by Erin Grey
“I know it’s been tough coming off the drugs,” I ventured.
“I want to go back on,” he said simply.
I bit my lip. What was the right response to that?
“The drugs give him peace of mind and prevent him from harming others,” said Jasper.
“Yeah, but he’s a zombie when he’s on them,” countered Sandy.
“Maybe he’s happier like that,” suggested Gwendolyn uncertainly.
“It is his prerogative to choose which state he prefers,” said Jasper. “He does well to consider the impact of his powers on others.”
“But it’s not fixing anything,” insisted Sandy. “He’ll stay in that zombie state forever. What kind of life is that?”
>BIOS ACTIVE_
>Brianus_drugs STATUS: Unavailable
“We can’t get you the drugs right now,” I said, choosing the least emotional route. “Do you think you could get some relief if we exercised your energy? Maybe we could start small—”
“You know nothing about my energy.”
“That’s true, but maybe Aidon—”
Brianus jumped up from the table, knocking over his chair in the process.
“You can’t fix me!” he shouted. “Trying will only get you—and probably everyone else here—hurt.”
I held up my hands, hoping to calm him. “I know it scares you and you just want to protect us, and that’s really great—”
Brianus smashed his fist on the table, upsetting the porridge bowl and sending its contents flying. “I don’t want to be this way! I want to forget!”
I leaned towards him, trying to use a soothing tone. “It’s okay, it’s okay. We’re here for you.”
“No! I’m done!”
I thought about how he punched himself in the stomach until he threw up. How he hated being around people because he couldn’t control his throat clearing or twitching or blurting out words. And I knew how it felt to be that tired, too tired to try anymore, too tired to fight.
That’s when someone has to fight for you.
“Are you angry, Brianus?” I asked.
He looked at me like I was insane.
I asked again, “Are you angry?”
“Yes,” he choked.
“What was that? Did you say something?”
“I said, “Yes, I’m angry!””
“Good. Now show me.” I walked around to his side of the table, grabbed his hand, and pulled him over to the lift.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Somewhere we can both get angry.” The cave. We could make as much noise as we liked there, and it wouldn’t matter.
We didn’t speak as I dragged him through the jungle, then down tumbled rocks to the cave entrance. Inside, I let go of him and stepped away so there was plenty of space between us.
“Tell me why you’re angry,” I said.
Brianus’ face scrunched in puzzlement. His hand twitched. “I … don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” I said. “I’m angry because I wasn’t born normal.”
I focused my energy and sent a spikey creeper up one of the walls. “I’m angry because my world doesn’t know how to deal with that.” A big thorny bush sprung up between us. “I’m angry because no one could fix me or help me and make these horrible emotions go away.” Hundreds of stinging nettles sprouted up next to me. “I’m angry at everyone who treated me as less, who took advantage of me, who always put themselves first at my expense.” A cactus ascended all the way to the roof of the cave.
“Now tell me,” I said, breathing hard from the exertion, “why you’re angry.”
His hand twitched at his side, and he glared at it. “This,” he said. “This makes me angry.”
“Show me,” I shouted.
“I can’t, I’ll hurt you—”
“Show me!” I screamed and sent another cactus rising up in front of his face. He threw out his hand and obliterated it in a burst of light. I immediately grew another one. With both hands, he exploded it.
“I’m angry!” I yelled and made a spinney of thorn trees. Brianus smashed them to smithereens.
“I’m angry!” he shouted, destroying the field of nettles at my side.
“RWAAR!” growled Emmy.
And so we went on: me creating the meanest, most vicious plants I possibly could, Brianus annihilating them within seconds. And all the while we screamed and yelled and shouted.
When I finally plopped onto the ground and lay back, I was laughing hysterically. So was Brianus. The cave looked like the inside of a blender after a smoothie-making marathon. We were covered in mashed leaves and sap and greenish-purple juice.
“That was fun,” I panted.
“Uh-huh,” agreed Brianus.
“Again, again!” squealed Emmy.
The giggles died out, and we lay there, exhausted, admiring our handiwork and basking in the calm after the storm.
“Jane?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
40
The bit where we storm the castle
I didn’t explain to the others why Brianus and I looked like we’d been inside an herbivore’s stomach. I quickly grabbed us some towels, and we took turns bathing in the river.
Back at the house, Aidon had news. “I spoke to Charis,” he said. “She’s worked out how we can get you into the building and down to the portal. Ric will overload the drones’ sensors, so we’ll have a clear path from the service tunnel to the main building. You’ll be in uniform, and Charis will remotely override all doors in your path so you can get to the portal. Ric will be on the ground to deactivate the living wall and divert the drones while Charis takes out the surveillance and alarms through the mainframe. Quirinus and I will cover both of you.”
“And the transmitter thing?” I asked. “So I can record everything while I’m in there?”
“Ric has it figured out. But Jane—” Aidon dipped his chin so that he could meet my eyes over his spectacles. “—are you absolutely sure you want to do this? Our priority is to get you home. If you’re not comfortable or—”
“I’m sure,” I said. “Absolutely sure.”
“What about me?” asked Ju.
“We need you at the base,” said Aidon.
“What? That’s not fair! I never get to come.”
“Someone has to hold the fort,” said Aidon gently. “If anything happens to us, we need you to keep things running there.”
“But Charis will be at the base.” Ju folded her arms, not contributing to the image of a grown woman she wanted to project.
“She can’t run things alone,” said Quirinus, putting an arm around Ju. “You’ll need to help her be strong, help her rally the troops and come rescue us.” He grinned. “Protect her with your knives.”
“Humph.”
“Right,” said Aidon, thumping the table like a judge with a gavel. “Get some rest. We leave in the morning.”
* * *
And so our trek began: a couple of hours by boat, a day across land. Charis met us and took Ju and Brianus with her, back to the base which had fortunately not been discovered by the Regulators. It was hard to say goodbye to them. Mitch and Gwendolyn worried about Brianus’ recovery. He insisted that—despite our progress in the cave—he needed meds to maintain control. Charis said that they had seen success with drugs milder than those used by the Regulators and promised to help Brianus experiment until he found something that would suit him. So we left them, and I put my energy into the journey ahead.
We came to a village—smaller than Ginniker—where Aidon hired a vehicle similar to a mini-bus. It took four hours to the next village. He left the vehicle there and got some llama-horses for us so we could avoid the main roads and thoroughfares. We journeyed through forests of tall thin trees and plains of purple grass higher than my head, across freezing blue desert and hot swampland, sleeping under makeshift shelters to avoid freezing in the dew.
Riding
all day left me aching and stiff at night, making it hard to sleep. After the first night tossing and turning, Aidon suggested a walk while Quirinus cooked supper over the fire.
“But I’m tired,” I moaned.
“It will help you sleep,” he promised. “You need to stretch out those muscles.”
We’d made camp at the edge of a wood, so Aidon took me walking along the treeline. The sun hung low over the horizon, but dusk had already set into the thick space beneath the forest canopy. Chilly drafts floated out of the trees and cut through the warm air that rose from the ground recently touched by the sun.
“I’ve been wanting to ask,” said Aidon. “But there hasn’t been time and I didn’t want to talk in front of the others.” He opened and closed his mouth, grappling for words. “When you get back, what are you going to do?”
I knew what I would do, but I didn’t want to think about it. So much had happened, and I wasn’t the same person who’d stood on that bridge, preparing to jump.
But things on Earth hadn’t changed.
“I have to get my family out of the country,” I said finally.
“I’m not sending you back just so you can kill yourself,” said Aidon abruptly.
“I have no other option.”
“What if you did? What if there was another way to get the money?”
“There is no other way.”
Aidon flipped the ever-present gemstone into the air, catching it without looking. It glittered in the sun before he picked it out of the air. “You said these were worth a lot of money back on Earth?”
“Yup,” I said, watching his careless juggling as we ambled along.
“Enough to get you and your family a new start?”
I froze. “You’d give me your diamond?”
“Why does that surprise you?” His mouth tilted up towards his furrowed brow. “What haven’t I been willing to do for you?”
I swallowed. “They’re not easy to sell, but even if I got half the value, it would be enough.”
He tossed it to me, and I caught it despite my shaking hands. “Thank you.” It was hard to hold my voice steady with tears stinging my eyes and tightening my oesophagus.
“Doesn’t change things,” said Mitch. “Still sick. No hope.”
A tear slipped down my cheek, and I quickly dashed it away. “I’ll use this to get them out. But I already made my decision. There’s no way I can carry on the way I am. Sooner or later it has to end.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he bit out. “You’re not the same. You’ve accessed your energy now. It made you happy when you did.”
“And when I’m back on Earth? No one has energies there. At least, they don’t know they do, don’t use them. Mine may disappear. Even if it doesn’t, how could I possibly use it without ending up as part of some government experiment or in a loony bin?” I shook my head and folded my arms against the growing chill. “It was good while it lasted, but it doesn’t change who I am.”
“Who’s that?” His voice held a barely-checked challenge.
“Broken,” I said. “Useless. A burden.”
“Who told you that?” he growled. “Who made you think those things?”
Mitch suddenly felt tired. Heavy. “We’ve been over this,” I whispered.
“We have,” said Aidon. “And I thought I made it pretty clear that people don’t give up on those they love because they get sick or make mistakes.”
“No, they don’t,” I said. “And somehow that’s worse. Because their hope doesn’t die—they truly believe that one day you’ll get better. You’ll go back to normal. And I can’t go back. My normal was a farce. I don’t want to live that way anymore. But I can’t live like this either.” I breathed out, centering myself and forcing a smile. “You don’t need to worry,” I said. “It will be better for everyone this way.”
“No.” He folded his arms. “If you’re going to give up, then I’m not letting you anywhere near that portal.”
“You can’t do that!” I shouted. “You promised!”
“I won’t let you die,” he yelled. “Even if I never see you again, you’re my link, and I’d be a murderer if I let you go, knowing you plan to take your life at the first opportunity.”
“You don’t get to decide that.” I clenched my jaw, my fists, my torso. “I’m the one who has to live this life, not you. I’m the one who has to suffer day after day. You don’t get to force me to carry on that way. That’s just cruel.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this, Jane.” He clasped my shoulders. “I’ve seen how you are when you use your energy. You have this drive, this glow of satisfaction.”
“What difference does it make?” I asked, frustrated that he wouldn’t leave me alone, let me be. “It’s temporary, like all the other cures I’ve tried. It always ends the same way. I will never be right.”
“What makes you think people only want the fake, perfect Jane? That she’s the only one with value?” He squeezed my shoulders. “What about the real you, the one who’s survived for this long despite everything? You, who’s crossed worlds to get where you are now?”
“And where is that exactly?”
“Right here,” he tapped the ground with his foot to emphasize each word. “A strong, unbeatable woman with untold power at her fingertips. You think that happens every day?”
He gripped my chin, and I flinched, but he held firm.
“You may have lost a lot: your health, your security. You couldn’t control those things; life happens. But look at everything you’ve gained. Loss brings strength, strength you can share. You wouldn’t have found your power so quickly without it. But you also have to let people in. You can’t survive alone. And needing help doesn’t make you weak or a burden. It makes you human.”
He let go and stepped back. “You remember that, Jane. You’re strong and you have great worth, even if you fail a thousand times over.”
I wanted to throw myself on the ground and sob. “You don’t understand,” I choked. “I’m so tired of trying. I can’t do it anymore.”
“Promise me you’ll try for one more day.”
“What?”
“The next time you want to give up and think there’s no other way—give it one more day.”
I swallowed. “One more day?”
“Just one more day.”
“I think … I suppose I could do that.”
“Wonderful.” A wan smile ghosted over his face. “And one more day after that.”
“Hey!” I exclaimed. “You’re trying to trick me.”
“It will work,” he insisted. “Don’t think about forever. Just think about one more day. You can face anything for one more day.”
I sighed. “You win. I’m too tired to argue anymore.”
“So you promise, then?”
“Ok, fine. I promise.”
He hugged me, tucking my head under his chin. “I know you can do it.”
“Can’t,” said Mitch.
“Can,” said Gwendolyn.
“Candy,” said Emmy.
* * *
Then we were there. The Headquarters.
We could only see the building through telescopic lenses—that’s how far away we camped. We couldn’t risk a drone picking up on our presence before we were ready.
Aidon walked us through the plan again and again, until he was certain we knew exactly what to do.
Ric would disable the outer perimeter fence for ten seconds, just enough time for the four of us to slip into the service tunnel. Then we’d walk about 500 meters before reaching the inner perimeter, where the towers and living wall stood. Once we were past the two security gates, Ric would send his tiny remote-controlled craft to the side of the complex farthest from us and begin overloading the enemy drones’ sensors. Charis would notify us as soon as they had all moved to the far zone using TRAG’s own long-distance surveillance craft. This would give Ric the opportunity to install the scrambler he’d acquired to manually disable the living wall. Then we�
��d be in, and it was up to me to walk straight to the door (in my uniform, wig, and glasses) and enter as though I belonged there.
But I couldn’t let them walk into danger like that for me. I didn’t care how many times Aidon said he wanted to do it and the others agreed. It wasn’t right.
I asked Ric about everything, pretending interest as an ex-computer science geek. He loved having a captive audience; no one else wanted to hear the details. He even let me fly his little drone around our campsite. It was as tiny as a dragonfly—with the same level of agility—and I kept losing sight of it in the dark, until Ric taught me to rely on the tracking screen of the control module.
There was just one thing I wasn’t sure about. Would Charis help me if I tried to go it alone? I hoped I could force her hand by simply carrying out the rest of the plan by myself.
I’d never forgive myself if anyone got hurt because of me—Mitch wouldn’t be able to handle it. Gwendolyn and Emmy were scared, Jasper and BIOS declared it illogical, but Sandy agreed that I had to do this alone.
The group had planned to head out just before sunrise so that we’d arrive when the light was starting to come up: the worst light for the drones’ cameras.
Which meant I had to leave much earlier than that.
I waited until everyone was asleep. Quirinus’ snoring masked any sounds I made sneaking out. My hands shook as I lifted Ric’s equipment pack. I left the dagger Quirinus had given me—the pack was too heavy as it was.
I’m sorry, I mouthed to the sleeping faces and fled into the night.
When I was close to the perimeter fence, I pinged Charis using the communicator Ric had connected to my translator.
“Jane?” she responded after more time than I could afford, muffled sounds indicating shifting equipment as she got herself settled. “You’re frightfully early. Did something happen?”
“Yes,” I answered. “It’s just you and me, Charis. I’m at the fence, and I’m about to disable it.”
“Wait! What do you mean you’re at the fence? Where is Aidon? And Quirinus and Ric?”
“The fence is going off in 3…2…1”
“What in the name of Artemisia—”