Shifting Power

by Dacia M Arnold

  “Hey, sweetie, how is your cereal?” Valerie asked, sitting across from Caleb.

  “Daddy came to play with me,” he said stirring cinnamon covered squares in his bowl.

  The unexpected mention of her late husband ripped open her still-raw wounds. “Baby, I love you, and Daddy loves you, but he is gone now. Okay?”

  “Could be his way of getting by,” Hyka said, bringing Valerie back from a sure panic attack. “I used to say stuff like that about my mom when I was his age.”

  “Did he tell you anything, Buddy?” Duke asked.

  Valerie coughed on a cherry before spitting it into a napkin. Duke did little more than ignore Caleb most days. He was out-of-place asking such a question.

  “He said, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

  The blood emptied from her face leaving a prickling sensation across Valerie’s forehead. Her heart pounded, and she stopped chewing. Caleb’s third birthday was in two days, and they had all agreed to surprise him. She prayed someone had let it slip, but the possibility was remote. She scoffed at the thought of Scott Russell’s soul surviving his brutal murder. Ghosts were not real, yet her pulse quickened. She could logically dismiss spooky sensations as a side effect of the awakening DiaZem gene. But she had done the same with her pregnancy symptoms. Four months had not healed the pain his absence created and holding out hope for a posthumous reunion was insane.

  “Did he say anything else?” she asked, taking a sip of water, swallowing the dryness in her throat.

  “Happy birthday,” he repeated.

  Changing the subject, Hyka interjected, “We have ten minutes. Are we waiting for August?”

  “No,” Valerie answered through straight lips. As she had suspected, August’s separation was starting. He would try less and less until there was nothing left between them. Maybe this was the change in the air she sensed, his shift in interest.

  Valerie wore a white gown in the sterile exam room of the medical clinic used by the remaining residents of the Facility. She insisted on using the common amenities. After all, she was no better than anyone else who lived there. With illness and disease isolated to the General Population—those without the Conductor or DiaZem gene—the medical wing she visited mostly treated acute injuries of Conductors. In cases of emergencies, and there had only been a few, Valerie or August would make a trip to the clinical area to assist in immediate healing if needed to save someone’s eyesight, a limb, or a life.

  “Both of you are in tip-top shape as always. How are you feeling today?” Dr. Monica Dominguez did not look old enough to attend college, but the woman was in her later forties.

  “Honestly? I’m petrified and mentally unprepared to have two children. Please don’t tell August.” The women shared a laugh, but nothing about this confession was a joke.

  Monica’s wife, Courtney, stood up for Valerie at a military checkpoint on the road to Denver months before. When she took power, Courtney brought Monica with her to the Facility to live, and both of their areas of expertise were put to work immediately. Courtney had a talent for public relations, and Monica followed Valerie’s pregnancy as a case study for future DiaZem mothers.

  “He might be a doctor, but I am the one treating you. This is between you and me. I promise.”

  Valerie was familiar with the privacy measures in healthcare, but there was no longer a government in place to protect those rights. She was the government.

  “What if something goes wrong?” Valerie questioned. Without August there to calm her nerves, doubts ran unchecked through her imagination. “Is the Facility capable of treating me or the baby if she were to come too soon?”

  Valerie sensed a familiar presence, and the monitor’s beeping increased with her heart rate. The energy differed significantly from how she could sense August when he was near. She glanced behind her. Nothing.

  “Is everything all right, Valerie?” Monica asked, concerned.

  “Yes. I don’t feel like myself, I guess.”

  Monica leaned curiously to see around her at the same empty spot Valerie glanced, and then shrugged. “Well, to answer your question, and to be honest, it has never been a concern of mine that anything could go wrong with your health or pregnancy. I would need to get some additional supplies from the nearby hospital, but otherwise, I don’t see why we can’t take those precautions for you. I can put in the request and have everything later this week. Is that what you want?”

  “Yes, please. I know I sound crazy. I’m definitely out of sorts today, but thank you for humoring me.”

  Hyka waited in her regular spot—a lone white chair—and stood when Valerie came out of the clinic door. They walked together in silence to the elevator. Hyka used her badge to operate the elevator.

  “Why do you still open doors for me?” Valerie asked her.

  “Because, I’d look like a jerk if I let the pregnant lady do everything herself. Opening doors is practically the sole thing I do for you.”

  “You know that’s not true.”

  Hyka shrugged, but she followed Valerie everywhere, helped with anything she needed, and conveyed messages to the countless departments governing the region. Hyka didn’t help her for a title or place of importance. Valerie wouldn’t trust anyone who did.

  “Do you think he’s finally giving up on me? August, I mean. He’s never missed an appointment.”

  “I doubt it. He’d follow you around like a puppy if you let him. Duke said they are waiting for us in the conference room. You realize the Council will drive you for another agreement once your baby pops out.” Hyka blew a small bubble with her chewing gum then popped it back into her mouth.

  “The Council knows damn well I won’t let them have her. I will rip them apart with my bare hands if they even try.” Valerie took a breath and unclenched her fists. “They are still scrambling to buy time without provoking a complete uprising from our allied regions. I don’t expect they’re any closer to figuring out how to attack than we are. The lab is spinning their wheels without Dr. Warner, and if we don’t turn up more DiaZem soon, the World Council will take control of the Pacific trade routes and cut off any resources we might have gained otherwise.”

  They walked along the passageways of the white-walled Facility to the meeting room. Valerie had requested the maintenance manager add color to the bland corridors. Instead of painting, the team contracted artists across the city to contribute to the décor. Like most every structure in the airport and hotel, sculptures and paintings filled the once-plain space. While employment was never an issue in the city, creative work took a hard hit with the crumbling government. Valerie was happy to contribute to less conventional employment this way.

  “What if we lose, Hyka? What if I fail all these people, you, my kids?”

  “Knock it off. No one will let you fail. I’d die before I let anything happen to you or your little monster-spawn.”

  “You love Caleb,” Valerie laughed. “But I shouldn’t require everyone’s help to not screw this up. What kind of leader am I?”

  “A good one.” Hyka badged the door to the conference room.

  August stood when she entered the office. He always did. Seeing his smile released a fury of flutters in her stomach every time, like love at first sight. Though he never failed to take her breath away, she fought back the blush in her cheeks and willed her pulse to slow. The appeal was not real, but a magnetic side effect of their genetics. His negative charge pulled to her positive charge and forged a bond. This attraction made her notice every detail of her co-leader. His shoulder-length dark brown hair was still damp from his shower. His suit was new and deliciously tailored to his strong, chiseled physique. Valerie could not halt the blood from rushing over her face, which drove him to smile. Her blush deepened. Duke pulled her chair an excessive distance away from the desk to give her and her belly room to sit. She scooted the seat up to the microphone on the table in front of her and shifted her attention to the widescreen on the wall which Duke had queued for the conference.


  August’s fingers skimmed her arm. “I’m sorry I missed your appointment this morning. I forgot it was today.”

  “Isn’t that what assistants are for?” Valerie glared at Duke, who ignored her. She gave a short jerk away from his reach out of habit but understood his desire to reach for her was just as powerful as her own yearning to reach for him. However, the last man who touched her did far more destruction than August could ever repair, and he paid for Jarrett’s evil daily. Maybe it was not reasonable, but it kept her heart protected.

  “It’s fine. I’m fine. The baby is fine. I go every other week now, so if you can’t make it every time I understand.” But she was lying. Deep down, there was an unmistakable tug of disappointment in her chest of wanting him to continue to care. Even if she was constantly pushing him away.

  “Ready?” Duke asked the couple at the desk.

  August looked to Valerie, but she gave no indication of being ready. He nodded and screens lit all over the room. Hyka sat to the side, typing a registry of those in Council attendance into her computer. Members of the New World Council became fewer over the course of the Central United States Rebellion—the name the Council had given Valerie's movement. Canada and Mexico DiaZem teams supported Valerie’s northern and southern borders, yet East America was still under Council rule. Over the course of the four months since the Awakening, fewer world leaders appeared on the screen for meetings, and more DiaZem leaders joined their crusade against the Council’s plan to murder every man, woman, and child who did not carry the Conductor or DiaZem genes: a genocide of three-quarters of the world’s total population; nearly half of which had already been wiped out.

  The female DiaZem of Austria opened the meeting. “Valerie Russell and Dr. August Wilkes, you come before the Council to provide an update on your condition as it pertains to your conviction of treason against the Order, pending penalty of death.”

  “As it stands,” August spoke before Valerie could open her mouth, “Ms. Russell is still with child and will remain so until her due date. Per our arrangement, the clinical note has been delivered to the Council to serve as confirmation.”

  “Well,” the male DiaZem began, “now that you are well into your second trimester, the Council is prepared to organize your execution.”

  “Listen, Hitler,” August pushed back his chair and nearly stood as he pointed a finger at the large screen in front of him. “You will not kill the mother of the Rebellion, pregnant or otherwise. To date, there have been no DiaZem executions aside from the one we completed. Even if you had a theory on how to murder Ms. Russell, you have no means to enter US airspace aside from the east coast. And you forget we control the world’s strongest, most highly adept global watch station within miles of our Facility. We already monitor all the comings and goings of the world: air, ground, and sea.” August had not reported on anything they were not privy to. The NORAD watch station sat deep within Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado Springs and could achieve what August said.

  Regardless, Valerie’s anxiousness over August’s outburst quickly grew to irritation. He was flustered compared to his typical demeanor. He reminded her of her father when his chronic pain and bitterness got the best of him. August had not let her say a single word. Why was he trying to provoke the Council? She controlled a slow exhale to maintain her temper.

  “We’ll blow every plane out of the sky,” August continued through clenched teeth. His aggression was something Valerie had never witnessed in any setting. What had happened to set him off like this?

  Wide-eyed, Valerie grabbed August’s arm and turned his body to face hers. A spot of blood soaked through the front of his white shirt beneath his suit jacket. Before she even thought of how to ask him what happened, August’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

  “Pardon me,” was all he said before leaving the room.

  Valerie waved a hand over the camera and cut the feed to the conference. She followed August out of the door as he hung up the call.

  “Are you going to war without me?” she shouted at him.

  “I’m sick and tired of playing this senseless game with them.” He motioned at the closed door she just came out of. “If they planned on attacking us, they would’ve done it by now. All this bullshit about preserving future world leaders is an excuse because they don’t understand what they’re doing. You, Valerie, are the only person alive who’s ended a DiaZem, but solely because of the freak chance there was a massive art sculpture made of a copper coil on the train platform.” Heat radiated from him as he spoke. His tone still calm but stern; his hands were in fists and his shoulders were pulled back. His shirt emphasized his muscular chest. The still-wet blood clung to his wound.

  Even in her frustration and his anger, she warred with her attraction to him.

  “You could’ve at the very least informed me you planned to bait the Council into retaliation today,” she screamed. Losing her cool was the only way to win the battle of emotions. “What’s brought all this on? And why do you carry a cellphone? We don’t use phones. Who the hell is calling you during the Council conference that you absolutely must leave after you all but provoked them to attack?” She stepped closer to him and softened her voice but did little to conceal her anger otherwise. “How and why are you bleeding?”

  He looked down at the growing stain and buttoned his jacket closed as if doing so would remove the blemish. “My son called me from Chicago. He’s keeping me up-to-date on the east region.”

  His mouth frowned on one side when he spoke. Valerie focused on the energy powering the cell phone in his pocket and made quick work of tapping into the phone’s call log. The last number to come through was from San Francisco. Every ounce of deception and hurt boiled to her surface. Before they defeated Jarrett, August was betrothed to the DiaZem there.

  “You liar. Jacqueline called you. What else are you keeping from me? Do you want to take over as leader here? I am not a pawn, August. Not for Lucas, not for the Council, and not for you.” Tears of resentment welled up in her eyes, and her chin trembled. Every ounce of her wanted to trust him not to hurt her, but August was turning out to be like everyone else. “You will never control me. I won’t let you. You can go be with Jacqui in San Francisco. I'm sure you planned to leave all along.”

  The moment the words escaped her lips, the pain showed on his face. She hated the sight of him troubled, despite it being the desired reaction. She turned and stepped away before she lost her resolve. Hyka followed close behind. Lights above her flickered and the phantom sensation she experienced in the exam room returned. The electricity flowed with her down the hallway and disappeared at the platform. Could this be a new Awakening?

  “Are you in on all of this, too?” Valerie asked Hyka as they boarded the train back to the hotel.

  “No. I didn’t know he was talking to Jacqui, but I know about his kid calling him from Chicago. That’s legit. Christ, is there like a full moon tonight or something? Can’t be your period.”

  “Why is he bleeding, Hyka? Aside from his period.” While she was angry about him lying, his injury concerned her. Everyone was so passionate about protecting her, but she could do little to protect everyone else.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Daddy’s here!” Caleb yelled and pointed across the room. He stood up from his meal and rushed to where a chandelier flickered with lights high above the lobby. “Up there, up there!”

  Valerie’s heart leaped as she examined the electricity, drawn to the flicker by curiosity and fear. The bulb was not defective nor on a separate circuit, but the spastic energy was the same. Nervous to investigate the energy further, she knelt by Caleb and brushed his cheek. The stress of her meeting made her forget to ask Hyka what she discovered about the power surge earlier that morning. Deep down, she felt herself on the brink of yet another transformation. Something was coming. Something was about to break. She just didn’t know if the break would occur inside her or out.

  She focused on her son. “All right, li
ttle buddy. It’s tickle time.”

  The light stopped flashing and, again, the sensation went away. Caleb felt it. He knew the energy was there and stopped looking when it went away. Then there was the birthday secret. Duke would be the one to ruin a child's surprise party, even though she couldn’t imagine when he had the opportunity. Valerie pushed the worry to the back of her mind and focused on the little boy in her arms.

  “You are so handsome, Caleb. You look just like your daddy.”

  The boy touched a finger to her nose. “Boop.”

  Valerie mimicked the gesture to him. He snickered and wrapped his small arms around her neck. She held him, swaying for a few moments.

  “Are you getting sleepy, bud?”

  Caleb nodded against her shoulder.

  “Can Uncle Jack-Jack take you to bed? Mama needs to chat with Aunt Hyka, okay?”

  The drowsy child did not fuss, and Valerie gave him to Jack without a struggle. She kissed his head before they reached the elevator.

  “What was that?” Valerie asked Hyka as soon as the elevator closed.

  “Power surge. Yours was the first, but there have been a few more. No patterns or direct fuse connections. They’re still investigating.”

  “Hmm.” She expected more. If the energy was her own, how could it surge without her? She felt and fed all the electricity in the region, five hundred square miles. “Don’t you feel it, though? Not the surge, but like something is about to happen? I can’t explain it. There’s a change in the air.”

  “You’re about to have a baby. I’d say that’s a pretty big change.”

  Valerie rolled her eyes and was silent for a moment.

  “I should apologize to August,” she said to Hyka, still facing the elevator. “What was I thinking, losing my temper?”

  “I would have punched him in the throat,” Hyka said, taking a bite of an apple Caleb left behind.