The Fractured Prism (The Prism Files Book 1)

by Brendan Noble

  Her eyes met mine in a duel as we faced each other. She spoke, harsh, “They could have killed me… killed us, Ivan! Don’t you see? You’re supposed to be my bodyguard, but all of this with Coyote, it puts me more at risk.” She paced around the apartment, taking deeper breaths and calming down slightly. “This place, it’s awful. I understand, but you can’t just go around killing people. That won’t change things.”

  I looked towards the crack in the wall where my gun was stored. Is she right? “Someone needs to fight back. We can’t sit back and passively wait for change, Julia. We are trying to change people’s minds, not to start a war, but we have to defend ourselves when they come for us.”

  She held her hands close to her and sat on the edge of the bed. I could see the gears turning in her head, and she looked down. “All the people you’ve killed. Did you have a choice?”

  I crossed my arms and looked at the ceiling. “There’s always a choice.” Meeting her eyes, I continued, “Sometimes that choice is they die, or I die. That’s the worst one to make.”

  She furrowed her brow. “But you didn’t kill those three thugs tonight.”

  I sighed, frustrated. “I told you, I don’t kill someone unless it really is life or death.” I knelt on both knees in front of her, taking her hands as emotion flooded my voice and tears ran down my face. “I would rather do anything else but fight if I knew it could make a difference, Julia. Anything. But for the average Red, there’s not many options besides fighting or laying down, getting beaten, and letting the system remain as is. You’ve given me another route, and I want to take it, but the world still needs Coyote for a little bit longer. Please, believe me that I hate this, I hate so many of the things I’ve done, but I’ve always tried to do what’s right.”

  She looked away, pursing her lips and thinking. Eventually, she looked down at her hands before up at me, her eyes full of tears of her own as she spoke softly, “If I’m going to help you, then you need to promise me something.”

  “Anything.”

  She sighed, and her voice shook with emotion. “I believe you, Ivan, but I need all of you, not half, if you’re going to be my bodyguard.” She sniffled as a tear ran down her cheek. “I forgive you for what you’ve done, but you have a choice to step out of the darkness. We can change things together, but you need to promise me that all of this is going to stop, that you’ll give up Coyote. I can’t have my bodyguard and my… friend as a leader in the Militia, killing people. If you actually want another way, let’s fight the system from within. Promise me this, and I’ll help you shatter the Prism.”

  Give up Coyote? I looked down at our hands and then back up at her. Why is it so hard to let him go? “You’re asking me to give up everything I’ve had for the last thirteen years of my life. I… I don’t know if I can do that.”

  Silence fell over the room for a moment as she looked at me with pain in her eyes. I didn’t know what to do and closed my eyes, trying to hold back the tears. Step into the light, or keep fighting in the dark? Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes. “You’re right. The Militia is needed, but I’ve got a chance to help you change things from inside. They need me for now, though, at least until Operation Blackout is done. After that, I promise.” I knew it wasn’t what she wanted, but I needed time to wrap up as much as I could.

  She bit her cheek and looked down. “Thank you, Ivan. That means a lot to me. And… I’m sorry, I don’t want to be controlling, but we have to be careful. Everyone is watching you, waiting for you to slip up so they can get rid of you.” She gripped my hands tighter and looked at me, her eyes full of concern. “I don’t want that to happen.”

  I smiled softly. “I’m not going anywhere. Who’s going to protect you from the small children and scary paparazzies if I’m gone?”

  My joke managed to lighten the mood as she gave a reluctant smile. Thank God, she doesn’t hate me. She looked down at our hands and thought for a second before slowly letting go and standing as she looked around the room. “So, this is where you lived before?”

  I stood as well and looked into the night through the cracked window. “Ironically, it’s larger than my room at the palace, but, yes, this is my old home. It’s not much, but it’s mine.”

  She touched some of the off-white paint peeling from the walls. “How can they let so many people live like this?”

  Leaning back against the windowsill, I crossed my arms and looked towards her. “We are excess, disposable. At best, we’re nearly free labor, at worst we’re rebels. All they need to do is keep us strong enough to work while ensuring we are weak and repressed enough to not actually revolt. Even with the Militia, they don’t consider us a real threat, and, without help, we aren’t. We don’t have the weapons or resources to fight a war.”

  Julia turned towards me, a look of pity on her face. “I’m sorry, Ivan.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t. I wanted you to see it, that’s all. This isn’t your fault, it’s theirs, and we’re going to make them pay…” I gave her a half-smile. “… and, with your help, have as few deaths as possible.”

  She softly smiled back and looked at her feet before checking her phone. “We’ve been gone too long…”

  “No problem. Let’s get you back.” I headed towards the door.

  She softly grabbed my arm as I was about to open the door, and I looked back at her as she spoke, “Thank you for showing me your world, Ivan. This… this helped.”

  I smiled softly at her and stepped forward, into the darkness.

  Chapter 29

  Back at the palace, Julia had requested a self-defense training session in case I couldn’t get to her in time. After our scare in the Enclave a few days before, it made sense, and I was happy to help her. Things were still a little uneasy between us when it came to Coyote and the Militia, but our talk had helped us vent and get on the same page. We both were willing to compromise to make things work, and she obviously cared about my safety.

  We were in the Royal Household’s gym, which was fully outfitted with everything you could ever want to work out with and more. We had the place to ourselves besides the noisy oversized fan on the ceiling. I was showing Julia how to respond if someone grabbed her from different angles, using pressure points or kicks to a sensitive area. I had expected her to be cautious or nervous, but she seemed determined to learn. She was a pretty good student, though, she seemed to enjoy getting to beat me up a little too much.

  “Let’s review. How do you escape from this hold?” I had her in a simulated choke-hold from behind, as if someone had snuck up on her like I had done to the guard at Heller’s place. Her hair was flung in my face. Wintergreen.

  She concentrated and responded intently, “Chin down, step forward, and then groin kick with that same foot.”

  “Good, now do it. Nicely please.”

  She tried to execute the move, and I turned sharply, keeping the hold in place to counter her. She was offended. “That was cheating.”

  “No, that is something you might have to deal with. Do it again, faster.”

  This time she clenched her jaw, moved quickly, and actually surprised me when she went left instead of right. I was thrown off balance, and the ugly scar on my abdomen was revealed as I fell to the floor. She noticed, and I self-consciously pulled down my shirt as I threw myself to my feet. “Nice addition of the fake to the left. Any way you can throw your attacker off balance is something you can use to your advantage.”

  She pointed softly to my side. “Was that...”

  I rubbed the back of my neck uncomfortably. “From the knife? Yeah.”

  Her eyes were full of concern. “Ivan. That’s…”

  I responded sternly, “No big deal. I’ve got worse.” As if that’s comforting at all.

  She looked at me skeptically before dropping the topic. She jokingly put her fists up and danced around in a fighting stance, losing the princess front with nobody around. “So, when do I actually get to hit you?”

  “Well, not that yo
u’ve actually learned how to pull your punches.” I looked at the bruise marks on my arms. “But, never.”

  She looked disappointed. “Come on. I can spar you.”

  I counted on my hand. “One, you’d lose quickly. Two, I’d rather not hurt you. Three, your parents would brutally murder me for what we’re doing now, but they would torture me first if they found out we were sparring.”

  She shrugged. “Okay, true.”

  I clapped my hands like I was a coach. “Now. Side hold.” I walked up beside her and put my arm around her waist. “I have you like this, plus an arm free to counter you, though it could also be a knife or a gun, as well. How do you escape?”

  She just looked at me for a second and giggled, checking around shyly to make sure no one had come in.

  Confused, I shook my head. “What?”

  She was cautious. “You just put your arm around me and are teaching me how to get out of it.”

  Rather awkwardly removing my arm, I stepped back. “Sorry, I was just…”

  She laughed. “Apparently that’s how you get out of it.”

  I blushed and stumbled over any real reply… dang it.

  She was trying to read me, her eyes narrow and analytical. “You okay, Ivan?”

  I rubbed my hand along the back of my head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. Did you still want to do this last hold?”

  She looked at me skeptically but let it go. “Yeah, just making sure.”

  Why is this so different now? I put my arm around her again. “This one is pretty easy. You’ll want to drive your heel down into their instep, which is a pressure point at the top of their foot. That should cause them to release their grip and give you enough space to throw a quick punch, knocking them off balance.”

  “Can I use this on Isaac?” That explains it.

  I responded sharply and released her. “Wait, is that why you asked me to do this? I thought it was because of the gang.”

  She looked down. “I… I just want to be able to protect myself.”

  Spinning around in front of her, I probably pushed too hard with my response. “Is he threatening you?”

  Her expression hardened, and she stepped away, shaking her head and packing up her things hastily. “I…I need to get ready for the TV interview. Thanks for the training, Ivan. If you can meet me outside my room in about 45 minutes, that’d be great. Wear whatever.”

  She picked up her bag and walked out swiftly as I just stood there and watched her go, only getting out a “Julia, wait…”

  I turned and kicked a nearby bag angrily, knocking it off its base. Idiot. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her look back at me as she heard it fall. What now?

  Chapter 30

  After wailing on a punching bag for about fifteen minutes, I went back to my room and showered quickly. Afterwards, I stood, bent over the sink, looking into my reflection in the mirror. My deep blue eyes scanned my pale face. What do I do: push, and risk her getting mad, or let it go and risk her getting hurt? I know what Delaware would say…

  I changed into a dark blue shirt with a navy suit before waiting outside Julia’s room for a few minutes. That, unfortunately, gave me more time to think. Why is she so uncomfortable talking to me about this? Was it me just being awkward? Is she just worried about the interview? Did I do something wrong? Ugh, women. I rested the back of my head against the cool stone wall.

  Eventually, she emerged with Anne and Rachel in tow and I quickly stood at attention. The handmaidens were coming along to help ensure she looked perfect on her first solo TV interview. She was looking professional with a navy blazer over her ice-blue button down and khakis. She avoided eye contact at first as she spoke, determined through veiled nervousness. “Let’s get going. They want me there a little early to go over what we’ll be talking about.”

  Silence filled the sedan on the ride to the studio as Julia said nothing, besides whispering something to Anne and Rachel in the back for a few seconds. I parked the car, and we took the elevator up to the third floor. When we arrived, Julia was taken to the make-up room and prepped by some Greens for the extra lights. I stood back, letting her have her space.

  Propaganda posters were hung everywhere, saying things like “Work Today For A Better Tomorrow” and “In the Prism We Trust.” I wondered if the people who created the propaganda actually believed their own messaging or if they did so out of fear. Fear is a powerful weapon. Typing filled the air along with some producers calling over the speakers for people to move into positions.

  Jasmine Emerson, a Blue, was the host of the show, “Real Talk,” and from what I’d seen from her, I was actually impressed. I was biased, though, as she was the only public TV host that didn’t display Coyote as a straight-up terrorist. That being said, she was restricted in what she could say by the government, and it was quite obvious when she was told to switch gears while on air. Still, it was good that Julia would be on the air with a friendlier face.

  When Julia was done in make-up, she sat next to Jasmine at the table on the set. Jasmine ran her through the questions that would likely be asked ahead of time, mostly nothing interesting: what it was like being a princess, how the family was, some small things about current events among the royalty, etc. There was also surprisingly going to be one question about privacy and the government, and when Jasmine brought it up Julia’s eyes flicked over to me before dropping quickly. Her normal confident demeanor was replaced by a mortal one, but I was sure she would do great. She was a natural.

  Once the interview began, it went smoothly, and Julia got comfortable quickly. Her charisma shone, even beyond what you would expect with such easy questions. She came across as relatable, likeable, and down to earth.

  When the privacy question finally came up, she took a deep breath, changed her facial expressions and tone to convey a more serious message, and made me proud. “I think I can relate to many people out there when I say that I was shocked by the information released from the Secretary of Intelligence’s journal. To not only have been lied to by the government officials that we trust to run our country, but also to lack the basic sense of privacy in our homes, on our computers, and on our phones is unacceptable. Northern Mississippians deserve to feel safe and secure in their homes, away from the prying eyes of the government.”

  Jasmine nodded. “So, it would be safe to say you believe in the authenticity of the journal, despite the United People’s Front’s claims of fraud, and you believe that government policy needs to change?”

  Julia nodded and gestured softly to emphasize certain points. “I do, and I will do what I can to make sure that it does change. In fact, I have already reached out to my father, the King, as well as leaders within the United People’s Front’s government, insisting on behalf of the people that these policies must end, and that we, the people of Northern Mississippi, will not sit back and allow our basic privacy rights to continue to be violated.”

  If I didn’t have a crush on her before, I definitely did after that. Rachel nudged me and showed me her social media feeds, which were already filling up with support. The discontent had been there before, but she had shone a light on the issues and gave the new movement a prominent voice against the propaganda. Her arguments weren’t inherently anti-Prism, but they would bring with them more doubt about the government’s honesty. Snowball effect.

  I was unaware that she had reached out to the UPF, though I knew she had spoken to the King on the topic now that she had agreed to work with me. There was no way that either would be happy with what she just said, and on live TV, unedited. The socialists were going to have themselves another headache.

  She walked over to us after the interview, beaming, and her handmaidens each gave her a hug. I congratulated her. “That was amazing! How come you didn’t tell me that you were talking with the UPF?”

  She looked around, avoiding eye contact. “We all have our surprises.” What is up with her? I nodded, but the handmaidens jumped in before I could respond, pulling her away. />
  During the drive back, the girls were in full flowing discussion on how social media was fawning over her and her performance. The message had begun to resonate among some of the people watching. It wasn’t much, but it was a promising start. Julia was quickly finding out how powerful her voice really was, and it shocked her. Shining a light on one important issue had led to attacks on the whole system already. The quiet and powerless third princess had taken a big step towards becoming a force to be reckoned with. Watch out.

  Chapter 31

  The calm lake shimmered in the moonlight that night. Julia had asked me to come with her, and we walked along the lake front. A cold front had moved in and it was nearly freezing. The trees had surrendered most of their leaves and each step ended in a satisfying crunch under our feet. Luckily, Julia had provided me with a new peacoat and gloves, so I wasn’t as cold as I would have been otherwise.

  She had said little up to this point. It was obvious she wanted to be away from anyone else, where there was no chance of being disrupted or eavesdropped on. She held one arm across her body, grasping her other arm shyly. She wore the ice-blue peacoat with the wrap neckline that she had worn when we first met, which felt like an eternity ago now. Two months have changed everything.

  I left the initiative with her. Part of me wanted to take the lead and say so many things, but this was her time to talk and mine to listen. A million thoughts were running through my head wondering what she would say, but I couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked casually strolling in the moonlight, her hair shining like a halo. So out of my league.

  We reached a wooden park bench and she gestured for me to sit next to her. We just sat for a moment, looking over the lake and the trees along the coast. It was dark, but the reflection of the full moon on the lake was a wonderful sight.