by Ann Bakshis
I take a plate sitting on the counter across from her and place some eggs, bacon, and toast onto it. Nan pours me a glass of orange juice as I sit on the stool. I try to eat quickly so I’m not around Nan any longer than I have to be. She finishes the dishes, puts them away, and sits on the stool next to me.
“Frey told me you’re from the Outer Limits,” she says with a tone of disdain. “How did you wind up in The Litarian Battles?”
I swallow the food I have in my mouth and drink some juice before responding, giving me time to come up with a reasonable answer. “I’m not sure. According to Head Master Edom, the Keepers wanted us to participate. I don’t know how they drew the names.”
Her eyes bore into me. I get the feeling she’s trying to read my mind, or at least my mannerisms. “You lived in the orphanage?”
Is that a question or a statement? I can’t tell.
“Yes. Since I was three.”
She seems to mull the answer over, thinking it through before speaking. “I’ve often wondered what it’d be like living in the Outer Limits. Leader Fallon usually sends Tarsus rule-breakers or miscreants to live there. I wonder how such a nice girl like yourself got placed there.”
“What are you implying?” I ask, my temper rising. I keep my eyes focused on my plate, which is almost empty. I don’t want to see what kind of expression Nan has on her face.
“Your parents, Max. Do you remember them?”
“My parents are dead,” I snap.
“Oh? How did they die?”
“In an industrial accident at a smelting plant in the Outer Limits.” I place my fork down, and am in the process of getting up when Nan places her hand on my arm preventing me.
“You might want to rethink that, Max. At least, do a little research at the Archive. I’m sure Frey can get you in.”
She gets up, takes my plate, and washes it. I’m half-way through the common room when I change direction and run outside to the beach. The sand is cold and damp, but I don’t care. I head south, walking along the shoreline, trying to distance myself from everything.
So, I am from Tarsus. What did my parents do to cause our expulsion? Where did we live in this massive society? Will I ever remember anything from my youth? Is three years old an appropriate age to begin having memories? Why is Nan giving me clues to my past? Avery was adamant that I don’t remember, so why is Nan pointing me where to go?
I keep walking as my name washes over me. The voice is muffled against the crashing waves, but as it gets closer, I start to recognize it. Garrett steps in front of me, stopping my forward momentum and surprising me by his sudden appearance here out by the shore.
“Hey, Max, you all right?” he asks.
“No, I’m not. All I want to do is go back to the Outer Limits and forget about this whole thing. I don’t want to be in The Litarian Battles. Why were we sent here?” I begin to cry. I’m not sure why I suddenly feel so emotional, but I can’t stop.
Garrett pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. “Tell me what happened.”
I spill it all. Brink, the nightmares, Frey’s parents, and even my ability to handle another players’ weapon. I’m not sure why I tell him, it just seems like the right thing to do. Everything comes out until I feel hollow inside.
“Come with me,” he says, taking my hand and directing me up a partially buried wooden staircase.
We climb up a small sand dune, cross over a few yards, until we reach a road. We go several blocks before Garrett turns left. The house we’re approaching is identical to Frey’s, but Lok is standing in the doorway, holding it open for us. The interior of the home is almost the same as Frey’s, with a slightly different pattern on the rice paper covering the walls. Garrett has me sit on one of the couches while Lok bolts the door.
“How did you know where I was?” I ask Garrett, Lok joining us on the couch.
“Your wristband,” Lok answers. “There’s a tracker in it. We just needed to find your frequency. It’s another way the Keepers can monitor us, especially if we’re out of the tower.”
“Lok’s father is the head of communications for Tarsus. He’s got a room down the hall filled with equipment,” Garrett says.
I don’t know if that comforts me, or heightens my concern. Especially in regards to privacy. There seems to be heavier monitoring of Tarsus citizens than those in the Outer Limits, which seems odd.
“Does Frey know you’re here?” Lok asks.
I shake my head. “He isn’t home. I don’t know where he is.”
Lok looks at Garrett, gets up, and then disappears down the hall.
Garrett makes sure that Lok is out of earshot before speaking. “Don’t let Lok or anyone else know that you can pick up the other players’ weapons. They’ll make you a target. The Keepers and Matrons will ensure you die on the battle floor or while you sleep. You’re a threat to them. All of them. I’m not sure why the modifications were done to you, but you can bet it was not by someone who has your best interests in mind. Or even your survival.”
Lok returns a few minutes later, a concerned look on his face. “I can’t locate him.”
“What?” I ask before Garrett can.
“I have his frequency, but he’s not showing up anywhere in Tarsus.”
“That’s not possible,” Garrett says.
“I know. It doesn’t make any sense,” Lok says.
Silence falls between us. I look around the room and notice that the display isn’t on. Lok follows my gaze, a laugh forming in his throat.
“I bet Frey has those music videos playing all the time, doesn’t he?” Lok asks.
“Unfortunately. I don’t see the need to watch such stupid behavior, or listen to that kind of noise.”
“Those videos didn’t used to be that outrageous. It wasn’t until about a year or so ago the media outlet changed them. They’re aiming more for the younger kids now, but some people our age have caught on to the budding trend.”
Garrett gets up and goes to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with some hot tea and small sandwiches. He hands me a cup, but when I begin to sip it, anticipating the warm cinnamon flavor, I’m met with a smoky tang instead.
“What kind of tea is this?” I ask Garrett.
“Tarsus Delight,” he replies. “It takes some getting used to, but it’s good.”
“I wonder what kind of tea Frey has been serving me,” I say without thinking.
They both stop mid-drink. Their cups hovering just below their lips. Each with an uneasy look upon their faces.
“What?” I ask, putting my cup down into my lap.
Garrett is the first to respond. “Does it taste like cinnamon?”
“Yes, why?”
“Don’t drink that stuff again,” Lok says, almost shouting. “It contains a mind and body altering drug. Leader Fallon outlawed it a few years ago, but not all supplies were confiscated. If he gives it to you again, dump it. Do something that will prevent you from drinking it.”
I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. My head begins to pound and all I want to do is curl up in a ball and hide from the world. Garrett scoots closer to me, pulling my head onto his shoulder. Lok takes the cup from my lap and replaces it with a blanket. I pull my feet up onto the couch, sitting on them, and wrap myself further into the blanket. Garrett hands me a sandwich, which I take and slowly eat.
“Lok, do you know where the Archive is?” I ask, as I start to feel a little better.
“Yes, why?”
“Is it easy to get into?”
“Why would you want to go there? I mean, it’s open to the public, but it doesn’t contain any information on anyone from the Outer Limits.”
“Okay, but can you show me how to get there?”
“Max, what’s this about?” Garrett asks.
“I’m looking for someone,” is all I say.
“Well, that’s cryptic,” Lok responds. He stands and signals for me to follow him. “Come on, I can program the map into your wristban
d.”
We go down the hall and enter the bedroom on the right. Lok has me sit on a stool next to an elaborate array of electronic equipment, tools, and computers. He pulls up a complete schematic of Tarsus, the Dead Zone, and the Outer Limits. He moves the files over to another screen that has the data from my wristband listed. The device on my wrist begins to glow blue as the images download. It only takes a few minutes for the information to transfer.
Lok takes my arm, touches the screen on the bracelet, and scrolls through the items till he locates the maps. Each one is nicely labeled. He taps the one for Tarsus and an image projects from the screen, levitating a few inches above my arm. I’m able to swing the image around, zoom in and out, and tap my finger to a structure at which time it displays the description of the building, entrance locations, and the active population of those inside.
“This is awesome,” I say to Lok. “Why did you put all three on here?”
He smiles. “You never know when it may come in handy.”
I smile back then deactivate the map just as the doorbell rings. Lok turns to another bank of monitors to see who’s at the door. It’s Frey.
Shit.
Lok tells me to take deep breaths, then shouts down to Garrett, telling him to take his time answering the door.
“Just remember what we told you. You can always come here if you need to.” He gives me a hug after I stand and escorts me to the door.
Garrett opens it when I’m next to him. Frey at first has an expression of complete hatred and anger, but it softens a bit when he sees me. No one invites him inside, and Frey doesn’t step past the welcome mat under his feet.
“I was wondering where you disappeared to,” he says, trying to sound concerned.
“I went for a walk and got lost. These two found me. We’ve just been having lunch,” I lie. I’m not surprised it comes quickly to me. I’ve been telling them for most of my life.
“Well, come on, let’s get back to my house,” he says, then steps aside so I can exit.
I thank Lok and Garrett, then follow Frey down the path to the main road. He takes my hand, pulls me against his side, and begins kissing my neck while we walk. I don’t want him to think anything has changed between us, so I play along.
Both his parents are gone when we enter the house, however Brink is sitting on the couch in the common room. His face is slightly swollen and badly cut above the eyes. I stiffen and stop. I’m surprised Frey let him in the house since he almost killed Brink last night. Troy walks in from the kitchen, munching on some food. Frey places his hand against my lower back, gently pushing me forward. I take a seat in a chair under the bay window while Frey and Troy join Brink on the couch.
“I told you she was at his house,” Troy says almost with a laugh.
“Shut up,” Frey snaps. His cheeks flush red with anger and he balls his hands into fists.
“What are they doing here?” I ask Frey, my tone a bit rough.
“We need Troy if we’re to get into the Archive,” Frey responds.
“Why would we go there?” I ask.
“My mother suggested it. She says there’s something she wants me to look up, but to make sure I bring you with me.”
“The Archive is open to the public, so why would we need them?” I say, anger resonating in my voice.
“The public isn’t allowed in the section we’re going to,” Troy says, with a big grin.
An uneasiness settles over me. I do want to go, but under my terms, not theirs. What could possibly be so restricted that we need Brink and Troy to come with? I do have the map, so if I need to escape out of the Archive I can.
“When do we leave?” I ask them. My anger replaced with confidence.
“Now,” Troy replies.
Eleven
A carriage is waiting for us when Frey opens the door. Brink gets into the front with the driver while I’m sandwiched between Frey and Troy. The doors slide shut and we’re whisked away down the path and head towards the city itself. It takes almost an hour to get to the Archive. The building is a tall, thin, metal and glass structure with a massive plaza encircling it, making it look like it’s on an island. We’re dropped off on the south end of the plaza. There aren’t many people out in this part of the city. Frey comments that they’re all inside the surrounding structures working.
He takes my hand as the group of us cross the slate-covered area and onto the main floor of the Archive. I look up and can see the high point of the building, the tip that juts out from the roof. Walkways crisscross from one level to another, almost to the top floor, which is at least several hundred feet high. I grow dizzy the longer I stare. I refocus my eyes onto the front desk of the lobby where a man in orange stands talking to Troy. The man hands Troy something, they shake hands, and part.
“It’s going to be a few minutes before we can go up. Let’s head over to the café across the plaza,” Troy says as he returns to us.
I recall what Lok said about Frey spiking my tea with the cinnamon, so I wonder if it’ll still happen even if we’re out in public. We exit and head over to a small one story building with an open patio. Frey and I take a table while Troy and Brink get our drinks. Frey pulls my chair next to his, places his arm around my shoulders, and begins nuzzling my neck. I try not to show how uncomfortable I am with the affection now that I know how he got me to sleep with him. His hands pull my face towards his, our mouths touch, and I actually feel myself melting. Heat rises between us and I pull him closer.
This can’t be right. Why am I feeling this way? Do I actually like Frey? I’m not fighting this, and in fact am enjoying it.
We release each other just as Troy and Brink return. They hand us each a paper cup filled with a light brown liquid. I take a small sip, checking for the cinnamon, and silently sigh when I don’t taste any. The only flavor that jumps out at me is jasmine. We chat about what we might expect when we return to Thrace Tower. Troy thinks the Keepers will place more of us in battles, so instead of two contestants there will be at least four. Frey laughs at that suggestion. His opinion is that the points will be raised, especially if you kill someone.
Brink and I don’t join in the conversation. He’s too focused on me, anger clearly visible in his eyes. I glance around the plaza, looking at the various people dressed in outrageous clothes walking by. I thought we dressed oddly for the selection floor, but these people make our outfits look positively tame.
An alarm goes off on Troy’s bracelet. We finish our teas and go back to the Archive. We follow Troy towards the center of the building then over to a bank of elevators along the side wall. We step into the one in the middle, Troy punches in a code on the keypad, which causes the door to close, and we rocket skyward. We’re moving so fast I feel like I’m being thrusted into the floor. Less than a minute later, we slowly come to a gentle stop. The walkway surrounding the top floor is covered in blue carpeting and lined with waist high steel rails. None of the walkways crisscross to a lower level like those in the rest of the building. I don’t dare look down since I’ll only make myself sick like I did looking up. We’re the only ones on this floor, which makes me uneasy.
Troy leads us towards the front of the building, which has sectional seating with two monitors against the far wall. Frey guides me to a chair in the middle of the group and tells me to sit down. I do what he says without protesting. He tells me to lean back so the footrest will extend out from the chair, which it does. He tells me to relax and take deep breaths. I follow everything he tells me to do, which concerns me.
What was in that tea that is making me obey his every command? Fuck! What are they going to do to me?
I want to panic, but my body won’t let me. Frey kisses me hard on the lips, backs up, and presses a button on the end table across from me. Blue lights shoot down from the ceiling encircling me, placing me in an electronic cage.
“What the hell is this?” I protest, trying to move. My body is stuck to the chair like it was to the mattress last night.
“Doubtful,” I say, my teeth clenched in anger.
Out of the corner of my eye I catch Brink smiling. He seems to be enjoying my discomfort. He probably thinks I deserve this for being with Frey and not him.
Wait till we’re back in The Litarian Battles, then they won’t be laughing.
The screen on the right comes to life with my memories, but no sound. It displays my visit with Lok and Garrett, my nightmare, and my lovemaking with Frey. Troy pats Frey on the back, congratulating him on his conquest, but Brink is seething. His face is red, his hands balled up into fists. He’s going to try and make Frey and I pay for our supposed betrayal of him. If it’s not today, then it’ll happen when we return to Thrace Tower. I have to be on my guard.
I hold my breath, waiting to see if it’ll display what happened the night the Aedox came for me, but it doesn’t. I become younger and younger with each passing minute. The screen on the left turns on several minutes later displaying its own set of pictures, but none I recognize.
“What’s that?” I ask any of them.
Frey answers. “It’s checking your memories against anything in the Archive’s files, such as faces and locations.”
“Why? Why would you want to do that?” I ask, my voice rising.
“To find out who you are,” Troy says.
What? I know who I am. Just Max Sutton. I’m an orphan from the Outer Limits. I’m nobody special.
Several pictures appear on the monitor to the left as the one on the right turns off, but the blue beams around me don’t retract. The images are of a man with a thick jaw, piercing blue eyes, and short raven-black hair. Another is a woman with long raven-black hair, high cheekbones, and thick eyelashes. The final one is of a very young child who resembles the woman quite a bit. I recognize the child as me, but how and why is it in the Archive’s files? Troy steps forward and taps on the man’s face. The other two pictures slide to the left as his enlarges. The name “Liam Thomas” appears underneath the image and a menu flashes next to it, showing various files. Troy selects one of the files and a news story begins to play.