Poison

by Lan Chan

  Above the noise of the gas burner, I hear a helicopter propeller. Where could that chopper be going at eleven in the evening? A tickle of apprehension seizes me, and I pull Aiden’s jacket tighter. Choppers in the night are always a bad omen. I take a step back from the basket’s edge and collide with a hard shoulder. Aiden coughs as though to caution me that I’m invading his personal space.

  Acacia guides us to a bumpy but safe landing. The ground crew converge on us quickly on a lawn some distance away from our starting point.

  Aiden is the first one out of the basket, and the first thing he does is crouch down and pass his hand through the grass. I get the feeling if there was no one else around, he would kiss the ground. Then he tentatively holds out a hand to me, and I find I’m not recoiling. He helps me out of the basket, and as he does so, I turn and ask him something that’s been bugging me all night.

  “If Gideon is alive, what has he been doing all these years?” I try to make it not sound like an accusation, but as usual, tact doesn’t come naturally to me. When he doesn’t answer, I follow the line of his sight to the horizon, where the chopper’s lights are visible as tiny yellow specks. Suddenly, the chopper plummets and does some crazy turns. It reminds me of when the spotlights in the circus go haywire as they’re about to blow out. As I watch, a different spark ignites in the sky and heads on a collision course with the chopper. It’s not hard to guess what’s happening. The chopper has been bombed.

  Aiden takes off at a run as a frantic voice crackles through the dispatch unit on his belt. “All senior personnel to assembly point. All senior personnel…”

  Acacia abandons the balloon to the ground crew and goes after him.

  “You asked what Gideon does now,”’ Yuri says. He points his thumb towards the smoking wreckage of the chopper. “He’s part of the Wanderer resistance movement.”

  “What movement?” I ask. “How can there be a movement if nobody in the regions knows they still exist?”

  He throws me an incredulous look. “Don’t you know why your region was annexed? The Wanderers were using it as a supply store, and the tithe didn’t add up after harvest. It’s only because the Council thought the Connor man might lead them to the seed bank that the place wasn’t annihilated immediately.”

  Yuri’s revelation sinks in slowly as he escorts me back to the entrance of the dome. In the car ride back to the apartment, I ponder the mess I’ve gotten myself into, and as I lay my head down on the pillow, it occurs to me that even though Gideon might not be guilty of signing my mother’s death certificate, he has a lot to answer for when I get my hands on him.

  Thirty-One

  When I wake in the morning and turn the television on to watch the news, nothing appears to be working. Even the lights won’t turn on. I contact the hotel manager but am told the blockage is Citadel wide and happens on occasion to conserve electricity. More like everything is being shut down so any hysteria surrounding the chopper crash is minimised.

  I’m not sure if he expects me to believe that or if it’s just something he has to say regardless of how absurd it sounds. When I attempt to access the news again half an hour later, all that comes up on screen is my daily schedule, which consists of alternate days of work in the labs and being Tom’s companion and other days of circus training and a weekly outing with Harlan in the evening. I don’t see myself lasting more than a week at this rate.

  In the lab, which has power regardless of any shortages, Yuri shows me the analysis of the compounds that are prevalent in the Micah’s Rose lotion. I barely understand half of what he’s saying. Apparently, a compound in the plant attracts a unique bacterium that is most active in cells without oxygen, which is what the rotting sickness consists mainly of. Since my arrival, a synthetic compound has been created that failed to attract the same level of bacterium.

  “Won’t the medical specialists figure out sooner or later that the plant compound isn’t really a cure?” I ask Yuri.

  “Probably. However, there isn’t a large enough quantity at hand for any conclusive tests to be conducted until you produce this miracle plant. Have you given any thought to how you’ll proceed afterwards?”

  “I’m not handing over anything,” I say. “When Aiden takes me out of the Citadel, I’m going to destroy as much of the crop as I can and leave only enough for another small batch of serum and maybe some cuttings for replanting. That should give us at least until early summer to figure out our next move. As long as we can get it done before the Council plans the harvest expedition.”

  “Then the helicopter bombing was a blessing. The Council won’t even consider taking you outside until they’re sure it’ll be safe, but at least that means you have more time to consider your options.”

  When I’m done in the lab, I take the elevator up to Thomas Dempsey’s dank little room, where I’m treated to an hour of waiting while he sleeps. My tub of Micah’s Rose lotion is sitting on his bedside table, and when I unscrew the lid, I’m not surprised to see it’s empty.

  “Read to me,” he insists almost as soon as he wakes.

  That is the last thing I want to do. Reading to an ill person feels like something personal, something you would do for a loved one. I didn’t get the chance to read to Papa before he died; why would I want to read to a man I barely know, whom I’m pretty sure I despise?

  “What’s the matter?” he says. “Can’t you read?” There is bitter disappointment in his voice for no reason other than he’s clearly losing his mind. I pick a random book from his overflowing shelf and read until he falls asleep again, which doesn’t take long.

  The entire time, I hope for an excuse to call on Eli. There are so many things about him I want to know, but for all his frailty, Tom is demanding and takes up all my time.

  When I get home that night, the power in the nonessential quarter has been restored. There are reports running on every channel about the electrical malfunction in the helicopter, but that’s all they’re saying. Instead, Harlan’s punchable face is all over the television, recruiting for citizens to join him in rebuilding the new and improved Harlan’s Landing. Nothing is said of the reason the Landing is now empty.

  I spend the next day going through the circus routine for the upcoming social season shows. It’s the first time I’ve seen Dory since the exhibition, and I’m relieved to find she’s been treated well. There are many absences in our ranks because of the show the other night, not the least of which is Skylar, whom I overhear hasn’t been released from hospital. The other aerialists give me a wide berth, especially when the girl who performs the knife act drops one of her knives near me and I pick it up and launch it right in the middle of the bullseye. I dislike being boastful, but I know the way things work around here. The more afraid they are of me, the less likely they’ll accidentally-on-purpose drop me during a catch-and-release act.

  When I get back to The Palace, I can barely stand on my feet. Truthfully, I am more mentally exhausted from having to play nice with so many Seeders, but when my head hits the pillow, I can’t seem to fall asleep. When I close my eyes, it’s like my brain throws me back in time and I relive the moment Micah is taken from me, the second Leura is snatched by the piranha, the sound of the gunshot that kills Sully. I find myself at the window of my room, which doesn’t open because I’m up so high. I peer down at the ground the way I used to when I couldn’t sleep, hoping to see Sully slinking past on a night hunting expedition. Of course she’s not there. None of them are. I’ll never see any of them again.

  I crawl back into bed, and after an age, I fall into an uneasy sleep filled with the sounds of propellers and barking. The creak of a door hinge wakes me. Someone has entered my room. A lonely ray of moonlight peeks out from the bottom of the curtains, but it’s not enough to aid my sight, and my back is to the door. Whoever it is moves deathly quiet on their feet. I can’t get a read on where they are. There’s nothing in arm’s reach for me to use as a weapon except for a pillow. I’ve gotten really lax in keeping my sle
eping quarters secure, because, let’s face it, I’m already in the worst possible place. Only a few people would have card access to my room after I’ve locked down for the night. Gloria has always made her entrances known. If it were a guard, they wouldn’t need to use stealth.

  Please don’t let it be Harlan. My mind races with all the unpleasant possibilities so when the intruder lays a hand on my left shoulder, I snatch their wrist and roll with as much strength as I can muster. My sudden movement throws the intruder off balance and they stumble over me.

  This is a big mistake. I’m trapped under the weight of the man’s chest. I can tell he’s male by the stubble that grazes my elbow. I go to scream and am silenced by a hand over my mouth. I can’t breathe. My arms and legs thrash wildly. I bring my knee up and he blocks the hit with his elbow. The intruder leans in close so his breath warms my right ear.

  “There are easier ways to get me into bed,” Aiden says.

  I let out a growl of sheer frustration, and I’m thankful the darkness masks the flush in my cheeks.

  “Get the hell off me,” I say into his hand. It comes out as incoherent mumbling.

  “I’m not supposed to be here,” Aiden says. Tell me something I don’t know!

  I notice he hasn’t moved an inch. He smells like perfume. Where has he been?

  “I’m going to take my hand away, but don’t make a sound or we’re not going anywhere tonight.” He eases his hand away finger by finger, like he’s ready to snap it back at any time.

  “Get off me,” I whisper as soon as I can.

  “You grabbed me, remember?” he says, but he releases me and sits upright, though part of his thigh is still in contact with my foot.

  “I thought you were Harlan.” I swipe at my right ear, still feeling the heat of his breath on there for some reason.

  “Why would you think I was Harlan?” he says. He turns to me and now that my eyes have adjusted to the low light, I make out the stormy expression on his face. “Has he been in here before?”

  “No,” I say. “I was just being paranoid.” I get a sense of déjà vu, except it’s really a suppressed memory of a similar conversation we had not long before I left the Citadel for the last time. One of my more amorous and wealthy fans had paid off a guard to get access to my dressing room. It hadn’t been funny then when a thirteen-year-old, almost six-foot Aiden punched the man in the face, and it won’t be funny now if Aiden does it to Harlan. So why does my stomach do a little flip when I learn Aiden is irritated at the thought of Harlan being near me?

  “You’ve got one minute to get dressed. No lights. I’ll be outside.”

  “No!” I hiss. “You haven’t held up your end of the bargain. I’m not going anywhere with you!”

  He grabs hold of the sheets I’m sitting on and drags me forward so my legs fall over the side of the bed. “I’m on duty tonight. This is the safest time I can set this up. Like you haven’t got enough ammunition against us already. We’re going now!”

  He leaves me without another word. He has a point. I do have enough information against Aiden, Ace, and Yuri to have them arrested on the spot.

  By touch, I grudgingly pull on pants, a hooded jumper, and a pair of boots, and I’m certain I take a lot longer than a minute. Aiden doesn’t mention the time lapse, but he does spring up as soon as he sees me.

  Out in the living area, the drapes over the windows leading to the balcony are open, letting in silvery moonlight. There’s a small rucksack on the armchair. Aiden wastes no time with explanations. He snaps two metal cuffs on each of my wrists and presses a remote.

  “Take a look in the mirror,” Aiden says. “What do you see?” I do as he says and am confronted by a slight, middle-aged female guard staring back at me. The hologram is flawless, all the way down to the small detail of a dimple on the guard’s chin.

  “Ace’s work?” I ask.

  “None other,” he says. “The woman whose face you’re wearing is named Leonie Jackson. She’s got a husband and two kids and a really foul mouth. Just in case anything does happen.”

  Aiden heads back into my bedroom and I hear him press some more buttons. When I peer inside, he’s leaning over a figure of me sleeping on top of the cover. “Precaution in case anyone does come up here.” I can’t get over how remarkably lifelike the image is. Even when I touch an object, the phase of the hologram is subtle enough that someone would really have to be looking to notice something is off.

  “My brother used to make holograms,” I say absently. Then I shake myself because now is the wrong time to be getting weepy. “What’s next?”

  “Since the helicopter attack, the Council has started posting guards in the lobby as a precaution. We’re going to leave by the sky road and out the other building. Once we’re on the street, no talking unless absolutely necessary. The hologram isn’t worth a damn if your voice doesn’t match. The guards at the gates won’t give us any trouble as long as you’re with me.” He makes it sound so easy, but he doesn’t fool me. If we get caught, everything is over.

  He opens the smaller backpack and throws a belt at me. My utility belt. It’s fully stocked with a new set of throwing knives. “I have no idea how Skylar got it,” he says.

  “How did you get it from her?” I ask. “I don’t imagine she’d give it up easily.”

  “She was unconscious. I just took it.”

  Ruthless. I like it. I strap the belt to my waist and delight in the sense of confidence that washes over me. I’m slightly more whole again. Then he hands me a waterproof jacket and I put that on too.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  I nod even though I am nowhere near ready. He walks across the room, but when he’s about to open the door, he stops and turns to face me. “If anything goes wrong tonight, you run, understand?”

  I shake my head, but he clasps my shoulder and holds it firm. “I’m not kidding, Rory. If we’re attacked, if someone sees past the hologram, you run. Head into the forest and farther north. Hopefully the Wanderers will find you before the Council does.”

  “What about you?” I say.

  “I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you.” Frustration creeps into his voice because he knows he isn’t convincing me. “Stop being so damn stubborn for once and think about what’ll happen if you’re caught and interrogated.”

  “I wouldn’t talk,” I mumble under my breath as Aiden opens the door. That’s another thing everyone likes to think too. I have no illusions about how quickly I’d give up everything I know if I’m interrogated. But I’m banking on not getting caught, so it’s a moot point. My heart thunders in my ears, and I feel each step as though it were a drumbeat in my veins. Up ahead, Aiden walks with confident purpose. He’s always been much better at overcoming mental obstacles than me.

  A cloud of moisture hisses from the door of Harlan’s conservatory when we enter. This must have been the way Aiden took to get to me, because it’s the same smell that clings to his hair and clothing. We cross the conservatory and go through the door Harlan used. The door leads into a cold concrete flight of stairs, and Aiden doesn’t turn on any lights, opting to use the handrail as a guide.

  I want to ask what the rest of the building is used for but remember I’m not supposed to say anything unless I’m spoken to. We come out into an alleyway behind a series of skyscrapers where a car is waiting for us. It looks like many of the cruisers used by the Citadel guard.

  “So far, so good,” Aiden says once we’re in the car and backing out of the alleyway. I let myself breathe for the duration of the trip. It’s odd to be sitting in the front passenger seat and even weirder that it’s Aiden driving.

  “I hope you’ve gotten a lot better at this,” I say. The last time we were in a vehicle, it was a tractor and he ran into the mansion’s barn.

  “New rule,” Aiden says. “No being a smartass.” I may as well just stop talking, then.

  Ten minutes later, car crash avoided, he parks the cruiser in the guard’s lot. Aiden leans over t
o my side, opens the glove box, and takes out a handgun. He slips the gun into the holster at his side and attaches an earpiece to his left ear.

  “Ready?” Without waiting for an answer, he opens the driver door and slips out.

  My hands ache from digging into the leather of my seat, and it takes me a couple tries to release the seat belt. I hear Aiden open the boot, and when I finally get out of the car, my feet involuntarily inch away from him. He’s put his cloak on, and in the darkness I can’t see his face. He’s just a Seeder wraith come to drag me away. Then he turns his head and the streetlight illuminates his black eyes, full of concern. I swallow the knot of fear in my throat and indicate for him to lead the way.

  Thankfully there’s no reason for us to have to enter the barracks. Through the front window, I can see the three-story building is crawling with guards. Several guards call out to Aiden, and he gives them a polite nod of acknowledgement. We approach the iron gate and come under the scrutiny of the security light beams. Aiden takes down the hood, and the gate guard must recognise him because the gate begins to open.

  I cross my fingers and toes as we walk through without a hitch. But then, just before we manage to slip under the cover of darkness, a voice calls out from the watchtower. It’s a voice that I’ve come to dread. Vargas.

  “Hang on,” he says. Moments later, he descends the watchtower’s steps and walks directly towards us.

  Thirty-Two

  My insides turn to slush, and I dare not look at Aiden in case it gives us away. Sweat glides down my back from the heat of the lights, and fear coils around me. I grasp for the few details Aiden gave me of the woman I’m meant to be. Right now I can’t even remember her name!