The Eve Illusion

by Giovanna Fletcher

  ‘Are they always here like this?’ I ask.

  ‘No. They’re here because you’re not in there,’ replies Saunders, holding my gaze. ‘There have always been pockets of hope, hidden among the chaos. You getting out – it’s brought them out of the darkness.’

  I turn back to the crowd and see more boats steering from the shadows. Arms reaching out, ready to join those already gathered.

  ‘Oh, shit.’ Chubs groans.

  I follow his eyes up to the screens I’d been insistent on seeing. My heart drops into my gut as the words ‘Traitors of Eve’ flash before us in bold red writing, with four pictures of their chosen ‘rebels’ displayed below. Bram’s body stiffens next to mine as his image is shown next to one of Mother Kadi. The third picture is of a boy who must be around my age. Floppy dark brown hair falls around his face. In a split second I recognize him. He was with Bram the day we first met. Clearly meeting Bram had stopped me giving him much thought until now, but that’s definitely him.

  The remaining man is older. His familiar eyes, so much like my own, reveal exactly who he is.

  Dad.

  The three images of those we know are still in the Tower fade, making way for the picture of Bram to expand across the screen. More words flash up. He’s a fugitive on the run. Wanted for capturing me against my will. It’s the story they’re sticking with, their chosen narrative.

  ‘Best make some room under that blanket, Eve,’ says Chubs, gravely, nodding towards Bram, who sits a little closer, his head dipped, sorrow, pain and guilt dripping from his fallen face.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

  He shakes his head, and I long to drape my arms around him and hold him close.

  ‘We should go back to the Deep,’ I say to Saunders.

  His eyes flit between Bram and me before he acts on my request. His hands fumble as he starts the boat again. He can’t get out of there quickly enough. The mood is sombre as we retreat.

  ‘Your friend,’ I say to Bram, once the noise around us has died down and we’re far enough away from the mayhem.

  ‘Hartman.’ He nods, rubbing his eyes.

  ‘My last Holly.’ I think back to the companion I didn’t know who appeared before me in my room, giving me the final nudge to shatter their illusion.

  ‘My best mate.’ Bram nods again. ‘I shared everything with him.’

  ‘You had a tight bond?’

  ‘The tightest.’

  ‘I saw him,’ I say, remembering. ‘Before I left. He was … in pain. But he did all he could to get me out safely.’

  ‘That sounds like him.’ Bram sighs into his hands, his head turning away from me.

  ‘He didn’t just do that for me. He did it for you.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘It was your plan.’

  He nods.

  ‘And do you really want your best friend, the guy who’d do anything for you, to suffer the consequences of your plan while we go off gallivanting into a new life?’ I ask. ‘Would you really be able to live with yourself if you didn’t at least try to help him in return?’

  I see my words working, just as I’d known they would.

  The world out here isn’t what I thought it would be – but what else could it be when so much has been stripped from its inhabitants? My birth was the symbol of hope they’d been looking for. Only I was taken from them. Claimed and paraded. Separated. Despite that, some found a way to show their support. These traitors, as the EPO have called them, these people who helped me escape and who show their love even though I appear to have deserted them, they’re not traitors at all. They’re truly loyal, and they’re worth fighting for.

  ‘What would you do if your dad was up there?’ I ask, giving Bram one final nudge to fully understanding and supporting my decision.

  ‘He is.’ He laughs drily. ‘And this whole thing has his name written all over it.’ He sighs. ‘I’m not going to stop you, am I?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You know you’ll start a war. It’ll be them against the people. Are you prepared for that?’

  ‘The war began decades ago. The difference is that now we know we’re in one.’

  13

  Michael

  The Med Level stinks of disinfectant. It stings my nose as I exit the lift but I’m used to the sensation now. I walk the only route I was permitted to take while on detention. Visiting time with family or friends who have potentially life-threatening injuries is one of the few things that’ll get you out of your dorm and I took full advantage of that.

  Not that I didn’t want to see my brother anyway.

  I pass hundreds of empty cubicles, their only occupants the state-of-the-art medical equipment hanging unused and lifeless on the walls. Stuff exists in here that doctors in the outside world could only ever dream of.

  That’s the thing about disasters – war, disease, the climate shift: they bring about the fastest acceleration in technological developments. You’ve just got to survive long enough to benefit from it. Facing extinction is no exception. And living in the same building as the most precious human of our species gives us access to the very best medical equipment in history.

  Handy when you get the sniffles.

  Although the best tech couldn’t do anything for most of Ketch’s team, who were caught in that blast. There wasn’t anything left to save. Ketch got off lightly in comparison.

  As I turn the corner I’m greeted with a warm orange glow. I hear voices, which means the doctors are with him.

  ‘You’re healing well,’ Dr Chaudhury notes.

  ‘Not well enough,’ Ketch grunts, with a slight rattle in his raspy voice.

  ‘Your injuries were severe. You’re lucky to be alive, Commander Turner.’

  ‘It’s not Commander any more,’ my brother snaps.

  ‘It’s not Turner either, right, Ketch?’ I make my presence known.

  ‘The medical team have been wondering about this mysterious nickname you go by. If you don’t mind me asking, why Ketch?’ the doctor asks.

  Before my brother can answer, I reach into my pockets and pull out the stash of contraband I’ve smuggled in for him and drop the dozen red sachets on to the bed.

  ‘Ketchup?’ The doctor laughs. ‘I’m not sure your nutritionist will approve.’

  ‘Laugh all you want. It’s my guilty pleasure.’ Ketch shrugs.

  ‘Eve wasn’t allowed to know his real name, as a security measure, so Ketch was born,’ I announce, in my best mock-regal voice. I bow my head as my brother tears the corner of a sachet with his teeth and squeezes the contents into his blistered mouth, gulping it down like he’s not eaten in years. So gross.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry to say that your brother should go easy on the sugar intake. His number-one priority needs to be his recovery, Mr Turner.’

  ‘He’s Commander Turner now.’ Ketch sulks.

  I give the doctor a look. I’ll talk to him.

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you both to it. Don’t stay too long, though. Your brother needs rest, not ketchup.’ Dr Chaudhury shakes his head with a smile, as he leaves the cubicle.

  Ketch lies back slowly on the bed, groaning in pain as his burns connect with the bedding.

  ‘Healing well? Sounds promising,’ I say, trying not to stare too hard at the blistered flesh around the dressing that covers his left eye.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, “full recovery”, whatever. Doesn’t make any difference.’ He sighs. ‘Silva wants me off the Final Guard for good.’

  His shoulders sink. I can see how much this is hurting him.

  ‘I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.’ The words sound sincere but there’s an awkward silence between us as I sit on the end of his bed. I’m suddenly very aware of my uniform. The subtle letters FG embroidered in gold on my black jumpsuit now feel so glaringly obvious they’re practically screaming, ‘LOOK AT ME, KETCH!’

  ‘I hear you were promoted.’ He breaks the silence.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Congratulati
ons. Mum would have been proud of you.’

  We both know that’s a lie. ‘No, she would have been proud of you. Always you, and you know it. I’d still be living down in the flood if you hadn’t got me this gig,’ I reply. I feel his uncovered eye staring at me. ‘Don’t look at me like that. It’s creepy.’

  ‘You’re worried.’ He reads from my face.

  ‘No shit! I just watched their new private soldiers drag the last commander away after failing to meet Miss Silva’s expectations,’ I explain.

  ‘Yes, I heard.’

  ‘Well, I’ve already got a target on my back. Silva thinks I’m an idiot. I don’t know why she gave the position to me.’ Now that I’m venting, it all just spews out. ‘Actually, I do. Of course I do. You. You’re the only reason I’m still here. The untouchable Ketch. Exceeding bloody expectations your whole life. You know how annoying that was growing up?’

  ‘Would you have preferred me to let them put you in the cells with the traitors? Because that was on the cards for you,’ he says, keeping his cool.

  ‘Course not,’ I snap, sounding like a spoiled child. I hate myself.

  ‘Well, then, you have some serious work ahead of you so it’s time to stop acting like you did when you were ten years old and get the job done. You know how hard I had to fight to get you on the team.’

  ‘I know.’ And I do. He pulled some serious strings to get me through the door for the assessment. Of course he’d prepped me on what to do, how to stand, how to impress Miss Silva.

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s just been a stressful return from suspension,’ I say truthfully. ‘It’s not every day the worst-case scenario comes true.’

  ‘What’s the latest? Any news on Eve’s location?’ he asks.

  ‘Sorry, that’s classified,’ I say.

  He kicks me and I fall off the bed on to the sterile floor. ‘Okay, okay! It was a joke!’ I say, as I sit back on the bed and sigh. ‘We still don’t know where she is. Miss Silva thinks we can extract information on her location from the traitors.’

  ‘Extract information? Sounds painful,’ my brother says. ‘But Eve wasn’t kidnapped by one person and if people know things, people will say things. If you push the right buttons, of course.’

  I don’t say anything.

  ‘Sometimes doing the right thing means doing the wrong thing,’ Ketch says, sensing my concern about how we will be acquiring this information.

  ‘It’s not just that. It’s …’ I pause and double-check we’re alone. ‘This wasn’t a kidnapping.’

  Ketch stares at me. ‘Careful. We won’t be alone for long,’ he warns, using his good eye to indicate the open cubicle door.

  I get up, check the corridor is clear and press my palm on the glass panel. The door closes. Privacy.

  ‘I’ve seen footage from the drones,’ Ketch says.

  ‘Then you’ve seen them jump, her and Bram, together. It didn’t look like she needed much persuading to leave, from where I was standing.’

  I see Ketch’s brain working as he thinks about it for a moment.

  ‘She’s been here so long, it’s only natural that she’d want to know what’s out there once the truth was revealed to her.’

  I nod, hesitate.

  ‘What is it?’ he asks.

  ‘Ketch, we’re brothers and I trust you with my life,’ I say.

  ‘Mikey, calm down. What’s up?’

  ‘You’ve worked for the EPO longer than anyone. How did you know that your loyalty was in the right place?’ I ask.

  ‘My loyalty to the EPO?’ he repeats, seeming almost amused.

  I nod.

  ‘My loyalty was never with the EPO, and it never will be. My loyalty is to Eve. That’s where everyone’s loyalty should be.’

  ‘What about Miss Silva? She’s a loose cannon!’

  ‘It’s not Vivian you should be concerned about. It’s Wells.’

  ‘Dr Wells? Really?’ I ask.

  Ketch adjusts himself in his bed to lean a little closer. ‘Vivian was never like this when I started,’ he says quickly and quietly, as though someone could walk in at any moment. ‘She was kind and compassionate. She changed when he came here.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Times were different then. The EPO played a different role in all this. It was about Eve, that was all, protecting her, giving her and us the best chance at a future,’ he whispers.

  ‘And it’s not any more?’ I ask.

  He doesn’t reply. Then he says, ‘You want my advice?’

  I shrug.

  ‘Listen to your gut and do what’s right for Eve. Forget everything else.’

  ‘What about you? What will you do next? Once you recover?’ I ask, getting back to my feet.

  ‘Don’t you worry about me. I’ve got things lined up,’ Ketch says, with a nonchalance I instantly see through.

  ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘It’s nothing, and if you know what’s good for you you’ll leave it there.’

  ‘Oh, c’mon, I’m your brother!’

  ‘Let’s just say with every door that closes, another one opens and –’ He stops himself.

  ‘And what?’

  He sighs, frustrated with himself for saying too much. ‘And I didn’t even know this door was there.’

  I blink slowly. ‘O-kay … I’m not sure what that means,’ I say. ‘Seriously, what’s the new job?’

  Ketch just stares at me.

  ‘It’s like that, is it?’ I ask. My own brother. Keeping secrets. This has got to be big.

  He just nods.

  ‘What the hell are you up to?’

  ‘Look, it’s a dull job but he needed someone he could trust, someone who’d been here for ever and understood how things work,’ Ketch says, trying to sound casual, like I’m going to let this slide.

  ‘He?’ I say.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘You said he needed someone. Who’s he?’

  My brother suddenly lunges forward, grabs the collar of my jumpsuit and pulls my head down until I’m face-to-face with him.

  ‘Listen, Michael, this isn’t a game. This shit is real and it’s messed up but we’re in too deep now. Okay? I wish I’d never brought you into the EPO, into this damn place. Sometimes I think we’d have been better wasting away down in the flood instead of being part of all this.’

  I push him away and free myself. He winces at my touch.

  ‘Just don’t ask any more questions, okay, Mikey? I can’t lie to you, you know that, and you’re better off not knowing this.’

  I look him in the eye and try to find my brother in it, the brother I grew up with. He’s there somewhere, hidden beneath the burns, bandages and secrets.

  ‘All right,’ I reply. ‘Just don’t get yourself wrapped up in anything stupid.’

  He laughs, and the laughter turns into racking coughs.

  I dim the lights as I leave the room. He needs some rest.

  As I walk back towards the lift the echoes of approaching footsteps find their way to my ears. Instinct makes me study them. It’s what I’m trained to do.

  Boots. Heavy duty. Military issue.

  Two … no, three men.

  As they get closer their noise paints a clearer picture.

  Only two wear boots. The third is wearing something lighter with rubber soles.

  The regular click on every other step indicates a weapon on his belt connecting with the metal zip of his cargo trousers.

  They’re armed.

  I slip inside one of the unoccupied cubicles on the Med Level, only a hundred yards from Ketch’s room.

  I have no reason to hide, but something is telling me I’m better not being seen.

  Listen to your gut …

  Ketch’s words bounce around in my brain.

  Silhouettes appear on the frosted-glass walls of the cubicle as the men turn into the corridor. Their footsteps are loud but they aren’t talking.

  I silently find a spot in the darkest part of the rear wall, hidden in the sha
dows.

  Suddenly a figure walks past, dressed all in black, armed with multiple weapons. He’s quickly followed by the mysterious light-footed man, and another armed soldier brings up the rear.

  I might have guessed it would be Wells and his new henchmen, the bastards that dragged Ryan away.

  A few moments later I hear them stop. I head to the door and peer into the corridor where I see the three men disappear inside my brother’s cubicle.

  So, that’s the he Ketch was talking about. Oh, brother, what have you got yourself into?

  14

  Eve

  All eyes are on me as I stand in the chamber from the previous night with Helena, Bram and the team from earlier by my side. The last time I was in here it was full of excitement as they celebrated my arrival. This time they’re more controlled with their emotions. They stand tall, eager and alert. They’re completely silent as they wait for me to speak.

  I haven’t been caught off guard. I called this meeting. I asked for everyone to be gathered so that I could share my plan, yet I’m surprised by the weight of expectation I feel while they’re standing before me. People aren’t whispering to each other. I have their full attention. It’s always been like this, of course. Back in the Tower, rooms and corridors would fall silent whenever I entered. The guards were forbidden to look at me – but I was just a tool then. I was just an object to worship, rather than a person to understand. I wasn’t given a voice. They were just following Vivian’s orders.

  Standing here, in this vast room, I feel more like Vivian than myself. As though some part of me is channelling her confidence and authority rather than relying on my own.

  ‘Thank you, all, for everything you’ve done so far and for the support you’ve given,’ I say, with only the slightest tremor in my voice. ‘It’s been an interesting twenty-four hours, and I know it’s going to take longer than that for all of this to sink in. It’s hard to believe I knew nothing of your existence only a day ago, yet you’ve been fighting for me relentlessly – even before I was born. I cannot thank you enough.

  ‘There’s one thing for which I’ll be eternally grateful, that you found my father. From my understanding, it wasn’t easy to do so but you did. I’ve spent hours on the Drop thinking about what he and my mother must’ve been like. Thanks to you I’m a little closer to feeling what it is to have a real family.’