What Tomorrow May Bring

by Tony Bertauski

  I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around. Guess who is better at playing Where’s Waldo than I am? My heart starts thumping wildly.

  “Ethan,” I say and give him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek, noting he’s not as scruffy as usual. We’re both slow to let go, and I know I spend a few seconds too long staring at his lips which he most definitely notices. “I was hoping I’d see you tonight. You haven’t come by even once. I’ve been going through major withdrawal.”

  “I thought you’d be sick of me after being around me twenty-four seven for weeks and that you’d want the time with Blake. Where is he?”

  “He went to find a bathroom or something, but I’m not sure he’ll ever be able to find his way back in this crowd.” I watch the hordes of people fill every gap in the makeshift arena.

  “Are things going okay with him?” I can tell he regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”

  “We’re friends. You can ask me anything.” As long as you don’t ask me to betray Blake or your girlfriend because you are too much of a temptation, and I really don’t want to be that girl. If my relationship with Blake was fake before—well, I can no longer say it is. It’s real, fights and all. What choice did I have after Blake declared his love for me? I felt obligated to return the sentiment, particularly since Ethan’s in love with someone else. I have to get over Ethan and fully commit to Blake. “It’s going okay.”

  “You look beautiful in that dress.” He changes the subject. “And it could even pass for something you’d find at the mall,” he adds with a whisper.

  “Thanks and yeah, shocking huh—patterns. You look pretty handsome yourself, College Boy.” I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks. It’s one of those awkward deals that can’t be avoided after two people have a “moment” and then try to retract it and just be friends. I’m really happy to see him. He has been on my mind a lot. I haven’t been having much fun lately. Plus, it’s hard to spend that much time with someone and then let go cold turkey. I want to look away, but I can’t take my eyes off his. Under the festive lighting of the plaza, the topaz sparkles in his eyes are more prominent than usual.

  “My dad’s on a roll,” he says, changing the subject again.

  “He’s quite the dynamic speaker. When he was introducing the rest of the Ten, did he mention another Darcton?”

  “Oh yeah, that’s my mom—Vienna Darcton.”

  “You never mentioned they both were members of the Ten,” I respond. Yikes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m not them—and you thought the worst of me already.” I’ve hurt his feelings, and I run my hand along his face to show him I’m sorry. He softens when I stare into his eyes and then down to his lips, and we’re back to uncomfortable, so he lightens things up. “So, what’s the deal with all the Cleaving? Did all those kids really turn eighteen at the same time?”

  “Nope.” I tell him about the partying and consequences, and then add, “I didn’t know about the pregnancies though. That’s a bit of a surprise.”

  “When did you say they Cleaved?” I can tell the math’s not working for him, either. He saw the same in-vitro information I did while we were back on Earth.

  “Not long enough for them to be pregnant already.”

  “Huh, you should ask them about it,” he says. “In the meantime though, since Blake’s probably lost in this crowd somewhere, why don’t we make a round of the booths and look for him? There’s free food and fun to be had. Or at least that’s what my dad announced.” I missed the part of his speech about food.

  “I am hungry.” Ethan takes my hand and leads me through the crowd.

  We get half way around the booths and still haven’t seen Blake. The booths are a mix of industry-sponsored informational stations and ladies who volunteered to bring their favorite meals in bulk to hand out as samples. I manage to eat a full meal, though I haven’t tasted anything to beat Ethan’s chocolate soufflé. We skip over a full section of booths aimed at small children and end up in the “Cleaving propaganda” section where we run into Tristan and Bri. Ethan drops my hand, probably thinking I don’t want to have to explain it. Too late. Bri definitely noticed.

  “Kira, you’re back.” Bri gives me a huge hug. She’s sporting her party look, her eyes a dark sea of eyeliner. “Where’s Blake? And hi, I’m Briella. We’ve met before, but you probably don’t remember,” she says to Ethan, outstretching her hand to shake his. She looks to Ethan, then to me, and back as if she’s trying to figure out how and why we are here together.

  “I remember. Nice to see you again,” Ethan responds. “I’m Ethan Darcton,” Ethan says to Tristan.

  “I’m Tristan. Bri and I are Cleaved.” As if we didn’t know. The comment, however, seems to be directed to Ethan. Tristan is marking Bri as his personal territory.

  “So where’d you say Blake was?” Bri glances at Ethan again, implied text being “Did you dump him for this hunk?” I can tell she wants me to explain why I was holding Ethan’s hand when I’m supposedly committed to Blake. How can I explain it? I shouldn’t have been, but I love the way Ethan strokes my hand while holding it and have missed that feeling since we got back to Thera.

  “Blake disappeared to find a bathroom and seems to have gotten lost, so Ethan has been helping me try to find him.” I’m starting to wonder if that’s where he really is. I thrust my hands in my pockets to wipe off some of the sweat, and I find an object in my left pocket. A watch. Blake’s watch. Where is he? Somewhere he doesn’t want to be tracked. You’re an idiot, Blake.

  “Huh, we haven’t seen him either,” Bri says.

  I don’t want them raising any alarms so I change the subject. “I guess congratulations are in order. Wow—Cleaved and pregnant. That’s…uh…just…uh…huge.” I try to imagine her nine months pregnant. She’ll barely turn eighteen by the time the baby’s born, being young for our class.

  “I know. It all happened so fast.” Yeah. Too fast. Ethan nudges me to tell me that’s my cue.

  “Fast is an understatement. Tell me about the whole Assisted Pregnancy thing. How’d that work?” I ask.

  “Well, a couple nights after our Cleaving we went in to the doctor, and they put the baby in,” she tells us.

  “Huh? I’m confused. How often had you been seeing the doctor before that?”

  “Well, almost every night for the month before. They’d put me on a few extra medications, but that was just because my thyroid was out of whack or something,” she explains.

  “When did they retrieve your eggs? I think I remember your friend that you introduced me to—Lara Stewart—she mentioned having a surgical procedure to get her eggs out. Did you have the same thing done?”

  She rubs her stomach. “What? No. I just had the one procedure, but they assured me that was all I needed. And obviously it worked because I’m pregnant. I’ve been having plenty of evening sickness to prove it.”

  I turn to Tristan and ask, “When did you give, uh, your contribution to your child’s DNA?”

  “Oh yeah, that happened the same night they put the baby in,” Tristan says. I shake my head. Obviously they’re clueless and will be no help to me. For all I know, the only assistance the doctors did was to take a syringe full of Tristan’s goods and insert it into Bri. It seems like a pretty huge coincidence that the timing would be right to get all the girls’ cycles aligned. Although, they’ve had them all on birth control, so it could be possible.

  “I haven’t seen Bailey around. What’s she up to?” I ask.

  “Blake didn’t tell you? She got Exiled. The night we were at Headquarters for our Cleaving, she apparently snuck off and got caught in some secret area. She totally missed out, though I’m pretty sure the only one she’d want to be Cleaved to is your boyfriend. She was super teebed and was all over him the night of the party.”

  “Huh, interesting,” I grimace. “No, Blake never mentioned it.” Why wouldn’t he tell me Bailey got Exiled? And that she’d been thro
wing herself at him at the party?

  “So, when did you get back exactly?” Bri asks.

  “A few nights ago,” I respond. “I would have stopped by but heard you guys were having ‘private time’ or something.”

  “Yeah, we’ve had a lot of private time,” Tristan says. I cringe. Whatever. That’s nothing new, apparently. Not that he remembers. Ethan rubs my back to calm my nerves. He knows better than anyone what these two did to me.

  “Where were you?” Bri pushes. “You just disappeared without saying goodbye to us. Blake was pretty freaked when he got back and you were gone.”

  “I’m really sorry about that.” I look to Ethan to help me out. He can spin some sort of story that’ll fly.

  “It’s my fault,” Ethan tells her. “I was working on this project for my dad that had this huge deadline. My dad told me I could pull Kira out of school to help me out. She didn’t want to leave, but it’s not like anyone can say no to my dad, right?”

  Both Tristan and Bri nod. They’re quite aware of who Brad Darcton is, and had they been asked, they’d have jumped without asking to say goodbye to friends too. “Oh yeah. I think Blake said something about you maybe being with Ethan.” Huh? Blake knew? How?

  Speaking of the literal devil. “Hello, Son. Kira,” says Brad Darcton. He appeared out of nowhere. I wonder how much he heard? His eyes are fiery and trained on me.

  “Hey, Dad. I was just explaining to Kira’s friends why she disappeared for so long and how much I appreciate you having her help me out on my project.”

  “Yes, Kira has been a huge help to the Second Chance Institute.” Brad smirks. “In fact, I wanted to discuss your work with you, Kira, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure,” I respond. Oh crap. He must have heard me interrogating them about their Assisted Pregnancies. I keep my face emotionless and avoid looking at Ethan who might invoke a reaction. My mother taught me well to control my emotions and bury them when necessary. Which on Thera—is all the time.

  “Can I join the two of you?” Ethan says, a stern glare affixed to his father.

  “Sorry, Son. I need to talk to Kira alone. I believe Councilman Hunt would like a word with you.” Brad gestures to a man a few feet away. To the others he says, “Please excuse us, and enjoy the festivities. And let me give you my personal congratulations on your pregnancy, Tristan and Briella.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Darcton,” they say in unison.

  “I think we’re past the pretenses now.” Brad pushes his glasses higher onto the crown of his nose. It took a few minutes to weave through the crowd, out the back of a booth, and to an empty bench overlooking the city canyon where we could talk. He removes a gun from a leg-holster and sets it on the bench, loosely pointed toward me. I guess he’d like me to take our conversation seriously.

  “Yes.” I study the face of Ethan’s father. He’s handsome for an older man. I don’t entirely see the resemblance to Ethan other than the dark hair. Ethan must have his mother’s general demeanor and physique. Brad has dark hazel eyes and is pencil thin compared to Ethan’s evenly toned body.

  “I’m pleased by the reports of your progress during therapy and am counting on you to maintain an objective view of your circumstances.” I simply nod. If he wants my opinions he’ll ask—and I’ll give him the version of the “truth” that he wants to hear.

  “Your brother isn’t adapting as well as you and Ethan,” he tells me. “So he’ll be remaining with us a while longer.”

  “Okay.” I’m not surprised that Jared is still being difficult.

  “You were very smart to play the Originals card to get Jared here. How’d you know about it? And how’d you guess his DNT would diminish if he came over as your parents did?”

  “You say we’re past the pretenses?” I ask. He nods. “Blake overheard a conversation that we were descendants of the true Originals and important to the future of Thera. And then Tristan read me the story of the Originals when I was recovering from the flash flood. I made an educated guess from there that our DNT was important—and perhaps not as potent if we came over as Second Chancers. Otherwise, why not just kill us?”

  “Why do you think you’re important to the future of Thera?” He avoids my comment about offing us.

  “Well, I assume you want more pure-descendant blood in your midst. I don’t know why. But given you’ve harvested my eggs twice now, my progeny must be important,” I say. If my bluntness surprises him, he doesn’t show it.

  “I believe the doctors told you they were removing lesions on your reproductive system,” he says, sitting a little more upright.

  “Let’s just say, that’s one of the first things I checked when I went home. It’s amazing what you can learn with internet access. So, what have become of my eggs?”

  “They’ve been put to excellent use.” He smiles widely. “In fact, the fruits of your labors were on stage tonight. Your friends are carrying your children.” Are you freaking kidding me? I knew something was off with the timing of their pregnancies, but this revelation shocks the crap out of me. Even though my insides are churning, I maintain an aloof appearance on the outside by digging my nails into my palms.

  “All the Cleaved couples are pregnant with my children? Forty babies?” I ask. “From what I read, doctors are lucky to get fifteen eggs during a retrieval. And, don’t doctors usually have to insert multiple embryos to get someone pregnant?”

  “We’ve had a lot more experience with Assisted Pregnancies on Thera and thus have much higher success rates with retrieval and implantation than our counterparts on Earth,” he says, beaming with pride.

  “I’m impressed. So, who’s the father of my children? Blake? Ethan? Or both?”

  “Ah. Excellent question.” After a long pause, he answers. “Both. Whereas you will uniquely be the Mother of New Thera, we have yet to decide who will win the role of Father. That may largely depend on you.”

  “How so?” I ask. Best to keep him talking. How will I ever explain to Blake that he has fathered half my children and Ethan has fathered the other half? Worse, how will he feel about our friends being used as permanent surrogates? Briella will birth and raise my child with Tristan. I have no words to describe how I feel about that. At least, nothing I’d say out loud.

  “There are two ways this can play out. One, you get your boyfriend, Blake, under control, Cleave him, and stay on Thera with your new extended family.” I see zero chance of getting Blake to agree to Plan A.

  “And the other option?”

  “You Cleave to Ethan. You’d be trained here on Thera, in the family business. You’d also be trained to be a Daynighter and politician’s wife. You would eventually return to Earth to help him move forward SCI interests there.” I’m not sure Ethan would be happy about plan B, since that would keep him from the girl he truly loves.

  “Interesting,” I say, my heart being tugged in two directions. “Which plan does the Ten prefer for me?” Hmmm, which of those do I prefer for me?

  “It’s undecided.” He rubs his chin. “I’m preparing you for either eventuality. Either way, you’ll have an important role in propagating SCI interests.” Ah, the Ten still hasn’t come to an agreement on my exact role, but they all agree I’m a permanent fixture in their plans.

  “When you say I need to get Blake under control, what do you mean by that?” I know very well where Blake’s allegiance lies, but I wonder how much, if anything, Brad Darcton knows. He shifts his head to the side and smiles.

  “Don’t insult me, Kira. I know Blake’s father well, or did before his Exile. I’ve tracked his whereabouts and the company he keeps since. I have strong evidence that Blake met with the Exilers during the time he was quote-unquote “lost” during the flash flood.”

  “I didn’t see him after he disappeared down the river. What evidence?” People like Brad Darcton like to hear themselves talk to show how smart they are, so tend to give away more than they should.

  Brad fiddles with his gun as he speaks. “He was treated
for severe sunburn with a silver paste that is a trademark cure concocted by an Exiler named Doctor Daryn. Most of it had been removed by choice or by the saltwater, but enough was left to prove he didn’t spend his entire time paddling ocean waters.”

  “Assuming you are correct, how can I affect Blake?”

  “He says he loves you. Wouldn’t he rather live out his life with his true love, than die fighting a battle that can’t be won? Surely, you could help him to see things more clearly.” As if. I have tried to persuade him to abandon his ideals for a chance at a life with me but have been entirely unsuccessful.

  “What happens should my clarity and his clarity fail to converge?”

  “Nothing good, I’m afraid—for Blake or the Exilers.” He shakes his head. “You see, I think people underestimate the strength of the Second Chance Institute, both here on Thera and on Earth. One might incorrectly assume we’re weak since our cities are small and spread apart. Our security force appears to be limited, and our only defense from outside attack seems to be the Eco barriers. I’m afraid those same people may delude themselves into thinking they could succeed in an attempt to overthrow or undermine our efforts. Unfortunately, we’ll be forced to reveal the full extent of our capabilities if, and when, attacked.” He could be bluffing. Or not. Probably not. They killed off an entire party full of kids to get me here. They executed my parents in front of me to get me back. Why would they be any less ruthless with the Exilers?

  “I can see your point.”

  “I’m afraid I need to get back to make an important announcement about a huge threat to our beloved city. We have intelligence that deranged Exilers have plans to harm our fair citizens. They need not fear, though, because their government will protect them.” So, this entire “celebration” has been a ruse to spread ill will about the Exilers—so that if, and when, they attack—sympathy will be with the SCI and not the Exilers. Smart on the Ten’s part. “But, before we convene, I have one more piece of advice for you.”