Rising Up: A YA Dystopian Sci-Fi Series (Tranquility Series Book 1)

by Tanya Ross

  Weeford whistled. “Yeah. I can see it. And then?”

  “We go in and take Ember out. For medical reasons, of course…we’d come to her aid.” He could feel a smile growing wide.

  “Wow. It could work. It’ll be tricky gettin’ that stuff, though. It’ll have to be tomorrow. I’m already off.”

  “Can you come in the morning first thing?”

  “Don’t know if I’ll have it by then. I’ll try…”

  “If you can’t, just come as soon as you can. We’ll maybe have to think on our feet. Delay.”

  “We’ll need masks, too. No good if you or I pass out.”

  “Good thought. See you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wee?”

  “Yeah, Will?”

  “Thanks.”

  “No worries, Bro. Just hope I can get there in time.”

  Will hung up, not sure whether the buzz he was feeling was anxiety or exultation. Only his Alt knew for sure.

  Journal Entry #5599

  Her name is Ember. Such an unfortunate name. Who names their child for what’s left over after a fire? Did her mother possibly have a premonition? But no matter. She’ll be protected and encouraged to grow the talent she has within her. She’s not yet explored her potential. Ember must develop her cognitive empathic abilities. She can then predict outcomes, distinguish truth from lies, and see the causes of emotions. She must be isolated from everyone, especially Will Verus. She is far too valuable to become emotionally attached to anyone, unless, of course, it is me. I already feel a connection to her.

  --Serpio Magnus, Magistrate

  39

  Ember’s Challenge

  The morning after the breakup, Ember found the Magistrate’s limousine standing by at number Twenty-five in Purple Vale. She had been waiting, her palms sweating. Now, as she stepped out of her home, she turned one last time toward the place where she had so many memories with her mom. She threw a kiss to the wind, hoping that her mother could somehow feel her love.

  She was like the walking dead after last night with Will, her heart shattered in a million pieces. Now this. Her march toward an unknown, but certainly bleak future. Losing Will. Leaving home. Living with the Magistrate. It was all too much.

  Her Alt measured extreme distress as she trudged down the sidewalk. Blinking and vibrating. Who cares? My Alt will be no longer used anyway. I won’t be treated the same as everyone else ever again. No felon going to the guillotine could have felt worse.

  The door to the elite car opened with its customary electronic sigh. Inside, the Magistrate himself smiled with self-confident joy, like a kid blowing out birthday candles.

  “Ember…so glad to see you.” His arm went up in the familiar gesture. “Welcome to your new life.”

  Ember returned the salute and settled hesitantly into the polished leather seat. The scent of chocolate saturated the limo’s interior, a reminder that even fragrances could control feelings of well-being.

  “Thank you, Magistrate.” She stepped into the idling car, her legs quivering.

  “Once we’re to the mansion, I’ll dispose of your Alt properly. Then you’ll see your new bedroom and meet the rest of the staff. You’ll have your own attendant, too. And your new wardrobe is already in your closet, so you’ll want to change immediately.”

  “Sounds… wonderful.” Ember tried to muster up a convincing enthusiasm.

  “I’m so glad you’ll be part of the family, Ember. You’re going to be the daughter I never had, my dear, and nothing is too good for you.”

  She suppressed an urge to vomit.

  Ember’s room was indeed amazing. Beautifully decorated in all the metallic shades of the upper Status levels—copper, silver, and gold, it had every convenience and comfort anyone would ever want. Her wardrobe, too, impressive—fit for a queen. The latest styles arranged neatly in her closet, all in a color called ‘platinum,’ were gorgeous. The Magistrate assured her that no one else had clothes this color—a metallic tint of pale grayish-white that resembled the metal, platinum. Yet nothing compared to the cloak. It was breathtaking. Silks, satins, velvets, and metallics in Status colors overlapped in inch-wide vertical stripes from top to bottom.

  “Your cloak is your signature piece, Ember. You’ll be wearing it every day.” The Magistrate’s eyes sparkled when he pulled it out specially to show her. “Tomorrow you’ll be introduced on the Tranquility daily broadcast wearing your cloak of many colors. We’ll introduce you as our ultimate achievement in Emotional Management—the ability to see and experience what others are feeling.”

  Ember sought a shred of courage. This moment was a perfect opportunity to find out more about the rings. “Magistrate, with all due respect, I don’t feel special, even with all the glittering clothes and the cloak. What’s missing is…is a ring. How can I go about being at the top of Tranquility’s Status when I don’t have an Augur Prize?”

  The Magistrate tilted his head as if thinking. “Ember, my dear. You certainly deserve that—you’re right. And, of course, if that makes you happier, we’ll want to make one especially for you.” The Magistrate paused, looked around the room, and then put his hands up in the air, drawing an imaginary box, as if to frame an idea. “Yours will have to be platinum. Gold and silver—no. Those will not do. As for the stone…there’s a rare gem that changes color—an Alexandrite. It will be perfect. Of course, the style will still be the Augur Prize design.”His excitement showed itself in a tangible aura—intense pink and green.

  This is going well. Now, to get the Magistrate to talk about the other rings. “You know, my mother had a ring? Remember her? Talesa Vinata?”

  The Magistrate let out a slow breath. He put his hand on her shoulder. His face became doleful.

  “I’m so very sorry about your mother’s passing. Such a shame—so unexpected! But, yet, here you are, a star in your own right.”

  Ember noted the sudden insecurity ebbing from the Magistrate’s psyche. If she could continue to press…She gathered up her nerve. What do I have to lose? I’m in a position of power—he put me here. I can’t imagine he would deny me anything at this point. Still, she trembled a bit as she pushed on.

  “Yes. I’ve put all the sadness and negativity from that time behind me. But I wonder if I could see some of the rings? If it’s not too much trouble, of course.” She felt a rush of achievement once she said the words. This was uncharted territory. Ember looked squarely into the Magistrate’s eyes. The blackness there seemed infinite. She looked into their depths, daring her own courage to become a counterforce. She boldly held his gaze.

  The Magistrate blinked as if he had just awakened, and then, to her surprise, chuckled. “You’re more ambitious than I thought you’d be. But, you’re Elite now… just looking at the rings for a minute should be alright. We will keep it brief, though. You need to settle in. There’s much you will learn, and plenty of time to learn it.”

  “Of course. I’m just beyond excited about having my own ring. I’ve admired them so much.”

  “Then right this way.” The Magistrate stiffened with importance as he turned to lead her out.

  Ember wondered why this quest was all so easy, but she was still filled with trepidation. She followed the Magistrate through the residence to an interior entrance to City Hall. Who knew there was a way to City Hall by just going through a simple door? Once inside the lobby, they walked across the room, passing A.S.P.E.R. at a desk along the way. She felt the memory of her encounter there acutely—a sad steppingstone to a widening mystery. She heard A.S.P.E.R. greet them with a chirpy “hello,” after which the robot added, “Esteemed Magistrate. Have a perfect day.”

  Opening another door on the opposite wall, the Magistrate took her into a paneled library. The books on the walls were bound in colors indicating Status, each color on its own shelf, creating a leathery rainbow across the room. She bit back questions about why hard-bound books were there in such an official capacity when technology made informational books
obsolete.

  The Magistrate strode over to a section of the wall that held no books. Instead, a wooden panel carved with a dozen different faces of humans, all smiling, protruded several inches into space. The Magistrate touched something—Ember could not tell what—and the disturbing façade opened to become an entryway.

  Inside were crystal cases. Interior lights glowed in each, setting off each ring’s stunning gems. Sure enough, the higher levels of rings were there. A ring identical to her mother’s Level Fourteen winked at her with its amethyst purple stone, while the male Level Fifteen ring next to it, a sapphire, glowed like a dark star. The next ring’s Goldstone gem had a glittery metallic flash, made from copper oxide crystals, the epitome of Level Sixteen. A slightly grayed clear stone was the ideal stone for “Silver” Level Seventeen, and the last ring’s gem, for Level Eighteen, glinted gold.

  The Magistrate spoke. “Each ring embodies the spirit of the stone and the level’s core value. See the stone for Level Seventeen? That’s Phenakite. It balances energy. It comforts and stabilizes. It offers energy protection and relieves and alleviates despair and fear. The Level Seventeen core value is ‘Enlightenment,’ so I think the stone captures that well, don’t you?”

  “Yes. And they’re beautiful!” she said. Beautiful and deadly. “Could I try one on?” She gave the Magistrate an innocent smile, hoping he would be straight with her on the real reason they were under lock and key.

  “No, no, no, my dear Ember. Your ring will come to you in time. For now, we are letting these retain their energy fields until they’re ready for the next group of honorees. And, now, we must go. We’ve spent enough time dreaming.”

  Ember felt relief at not having to put any of the rings on her finger. But frustration surged inside like boiled soup. Even though he considered her to be Elite, he wouldn’t admit to the poisons buried in the rings. She scanned his emotions, knowing his affectionate words were camouflage for a coiled viper.

  40

  Ember’s Deja Vu

  As she lay in the king-size bed that night, her mind raced. She thought about the rings again, their beauty a sparkling disguise for whatever poison they held. At some point, could she warn the people who would receive them? Could she tell someone in the Elite what she knew? She couldn’t even tell Will. Her stomach dropped. Some way, somehow, the truth had to come out. Were there more answers to be found in City Hall?

  Finally, she got up out of bed. It was impossible to sleep. Nor did she welcome her sinister dreams. She had to make use of her time when the Magistrate and others weren’t around. She slid her fingers along the soft fabric of a silky nightgown. This would never do. She’d need an outfit suited to exploring. After switching on a tiny light inside the closet, she pulled out a pair of tight pants and a loose velveteen tunic that hit her mid-thigh. Comfortable and warm, the clothes were perfect. She threw off her nightgown and dressed quickly, deciding against shoes. They would be far too noisy as she walked.

  Her bedroom door had an interior bolt for privacy, although the Magistrate had assured her that she would never need to lock it—she was protected here. She put her finger on the latch where it picked up fingerprint permission. She winced and then froze when she heard its answering “click.” It slid open with barely a sigh. After a moment of suspended effort, she guardedly poked her head out of the doorway. No one could know she was up roaming the mansion. Who knows what the Magistrate would do? Perhaps then the lock would be on the outside.

  The hallway beyond was inky, a shroud of security for her midnight probe. As she went along, her bare feet made tiny impressions in the fleecy carpet but no noise at all. It was as if she were a ghost floating along the floor. She even controlled her breathing, making sure her adrenaline didn’t cause an audible rush of air.

  She stood at the end of the hallway, mentally tracing the route she remembered. The interior entry to City Hall was on the opposite wall. The moonlight from an adjacent window pearlized the raindrops on the glass and illuminated the metallic shine on the door to City Hall. She scampered across the room, not knowing if she would discover an accessible entrance or a secured one.

  She was instantly rewarded when the electronic knob turned with no resistance, and the door slid open, but her heart pounded when A.S.P.E.R. greeted her from the front desk, blinking her eyes and moving stiffly, apparently “awakened” by Ember’s intrusion. Ember hesitated, frozen in place, worrying about further alarms, but when A.S.P.E.R. settled back into a fixed pose, she advanced toward the library. I guess even artificial intelligence needs to sleep, she mused.

  The library also had easy access. She began to wonder if she was dreaming her way through this. She imagined that the Magistrate had no need to lock the inner doors. He alone would be inside at night. Even the servants were gone.

  Wishing she had a whisper of light, she took a moment to adjust to the gloom there. Her eyes scanned the room, stopping on the panel with the carved smiling faces, now appearing eerie in the shadows. She could perhaps steal a ring, but she remembered the rings were under lock and key. Something else…

  Her eyes settled on the books lining the shelves. She pulled a yellow one out at random and flipped it open. The book held handwritten pages. What secrets did it hold? She stopped at an entry, straining her eyes to read it. A few words were in bold, and she could pick those out. “Happiness,” “monitoring” and “hope,” but the darkness made it impossible to read more. She slid it back and pulled another, this one’s cover a kelly green. But, just like the other, the book was thin, possibly containing about a hundred pages, and hopelessly indecipherable in the dimness. I’ll have to take one with me, she thought, but which one?

  In the gloom, she backed up into a chunky desk, hitting her left heel on a broad, heavy leg. Vibrating pain tore through her foot. “Shazz!” she yelled out. Putting her hand over her mouth, she froze. She desperately hoped the Magistrate was a sound sleeper or that the walls of the place were solid. So clumsy.

  After a minute, she heard nothing and began to relax again. But it was time to go. The longer she stayed, the more vulnerable she was. Now, grab a book and—

  The library door slid open. Her heart skipped a beat.

  She dropped to all fours and scrambled around the desk’s solid hulk, finding the desk’s chair well, a perfect cubby for hiding. She didn’t dare breathe as she wedged herself into the space, silently thanking the chair for being pushed aside.

  It has to be the Magistrate. Frik! She wanted to melt into the floor.

  She could see nothing from her vantage point—it was both protection and a blind spot. She heard soft footsteps trolling the room. Exasperation and puzzlement flowed her way, hitting her like a fuzzy cloud. The person seemed to pace for several interminable minutes before stopping; then a shallow beacon of light swept the room, stopping here and there. She held her breath when the pinpoint beam finally settled on the top of the desk. Then, as if the final illumination was satisfactory, Ember heard the person soft shoe his way back out the door, its “whoosh” of sound a balm to her panic.

  She exhaled in relief and gradually crawled out. She grabbed the desktop’s edge, pulling herself up. Her fingers hit on a flat object on the desk. It was another book, this one a dark color. She wouldn’t have seen it in the gloom, but this seemed meant to be—the book she’d “take home” to read. She picked it up, turning it over in her hand. Her mind was a mush of emotions and conflicting ideas. If she could see her own aura—which was a gift she didn’t have—it wouldn’t have been a pretty sight.

  It had been a close call, but she was still safe. She had no idea who had investigated the library in the murky darkness. Was it the Magistrate? Or a servant? The cover of night was a security blanket, but it also yielded no answers.

  The best payout was the mysterious book. She craved its explanations. Something she could use against the Magistrate or the Elite? Inanimate objects had no auras, but she felt the book’s presence as strongly if it were a real person. She pulled u
p her shirt and firmly tucked the five-by-seven-inch tome into her underwear. It lay perfectly flat, tight against her skin. She dared anyone, even on the Magistrate’s turf, to search her private parts.

  She could return to her quarters and settle down to peruse the book. She sighed. No. She’d get out of here somehow and find Will. No matter what he said, no matter why he was distancing himself, she knew he would help her read and analyze the book. He had to. He was her one, singular hope.

  She tiptoed her way to the library door, daring the surveillance cameras whirring away in the dark to find her. At this point, the electronic supervision didn’t matter. As instrumental as she was to his vile plans, she knew in her head, even if she were caught, the Magistrate would never damage her. In spite of it all, she shivered. Her mouth went deathly dry.

  She broke out in a fresh sweat. She was going to charge to the front door of City Hall and flee. She could see no other way.

  Her anxiety fueled her sprint, each step seeming faster than the last, the door looming large before her. Her white knuckles shone brightly in the silvery moonbeams sliding down from the promontory windows as she grabbed the massive lock and turned. Gears clicked. Then the door opened with a purr before a piercing siren ripped through the air.

  Shazz!

  Ember bolted out the door, running as fast as she could. She prayed for wings—for gazelle legs—for invisibility—anything—yet knowing that she was merely mortal and that she must prevail on her own. Adrenaline was her gasoline, her footsteps slapping the cobblestone pavement as she barreled along with full scale abandon.

  Oh, no! The rain had begun in earnest for the night. Already there were shallow puddles forming. The rain was a steady shower, as she catapulted herself down the pathway.

  Behind her, low-beam spotlights from outside City Hall abruptly flared into the blackness, illuminating her flight path and electrifying her panic. Bare. Exposed. She trekked on, willing herself to go faster and faster. She heard heavy footfalls trailing her, their scuffed sound powdery, consistent with distance. With them came more flashes of light. In that instant she could see everything around her as if a strobe punctuated the landscape. Just to her right, the Solace Institute loomed brightly and then waned in shadow. She jetted past the trees lining the avenue, their limbs normally welcoming, like arms stretched out. Tonight in the dark they harbored ghoulish shadows that pressed in on her. The rain became a deluge, and her feet slipped miserably on the unforgiving pavement.