by Erin Grey
“Only fools make assumptions based on fear. Tell me why you want to die.”
“I’m broken, ok?” I exploded. “I’ve never felt the happiness, the satisfaction, people talk about. I just can’t. At first I convinced myself I could push through it, that it didn’t matter as long as I was doing something worthwhile, that one day, when I’d gotten everything right, I’d finally feel that contentment.
“When my body burned out and all my work went to hell, I had to face the truth: that nothing will ever make me truly happy. My mind is broken and no amount of drugs or therapy or meditation techniques will fix it.
“Not that I didn’t give those things a good try. I took my meds, did all the homework the psychologist gave me, read all the books, put up with all the debilitating side effects. Nothing worked.
“And I can’t do it anymore! I just make everyone around me miserable. They get hopeful that this time it’s going to work. And sometimes it does, for a few weeks, maybe months. But then I end up right back where I started, or more likely, ten steps backwards, and every time it happens, every time I’m back in that deep dark hole, it’s a hundred times harder to climb out. And I have to see their disappointed faces, know that I’ve failed them again.
“I don’t want to climb out anymore. There’s nothing good at the top. It’s time to write off my losses and give everyone their freedom.”
Aidon scowled. “You think freedom is what they really want? That freedom means being without you?”
I grimaced. “They don’t know what’s good for them.”
“Why do you get to decide?” he growled. “Don’t they get a choice whether they want to worry about you or not?”
“So that I can carry on suffering and watching them suffer? See the guilt and the disappointment and the exhaustion on their faces because, once again, I’ve failed to meet their expectations? Because I should think about their feelings? Because I should be strong for them? Because I should keep trying to get better, even though no one has the foggiest idea how to fix me?”
I ripped my hands from his and clenched them into fists. It wasn’t enough. I looked around for something to throw and caught sight of a chunk of rock lying on the floor.
“Should!” I yelled, hurling the rock at an outcrop of cave wall. “I’m so sick of should!”
“Yes!” shouted Sandy. “It’s about time you let it all out!”
The crash of the rock shattering into dust sent pleasant vibrations through my bones. I grabbed another from the floor and reached for the words I’d heard so many times that hurt so much.
“You should stop crying because no one likes a drama queen!”
Crash. Emmy sobbed.
“You should try harder to fit in! Be more like her! Like him!”
The crash rippled into the depths of my tissues and fuelled an uncontrollable urge.
“You should become a computer programmer because artists don’t make any money!”
I was running out of rocks. I reached for a water bottle, the metal cool in my hand.
“You should apologize to that bitch who walked all over you and smeared your reputation because it’s the right thing to do and you should be the bigger person!”
A piece tumbled from the end of the outcrop.
“You should be grateful for the little things! You should be happy!”
Crash. Bang. Clatter.
“You should go to the new therapist, try the umpteenth set of drugs, just deal with the insomnia and the anxiety attacks and the constant nausea so everything can go back to normal! You should do it for us!”
My eyes fell on the scattered bones of some creature’s long-abandoned meal, and I gathered them into my hand, ready to throw like darts.
“Should, should, SHOULD!” I punctuated each word with the launch of a bone, then flung the lot at the crumbling outcrop.
Aidon watched me panting, my shoulders slumped from the expulsion of so much energy.
“Are you quite done?” he asked.
I looked around and spotted the small smooth pebbles at my feet. “No.” I pitched them at the wall, one after the other in quick succession. Then I lifted one big rock with both hands and hefted it at the desperately clinging remainder of the formation. It finally gave in and collapsed, leaving a jagged cavity in the cave wall.
I heaved out the last big breath and bit of vitriol. “Now I’m done,” I panted.
“Look down,” said Aidon.
At my feet were hundreds of growing things: grass, flowers, saplings.
“Still think you need fixing?” asked Aidon softly.
35
The bit where I’m tempted to stay
I collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by the sheer number of growing things, the crazy thought that I could possibly have done this.
“I really did all that?”
“You did.” He fingered the soft furry leaves of a low-growing flower. “This is not a common energy. It takes a lot of power to create life from nothing. But that’s what you’ve done. Created plant life.”
“Fun!” said Emmy, clapping her hands.
“How do you know I created those things from nothing?” I asked. “Maybe there were already seeds in the ground and I just helped them grow.”
“Down here? In an underground canyon? Possible, but I doubt it. Besides, the energies of links complement each other. My power is death. It makes sense that yours would be life.”
My head spun. “You mean I can bring life to anything?”
“I don’t know yet. You certainly have a connection to plants and growing things, though. I felt it back in the tunnel too.”
I looked at my handiwork. “Some of them are green.”
“Further evidence you’re creating them from nothing. Those must be based on things you’ve seen on your home planet.” He stepped back and folded his arms. “Now, try it again.”
“I don’t know … how do I … where do I even start?”
“You know the first step: relax. Breathe. Then reach for the same feeling you had when you were so inefficiently destroying that rock formation.”
I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but I closed my eyes and reached into the ground. This time I could feel … the beginnings of things. I sent a spark into the soil and felt a seed materialize. I concentrated energy into it and it sprouted and grew, pushing up through the dirt. When I opened my eyes, a small purple shoot poked its leaves into the light.
“Well done,” said Aidon.
“I did it,” I breathed.
“All by yourself.”
“Well, you did get me started.”
“I just pushed,” he laughed. “But you flapped your wings and kept airborne without any help from me.”
“Do you think I can control what I grow?” I gestured to the variety of leaves and creepers and flowers spread haphazardly around us. “This all seems pretty random.”
“With practice, I’m certain you could.”
“I want to keep practising then.”
We carried on, and the time flew by. I was totally absorbed in my newly-discovered ability. The cave was covered with growth, floor to ceiling, before Aidon said we should head back.
I could hardly keep myself from skipping as we made our way home. I felt … light. Invigorated. The voices weren’t arguing for once.
“I’m so happy!” said Gwendolyn. “This is what we’re meant to do!”
“It is not difficult for you to be this way,” added Jasper. “You are operating at your most efficient and energized.”
>BIOS ACTIVE_
>Loading System Status Update_
>Dopamine: Increase 95%
>Serotonin: Increase 195%
>Norepinephrine: Increase 120%
>Endorphin: Increase 330%
>Oxytocin: Increase 207%
“Even Mitch has got a little spring in his step, don’t you Mitch?” said Gwendolyn.
“I don’t feel so tired,” agreed Mitch. “I want to DO … Things.”
<
br /> “Well, Emmy is bouncing off the walls, so maybe we could all just calm down a little,” muttered Sandy irritably.
“Could it be that you were meant to live on Eorthe?” mulled Jasper. “That your life here is far more meaningful than it ever could have been on Earth? That being there was an error and this is your true purpose?”
“What if you didn’t go back?” said Gwendolyn. “What if you carried on here, learning more about your powers and staying with Aidon and Quirinus and all our friends? It could be wonderful!” I pictured her twirling in a happy circle, glittery skirts flaring out with the momentum.
The Deep Dark stirred and twisted.
“There would be pain,” Mitch whispered. “They … the family … would have pain.”
Images I’d seen on the news—beaten bodies and looted homes—flashed through my head. Except these bodies were ones I knew.
“Ah, they’ll get over it,” said Sandy. “They would have had to get used to life without her anyway if the suicide had been successful. They’ll find a way to survive. And why do we always have to worry about them? Why can’t we just be happy for once?”
“What if it doesn’t last?” insisted Mitch. “Every time we thought there was happy, it stopped, and then sad came, a worse sad.”
“I don’t think this is like those other times,” said Sandy. “This feels … deeper.”
“Iss ok?” asked Emmy. “We stay? Mommy not cross?”
“Oh,” said Gwendolyn, coming down quickly from her happy cloud. “Mommy would be cross. They would all be so sad. How could … how could we ever really forgive ourselves for letting them go through that when we could stop it?”
“Death would negate any feelings of remorse,” said Jasper. “But those would be unavoidable if we stayed. All memory of Earth must be ignored if happiness is to be found here.”
“Can’t forget,” said Mitch.
“Wanna stay,” said Emmy.
36
The bit where things get a little out of control
I slept like a dead person. Even though my head buzzed and my heart leapt and the voices chattered away incessantly, once my head hit the pillow, I slipped instantly into the deepest, most refreshing sleep of my life. Waking was an instant high, total euphoria. All I wanted to do was try out my new powers.
Everyone else was fast asleep in their hammocks, so I let myself down to ground level using the lift and headed straight for the cave, not caring at all about the biting bugs or being alone in the dark. Inside, I reached into the earth with my energy, drawing up life and sprouts and shoots that blossomed into bushes and rambling creepers and tall iris-like plants and thorny brambles and rose-shaped blooms. I focused on how each type of plant felt so I could try to repeat specific shapes and types. For a short while, I could create a variety of yellow flowers. Then all the leaves sprung out thin and spiny. Next came striplings in assorted textures of bark.
But I could never produce exactly the same thing twice in a row. I needed practise.
When frustration and hunger got the better of me and I returned to the tree house, it was well past noon, or whatever they called noon on this planet. The others had eaten long before, but Quirinus put out the leftovers he’d kindly saved for me, then sat across from me while I ate.
“Busy morning?” he asked with a grin. He reached over to pluck a leaf from my hair.
I blushed. “I was practising. It’s hard to regulate what comes out when I use my energy.”
“You’ll get there.” He smiled. “We all went through something like this. It takes a while to learn control. But it’s well worth the effort.”
“Therefore, Brianus could learn control if he exerted sufficient effort,” said Jasper.
“Is Brianus up?” I asked Quirinus.
“He went out for a walk after eating. I haven’t noticed him come in.”
“We do not have much information about Quirinus,” said Jasper. “Now may be a good time to ascertain his position in this organisation.”
“You told me how Aidon ended up here,” I said, stirring the orange-fragrant porridge Quirinus had heated up for me. “But what about your story? How did you end up on the wrong side of the Regulators?”
“I don’t have a miserable, tragic tale to tell.” He shrugged. “I was an orphan—”
“I thought you said you don’t have a tragic tale?”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I was placed in a good home with other children like me. Losing one’s parents can delay the onset of one’s energy and the skills needed to tame it, so there is a lot more patience for those in such a situation. The Regulators don’t come scavenging for Abnormals until you come of age and leave.”
“What age is that?”
“Seventeen annums.”
“That’s when you left?”
“Yes.”
“And did you have your energy under control yet?”
Quirinus frowned. “Not quite. It was there, and it was clear it had to do with blades, but I hadn’t quite mastered the finer aspects of the art. It could be dangerous for those in the immediate vicinity.”
He held out his arms, and for the first time, I saw the heavy scars hidden beneath the thick hair, pale and raised, but faded with time. Mitch sent an empathetic ache into my own arms.
“Those look like they were painful. Did you hurt others around you?”
“Fortunately not. As soon as the nature of my energy became clear, I was put under strict orders to only use it in protected conditions. My instructors spent much time teaching me how to manipulate it safely.”
“But you hadn’t learned everything by the time you left?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “And I couldn’t stay past the age of seventeen. There were too many others who needed my place. I left and made my own way.”
“And then the Regulators came after you?”
“It was a small town, and I was small fry. Of course, I knew the danger, so I maintained a low profile. I lasted a year on my own before they got me.”
“But why would they want you? You’d had some training. You were in control of your energy, weren’t you?”
“I did not join a House as is expected.”
“Why not?”
“The only House that would have taken me was Arus—gode of combat and defence. I did not want to use my energy for violence.”
I rolled my tongue over the silky-smooth porridge in my mouth. Bursts of vibrant orange caught my taste buds as I swallowed. “You wanted to work with food.”
He nodded. “So they came for me. Fortunately, I ended up in the same clinic as Aidon, and he got hold of me before the drugs could turn me into one of the walking dead.”
“He told me that part,” I said. “And how the two of you escaped.”
Quirinus tapped the table top with a chunky digit. “I owe him my life. When he decided to form TRAG and take an active stand against the Regulators, I couldn’t help but stay.” He nudged me. “See? Not so tragic after all.”
“Aidon’s a good man,” I said, pushing my porridge into a heart shape. “So are you.”
“And you’re a good woman, Jane,” said Quirinus. “I wish you would remember that.”
You’re not, said the Deep Dark. Your thoughts are wicked.
“Quirinus …” I stared at my spoon, alternately seeing gobs of porridge and my distorted reflection.
“Yes?”
“Do you think it’s possible to love two people at the same time?”
I kept my eyes fixed on my spoon, too scared to look up and see condemnation on Quirinus’ face.
It was some moments before he spoke. “I think that depends on how big your heart is,” he said.
Ju sauntered in and, seeing me, stopped with her arms folded. “Oh,” she sneered. “You’re back. I thought the alien had finally wandered off.”
“Oh yay,” said Sandy. “It’s Little Miss Sunshine.”
“Fabiola!” growled Quirinus. “What have I told you
about being unkind?”
“I just said she’s an alien, which is true,” Ju grumbled.
“Jane is here because she needs our help. You ought to understand how that feels.”
“Humph,” came the response.
“Remember what it was like when we found you?” he continued, anger turning the gold of his face into polished copper. “You wouldn’t talk or even look anyone in the eye. You refused to eat anything except carrot juice. You were skinny as a rake and on the point of dying from malnourishment. Besides being sickly yellow instead of the lovely soft pink you are now. We had to force feed you. If I hadn’t noticed your perfect aim when you threw spoons at us with your eyes closed, we might never have been able to save you.”
“Yeah, well, whatever.” She threw herself into an armchair and lifted her tablet to hide her face.
“Most impolite,” said Jasper.
“Ju, put that slab down immediately and apologize to Jane. She doesn’t deserve such scorn.”
Ju hunched down tighter, pretending not to hear. Quirinus wasn’t buying what she was selling. He stomped over to her and pushed his face in front of her tablet. “Fabiola Juliana Descartina. Do not disappoint me.”
His simple words had a surprisingly powerful effect. Ju’s eyes snapped up, and the shame in them was tangible. She pushed herself out of the chair and stomped over to me, then put out her hand.
“I’m sorry I was mean,” she said, glaring down at the floor, not meeting my eyes.
“Oh, poor thing,” said Gwendolyn. “She’s embarrassed.”
I took her hand and shook it. “Apology accepted.”
She pulled away quickly and trudged back to her chair.
“I’d really like to be friends,” I called after her.
“Fabiola,” warned Quirinus when she didn’t respond to me.
She huffed and glared at him over the brim of her tablet. “I don’t even know her! She’s only been around for like a day. She doesn’t know how TRAG works, and she’s already got us in trouble with the Regulators! How am I supposed to be friends with someone like that?”
“Ju—” began Quirinus, but I stopped him with a raised hand. Jasper had dealt with Sandy long enough to have an idea of what was going on in Ju’s head.