Lost in Amber

by Esther Rabbit

  They all knew the answer. Getting the optans back to the lab meant rendering them powerless. If Beck trapped either of the hybrids in an antigravitational bubble, their powers would be useless too.

  Alex rubbed his palms together in thought. “Don’t forget he has another altered subject and Rufus now! And we don’t know who the altered subject is and what he could do. From Mia’s description, the subject is a Caucasian male, late twenties, maybe early thirties, short brown hair, and just about Mia’s height. That description corresponds to over three hundred seventy-two missing persons reports, nationally speaking.”

  Being so helpless felt like shit. “I really don’t have more info, Alex. He was in a dormant state for as long as I’ve seen him. I’ve given you all I know, yet I haven’t heard a word from you about Rufus,” Mia hissed, tightening her fists.

  “I know.” Alex shrugged as he pulled out his intersat. “We can confirm Rufus is alive. Judging by his algorithms, he was in a dormant state until twenty minutes ago. His kalenium reads signs of confusion, although his adrenaline levels spiked several times since. The symptoms I’m getting are compatible with being awoken from a coma. Maybe that’s how the body reacts after the anti-gravitational bubble…”

  Sam turned to Alex. “What about your team on Opt? Your gadgets, all the tech you brought?”

  “Mia gave me the coordinates of the lab the night she rescued us all. Gerard and Aline have portalled in the proximity of the lab, they know exactly where it is, we have a clear map of the place. Over the past day we’ve been analyzing strategies, angles, and choices and we’ve submitted the options to our new Chancellor.” Jasper rubbed his temples—personally, he didn’t particularly approve of any.

  Emma sensed the tension. “New Chancellor?”

  She could see Lilou’s eyes darting from left to right before she spoke. “Etienne’s shenanigans got our former Chancellor fired, so the Minister named a new one. I really liked our former Chancellor.” She sighed. “This one didn’t even take us seriously when we requested more staff; he only sent tech.”

  “What are our options right now, Lilou? With Beck I mean.” Zoey fixed her with an inquisitive stare.

  “At this point? Ambush—and come what may afterwards, but neither of you are a part of it.”

  It was hard not feeling a tad betrayed.

  Bullshit. Why go through all the trouble of saving them and wielding their powers if they were to waste it all on the side bench? It didn’t make any sense to Mia.

  “You have no way of getting into Beck’s lab if I don’t portal you inside,” Mia winked at Lilou, “so if the girls want in on this, they’re old enough to make their own decisions and I’ll stand by them.”

  Jasper shook his head at the sight of Zoey’s hopeful eyes.

  Girl power—a bunch of stubborn women playing dirty to get their way and join a mission they are utterly unprepared for.

  “Under no circumstance.” The calm in his voice contrasted with his features.

  “You’re off for the rest of the day, ladies.” Alex dropped his napkin on his seat and got up noiselessly, followed by the rest of the optans. They were quick to leave the premises, leaving the rest feeling as if they had no word in what was to follow.

  γ

  Girl power—the feelings of togetherness, supportiveness, and overall unity made Emma’s heart grow. She found herself in the comfort of her bed, staring at her majestic ceiling with hope and a pinch of satisfaction despite the imminent unknown. For the very first time, the optans couldn’t treat them as less than equals thanks to the power of circumstance and bonding. In fact, she was entirely convinced that the optan mission revolved more around not involving them than penetrating Beck’s enhancement-repelling layer.

  Training with Lilou had probably been scheduled in as a distraction as Alex and Jasper had to work on testing the hybrids in order to figure out Trenton Beck’s plan.

  There was no fear shadowing Emma’s mind, only eagerness to push her limits. She sighed and envisioned her desk. She’d left a client’s file on her keyboard to make sure she’d tackle it first thing on Monday. Back in her world it was late Tuesday already, and even if the optans had altered her timeline and stuck her in June, the thought of unfinished work still ate at her. Would Frank recognize her if they accidentally bumped laptop bags on the street? Would her own mother not know her anymore while her timeline was frozen?

  There was something both thrilling and terrifying about wiping everyone’s memory of you, and she was stuck in between, toying with the pros and cons. Being back in her leather skirt and silk top was most definitely a pro, challenging her limits, gathering the guts to give a different use to her nude stilettos, getting to know different beings—it kind of felt like an adult Erasmus experience.

  It took her back. To Paris—the city of self-discovery under a constant cloud where she’d learned to speak perfect French, broken two bikes and five umbrellas. The city where she’d studied and learned to love raisins, the place that taught her cheese closed the curtain on every meal and widened her palette. She’d never be caught dead riding a bike in her current neighborhood but never missed a chance while in France.

  Frank thought outdoor cycling was ridiculous. It had taken eons to break his shield and unglue his behind from the spinning bike, cussing under his breath as they cruised the cobbled passages and bustling Rue des Rosiers on vintage bikes with rattan cane front baskets.

  Frank also fiercely hated cheese. While there was nothing more mouthwatering than French Gougère and Camembert fondue for her taste buds, her own definition of a sophisticated home-cooked meal was apparently incompatible with Frank’s twisted features while trying to suppress gagging.

  She had rebelled against him to such an extent that she’d actually had cheese every single day since he mentioned the D-word, and she’d booked a trip to France on the morning before Sam’s kidnapping. She was set to fly in two weeks, the date set in an agenda full of a whole year planned in fastidious detail—yet now, she found herself completely unaware of what her next hours would bring.

  γ

  Mia found her image staring back at her from the bathroom mirror. She was tense, and the lump in her throat was getting harder to ignore.

  Don’t you fucking dare! She slapped her face with both hands, sending a ripple to her cheeks. Strategy. She needed strategy more than a numb frigging brain.

  She’d told the optans everything she knew: the layout of Beck’s lab and its coordinates, every conversation she remembered, every single detail on every single particle of dust on every single piece of furniture or tech she could describe. Enraged was how she felt at the absence of Rufus—powerless and downright dumb at her lack of perspective. Was Etienne’s purpose to destroy the Alliance? One hundred and fifty-six planets? Were they counting on her to portal Zoey somewhere close enough that she could shatter other planets—and if so, where did Rufus come in?

  She turned the tap on and splashed her face with cold water.

  Think, Mia, think!

  It felt better, safer, being around women. Even if she initially felt like a third wheel, they’d all been nice and accommodating. She trusted Emma from the moment she selflessly launched in head-first to help her get Rufus and the rest back. Unlike herself, Emma had everything to lose.

  Rufus…Dammit. Alex didn’t really show her how to get back to June, which meant he didn’t really trust she wouldn’t go after Rufus. He was right. If she knew how to find her way back, she wouldn’t think twice.

  Mia wanted something to happen. Anything. Anxiety caught at her chest as she glanced at the doves covering her arms and the semicircles of inked clocks that poked out from under her light pink tank top. She didn’t become this person to wait it out on the side bench.

  She had no clue if falling for Rufus had happened by chance or circumstance, but the feeling was there. They had kidnapped him from a bachelor party and he arrived sedated and dressed in a festive shirt and bright green shorts and flip flops. T
here was so much color on him, glowing like Christmas lights in the austerity of the lab. She’d watched it all from the window that separated the training room from the workshop.

  They’d stripped him naked and submerged him in the molecular pool for three whole days. She was the one they’d assigned to detach the receptor wires stuck to his head, as she did with the rest of the altered. Some were already dead when she pulled them out, trying to steady them on the operating table and showering off the remains of molecular goo.

  Her heart had skipped a beat when she registered his faint pulse, in a mix of happiness and sorrow for the man with the red beard as she’d given the news to Beck. He lived.

  She watched them pierce him with needles as his body contracted and convulsed against whatever they injected into him. She watched him fall in and out of multiple comas as she forced herself to emotionally detach from each subject. It had been different with him. She’d seen it all from beginning to end and she’d lived to tell him everything during his conscious breaks until, step by step, he regained consciousness and managed to pull himself to his feet, rusty, defeated, and painstruck.

  She held him as he learned to walk again and told him what Etienne and Beck had done to her. Rufus didn’t trust her at first, not until she took a beating standing up for him. They were always observed by Etienne’s men, who kept their distance as long as they were not being troublesome. She showed him how she’d managed to make a portal but was too afraid to go through, and not powerful enough to hold it for more than a split second. She told him how she’d contemplated suicide but held onto the hope that one day she would see her mom again and tell her she held the fault of her dad’s death.

  Physio, training, and lunch were the only moments they had together before being locked down and connected to machines monitoring their every twitch. The doctors who came in and out to examine them never addressed a word even when spoken to. Instead, hairstylist-turned-prisoner Rufus had made her paper planes and origami flowers from napkins, and braided pink wires in her hair on their breaks. They had each other.

  He only had his grandmother on the outside, longing for him and took life as it came, told her he’d break them out, but she knew there was no way around the prison they were in. No other way than going with the flow of their intense training where she was making daily progress and he was not.

  Precisely because she reached their expectations, she’d asked to spend more time with Rufus and Etienne agreed with certain conditions that involved her pushing Rufus to work on his skills. And so she did, until that forsaken moment when his lips changed her world, turning misery into hope.

  “(…) After a while there’ll be no noise set for the sound of our heartbeats (…) ”

  Jason Mraz - Let’s see what the night can do

  Stupid optans! Zoey’s heart raced at the thought of the optan team wanting to ambush Beck. It went against how Jasper told her they were. How could they ponder the consequences if they had nothing on the other end? They had nothing except faint ideas of what Beck had planned based on the enhancements Mia, Rufus, and herself had been given, and they knew for a fact optan skills were blocked under Beck’s roof.

  How could they possibly diminish their chances at getting the bastard by leaving us behind?

  She sat on the hardwood floor in her oversized green dress shirt and bright yellow socks, back propped on the bed’s white footboard, knees bent to serve as support for her forearms, leaving her fingers dangling in defeat.

  Jasper. She voiced his name in her head and saw his face. His perfect, stupid, stubborn face. He’d be dumb enough to get himself killed and drag Mia and Lilou right into the lion’s mouth. Another sigh followed.

  God, it’s agonizing. She looked at the palms of her hands for the first time since she nearly killed him. If she tried hard enough, maybe she could do it again—not kill him, but wield the skill that lay beneath her surface, make it work. She needed to dig a little deeper, try a little harder, and then, maybe then, they’d know she had to come with.

  Zoey turned her hands palms-up, trying to see the energy that wasn’t there. She had to find that opening source inside her. Eyes closed, she sat cross-legged and rested the open palms on her knees.

  Just like in yoga class, she pushed all thoughts of Jasper away, focused on her breathing and whatever was inside, hoping to find a way to funnel it back to her palms. Damn thoughts kept coming back in the shape of his face until she drowned them one by one. Hashtag motivation—no one would knock her down, not now.

  There you are… She felt energy and traced its movements with her mind between her collarbones and bellybutton, humming, pulsing, releasing itself in circles inside. Whatever it was, it…responded, growing in intensity as she called for it with all her being, revealing itself as a collective movement of particles within, finally allowing Zoey to take charge. A sequence of light followed, streaming from her core to her limbs like a chemical reaction taking hold of her body, lifting her from within.

  “What in the world do you think you’re doing?” Jasper’s voice broke the spell and startled her. She regained consciousness as she plummeted to the hardwood floor with a flat thump.

  Shit! What? Why did her body feel sore? Why couldn’t she hear him coming, or speaking for that matter? Shit! Her head was spinning. She had to prop both arms on the floor to keep herself from collapsing.

  “Your algorithms were off the charts! You were levitating mid-room!” And he couldn’t wipe that terrified look off his face, searching her frame with desperate eyes.

  “No I wasn’t! I was concentrating!” Zoey’s ears were buzzing and she felt a bit dizzy, a bit like being startled from a deep sleep.

  Strands of his hair fell on his face as his fingers brushed through. “Tell me what you felt! How did you do that?” He tried not to look horror-struck as she pushed her back against the footrest, dropping both hands in her lap. She studied them, still in a haze.

  “Are you okay?” He bent and brushed a thumb on her cheek. “What did you do, Zoey?”

  She could barely hear him. “What?” She read his lips as he spoke.

  “Are you out of your mind?” It sounded like he turned the volume from barely audible to loud by the end of his question. She looked at him, half confused and half blushing, finally realizing he held her face in his hands. There was madness in his eyes, insanity at the way she was playing with things none of them could remotely control. He tore away from her face and drew in a long breath before getting up to adjust his grey waistcoat and pull at the collar of his white shirt. She got to him. She got to him to the point where he wasn’t rational anymore.

  Zoey watched him turn around, pacing away as she bolted up, enraged.

  “So you can’t portal to other planets without their consent but you can show up in my room whenever you damn well please?” She scowled. “You can take over my life, make me wear this ridiculous-looking watch, bring out whatever Beck’s done to me, and just leave me behind while you go on your suicide mission?” Zoey’s fingers wrote air poems as she spoke. “Why go through all the trouble? What? Are we trophies you need to deliver to your Alliance? Circus freaks? I suppose they’ll want to cut us open and see what’s under all this!” She waved her fingers, sizing her torso.

  Jasper turned around, arms folded across his chest. “Yes, the Alliance is just itching to see your bra.” And it was sarcasm at its finest. “Are you done?” He shook his head and raised an eyebrow, clueless as to what “circus freaks” actually meant.

  Zoey clenched her fists in despair. He was not taking her seriously. He was ridiculing her, mocking her worry with the look parents give their kids when they had a tantrum. ‘Petulance.’ It made blood sizzle under her skin.

  He took a step in her direction, feeling her accelerated pulse from the distance. “I could freeze you.” His voice was calm yet intimidating, like saying ‘dare me’.

  She didn’t allow his eyes to disarm her. “I could fry you!” She pushed her chest forward in a me
nacing glare. There was determination in the way she said ‘fry’ and he felt it plenty just hours earlier.

  He took another step forward.

  She was trapped between him and the footboard of the bed. Half a step forward would cause immediate collision, sending her nose straight into his chest; half a step back and she’d land legs-up on her duvet cover, her oversized shirt not long enough to guarantee decency in the fall. She could have moved to the side but she was struck by the proximity of everything he was, her senses subdued by this staggering rush of adrenaline, fluttering from her curls to her toes.

  There was no time for thoughts as she launched herself at his lips, letting go of whatever had taken hold of her seconds ago. Transfixed, his thoughts were silenced by her taste as if taking an adrenaline shot, as if her lips sunk in a perfect fit, as if it wasn’t wrong.

  She did it again under his wide eyes and benumbing brain, too astounded to mentally process her actions yet bewildered at the response of his senses and how they surrendered under the witchery of her lips. The air got thinner.

  Jasper’s lips crushed on hers unrestrained, he cupped her face with both hands as her fingers slid along the sculpted forearms to meet his for a brief moment until she nudged him forward, propelling them both onto her bed. Unlocking his lips from hers, he pulled her further up on the duvet solely to immerse himself in another kiss under her dilated pupils a second later. Heat rose from every inch of himself he was no longer able to control. There was nothing but the sound of her gasps drawing him in, awakening something feral within.

  Whatever this was, it was pulling her in, the urgency of those perfect lips sinking in as if consuming her core, the way his body pressed against hers, warm and untamed. If hearts could explode, hers could detonate right now.

  Insane.

  This was insane and he was half-mad for allowing it to happen.