by Melissa West
Jackson adjusts on the bed, stretching his legs out and tucking his arms behind his head. “Fear. Hope. I’m not sure. I know she still sees the old Zeus in him, but I’m starting to wonder if that Zeus really ever existed or if this Zeus was always there, layers deep below the one we loved.”
I clear my throat. “Do you think…it has to do with him losing your dad?” I cut my eyes toward him. I know next to nothing about his father and don’t want to risk upsetting him more, but sometimes major events—like death—can change a person. Maybe that’s what happened to Zeus. Or maybe he’s just straight crazy and there is no logical explanation.
“No. Well, maybe. I didn’t know him then so I can’t say how that impacted him. All I know is that he wasn’t this way when I was young and my dad died before I was born. I really think it’s fear. I think he’s afraid to trust humans and he lets his fear eat at him, change him. I just wish I could protect Mami. Every time I go there, my breath catches just before I see her, like any day she could be gone.”
I close my eyes at the pain in his voice and without thinking reach over and link my fingers through his. “What set him off? I mean, was there something or did he just go crazy?”
Jackson adjusts again, this time obviously buying time. “It was…you.”
I jerk up in bed and peer down at him. “What? What do you mean it was me?”
“She asked to see you. He refused. An argument ensued, and then as usual, he pushed her until she agreed to submit. She even apologized to me for asking to see you. Can you believe that? Said she should have known better.” Anger and resentment swirl from his mind into mine and for a moment I get a taste of the Zeus Jackson sees—selfish, controlling, irrational, everything Jackson hates and everything he fights to avoid becoming.
“Why would he keep her from seeing me?” I whisper, though the real question I should be asking is, why did she want to see me? Somehow I feel certain she never shared that with Jackson. This feels more…private, like my meetings with Emmy, and perhaps Emmy has spoken with her about those meetings. They are sisters after all.
“Honestly? I don’t know.” He sighs heavily, and with that, silence overcomes us. I lie back down, my mind filled with worry. Zeus refuses to allow Mami to see me. Why? What does she know that he wants to keep from me or what might I know that he wants kept secret from her? Surely nothing, but then…Emmy claims I’m the one who will get us back to Earth.
I continue to work through all the possible reasons, and before long I hear the soft release of Jackson’s breathing beside me. He’s asleep, but I’m left wide awake, one thought on my mind, recurring over and over, building on itself with such passion that I feel as though my mind could explode from the madness at any moment.
I hate Zeus. I hate him with a deep, full longing that I have never felt for another person or thing in my life. I hate the way he walks, the way he talks. I hate the way he looks down upon you as though he knows so much more than you, more than you could ever know. But mostly…I hate that he has issued fear in Jackson, someone I thought was fearless.
I need to know more about Zeus, specifically more from the people who know him the most, and only one person can give me the answers I need.
It’s time I meet Mami.
Chapter 16
I hear a knock on the door some hours later and slip from the bed to find Vill outside the door. “Someone has messaged you.”
I follow him down to Jackson’s office and he closes the door to give me privacy. The screen is already lit, the same formal group as the first call conjured together, though this time their faces show even more worry than before.
“Thank you for meeting with us,” Kelvin Lancaster says, again at the head of the table. “We understand there have been some recent developments you would like to discuss.”
I draw a deep breath, and launch into everything I know. Cybil. Emmy. What she has asked me to do. What Zeus has done with the Operatives, and finally I end with his threat to kill one human publicly until the leaders agree to coexist. “Is it true that he issued an ultimatum yesterday?”
Kelvin sits back in his chair. “It is. But we refuse to succumb to threats. As you know, we are prepared to offer a home to any on Loge who wish to come here. With the exception to Zeus himself. He is too dangerous to allow within our world. Which is why your mission is more important now than ever. The sooner Zeus is dead, the sooner we can get everyone safely back to Earth.”
“How am I supposed to do that, though? He’s always guarded. He seems to know what is happening moments before it happens. He has a paranoia to him that is unlike anything I have ever witnessed.”
“You will need a diversion,” Dad says from the opposite side of the table. “From what you have told us, Ari, the people there are afraid of him. Use that fear.”
I nod. “I think you’re right. I think the only chance I have is to start a rebellion. We will have to put all plans in place so the night we move everyone to Earth, is the night I kill him.”
Conversations start up around the table, some full of energy, others unsure. I wait for them to settle down and then direct my gaze at Kelvin. “I need assurance that you will do as you say. You will allow all Ancients and humans here to safely return to Earth. I will keep my end of this arrangment, but I need a guarantee that you will keep yours.”
Kelvin laces his fingers together. “You have my word.”
I notice Law tense beside him, almost imperceptibly, his eyes planted on the table in front of him. “Law?” I ask, and his head snaps up, his expression blank.
“Yes?”
Kelvin interrupts. “You may address President Cartier as such or as Mr. President during these calls.”
“What? I thought you were the acting president.”
“I am only the interium president. The true President of the United States is Lawrence Cartier.”
I feel my insides swirl with sickness. Something isn’t right here. “Law—Mr. President?” I ask, correcting myself before Kelvin gets angry and cuts the connection.
Lawrence trains his eyes on me, something empty inside them, so different than the Lawrence he was when we talked alone. I glance from Lawrence to Kelvin, wondering if Kelvin is the reason for the change. “You have a mission now, Ari, “he says. “We expect you have work to do.”
“But what about the humans? What about the daily killings?”
“We will handle that on our end. You need only focus on the task at hand. Start the rebellion. You have one week.”
My eyes slip to my dad, and I see him mouthing something and then placing his chin in his hand, three fingers cradling his jaw. Three. What? I start to ask, when he shakes his head, and then the screen cuts out.
I sit there for at least an hour, staring at the screen, trying to reason what just happened. Something is wrong with Lawrence. It’s like Kelvin has a finger on his pulse. And Dad doesn’t seem to trust the others, I can tell by the way he remains quiet while they talk. That isn’t Dad. What has happened back on Earth?
I pull myself from the chair and start back down the hall to Jackson and my room, but then decide better of it. The sun is beginning to rise, the first signs of day slipping through the windows in slivers of white. It’s nearly morning and Zeus plans to kill one of our people today. I have to do something. I need to question Mami before everything gets out of control. And before Zeus ends up killing her.
…
“Hello, child,” Emmy says as I approach her in the garden. She’s on her knees, tending to a patch of grass that has turned yellow and brown.
“Emmy, that can’t be good for your knees. Let me help.” I reach my hand out, but she’s already standing, a curious expression on her face.
“There’s been a change,” she says, eyeing me. “Your color is dark.”
“I need you to teach me, Emmy.” I drop down onto the ground beside the patch, my resolve in place. “Help me learn how to heal.”
She kneels down beside me and places my hands ove
r a patch of grass. “Feel it child. The individual. Each blade. Feel it.”
I close my eyes and focus on the grass, on each blade as she says, and suddenly my palms begin to prickle. My eyes snap open to the grassy patch, but nothing has happened. “Why isn’t it working?” I say, frustrated.
“Breathe. Focus.” She places my hands back over the patch. “Try again.”
I eye each blade as an individual being, with life within it, needing my life to rekindle it, just as Emmy said. My palm prickles again as the energy transfers from me into the grass. I keep my eyes closed, my mind clear of anything but the blades. I feel as though my energy is separating from my body, becoming a tangible thing that I can mold at my will. I open my eyes and smile up at Emmy. The blades aren’t green, as they would be for Emmy, but they’re no longer brown.
“Again,” Emmy says.
I tune out everything but what I’m doing, and after several minutes of working, I’ve only healed an inch or two of the patch.
“Good try, child.”
I sit back on my heels. “I thought I would be able to do it. ” I rest my hand a few inches above the patch and concentrate with everything I have on turning the patch green. They remain the same yellow as before.
“You think too much.”
“Yeah…I’m hearing that a lot lately.”
“So clear your mind,” Emmy says, pressing her hand over mine and within seconds the patch is fully green and alive.
I stare out past the wall of flowers to the dying Loge beyond, wondering how I ended up here. Just a few months ago my life was very normal. And now… “I want to see Mami,” I say, unwilling to let myself focus on things I can’t change.
She smiles. “I thought you might.” And then before I can say another word, I hear someone walk up behind us and a meek voice say, “Hello, Ari.”
“Mami?”
She smiles, and instantly I see where Jackson got his good looks. Her hair is vibrant white and so shiny she looks like she has stepped out of a fantasy world. She has it loose so it flows around her as she walks, and I find myself staring as though I’m watching something magical. Her eyes are the same green-blue of all the other Ancients—like mine—and against her light golden skin she looks much younger than what I know her actual age must be. In the moment, I’m torn between searching her face and arms for hints of the fight from last night and wanting to bow my head to her. Somehow, unlike everyone else I’ve met on Loge, she has a quality about her that suggests greatness or pureness or perhaps it’s just that I know how much Jackson cares for her.
She stops a few feet from Emmy and me, and I know she is taking a great risk coming to see me like this. Surely Zeus doesn’t know and wouldn’t approve. “You are right, on both accounts. Though, regardless of what my grandson says, I do have a mind and choose to think on my own. There is just a great difference between acting out our thoughts and preserving them for quieter times. Do you understand what I mean?”
I lower my head a bit in embarrassment. “I do, though if I’m honest I have to admit that I’m not very good at that. Preserving my thoughts. I tend to show them fully the moment I think them.”
“I see,” she says, her eyes lit with humor. “I can see why Jackson is drawn to you. You are openly honest, even with those you barely know. It is an admirable trait. One I am sure you realize few possess.” Her gaze pierces through me and I wonder if she is referring to Jackson hiding who he truly was or if she is simply stating the obvious—that few reveal themselves as openly as me, something I’ve been told since I was a little girl. My mom would laugh and say that my face was a picture to the depth of my soul. I always knew she appreciated this about me, maybe because she herself was that way when she was younger.
Dad, on the other hand, fought me continuously on the trait, reprimanding me for using facial expressions at all during training. “Your face can be a weapon for or against you,” he would say. But what he never understood was that I prefer to be open, even if that makes me weak.
“You have questions for me. Come, let us discuss.” Mami walks past me to a wooden bench further down into the garden. The path is more open here, and the flowers and trees larger and more enclosed, making it difficult to see the decrepit world beyond Triad. From this vantage point, you can almost forget that there is a dying planet, and instead all the beauty and smells of the garden overpower you.
Mami sits on the bench and pats the space beside her for me to sit as well. I take the seat reluctantly, not because I don’t trust her, but because I’m unsure of where to take the conversation and I’m afraid of revealing something that perhaps I shouldn’t know or asking a question that may make things even harder for her. I look away at the garden, trying hard to come up with something to say and feeling more and more uncomfortable by the second, when she takes my hand in hers, like Emmy does so often, surprising me. I turn to face her and instantly feel a pang in my chest for my mother. She looks at me like my mother looks at me—with care and understanding, as though nothing I could say would surprise or anger her. As though she is here just to make me feel more at ease. It’s overwhelming and I have to look away before I start rambling on about all the things here that scare me, including Zeus.
“Why do you and Emmy sound so different? You were raised by the same parents, right?”
She laughs, the sound so full of life that I can’t understand how Zeus—or anyone for that matter—could ever be mean to her. She’s so…pure. “Do you have siblings, Ari?”
I shake my head. “No. My mother wasn’t able to have another child after me. She calls me her little miracle.” I feel my cheeks flush. I have no idea why I just admitted that to her.
“I see,” she says, thoughtful. “Most children develop in different ways. Emmy chose to not speak for much of her childhood and then suddenly once she did, her language was clipped, hard to understand. My parents worked with her for years, but she chose to never fully develop her language skills. Many felt she was…challenged. But I’m sure you realize that Emmy is very bright. She never learned to speak correctly out of choice. Choice, after all, is a powerful thing. Which brings us to the true questions on your mind.”
I look away, torn between the most pressing question and the most obvious. I go with the most obvious. “Jackson said you wanted to see me. Why? And why did Zeus refuse?”
She is thoughtful for a long time before answering. “I believe you possess a strong spirit. And I believe you want to protect not only your kind, but mine. I want to help you.”
“So Zeus found out about it?”
At this she grins. She’s a lot like Emmy, I realize. “You will learn one day, dear child, that there are many secrets to the female mind. Learning to hide them is part of our strength. Now, will you allow me to help you?”
I nod and she shakes the hand she’s still holding, clasping her other hand on top. “Remember your strength today, Ari. You will need it. I will be as forthcoming as I am able and still protect you. Knowledge is a tool and too much can create enemies. My wish is to help you, so please trust that anything I refrain from saying is for your protection, not mine.”
“My protection? I think I would rather know everything.”
“A statement of the weak. We must prepare you to receive the information first, else your reflex to respond will overcome your good doing.”
I try to let what she’s saying absorb. “Mami, is he planning to kill all the humans here—Operatives as well as the other humans?”
“Yes.”
I feel my pulse quicken. “Do you know when?”
“The Operatives will be used as shields when he attacks your planet. They will die by your soldiers’ hands at Zeus’s doing. The other humans will be killed daily, as you know. He claims this is unless your leaders agree to coexist, but truly that is just a diversion. He plans to attack regardless of what they agree to. He plans to take over Earth.”
I gasp. “Take over? So there’s nothing we can do? No agreement that can be mad
e?”
“I’m afraid the time for compromise and discussion is over. I believe you have been tasked with a mission here?” She studies me, and I realize she knows I’m supposed to kill Zeus.
“I have.”
“Then let me leave you. Time is not our friend, child, and you have work to do.”
I leave the Juniper Gardens and walk around the river, to find a crowd forming at the bridge over Gaia Road. I slip through the group to the front, eager to see what’s happening, and stop cold, my heart suddenly in my throat. A woman is standing on the railing of the bridge, her feet barely clinging to the wood. Tears stream down her eyes. She’s visibly shaking. But none of that is what has me racing through the crowd, pushing men and women aside, my voice stuck in my throat, desperate to let out a cry for help. A noose surrounds her neck like a necklace, the end tied to the bridge’s railing. I finally manage to scream, as a guard pushes her off the bridge, her body swinging out and then falling toward the water below.
“No!” I scream as I jump into the river. The water rushes up to my chest, colder than when I fell in from the boat. It feels like weeks since that happened, years. I scramble through the water, trying to swim, but fear has locked down my limbs. I see the woman’s body swinging helplessly a few inches above the water’s surface, and I have to get to her, I have to save her. I knew Zeus planned to kill a human, but somehow I thought it was only a threat, a cheap trick to get Earth’s leaders to listen. How could I be so stupid? I finally reach the woman and try to lift her up, give her a chance to breathe, but she’s heavier than me and I can’t hold her, I can’t hold her. I grunt from the effort, my arms burning, as I scream over and over for someone to help me, to please help me. The crowd begins to disperse, no one willing to go against Zeus. I feel a cry burst from my lips as her legs stop thrashing, the warmth in her body replaced with cold.
“No, no, no. Please, no. Please no.”
An arm wraps my waist and pulls me back. “Shhh.”
