by Stacey Nash
“Theras’ vision was to guide mankind in peaceful prosperity. Who can tell me what that means?”
A girl in the front row shoots her hand into the air.
“Kali?”
“Socrai, we are the guardians of society and, with the tools we have been given, we are the ones chosen to shape the past, present and future of this world.”
“And how does that come into play in today’s society?”
“We guide the future of society by ensuring events flow in a peaceful way using the tech passed down to us by our ancestors,” Kali says. “We do this without society’s knowledge of our existence or our guidance.”
The teacher nods, a proud smile on her face. “I’d like to open the floor for discussion. Do you agree with Theras’ vision or do you think there is a better way?” She looks around the room, passing over me to land on Cynnie. “Cynisca?”
Cynnie looks to the front, and her voice doesn’t waver. “Socrai, I don’t see why we have to keep the rest of mankind in the dark as to our existence. We should openly guide society. Why give them the illusion of free choice?”
The blond guy from training spins around to face Cynnie. “I agree. Why bother maintaining an illusion? There’s no point. We control them and they need it. That’s the bottom line.”
Cynnie nods as she exchanges a small smile with Blondie. “But it’s only the illusion of freedom with the reality of control, Xane. We should give them the tools to actually have the freedom to guide themselves.”
Another voice comes from the front of the class, a boy. “It would be outright chaos. It’d end up a killing, hating mess with every man wanting control. Ignorance is bliss, I say.”
The teacher looks from Blondie to Cynnie to the new speaker with a finger on her chin. “Good points from all of you. This is the age old debate undertaken by many of the patriarchal councils.” She pauses. “Would someone like to further it?”
I frown. What exactly are they talking about? It sounds political, maybe. What they’re saying is kind of … scary. Controlling all the people in the world, maybe? A bad taste floods my mouth and I glance to the far side of the room where Joshua sits in the back row, leaning back in his chair, legs stretched out under the desk. He twirls a pen on his fingertip, seemingly paying no attention to the debate. His face set in a barely-masked grimace. I wonder what his take on this issue is, whether he’s for or against or maybe something else. His fingers twirl expertly, round and round the pen. He looks up, toward me, and I look away quickly, my cheeks heating.
Silence fills the classroom for several minutes while the teacher, or Socrai as they’ve been calling her, glances from face to face. Finally, Cynnie raises her hand. The teacher nods.
“Socrai, I think we should be openly engaging, educating, and improving their knowledge. We should raise them to be better people.”
The kid in the front row speaks again without bothering to turn and face Cynnie. “Why pander to these people that aren’t worthy of the benefits we bestow on them?”
There’s a small pause while no one makes eye contact with the teacher. I wish I knew what they were talking about. Whatever it is, it sounds like a dictatorship and I think I agree with Cynnie.
“Aren’t worthy? Aren’t we the ones who kill hundreds of thousands of them off each year in the name of the greater good?” Cynnie declares, her voice half an octave higher than normal.
“It is essential that we sacrifice a few lives to save many,” he says.
The teacher nods. “Good point. You’ve brought us to the reason we manipulate the flow of events.” She pauses. “Can anyone think of an example of when this may have happened?”
The same girl in the front raises her arm again, waving her hand in the air. I can imagine the words running through her head: pick me, pick me, pick me. She must be relieved when the teacher indicates she should talk with a small nod.
“Socrai, what they call World War Two. We instigated this war to drive the production boom here in the United States of America. Without the war, the world would still be gripped by a great depression and many more people would have fallen victim to its hardship. Also, society would have turned on itself when things got desperate.”
And now I’m totally lost. Wars, production boom, depression; it kind of makes sense, but why would they drive something like war? No matter what this girl says, it just doesn’t seem right. And what is, or rather was, world war two anyway?
A wide grin spreads across Socrai’s face. “Well done, Kali. So you can see that what we do is for the greater good.”
The girl nods, and so does almost the whole class. I sneak glance a sidelong at Cynnie, who’s scowling at her blue screen.
“On that note I think we can close this discussion. These are both worthy and valued opinions. Over the years the patriarchs of each era have modified their actions based on their beliefs, but always with respect and knowledge of the Founders’ vision.” Socrai moves back to her desk at the front of the room. “Continue researching the Founders. Tomorrow, I want to know who you admire and why.”
The room buzzes as people turn to talk to one another. Screens flick off and shut down, the blue screens shifting to black and fading into the shiny desks. Staring at mine I wonder how to turn it off then glance at Cynnie straining to hear what word is making them close. She notices my attention then says a little louder than needed, “Close screen.”
Her screen fades into her desk too. I give her a small smile and turn to my desk. “Close screen.”
The blue screen zips to a thin horizontal line and then fades back to a polished timber desk. Around me, people chat in small groups while others walk out of the door. I glance across at Joshua’s desk and feel a little pang of disappointment. His seat is empty. He’s no longer in the classroom.
“Come on, let’s get you to Nik,” Cynnie says.
I roll my eyes, thinking of this morning. Best not to keep the Prince of Promptness waiting or he might go without me. My stomach churns a little at the thought of going back to that house with its luxurious hallways, massive lonely room, and the skinny woman who seems to hate me. It’s sure to be a long afternoon.
Cynnie smiles as we walk out of the classroom. Perfect idea.
“Do you want to come over this afternoon?”
Her eyes widen as she blanches. “Ah, I don’t think I’d be welcome.”
Oh. My hopes drop. I guess I have Nik, but I don’t feel comfortable with him, not like I do with Cynnie. Enough to maybe let her know it’s more than just losing the last few weeks … I’ve got no idea who I am.
“Why?” I ask.
“They’re a patriarchal family.” looks at the ground. “It’s a great honor for you to stay with them. You must show amazing promise for Councilor Manvyke to personally take you in.”
It might be a great honor if I could remember who or what that means. I swallow the unease in my belly. I can trust Cynnie and if she says it’s an honor, it must be, but I wish I could remember. Remember everything before I woke. Just how much is missing, I wonder.
I take a deep breath of cool air as we cross the courtyard. “Cynnie, how long have I been here?”
“Only a few days.”
“So should I remember anyone?”
“Only really the councilor and Nik,” she says. “The Australian Collective Community is so far away, so isolated, that we don’t mix with them very often. It makes sense that you don’t know anyone from here.”
“Australia?”
She shoots me an incredulous look. “Oh my, Anamae, I know it’s amnesia or something like that, but have you really lost so much that you don’t remember which community you came from?”
I don’t answer.
She frowns and tugs on a loose curl drooping by her ear. “Maybe I should take you back to the infirmary.” Her brows rise and she plunges her hand into her bag. “I almost forgot. This is for you.” She holds out a small vial filled with pale-green, almost opaque liquid. “When I finished my sh
ift at the infirmary the hocrei asked me to pass it to you. She said you left without it.”
I take the vial from her outstretched hand, the liquid sloshing up the sides. “What do I do with this?”
“It’s medicine. You drink it.”
“Oh.” I close my hand around it as we come under the arch and walk toward where Nik and I arrived this morning. A few trees provide shade over a row of hexagonal disks standing upright in racks. Racks that curve from the ground like a row of giant black upside down U. A quick glance tells me Nik’s not here yet despite the crowd milling around, chatting loudly. I let out a relieved breath. Good, we beat him.
Cynnie announces, “He’s here.”
Nik is walking under the arch with another guy. He nods and they part ways as he veers off in our direction, scanning the group of kids. Cynnie gives my arm a small squeeze. “See you tomorrow.”
Nik saunters up beside me. “Where’s Joshua?”
“Joshua? How am I supposed to know?”
“If I have to wait around for him—” An irritated look flashes across Nik’s almost perfectly angular face.
“Settle down. I’m here.” A voice comes from the other side of the transport parking lot. Nik looks up, so do too, into the tree. A blur flips through the air backwards. It’s Joshua, and he lands squarely on his feet, a flat book-like box in his hand. He looks right at me and a smirk plays on his lips.
Something achingly familiar pangs inside me. It moves all the way to my heart and warms me from the inside out. I don’t know how, when, or why, but I am certain I know Joshua.
Act II
Found
Chapter Seven
Will
Beau glares at me across his oak desk, his face a few shades redder than it should be. Lilly’s walked in behind me, I can sense her hovering in the doorway, but I don’t turn around. I keep my eyes right on Beau, boring them into his soul. The man needs to see sense.
“We have to do something,” I say.
“We’ve been over this before, Will. We’re not prepared.” Beau runs a hand through his black-grey hair.
“How prepared do you want to be? We can’t sit around waiting forever. They’ve already had her for a week.” I plant my fists on his desk and lean in.
“We don’t know they have her.”
“I saw an agent grab her arm and port out. How more certain do you need to be?”
Beau’s mustache twitches with his long sigh. He thumps his elbows on the desk and sinks his head into his hands. “Look, I know you want to get her back,” he says without raising his eyes to meet mine. “I want that too. But the reality is we need a solid plan. We don’t even know where they took them—”
“Don’t know where … Come on, Beau. It’s not calculus or physics. If it were Lilly they’d taken, you would have kicked down their front door within the hour.”
I’ve had enough of his stalling. Solid plan or not, I don’t get why the heck he wants to wait. Surely by now he should have a damn solid plan. Every day, every hour, every minute they have her is like skin being ripped from my chest.
He looks up, face pale. “That’s not true.”
We both know it is.
He’s stalling because it’s a risk, going in, getting her out. It’s dangerous and he knows it. But I’m right, if it were Lilly, nothing would be too dangerous. Just because it’s Mae and his heart strings aren’t twanging, we can wait for his solid plan. Ass. Thing is, it’s not just Mae.
“And what about Jax? Don’t you care about him, either?”
His eyes widen and mouth snaps into a thin line. It looks like my words hit home. Good. I have to make him act. If not, it might be too late.
“You know how badly they hurt us, Will. We lost a great deal in that raid.” His eye blaze, and a small vein is popping on his neck. “I care about every single person we lost. These people are my family, and we will get them back.” He rises from the desk and plants his hands on it, looking me right in the eye. For a moment, it feels like he’s trying to stare me down, and maybe he is. I glare back at him, unflinching. “But right now I have to find the best plan so we don’t lose anyone else.”
He is frickin’ stalling. Again. Yes, we might lose someone else if we wait another week, acting with all the goddamn knowledge and a perfect plan. But then we could act today and lose no one. So why wait? Why wait when they could kill her—them—at any time?
I stalk out of the room, flinging the door shut. It slams hard, rattling the wall and shaking the floor underfoot. Ever since she’s been gone, it’s like a part of me is missing, replaced with a too tight twisted knot.
The sound of my feet hitting the wooden floor echoes down the hall as I bolt straight out the back door. How can he let another day go by knowing they have her, have Jax, and not do a damn thing? They could be torturing her like they did Al, or she might even be dead.
I have to keep moving to stop that dumbass thought. I sprint through the meadow, the long grass whipping against my thighs. A searing heat spreads through my legs and my lungs burn as I push myself to the limit, running as fast as I can, down the slope to the faded barn.
I toss myself at the closed doors, shoving them open to crash against the wooden wall. With my sights set on a thick wooden training stick, I head straight to the weapons wall. I wrench the practice tool down and take to the canvas bag. Bringing the stick up high on my left side, I thwack the crap out of Sam’s makeshift punching bag. I pull it back again and throw all my strength behind my blow. Over and over, the stick makes a loud crack as it hits.
It’s my fault.
Holding nothing back, I hit it again. The bag swings through the air, momentum flying it back. Why wasn’t I watching her, helping her, keeping her close? I let that agent get between us and now she’s gone. Taken, and it’s all my fault. I can only hope Jax is protecting her while I can’t. The stick falls from my hands and I beat the hell out of the bag with my bare fists. I punch and punch and punch again until my knuckles hurt. The sting feels damn good.
Finally my arms drop to my sides and my breaths come hot and fast. In and out, burning as I suck them down my aching throat. I sink to my knees and swallow against the hard lump, feeling empty, beaten, lost.
Suddenly beat, my eyes slide closed, tired as if I haven’t slept for three days.
I haven’t.
Long moments pass, and I sit there unable to think. Not of her, my mistake or anything else. After awhile a warm pressure touches my back and moves in a circle round it. An arm slips around my shoulders but I don’t raise my head.
“Oh, Will,” Lilly says.
I scrunch my eyes tighter. The barn was empty; I’m not sure how much she saw, if anything. “He won’t do anything,” I say, the lump in my throat huge and painful. “We have to help her. I mean … Help them.”
She sinks to the floor beside me and her eyes look as tired as mine. Dark rings underneath, and her face is long, no trace of her usual smile.
“If we wait for him to get his ’plan’ together it could be too late,” I say. “Who knows how long it will take? Every damn minute they have her is a minute too long.”
She continues rubbing my back. To comfort me or her I’m not sure. “I know, but what can we do?”
I shrug.
“At least they’re together.”
A million ideas and plans have already pounded through my mind. Some of them over and over, but I’ve thought each one through, analyzing them until I’m certain none will work. A sigh weaves from me. “I just don’t know.”
Lilly shakes her head. “Why would they want her anyway? Jax I get … but Mae?” She frowns. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know. I hope it’s not because she blackmailed Manvyke or by now she’ll be—”
“Don’t say it.”
The square mats across the room … Her favorite place to train. She couldn’t best me, but I saw her flip Lilly and even Jax onto their backs so many times. She can’t be … I’d know. If she wer
en’t alive, I think there’d be a gaping hole of nothing in place of this pain.
Lilly’s hand stills. “They have to be either prisoners at the council building or somewhere in the Collective community.”
She’s right, and that’s what I wish Beau could see. Two places, two possibilities. Only two options where they could be. “My bet’s on the community. They wouldn’t take them to the council building after we broke Al and Bertie out.”
“We know where both are. Why don’t we check them out?” Lilly draws her hand from my back and drops it in her lap. “I have scanner duty tonight.”
“Do you know the coordinates?”
“Umm … no.”
“I think I can find it from Al’s shop. That’s where we left from when we rescued Mae’s Dad.”
“When?”
“Now.”
She puts her hand on mine and gives a gentle squeeze topped with a sad smile. “Will, it’s ten in the morning.”
“I can’t wait, Lil. Not any longer.” I swallow as I glance away.
“We need the cover of darkness,” she says.
“We need to go now.”
“You’re normally the reasonable one. Think with your head, Will, not your heart.”
She’s right. But my heart’s throbbing like hell, leaving no room for my head. I’ve got to focus on thinking, planning, scheming.
“Come on, we’ll grab the surveillance gear from Marcus’s store. We can get ready to scope the place out after nightfall.”
“Surveillance?”
“Just tell Marcus what we’re doing. He’ll give you what we need.”
Heaving myself onto my feet, my heart aches a little less. It feels good to make a move forward even if it’s not just yet. We will find her and I will bring her home.
I leave the barn behind me and the scraped skin on my knuckles stings as they swing through the air. I head straight for the workshop where I spent hours and days tinkering with tech before this nightmare began. Searching for a way to techify the crappy lemon, as Mae calls my car. The memory of her voice, face, and smile …
