through the solid walls and makes me want to double over and grab my knees.
Worst of all, I think I recognize the voice. It sounds just like Sully.
40
“What is that?” Logan whispers.
The cry dies and we hear the scuffle of feet and then the hard, responding slap of flesh hitting flesh. The wail begins again.
William rubs the back of his neck. “You know how they take the inmates out of Limbo after they fulfill their memory?”
“This is where they go?” I ask. It can’t be her. It can’t. She was never supposed to leave Limbo. She’s probably in her cell, looking at the roses I made out of leaves. There’s no way she’s here.
Crouching down, I crawl over to the door and crack it open. Two uniformed guards are dragging an electro-cuffed girl down the hallway. She wears a short-sleeved yellow jumpsuit, and horizontal scars mark up her arms. Her head is bent forward, but I know her profile as well as an eye through the wall.
I fall backward and the door closes with a soft click. I feel like I’m in the river again, spinning crazily and going nowhere. Which way is up?
Logan pulls me into his arms. I look into his eyes and blink. A hundred blinks later, he comes into focus.
“Why is she here?” I whisper.
“I told you,” William says. “She’s fulfilled her memory, and she’s being taken out of Limbo.”
I round on the guard. “There’s been a mistake. Her brain scans showed she wasn’t aggressive. Her ripples shouldn’t affect anybody. She never wanted to fulfill her memory. Didn’t want to kill that man. She even cut up her arms so she wouldn’t be raped…”
“No. There’s been no mistake.”
His voice is flat, his words final. No room for argument.
I struggle to recalibrate my world with this knowledge. Sully isn’t safe in her cell in Limbo. She was raped by a stranger and then forced to kill him. By the agency that’s supposed to be protecting us all.
Tears close up my throat. Something went wrong. Something made them decide she was agg
ressive, after all.
I let out a shaky breath. “Where are they taking her? What’s going to happen?”
William shakes his head, not looking at me. “They’re going to the Processing Room, since she’s leaving Limbo. But I’m not sure what will happen.”
I get in his face. “That girl had the cell next to mine, William. She was my friend. So talk to me. What will they do to her?”
Sweat beads on his brow, plastering his hair to his forehead. “Honest to Fate, I don’t know. This isn’t my department.”
“Then take me to the Processing Room,” I say.
“You can’t barge in. They’ll arrest you and throw you back into Limbo.”
I shake my head. I ran to Harmony when I got out of Limbo. I cut myself off from civilization because I thought it was safer that way. But life went on without me. Jessa got arrested, and Sully was made to fulfill her memory. I can’t wear blinders when it comes to the people I care about. Not anymore. Not when there’s something I can do to help them.
“I’m not planning on interfering,” I say. At least not yet. “I need to see what happens. Think how you would feel if they had someone who meant something to you. Your mom or your girlfriend. Wouldn’t you want to see, too?” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Sully was an eye in the wall, but she was there. When I had nobody else, she gave me hope. Please, William, take me to the Processing Room.”
He looks at the hand on his shoulder. And then he sighs. “Fine. I think I know another way in.”
A few minutes later, he’s perched on a stepladder in the corner of a laboratory. Countless machines sit on tables in nests of wires, surrounding a reclining chair on a platform. The smell of acid permeates the air, and long shelves hold everything from glass slides to circuit boards.
William punches the ceiling and a panel lifts off the metal grid. Dust floats down over us, and he pushes the panel aside. With one fluid movement, he pulls himself into the crawl space above.
“You’re next,” Logan says to me. “I’ll give you a boost.”
Taking a deep breath, I place my good foot into his interlaced fingers. Pain shoots through my other ankle. Gritting my teeth, I grab the edge of the ceiling, and then I’m up.