What Tomorrow May Bring

by Tony Bertauski

  “Anything less than abject submission has to have some attack in it.”

  —Frank Herbert

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Kira

  Three weeks after having left Thera

  I awaken groggy, nauseated, hooded, and with extreme facial pain from where I was whacked with a gun. From the intensity of the pain, I bet that I have a huge welt and am in for some very attractive bruising. My captor drops me in a heap onto a hard surface.

  A familiar voice indicates that I’ve returned to Thera. Brad Darcton. My hands are tied behind my back with something thin and cutting. A tight gag keeps me from speaking. Oddly, I feel better than I did the last time through. Physically, that is. Mentally, I’m just waiting to be shoved into a padded room as the memories of the deaths at my childhood home flood my brain. I have to keep it together. I wriggle to indicate I’m awake and await to have my hood, gag, and cuffs removed—and to see if Ethan and Jared made it through with me. The thought of either of them dying at my hands is unbearable. I’ve already killed my parents; more blood would soak my hands.

  “Ah, it appears our little rebel has awoken,” I hear Brad Darcton say. “Keep her hands in the restraints until I know that she plans to behave.” A pair of ice-cold hands removes my hood and then my gag. I wrench my head around and am devastated to see neither Ethan or Jared in view.

  “Where are they?” I struggle to speak, my emotions choking me.

  “Who?” Brad asks in a menacing tone.

  “My brother, Jared. Your son, Ethan.” I emphasize the “son.”

  Brad strolls over to me and with a nasty glare says, “I’m so sorry to hear about the untimely deaths of your parents. It’s so tragic when those we love die—especially when the deaths could have so easily been avoided.” I drop my head and try to contain the sob growing in my throat. Is that his way of telling me that Ethan and Jared are dead too? Everyone I care about. Gone. Do I dare confirm my worst fears? Could there still be one person left?

  I ask yet another question that I’m afraid to hear the answer to. “Blake? Is he alive?”

  Brad paces back and forth for what seems like an eternity before answering. “We found him, though his situation is dicey. Honestly, I don’t know which way it’s going to go. Your cooperation the next few weeks would go a long way to lifting his spirits and giving him the fight he needs, don’t you think?” He’s alive. I’ve never been more relieved or scared at the same time. This time, I’ll take Brad’s threat seriously. If I don’t cooperate, Brad will make sure Blake dies. If I cooperate, he has got a fighting chance. With Jared and Ethan presumably gone, I can’t lose my one last thread tying me to life and hope of a future.

  “Whatever you need me to do.” I bow my head in submission, even if it’s mock submission in my head.

  “You three will be placed in a…quiet area…where you can contemplate the bigger picture of things.” He has a sickeningly amused look on his face. Wait. Three?

  I’m afraid to take his bait. “Three?” I whisper. Brad motions to a colleague, and two hooded figures are dragged in and dumped beside me. I let out a gasp of relief as I recognize the clothes to be Jared and Ethan’s. Their hoods are removed, and they get the luck of having their cuffs, simple zip ties, removed. Jared looks bewildered. Ethan bursts into tears when he sees me, but Brad’s colleague keeps him from running to me to have a happy reunion.

  Brad steps forward to address Ethan. “Son, welcome back. I assume you’ve learned some vital lessons while away. One, to always follow orders. Two, I warned you to avoid the women on Earth. You’ve got to stop fighting me on the Cleaving thing.”

  How can he be so cavalier about killing my parents and Ethan’s harem? What a monster.

  Brad turns to Jared. “And, here, we have an unexpected guest.”

  I walk over beside Jared and plaster on a smile. “This is my brother, Jared. And I’m afraid in my passed out state that I didn’t have a chance to educate him on where we were headed. Perhaps you’d like to do the honors?”

  “Absolutely,” Brad Darcton beams. “Jared, welcome to Garden City, Thera.”

  “And where’s Garden City, Thera?” Jared asks.

  “It’s the location of Unit 27 of the Second Chance Institute. You left Earth by traveling through a portal to Earth’s sister planet, Thera. It’ll take some getting used to, and we’ll be sure to get you properly trained as Kira and Blake were. But first, I think all three of you need a little ‘me’ time. You’ll all be able to talk things through and gain some needed perspective.”

  “No, Dad. You can’t do that. You can’t lock us up…me up.” Ethan looks desperate as he places his hands on his father’s shoulders.

  “I can, and I will.” Brad pulls away from Ethan.

  “I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” Jared says, his mouth gaped open. “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?”

  “First, recuperation. Then, education. That’s what I tell every Recruit. I’ll see you all real soon,” Brad promises. He pauses to scan us and our disheveled, bloody state, “Oh, and get yourselves cleaned up. What a mess.”

  To the casual observer, one would think Ethan, Jared, and I were sharing a typical Garden City two bedroom home. Ethan and Jared took the twin beds in one bedroom, and I got the queen, just like in the house I share with Blake. This house, however, connects to the center city clinic and has been completely locked down. A team of physicians and psychiatrists manage our “care.”

  It takes a couple nights for us to lose the drug-induced haze that the doctor shot into us after our entry and much longer to get over the shock of the events that happened. Brad Darcton knows that he crossed a line by executing my family and Ethan’s friends in front of us. There’s no going back to presenting the Second Chance Institute as a benevolent cause. So, his only choice is to terrorize us into compliance, brainwash us into acceptance, or eliminate us.

  In case he needs to go for plan C, he plans to extract another round of eggs from me. Despite being drugged, I recognize the shots for what they are. When I try to protest, I’m kindly reminded of Blake’s fragile physical state and my brother’s tenuous mental state.

  Yes, Jared. He’s like a raving lunatic. Take note for future recruiting, SCI—don’t execute a Recruit’s parents in front of said Recruit if you want them to like you. While I’m currently terrorized into compliance, Jared’s far from willing to feign even a little obedience.

  “I’m going to kill them. Every last one of them,” he threatens. He’s pacing the living room and kicking the furniture.

  “That will be difficult without weapons, and I think you’re a little outnumbered.” I tuck my feet up onto our couch so that he doesn’t whack me in the shins.

  “They freaking killed Mom and Dad. For no reason.” He spits out the words, and his fists slam into an imaginary punching bag.

  “Not true. They had a reason. They wanted me back on Thera, and I wasn’t cooperating. I called their bluff, and they called mine. It’s my fault, Jared.” After all, it’s the truth.

  “It’s not your fault, Kira,” Ethan says. He has barely said a word since we returned. I’m shocked that he doesn’t blame me. “They were looking for a reason—any reason—to do it. I don’t think it was avoidable.” I’m worried about him. He doesn’t look well. Not that I do either with a giant gun-shaped, multi-colored bruise on my face. In contrast, Ethan’s face is deathly white. I’ve seen him muttering to himself and hyperventilating. He checks the door lock every few minutes. The average claustrophobic hates being in small, enclosed spaces—Ethan goes nuts by simply being locked in any space.

  “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but I need to take responsibility. Six people lost their lives because of me.” I’m not taking my current situation well but need to stay strong for Jared, Ethan, and Blake. I save my tears for my pillow at day in the privacy of my own room.

  “Well, technically they’re no longer dead. They’re here somewhere,” Ethan r
esponds. He’s on an adjacent chair and looks ready to call for help if Jared gets any more violent.

  “Sure, the zombie or shell versions of them are here, but it’s not really them if they can’t remember their lives. For instance, how can you learn from mistakes you’ve made if you don’t remember making them?”

  “What zombies?” my brother asks. He still doesn’t get it. I explain it all to him again. The Second Chancers. Daynighters. Recruits’ roles on Thera. Inverted days and nights. Cleaving. The Circle of Compliance, the Grand Council, and the Presiding Ten.

  When do they plan to start his training? Or are we his training? I hope not, though I’d be a whole lot more interesting than Video Dude. I’m careful to try not to color the facts with my personal interpretations. We’re being monitored. Any admission to things I shouldn’t know or “misrepresentation” of Theran doctrine could cause things to end badly. I already played the “Originals” card and admitted I knew they killed Leila. At some point, I’ll be called to explain my “wealth of knowledge” to Brad Darcton, and I prefer not to add things to what I have to rationalize.

  “The people who run this place are total quack-jobs,” my brother yells. “Certifiable. And they lock us up? I’ll tell you who needs some ‘me’ time. The Ten Assassins for their Circle of Compulsion or whatever it’s called.”

  I shake my head. The anti-psychotics didn’t help. Information’s not making a dent. I’ve got to figure out some way to get Jared to keep his opinions to himself or we’re all dead.

  “I’m not insane,” I tell the therapist. “Nor is my brother, or Ethan. We’re just…upset…over the deaths of our loved ones…and the roles we played in those deaths.” We’re in our nightly group brainwashing-centric therapy session, and I’ve decided we’ll never get released unless we redirect blame to ourselves. It is like a play-acting exercise from drama class, except I actually do blame myself. Each mind warp session lasts four hours, and we cover the same things over and over and over and over again. Presumably, we’ll continue to cover them until we get the answers “right” in the eyes of the Ten.

  “So, you understand that you are responsible for the incident which is causing you so much pain?” Lily, the silver-haired therapist asks.

  “Absolutely. I defied a direct order, and there are consequences when we don’t abide by the law,” I say. All true. It is my fault.

  “She is full of CRAP.” Jared stands and kicks his chair back behind him. “You are all full of crap!”

  “Jared, it isn’t your turn to share,” Lily says as if Jared is a misbehaving toddler. “Please pick up your chair and return to the circle.”

  “Lily, would you mind if I have one minute to speak with my brother in the kitchen? I think it might help, but I’ll leave the decision to you.” I try to be as pleasant, yet submissive, as possible.

  “One minute,” she says to me. “We want to keep our discussion on track.”

  I pull my brother from the dining area into the kitchen. To reach his ear, I have to get up on my tiptoes. When did he get so tall, and why hadn’t I noticed while I was at home? He is easily past six feet now. His tan and freckles are fading from the lack of sun.

  “You need to get your temper under control, Jared.” I reach up to steady myself by putting my hands on his shoulders. “They will keep us locked up forever—or worse, Exile or kill us if you can’t. If you want any hope of a relatively normal future, then you’ll get a grip.”

  “Sorry. You may be used to the whole ‘move to a different planet full of psychoapathetic killers thing,’ but I’m not,” he says in an angry, hushed tone. Did Jared stop his SAT prep classes when I left? Or did coming through the portal tweak his long-term memory? He just shouldn’t use big words. Unless he’s doing it on purpose to get on my nerves.

  “It’s not a planet full of psychopaths, I promise you. Just a bunch of normal people going about their lives. But the Garden City leaders do strictly enforce the rules. That, they’re quite up front about.” For the most part, I speak the truth. Other than forgetting their past on Earth, the Second Chancers live their lives as best as possible given their circumstances. It’s only those in charge who have redrawn the line between right and wrong.

  “They killed our parents and those girls.” He backs away from me and puts his hands on the back of his head. “How do I forget that?”

  “Our parents and those girls are alive—here on Thera,” I tell him. “I’m sure they’re fine. Happy even.”

  “Will I ever get to see them again?”

  “I don’t know. But if we don’t get out of here, then I can assure you we’ll never have the chance,” I say. I’m not as eager to see my parents as Jared is. It could be unwise to destroy my fantasy of a perfect “hereafter” for them.

  “I’ll try to do better,” he says, walking back to the living room calmly.

  I catch up and whisper in his ear, “Try harder. Because I can’t stand confinement another night.”

  After Jared shows restraint for a couple sessions, he’s allowed to start his official training. He still attends group therapy but spends the remainder of his non-sleeping hours learning Theran doctrine. Meanwhile, Ethan and I are going out of our minds. There’s only so much we can do within the confinement of our locked down home. I teach Ethan games from my childhood like charades and hide and seek to distract him. We garden, have cook-offs, do a lame aerobics routine since we’re gymless, read to each other, and sleep a lot. And, I do my fair share of crying behind closed doors for my failure to consider how my actions would affect my family.

  After stuffing ourselves with veal schnitzel that I cook and chocolate soufflé that Ethan makes, I excuse myself to my room to hide a pending mental breakdown. Within a few minutes, a knock at my door forces me to dry my tears on my pillowcase and answer.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” Ethan says. “But, I could tell you were upset and thought you might need a hug. And I know I could use one.”

  “I could” I let him join me on my bed, although I face away from him and let him hold me from behind. We both silently contemplate our situation for a while. Finally, I speak, turning to face him. “I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you and not fought coming back. I’ve made such a mess of everything. Even though I didn’t hold the guns, I pulled the triggers.”

  He takes my face in his hands. “It’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you. I’m just happy that you’re okay—that Jared’s okay,”

  “It is my fault, and now I’ve ruined your life. I assume the blonde girl they killed was the girl you spoke of at the party? The one you wanted to grow old with?”

  He shakes his head. “No, Kira, she wasn’t. Not even close. You haven’t ruined my life. Don’t ever think that.” He presses his forehead against mine and touches his nose to mine for a moment before pulling back.

  “Why were you dating her then?”

  “My girl’s been a little tied up, so I’m in a bit of a holding pattern. To be honest, I only took Sarah to a couple events my uncle was hosting. She’s the daughter of a colleague of his, and Sarah wanted those dates to turn into a relationship. I didn’t feel the same.” So Sarah was a bit of a stalker, and forever girl has been giving Ethan the brush-off. I feel terrible for him. What girl would keep a guy like Ethan waiting? Even if he is a Darcton.

  “Do you think we’re ever going to get out of here?”

  “We’ll definitely get out of here. You’re handling this…them…Jared…well,” he says.

  “They took more eggs from me,” I whisper.

  “Are you absolutely sure?” His blue eyes narrow.

  “Positive. Same process as before.”

  “They took a sperm sample from me during my ‘check-up’—they said they needed to test my reproductive system. It was the second time they’ve done it, in fact. That night you heard me at the clinic…that’s why I was there—for my routine reproductive system check.”

  “Great, looks like we’re going to have lab-produced bab
ies together too. Don’t they have any other high-DNT, Original-blooded girls to spread the joy of motherhood with?” I’d be more disturbed, but the fact is that I’m well beyond being surprised at the absurdity of the Ten’s actions. I bury my head in his chest, and he holds me tight. Despite our situation, I feel safe with Ethan. That hasn’t always been the case. It has taken a while for me to trust him, and I still have doubts. It’s hard to believe that he didn’t have anything to do with the Goodington explosion, and that he’s not an evil pawn but an unwilling pawn in the Ten’s terror games.

  “Somehow, everything’s going to work out. We have to believe that,” he says.

  I look up at him and wonder if he really thinks that or if he’s just trying to make me feel better. An absurd line of thought trickles through my brain as I wonder if my labies with Blake or Ethan will be cuter. I laugh out loud.

  “What? Are you mocking my optimism?”

  “No, no. Not at all. I’m just truly going bonkers. Don’t worry about me. Can I ask you something that I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while?”

  “Sure.”

  “How’d you get the scar on your chest?” I roll his shirt up and run my fingers across the scar and down the contours of his muscles despite knowing how intimate and inappropriate my action is.

  “I was born with a heart defect,” he tells me. “The doctors weren’t sure I’d live, but they were able to correct it with a bunch of surgeries.”

  “Oh, wow, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s long done with and fixed, although my parents continually remind me of my shortcoming.” He looks so sad. I can’t imagine having Brad Darcton as a father. “I think they…and others…are worried that it’s genetic, and that I may pass it on to my children. It makes me a less-than-appealing Cleaving candidate. So, I guess it’s a good thing I don’t live here full time.”

  “There’s absolutely nothing that could make you unappealing.” I mean it. He’s downright beautiful. We lock eyes, and I can see him melt at my compliment. I can’t believe that his parents have killed his self-esteem so much. His eyes drift to my lips, and I can’t help but drift my eyes to his.