by Sarah Noffke
“My prince,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I tried to protect you. I knew what he was planning and I tried to stop it, but in the end I failed. And I left you to bear the weight of his abuse alone. I’m sorry.” Looking at Violet, I realize instantly why she haunts. Tutu once told me every spirit has a reason for staying in this realm, when passing is always an option to them. Rogue’s mother is punishing herself. “I left you, although I intended to stay and protect you. I’m so so so sorry. Forgive my stupidity. It may have gotten me killed but it harmed you the most. And even still, I’ve been here every day, my prince, watching over you, bearing your pain with you, and then waiting for you to return.”
Tears I don’t have control over race away from my eyes, gravity pulling them to the ground. Rogue rushes at me, cups my face in his hands. “What is it? What did she say?”
I stare at the ghost hovering a few feet away. His mother’s ghost. “She loved you so much. Protected you until she couldn’t.”
He backs up, his eyes watering. “I know. I’ve never blamed her. She didn’t know he was a monster. How could she? He hid it so well.”
“She’s sorry she left you,” I say, my eyes on Violet.
He turns around, his eyes unsure as he studies the room.
“She’s right there,” I point to where Violet hovers a few feet away. Rogue centers on that spot.
“Mother,” he begins in a voice I don’t recognize. “Don’t blame yourself. I never have. Or will. I love you.”
And just when I think Rogue will say more to the ghost of his mother, he turns his attention on me. There’s a fragile elegance on his face. He’s trying to contain a buried emotion. It’s tearing at him from the inside. Trying to claw its way out.
“Did you learn everything? We shouldn’t stay much longer,” he says in a croaky rush.
I nod, but hold up my hand to pause him. I step forward closer to Violet, who hovers at Rogue’s back. Her eyes are on him, a quiet regret in them. “You hear that?” I say to her. “You don’t have to torture yourself by existing in this state of perpetual heartache any longer. You protected Rogue how you could by staying here, but now you should leave. Free yourself. And maybe by doing that you’ll free Rogue. If he didn’t have to know you were imprisoning yourself here, maybe he would be freer too. You’ve done your job. Given us more tonight than we could have ever found on our own. And more than that you’ve protected Rogue, but he can do that now, as you can see.”
She nods at me, an elegant picture of poise and grace. “You, darling Em, are worth every bit of my son’s affections. You’ve always been the center of his universe and now I see why. Take care of each other. And maybe one day we’ll meet again, but I hope for you, not anytime soon.” Her aura pulses bright, a dazzling array of colors. And, pixel by pixel, she fades, like a figure of dust being swept away in a windstorm. “Tell him that he was my greatest joy, my greatest love.” And then she’s gone.
“I will,” I whisper to the darkness.
Tutu’s hand is the one that surprises me; it claps down on my wrist. I hadn’t realized she moved from the sofa. Worried for her strength I turn to her, but her eyes aren’t tired. They’re full of astonishment. Wide. Speculative. “I’ve never seen a spirit pass over. It’s simply marvelous.”
I don’t know how to respond, so I bite my quivering lip.
“She’s gone?” Rogue says, sounding disappointed.
I’m about to say something when Tutu cuts me off. “Oh no, child, don’t be sad. Be joyous. Be happy. Your mother isn’t gone. She’s free. And she’s more with you now than ever before.”
Chapter Nineteen
We try to escort Tutu back but she is insistent that she’s fine, so I give up the cause. Then I turn my attention to Rogue. He needs the full story. I figure I know how to kill two birds with one stone: get a safe place to talk and also a few more answers. I tug him toward the center of town, whispering in his ear where we’re going. He gives me a startled look, but agrees nonetheless. It will be risky to move through the town during mid-afternoon, but we don’t have any choice. If we can race to a safe place fast then we’ll be all right.
Leeching Rogue’s gift of speed, I dart through the town beside him. Multiple times I catch a stranger’s curious gaze in my direction. I’m like a gnat in the sky, there and also not there. Gone before they can fully register my presence. Borrowing Rogue’s speed I’m too fast for the human eye to fully catch.
We arrive at the apartment in less than five minutes, which is twenty minutes shorter than it would have taken me. I knock. Wait. When no one answers. I jiggle the door handle and to my relief find it unlocked. Even as an outsider, Ren has the “unlocked” preference. That might change after today.
Twisting the handle, I push the door open to find a darkened apartment. The thick shades are drawn shut. He’s gone. Off working for Vider. I pull Rogue in after me, turning on the only light in Ren’s apartment that I’m aware of. We both squint from the brightness, but soon recover. And then I settle Rogue on the ground in front of me to tell him everything I’ve recently learned. His earnest face looks ready to learn the knowledge, but I worry about the burden this will take on him.
***
Rogue’s expression hardly shifts while I explain what his mother told me. If he’s surprised by the new level of low we learned his father is capable of then he doesn’t show it.
“And these children he took, it was over twelve years ago?” Rogue asks.
“Yes.”
“And they’re all dead now?”
“That’s what your mother said. He got rid of them when he didn’t have a use for them any longer.”
“He murdered them,” Rogue says.
I nod.
“I wonder if he only experimented on them to find the serum or if he had other uses for them.”
I scratch my head, not even having considered this. “Your mother didn’t say.”
“And she may not have known,” Rogue says, picking at the beige carpet. “It’s only that I know my father, maybe better than my mother did, since she was blind to him for so long. He isn’t wasteful. He uses everything and everyone to the fullest extent and only gets rid of them when they’re useless.”
I’m suddenly haunted by the memory of Vider’s piercing eyes when I saw him in the labs. The way he leered at me and made threats of the things he would do to me before I was converted sends new shivers over my skin. “We do know that he’s responsible for the abduction of dozens of children and their deaths. We know how long he’s been planning this and how low he’ll go to have the absolute power he desires,” I say and again another shiver runs through me as I think about all the new faces I spied during the race over here. Vider has already expanded the borders of Austin Valley and recruited more Middlings and Dream Travelers. Who knows how far his reach could extend? How many people he could control and oppress?
“I’m not sure what good knowing this history does for us,” Rogue says, a slight look of defeat on his face.
“Well, if we can prove it then we can turn people against him. That’s what your mother was going to do. Expose the truth.”
“We’d have to break through a lot of brainwashing, and something tells me it won’t be as easy with others as it was with Parker.”
“No, it won’t be, because Parker is directly involved. Most Reverians serve in more common ways, have no tie of guilt to what’s going on like Parker does,” I say. “But your mother said something that I think we can look into leveraging. She said that Vider uses certain mind controls on Middlings, like subliminal communication. If we can figure out how to break that then we might have a hope of getting through to them, but we’ll have to discover evidence to what he’s done.”
Rogue nods. Looks at me and then around at the empty apartment, which he keeps regarding with a quiet nervousness. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
“Yes, my dear old uncle seems to be an expert on these matters.”
<
br /> Chapter Twenty
Rogue explodes into a standing position at the slightest rattle of the door handle. It takes me several seconds longer to join him. We both stand, facing out at the hallway, waiting for the owner of this apartment to greet us. Ren’s steps are slow on the plush carpet, tentative. He must know we’re here because the light is on.
Like a cat—curious but also hesitant—Ren takes another step until he’s looking directly at us. Over his arm is draped a trench coat and on his face is an undeniably contemptuous grimace.
“What in bloody hell are you doing in my flat?” he says, his voice low, strangely calm.
“I need your help,” I say, stepping in front of Rogue, who I sense is at the ready. Ready to defend. Ready to run.
“You need a freaking clue. You need boundaries,” Ren says, tossing his coat on the counter bar which divides the living room from the kitchen.
“She doesn’t know what those are,” Rogue says, daring to enter the conversation.
“And who in the hell are you? Did you freaking bring Tarzan with you?” he says, sizing up Rogue’s jeans and boots, looking at him like he’s a Martian.
“Who’s Tarzan?” Rogue asks, sounding strangely amused.
“Doesn’t anyone in this valley watch the telly?”
“What’s a telly?” Rogue asks, and now I know from the sound of his voice he’s smiling.
Ren unbuttons his dark green suit jacket and slips it off before flinging it with the coat. He looks tired, and also a little unsure how he’s going to deal with me. Finally he spins around and runs his hands through his spiky red hair. “All right, come on with it. I’ll entertain your silly questions.”
“Really?” I say, relief breaking across my face. “I thought you’d at least attempt to kick us out.”
“Oh, we’ve been through this, luv. I tell you to leave. You threaten to fry me with electricity. The whole exchange is quite tedious,” Ren says with a yawn. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?”
I do believe I’m slowly breaking Ren down. He almost looks a tiny smidge happy to see me as he eyes me and then Rogue.
“But first things first, you have to tell me what that is,” he says, pointing at Rogue.
I turn and look at Rogue, who as I expected bristles from Ren’s insolent manner. He doesn’t look offended but rather intrigued by his brazen nature. “Don’t worry, Ren seems to insult most people equally. He doesn’t have any extra disdain aimed at you.”
“That is inherently false, Emmy,” Ren says, pinning his hands on his hips. “There’s quite a long list of people who I treat with way more contempt. But you’re correct everyone starts off on equal, despicable ground with me. I’m nothing if not fair.”
“He’s your uncle?” Rogue says, looking between Ren and me. We don’t hold much resemblance, but I do take after my father.
“And who are you?” Ren says, slowly, like Rogue doesn’t speak English.
“This is Rogue. He’s—”
“Well, well, well, do you have a new talent, Em? Can you resurrect the dead?” Ren says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking ten percent more intrigued than before. “I have heard stories of the poor President’s dead son. Tragic story, although there’s a dozen versions depending on who you ask.”
“You’ve been asking about Rogue?” I say, not expecting this new direction in the conversation.
“Oh, I’ve been asking about various things. Doing a bit of investigating of my own,” Ren says, giving me a smug look. “You’re not the only one who wants to put a systematic end to all this bollocks.”
“Well, as you can see, Rogue isn’t dead. Simply another series of lies the President is responsible for,” I say.
Ren strokes his red goatee. “Rogue’s not dead. Hmmmm…This is highly interesting. This place never ceases to surprise with its conspiracies, does it?” He strides to the plaid armchair and takes a seat, then looks out at us with mild surprise. “Don’t just stand around and stare at me, have a seat. Let’s hear why you’ve broken into my flat and interrupted my nightly schedule.”
There’s still no other furniture in the place. I stay standing. “You’re familiar with subliminal communication, right?”
“If by familiar you mean I pretty much wrote the book on it, then sure,” Ren says, eyeing his nails.
“Are you aware that my father uses it on Middlings?” Rogue asks.
Ren regards him for a second then flicks his eyes back on his nails. “He also uses hypnosis to implant ideas in their minds, as well as the minds of Dream Travelers. You’ll find, cowboy, there’s isn’t much I don’t know.”
“You didn’t know I was alive,” Rogue says.
“Didn’t really care,” Ren fires back.
“But you just got finished saying that me not being dead was highly interesting.”
“What is he, a freaking court stenographer?” Ren says to me, waving his hand at Rogue.
“I’m a Libra actually,” Rogue says, enjoying this exchange too much.
I shake my head at the both of them. “Can you tell us how subliminal communication and hypnosis works?”
“Sure thing,” Ren says, with a wicked grin on his face. “And then I’ll go ahead and tell you where the fountain of youth is.”
“So, it’s not something you can easily explain, got it,” I say. “Can you tell us how to break the messages or hypnosis?”
“You have a knack for asking extremely impossible questions, followed by trivial ones,” Ren says. “What’s the secret of life? What’s one plus one?” he squeals, doing an awful impression of me.
I turn and look at Rogue, who’s actually smirking at Ren. “See, I told you, he’s super delightful.”
“I am not,” Ren says, his voice dripping with offense. “Don’t you go off spreading rumors, Em. If people think that then they’ll try and strike up conversations with me.” He shivers with sudden disgust. “You know how revolting that would be?”
“Fine, I’d rather keep your charm all to myself anyway. Now we’ll get out of your hair as soon as you tell us how to stop what Vider’s doing with subliminal communication and hypnosis,” I say, regarding Ren with my most confident look.
“Easy-peasy, as I said before. You have to stop the communications. If my assessment of the President is correct, which it undoubtedly is, then he uses multiple ways to control Reverians. One is mind control, which his type is actually fairly weak, that’s why I suspect he employs so many other strategies. He also uses another weak form of subliminal communication when in person. He keeps his audience’s conscious minds busy while implanting messages into their subconscious minds.”
“How does he do that?” Rogue asks.
Ren gives him an obnoxious look. “If you’d let me finish…”
“My deepest apologies,” Rogue says with a slight bow.
Ren shakes his head. “Your father has mastered the art of hypnotic movements. The way he acts in front of people, his small gestures, usually minute ones, have a captivating effect on people. This works best when he’s one-on-one and I suspect it doesn’t work at all on Defects, which is another reason you all were elected for sterilization.”
“Well, that means we’d have to stop Vider from interacting and we might as well take him out at that point,” I say, defeat taking residence in my chest.
“Oh, don’t sound so sad, little lamb. Like I said, he’s not a master at it, like me,” Ren says, clapping his hand to his chest. “The President uses a lot of different subliminal communications to control people’s thoughts, especially Middlings. I’m thinking it will be a full-time job for you to discover all the ways he’s figured out how to infiltrate thoughts. The thing about subliminal messages is they’re subtle, hence how they become so effective, especially over time. But if you erase the messages then people might have a chance to form their own opinions of President Evil. And I’m thinking most won’t judge him favorably, especially if you can construct concrete evidence against him.”
“That’s what we’re working on,” I say. “So how do we spot all the messages, for the purposes of erasing them?”
“They could be anywhere. That’s why you’ve got such an impossible task ahead of you. Could be stereograms on posters, newspapers, individual correspondence, or anything else that has an image.”
“Stereograms?” Rogue asks, sounding intrigued.
“Oh, lordy, you lot should really get a proper education,” Ren says with a tired sigh. “Stereograms are two images laid on top of each other. The one your conscious mind sees is the acceptable one. The one your subconscious mind sees and usually accepts, because it’s so gullible, is the subliminal message, usually words, maybe an inspiring image.”
An almost overwhelming pressure creeps into my head and settles there as I think about all the thousands of places Vider could have placed these messages, right under the noses of his people.
“There’s also a more persuasive technique of doing this same thing with music or recordings of voices,” Ren says, his words adding to the weight building in my head. “And I suspect that the President has many other strategies he’s employing to maintain control. You lot will have a field day figuring them out, for sure.”
“And you’re also doing some investigating,” I say. “You’ll share with us, right?”
“No, missy, I work alone,” he says.
I shrug, having expected this answer. The sun has set during our long time here, and it will be safer for Rogue and me to move across the Valley to our next location. “All right, we’ll leave now. This gives us something to work on.”
“Thanks for your help,” Rogue says, nodding his head at Ren, who scowls at him in return.
I turn at the door, remembering something. “Hey, do you recall when you asked me what my name was short for?”
“Barely,” Ren says, through a loud obnoxious yawn.
“Well, you thought it was unlikely that my mother would name me just Em.”