by Krista McGee
“We cannot allow him to do that.”
“I know.” I sit up and turn so I can see his face. For a moment I forget what I was going to say. He is so handsome. I want to stop time, to stare at him for hours. But I cannot. “We have to make sure the formula fails. I am hoping Alex will find a way to prevent Loudin from getting it, or at least change some of the ingredients so it doesn’t work.”
Berk’s face darkens at the mention of Alex’s name. There is still much about that relationship we have not discussed.
“If Alex”—Berk says the name as if it tastes bad on his tongue—“cannot prevent Loudin, then what?”
If Loudin arrives here with the formula, how long will it take for him to recreate it? If that is all he is focused on, then it could be completed in days. But if it’s not all he is focused on . . . “We need to create a distraction.”
“A distraction?”
“Something needs to go wrong.” I stand from the couch and pace. “Something big. Something that is more important to Loudin than the formula.”
“What’s more important than that?”
I stop and turn to Berk. “The State.”
He leans forward. “Of course. This is everything he has worked toward. When anything is wrong with the State, he gets frantic.”
“Like when the oxygen levels were too low?” He sent us aboveground precisely because he wanted Kristie found and brought back here in order to fix that.
“And the power outages.” Berk stands. “He had me work for weeks figuring that out.”
“And did you?”
“I worked with Dr. Williams to reconfigure the solar panels so they would convert the energy faster.”
“Could you undo that?” Plunging the State into darkness would certainly stop Loudin.
“No.” Berk runs both hands through his brown hair. “He had us establish backup power sources to prevent that from happening again.”
“Hey.” Dallas’s loud, accented voice comes muffled through the door. “What are you two doing in there?”
Berk opens the door and Dallas enters, followed by Rhen.
“Thalli comes back and you don’t even tell us?” Dallas leans against the door. “We were worried too, you know.”
“I’m sorry.” Berk’s hands fall to his side. “I’m glad you found us though. We could use your help.”
We explain the situation to Dallas and Rhen. Dallas starts pacing as soon as I begin talking. He is all over the room, constantly moving. Rhen, however, is completely still, sitting on a chair, her eyes looking at an invisible spot on the wall. I know her mind is processing all of this, sorting it, trying to find a logical solution, a plan. Subverting the plans of the State’s founder goes against all she was taught, growing up here in Pod C. But being intelligent, logical, finding solutions to problems—that is who she is.
“You said James was able to make cameras show what is not actually happening, right?” Rhen looks from the wall to me.
“Yes.”
“What if we used that technology to confuse him?”
“Keep going.” Dallas is beside Rhen, his love for her evident in the way he looks at her.
“We have time while he is away, correct?”
“A day—two at most,” Berk says.
“What if we recorded ourselves—entering the Scientists’ quarters, going through the halls and the laboratories, causing problems?”
I smile as I realize Rhen’s plan. “And we play those recordings when he returns.”
Dallas lets out a loud laugh. “Loudin goes running down to wherever he thinks we are, ready to yell and scream at us, and he finds nothing but an empty room.”
“We only have to have two recordings, three at most.” Rhen shrugs her thin shoulders. “Just enough for him to know something is wrong.”
“It is fitting.” I imagine the scene. “He has spent his life manipulating others’ minds. He deserves to have his mind manipulated.”
Berk stops us with a hand in the air. “But then what? He’ll find out and he’ll punish us—maybe even kill one of us. And all we have done is postponed him.”
“What’s your idea?” Dallas’s tone reveals a protectiveness toward Rhen.
Berk bristles but continues. “I don’t have one.”
“But you shut Rhen down?” Dallas places his hands on his hips. “Nice.”
“I understand what Berk is saying.” Rhen’s hand is on Dallas’s shoulder. “But this will allow us to have time. If we distract Loudin with the video, we will know where he is going. And we know he will bring his Monitors with him, especially if he thinks we are destroying something valuable. When he goes to stop us, we can be in place to confiscate the formula and destroy what he has begun.”
“That might be the hottest thing I have ever heard.” Dallas wraps a thick arm around Rhen’s tiny frame.
“I agree—it’s a good short-term solution,” Berk says. “But even if we can confiscate the formula—and if he hasn’t already made a copy of it—he’ll still be Loudin. He’ll still be working to find a way to control the people he brings in. If it’s not with the drugs, he’ll just use what he knows: cerebral manipulation. But he’ll still accomplish what he wants to accomplish.”
I step to the center of the room. “There’s only one way to stop him.”
Three sets of eyes are on me, but they all know what I am about to say.
“We have to kill Loudin.”
CHAPTER 29
We cannot do it. We cannot commit premeditated murder. No matter how justifiable, no matter how despicable Loudin is, none of us can be the one to end his life.
The four of us have been in the isolation chamber for hours. We left briefly to eat so the Culinary Specialist would leave. The Monitors are all gone—except for the two stationed outside the pod to make sure we don’t try to escape. We could have returned to the living area, but the isolation chamber feels safer, more protected.
We have run through myriad ideas. Many of them excellent, all of them ending with Loudin dying and the residents of the State—the world—being free. But we cannot execute those plans because we cannot execute Dr. Loudin.
“I keep telling you guys,” Dallas says. “I’ll do it. I’ll kill the man with my bare hands.”
Rhen places her hands on her slim hips, her blond ponytail bobbing with every word. “No, you can’t.”
“He killed my grandmother, Rhen,” Dallas roars.
We have watched him go through so many emotions in the past few hours. From calm and loving to angry and hurt and back again. These emotions are natural, we all recognize that. But we also see what he does not: he is not thinking clearly.
“I won’t allow you to add guilt to your grief.”
“You won’t allow me?” Dallas takes a step closer to Rhen, his large frame dwarfing hers. “You’re my mother now?”
“We both know what happens when decisions are made based on emotions,” I say. “We can’t act on our anger. We can’t give Loudin that kind of power over us.”
Dallas releases a breath—so like Kristie in that moment—and he sits on the sleeping platform, head in his hands. “Fine.”
“Let’s go back to Rhen’s idea—fake some videos to throw Loudin off track and we can nab the formula.” I look to the others.
“But then we antagonize Loudin.” Berk shifts in the chair. “He could choose to kill one of us as punishment.”
“As opposed to just killing us for some other reason?” Dallas raises his head. “The guy is like a lit cannon—he can blow anytime, for any reason. We can’t worry about making him mad. It’s too late for that. We just have to stop him.”
Rhen leaves the couch and sits beside Dallas. “We have been up too long. Our brains do not function well when we are tired. Let’s get some sleep and talk again in the morning.”
“But we still do not have a plan.” I lean my head against the back of the couch. “And we don’t have much time. Loudin will be back, and then what? He just makes the formula, uses it
on us first, and we forget everything, become just another one of his projects, his slaves? We cannot allow that to happen.”
“Rhen is right.” Berk stands. “We should sleep. And pray. John told me that God gives wisdom to those who ask for it.”
“We sure need it.” Dallas scratches his face. “It’d be nice if he sent down one of those lightning bolts to just wipe Loudin off the planet too though.”
“I think you are confusing the Designer with one of the mythical gods of the ancient world.” Rhen walks to the door. “I have not read anything in the Scriptures that says God throws lightning bolts.”
“I was joking, babe.” Dallas laughs, his mood changing once again. “But I sure do love hearing you talk like that.”
Dallas and Rhen discuss the relevance of joking during a serious conversation as they walk into the hallway. I am happy for them, happy they found each other, happy they can help each other through this.
I stand from the couch and blink. I am exhausted in every way—my body, my mind, my spirit. There is so much to process: Kristie’s death, James’s destruction of his laboratory, Loudin taking Alex to retrieve the formula for a drug that will allow him to control any non-State citizen.
“How are you?” Berk is beside me, his voice quiet.
I shake my head, too full of emotion to speak what is in my mind, in my heart.
Berk pulls me to him and holds me. He doesn’t say anything. Though Kristie is not his mother, I know he is grieving for her, missing her. He spent more time with her than I did, in New Hope, while I was away in Athens. And he has also spent more time with Loudin—my father—than I have. He knows just how intelligent Loudin is, how calculating, how driven.
I tighten my grip around Berk’s waist and try, for a moment, to forget everything else that is happening. My muscles relax, though my heart quickens—not out of fear, but because I am near Berk. Every nerve seems to tingle, my whole body feels warmer, more alive when I am with him.
I love Berk. I love him with everything in me, and I want nothing more than to be with him forever, to have his arms around me every day of my life. I want what John had with Amy, the committed love he spoke of, the wedding and the life. Children. I want everything I was always taught was “primitive.” I lift my head from his chest and look into Berk’s eyes, eyes that have seen me since birth, that have watched me play and hide my differences, eyes that have always loved me for who I am.
Yes, Berk loves me. I see it. I feel it. He lowers his head, and I feel as if I am about to float away, that I am somewhere above, watching what is happening. His face is inches from mine, and I close the gap, my lips touching his in what is the most glorious feeling I have ever experienced. My arms are around his neck, and I rise on my toes so I can deepen this kiss, say without words what is in my heart, what has always been in my heart.
I discover that music can be made with no instruments at all.
CHAPTER 30
I cannot sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see Berk, replay our kiss in my mind. I feel like little Nicole—I want to run and jump and scream and laugh. I want to find Berk and kiss him some more, kiss him forever. I want to run away from here, forget all of this, and just be with Berk.
I feel guilty for feeling so much joy when so much is wrong in the world, when Kristie is dead and Loudin is plotting terrible things and all of our lives are in danger. But I cannot stop this joy, and I don’t really feel guilty. I feel guilty because I don’t feel guilty and I think I should. I laugh at that and quickly cover my mouth. I don’t want to wake Rhen.
I just want to pause time, like a video can be paused on a learning pad, so I can remain back there in the isolation chamber, in Berk’s arms. John told me that God delights in giving good gifts to his children. Berk is a good gift. A very good gift. And I feel God’s pleasure in receiving that gift, in knowing that he is mine.
Loudin and Kristie may have provided the ingredients from which I was created, but the Designer created me. He did a beautiful job creating Berk. I know, in the deepest part of me, that Berk and I were made to be together. I think I have always known that, from the time we were children when we would play and fight. I knew it when, before Berk was taken to the Scientists’ quarters when we were twelve, he carved our initials in the floor. I knew when I saw him again, outside this pod, right before all of this started.
Love for the Designer fills me. He has seemed distant, but this reminds me that he is here . . . he is working and planning, even when I don’t see it. I can trust that he gives good gifts, that he is good. As John said over and over, “God is love.” He has given us emotion, he has given us love, and he has shown us how to demonstrate that love to others.
What of Loudin? Could he be changed by love too? Is he beyond the reach of this emotion? I sit up in the sleeping platform and breathe deeply. Maybe we are wrong in our approach, wrong in thinking he must be destroyed. Maybe the reason none of us can kill him is because that is not the answer. Love is the answer.
I get up, slip into shoes, and walk into the dark living area. Soft lights shine through the windows, artificial lights that mimic stars. But those lights cannot compare to the real stars. I have seen them, bright spots of white on a black sky, millions of them, so far away, yet still visible, still shining. Loudin is like those artificial stars—he is trying to mimic the Designer. But he cannot. Like those lights, he will one day burn out, be replaced. He wants to be God, but he is not God. And he is most definitely not love.
But he has loved, and he has been hurt by love. Could he be healed by it?
Could I love Loudin?
The thought turns my stomach, makes dissonant chords strike in my mind. Loudin has done so much to hurt me and the people I care about. He is a murderer, an egotistical tyrant.
But what was it Kristie said as she was dying? “Remember who you once were. You can be that man again.” He wasn’t always like this. Kristie said as much in New Hope. Kristie loved him once.
Could I love him?
I look out the window at the lights that mimic the stars. I never knew how false those were until I saw what was real. Loudin has spent so much time creating this false world that he has forgotten what is real. He has come to believe what is false.
Perhaps I can remind him of what he has forgotten.
CHAPTER 31
That’s your plan?” Dallas is shouting, but no one stops him. They are all looking at me like I have developed an ancient disease. “You’re going to be nice to Loudin? Why don’t we just walk into his lab with knives and kill ourselves in front of him?”
“James told me that Loudin is proud of me.” Proud of his DNA in me, but still . . . “Somewhere beneath that pride and that self-centeredness is love. If I can get past all of that, maybe I can get him to see truth. Maybe he can change.”
“Ever heard the term psychopath, Thalli?” Dallas’s voice is slightly lower, but it rings with conviction. “A person who feels nothing and thinks only about himself, who will do anything necessary to get what he wants. That is Loudin. You look inside him and all you’ll see is evil.”
“But he is human.” Words from the Designer’s book fill my heart. “And humans are made in God’s image. So Loudin is made in God’s image.”
“That may be true.” Berk’s green eyes almost undo me. I can see the battle raging in them—he doesn’t want to hurt me, but he cannot agree with me. “But there have been plenty of men throughout history—and in the Designer’s book—who choose to behave in ways that are not loving.”
“What about Paul?” Rhen speaks up. “I’ve been reading about him. He was a terrible person. He hated the early Christians, and he was responsible for persecuting them. But Jesus spoke to him, and Paul was changed so radically that he traveled all over just to tell people about the Savior.”
I want to hug Rhen, but I do not. I look at Dallas and Berk, trying to interpret the looks on their faces, the thoughts in their heads.
“It’s a nice thought.” Dallas cro
sses his arms. “I’ll give you that. Do I think God can change Loudin? Sure I do. He has changed all of us. It isn’t that I doubt God. It’s Loudin I wonder about.”
“I’m tired of trying to think up ways to trick him.” I sigh. “I’m tired of being chased and pretending and plotting. It doesn’t feel right. It never has. But being honest feels right. And loving feels right. That’s how John lived. I never heard him say anything bad about The Ten, and he could have. He loved his son, even though his son had basically abandoned him. He cared for those who could give him nothing in return. We have been trying to think like Loudin all this time, to stay ahead of him. But we should have been trying to act like John.”
“I don’t like it.” Dallas shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Thalli. I know you mean well and all, but you are giving Loudin more credit than he deserves. We know how he feels about love. We saw what he did to the one woman he cared about. There’s no changing a man like that.” He walks out of the room.
Rhen and Berk are silent. I want one of them to speak up, to agree with me. I want Berk to take me in his arms and kiss me and tell me he knows how powerful love is, and that love will break through Loudin’s tough exterior. But Berk doesn’t move.
So I do. I leave the room, the pod. I go outside and tell the Monitor I need to visit the performance pod. He communicates to another Monitor, then trails behind me. Ordered to guard me, no doubt, to ensure I don’t run off again, don’t hurt anyone else.
I start out walking, but then I break into a run. Not because I am trying to escape the Monitor, but because I am trying to escape my thoughts, trying to outrun my emotions. I feel like I just opened myself up back there, in front of my friends, in front of Berk. I was exposed, heart and soul, and they just looked on, spectators at a performance.
The doors to the performance pod open. The building smells clean—obviously a Sanitation Specialist has been here recently. The instruments shine from their slots. I should feel joy at seeing all of these instruments—friends I have known my whole life, who have listened to my secrets and my longings. But they don’t have the same appeal they used to. So much of me has changed. I no longer feel like the Musician of Pod C. That is not my identity anymore—but what is?