“You’ve got black paint under your eyes. Hit the showers.”
Most of them froze, but a few exchanged looks before one spoke up. “But there was an attack on the dome. Aren’t we needed somewhere? Shouldn’t we be doing something more important?”
Lewis walked away and headed toward the showers. He could make that punk do push-ups until he puked for his insubordination but felt it best he got used to disappointment at this tender age instead.
Although it would be tough to conceal his own disappointment, he felt something needed to be said. They needed to understand what asking questions looked like in his reality. Lewis had asked a lot of questions when he first started—sometimes he still let them slip even though he knew better.
“The only reason our team was called in was because of our proximity to the attack, and, because it was a low risk mission to retrieve one civilian. Don’t let it go to your head.”
Lewis dumped his fatigues in the laundry bin and stepped into the shower stall. He neither rushed nor dawdled. His shower took precisely as long as it needed to; it served its purpose, just like him.
Once dressed, he turned back to his team and muttered an early dismissal for the day. Partly because of his desire to be alone, but partly because, despite their age, they performed adequately.
He tucked in behind his desk and retrieved his tablet to fill out his report. His team had listened to instructions, understood the common hand gestures without explanation, and kept their calm under pressure. He decided to forgo reporting the one recruit questioning his decision at the mission’s end. The kid was probably so stimulated from adrenaline and stress he couldn’t keep a clear head.
I should give him a break.
Lewis sat back in his seat and interlocked his fingers behind his head. His mind drifted to the scene outside the dome. So many scenarios mulled through his mind. Who were they? Where did they come from? How did they get out there? Why was Freya at that exact spot where they tried to breach the dome?
An alert chimed on his tablet, snapping him out of his thoughts. He expected it to be something trivial, such as a response to his submitted report, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. His eyes widened as he scanned the message multiple times to ensure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
A new temporary mission assignment. It was so simple; he wasn’t to take on a new identity, nor relocate. What caused the coloring to drain from his skin wasn’t even the nature of his assignment, but who sent the order: The Head of State.
The following day, he was to train a new Council member in firearms, potentially combat training depending on an assessment of their results.
The Head of State may not have seen his face, and he couldn’t be certain what he did today was connected or if this was all random happenstance, but he was assigned to train Freya. The same woman whose rebellious partner he put on a spacecraft. The same woman who somehow had such a strong connection to the Head of State, he personally came running to her side.
He gripped the cold, wooden desk, trying to still his trembling hands.
Looks like you get a second chance. Don’t mess it up this time.
Chapter 8
Lewis
Regardless of how many times he looked over the same sentence, his mind retained nothing. The words on his tablet blurred together in an incoherent mess. But he looked busy, and Lewis was learning to celebrate the small victories.
Freya may only be a gardener, but she seemed to have an unexpected renown in the State House. She made him nervous, but Chastity, that was who made his heart palpitate. She was the right hand to the Head of State. If he couldn’t win her over, then it wouldn’t matter what Freya thought of him.
Undoubtedly, she was being sent to observe and report on Freya’s progress and his capabilities at training a civilian; the results would define him.
Lewis fumbled his tablet when he heard a curt knock at the door. Before he could recover his nerves, Chastity waltzed through with Freya at her side.
He jumped to his feet. “Chastity, nice to see you. I take it this is the new recruit I am to train?”
“Yes. This is Freya.”
Freya seemed to silently assess him, making him wonder if he needed to do more to build a rapport. As the State House workers seemed to be abnormally close, he decided anything he could do to make Freya warm to him would be to his advantage.
“Oh, I don’t need an introduction to Freya. Everyone knows exactly who she is.”
At least, everyone heard there was a dome attack, although they didn’t care about the gardener calling Security.
Fundamentals of manipulation; flattery can be effective at gaining favor, especially with civilians.
“It’s a pleasure to properly meet the new hero that everyone’s talking about.”
If flattery wasn’t enough, he hoped by establishing a prior connection, especially one when she had been vulnerable would be effective.
He grasped her hand and shook it eagerly. She looked rather dumbfounded by the experience, then suddenly homed in on what he had said.
“Properly?”
He looked to Chastity to see if she knew of their previous connection, hoping she did. It would help him appear humble if Chastity informed Freya who had rescued her during the attack.
“He was part of the team that came for you. They were all wearing masks, but this is the man who carried you back to us.”
Any previous encounter he’s had with Chastity, he always took her for being cold. Now, she looked at him with almost warmth.
Good.
He looked back to Freya and could tell learning of their past connection made her uncomfortable.
Not good.
Feeling the need to distract Freya from her discomfort, he said, “I will lead you to the training room.”
Chastity seemed grateful to him, but if he couldn’t get Freya on his side, then, regardless of how much she learned, she would request someone else.
It seemed she was fine until he brought up the attack. Either she was traumatized from the event, or she would have preferred he remained masked. It was best he focused on his task, executing it with utmost skill.
Once he gathered the proper gear, he led Freya through a series of instructions on handling firearms. She was a quick study, that was until she realized she was expected to participate in target practice.
“I can’t use that,” she blurted.
Lewis bit the inside of his lip, repressing a grin. “Not yet, but you’ll learn. That’s why you’re here.”
In an authoritative gesture, Chastity drew her firearm from her ankle holster, displaying her normally concealed weapon. “Nonsense. If I can do it, so can you.”
Lewis turned away slightly, unable to control his smile. He had seen Chastity in the firing range before and knew she was skilled with firearms, yet this appeared to be news to Freya.
This pair of State House staff members had a different view of firearms than he did, and it was amusing to watch them. But he had to focus. He had to perform. It was time to urge Freya to step inside the firing range.
“I know you have been through something traumatic, and this can be hard to accept, but who knows, you might like it.”
Freya’s head jerked upwards in confusion. “What do you mean, I might like it?”
Lewis lost his battle of repressing his smile. “Well, we will just have to wait and see. Either you will like it and understand why I say that, or you won’t.”
He urged her to proceed. Remaining professional yet friendly was his goal. Things were moving along at a good pace, with only one social blunder where Lewis forgot to tell Freya his name. Names were only used if necessary in the military underground. Social norms felt foreign to him in this space.
Her nerves only seemed to intensify each time he encouraged her to step into the firing range, and so finally he led her in and demonstrated by firing off a shot at a target. The target ahead displayed his accuracy, a bullet hole in the center of the outlin
e’s forehead.
“But you seem so nice,” Freya said as she pulled off her ear covers. “Chastity, look. If that were an actual person, they’d be dead.”
Chastity rolled her eyes. “Yes, that’s the point, Freya.”
With a child-like excitement, Freya bounced as she inquired into Chastity’s aim. “Can you do that? Can you? Oh please, show me—do it!”
Chastity drew herself into the stern pose he expected from a State House administrator. “This is your lesson, not mine. Now apologize to Lewis, who, for your information, is quite nice. Try to focus.”
Freya grumbled. “Sorry, Lewis.”
He bit his bottom lip. “No offense taken.”
“So, how many people have you killed?” Freya blurted.
Lewis hesitated for only a fraction of a second before replying, “With a gun or with my hands?”
“Huh… I didn’t know that I would need to be more specific when I asked that question.”
Lewis laughed. The truth was, he hadn’t yet killed anyone. With Freya’s newfound excitement, he felt it couldn’t hurt their rapport to let her think he was the gruff stereotype he seemed.
He may excel at torture, but the State liked to segment who performed executions from those who interrogated. And even then, deaths were almost always drug-induced.
Some felt the State’s ways were cruel; Lewis disagreed. Even most convicted rebellion members died peacefully, just like everyone else. Firearms were just for show, intimidation, or an emergency, such as the attack on the dome.
Someday, he knew he would need to serve the State by taking a life, but he figured it would mean drugging people. He hoped he never had to shoot someone, but knew that if he did, just like those people who tried to break the dome, they would deserve it.
Eventually, between his gentle guidance and Chastity’s stern words, Freya finally pulled the trigger—with her eyes closed.
“I missed,” she sulked.
“Well, if you had hit the target with your eyes closed, you wouldn’t need me to train you, now would you?”
Freya smiled, which made Lewis almost sigh with relief. She was warming up to him. If he could keep this going, he might gain the recognition he was desperately seeking.
***
Perspiration streamed down his forehead. The salty rivers flowed into his green, form-fitting tank-top. Normally he didn’t enjoy running on a treadmill, yet lately, it seemed the only remedy for feeling so pent up.
Since the colony ship had left, he felt as though he would be stuck training new recruits until his looming early retirement. After an unexpected attack on the dome, he wasn’t sure what the future held, or his place in it.
Within hours of Freya’s firearm training, a message came through his tablet informing him he was soon to receive a new assignment.
The timing was disheartening. For a brief time, he had given into hope that training Freya might lead to elevation. But if he left on a new mission now, his chance of gaining the attention of the Head of State diminished. Between being called in for the dome attack—even though he was on the wrong side—and Freya’s training, he longed for more than life trapped in the military underground.
His tablet chimed. Lewis immediately slowed the machine and his foot-falls to a safe jumping off speed. Normally, he would finish his run, but not when he was awaiting a new assignment. As he scanned over the message, his vision blurred in and out of focus.
Lewis ran to the showers. It was tough to decide if tardiness or appearing at such an important meeting drenched in perspiration was worse.
The crisp water shattered on his skin as he stepped into the cold shower. It was imperative he immediately lower his body temperature. This meeting wasn’t with a commanding officer, but with the Head of State himself. No details given, just a room location in the military underground with the request to meet immediately.
His hands furiously scrubbed soap across his chilled skin. He stood and let the freezing water wash over him, hoping he could survive this meeting without breaking a sweat.
As he took off toward the meeting location, a numbness spread through his limbs. This meeting could be the start of the life he had so desperately longed for, but it could also be his undoing. If the Head of State deemed his behavior with Freya inappropriate somehow, this would be the end of his career, and possibly his life.
Hardly a thought crossed his mind during the walk as he focused to keep himself void of any feelings or emotions. He had to focus. Emotion didn’t belong in battle.
When he arrived at the specified location. He gave a curt knock at the door and stood to the side, awaiting a response.
“Come in,” a male voice shouted from inside the room.
Lewis hesitated momentarily and then pressed inside. He saw the Head of State sitting at a table with a woman. His skin blanched as recognition set in. He knew this was the same psychologist who conducted his training for his previous colonization assignment.
His back went rigid as he saluted. “Mr. Statesman, sir.”
“Lewis,” the Head of State peered up at him. “Take a seat.”
He could hardly breathe as he slid the open seat outward. There were only three seats surrounding the table in this confined room.
“I would like to introduce you to my colleague, Dr. Rhetta. She is a psychologist for the State.”
Lewis felt sick. He would rather be waterboarded than interrogated by a State psychologist. Especially her.
What did I do wrong?
He nodded and forced a tense smile. “Yes. I’m familiar with Dr. Rhetta as she conducted the training for the colonization project.”
Her beady black eyes drilled into him as she pursed her lips. “Yes, and I believe you were the one who questioned my authority to conduct that training.”
His cheeks flushed. The mistake had been made, and there was no course correction. This was something he had to endure. He messed up. Possibly twice. And these were the consequences he had to face.
“Lewis,” the Head of State leaned forward in his seat, “you conducted a training with my gardener, Freya, in firearms.”
Lewis’ throat dry. He most certainly had not been as professional as he should have been. He nodded as he felt unable to speak without choking on his own words.
The Head of State looked down at his tablet. “And I heard from Chastity that Freya seemed to laugh and joke with you at times.”
Lewis nodded once again and held his breath.
“That was what Chastity put in her report, formally, yet when I inquired about the joking and laughing, Chastity said that her behavior was borderline flirtatious.”
Shit.
The Head of State shot a look at Dr. Rhetta, which was well timed, as Lewis couldn’t repress a slight dry heave. He reached for the glass of water at the center of the table and took a few slow sips.
“This is very curious behavior—not to just myself but to Dr. Rhetta as well.”
Dr. Rhetta nodded. “I had to see Chastity’s report myself to believe it.”
Lewis licked his dry lips and kept his gaze cast down at the table. His mind was spinning. If he was here to be reprimanded, then why would they drag it out?
The Head of State leaned back in his seat. “Freya is a special character, Lewis. Flirtatious isn’t a word I would use to describe her. I am fascinated that she has taken a bit of a shining to you.” His eyes darted over to Dr. Rhetta before he proceeded. “Of course, we have a way to use this to the State’s advantage. But I wanted to meet you first. I wanted to see who you are, this man that could capture Freya’s attention.”
“Lewis,” Dr. Rhetta began. “As Victor said, we feel we may use this to our advantage. I don’t know if you have made the connection, but James informed us you handled her former partner, Colin. You ensured he got onto the spacecraft, compliantly.”
Lewis nodded and mustered up the strength. “Yes, I had made the connection.”
The Head of State leaned forward. “You can never
tell Freya you took part in that mission.”
Lewis blinked rapidly. “Sir, of course not. I would never disclose the details of a previous mission to anyone who didn’t have the proper authority.”
“Yes, Lewis.” Dr. Rhetta interjected. “We know you understand confidentiality, but we are putting you under unusual circumstances. You must pretend you know nothing of her, her past, her previous partner. All you know is she is a State House gardener and a member of the Council.”
Lewis nodded, still unsure if speaking was wise.
“Lewis,” the Head of State continued. “Freya has had a rough time. She is fragile. We wouldn’t normally do such a thing—especially not with everything she’s been through with that former partner of hers—but we have an opportunity which is too good to pass up. We hope that you can help us with Freya. We hope you can help her mend from her broken heart and be a friend, a confidant, a guide.”
Conspired: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The State Series Book 6) Page 5