Middle Ground

by Katie Kacvinsky

  “Where am I?” I asked, my throat parched and scratchy.

  “We’re back in the basement,” Gabe said. “You’re safe in here, don’t worry.”

  I nodded slowly. More silence followed. Everyone was staring at me with nervous eyes. They were waiting for me to do something crazy.

  “Would you guys please stop looking at me like I just woke up from the dead?” I pleaded, even though that summed up how I felt. My fingers went to my forehead and I winced at my throbbing headache. I reached for a bottle of water sitting on a chair next to the bed and stacked a few pillows behind my back so I could sit up. Molly took a step forward to help me, but the movement caused me to panic and I held an arm out to block her.

  “Don’t come near me,” I warned her; it sounded more heated than I’d meant it to, but I was still scared. I took a drink of water and glanced at Justin. I could see so many questions on his face. I could see worry lines around his mouth. There were dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. I wanted to tell him everything would be fine. I wanted to tell him I wasn’t afraid. But I couldn’t lie to him. So I just looked away.

  “How much longer do we have?” Molly asked.

  “I need to get her back soon,” Gabe said. He looked unsettled. I wondered what would happen to Gabe if he got caught. I wondered why he was risking so much for me, for a stranger he hardly knew.

  Molly nodded. “Well, the good news is I can’t find any evidence of physical harm. No sign of needles, and your bloodwork is clean.” She told me she’d done a physical exam while I was asleep and had sedated me, taken a blood sample, and done a bioassay to test for chemicals. She sat down on a metal chair and pulled her blond hair back with concentration.

  “No offense, but what are you doing here?” I asked her.

  “I’m working on a PhD in neuroscience,” she said. “When Clare said what was going on, I volunteered to come down here. I’m a year away from taking my preliminary exams,” she added proudly.

  I remembered Clare told me this once, that Molly was some kind of child prodigy. “You must be loving me right now,” I said dryly. “I’m your dream research subject. And they are drugging me,” I informed her.

  “I can’t find any traces,” she said.

  I told her it was some kind of tablet. “They call it the Cure.”

  “What are your symptoms? Side effects?” she asked.

  It hurt to think. I didn’t want to think. “I can’t remember,” I mumbled. “I black out after every session.”

  “Gabe says you have nightmares?” Molly asked.

  I nodded. “But as soon as I wake up I completely forget them. Only feelings stay with me. Panic and fear and I’m scared of any human contact. But I can’t remember any specific details.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I’ll need to run some more tests when I can get to a lab.”

  “No. You’re not running any more tests because she’s coming with us tonight,” Clare insisted. I looked over at Gabe, and he slowly mouthed No way. I knew he was right. I couldn’t leave here tonight because I knew the reality. I wouldn’t be free.

  I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “We’re not leaving you in here,” she said, and looked at Justin. “Right?” she asked him. “We can’t—”

  “I’d be a fugitive again,” I interrupted Clare. “With a lifetime prison sentence hanging over my head.” And I’d be a risk to all of them, I thought, especially Gabe.

  Clare shook her head. “We’ll figure it out. You’re not staying in here. That’s not an option. You look like you’re being tortured.”

  I blinked sadly back at her. I didn’t want my life to be one lie after another. I got myself in here. Looking around the room, at my closest friends, I had my answer. I made my decision.

  “I’m staying,” I told Clare.

  “You want to stay here?” Pat asked.

  “I’m trying to look on the positive side,” I said, and imagined how proud those words would make Dr. Stevenson.

  All of them raised their eyebrows and stared at me. Like I was nuts. Maybe I was.

  “You see a positive side to this?” Pat inquired.

  “This could be our shot at bringing down DS,” I offered. I glanced at Justin, and his eyes narrowed. I knew he guessed what I was thinking.

  “You’ve got the publicity you want,” I said. “You just saw what happened to me. If you can prove what’s going on in these detention centers, that they’re torturing kids to keep them addicted to a digital life, do you know what kind of trouble that would start? It would finally show how corrupt this system is. People would have to admit it’s gone too far. They would have to be open to changing it.”

  Pat shook his head. “The media will just twist the facts. I’m sure they’ve already thought of it. They probably have the news story ready to broadcast if any of the truth leaks out.”

  “The media doesn’t know this is happening,” I argued. “No one knows. That’s why they’re getting away with it.”

  “I don’t think we should do anything until we know exactly what’s going on in here,” Molly said. “We don’t have enough evidence yet to prove anything.” She appeared to be the only person in the room on my side. I saw Nobel Prize in Medicine written all over her face.

  “Exactly,” I agreed. “Use me to find the evidence. Let me be the experiment.”

  Justin’s mouth was hard. I knew his mind was racing for any possible alternative. But he couldn’t question it. This plan was foolproof. Besides, I was exhausted with running away.

  “It might work,” Molly said.

  “It has to work,” I said. “I’m staying in here until we figure out a way to get everybody out.”

  “No, you’re not staying,” Clare argued. She took a step toward me and Gabe had to grab her arm and pull her back.

  “It makes sense,” I told her. “I can be your guinea pig. It’s like Molly said, we need to understand what’s going on before we can help anyone.”

  I waited for Justin to step in and agree, but he didn’t say anything. His eyes were focused on the ground in front of him.

  “We can’t do anything until we know what we’re up against,” I said.

  “I’m not letting you do this,” Clare said. “They’re torturing kids inside here. Emotionally, mentally, physically. It sounds like they’re turning you into a blue screen and then reprogramming you.” She glared at Justin. “Aren’t you going to say anything? I love her, and I know you love her too. Tell her not to do this.”

  I watched him and wondered if what Clare said was true. He didn’t admit it. He didn’t deny it either.

  He blew out a slow breath and looked at me. “This is your call,” he said.

  “You could tell her what you think she should do,” Pat said with an irritated frown. “You know she listens to you.”

  Justin kicked himself away from the wall. “I’m not going to tell you what to do,” he said to me. I nodded and his eyes focused on Pat’s. “And if you try to tell Madeline not to do something, it just encourages her to turn right around and do it. So fighting her isn’t going to help.” He looked back at me. “I think her mind’s made up.”

  I smiled because he was right. He didn’t smile back. He didn’t look the least bit happy with my decision.

  “I think it’s crazy,” Justin said. “I think it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets any better. But”—he paused—“I think you’re strong enough to get through it.”

  “You’re all insane,” Clare said, her voice breaking. “She’s our friend. You don’t encourage your friends to go on a suicide mission. Madeline, you don’t have to do this. You don’t need to prove anything.”

  “We’re wasting time arguing about it,” I said. I stood up and planted my feet firmly because if I didn’t hold my ground I was going to sink in. “I need you all to support me in this,” I told everyone. “If there’s anything you’ve taught me, it’s to stop talking and get up and d
o something. Look at a problem and see an opportunity. That’s what I want to do. For once in my life I want to help solve a problem, not be the cause of it. So, from this moment on, support me,” I said. “That’s all I ask. I can’t handle any doubt right now.”

  “What can we do to help?” Justin asked Gabe.

  Gabe shrugged and said meeting face-to-face would be good for me. “The DC forces isolation, so the more human interaction she gets, the better, even if it scares her. It might keep her mind strong. And then you can do the research you need to.”

  “He’s right,” Molly agreed. “Direct communication helps strengthen the amygdala and it might stimulate a positive cognitive unconscious.”

  Gabe wrinkled his eyebrows. “I have no idea what you just said, but sure.”

  “You think human contact helps?” Pat asked, and reminded us what happened in the tunnel.

  Gabe nodded. “In small doses. We just have to remember to give her distance. No touching, no hugging, no running up to her in dark tunnels,” he said, to Clare, specifically.

  Justin looked over at me thoughtfully. I could see he had a different theory, but he kept his distance. “I want all of us to meet here one night a week,” he said. “Molly can observe her and test for anything she can find. And one night a week, I meet with Maddie. Alone. Can you arrange for that?” he asked, and Gabe nodded.

  Justin took careful steps toward me. He reached for something in his back pocket and the gesture made me wince. I leaned away from him, but when I looked down I realized he was holding my journal.

  “I thought you might want this,” he told me.

  I looked down at the worn red leather. “How did you get it?” I asked, and Clare spoke up.

  “I convinced Joe to let me have it,” she said. “Let’s just say I had a few words with him after we realized he ratted you out.”

  “You can keep it down here,” Gabe said. “There’s nowhere to hide it in your room.”

  I took the journal, careful to avoid touching Justin’s hand, and rubbed my fingers over the soft cover. I flipped through some of the pages. I’d missed the feel of the thick real paper and its earthy smell. There was a pen stuck inside.

  “Thanks.”

  “Three days,” Justin told me. “I’ll see you then?”

  I nodded and he studied my face for a few more seconds.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised me. Then he turned and headed out the door without another word. The rest of the group slowly followed him. Clare frowned over her shoulder at me, and Pat had to nudge her out the door. I watched Justin leave and, despite how calm he was acting, I knew it was a front. I knew because when I’d taken the journal from him, his hand had been shaking.

  October 2060

  Tonight I don’t have any doubts. For the first time in my life, I’m taking steps that are completely my choice. For the first time I’m striving for something I believe in. I don’t know how things are going to turn out and maybe that’s the purpose of life. I don’t want to be handed the answers. I want to learn the answers for myself, because that’s the only way I’ll believe them.

  Confidence grows when you know what you want, when you don’t have to be told who you are. You know it on the inside so you don’t have to force it on the outside. It just radiates. And your steps become effortless.

  For once I believe in something. And it’s like a map showing what direction I should go. There’s only one certainty in life: how you come into the world. Where you go from there is up to you.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I can’t believe you are dating the leader of the DS rebels,” Gabe told me. “No wonder your dad locked you up.”

  We sat outside on the balcony, and warm sunlight heated the air around us. I was feeling better today. Maybe because I knew I was seeing Justin that night. I sipped my coffee and it was hot and bitter and warmed my stomach. I lifted my head to the sun. I felt like a snake, arching my neck and looking for the heat. I allowed myself to sneak outside with Gabe for about ten minutes once a week. The Eye knew how long I was out of my room, but as far as I could tell, I wasn’t being punished for it. The Eye watched to see if I was interacting with people; it didn’t seem interested when I chose to be alone.

  “What I’d like to know,” Gabe said, “is how you can date someone who supposedly doesn’t exist.”

  He seemed fascinated with my life, almost as if he’d never been outside the walls of the DC, but every time I asked him about his past, he changed the subject. I didn’t press the topic. Apparently every male figure in my life preferred to be distant and taciturn.

  Gabe sat on one end of the balcony and I sat on the other. It was about as close and intimate as I could get.

  I pulled the legs of my sweatpants up to let the sun touch my skin. “I wouldn’t call it dating. Justin’s a little more closed off than the average person.”

  “You can’t really blame him, considering.”

  I raised my eyebrows at the last word. “Considering what?”

  “You know. What happened with his last girlfriend, Kristin Locke?”

  The word girlfriend almost knocked me over. I set my coffee cup down and stared at him. “Who’s Kristin Locke?” And how do you know more about Justin’s dating past than I do?

  He looked at me with surprise. “Come on, you’ve never heard about her? No one’s told you anything?”

  There was shock on his face, like he saw I was missing a huge piece of a puzzle. Like this entire time, I never knew Justin. I sat up straighter and fixed my eyes on him.

  “Told me what?” I waited for him to explain while thoughts flooded my head until they spilled over. Kristin Locke was the love of his life? She broke his heart? She’s the mother of their illegitimate love child? “What are you talking about, Gabe?” I demanded.

  “Maybe it isn’t true,” he offered, and looked away, pretending to be fascinated with something in the distance.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Spill it.”

  He took a deep breath. “Kristin Locke died in a riot a few years ago. Justin was training her. People said they were dating, but I don’t know for sure.”

  “She died?” I asked. “What happened?”

  “It was a demonstration in Boise, Idaho. Protesters were there to fight a vote to build a detention center in the city. They were just trying to stir up some media attention and get people to sign a petition. It wasn’t supposed to be a huge event. But a bomb went off in front of the courthouse. She was the only one who was killed.”

  Gabe said he remembered watching it on the news. “Someone rigged an explosive under the steps. The police figured out it was an assassination attempt on Richard Vaughn, the designer of detention centers. He was going to speak there that afternoon.

  “The bomb was on a timer that short-circuited,” he said. “The only reason I remember is that after that, the DS rebels put a ban on bringing any weapons to protests. They’ve been completely outlawed since her death. They called it the Locke Down. No weapons. Fight with words, not bullets.”

  I nodded. I remember hearing about the Locke Down. It was a peace movement among protesters. It was a way to avoid violence: never carry the weapons to start it. I remember my father bringing it up. I just never knew the story behind it. But almost every story begins with another story’s end.

  So many pieces slid into place. Why Justin worked so hard to avoid violence. Why he was so protective of me. Why he never planned too far into the future. Why he was so determined to live in the moment. He claimed it was his parents and his upbringing, but I was suspicious there was something more. Fighting DS had always been so personal to him, more like a vendetta than a passion. Now I knew why.

  I realized my hands were clenched. Why hadn’t Justin ever told me about this? Didn’t he confide in anyone? He always told me never to hold things in because thoughts eventually make you crack. Did he think he needed to be a warrior all the time, that he was too selfless to feel grief?
r />   “I’m sure he was going to tell you eventually,” Gabe assured me.

  I nodded but my head was weary. My heart was tight. I wanted to be there for Justin. But how can you be there for someone who doesn’t need you? It’s like trying to scale a wall without anyone on the top throwing you a rope. You just keep sliding down and eventually your muscles give out, and your energy and your will and your heart.

  ***

  Gabe and I took the elevator down to the basement at midnight. I had showered and put on fresh clothes but I still looked battered and tired. I was barely sleeping and there were purple shadows under my eyes. My hair was tied in a ratty ponytail, and my clothes hung loose on my scrawny limbs. A part of me didn’t want to see Justin. I was exhausted and anxious and the fact that I looked like a recovering meth addict didn’t help my self-esteem.

  Gabe opened the tunnel entrance and handed me a flashlight.

  “Want me to walk you the rest of the way?”

  I told him I’d be fine. He said he programmed the elevator to take me back to my floor. He shut the door behind me and I looked down the mouth of the tunnel. Another light hovered in the distance, still and constant. I followed it and my steps echoed around the curved walls. Justin waited for me with an extra coat hanging over his arm. He had on a black stocking cap and wore a down vest over his sweatshirt. I stopped when we were several feet apart. He handed me the coat.

  “It’s Clare’s,” he said. “It’s a little cold out.”

  I put my arms through the sleeves. I didn’t meet his eyes.

  He took a step closer to me to see how I’d react. I expected a rush of nerves, but instead I felt a warm energy press against my chest. I still craved him. He reached out and brushed his fingers across my hand, but carefully, to see if I’d snap them away. We were both relieved when I didn’t. I finally looked up at him. We stood a foot apart for a few seconds, watching each other.