Beside him a tender cooing sound broke Mordecai out of his thoughts and he turned away from the window to look at Ilya. She was curled into the seat, her legs as close to her body as her swollen belly permitted, and a jacket was draped over her. Her face was peaceful, and he stared into it for a few moments, transfixed by her beauty. He felt drawn to her in a way that he had never experienced and that he didn’t fully understand. It was a feeling that he was wholly unfamiliar with and yet, he wanted to explore it more. He felt incredibly conflicted. At once he was deeply attracted to her and wanted nothing more than to be able to spend more time with her and learn more about her. On the other, he still couldn’t stop thinking about the relationship that she had had with Ryan. It simply didn’t make sense and he didn’t know how it should change what he felt for her or if it would change what she might ever be able to feel for him. He knew the pain of knowing that he had spent his entire life a slave and a weapon, but it had been beyond his control. He couldn’t imagine how it must have felt for Ilya to know that she had willingly spent time with him, giving of herself to him, and was then betrayed in such a horrible way.
Ilya’s face suddenly crumpled and the soft sound that she had made turned into a whine that sounded as though she were in pain. Her eyes remained closed, but her expression tightened further, and she appeared anxious and afraid. Mordecai reached out and rested his hand on her arm, gently shaking her, wanting to wake her out of the nightmare that she was obviously having, but not wanting to startle her. The whine grew louder and higher, and Mordecai shook her harder. Just as her body jumped and she gasped awake, the van turned, and Mordecai felt the path beneath them become bumpy and uneven. Ilya sat up sharply and looked around, seeming not to realize that it had been Mordecai’s touch that had brought her out of her sleep.
“Everybody?” Aubrey’s voice came from the front of the van. “We’re going to go ahead and stop for the night. I think that everybody could use a few hours of sleep somewhere a little more comfortable than bunched up in seats. There’s a campground up ahead just a little ways. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Gannon and Willow stirred and sat up, stretching and yawning. All three looked around with the slight disorientation of not being sure where they were or how long they had been sleeping. When the van stopped, they climbed out and Mordecai looked around at the large clearing. There were no other vehicles visible and he assumed that they were the only ones to be using the grounds. Jonah climbed out of the van after him and walked around to the back to open the hatch. He moved aside some of the luggage and started to pull out the camping equipment that was tucked there. Mordecai stepped up beside him and reached into the van to pull out what Jonah couldn’t manage himself. Soon the ground was cluttered with bags and Aubrey and Willow began to unpack them. One-by-one Jonah, Gannon, and Mordecai set up the tents. Aubrey followed behind, placing instant mattresses at the front of each and unrolling them so that they filled the floor of each tent. Willow then came behind her and laid out sleeping bags on top. It was a smooth, systematic rhythm that ensured that the camp was set up in a matter of minutes.
The group dissipated and soon all but Mordecai had disappeared into their tents and zipped them closed against the night. It would only be a matter of a few short hours before they would need to get up and be back on the road, but the rest of the group seemed determined to make the most of every moment that they had. Mordecai hesitated getting inside the final tent. When he was in the facility, the hybrids slept in large, warehouse-like dormitories. The brightly lit rooms were filled with triple bunk beds lined along the walls so that as many of the could fit into the dormitory as possible. There was no concept of privacy and the meager comforts that they were given seemed only adequate to establish that these were, in fact, beds. He considered sleeping outside, simply spreading a sleeping bag out on the soft earth of the clearing and enjoying the gentle breeze. As he thought of that, however, he knew that it wasn’t an option. He would be far too visible if he remained outside and he couldn’t allow himself to put the rest of the group in danger because he didn’t want to feel contained within the tent.
Even if he wasn’t able to stay outside for the entire night, he wanted to spend a few more moments in the quiet. Mordecai took a blanket and carried it with him through the sparse trees on one side of the clearing. He could see rocks through them and beyond that, it looked like nothingness. Curious, he walked past the trees and out onto a wide cliff that hung over the edge of a ravine. He settled onto the rock and draped the blanket loosely around his shoulders. For a few moments he simply stared out over the ravine, letting his eyes trace over the patterns of the rocks and to marvel at the depth of the chasm. Suddenly he heard something from behind him. He turned over his shoulder and saw Ilya hesitating beside one of the trees at the edge of the clearing, leaning against it slightly. She appeared to be watching him, but didn’t start or try to move away when he saw her.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hello,” Mordecai said. “Is everything alright? Are we already getting ready to leave?”
Ilya pushed away from the tree and took a step toward him, shaking her head.
“No,” she said. “Everyone’s sleeping. I just couldn’t fall asleep. I noticed that you headed this way, so I thought I could come see if you were still awake, too. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
Mordecai shook his head, possibly a touch too hard, wanting to make sure that she saw that he didn’t want her to return to the clearing.
“No,” he said. “You didn’t disturb me. I couldn’t sleep, either. I’ve just been sitting here.”
“Would you mind if I sat with you for a few minutes?”
“Not at all. Please.”
Ilya’s full lips turned up in a slight, relieved smile and she came toward him. Mordecai took the blanket from around his shoulders and settled it around hers when she sat down beside him. Her smile widened faintly, and she took the sides of the blanket in her hands to pull it more tightly around her.
“There are so many stars,” she murmured almost absently, sounding as though she didn’t fully intend on him hearing her. He made an acknowledging sound and she glanced over at him. “I forgot how many stars there were. After so long without seeing the sky, it all becomes sort of a blur.”
“You didn’t get to go outside when you were in the breeding facility?” Mordecai asked.
He didn’t like putting the question in that way, but he wanted to talk to her more. He hoped that mentioning the facility wasn’t going to upset her to the point that she would decide to go back to her tent. Instead, she sighed and shook her head, turning back to look up at the stars again.
“I think that some of the other women were allowed to go outside sometimes. At least into the greenhouses and biodomes to work with the crops. Not me. Once he had his hands on me, he wasn’t going to let go for a second. He couldn’t bear the thought of not having control over me and he probably knew that the first opportunity I had, I would try to escape and tell anybody who would listen what was going on in that facility.”
“Why was he so determined to keep you?” Mordecai asked.
“I told you,” Ilya said. “We had been in a relationship.”
“I know, but the way you told us, it seemed that he was the one who had moved on with another woman. I don’t understand why if that was the case, he would be so determined to take you.” Mordecai saw Ilya’s jaw tighten and he regretted asking. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have…”
“No, it’s alright,” she said. “It only makes sense that you would be curious. I would be, too.” She looked at him and Mordecai felt her eyes run over him briefly. “I am curious.”
“There isn’t anything about me to be curious about,” Mordecai said. “I was born in the facility. I lived my entire life there until Eden and Pyra came and freed us.”
“Do you know your parents?” she asked.
Mordecai shook his head.
“No. I have no idea
who – or even what – they were. My earliest memories are in the nursery.”
She hesitated for a moment and Mordecai noticed that she was looking down at her belly and one of her hands was moving under the blanket, running along the curve of her growing baby.
“Do you wish that you knew them?”
There was pain and heaviness in the question, something in the words that went well beyond simply inquiring about his past.
“I never really thought about it,” he said honestly. “Growing up, having parents wasn’t something that I ever even considered.”
“How about now?” she asked.
Mordecai shrugged.
“It’s not something that matters to me. I don’t think that it would have any real benefit to my life if I was to find out who they were. I know that they didn’t have me because they wanted me. Now that I know more about what Ryan has done, I don’t even know if they knew each other or even realize that they had a child together.”
He felt Ilya looking at him and he turned to catch her gaze. For a moment their eyes held each other, and then hers left his to move across his face.
“There’s human in you,” she said. “I can see it.”
“What does that mean?” Mordecai asked.
“Maybe you were carried by a breeder. You could have a human mother and a hybrid father.”
“That’s something that I never thought about.”
“Does it change anything?”
Mordecai shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I don’t think of myself as being anyone’s child. I’m just myself. I think that even if I could figure out who went into creating me, meeting them wouldn’t do anything for any of us. They don’t know me. I’m something that they were forced to create. I represent their captivity and the way that Ryan has used and tortured them. I wouldn’t want them to have to experience that.”
“What if they love you?”
“Love me?” Mordecai asked.
Even just thinking the words felt ridiculous and he didn’t know how he was supposed to process it.
“Even if they didn’t know each other. Even if they didn’t want to have a child. They did. They made you. Especially if you were carried by a human breeder, you are her child. What if she loves you?”
“I don’t think that that could be possible, but if it is, I still don’t think that it would change anything. If they did love me, I wouldn’t want them to see how much I’ve suffered. I think that that would cause them more pain than anything. It would be easier for all of us this way.”
“It would?”
“This way, we don’t have to know what the others went through. I already know in my mind that having me wasn’t something that either of my parents, whoever and whatever they were, wanted or cared about, and that they might even resent that I was even born, especially the woman who carried and delivered me. I know that. But I don’t need to confront it. I don’t need to have someone look at me and see pain and hurt and heartache. If they don’t love me, then they would only see a reminder of the awful things that they’ve gone through. If they do love me, even if it is just a biological response, then they would be tormented that I had gone through so much. I would rather just keep going thinking of myself as being separate and that there is nothing but me. Ryan likes to think that he pieces us together like he’s building machines. That’s how I would rather think about it.”
“I’m sorry for everything that you’ve had to go through,” Ilya said.
Mordecai nodded.
“I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through, too.”
“Maybe someday you’ll tell me more about your life before they freed you.”
“Why would you want to know that?”
Ilya smiled at him.
“Because I want to know you,” she said. “You might not think that you are anybody, but I know you are. You’ll find it.”
Ilya took one side of the blanket and held it out to create a space beside her. Mordecai slid closer to her and accepted the blanket so that he could wrap it around his shoulders. Through they weren’t touching each other, Mordecai could feel the warmth of her body increase in the smaller space created by the blanket. It intensified the draw that he felt and he found himself falling silent, just wanting to relish the sound of her breathing and the feeling of them existing in the same space together.
Chapter Ten
Malcolm drifted in and out of consciousness. Each time that his mind started to clear, and he felt himself starting to come back to awareness, he clawed for it, trying to grasp reality and bring himself fully into it. There was pain there, sharp, intense pain, and he concentrated on it, letting the force of it stop him from slipping deeper into the unconsciousness. It began to work. He could feel himself becoming more aware and started trying to evaluate his surroundings. As the moments of wakefulness became longer and the periods of unconsciousness changed from blackness to shady, tremulous grey, the last several hours began to piece themselves back together.
He could feel the cold metal of the shackles around his wrists, the cuffs tight enough that they were cutting into his skin where they hung over his head. His shirt had been removed and his back and chest stung viciously from the lingering effects of the lashes administered by the charcoal-masked member of the Order. His shoulders ached from the weight of his body dangling from the ceiling of the dungeon, his feet on the ground just enough that he could push down into the tips of his toes to relieve some of the pressure, but not enough that he was actually able to stand. He didn’t have any real perception of how long he had been hanging there. Falling unconscious had taken the time away from him, making it so that he didn’t know if he had been there only a matter of the hours that he thought, or if it could have been days that had stretched on in the time that he had been there. He knew that the longer that he had been there, the more danger that he was facing. Every minute that passed while he was in the dungeon was another minute closer to death. If Athan hadn’t figured out where he was and come for him, it was possible that he wouldn’t be able to find him before the Panel decided that they had tired of torturing him and brought him for execution.
Malcolm struggled against the shackles and grimaced as he felt the metal cuff cut further into his wrist, pushing on the skin as if it was going to shear it from the bones of his hands. He felt exhausted and as hard as he fought, he still felt himself slipping back into unconsciousness. The tingling started in his legs, his feet growing heavy and cold, and moved up his body as if creeping toward his head, ready to take him. He couldn’t let it happen. If he allowed himself to be taken by the darkness again, that would be it. There would be no hope for him then. He had to fight. He had to stay awake. As long as he was conscious, he had at least a chance. As long as he was aware, he could resist. He was fully aware that it might not keep him alive, but the harder that he resisted, the harder that he fought, the more time that it gave the rebellion a chance to find him. At least then he wouldn’t have just disappeared. His death could be a sign of what the corruption had done to the Order, a demonstration of what they were willing to do to those who opposed them.
The thought moved through his mind and he immediately forced it away. Even that thought was surrendering, giving in to what they were doing to him. It was no better than the way that they had perceived him before he had chosen to defect. The Panel believed that his body and blood belonged to the Order, that his birth had offered him as a tribute not in spirit but in existence, to whatever they thought was their role in the Universe and his duty within it. He had defected to stop that, to prevent them from having total control over him and forcing him into actions that he didn’t believe in. He had to continue that. He refused to give them himself in life, and now he wouldn’t permit them to have him in death.
Malcolm closed his eyes for a moment and stretched up, moving his hands so that he could grasp onto the chains that hung from the ceiling. Though this caused his wrists to throb, it took some of the pressure off of his
shoulders. This took away some of the tearing, pulling pain, clearing his mind slightly so that he could turn his thoughts to Icelyn. He had been imagining her face and the sound of her voice as much as he could since he had been captured, but now he had something different on his mind. He thought not just of how much he loved her and how he needed to pull through this to be with her, but rather what she had told him and what needed to be overcome in order for him to have the privilege of being with her.
Being with Icelyn was not just that they happened to find each other or even that Athan put them together out of necessity and they were fortunate enough to find love. Their bond, their marriage, was made possible by the sacrifice and courage of many people before them. They were a testament to the lives that her parents had lived and the deaths that they had suffered, to the bravery that her grandfather showed when he offered himself into exile and chose to remain there rather than emerging when the original plans that they had didn’t work out the way that they intended. Malcolm knew that he and Icelyn coming together was far more than just an abounding, passionate love. It was resistance and refusal to submit, and he couldn’t give up on that. He had to keep going. He had to stay strong.
****
“How long has he been gone?” Mhavrych asked, stalking toward Ellora’s house.
He was moving so quickly that Icelyn and Athan were falling behind him, but he couldn’t slow down. There wasn’t a single second to waste and they would simply have to catch up.
“We’re not sure,” Athan said.
“Since after training,” Icelyn added. “I went to look for him and Brayden told me that Malcolm mentioned that he was going to Athan’s house to talk to him. He said that somebody told him that Athan wanted to talk to him and that he was supposed to meet him there.”
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