by Erin Grey
“Zhian took you?”
I nodded.
“So, it’s your mother and who else?”
“My father.”
“That’s all?”
My fisted hands tightened. I couldn’t see the other face. Mitch couldn’t bear it.
I shook my head. “My brother and sister can take care of themselves. And they have their own families to worry about.”
“How much time do they have?” he asked.
“When I left, the legislation was due to be discussed in two months’ time. I have no doubt it will be passed. Already, the president has confiscated farms and businesses under various pretences.”
“And you can get the money as soon as you return?”
“If I do my part, the money will be released within thirty days. That would have left them a month to pack up and get on a plane.”
“They’d let them out of the country?”
“Of course,” I exclaimed. “They want us ‘foreigners’ gone or dead.”
Aidon frowned. “Earlier you said ‘them’, not ‘us’. You weren’t going to leave with them?”
I didn’t reply.
His eyes narrowed along with his frown. “Zhian said you wanted to kill yourself. How, exactly, were you going to get that money?”
“That’s enough questions! I’ve told you everything you need to know. But you haven’t told me anything” —I lifted my hand, showing him the mark on my finger— “about this.”
The Listener vanished and was replaced by the Man of Stone. “I don’t have answers for you,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“But you know something about what this is, don’t you?” I persisted.
He smashed the rock down on the desk, making me jump.
“If you know something, I deserve to hear it,” I ground out.
The stone visage shattered, and Aidon slumped like all the energy had gone out of him.
I held up my hand again. “I didn’t ask for this. I’m as upset as you.”
Aidon groaned. “Fine,” he said, sounding defeated. “Yes, I know something about it.”
I waited, but he was in no hurry to share the something. He picked up the pen from the desk and tapped the wood. Then he pulled his chair out and straddled it, arms crossing over the backrest. His fingers toyed with his own new mark, the way one turns a ring around and around.
“Charis told you something about it,” he said.
I nodded. “She said we’re linked. And that it only happens with twins.” I paused as BIOS displayed various strings of text. “And that we need someone older and wiser to explain it. Did she mean you?”
He chuckled. “I don’t think so. For one thing” —he leaned closer, balancing the chair on its back legs— “she’s older than me.” He rocked back so the chair was on all fours again. “Don’t tell her I told you. Or imply that she’s anything other than in the first flush of youth.”
That made me smile—to think that perfect, graceful Charis had an Achilles heel: her age.
He cleared his throat, putting on his serious face. “When she says we’re linked—it’s true. That is, when it happens to twins—and I’ve only ever heard of it happening to twins—they’re born connected. Through their energies and a shared mark, usually on their wrists or necks.” He looked at his hand. “I’ve never heard of a mark on the finger.”
“You mean they have the same energies?”
He shook his head. “No, quite the opposite actually. Their energies are different, but complementary. They balance each other out. And intensify when combined.”
“Except you won’t even tell me what your power is,” I said.
A smile pushed up one side of his mouth. “And you won’t show me yours.”
I huffed. “That’s hardly my fault.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said, waving the subject away with his hand. “I will never use my power.”
“But won’t that make you sick?”
He shook his head. “It’s safer for everyone if I never use it. I have … ways of preventing any serious damage to myself.” He took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes.
“What ways?”
“It’s really none of your business,” he said, exasperation showing in his white-knuckled grip on the glasses.
“We’re linked.” I wasn’t going to let this go. “It is my business.”
His mouth hardened. “Trust me, it’s better this way.”
I drummed a finger on the seat of the couch. “So, you’re just going to ignore the link? You want me to believe that’s a good idea? After everything you’ve told me about how people suffer when they don’t express their energy?”
He looked away and said nothing.
“We’re not even from the same planet.” I dropped my head into my hands. “I don’t understand any of this.”
“I’m as baffled as you are.”
I sighed and flopped back into the couch. “I suppose you did warn me that you don’t have answers.”
His eyes jumped to mine at that, jaw firmly clenched. “I’ll find answers. I will. Just give me a little time.”
“That’s the one thing I don’t have.” My leg jiggled with nervous energy. “I don’t care if I never find out what the link means for us, so long as I get home before that legislation is passed. Before it’s too late to …” My throat closed up again as sadness and cortisol flooded my system. Stupid Mitch.
Aidon got up and put a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Jane. Maybe you should get some rest.”
“I couldn’t sleep now,” I said, shaking my head and stretching my shoulders. “Maybe I’ll go sit with the others for a while.”
The corner of his mouth quirked.
>System status: Oxytocin spike detected_
“You don’t seem all that comfortable around large groups,” Aidon observed.
“I’m not really a people person—” I began, then stopped myself.
“People are the worst,” said Sandy.
“Oh, but Aidon isn’t!” chirped Gwendolyn.
“Yeah, he’s pretty cute with his glasses and his little rock friend,” acknowledged Sandy.
“I like Charis too,” said Gwendolyn. “And Quirinus.”
“Jane, you are equipped to conduct yourself appropriately in social situations,” said Jasper. “For the most part, you acquit yourself well in conversation.”
Mitch sighed. “People make me tired,” he said.
“But we do like people,” said Gwendolyn. “And it’s so lovely when they like you back.”
I shook myself back to reality. Aidon leaned against the desk, arms folded but body relaxed, patiently watching and waiting for me to re-activate. I laughed nervously. “That’s not true, me saying I’m not a people person. I like people. I like talking and listening and getting to know people, old acquaintances or new. I just find it very tiring. Like …” I grasped for a decent analogy. “Like I have a battery I need to use when I interact, but eventually it runs out and I need to be alone. To recharge it.”
Aidon’s lip quirked again.
“You’re laughing at me.” I stared at my hands, half embarrassed I’d shared all of that, half angry he didn’t take it seriously.
“Yes,” he said, surprising me. “I’m laughing at you. You’re very cute.”
“Max used to say that,” said Gwendolyn. “I miss Max.”
“Don’t,” moaned Mitch.
Aidon leaned over me, his mouth pulled down as though it could hold back his amusement. “But I get it. The people thing. I’m the same.”
I had to smile at that. It was nice to know someone understood.
“Well,” he said, straightening, “I think I’ll do some research, see if I can find anything that could help us get you home. You heading back to the dining room?”
“May as well,” I said.
“Send Ric to me if you see him, won’t you?”
“Sure.” I moved to the door and paused at the threshold. “
Thanks. For trying to help and … listening and stuff.”
He made a sound between a grunt and a sniff and turned towards his desk.
* * *
Back in the kitchen, the party had wound down. Quirinus pottered around, packing away leftovers and arranging cooking utensils. Ric, Brianus, and Charis were absent. Ju was curled up in an oversized armchair in the corner, engrossed in her tablet. The Professor had turned himself into a ball of fluff on a cushion at Ju’s feet.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“Ric’s in his workshop, I think,” said Quirinus. “Charis went home.”
“She doesn’t stay here?”
“No, unlike the rest of us, she has a husband and children to go home to.”
“A husband?” I couldn’t help my mouth hanging open. “I thought she and Aidon …”
Quirinus laughed, the kind of jolly, booming laugh you’d expect from someone of his height and girth. “No! She’s well and truly married.”
“But she doesn’t … he’s not part of the group?”
“Sadly not,” Quirinus said. “The dreaded politics prevent it. He’s a senator in the Arus House of Matius, so he can’t afford to be associated with the likes of us. Rebellion doesn’t sit well with his constituents.” He wrung out a rag and began polishing the pale stone countertops. “He doesn’t approve of her actions, but as long as she’s covert—which she has been—he allows it.” Quirinus paused and gazed at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Or maybe it’s better to say he pretends not to see it.”
“Isn’t it dangerous, the stuff you guys get up to?” I asked, picturing our frantic escape from the clinic, the weapons the Activists carried, the Regulators’ ship bearing down on us on the Suspended Sea. “I mean, if she has kids—”
Quirinus spun around to face me, eyes grim. “Charis would die for her family. Her children are the reason she does it. And their future children. She’s building a better world for them. It’s why her husband doesn’t stop her.”
“Oh,” was my weak response.
Quirinus went back to wiping the counter. “It’s a good cover, him being an official,” he said. “As long as nothing can be traced back to him, her children will be safe if she’s caught.”
“And that is why one does not judge a book by its cover,” drawled Jasper with a nauseating air of self-righteousness.
Mitch drooped. “I feel bad now,” he said. I waited anxiously for the deluge of guilt and misery.
You’re bad, said the voice from the depths. Judgemental. A hypocrite.
I shivered and shoved it back in its hole, slamming the lid shut and pretending it was never there.
A distraction was in order. I looked over at Ju. Her eyes were firmly glued to her slab, but I could almost see her ears prick in my direction. I walked over to her and perched on the edge of the dining table bench.
“What are you reading?”
“Nothing,” she replied, in the style of all teenagers who believe expressions of ignorance make them look cool. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair, and I started at the sight of the marks on her forearm: long rows of scratches up and down the inside.
I knew that kind of mark. I’d seen them in the psychiatric wards I’d spent time in. I looked back at her face, still determinedly pointed away from mine. Thin strands of shell-pink hair were pulled into a loose pony tail. Her angled cheekbones and almond-shaped eyelids could have passed for signs of Mongolian ancestry on Earth, if not for the pearlized salmon sheen that covered every visible inch of her skin. She was a prickly little thing, but perhaps I could do something to help her.
I tried to broach the subject with as much tact as I could muster. “Do you sometimes feel sad?”
She looked up, suspicion wrinkling her brow. “Excuse me?”
“It’s normal, you know, to sometimes feel like the pain is so bad you can’t feel anymore and you have to find a way to make yourself feel again.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Those cuts on your arm. I’ve seen that sort of thing before. Don’t be embarrassed. A lot of people do that when the pain gets too much.”
She looked bemusedly at the marks on her arm. “Why should I be embarrassed about the marks on my arm?”
>An unexpected error has occurred_
>Abort operation_
“The robot speaks the truth,” giggled Sandy. “Abort! Abort!”
“They’re cuts, aren’t they?” I faltered. “Sometimes … people feel really bad … so they cut themselves as a distraction or to make sure they can still feel—”
“What? No!” She looked disgusted and fingered the stripes on her arm. “Those are from that monstrous cat. He can’t stand me. Scratches me every time I try to pet him.” She glared at the soundly sleeping, fluffy black mound at her feet. “Bastard.”
“Oh, okay,” I stuttered, face and neck heating up. “Well, that’s a relief then.”
Ju’s mouth twisted, and she rolled her eyes, then went right back to her tablet.
“Don’t roll your eyes at guests, Fabiola; it’s rude,” said Quirinus over his shoulder.
“How could you even see—”
“Just don’t,” said Quirinus.
Ric strolled in. My conscience bit me as I remembered my commission from Aidon.
“Oh, Ric,” I said quickly. “Aidon wants to—”
“The three of you need to come with me right now,” he interrupted. “We have a problem.”
10 Only one’s own fingers. No funny stuff.
11 A more appropriate term would be ‘rocklet’.
27
The bit where we run away
Ric led us to the sitting room where Aidon stood before a large screen embedded in the wall, calmly swiping through images, some of them maps. I felt his tension under the composure.
“They found us?” asked Quirinus.
“Not quite,” said Aidon. “But they’re close. If we don’t move now, we could lose our safe house.”
“How?” said Quirinus.
Ric answered. “They must have some sort of energy tracker. Whatever happened in the arena today, they locked onto it. The place is crawling with them. They’re taking samples, running scans with devices I’ve never seen before.”
“Can we mask the trail to prevent them tracing us back here?”
“That’s what we’re working on,” said Aidon. “Ric has discharged scramblers in as great a radius as possible without tipping them off. The shields here are running at 100%. But you know I like to play it safe. Quirinus, take Ju and get yourselves to the Nereides base. Ric will follow you there once we’re all out and he’s activated the fail-safes.”
“What about Charis?” asked Quirinus.
“Ric sent a message to her,” said Aidon. “She always hides her trail between here and her home, so I’m not worried about that. I’ve instructed her to go into lockdown though, in case they latch onto any trace of her at the arena.” He met my eyes. “You’re coming with me.”
“We’re not going to the same base as Quirinus and Ric?” I asked.
“Not yet. Whatever drew the Regulators to the arena, it’s most likely to lead them to you or me. We’re getting as far away from the rest of the team as we can. And we’re going to make sure the Regulators follow us.”
My breath stopped. “We’re bait.”
“I knew we couldn’t trust him,” said Sandy.
“Quirinus, what are you still doing here?” barked Aidon. “I want you two gone. Now!”
Quirinus tipped his head and touched his forehead in what looked like a salute, then clasped Ju by the hand and left.
“You’re going to turn me in,” I said quietly.
“I wouldn’t turn a dead rodent in to those monsters, let alone a human being.” Aidon grabbed my shoulder and turned me towards the opposite door. “We’ll be safe, but we have to make sure everyone else is too.”
“I knew we could trust him!” squealed Gwendolyn happily.
“Wait,”
I said. “What about Brianus?”
Aidon stopped abruptly. “Hermus’ orbs, he must still be asleep. Ric!” Ric had already disappeared down the corridor and didn’t respond to Aidon’s call. “He has too much to do anyway. Brianus’ll have to come with us.”
Brianus was out cold in his room, completely undisturbed by all the noise we’d made. Aidon had to shake him before he so much as raised an eyelid.
“Come on, Brianus,” I urged. “We have to go! The Regulators are after us.” I thought for a second. “Again. The Regulators are after us again.”
“Just leave me,” said Brianus, closing his eyes.
“No,” I said firmly. “I didn’t leave you in the clinic or in the forest or on the pirate ship, and I’m not leaving you now. You’ve grown on me. Like a fungus.”
“We don’t have time for this,” said Aidon. He began pulling Brianus from the bed.
“Don’t force him,” said Gwendolyn worriedly. “You’ll upset him.”
“He’s tired,” said Mitch. “It’s hard.”
“It is for his own good,” said Jasper.
“Wait,” I said. “Let me handle this.” I put my hands on Brianus’ shoulders—he sat on the edge of the bed, fingers curled into the mattress barely holding him upright, head dropped in defeat. “You owe me,” I said. “I saved your life, remember? Now, I need you to come with me.”