by Eliza Green
‘Everyone, mind your own business,’ she yelled to the room, then rounded on Dom. ‘And I don’t need you to fight my battles, okay?’
Dom looked hurt. ‘Sorry. I was only trying to help...’
‘Yeah? Well, you only made things worse.’ Anya strode away, calling over her shoulder, ‘Thanks for turning me into the local gossip.’
12
Carissa
Carissa stretched in her bed, a piece of green canopy covering layers of soft bedding. She looked around the female dorm to find it empty. Her bed last night had started out next to one of the soldiers on the floor, but that morning it had been moved to a new location near the bathroom.
She shoved her blanket aside, annoyed at being singled out by the other females. Sitting up, she touched the round, metal disc on the side of her head, the one that connected to her NMC, the one she had used in the city to upload and download information. The one she’d used the day before to pick up a familiar voice.
The usual silent echo filled her head, a white noise that sounded like emptiness and rejection. Hearing Quintus and the chatter from the rebels’ communications, if only for a few seconds, had filled the empty space and given her a sense of peace. But the experience had passed and taken her peace with it.
Last night’s celebration dinner had been a weird event. Warren and Anya’s fight had topped the discussion in the female dorm after. Some women had branded Anya a drama queen. Probably unfair. Without her memories, Anya’s disconnect from reality must be similar to how Carissa felt without her connection. One of the women had remarked that Anya had lost her memories, but it hadn’t mattered to those ready to side with Warren.
‘He was only trying to talk to her,’ one had said.
Another female nodded. ‘Max said she doesn’t remember the last three months, which sounds farfetched if you ask me. I think she’s putting on an act, looking for attention. Dom should just forget about her.’
‘Yeah, what’s their deal anyway? Are they a couple?’ said a third, who sounded like an interested party.
‘Dunno,’ said the first. ‘I heard Dom had two girlfriends back in Halforth. Kaylie’s on her way here with her team.’
The second female laughed. ‘You’d better hurry and get your hooks into Dom before she does. Kaylie’s a beauty like Sheila.’
Carissa had pretended to be asleep during their chat. When the room fell silent, she knew Anya had arrived. She opened her eyes to see Sheila with her. The new amnesiac had looked around the space, her eyes flitting from one gossiping woman to the next, before she sat down on her bed.
Sheila had hissed, ‘What are you all looking at?’
One responded in a whisper to another, ‘I think you’re right about Anya. Just looking for attention.’
Carissa had turned her back to the group, thinking about what she’d seen on the screens showing Arcis. While she hadn’t seen what Warren had done to Anya—there’d been no cameras in the bathroom—she’d witnessed the reaction to the event afterwards. A traumatised Anya had tried to avoid Warren. And while he’d attempted to speak to her twice after, either Dom, June or Sheila had stopped him.
That morning, Carissa rose from her bed and left the empty dorm. Her rash decision to contact Quintus the day before didn’t seem so bad after rest. Quintus—if the voice had even been his—had admitted to not being able to locate her. That thought filled her with relief as she headed to the only place where she felt safe.
She crept inside the storage shed to discover a sleeping Rover on the ground. He still wore the collar around his neck. A heavy chain connected that collar to the wall. The Guardian wolf lifted his head and whined, before setting his head to rest on his metal paws again.
How often did the Inventor check on his creation?
She sat cross-legged in front of Rover, but her presence did not lift the passive beast’s mood. Carissa could relate to his crippling loneliness; this Guardian might not be connected to the Collective, but he shared a connection with Jacob, his absent creator.
The floor dirtied her clothes. She wore the same green trousers and white top from the day before, stained with grass from a banned location. At least the grass stains blended in with the colour of her trousers. She had to search hard to find them. And they weren’t too noticeable on her sleeves either. Had this been the city, Carissa would have worn her usual white dress. But in the rebel camp, without a protective environmental bubble, she needed the extra layers.
Rover shifted his gaze from her to the side. Then, he closed his eyes again.
The silence bothered her. ‘Hey.’
She snapped her fingers to get the wolf’s attention. He opened his eyes and looked lazily at her.
‘Play with me.’
She used to play with her orb in the grounds of Praesidium. And while she’d never engaged with a Guardian before, she had little choice for a playmate.
But the wolf never stirred past an apathetic state. She huffed out a breath and got to her feet. Whatever connection she thought she had with Rover must have been in her head. Her thoughts returned to the grassy ledge above the compound. Her skin tingled at the thought of reconnecting with a like-minded individual.
He tried to kill you and your friends, Carissa.
But the rebels’ hostility towards her didn’t make them feel like friends. She returned to the alleyway and stopped outside the workshop. A discussion permeated through the wooden door. Her hand paused on the iron handle. Carissa went to turn it, but stopped. She didn’t feel like another lecture from the Inventor about how she should forget her past.
Easier said than done.
The connection point to her NMC irritated her skin. She relieved the itch, but only temporarily before it returned twofold. Another reason not to speak to the Inventor. He would punish her for doing the one thing she’d promised not to do.
Noise from the courtyard drew her attention away from the workshop. She followed the sound of a male soldier shouting commands inside the space. Carissa crept up to the edge of the wall that hid the courtyard. Shuffling closer to the opening, she saw Max commanding a group of males and females. In his group were Dom, Sheila and June, as well as Jerome.
Max pushed the recruits hard, shouting orders at them. Every so often, he told them to drop and give him twenty. Some jogged around the yard; others did press ups.
Max shouted more commands and most of the team ended up running laps, except for one. Jerome was doing sit-ups while Max hovered over him.
Carissa observed the newborn’s attempts to fit in with the Originals he claimed to be like. It was clear Max didn’t trust Jerome. So, why was Jerome trying so hard to impress him?
Her fingers grazed the smooth, metal disc on the side of her head. She wanted to be good, to serve a purpose here. She wanted to hear Quintus’ voice again, if only for a second, to hear him tell her she’d surpassed her original purpose as a Copy. To remind her of her superior status to the Originals from whose DNA she had been created. The Inventor told her once that she had a conscience. She’d proved that by helping to free the teenagers from Praesidium.
But here in this camp, nobody cared about what she’d done. Nobody had thanked her. Nobody had inquired after her state of mind. Instead, they treated her like she was invisible. Carissa had not been created to be a nobody.
She looked up to the ledge where the spotters were.
13
Anya
From the entrance to the dining hall, Anya watched the training session happen without her. Her body ached from a lack of exercise over the last few months and she’d done too little here to make it count. Before Arcis, before the time that had set a major change in her life in motion, she’d been active and strong. Her mind and her body had been in tune with each other. But now, they sung off key.
As the soldiers continued to train, she longed for a better distraction from last night’s disaster. Warren’s attempt to talk to her was bad enough. She knew Dom had only been trying to help, but what she
needed was to sort this mess out for herself. Not only Warren, but the thing between her and Alex. Did she really want him or just the protection he offered her?
He’d suggested they be friends. Would that be enough for her?
She folded her arms tight, pretending not to notice Dom’s glances as Max issued commands to the gathering of around twenty. The group included June, Sheila and Jerome, but not Jason. Her brother’s absence didn’t surprise her. Jason had always shunned anything to do with exercise.
Anya looked over at Carissa stood by the entrance to the courtyard, looking shy and awkward as she watched the session. What was going through her mind? The camp must be a strange place for a Copy from Praesidium. Carissa had spent her short life in the city learning about humanity. To be thrust into the reality must have come as a shock. The Copy who’d watched their time in Arcis remained Anya’s best link to her missing memories. But for now, she trusted her memories would return on their own.
Her eyes blurred the session as her thoughts combed over her fragmented memories. Their slow rate of return frustrated her, but it was a start. For the first time since waking up in Alex’s bedroom, she could see her future was not lost to a machine. But for all her hope, the city and its planned retribution never strayed far from her thoughts. If they sent forces to their location, who or what would they send first?
Carissa turned and left, but when Alex appeared in her place, all thoughts about her memories and the city drifted away. The beat of Anya’s heart thundered in her ears like a runaway train. She caught the look Dom flashed Alex, the Breeder Anya had convinced to leave the city.
A tap on her shoulder surprised her. She spun round to see a tentative Vanessa stood there, finger poised in the air.
‘I’m sorry to startle you. I thought we could chat about what you remember of home.’
Her timing couldn’t have been worse.
Vanessa was another person with a link to her—or rather her parents’—past. She had no time to reminisce about her old life, not while her head was still a mess. But she hadn’t ruled out the idea that a chat with the librarian might help to knock her other memories loose.
Alex disappeared from sight. The soldiers started running laps of the courtyard.
It’s now or never.
Anya mumbled to Vanessa, ‘I’m sorry. I have to go.’
‘Anya, we need to talk!’
She crossed the courtyard, narrowly avoiding the running group whose path she crossed, and followed him. He appeared to be headed for the perimeter fence. But he took a detour down the street behind the medical bay, where a row of roofless buildings lay open to the elements. Parked outside one property, she saw the truck they’d used to escape the city.
Alex ran his fingers over the rusted hood. He’d attempted to hotwire the car, but the battery had been dead. In the end, Rover’s power supply had delivered enough juice to start it. Now, the battered truck lay idle once more, as though it had reached the end of its life.
Anya slowed her approach. Alex looked deep in thought.
‘Hey,’ she said, her heart pounding for the guy she’d barely known a week.
A startled Alex spun round to face her. His expression softened when he saw her. ‘Oh, hey. How are you after last night?’
To any onlookers, the scene must have been confusing. She’d overheard the girls talking in the dorm about how she was a drama queen. Alex had every right to think the same. She hadn’t told him the exact memory Canya had returned to her.
She shrugged. ‘Fine, I suppose.’
As if he could read her thoughts, he said, ‘Did it have to do with what Canya returned to you? Was Warren in your memory?’
His astuteness unsettled her; she crossed her arms in defence. She wanted to confide in Alex so bad about what Canya had shared with her—they had shared some secrets in his bedroom—but now he was like a stranger to her.
With a smile, she said, ‘It was nothing. I just wanted to talk. We agreed to be friends, but there’s still tension between us.’
‘Yeah, I know. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.’
Her nerves flared at his admission. It made what she had to say next all the more difficult.
Alex concentrated on the truck once more. In the new light, in this new setting, she didn’t recognise the almost man from the city.
‘It feels... weird.’
Alex looked at her. ‘What does? This place?’
Anya shook her head. ‘No, this, between us.’
He nodded and glanced back at the truck. ‘I know.’
‘So, what do we do about it?’
His eyes on her, Alex shrugged. ‘What do you want to do?’
‘Can we talk a little?’
He dragged his top lip through his teeth. ‘Okay. What do you want to talk about?’
‘We almost had sex in the city.’
He leaned against the truck and folded his arms, looking uncomfortable. ‘I remember.’
‘But now, it’s like all of those feelings are gone.’
‘Yeah.’
She uncrossed her arms and picked at her fingers. ‘Were our feelings for each other just to do with the chemicals?’
Alex dipped his chin and sighed. ‘I don’t know. I mean, I like you.’ He lifted his gaze to her. ‘I liked talking to you in my room, but after we left, a switch sort of flipped in my brain.’
Anya knew what he meant. But she still had feelings for Alex, which indicated some of what she’d felt had been real. The fade just hadn’t happened quite as fast for her.
‘Gee, thanks.’
She rolled her eyes to break the tension, but Alex straightened up in alarm. He dropped his arms to his sides.
‘You know what I mean.’
Anya smiled at him. ‘I do. I’m only teasing.’ She joined him at the truck and leaned against it. ‘I get what you’re saying, but the feelings haven’t faded as fast for me.’
‘So what now?’ he said. ‘Do we carry on as before? I meant it when I said I’d like to be friends.’
She smiled at the ground. ‘I’d like that.’
Alex elbowed her lightly. ‘Friends it is.’
Her smiled dropped away. A twinge of jealousy took hold as she pondered her next question.
She pinned him with her gaze, needing to see his reaction. ‘So, are you and June an item?’
‘What?’ Alex blushed and scuffed the ground with his foot. ‘No. We’re just friends. I mean, I like her, but I haven’t known her that long.’
His reaction told her everything. Something special was happening between the pair.
‘If there’s something there, you should go for it.’
Alex shifted his position. ‘Problem is, I don’t know what real feels like.’
He’d been a prisoner in the city, a slave to a drug called Rapture that heightened his most basic desires. But getting to know a person required digging deeper than the physical.
‘If it helps, we already know what real doesn’t feel like: you and me. You’ve got to trust your gut.’
‘I’m sorry for leading you on.’ Alex sighed. ‘You helped me in the city. I’m grateful to you for getting me out of there.’
Anya waved away the thanks; right now, it sounded too much like a consolation prize. ‘All I want to do is retrieve my missing memories.’
He turned to face her, his expression softer. ‘Of course. Are they coming back?’
‘A little. Too slow for my liking.’
‘Give them time.’
She nodded, but she wanted them back now, not later. Her sporting endeavours had required discipline and taught her patience. But this half life, this excessive fear she felt towards her attacker, put her in a vulnerable position. Her memories were vague at best and her connection with Alex was gone.
‘You should watch the training session again,’ said Anya, keen to shift away from this topic. ‘I think it will make your transition here go more smoothly if you show an active interest in the group events. The m
ore you isolate yourself, the more Max and the others will continue to treat you differently.’
‘They already treat me differently, but okay.’ Alex gave the hood of the car one final pat. ‘You coming?’
‘In a little while.’
Alex stayed by the truck.
She forced a smile and pushed him on. ‘Go.’
He nodded and left. Anya watched the only friend she remembered go. While her attraction to him was false, the hole in her heart his departure caused was not.
14
Dom
Max’s commands blurred into nonsense the second Anya crossed the courtyard to follow Alex. Dom’s mind raced with the possibilities of what that might mean. His left arm, the one with Praesidium’s tech in it, pinched. So much, it almost stopped him mid run. But Max’s voice, sharp and gruff, dragged his focus back to the present. He shook off the distraction.
Sheila, who ran beside him, puffed, ‘I don’t know why I’m doing this. I hate exercise.’
He caught enough of her complaint to reply. ‘Max’s orders. Unless you’re coming up with creative ways to take down the Collective, you’re needed here.’
Sheila breathed hard. ‘So why doesn’t Alex or Anya have to do this?’
Why indeed. Maybe he had different plans for them.
Them.
The word scrambled his thoughts again. From the way Anya chased after Alex, it was clear something had happened between them in the city. Dom had been too out of it to notice. Alex hadn’t been selected to be a Breeder for nothing.
‘Dom, pick up the pace!’ shouted Max.
Several people passed him and Sheila. Sheila wasn’t complaining about the slower pace. In fact, they’d almost come to a stop.
‘Screw this,’ said Dom, breaking off from the run. ‘I need to speak to her, to apologise about last night.’
He abandoned his training, despite Max’s irritated yells to come back. Sheila shouted at him to stop. Ignoring them both, he strode out of the courtyard. He got as far as the trucks before Sheila caught up with him.
