Mom nods, still smiling. “By all accounts, by the time Sovereign Emileia is of age, she will be a very effective leader. It’s really quite flattering that she wanted our advice.”
Apparently they consider some things as important to keep secret from me as from any Duchas. I just wish I knew why.
* * *
Later that night, I stare up at the crystal dreamcatcher hanging over my bed, trying to force more memories to surface. Like who gave me that thing. Should I ask Trina on Monday if it was her? Somehow, I don’t think it was. If I ask, and it was another girl, it’ll probably piss her off.
Frustrated, I try to make myself to remember something as simple as my sixteenth birthday party. For a second I almost catch a flash of something—Sean O’Gara’s face?—but then it’s gone. I probably imagined it.
I think about the two clear flashes I did get, of Trina. Then about everything else that happened today, including my awesome game tonight. But as I drift off to sleep, I’m mostly reliving that inexplicable jolt I got when M touched me.
When the early-morning sun wakes me, bits of a dream still linger. I lie still, trying to hang onto the details, hoping for more clues about things I’ve forgotten. I was at school, in a classroom, and M was definitely there. As I concentrate, more comes back.
M and me, sitting near each other. A teacher talking. M was talking, too…except her lips weren’t moving. Instead, it’s like I could hear her voice inside my head, saying something about meeting after school. And then I thought back to her, agreeing. Wacky. Obviously not a real memory. More like wishful thinking based on what my parents sometimes do. But why with the Sovereign?
Disappointed and a little disturbed, I shake off the weird dream, glance up at the dreamcatcher, glinting in a sunbeam, and climb out of bed.
It takes Dad and me maybe an hour to fix the computer I brought from school—just a matter of finding the burned-out connection in the motherboard and re-soldering it. It’s fiddly work and we don’t talk much while we’re doing it. That stupid dream I woke up to keeps niggling at me. I’d rather remember real stuff, like I did last night after the game.
“There. That should do it.” Dad sets down the solder gun. “You want to put the case back on?”
I fit the housing over the components and pick up our tiny allen wrench. “Thanks, Dad. Ms. Raymond will be happy.” The bolts secured, I glance over at him. “I wish you and Mom would tell me at least part of what’s really going on. Like the real reason the Sovereign was talking to you at the game last night.”
“I’m sorry, son. You caught us off-guard and we weren’t sure what to say, which I guess was obvious. But there are issues—political issues—that we don’t feel free to discuss with you just yet.”
“Because of what the Healers said could happen?” I’m really not buying that anymore.
He sighs and looks away from me. “Not entirely. Sean O’Gara told you that you went to Mars with them last spring?”
“Yeah.” I hold my breath, hoping he’s finally going to give me some real information.
“While there you apparently heard things, saw things, that you, ah, shouldn’t have. At least, that’s what we’ve been told.”
“Things? What things?”
Dad lifts a shoulder. “We don’t know. They won’t tell us. Something highly classified. Something that could put you, perhaps all of us, at risk, should you remember.”
“You mean…you don’t want me to get my memory back? Because it might be dangerous?” I thought all that crap about damaging my mind or health was bogus. But I never expected this!
“We were told it might be safest if you don’t.” He sighs. “I realize this is terribly frustrating, Rigel, and perhaps your memory will spontaneously return at some point. I hope so. But if it does, if you start to remember things that seem as though they could be risky for you to know…”
“I should keep my mouth shut?”
He nods, his eyes sympathetic. “That would be safest, yes.”
In other words, I shouldn’t even tell Mom and Dad. I wonder if it’s something Sean knows? M—the Sovereign—must. But apparently there’s no point asking.
“Thanks, Dad. And tell Mom not to worry, okay? I won’t do anything to put you guys in danger, no matter how much I want to know everything that happened last year.”
I don’t promise to stop trying to find out, though.
17
Switching impulse
Trina calls twice over the weekend, mostly to ask if I’ve remembered anything else. I can tell by the way she asks, she means about her. But I haven’t. Not about her or anybody else, unless you count that ridiculous dream about M. Which I’m not stupid enough to mention to Trina.
She also insists on giving me a ride to school Monday. I know we weren’t dating when I left Jewel last spring. Now I think of it, the fact she’s only called our land line, not my cell, probably means she doesn’t even have that number. But since it’ll be easier to bring the computer back in her car than on the bus, I say that’ll be fine.
I’m carrying the computer from her little yellow sports car to the school when I see M and Molly getting off their bus just ahead of us. I half expect Trina to avoid them, but instead she wraps her hands around my arm and sort of steers me their way.
“Hey,” she calls out in a kind of singsong voice, “did you hear the good news? Rigel is starting to get his memory back!”
M and Molly both stare at me. Molly looks surprised and curious, but M looks almost shocked.
“Really?” Her green eyes go wide and now she sounds happy, eager. “What have you—”
“He’s remembered me, mostly,” Trina tells her with a smirk. “I suppose it makes sense that his most important memories would come back first. Right, Rigel?” She slants a simpering glance up at me.
“Uh, I guess? Just a couple of flashes so far, but I definitely—” I break off at the look on M’s face, hurt and almost betrayed.
“Nothing about… I mean…” she begins.
Trina titters loudly. “Sorry, Marsha, guess you’re just not all that memorable. C’mon, Rigel.” With a last smirk over her shoulder, Trina drags me toward the school.
“That wasn’t very nice.” I glance back to where M is still standing on the sidewalk looking stunned. “I know you and M don’t get along, but—”
“Not nice?” Trina bites out the words. “Maybe nobody’s told you yet, but Marsha broke my nose last spring. That’s a lot more not nice than anything I just said, don’t you think?”
I just shrug. Because the look I saw on M’s face just now bothers me almost as much as that crazy dream I had about her over the weekend.
M is the last person to arrive in first period. She doesn’t even glance at me as she goes past. Is she mad at me because of what Trina said? There’s no telling with girls.
Several times during class I catch myself watching her across the room. I feel even more weirdly drawn to her today than all last week. Something I’ve got to fight, for about a dozen different reasons.
Near the end of class I notice she and Molly are whispering together. No non-Martian, including the teacher, can probably tell, but their lips take turns quivering, a sure sign. Then M turns her head slightly, like something Molly said surprised her. After a second, she nods. And starts to look my way, so I immediately focus on my book. Wonder what Molly told her? Whatever it was, M looks less upset than when she came in.
When the bell rings, she gets up and heads straight for me. Startled, I just stand there.
“Rigel, I’m sorry I let Trina get to me earlier. It’s not your fault she acted like that, even if it’s true all you’ve remembered so far is…her.”
I shrug. “Like I said, just a quick flash or two, after the game Friday. But it’s something. Hoping more will start coming back to me now.”
“I hope so, too. Maybe something a little more…pleasant than Trina.” She doesn’t sound nearly as snarky as Trina did. More like a joke aimed at her
self. “Did you and your dad manage to fix the computer? I was going to ask when I saw you carrying it, before—”
Before Trina got all bitchy. “Yeah, we did. Fried connection in the motherboard. All better now.” I have to stop myself from leaning in closer. It’s like she’s magnetic or something. Weird.
“That’s great. Not that I doubted for a second you could.” She smiles up at me, a warm smile that makes my stomach do a flip. “Well, I’ll…see you in Chemistry. Bye, Rigel.”
Giving me something that might almost be a wink, she heads down the hall. I stare after her for a long moment, appreciating her figure, which is every bit as good as Trina’s. Then I give myself a shake.
This is the Sovereign I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy about! Not okay. Even if we did date briefly a year ago. That was then, this is now. Whole different ballgame. I need to remember that.
* * *
Trina is still clingy in Spanish but I’ve about had enough of her, after the stuff she said to M this morning. Looks like the guys were right about Trina, that she’s basically a shallow, vindictive brat, no matter how sweet she sometimes acts. Toward me, anyway.
“I was thinking,” she whispers, “maybe after football practice today, when I drive you, we don’t have to go straight to your house. You know?” There’s no mistaking what she has in mind, the way she flutters those lashes at me.
“Yeah, well, thanks, but…I’m taking the bus. Sorry.”
Her eyes go wide, like she must have heard me wrong. “But Friday night you said… We…”
“I know. I remembered us being together last fall. Doesn’t mean we automatically have to be now. I already told you I’m not ready for anything like that while so much is still blank.”
I can tell she wants to argue more but the teacher looks our way so she doesn’t. In Chemistry, though, she takes advantage of the fact we’re lab partners to start back up.
“I’m sorry, Rigel, I said I wouldn’t push and I totally have. I’ll give you whatever space you need, okay?”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”
From the way her lips tighten, that’s not what she was hoping I’d say but she lets it drop. For now.
In Lit class, M makes a point of talking to me again. Not about anything important, just the reading assignment. Trina glares at her the whole time but M only looks at me. Which makes my nerves tingle to where I can barely hear what she’s saying. Even after class starts, her seat’s close enough I have that skin-too-tight feeling all period.
I kind of like it, no matter how much I know I shouldn’t.
Then, at lunch, M somehow ends up next to me in line, so close I’m positively jumpy. When we’re almost to the cashier, I reach for a chocolate milk at the same time she’s reaching for skim and her hand accidentally brushes mine.
“Sorry,” she whispers when I flinch at a jolt nearly as strong as that one Friday. But she has that expectant look again, which tells me her touch wasn’t an accident at all.
“Why do—? I mean, what’s the deal with that…electrical thing? Do you always do that to people, like you do to computers?” I whisper super-quietly.
“Not exactly. It’s—”
“Come on, Marsha, you’re holding up the line,” Trina says from behind me, even though I’m the one who made M stop.
M gives a little shrug and hands her card to the cashier to be swiped. Without finishing whatever it was she was about to say. As she walks away, I realize that the second she brushed my hand and gave me that jolt, my jumpiness went away. Instead, I again have that extra-wide-awake feeling again. Huh.
I’m half tempted to follow M to her table, demand more answers. But I can’t, not in front of other people, most of them Duchas. So I go to my regular table with the guys from the team. Trina sits there, too, with a few other cheerleaders, but at least she’s not all over me now. Guess what I said to her in Spanish bought me at least a temporary reprieve.
I think back to my only bits of memory so far, both involving Trina. Who, the more I’m around her, I don’t even like very much. Why did I ever go out with her? Just because she’s pretty? Was I as shallow as Trina last year?
Molly O’Gara walks past on her way to M’s table and Trina calls out to her. “Hey, Molly, you know about the cheerleading cookout this Saturday, right? Your needy neighbor isn’t coming for another sleepover, is she?”
“M isn’t needy Trina. We’re friends. I’ll let you know about the cookout by Friday.” Molly obviously doesn’t like Trina much either, even if they’re on the cheer squad together.
On the way to Government, I run into Sean. When we walk in, M and Molly are whispering together again.
“So, M and Molly had a sleepover at your house this weekend?” I don’t manage to sound quite as casual as I meant to.
Sean frowns slightly. “Yeah. Otherwise her aunt wouldn’t have let her stay late enough for—” Bri and Deb smile at us as they walk past and he breaks off. “Anyway, they’re really good friends, especially since…Ireland.”
Late enough for what, I wonder? Obviously more was going on than a girls’ sleepover, probably something to do with M being Sovereign. Which her aunt and uncle know nothing about, according to Sean. They don’t even know she’s Martian, just took over raising her when her Duchas adoptive parents were killed when she was little. It must be weird—and hard—keeping the truth hidden from them all the time.
Kind of like my parents are doing to me?
Partway through class, the teacher reminds us to pair up for a project on the Constitution that will be due by the end of the quarter. M immediately turns to me with a smile.
“Rigel? Will you be my partner?”
“I, uh—” Sean, behind her, looks as startled as I am. And a lot less thrilled, though he quickly tries to hide that. “Um, Sean and I sort of agreed to be partners already, didn’t we, Sean?”
Now he’s trying to hide a look of relief. “Sort of. But if you’d rather—”
“No, it’s fine,” M says quickly, with a glance at Sean. “Molly?”
“Sure, M.” Molly sounds enthusiastic, but her expression is wary as she looks back and forth between us. I get why.
And she’s right. I absolutely don’t need to complicate things between Sean and M more than they already are. Friendly as she’s acting today, being her partner would probably do just that.
* * *
We’re back to bench presses in Weight Training today. I half expect Sean to work with someone else so I can’t pester him with questions, but he doesn’t. In fact, he broaches the exact topic I was hoping to bring up.
“Hey, man, it would have been fine if you’d paired up with M in Government,” he tells me as we’re setting up our bench. “Sorry if I made you back off. Just took me off-guard is all.”
I shake my head. “Nah, I’m no poacher. Even if you two are sort of on the outs right now.” I leave that hanging, hoping he’ll pick up on it, elaborate.
He doesn’t, just shrugs. “Thanks but…seriously, don’t worry about it.” I can tell it costs him something to say that, though.
Feeling suddenly awkward, because I really am way more attracted to M than I should be, I change the subject. Slightly. “So, that so-called sleepover at your house. I got the impression it was something her aunt and uncle shouldn’t know about?”
“Yeah. Now she’s actually Sovereign, with duties and stuff, it’s harder to keep them from getting suspicious. We live right around the corner and her aunt likes and trusts my mum, so most of the, um, official stuff happens at our house.”
I finish clipping the weights onto the bar. “What kind of official stuff?”
“This weekend was a meeting with the Echtran Council. Or what’s left of it. They’re down two members, needed to talk about appointing replacements. Among other things.” He seems relieved to be talking about less personal stuff.
“Oh, right, guess my grandfather had to resign his spot when he left to become Regent. Somebody else left, too?” I
don’t actually know much about the Council except that Grandfather was on it. I’ve never even met any of the other members. That I can remember.
Sean lies down on the bench and hefts the bar. “Yeah, one of the other Scientists. They suggested my dad or Devyn Kane fill one of the spots, but of course M was totally against it. Oh, not ‘of course’ to you, I guess. Sorry.”
“Because of stuff that happened…earlier?”
He nods. “Besides, they’re both Royal, which would throw off the balance even more. M insists they have to appoint two more Scientists, said she’d ask your grandfather for suggestions. They weren’t happy.”
“But…they have to do what she says, don’t they? I mean—”
“In theory, but because she’s still underage, they want her to at least take their advice, like she used to before she got Acclaimed.”
“And she won’t?” That seems kind of dumb. I’d think she’d want all the advice she can get, being just sixteen and new to the whole idea of being Sovereign and Martian and everything.
Sean does two more reps and sits up. “Not so much. I don’t think she trusts them after— I mean, they never completely saw eye to eye on some things, but now that’s even more true. Which can get awkward, since Mum’s on the Council.”
I wonder if that’s one of the things that led to M breaking up with Sean, but can’t think how to ask. I get on the bench and start lifting, then glance at the weights on the bar. Huh. Ten more pounds than Thursday, but it feels like half as much. Weird. I wish I could put on more weight, test my limits, without attracting attention. Too risky, though.
Shrugging off the idea, I remember something else I wanted to ask Sean. “My dad finally admitted over the weekend there are things he and my mom don’t want me to remember. Like…classified stuff. Do you know what he’s talking about?”
When he doesn’t answer right away, I look up to see him frowning down at me. “Look. M made me promise not to lie to you, so I won’t. But I’m not sure that means I should tell you everything, you know? I mean, even your folks don’t know about that, um, classified stuff. Hardly anybody does, outside of the Council and M.”
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