by KT Belt
Carmen took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “I understand,” she said, her eyes falling as she spoke.
“Good. Let’s go.”
She watched Ava and Taylor leave hand in hand with a boy, laughing and flirting, as she guessed, like whores the entire way. Kali didn’t offer her hand as she occasionally did, though it was becoming an increasingly rare event. Carmen wasn’t sure she’d take it if it were offered. She simply followed her handler as she usually did. They walked in silence, as happened from time to time. This was the first time, however, that it wasn’t because they had nothing to say or because she was too nervous or confused. No, this was the first time that they didn’t talk because Carmen was too angry with her handler to want to speak.
15
The Artemis Incident
Subject: Artemis Age: 18 Status: Prerelease
As it was often commanded to, the pen described that which its master had never seen. The walls of the dorm where she was kept were covered in similar drawings. Her first, from when she was a child, was a makeshift window when it became obvious she would never be let out.
She had grown up in the city, but it hadn’t strained her imagination too much to envision what life was like in the country. In her drawing, the sun was shining—the sun had to be shining, of course. To her six-year-old mind at the time, that was just how the world was. Now she simply pondered why it went hand in hand with the idyllic. There were also clouds but no houses and no people. There was, however, one solitary cow. She vividly remembered debating whether to draw the cow behind a fence. At first, it made perfect sense for the cow to be fenced in. Then, for whatever reason, she decided to erase the fence. Now the lone cow remained, corralled by a ghostly fence that both was and was not there.
Artemis looked at the picture, as she did every day, and then got back to work. There was that drawing and many others from that time. She didn’t draw much for a period after. It was hard to remember exactly when she stopped, as time was difficult to measure here, but she did know exactly when she started again. It was after her first flight. She just felt the urge for some reason, and from then to now, not a day passed without her placing pen or pencil to paper. More often than not, it was because she had nothing else to do.
She usually drew one thing and one thing only now: people. They had a variety of expressions and poses, and she drew whatever suited her fancy at the time. Young, old, pretty, ugly, man, woman, almost anything she could think up, except for one taboo. She never drew herself. Not anymore. For one, it was hard to completely know what she looked like, since she was only rarely afforded a mirror. She used to draw herself, though, more than any other subject.
She drew herself alone in the dark. She drew herself, in countless motifs, being tormented by her handler, Ramses. Eventually, images of herself in every imaginable expression of pain, despair, and anguish covered her walls like plaster. She always found it odd that Ramses never commented on her art. At some point, she could take no more and burned every last picture.
Today, now, she drew her father. She had never known him. Her mother had said her father died in the Terran-Sorten War, but Artemis wasn’t sure that was true. Many potential fathers had come and gone out of their small apartment; none had seemed noble or self-sacrificing enough to do anything like fight in the war. Ultimately, it was irrelevant. She didn’t and would never know her father. She did like drawing him, though.
She liked to imagine what he looked like. Her pictures had started as what she wished he looked like: tall, strong, handsome, and always welcoming, always with a smile. In time, she admitted that the drawings, which she still kept, had to be far from the truth. Now, they were often her best guess, working backward from her face and her mother’s to fill in the missing details. But between the idealized and the more probable, one thing remained constant. In her drawings, her father always smiled. He always seemed eager and ready for her to bound into his arms. She wondered what that would feel like, though she knew she would never know.
Her grip on the pen tightened just then, but she was able to keep from narrowing her eyes. Ramses was coming. She only saw him rarely, but she loathed every moment of it, especially when he interrupted her drawing.
Nothing about her handler could be described as confident. She sensed him on the other side of the door steeling himself to open it.
“Artemis,” he called through the doorway.
She didn’t move and instead continued working, though this time she couldn’t keep from narrowing her eyes.
“Artemis,” he called again.
She raked her fingers through her brown hair and took a deep breath. She had to get the smile just right or the entire picture would be ruined. She leaned back when it was done, but she didn’t stop working.
“So, I see you haven’t forgotten about me,” she remarked. “Are you finally going to let me go out again?”
She heard—felt—Ramses step into the room. He rarely did that. It prompted her to drop the pen and turn around.
“Most assets go out every day. You have only yourself to thank for the fact that you don’t,” he replied.
She thought back to her last field trip. It had been short. After several weeks, she guessed, of being stuck in her dorm, Ramses had decided to take her to a beach. They never arrived. She got in a fight with one of the assets before they could even leave the facility. She didn’t know who the asset was, as she didn’t get many chances to mingle with anyone, but he’d stared at her when she walked by. She got enough of the normals staring at her; she didn’t need it here. He didn’t stop when she almost politely asked him to look elsewhere. After that, he’d looked at the dirt with a broken jaw. The suppression team had been on her in seconds.
It got her wondering. Artemis stood and tried to get a look down the corridor.
“No suppression team today?” she asked in a tone that was just as teasing as it was filled with venom.
Ramses visibly stiffened. “We won’t need that, will we?” he asked, his voice even and steady. His charge said nothing. “You will be released in a week. When that happens, you can threaten and fight people to your heart’s content…till you’re finally put down. But until that time, I am still your handler, and I need you on your best behavior.”
Artemis crossed her arms and was tempted to just sit back down and finish her picture. “Why?” she asked.
“Your prerelease interview with New Earth SDF and Space Force is today. Perhaps, if you can show some restraint, one of them will recruit you and you can finally put all that bloodlust to good use.”
Her eyes narrowed. As usual, she couldn’t help it. “I didn’t force myself to fight Constructs,” she said icily.
“But you never needed much prodding,” Ramses retorted. Her eyes narrowed again, but she gave no response. “Come. It’s best that you’re not late.”
He extended his arm toward the door but didn’t start walking. She noticed long ago that he hardly ever showed her his back. She wasn’t let out all too often, but when she was, she was also quick to note that no other handler acted in a similar fashion toward their charge. She dipped her head to him, smirked wickedly, and began walking.
Ramses followed her out and stayed behind her the entire time. She glanced back at him here and there, but nothing was said between handler and charge. They entered the elevator, and it was half-surprising that he let his guard down enough to press the button. Artemis leaned against the elevator wall.
Usually, her mind was completely blank till something or someone aroused her attention. The skill was so well practiced that she hardly noticed the effort. Today though, for whatever reason, her usual trick of getting through the day without ripping her own head off was failing her. Ramses had mentioned before that she had a mandatory prerelease interview. She didn’t care much for it then and still didn’t now, but it made her think of the sum total of the past twelve years. In a week, it would all be over.
The elevator doors opened into the long corridor t
hat led to the courtyard. There was already a handler and their asset present. The handler looked at her with alarm but said nothing. She did take a few unknowing steps away, though, which prompted her asset to turn to see what had alarmed her. Artemis looked at the girl. The girl looked back at her. The skinny little thing looked terrified. She seemed barely able to defeat a stiff breeze, let alone the hundreds of Constructs that had surely been set against her during her stay thus far.
“Ramses, why didn’t you place the facility on lockdown?” the girl’s handler asked. “Why wasn’t I informed that you were moving Artemis?”
Artemis narrowed her eyes. She was quite annoyed by the habit. She assumed the girl was going for her first flight and tried to think of some sort of advice to offer her. It was hard to think about just how long ago her first flight was. She had flown back to the facility in hysterical tears after observing a family quietly eating dinner together. Her mother never ate with her; she’d kept her in a room where the door locked from the outside. Every night and every morning, she simply opened the door, dropped a plate of food for her daughter, and closed and locked the door again. At least the doors at the facility didn’t make a sound when they locked. Artemis remembered how she’d shuddered every time she heard that sound.
In the end, she could think of nothing to say. She tried to force a smile, for the girl’s sake, but couldn’t manage it. She continued walking and looked at the girl’s handler just as Ramses started muttering a reply. Her eyes glowed a whitish-blue, and sparks arced along her neck and throughout her short hair while she pursed her lips. The handler’s breath caught in her throat as she began to raise a guard. Then, just like that, Artemis blinked and it was over. She stepped outside and basked in the sun.
She rarely got to enjoy it, both during her time at the facility and with her mother. She hated the woman. She distinctly remembered how glad her mother had been when Ramses came to collect her. When Artemis glanced back at her handler, it was quite clear that he wanted to say something about her prior display, but no words came forth. She ignored him and continued walking.
The sun was shining brightly indeed with not a cloud in the sky. It was almost idyllic. Other assets were outside as well, and they all froze when they noticed she was in their midst. Whenever she glanced at them, they looked away.
Then she noticed her. The blonde one was hovering in the air with two other assets. The one-percenters were a short distance from each other. Artemis looked directly at her, in the eye, yet Edge didn’t shy away as everyone else did. Artemis’s eyes narrowed and she balled a fist. From Edge’s position, it looked like she was giving some sort of silent judgement over everyone, especially her. Eventually Artemis sighed, realizing how ridiculous that idea was. Then she saw someone else who annoyed her almost as much.
The boy she had gotten into a fight with saw her at almost the exact same moment she saw him. His entire body trembled. Until today, she never thought a Clairvoyant could show such obvious signs of fear. But Ramses did say, when he wasn’t yelling at her, that there was really no difference between Clairvoyants and normal people.
Artemis brought an upturned palm to her lips and blew the boy a kiss. At first, he looked like he was struck by lightning. Then he just stared at her, utterly confused. She glanced at her handler, who looked just as shocked.
“Do you want me to do this part too?” she asked casually but with an annoyed tone, gesturing to the gate.
Ramses pressed his lips together hard and groaned but said nothing. He either disciplined her all the time or not at all, though it was quite obvious he wished he could do the former more often. He walked past her and approached the gate guard.
Artemis raised an eyebrow. “Wow, such bravery,” she mocked, making light of one of the few times he showed her his back.
Ramses realized his error with an angry frown. He glared at her but still said nothing.
“Shall I call for a suppression team, sir?” the gate guard asked.
Artemis glanced at the man with an ounce of respect. He showed none of the terror that regularly possessed both her kin and normals whenever she was near.
“No, don’t do that. I’ll miss my prerelease interview,” she teased icily.
“Artemis!” Ramses roared. “Keep it up and you’ll miss much more than your interview! That is enough.”
Handler and charge stared at one another. It was not a battle of wills nor a game of dominance; it was simply a measure of how long a week was compared to twelve years. Eventually, Artemis relented by folding her arms and looking away with a huff. Ramses took a deep breath and then turned back to the gate guard. He would never know that he and she came to wildly different conclusions.
“As you can see, that will not be necessary,” he said confidently.
The guard nodded, processed the paperwork, and then waved them on.
“Come, Artemis,” Ramses said, beckoning her on toward the bus that waited for them.
She offered no protest as he took the lead, his prior timidness gone. She did give him a sneer and a middle finger behind his back, though. The gate guard chuckled lightly when he saw it. She glanced at him and blew him a kiss as well. She liked him.
“Where is this interview?” she asked.
“You have some place to be?” Ramses asked back sharply.
Artemis sneered at him again. She wasn’t trying to be difficult with her question. He must have saw her out of the corner of his eye, as he stumbled for a second when she made the expression.
“It’s in the Crystal Palace Mall,” he finally answered.
Artemis nodded as they prepared to board the bus. Every other Clairvoyant got out of the way when they saw her approach. A few handlers and assets were on the bus already, but they all got off. She sneered at each in turn when they walked past her. Ramses made no comment and simply stepped onto the bus when it was clear. She was right behind him when she paused.
The bus driver was staring at her. She could know everything he was thinking—everything he ever thought—but she didn’t need to. His eyes, full of dread, told her everything already. Her face took on a particularly ugly expression.
“It’s been six years and no one’s harmed a hair on your head,” she said calmly. “Maybe I should just kill you and save you the suspense.”
The bus driver made a noise best described as a frog being stepped on as he melted into a quivering puddle of goo in the seat.
“Artemis!” Ramses roared again.
She looked at her handler sidelong through narrowing eyes. Then she turned and looked at the crowd of handlers and assets too afraid to get on the bus with her. She swallowed angrily but kept her reaction to just that.
“Get this fucking bus moving. No one else is going to get on,” she said as she went to her seat.
She sat down next to Ramses just as the bus started on its way. Her handler stared at her. She could feel his fury bore into her.
“Leave me alone,” she said softly.
If he said something, she never heard it. She was lost in herself for the moment. Annoyingly, the nervous bus driver’s shaking hands made the trip just as erratic. She regretted saying that to him, but it was only a small misstep compared to the grand magnitude of them all.
They arrived soon enough, and she promptly got off the bus. She wanted to feel it. She closed her eyes and soaked in the short moment—the few seconds before the people outside knew there was a Clairvoyant among them. The feeling was disjointed harmony as dozens and dozens of individuals streamed to the mall with their own agenda and objective but ultimately the same purpose. And then it ended. Artemis felt the sting of their apprehension at her mere existence as thrown daggers. She blocked out the feeling and opened her eyes. People walked a little faster away from her, giving hesitant backward glances. She sighed softly.
As usual, Ramses had her take the lead. He could never keep it up for very long. She walked into the mall and took a minute or so to admire the exquisite glasswork of the superstructure.
She was rarely let out, but she enjoyed whenever she was. It was a busy day indeed. People of all types buzzed around, mostly families. They were so preoccupied with whatever they were doing that they only noticed her when they got close. She smiled at a few of them; none were returned.
“Your first interview is with New Earth SDF. Their offices are on the upper levels,” Ramses said.
She began walking as he was mid-speech. At first, he was heartened, until he realized she wasn’t walking toward the grand, winding stairway that led patrons to the upper levels.
“Artemis?” he questioned.
She ignored him as she headed toward the railing that prevented people from falling deep into the many floors below ground level. Ramses said nothing else, assuming she just wanted to look around. But then she turned to look at him and smiled. He watched her curiously before it happened. She flipped over the railing and fell into the bowels of the mall.
The Clairvoyant glided down slowly, as if she were supported by air currents like some sort of kite. The sight caused several normals to watch and marvel and children to excitedly point. She happily waved back, completely oblivious to the shouts and curses of her handler.
She stopped to hover just over the reflecting pool at the bottom of the mall. She’d always wanted to do that. Artemis looked up and, from this vantage point, the sheer scale and impressive craftsmanship of the mall almost took her breath away. Unfortunately, Ramses floating down after her in pursuit spoiled the view. When he drew level with her, she noticed his hands were shaking with rage.
“I hope you enjoyed that,” he said, his voice in a forced monotone, though his lips couldn’t conceal a snarl. “I will have no more out of you—”
Artemis smirked and shot upward at impossible speed. She then gracefully arced and spun to land softly on the level she just vacated. People hesitantly backed away from her until she smiled and curtsied as if it were all a big show. Then she disappeared into the crowd before her handler could follow.