Liberty

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Liberty Page 5

by Annie Laurie Cechini


  “Because I can help you, and outside of me and the Underground, you have no one you can trust.”

  “You dropped me! And if I don’t know the first thing about you, how can I trust you?”

  Berrett rolled his eyes. “The fact that I didn’t let you die should be a start.”

  “Oh, you could have.” I eyed Berrett, and then started rifling through my emergency pack looking for water. “Why would the Underground want to help me? How did they even know about me? And what, exactly, is in it for you, Berrett?”

  Berrett folded his arms and looked straight into my eyes. “Because you have apparently done something to threaten the System, and anyone who threatens them is a friend to me.”

  There was something in his expression, in the honesty of his face that felt incredibly familiar. There was rage, a life of suffering ... a major loss. Something only another person who had been through the same sort of trauma would notice.

  “Who did you lose?” I asked.

  Berrett’s eyes hit the ground. “My dad. He was the best man I ever knew, and they shot him dead in the middle of the street.”

  I clenched my throat and instinctively put my hand on his. He raised his gaze to meet mine.

  “You need help, Dix, whether you like it or not. And I can help you. The Underground is much more than you realize.” He pulled a pocket-sized copy of The Unauthorized History of the Third War from inside his jacket. “Look familiar?”

  “Well, sure, but even I thought that was a stupid one to use. The SUN could have figured it out by now.” I pulled a canteen from my pack and threw back a swig. The cool water flowed down my throat and hit my empty stomach with a thud. “I need a minute.”

  I walked across the tall grass toward what must have been a playground a hundred years ago. I pushed the rusted chains of a swing and leaned against the poles of the set. Though I found Berrett’s stance on my dependency extremely obnoxious, he appeared to have some kind of point. And he had saved my life.

  On top of which, much to my chagrin, I was momentarily dependent. I didn’t know Earth well enough to work my way around, and I couldn’t save my friends and find my freedom without some help. I would have to take a risk on someone, and good Samaritans weren’t exactly beating down my door.

  I looked back toward the bench where Berrett sat, leaning forward and flipping through the small history book. My gut seemed to think he was safe, and I was done ignoring my gut. I walked slowly back to the bench, wondering how I was going to explain myself. It had been years since unfiltered truth had come out of my mouth.

  “Well?” he asked.

  Better to just rip the Band-Aid off.

  “They want me because they want this.” I pulled on the chain around my neck until the vial fell into my hand, which was, weirdly, trembling.

  I stared at the glass vial, sparkling in the last rays of daylight. The silver fluid swirled and rolled back and forth like oil in water. I let it fall against my chest, unclasped the chain from around my neck, and slid my mother’s wedding ring onto the chain. The ring clinked against the stopper of the glass vial. I held out the vial to Berrett. Mrs. Ford and Hobs were the only people in the world who knew what I wore around my neck, and I felt as vulnerable as a naked newborn as I watched Berrett stare at the silver liquid inside.

  “What is it?”

  “Eternigen.”

  Berrett laughed. “You’re full of it. Eternigen isn’t real. It’s like the scientific equivalent of the fountain of youth. Wishful thinking.”

  “No, the tooth fairy isn’t real. Eternigen, on the other hand, is.”

  “Wait ... the tooth fairy isn’t real?” Berrett grinned at me as he took the vial out of my hands. “But you’re talking about defying the aging process, being able to fly into deep space, and that’s impossible. Besides, the SUN reports—”

  “You don’t actually believe the reports? This is why I have to lie about who I am. The SUN knows I have this stuff, and up until very recently they thought I was dead. This vial is my ticket to deep space, freedom, a life away from the System. And now, apparently, Eira Ninge knows about it and isn’t afraid to kill for it. The carriers won’t find a body, so with any luck both the SUN and Eira will think I was obliterated in the crash.”

  “Not likely. Even with no body there’d be DNA evidence their scanners would pick up. They’ll know you’re alive, Dix.”

  I ran my hands through my hair.

  He was right.

  “I gotta get more Eternigen and get out of the System.”

  “Why?” asked Berrett. “How’d you end up with that stuff anyway?”

  I pressed my lips together, so used to lying by default that every word of truth took time to formulate. “I wound up with it because my aunt was the scientist who discovered it. Three days later, my family was in a terrible accident and I’m the only one who lived. I don’t remember much about my life before that. It’s all fuzzy. All I really know is that I want something more for my life. I want to find a new world, build a country where people are safe. I don’t want to spend my life sneaking around on eggshells. My best friend Hobs was working on replicating the formula so we’d have enough to get the whole crew out. He was getting close when—”

  My brain went blank, as though a heavy fog had descended in my head. I closed my eyes as all my emotions extinguished, blown out like a candle. I saw the image of Hobs’s lopsided smile burned behind my eyelids. All the smells and sounds of the Académie on Venus flooded my memory and pushed out the scents of Earth.

  I was transported back in time to the day before graduation, barely one year ago.

  “You’re going to get caught before I get a chance to finish this, you know,” Hobs had said. “I’m finally at a point in my career where I can begin to attempt to break down what that stuff’s made of, and your brilliant plan is to run cargo while I do it? How many ways could this go wrong?”

  “Only one, really,” I had replied. “We could die. Or we could earn some extra funds running cargo, which would pay for an on-ship lab. Come on, Hobs, you can’t resist the tantalizing possibility of your very own shiny lab.”

  He had gone glossy-eyed as he had envisioned the possibility. I knew I had him. Just a few more entreaties, maybe a little pout ..

  “You could get out from under the Einstein building, see the world,” I had said. “We graduate tomorrow, Hobs. What are your other options? Go work for the bad guys? Work for the System?” Hobs’s test scores had resulted in the SUN courting him since he entered the Académie, but I knew he wasn’t interested.

  Hobs had put his arm around me and walked me around the Académie campus. “If it were anyone else but you ....”

  “I know. That’s why I love you.” I had planted a kiss on his cheek, grabbed his hand, and laughed at him as his pale cheeks flushed. “Come on. Let’s go get our gear packed.”

  “Dix? You okay?”

  Berrett’s question snapped me back to the present.

  “Yeah, I’m just ... hungry.”

  Berrett laughed out loud.

  “What?”

  “That’s not what I was expecting you to say. So, you think that what happened to your parents was really an accident?”

  My throat clamped down. “Take a wild guess.”

  “I see.”

  I took the vial out of Berrett’s hands and clasped the chain around my neck. “Everyone who knew about this flarking thing is dead except me. The only reason I’m still alive is because I’ve hidden so well for the past five years, and now my cover is blown. If the SUN finds me, I’m dead.”

  “And how would leaping from an exploding ship not result in your death, exactly?”

  “I had it handled, okay? I just hadn’t worked out the details.” I ignored Berrett’s laughter. “Look, if I’m going to die, I’d like to be the one to decide how it goes down, alright?”

  “I guess I can appreciate that. Well, in that case, let’s get moving. You’ll be alright at the safe house. Just keep your
nose down and follow my lead.”

  I hesitated. “You sure the Underground is going to be willing to help me?”

  “They sent me here to save you. I seriously doubt their next move is torture.”

  I nodded, too tired to argue anymore. I had held everything so close to the vest for so long, carrying the burden of responsibility alone for what felt like a lifetime. In that instant, without even being totally aware of it, I handed it all to Berrett.

  It felt good.

  Berrett pushed his visor back down and wrapped his arms around my stomach. I tried to ignore the affect his arms snaking around my abdomen had on my hormones. I took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly as the tips of my toes left the earth. I held on tight to his forearms, but even if I hadn’t, he held me tight enough. I wasn’t going anywhere. As we flew above the trees, the sun sank behind the clouds. Pale pinks and reds streaked across a windswept sky, making way for the periwinkle shades of twilight. A few stars peered out high above us. It was beautiful.

  As we made our way north, the crumbling, dusty skyline of Manhattan grew larger and larger. I wondered what it had been like years ago when it was teeming with life, the center of the known world. I wondered about the kind of people who had worked there, who had decided that space really was the final frontier, and they were going to be the ones to tame it. I wondered if they had known that by doing so, they would leave New York City cracked and empty, like an old beer bottle, hollow and forgotten in the corner of a tavern shelf.

  It was a town inhabited by polar opposites; those who ran the world—the System, really—and those too poor to get off it. I wondered very much about how it had looked seventeen years ago, when I was born. I had no idea where my parents had lived when I was a baby, only that I had been born in New York City.

  I wondered if I had been born in a Settlement.

  As we drew closer to the city, the only exception to the desolation was the Settlement surrounding the SUN Plaza. Berrett got just close enough for me to see the glittering glass skyscraper and perfectly manicured grounds.

  “See that?” he yelled.

  I nodded.

  “Good. Stay away from it.”

  I frowned. What kind of an idiot does he think I am, anyway?

  We turned south and flew along the riverside. The stench of raw sewage incited my gag reflex. The farther we went, the more dismal the city and her people became. The skyscrapers were empty, save for a few flickering candles that shone pale through the filthy lower level windows. Broken signs were rotting off abandoned shops and the streets were filled with tattered beggars. Berrett came to a stop in front of a run-down brick building. Above the wrought-iron door was a faded painting of crossed Irish and American flags. The smell of smoke, alcohol, and vomit wafted out from the inside. A rotting sign above the painting read McSorely’s Old Ale House, Established 1854.

  “This is your safe house?” I asked. “It looks like a lot of things, but safe isn’t one of them.”

  NASTY OLD BARS AND OTHER GROSSNESS 6

  THE FRAMED PICTURES AND PAPERS ON THE WALLS WERE FADED, frail, and wildly juxtaposed with an enormous cast-iron fish that hung behind the bar. Candelabras jutted out from the walls—most places had used up their government-issued power by this time of night, and McSorley’s was no exception. Above the bar hung the most disturbing chandelier I had ever seen. Wax from the candles dribbled into layers and layers of dust, and what appeared to be wishbones dangled off the crossbar. Only slightly more disgusting was the low-hanging smoke and dubiously clumped sawdust piled on the floor.

  Ew.

  “I don’t like this,” I hissed.

  “You got a better idea?” asked Berrett. He took my hand and pulled me deeper into the crowded room. “I promise, you’re safe.”

  “I bet this place is literally crawling with health code violations. I just met you a couple of hours ago, and may I remind you, you dropped me.”

  “Would you stop bringing that up? You’re fine.”

  “Fine? I—”

  Berrett whirled around and slapped his hand against my mouth. “We have to keep a low profile, and I would really appreciate it if you would just stop talking for a second. Okay?”

  I nodded. His hand was still covering my lips. I thought about sticking my tongue out, but I think he could see where my thoughts were headed and he pulled his hand away before I could.

  Berrett tucked me into a corner of the room. “Wait here.”

  He elbowed his way to the bar. I watched him exchange words with the barkeep—a tall, rugged looking man with a salt and pepper mustache and an enormous pair of glasses. He looked more like a bouncer than a barkeep, and he would have been intimidating if it weren’t for his tendency to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his fist and smile broadly as he spoke with Berrett. The exchange ended, and Berrett returned to the corner I had curled into.

  “Alright, let’s get you some food,” he said. “You look awful.”

  “Nice. Thanks. What a gentleman,” I mumbled.

  He was probably right, though, and frankly, I was starting to feel awful.

  Berrett grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the back wall of the bar. I hated being pulled around like a little child. I was used to being the one calling the shots. For the moment, however, I had no alternative. Berrett was right. I had to lay low if I wanted to get off Earth in anything other than a body bag.

  Berrett stared at the back wall, looking for something among the faded tapestry of dust-covered frames. Then he reached for a door handle I hadn’t even seen.

  “Wait here for a second, okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He disappeared into the wall and I was left to speculate on the stories of the poor souls around me. Most of the patrons were clad in the usual System garb. Patched up jeans, flannel shirts with frayed cuffs, heavy boots—stuff you could wear for twenty years if you had a good sewing kit. I guessed that most of the patrons would never have the money for another pair of shoes. Most of them probably couldn’t afford the ale they were drinking.

  A few minutes later, Berrett poked his head back through the wall and dragged me in. Behind the wall was a room that, for all intents and purposes, you would never know existed if you weren’t looking for it.

  Round tables were surrounded by rickety chairs that looked like they were from another century. A haze of gossamer smoke hung in the air. Cards, laughter, conversation—all came to a screeching halt as I stepped into the room.

  A red-haired woman with deep lines carved into her face stared at me over thick glasses. She slid off a wobbly bar stool and cleared her throat. “You got a name, girl?”

  I looked at Berrett. He nodded.

  “Tabitha Dixon.”

  “Well, Tabitha, you’re a wanted woman.” She stepped toward me and pointed to a huge screen on the wall behind me. “Check out the news.” She nodded to a younger girl and the screen came to life. An image of my face was displayed with the name Trudy Loveless below it.

  “... that Tabitha Ray Dixon, long thought dead, is in fact alive and at large. She is wanted for crimes against the System of United Nations. If you have any information as to her whereabouts, please contact us immediately.”

  “Flarking skud,” I said. I slid into a chair and started picking at my fake fingertips. Trudy Loveless was no good to me now.

  The redhead nodded to the girl again and the screen went blank.

  I was in deep skud.

  “Do you know where you are? Miss Dixon? Tabitha?”

  Whether it was the smoke or the hunger or the shock of being discovered, I wasn’t sure, but something was making the room spin violently before my eyes.

  “Berrett?” I whimpered.

  Almost immediately, a plate of cheese and crackers was thrown on the table, along with a glass of ginger ale.

  “You need to eat something. Try this.” He nudged the food toward me.

  Against my better judgment, I put a slice of the cheese bet
ween two crackers and started chewing. About three bites in, I felt my stomach hit my shoes. I fell to the sawdust and puked my guts out.

  “Frank, more sawdust!” yelled Berrett.

  “Need ... ginger ale,” I whispered. Stars danced in front of my watering eyes. There had been far too much vomiting in my life lately.

  Berrett leaned down and handed me my glass.

  I nodded my thanks, swirled the ginger ale around in my mouth, and spit into the sawdust.

  “Useful stuff, that,” I said. Berrett chuckled as he helped me crawl back into my chair. I tried nibbling on another cracker—minus the cheese. In fact, at that particular moment, I considered swearing off cheese for the rest of my life.

  “You’re going to be okay, kid,” said the redhead. “Just shock, I bet.”

  “Mmfine,” I mumbled. I closed my eyes and slumped back in the chair.

  “Sure you are. Here, Berrett, stick this on her forehead.” I felt a cool cloth being placed on my forehead and immediately felt less disgusting. “Berrett, what’s her name?” I asked.

  “I’m Tess,” said the redhead. “While you’re recovering, we’re going to take care of some business. Renny, you’ve been an apprentice on a number of missions and have proven your metal ten times over.”

  I heard Tess walk back toward her stool. I peeked out from under the cloth to see who Renny was.

  “You’re one of our bravest initiates yet,” added Tess. “You should be proud of yourself.”

  To my surprise, a little boy, who couldn’t have been more than ten years old, sat perched on Tess’s stool, cradling a glass that I sincerely hoped was filled with water and smiling at the crowd like he had just won Child of the Year.

  “Okay, Ren, quiz time,” said Tess. “What is the mission of the Underground?”

  “To reclaim our freedom.”

  “How?”

  “By rallying all Underground forces across the System and claiming a planet for ourselves, and by using any means necessary to weaken the SUN.”

  My jaw dropped. I had no idea the Underground was so ambitious.

 

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