arbitrate (daynight)

by Thomason, Megan

  “Ethan, I’m concerned about Jackson being here…that the Arbiters will figure out a way to mar tonight’s victory.”

  It takes effort to hold back an eye roll and a groan at the reminder of why Jax is really here. “I think the only reason he is here is to keep an eye on Kira, not because he and the Arbiters have some grand plan.”

  “It looked like he had more than an eye on Kira earlier.” Pour salt in my open wound, why don’t you.

  I clench my teeth. “Exactly my point. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

  “I make it my point to worry about everything and plan for every possibility.”

  “Of course you do.”

  He finishes his drink in one large gulp. “Just keep an eye on him tonight. I don’t want anything messing up my plans.”

  Two months, one week prior: Anaheim, California

  “Why did we have to bring him along?” I asked Alexa as we stood in line for Space Mountain. When Alexa suggested spending a rare day off at Disneyland to let off some steam, I didn’t know Joshua would be coming.

  “Shush. You know your aunt and uncle have him watching me. Can’t you guys get along for one day?”

  “Round and round on the coaster he goes…deep into the pitch black hole. Such a shame when his belt comes loose and he hits a large steel pole.” Joshua had been singing about all the ways I could meet an untimely death for several hours.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty sure we can’t—unless you brought a muzzle.”

  Joshua chuckled and then started a full on drumbeat on the railing of the ramp down to the ride. “De-cap-i-ta-tion. Oh yeah, castration. Bit ’o sedation. Asphyxiation…”

  I pushed him up against the rail, so that he was half-hanging over the cars below. “Shut up. Seriously. Who sings about the different ways he wants his cousin to die?”

  Joshua pushed back and shrugged me off him. He removed his baseball cap, ran his hands through his curls, and then replaced the hat. “You are so paranoid.”

  “And you are so psychotic,” I responded. “Can’t you just hold normal conversations with people instead of singing crazy songs all the time?”

  He looked at the people in front of us and in back of us before saying, “Awww, how sweet. You want to have a conversation with me. So…hey…it looks like our Uncle has a lock on things.”

  Great. To get Joshua to stop singing, I had to talk work on my day off. “It does look that way.”

  “What’s he got planned for D-Day? Some big shindig?”

  I motioned for him to move down the ramp. We’re approaching our turn. “Of course he does. He has both the public party and then the post-party.”

  Joshua cocked his head. “I don’t get it. Why two?”

  “There’s the televised event with the big speech and then the after-party with all the people he knows—friends, family, and party constituents. It’ll be a very controlled environment if you know what I’m saying. Only a certain type of person can attend.” SCI-only, though I didn’t say it out loud. I didn’t have to.

  “Is it happening in town, or will he be on the road?”

  “Some swanky hotel downtown. Party one’s in the ballroom, and party two’s in the top floor restaurant.”

  Joshua nudged Alexa. “Sounds like quite the bash. Since you are the face of the Clean Slate Complex and Henry’s campaign success story, I’m going to make sure you get to wear something totally hot.”

  Alexa punched his arm. “I am not letting you pick what I wear. I don’t even want to go. Celebrating that seems completely and totally wrong.”

  “Well, I’m going. It’ll be memorable as hell watching Henry be all smug about his win. Plus, I’m sure the spread’ll be sweet, and I’m sick and tired of Complex food.”

  The Disney attendant pointed us to two back-to-back rows. Alexa and I got in the first car, with Joshua directly behind me. The ride was a blast, and there were no steel posts or decapitations involved. But when we got off the ride and saw our pictures, Joshua had his hand shaped like a pistol directly behind my head. Alexa laughed it off. Joshua shrugged and said, “I was just joking around.” I really wondered what his deal was. My guess was that he had a thing for Alexa and couldn’t deal with us dating. As far as I knew, he’d never lost anyone close to him, so he couldn’t possibly understand the bond Alexa and I shared.

  When we exited the Space Mountain building, it was like we’d entered an alternate universe. As far as we could see, the park visitors were lined up in formation for one of Henry’s “Stand Up” impromptu rallies, all holding hands. Several “ringer” singers broke out in a moving rendition of The Star Spangled Banner in true flash mob style.

  Most of those coming off the rides joined the line. We didn’t. Instead, we watched the spectacle from the sidelines with foreign visitors and staunch anti-Henry King Republicans. But even we got caught up when tens of thousands of Disneyland visitors sang America the Beautiful together. It was moving and my eyes filled with tears—both for the beautiful display of patriotism and because my uncle planned to take away every blessed benefit of democracy from the American citizens who so staunchly supported him.

  Joshua’s fists were balled tight at his side. “What he’s doing is wrong. While they’re singing about freedom, he’s snatching it right out from under them. Look at all those kids. What kind of future are they going to have? Will they even be able to bring their kids here one day? He has got to be stopped, man.”

  After the song everyone shouted, “We’re Standing Up for what we believe!”

  I muttered, “Yeah, I think it’s time we do the same.”

  Present

  Kira and Jax manage to avoid us for the rest of the “public” party. The after-party is an SCI-official only affair being held in a more intimate setting. They’ve taken over a restaurant/bar on the top floor of the hotel and have spared no expense. The view is stunning, the champagne is flowing, and the mood is upbeat. If there were a magazine dedicated to SCI celebrities—those from Earth and Thera—a red carpet would be rolled out, and the paparazzi would be having a field day. I can’t think of any prominent Daynighter on the political scene who isn’t here.

  Jax and Kira are being cornered by Brad and Blake. My mother is noticeably not with her Cleave and is entertaining the rest of the Ten. Victor and Violet are congratulating Henry and his family. I think I see Joshua but then realize the guy is actually a member of the Secret Service assigned to protect Henry. I’m sure Joshua is around here somewhere. He never seems to be far from where Alexa is.

  In addition to my screwed up family, everyone Henry plans to give a cabinet spot to is here. There are also several DNT-blooded, A-list celebrities who gave early endorsements to Henry and helped create a social media buzz that has never died down.

  Alexa looks really uncomfortable in this crowd. I can’t blame her. Just a few months ago, she was homeless, and now she’s mingling with some of the country’s most powerful people. “Hey, I’m going to get a plate of food. Can I get you anything?” she asks.

  “Nah, I’m not hungry.” I lost my appetite the moment you kissed me in front of the girl I actually wanted to be kissing tonight.

  She gives me a peck on the cheek. “How about I meet you in the back of the restaurant in ten? It looks less crowded back there.”

  “Sure.” The moment she walks away, I stride purposefully towards Kira.

  My mother intercepts me. “Sweetheart, I haven’t seen you all evening.” Her words are slurred. I think she has been partaking liberally of the free champagne. “Have you congratulated your uncle yet?”

  “I haven’t had a chance. He has been pretty swamped with well-wishers. But I promise I will soon, okay?”

  Her eyes are sparkling when she says, “I thought you came here with Kira? Why has she been with Jax all night?”

  I give her a weak smile. “Just a misunderstanding that I plan to go rectify now. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  She stumbles off in the d
irection of Henry, and I march over to Kira. I don’t bother to acknowledge Brad, Blake, or Jax. I just pull Kira away.

  “Let go of me, Ethan.”

  “No. We’re going to talk. And it’s going to happen now.”

  She yanks her arm away from me and crosses her arms over her chest. “Speak fast so that I can return to my other date…the one who came and rescued me when you decided to shove your tongue down your girlfriend’s throat.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have told her about you. I should have made the time to go and break things off with her for good. And I should have realized that she would be here tonight. I really am sorry. She’s not the one I wanted to be with tonight. She’s not the one I want. I want to be with you—with you and Zander.”

  Rather than comforting her, my words seem to make her more angry. “Your fantasy of a quaint little family with Zander and me will never happen. You seem to be able to conveniently forget that Zander is not my only child.”

  My eyes sink to the floor as if pulled by giant weights. I say quietly, “I didn’t mean it that way, Kira. I know Zander’s not your only child. I just didn’t think it was my place to step in and pretend that I was something I wasn’t.”

  “Everything okay here, love?” Jax couldn’t even give me a minute alone with her.

  We’re all at a standstill, staring at each other, daring each other to speak. But no one accepts the dare, and the silence threatens to strangle us all.

  “What’s going on here?” It’s Alexa’s voice, but I don’t turn to look at her. I refuse to be the one to back down from our three-way glare fest. “People are looking over here. Maybe we should take this outside? Like now.”

  “No.” All three of us speak at the same time.

  “Seriously. We need to get out of here.”

  She tries to physically herd us out, but she’s not strong enough to budge anyone but Kira. “You guys are ridiculous. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you guys had some sort of love triangle going on.”

  I wince. Kira winces. Jax winces. And now Alexa knows. It would have been so much better had I just told her. I’m forced to break my stare and look at Alexa. She looks different, and it’s not just because of the “you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me” look on her face. The big chunky necklace is missing. I guess the extra sparkle wasn’t worth the weight. But I digress. Time to fess up. “Kira and I were Cleaved—that’s equivalent to marriage back home. I thought she’d died giving birth to our child. Jax let me believe that it was true. I swear, I thought that it was true when we met.”

  Alexa glares at me like the philandering bastard I am. “Married? Child?” She spits at me.

  “No longer Cleaved. But yes, we have a son. One that was conceived in a lab.”

  She starts backing away. “You deserve whatever you’ve got coming to you.” The crowd’s at full attention, watching the scene as she storms off.

  Jax tries to get my attention. “Ethan, let’s go. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

  I’ve got a lot of bad feelings right now. But I’m paralyzed, stuck between the angry girlfriend and the angry ex-Cleave. Jax grabs hold of me and starts to pull, but I stand firm.

  “Don’t be stupid, Ethan. Let’s get out of here.”

  Kira speaks, her lips quivering as the words leave her mouth. “Please, Ethan. Let’s take this outside.” I can tell she’s just trying to get me to listen to Jax. She doesn’t actually want to discuss any of this with me.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I say this to Jax. If Kira were alone, I’d happily leave with her.

  He shakes his head and looks really conflicted. Finally he relents. “Fine, don’t leave with us, but leave.”

  Kira looks completely humiliated and more than ready to abandon ship. So when he whispers something and tugs at her, she happily follows. I try to figure out where I should go. Do I go talk to Alexa? Try to get Kira to listen to me again? Or just run off to my apartment and get my act together first?

  I hear the tapping of a microphone, signaling that Henry’s about to give a speech. People’s heads turn away from me and my drama and toward Henry.

  “This will be a night we will not soon forget.” Henry’s voice booms through the speaker system. “Raise your glasses and join me in a toast.” He lifts his glass of champagne to the crowd. “To wiping the slate clean and rebuilding this country from the ashes of our mistakes!”

  I’d point out that his two statements are contradictory, but I’m more intrigued that several people aren’t participating in the toast. Brad is whispering furiously and angrily at Blake who looks at his watch, says something to Brad and then heads towards the door. Violet and Victor are walking away from where Brad is. And the secret service guy I saw earlier is talking into his wrist as he maneuvers through the crowd to the back of the restaurant.

  “May our impact be swift and powerful.” Henry raises his glass again and then takes a sip. “Like the shot heard around the world.”

  BOOM.

  The deafening sound ripples through the room.

  I’m thrown from where I’m standing.

  Pain slices through me as the room and world fade out.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Blake

  A few minutes prior

  Brad is gripping my arm with a little too much force. “Follow Jax. I don’t trust him or any of the Arbiters. They are clearly interested in interfering with our livelihood. Now that Henry’s won the election, they’ll likely pull some kind of power play. I want to know what they have planned the moment they plan it.”

  “Now? In the middle of Henry’s speech?” I look at my watch. Brad’s being ridiculous. The only power play Jax has going is one involving Kira and Ethan.

  “Yes. Go.”

  I walk away from him and towards the restaurant exit. Guys in black suits, who I assume are Secret Service, make me sign out at the entrance. I look at my watch again, so I can note the time. What’s worse? Listening to Henry drone on or getting mixed up in Kira’s latest love triangle? Not that I see Jax and Kira anywhere to interfere. They could be long gone by now. How exactly did Brad expect me to “follow” an Arbiter who could portal anywhere across two worlds in a nanosecond?

  Henry’s voice comes through the microphone. “May our impact be swift and powerful. Like the shot heard around the world.”

  I look back in to see the smug grin on Henry’s face. What I’d do to permanently wipe it off him. He’s clear at the other end of the restaurant, but he might as well be screaming his satisfaction. We won. We won and there’s nothing the American public can do to prevent an SCI takeover now. Screw the SCI. I think I prefer to deal with the love triangle. In fact, it’s a relief that I’m not in the love triangle. Gads, what a hassle it is having the girl you like have split affections. I’m always going to feel something for Kira, but I’m so happy to have distance from the drama.

  A flash of light interrupts my thought. Followed by a fireball and deafening boom.

  It all happens in a matter of seconds.

  I’m still in one piece. The blast missed me.

  The shock wave doesn’t.

  Crap.

  Air rushes back into the space, bringing with it flying objects.

  I’m thrown forward, flattened to the ground. I cover my head with my hands to prevent any projectiles from embedding in my brain, but that just means my arms take the brunt of it.

  When the whooshing and crashing sounds cease, I crawl back away from the main dining room.

  I’ve got a few scratches but nothing too bad.

  I pull out my phone and dial 911, trying my best to communicate the severity of the situation and injuries. Who is still in the restaurant? I’m almost certain Jax and Kira left, but what about Ethan? Joshua? Alexa? My mother, Brad, Henry and his family, the Ten…I’m pretty sure they’re all in there. Some small part of me thinks that the world would be better off without the SCI politicians—but I can’t ignore a bunch of injured, dying people. I’d never be able to
live with myself. I’ve got to at least account for my family members, Jax and Kira.

  A huge chunk of the restaurant ceiling is gone, exposing the sky. Smoke is starting to fill the expansive room, but I can see that the windows are all blown out, and there are glass, dishes, food, furniture parts, and artwork strewn everywhere.

  There’s a small fire where the blast started. If it spreads, it’ll get ugly. A click-click-click noise catches my attention, and I see water spraying from the intact portions of the ceiling.

  Ear-piercing screams fill the air.

  People are pushing…

  … and tumbling

  … and crawling out of the room.

  The large foyer outside the restaurant fills with the injured.

  Oh my Gads—their skin.

  Red. Mottled. Shredded. Blistered. Sizzling. Gone.

  Chemical burns.

  The sprinklers.

  I look up. The foyer sprinklers are off but that could change.

  “Hurry,” I yell into the phone before I throw it down.

  I hold my shirt over my face to combat the smoke and search the faces of those streaming out for people I know. Although I recognize many of them, none are the faces I want to see.

  The whirring and clicking of the sprinklers stops, but the damage has been done.

  I grab ahold of one of the guys in a black suit. “I’m going in. We’ve got to get the rest of the people out of there. They need immediate medical attention. Whatever was in that water is eating them alive.”

  He yanks me back, nearly dislocating my elbow. “Leave it to the professionals. They’re on their way up now. You’re not going anywhere.” He slaps a cuff on one of my wrists and then secures me to a heavy iron art piece—a giraffe—in the foyer. “You’re a witness and a potential suspect.”

  “Are you kidding me? A suspect? Henry King’s my uncle. My mother and brother are in there—potentially injured or dead. And you think I’m somehow responsible?” I’m spitting my words at tall, dark, and stupid, loud and full of disgust. “We could be saving lives and you want to interrogate me?”