Splintering Reality (Breaking Order Series Book 2)

by Catherine Kopf

  “We’ve freed this city of all of its Dreamers. Now what?” Ivory tilted her head.

  “I’m not sure. This hasn’t happened before,” I said.

  “Writing things on walls, freeing cities… this is what our resistance needs.” Enya smiled.

  “You’re the ones charged with vandalism?” Dustin asked.

  “We painted Dare to Dream,” I explained.

  “It’s a song my brother wrote. He wants to negotiate with The Regime and find a way to stop fighting.” Enya folded her arms.

  “Like negotiation will ever happen,” Dustin agreed.

  Enya said, “You’re only saying that to gain my trust before stabbing me in the back.”

  After gathering everyone together, we gave The Dreamers Enya’s map, the location of our group highlighted on the paper. Dreamers we freed started boarding the train. If everyone made it, our numbers would skyrocket to over three hundred.

  We were really starting to form a group.

  “Can I come with you?” Dustin begged.

  Enya raised an eyebrow. “Can you please say no?”

  “I’ve been to all the cities before. I know how to fight, and I’m a great actor,” Dustin argued.

  Enya crossed her arms. “And this isn’t an act?”

  “Got a problem with me offering help?” Dustin narrowed his hazel eyes.

  “You can come,” I said.

  Dustin smiled. “Thanks, Señorita.”

  Enya let out a heavy sigh. “Some leader you are! What if he’s trying to trick us?”

  “Can you keep an eye on him?” I asked.

  Enya nodded. “If he does anything traitorous, I’ll shoot him.”

  After deciding to find a place to stay for the night, Enya pointed to the back wall, obviously wanting to paint again. Thankfully, Ju-long had brought paints with him.

  “What do we write?" my face lit up with excitement.

  “How about Dare to Fight?” Dustin gestured to the back wall like showcasing a class project.

  Enya snorted. “That’s not a bad idea, for a government loser.”

  “This government loser still has some tricks up his sleeves,” Dustin smirked.

  Each of us grabbed a brush and got to work, uncaring of what The Regime thought. Coating the back wall wasn’t just a symbol of our dreams. It symbolized rebellion lurking around the corner. After painting, we settled into a mansion and went straight to sleep, unaware of the dangers lurking around us.

  TWENTY

  Ambert

  “Dear Firebird,

  I once visited the industrialized city of Weisheit. Lovely place, though filled with many secrets, lives, dreams, and technological advances. At an underground market, I implanted my own source code to access a room. The particular code is a password few can understand: AGECDB. If you ever go to Weisheit, I’m hoping you’ll figure it out.

  Love,

  Mom”

  After flipping through so many pages, I found one with an entry on Weisheit. Yet, for some reason, this one didn’t make sense. If my mother used a source code, it confirmed she had a history in electronics and computer work like me. Was that why she entrusted the diary to me? Did she know we’d be similar? If so, how?

  “Looking at that tattered thing again?” Becky drew her lower lip between her teeth.

  I looked up from the journal. “It passes the time on the train.”

  Becky snickered. “Bummer. Zeke and I have been looking out the window. It’s a lovely sight.”

  “What about Wes and Kuan?” I shut the journal and returned it to my backpack.

  “They just let you be. Kuan-yin just fancies that… blade of hers.”

  “Hey, I think we’re about there!” Wes’ eyes flickered.

  “What? Now I’ve gotta see!” Kuan-yin placed her katana in its hilt and looked out the train car window.

  Industrial buildings towered above us. Neon lights lit the darkened areas, giving the place a cybernetic vibe like The Information Department I worked in.

  So, this is The City of Innovation. I can see where they got their name…

  We passed a digital marquee, detailing basic Regime laws. Beside it was a screen displaying The Regime’s Most Wanted List. Most appeared like typical mugshots — scar-faced, big muscled criminals wanted for murder in some other city. In the center of them, was a boy — aged seventeen, with wavy chestnut hair, freckles, and a single scar on his neck from where his father struck him.

  I had to look at his face every time I gazed in a mirror. Surrounded by all the crooks, was a photo of me. My eyes darted to the caption below the photo:

  “#1 WANTED BY THE COMMANDER:

  AMBERT GREER.

  CRIMES OF DREAMING, CONSPIRACY, KIDNAPPING, TREASON.”

  I earned that title the day I rescued Enya.

  “What do you think, Ambert?” Becky gripped onto my shoulder.

  I was caught off guard. “Huh?”

  “Want to grab a bite to eat before finding Calista?” Zeke’s smile beamed.

  “That’s too out in the open.” I gazed outside the train again, catching another glance of my photo on the digital Most Wanted List.

  Becky giggled and said, “Well, obviously, but wasting rations isn’t a good idea either.”

  “Ambert’s right though. It’s better to eat our rations with The Regime’s eye at every corner. I’ve spotted at least five cameras on the way in. And look outside! He’s on The Most Wanted List!” Wes explained.

  I nodded. “That’s my point.”

  “Fine, we’ll have it your way then.” Becky smoothed out a portion of her sangria dress. “But you’re not going out like that — you’ll be recognized in seconds.”

  Becky ruffled my hair and reached into her bag. Taking a liquid foundation, she spread it on my face and neck to hide my freckles. Her blonde curls whipped around her head as she pulled out a pair of black sunglasses.

  “These will cover your eyes nicely.” she brushed a hair out of her face. “Now you and Zeke just have to switch clothes.”

  Zeke’s face flustered. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s only logical, darling. He won’t have the same clothes as the picture if he has yours.” Becky inspected her fingernails.

  I grabbed Mother’s flash-key and set it into Zeke’s lab coat pocket. His sleeves dangled off my arms, but rolling them up helped the lab coat stay in place. My work uniform’s black and red coloring made Zeke fit in with any other blue-collar citizen.

  He adjusted the collar — the polo clutching onto his skin. “You’re lucky we’re about the same size.”

  “It’s a precaution. The more attention we draw to ourselves, the harder it’ll be finding Cal.” I slipped on the sunglasses.

  “Food’s gonna be great right about now!” Kuan-yin licked her lips.

  I laughed. “We’ll find somewhere we can eat.”

  The train jolted to a stop, an echo from the station’s computer stating “Weisheit: Station 2.”

  “Guess this is our stop, Dreamers.” Wes drummed his fingers on the wall of the train car.

  Wes, Zeke, and I slid the heavy door open so we could escape the train car.

  I stepped outside and released a breath of air. “Let’s go find Cal.”

  Weisheit’s streets bustled with mid-afternoon traffic. Every corner, a robotic machine or AI unit shouted orders in a stall or stood with their puppeteers. For a city under The Regime’s control, Weisheit gave a futuristic vibe.

  Zeke’s face lit up. “Get a load of this place!”

  “Now this is a big city!” Becky spread her arms wide.

  A hover car roomed beside me. Honking, another one flew past. As I turned my head, the skyscrapers’ glass panels mirrored my reflection looking at the city like a kid entering a toy store.

  “Hey!” Wes placed his hand on my shoulder. “Where are we going?”

  I rolled up the cuff of Zeke’s lab coat, adjusting
my disguise. “I’ve never been here before. Zeke?”

  “We’ll go to Worrly’s AI Parts and Components. They have a basement where we can hide out. At least for a while.” Zeke raised his chin and headed to the front of the group.

  “Let’s get going.” Kuan-yin pulled me along the streets by the arm.

  Through the crowded streets of Weisheit, my eyes scanned for a redhead girl. Cal had to be somewhere in this city, and I wouldn’t give up until we succeeded. If we found Dreamers in the city, they were sure to know something, but with so many cameras, the chances of finding any were scarce.

  The straight-lined formations of Regime soldiers stomped through the central courtyard of the city. Walking in sync, every soldier remained in line — conformed, brainwashed, a piece of the corruption. At one point, I was picked to be one of them — a strategist for The Regime — but refused.

  An AI stopped the soldiers, getting in the way of their march. Pulling out a gun, the front general shot the AI, sending it sizzling to the ground like a Dreamer on death row. The haunting thought would never let me go — the thought of me killing Dreamers like Cal.

  Afraid of drawing attention to myself, I turned my face away from the line. I never thought I’d have a criminal record by the time I was eighteen. Maybe Regime recognition or a life confined to the sidelines, but not this. I sighed and placed my hands into the lab coat’s pockets. Keeping low was my best chance at finding my sisters.

  We passed more skyscrapers, each uniform like The Regime’s laws wanted. The neon lights lit more and more as the sun traveled across the sky. Shades of blue and red popped against the black backgrounds — giving the shadows more depth and dimension. Memories of that night in The Science Department flashed in my head.

  “We’re here!” Zeke shouted.

  The building in front of us was small compared to the skyscrapers, but no less industrial. It was a carbon copy of every other store or home we passed in Weisheit — metal and futuristic.

  “So… we’re going into the basement of this thing?” Wes asked.

  Zeke nodded. “It was a Dreamer marketplace before I left for medical school. Should still be here if I’m not mistaken.”

  I scanned the exterior from top to bottom. “What does this place sell anyway?”

  “Chips for Regime cyborg and AI projects. Sure, the designs haven’t changed from 2200, but when one shorts it needs to be replaced.” Zeke waved his hand at the sign. “Still, the basement does a Dreamer market, you know, rare stuff.”

  Wes’ face beamed. “Getting new brushes should be a breeze.”

  “They have more than that.” Becky fiddled with her earrings. “Who knows what else they’ll have.”

  The source code. That was certain.

  “Maybe chains, sprockets, motors… let’s go!” Kuan-yin rushed to the door when she bumped into a Regime soldier.

  “Watch where you’re going,” he groaned.

  “I’m really sorry about that.” Kuan-yin bowed her head. “But you should be saying that to yourself.”

  The soldier glared at Kuan-yin’s katana. “You permitted to carry that weapon?”

  Kuan-yin nodded. “My father gave this to me.”

  “Unusual choice… I’d say you’re a Dreamer.” the soldier grabbed Kuan-yin’s arm.

  “Hey! Leave her alone!” Wes shouted.

  I pulled Wes back. “He can’t know we’re here. It’ll trigger a citywide search.”

  “Allow me, boys.” Becky smiled and sauntered toward the soldier. “Won’t you leave her alone, sir? This was a gift from her father after all…”

  The soldier hesitated. “But she’s breaking The Regime’s law.”

  “She’s just a cute, adorable, little girl. What harm can she do? Hmm…” Becky whispered in his ear.

  How did I even hear that? Kuan-yin didn’t even budge after being called cute!

  “But…” he started.

  She leaned against him and placed her finger against his lip. “Shhh…”

  “Alright, doll. I’ll let you folks through,” the soldier said.

  Becky blew a kiss at him. “I’ll remember this.”

  “How did you do that, ‘doll’?” Wes mocked.

  “Becky’s a girl with secrets, but you should be thanking her!” Zeke gave a dismissive wave with his hand.

  Becky swayed and faltered to the side. In an instant, I caught her and she laid her head against my body. Her fingers were like ice, trembling like Enya did when she overused magic. Something was up. Something sinister.

  I helped her up and passed her hand to Zeke’s. More neon lights emanated from her black bag, split open from the scuffle. She gazed into Zeke’s eyes a moment before a smirk glossed over her dainty face. Taking his hand, the two of them headed to the side of the store.

  “We’re entering the side?” Kuan-yin raised an eyebrow.

  “If you don’t want to get caught again, then yes. We have to go through this way. Just stick to your math homework.” Becky seemed annoyed with Kuan-yin. So angry. More than normal.

  Tears welled in Kuan-yin’s widened eyes. She took a step back from Becky as the blonde headed towards the entrance of the marketplace; her heels clicked as Kuan-yin’s posture sunk.

  I placed my hand on Kuan-yin’s shoulder and clenched my other fist. “It’s okay, Kuan. Let’s get inside.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Ambert

  The basement of Worrly’s AI Parts and Components was nothing like the exterior. Colors and fabrics lined the rugged, stone walls. We were underground, in a Dreamer area like Safe Haven — only, this place didn’t look so safe.

  Shifty eyes glued onto me as I passed various Dreamers. Some were barefoot; others wore tattered Regime-approved clothing. Squinting in the dim lights, I slipped the sunglasses away from my face.

  “Guess these people aren’t used to new faces.” Kuan-yin massaged the back of her neck.

  I tightened my grip on my mother’s journal, wary of the surrounding people.

  “I recognize that stitching…” an elderly man’s eyes bulged. “I sold that journal to a young girl so long ago.”

  “My mother never said where she got it, but—” I started.

  “Well now! You do have Harmony’s eyes, don’t you!” the elderly man cackled.

  An older woman beside him squinted her eyes. “I reckon he has that same stare — the kind, yet determined and cunning one.”

  “… I missed Harmony’s glare.” the elderly man gazed heavenward.

  Whispers filled the market at the mention of my mother’s name. Some of them talked about how much they missed her, others on how strange she was. I just questioned how I heard them so clearly.

  “You folks come from The Blaze?” the elderly man nudged Wes’ shoulder.

  He scratched his head. “What’s the—”

  The Blaze was something new — a new Dreamer term. If there was another resistance outside of ours, joining forces would be catastrophic for The Regime. I turned to ask the man questions before shopping Dreamers pushed me forward.

  The surrounding booths held various objects, all for trade and market. Some vendors carried items filled with Wes’ favorite painting supplies. Others filled their stalls with technology and weapons. Musical instruments stocked other marketplace shelves as well.

  An item from one of the stands caught my eye. The instrument was small, about the length from my hand to halfway between my elbow and shoulder, and strings were positioned and strung across the front of its body. The stick that came with it matched in design.

  “What’s this?” I picked up the instrument. In my hands, splinters in the wood revealed it’s older age.

  The stand keeper sprung from his chair. “A violin. Beautiful instrument. An emotional one too.”

  “How does it sound?” I rubbed my fingers along the strings.

  He placed a hand on his chin and sighed before answering, “It varies user to user.
The instrument itself is mellow, yet dark; soft yet powerful. Depending on the feelings and the playing style it’s the perfect instrument for a sound wielder.”

  “I’m just a musician, sir. Magic’s my sister’s thing.” I smiled.

  “Strange. I only mentioned sound because Harmony had powers over it. She broke and cracked glass, created frequencies, and could play anything she picked up,” the stand keeper explained.

  I scanned the violin for a price tag. “How much do I need to give you for this?”

  “Take it. Your mother would want you to have it.” the corners of his mouth weaved upward.

  “Really?" my smile beamed. “Awesome—”

  “Just glad you like it, that’s all. Instruments like this haven’t been used in a while.”

  “How do you play?”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Okay… but at least demonstrate something.”

  The stand keeper grabbed another violin off the shelf beside him.

  He placed the stick, or a bow as he called it, across the violin and held the bottom fatter piece below his chin and on his shoulder. His free hand placed its fingers on the strings of the violin. As he played each note — A, B, C, D, E, F, G — his thin fingers took different positions. Every note had a different quality. I tried imitating him; a screech chimed back.

  “No! No! Position your hand upward a bit!” the stand keeper adjusted my hand position.

  I maneuvered where he said and finally produced an “A”. I played up and down a scale for the stand keeper.

  He smiled and handed me a carrying case for the violin. “Better than your mother.”

  I took the case from him and set it beside me. “Did you know her?”

  “She even entrusted me with a secret room,” he gestured to the wall behind him.

  Of course! AGECDB wasn’t a code. It was a list of music notes. I played A, then G, followed by E, C, D, and B. The basement marketplace shook, and the brick wall shifted and tore apart.