The files within reminded me of my uncle’s file and my heart tightened in my chest. The files I was staring at were all for people who had families, people whose lives had been ripped from them as they were changed and morphed into something else.
I glanced at all the folders, telling myself to focus only on the experiments I had been told about rather than glance through all of them in my curiosity.
I pulled out the file for experiment 80111.
The first page was different from the first page in the file I had at home.
Experiment Summary
Status – Complete
Dr. Peter Jacobs
Number: 80111
Call Name: Tara
Cell #: 3-21 Ward: 3
Age: 15
Experiment Type: Stealth-Intelligence-Defense (S.I.D.)
Abilities: strength – 13, stealth – 8; high perception in dark, reverse adhesive skin
Eligibility: Low
Someone as young as fifteen could undergo these horrible experimentations? I could feel the hot tears of anger and disgust burning my eyes. I turned the page to the medical outline and, as I was flipping to get to the summary of why she was caught, Clark rounded the corner.
“Hey, we have about an hour before we should get out of here.”
“Okay.” I looked up at him and cleared my throat. “Can I just say that I hate this place?”
“Me, too,” he nodded, handing me a pen and some folded pieces of paper. “Write down their cell numbers so that we can find them on the blueprints.”
I took the offered objects. Since we had already decided which experiments each of us were going to look into, he went to find the files for those experiments while I read about Tara’s capture.
She had been born to a lesbian couple and without a Child-Rearing License. When her family was called into the Commission, her mother tried to poison Tara to keep her out of the Commission, though she survived. One of her mothers had been killed when she turned a knife on the people trying to capture them. The other one bit through her tongue in the transport car and died before they got her to the holding cells, leaving Tara to face the horrors of the Commission alone.
Once I could, I wrote down Tara’s cell number, trying to keep my emotions in check as I moved onto the next experiment.
Experiment 80200 was a thirty-one year old woman named Sophia in Ward Four. She had a voice that could speak at silent and powerful frequencies that could cause painful vibrations and cause mechanical interference—even causing bleeding in the brain. She had killed her abusive husband and spent five months on the run, crossing region boundaries—which was when the Commission was called in. She was finally caught robbing a bank.
Experiment 80201 was a fifteen-year-old girl, also from Ward Four, named Alexandra who had been altered for incredible strength and reflexes, but her story made the tears that had been welling in my eyes finally fall. At thirteen, she had been sold into slavery in her home country of Spain and had been bought by a corporate tycoon in America. She lived with him illegally for a year before the man was called into the Commission on charges of corporate fraud, and Alexandra was seized in the process.
The final experiment I had time to look up was 80270—Maddy—from Ward Six, a twenty-three year old who had a secondary skin added to hers that could absorb liquid like a sponge. She had been a college student with no previous record before being found possessing top-secret documents and delivering them to a domestic terrorist group, though she claimed she had no idea what the documents were for.
Clark and I left the records room and took positions around the library table, pretending to be busy with non-treasonous acts.
* *** *
After our break-in to the records room, we dared not to speak of what we had learned, still coming down from the adrenaline high. Thursday, Clark told me about the three experiments he had looked into, explaining how horrible the injustices were for these Commission-marked criminals.
It was unfortunate that Dana was gone the day on Friday, because Clark and I had to leave early to go to Archangel and our time was cut short. All the same, we both slipped into the records room where I looked at three other experiments while Clark searched for blueprints of the Commission near the front of the room.
“Lily,” he whispered even though we were alone. I closed the file I had and replaced it, walking to him as he unrolled some blue prints over one of the small file cabinets. We studied the several rolled-up blueprints, trying to find one that had the entirety of the Commission of the People, but each blueprint was one ward. When we realized we were not going to find a complete map, we looked at each ward to see if we could find any passages to sneak out experiments, snapping pictures on our phones for reference.
Looking over the blueprints led us to discussing how we were going to get the experiments out, a task which seemed impossible apart from walking them out the front door.
I did not get the chance to look at any other experiment files because by the time we realized we had been talking about the blueprints too long, we only had twenty minutes before we would leave for Archangel.
Quickly cleaning up, we left the records room and, as we approached the middle table in the library, we realized how lucky our timing was when we heard the door open. It was Mark, coming in to see if we were ready to go.
I had difficulty not discussing possible plans with Clark through the rest of the night and, with the way he kept turning toward me as if he was going to say something, I could tell he was having the same problem. Our minds were turning over the blueprints and where the experiments were situated in order to find a way to sneak them out undetected.
But we were around too many people. The most we decided on was that we would meet as planned with the other Commish Kids willing to help in the rebellion Saturday before the Commission meeting and, on Sunday, the two of us would explore the different passages in and out of Fort Daniels.
It felt unreal that we were actually making progress.
I was living in a state of high adrenaline and I was becoming bolder, which also meant I was becoming more daring when it came to my relationship with Mykail. When I got home from Archangel, still riding the high of excitement I felt from the secret planning of a revolution, I changed into new pajamas that I had bought the previous week—a short, satin nightgown that I never thought I would feel comfortable wearing.
When I walked into Mykail’s room around midnight, I could not suppress my smile at the shock that crossed his features. He halted from standing, his eyes wide.
“Well…” he said, clearing his throat, “that’s…new.”
I walked to him, smiling.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes,” he nodded, looking me over. I climbed onto the bed, taking his head in my hands and kissing him as I moved to straddle his lap. I was definitely becoming bolder.
But he was a gentleman, and still worried about Dana finding out how close we were, so I remained frustratingly pure. I wanted to have sex with him, to be daring and try new experiences. I wanted to be close to him in a way I was sure only sex could provide.
However, I was sent back to my room before anything more could come of our make-out.
Saturday morning, I left a note on the refrigerator telling my parents I had a study session with some friends and that I would be back in time for dinner. I took an early bus to the park where we were supposed to meet, holding my version of the scribbled note to keep up appearances that Clark and I were just as confused as the other Commish Kids as to who had handed out the notes at Archangel.
I was the first one there, but Clark arrived soon after and we sat on the bench in the early morning as the first family with a child came to play in the park.
“Maybe this wasn’t a good place…” I said, watching the little girl run to the swing set.
“As long as we stay in this open field and keep conversation quiet, we should be fine,” Clark said, also watching the family warily. “Everyone sho
uld bring their school stuff, so we really could make it look like a study group.”
“We should find a way to get into the fort in a way that keeps its real location secret,” I sighed. “Pretty soon the snow will keep us from meeting outside and making it look like some kind of picnic…”
Clark nodded in agreement and we fell silent, waiting for the others to show up.
“How many kids our age are in the Commission again?” I asked.
“Twenty-nine are in our age group, from seniors to freshmen,” Clark said quietly. “The rest are younger…a few older…”
“I’m worried that younger siblings will get involved.”
“It’s a chance we have to take,” Clark sighed. “I don’t like the thought either, but there is always a chance…”
The first Commish Kid showed up, causing Clark to trail off, watching the other teenager approach. It was Kelly, holding her backpack over one shoulder and looking around nervously.
“Hey, Kelly,” Clark greeted.
“Hey, Clark…Lily…” she nodded to both of us, standing awkwardly next to the bench. “What are you doing here?” she asked as casually as she could manage.
“I think the same thing you’re doing here,” I said, fiddling with the paper in my hands. I had to play that I was confused and unsure of my willingness to commit to taking down the Commission. That took suspicion off of me for the time-being.
She looked at the note in my hand and sighed, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out the folded note as well.
“I guess so…” she admitted. She set her backpack down on the concrete before sitting in the empty space on the bench with us. “Do you know who gave these out?”
“No,” we both said quietly and carefully. I was impressed that, even though we answered at the same time, we managed to pass it off naturally.
Kelly sighed.
“How do you feel about it?”
“Don’t know, yet,” Clark said, glancing around. “We’ll just have to see what people have to say.”
“But this is so dangerous,” Kelly hissed.
“Yeah, but…” I hesitated and then shrugged. “I think we’re all a bit pissed at everything to do with…well, you know.”
“Damn right,” Kelly nodded strongly.
When I saw the way her demeanor changed, I realized that keeping everyone angry was going to be the best way to keep everyone on my side.
The final twenty minutes before the designated meeting time passed agonizingly. By the time ten o’clock rolled around, twenty Commish Kids had shown up at the park, nervous, confused, and wondering who had given them—us—the papers. Clark and I played along, looking around the park even as the time to meet ticked past to see if anyone else would show up, looking for unfamiliar faces. We had all gathered on the few blankets some had brought and sat on the dried grass, huddled in blankets and coats, holding our books and bags, pretending to have a study session.
“So…what now?” Brent asked, looking around the circle.
“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged.
“Maybe we should wait a little longer…” Morgan said, her voice weak with worry.
“What the hell? Those people give us papers and then don’t show up?” Dean growled. “Who was it? Seriously, someone fess up.”
We all looked at one another, waiting for someone to speak.
“You two,” Dean growled, pointing and me and Clark. “Do you know who told you about the people with the scarves?”
“No,” Clark shook his head. I remained silent.
Dean sighed, rolling his eyes. “Well, we don’t need them.”
“We should keep our voices down,” Felicity hissed, looking at the few families braving the cold weather to play with their children.
“So…” Samantha said, “what do we do now?”
Everyone was silent, nervous and worried about being caught. I looked around the twenty teenagers, trying to read their feelings. Most were frightened, debating whether they should be there at all. It was dangerous to let any of them out of the group, now. Now that they knew who was thinking about plotting against the Commission, if some were not fully invested in helping, they were loose ends that could be easily exploited by Dana.
“Well,” I started nervously. “I guess the big question I have is…why do we want to go against Dana? I mean, I know why I want the Commission gone, but…what about you?”
“Why do you want Dana out of the way?” Ryan asked me, eyeing me suspiciously. “Both of you. You and Clark are his favorites.”
“Exactly why I want him gone,” Clark said quickly. “He’s crazy.” I nodded in agreement.
“You have a lot of information on him?” Dean hissed, his voice dangerous and full of anger.
“Yes,” Clark affirmed. “I can get close to him, so can Lily. We can find out things about him to help us.”
“Well, that’s all well and good,” Matt sighed, shaking his head. “But this is the Commission…” he looked around nervously, trying to see if there was anyone eavesdropping nearby. “How are we supposed to take it down?”
Everyone fell silent yet again. Most were too afraid to speak, worried about their own involvement in the plot. When several long seconds passed, I was about to speak, but Dean cut me off.
“We kill Dana.”
Everyone turned to him quickly, even me.
“Clark, could you get close enough?” he asked. Clark blinked, too surprised to speak for several long moments.
“The man does not sleep, he has no moment where he is vulnerable enough to get close enough to kill,” Clark told him sharply.
“It doesn’t take much to put a bullet through someone’s skull,” Dean snarled.
“Where is he going to get the gun and how is he going to get it close enough to Dana?” I challenged. Killing Dana right out of the gate would not accomplish anything. It would just give rise to a new leader of the Commission and immediate exposure of our involvement. I had to find a way to calm Dean down before he progressed the plan too far in a dangerous direction.
“Take one off the security,” Dean said. “Steal your gift’s gun when you’re already down in the Commission.”
“All the firearms are tagged,” Clark snapped. “I will not pin anything on Mark. We’ll have to find a different way.”
“We can’t just kill Dana,” Anne shook her head. “That solves nothing. We need to take out the entire organization, and to do that, we have to be sure to involve the people.” She tapped the book in her hands. “Just like Thomas Ankell.”
“How do we do that?” Jacob asked. “It will be traced back to us.”
“Thomas Ankell did it over social media and the internet,” Karmen voiced. She hushed when she saw a man walking his dog nearby. Everyone waited for the man to pass, watching Karmen and waiting for her to continue. “We could do something similar…”
It was everything I could do not to laugh and how easily the conversation had turned the direction I wanted.
“The Censor Board could trace the computers. It would take a matter of hours for us to be found out,” Cody said.
Clark straightened up next to me.
“Cody,” he said. “Your mom is on the Censor Board, isn’t she?” he asked. Cody nodded. “What if the signal came from the CB’s computers?”
“What do you mean?” several of the kids asked, confused.
“Where would the signal go?” Melody said, looking at Clark seriously. “There’s a million different…oh,” she stopped, pointing at Clark with a knowing grin. “I see what you mean…”
“You mean…sending a mass message out to the people of America through the Censor Board computers?” Cody breathed. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t know…how could you do that?”
“It would depend on what kind of system they run,” Melody said. “I bet if Clark and I could get in there and see what type of computers they have, we could figure something out.”
“Are you good with compute
rs?” I asked Melody.
“She’s a genius,” Clark nodded.
“But how would you get into the Censor Board?” Anne pressed. “Let alone get in long enough to program something…”
“That’s a good point…” Melody admitted.
“You know, my mom gives tours to my friends sometimes,” Cody said. He looked at Clark and Melody. “I could get you guys in. But…getting into the actual computer room…I’d say it would only be for three minutes, at most.”
“We would have to know the system already,” Clark said, looking at Melody. “For a mass signal like that, we’d need to program things beforehand.”
“Is there a way for you to get a video of the computer?” Melody asked, looking at Cody. “Can you take a video discreetly with your phone?”
“Maybe…” Cody said, making a face. “I don’t know. I’ll have to see next time I’m at the Censor Board. I’ll let you know.”
“We want to do this soon,” Dean said sharply. “So, try.”
“I will,” Cody assured, trying unsuccessfully to keep the indignation out of his voice.
“But if you take a video, try to make it a live-stream thing. Call me and use your camera, but don’t record anything,” Clark said. “When Dana takes the phones we check in at the Commission, he lifts all the files to keep tabs on what we’re doing.”
“Okay,” Cody nodded. Everyone seemed much less horrified at Dana’s monitoring than I was. I guess it made sense, but I was still surprised that I had not realized sooner. I was thankful Clark handled everything on my Commission phone.
“But what message are you going to send?” Morgan pressed. “It has to be something that will get people’s attention and will get them to wonder.”
Everyone started throwing out ideas, which I listened to carefully. Clark was quiet next to me, knowing we had already established our message. I let the others talk, taking some aspects of their ideas and adding it to the one I already had in mind.
Finally, I spoke up and told everyone the plan we had discussed before, telling them my idea as if it was just coming off the top of my head. Clark agreed as if he was hearing it for the first time. Adding little ideas that we had already discussed when we came up with the original message. The others were soon adding their own ideas and I agreed to make the prototype.
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