Be careful, Zee tells me. The moment it comes in contact with skin other than yours, it will activate. Make sure you touch no one but him. That would be . . . tragic.
I won’t. Just remember your part.
Zee tugs at the lace around her waistline. Her pinned-up hair shows off her slender neck, which I now realize something’s missing from. Why don’t you have a tattooed number?
They removed it for this occasion.
I don’t get it. Why go through so much trouble to make you resemble Aby?
“Your washroom is now purified.” The OAI boy loads his few supplies onto a small rolling cart and heads toward the sliding door. “Have a nice evening.”
“You, too, 77S.” Zee waves.
He exits without a wave back.
To Lord Daumier, Zee says, it’s no trouble at all.
Then what is he afraid of?
Fear, although he enjoys instilling it, is not his main motivator.
Well . . . what is?
Control. He toys with the mind . . . plays God. With you, he seeks to push your mind to the brink of insanity until you can no longer differentiate the truth from the lies. Until your life is a living nightmare. I was to help with this task, especially if portions of your memory were to return. I was to tell you any pieces of your past you remembered were “dreamt up,” and you’d trust me, because I’m your sister.
The more I learn about him, the more I want to murder him in his sleep.
That would not be possible, nor would it be wise. She straightens strands of my hair, then circles around me, inspecting from head to toe. “Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.”
“Thank you.”
“We should get going.”
We don our tiny golden satchels, and Zee dabs last-minute powder onto our noses and cheeks before we leave Repair Room Six. The rain has subsided, with the scent of damp earth and greenery lingering in the air with a sticky humidity.
Doesn’t Lord Daumier sleep? I ask.
Little, and when he does, it is in a regenerative pod, where periodic updates of his mechanical modifications are run, tested, and programmed. The area is heavily guarded, and well hidden.
Together, we join the solemn mass of OAIs and human Pures who stride up the path toward the dining hall. Nervousness makes my stomach flutter, and I’m reminded of butterflies . . . of Sadie . . . Smudge . . . and perhaps her absence is the most unsettling, because . . . what if they reprogrammed her? What if she’ll never again be the Smudge I know? Even worse, what happens if she returns to her old self, to realize she’s murdered someone we all loved . . . ? I imagine her wandering the jungle alone, waiting to die, contemplating a dive into the river with the Teuridons. I may be scared for her the most.
When we get to the dining hall, the OAI man with the silver mustache opens the door for us. Programmed. We take our same seats as last time, while the others fill in the rest of the empty ones. A few minutes later, the door opens again to two red-clothed men with helmets, smoke lanterns swinging high on long poles. My insides burn like stirred coals in an oven. This had better work. I have one shot. Zero room for error. Story of my life.
Behind the men in red strides Lord Daumier dressed in a new robe—purple with white floral designs so bright, they almost glow. In one hand is the end of a chain, and attached to it, bloodied and mangled . . . is Mateo. My soul aches to free him, embrace and heal him, but I have to hold it together. I can’t let my emotions run this showdown. This bluff is vital to us both. I can’t save him from the pain and torture now, but I can be there with him in mind and heart until it’s time. I can give him hope, a spark in the dark. He’ll do that for me, too, and I need that fuel.
They approach, and I stand to curtsy how Zee showed me earlier in the bathroom. Lord Daumier extends his hand and I kiss the top, peeking at Mateo. Dried blood and dirt on his face appears to have been there for days. I guess certain things are okay non-purified, if it instills pure fear into the people.
Daumier ascends the steps to his own throne, where my boy in chains drops to his knees at the monster’s feet, vulnerable, wilted . . . ruined. It takes every bit of inner strength I have not to stare at him, and to keep my emotions at bay.
“Attention everyone.” Lord Daumier raises a hand to silence them. “I expect you all to be purified and prepared for tomorrow’s ceremony. Those who do not attend . . .” He laughs. “Well . . . you do not want to discover what happens to those who do not attend.”
You ready? I ask Zee.
Ready when you are.
I straighten in my seat and glare at Mateo. “Why are you staring at me?”
He shakes his head, frantic, and it breaks my heart. He pleads through the gag as Daumier motions to his red-clothed men. When they’re near enough, I rise from my chair. “Wait. Let me.” And I stride toward them with a subtle confidence, fueled by faux sadist lust. I adjust my lacy glove in a staged intimidation to hide the straightening of the device beneath it.
Mateo sobs, having lost every last sliver of his shattered pride at the hands of Daumier, his men . . . and me. I take the whip from one of them and embellish a slight stumble.
“Sister”—Zee rises from her chair and hurries over—“are you okay?”
“Fine.” I raise the whip, and Mateo shields himself. I sway, stagger to the side.
“Lily.” Zee lays a hand on my arm. “You should let them handle it. Your dizzy spells—”
“No!” I push her off of me and topple forward onto Mateo, pressing my palm firmly into his shoulder. He flinches, and I feel the pinch in my palm, a charge between us. Zero error. Then I shove him away, kick him, spit on him.
Zee steadies me. “Let’s have a seat, Lily. Your mind has been playing tricks. I’m certain the boy wasn’t looking at you.”
“Oh? How are you so certain?”
“Because. He was looking at me.” She winks. “We’ve had this discussion all too often in our young lives . . .”
Laughter and murmurs rise in the crowd, amused by this sudden turn of events. Lord Daumier sends the red-clothed OAIs to fall back to their respective corners, and I celebrate our silent victory as we return to our seats. The kitchen people exit the back room with trays and rolling carts, and my heart races. I take a deep breath and focus on him. Mateo, don’t be alarmed. It’s me, Joy. I’ve implanted a device in you that’ll allow us to communicate telepathically. It travels through the blood stream to the brain stem and implants itself. Concentrate on me and think a thought, and it’ll be transferred to me.
Silence.
Mateo, are you there?
Joy? . . . How—how does this work?
Mateo! My heart thumps a glorious song. Hearing his voice gives me strength, hope . . . I’m not sure how it works, but it does.
Oh my God, Joy . . . I love you so much . . . I thought I’d lost you forever.
You didn’t. I’m here, and we’re getting out of this place. All of us.
My sister . . . my poor baby sister . . . and the other little girls. They’re so scared, and I—I can’t do anything. I can’t save them.
A servant sets a silver tray down between Zee and myself and I try not to notice the creepy aquatic creature’s dead, gawking eyes. I nod to the servant boy, then pick up my knife and fork and saw a chunk of scaled flesh from its slimy body. Disgusting. I’d almost rather eat Tree Factory slop.
We’re going to save them, I say to Mateo. The girl they’re telling me is my sister? Her name’s Zee, and she’s on our side. An AOAI, like Smudge. She has a plan to help us escape. The first part is to make everyone believe the memory implant they inserted into my brain is operating correctly.
They didn’t—
Yes, but Zee stopped it, and gave me something to reverse its effects.
Where is Smudge, anyway? I haven’t seen her . . . or anyone else.
I don’
t know where Smudge is, but the rest are across the chasm, in the area for criminals and Impures—humans awaiting transfers. There’s a possibility she might be with them, though I doubt it. As far as I know, everyone’s still alive. I just hope . . . someone’s been taking care of Baby Lou.
I’m sure they have. They’d have to. It’d be a waste of a mind if they didn’t.
That’s true. I slice off another hunk of meat, willing myself to eat it.
Are you okay, Joy?
Yes . . . I’m all right. And Mateo . . . I’m so sorry I hurt you. I had to, I—
Don’t apologize. I understand. I’m the one who should be apologizing.
For what?
For not saving you from . . . from what that monster did to you.
He hurt you, too, and I did nothing! What could we do? Nothing . . .
You fell asleep, Mateo says, and he left me there, chained to that wall, alone with you, and all I could do was . . . pray it would all end soon, that we’d all be put out of our misery together. I wouldn’t want to die any other way.
I glance at him while I stuff another bite into my mouth. We don’t have a choice but to survive, okay?
That sounds familiar.
We’re getting out of here. All of us. Together.
A long silence passes before he answers. Okay, Joy. I trust you.
And Mateo? I love you, too. So, so much.
I believe you love someone else, too. But that’s okay, none of that matters right now.
I swallow the grotesque meat and set my utensil down. What do you mean?
Well . . . while I was watching you that night, you were talking in your sleep and . . . you said it.
What?
I love you, Jax. Forever.
Mateo’s words echo through my mind as Daumier dismisses everyone. With his smoke canister wielding men before him, Daumier rolls from the dining hall, yanking Mateo along behind him. My head’s heavy and warm.
Zee leans close. “Are you all right? You’re flushed.”
“I need to lie down.”
She dabs her lips with the cloth napkin, then places it onto the table and rises from her chair. “Yes, you should rest.” She circles around to my side to help me up, eyeing my temple. Despite her warning, I focus on visualizing Mateo while thinking his name, and the thought brings with it a hot, throbbing pain.
I’m here, his voice drifts through it.
Until my head stops pounding, I won’t be able to telespeak, I say. For a while. But please, if you really need me, I’m here.
Okay, Joy. Will you tell me the plan later?
Yes, after Zee explains it to me. The agony in my skull intensifies, and I cringe, cradling it in my hands. I’ll talk to you soon. I promise.
Be safe.
“You, too,” I almost think, but that’s the most ridiculous thing I could say, considering he’s chained to Lord Daumier.
Zee steadies me on our trip back to Repair Room Six, where a human doctor stands near the door, reading on a handheld device. She raises her head, and my heart stops. Doctor Sullivan from Zentao.
She gives my face a split second’s glance before turning to Zee. “Nurse Suellen is very ill. Could she have eaten something that made her sick, do you think?”
Zee pretends to contemplate the question, crinkling her brow in thought. “Well, just the usual tea from Maudine’s. Nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps one of the new Impures brought in an illness . . . ?”
Doctor Sullivan bites her thumbnail. “Hmm . . . I’ll check on that.” She taps onto the small square in her palm. “She won’t be back tonight. Tomorrow, either, though I’ll make sure she attends the ceremony.” She peers up at Zee. “Will you be all right taking care of your sister?”
“Oh, yes, we’ll be fine. Lily’s about to lie down. She’s a bit tired.”
Doctor Sullivan moves from the doorway, and Zee escorts me into the room. “All right, then. You two have a pleasant evening.”
“You, too,” says Zee.
I clamp my jaw shut, afraid I might say something I shouldn’t.
We enter and the lights flick on by themselves while the door closes behind us. Zee helps me into some nightclothes, and into bed. She brings me a cup of water, which I gulp down. I’m so thirsty.
“I’ve blocked reception for one minute only,” she says, “so listen carefully—”
I grab her arm. “That’s Doctor Sullivan. I remember her from Zentao.”
“I . . . am not surprised. She’s a very loyal follower.”
“She’s a lying traitor.”
“Many of them are, I’m afraid.” She crouches beside me. “Now, I’ll return around midnight, after everyone else is asleep and I’ve gathered the needed supplies. But for now, rest your mind. A lot is happening in your brain; overuse of the telespeak devices can be damaging, or cause severe migraine. So try to sleep and I’ll be back later, all right?”
“Okay.”
“Unblocking reception now.” She glances at a small, black box on the wall, then at me. “You have a good night’s rest, Lily.” She winks. “Tomorrow’s the big day! I’ll be by early to take you to Maudine’s, then on to Claudette’s. Lots of preparations, so get plenty of good rest.” She leans in to kiss my forehead.
“Thank you, Aby,” I whisper.
She pats my hand, then pulls the covers up to my chin. “You’re very welcome. What are sisters for?”
After Zee leaves and for the next few hours, I doze in and out of sleep, fighting the urge to telespeak with Mateo. His silence must mean he’s doing okay . . . though something nagging says he might be silent for other reasons. And this keeps drawing my attention to the window. A flickering row of torches lines the other side of the chasm—where my Baby Lou is, along with the rest of the people I love. They’re scared. Alone.
Whatever Zee’s plan is, I hope it’s a solid one.
From 11:43 until 12:11, I watch the red numbers on the clock, then I worry that Zee won’t show. No sooner have I thought it, though, does the door slide open and a figure dressed in dark clothing slips in.
“Zee? Is that you?”
“Shh . . .” She lays a black-gloved finger to her lips, and I see it in the glow from the window. She tosses a cloth bag into my lap. “Put it on—quickly.”
I remove a set of black garments, complete with headscarf and gloves, shed my clothes, then stuff them into the bag to hide them. My heart pounds as I dress. “What about shoes?”
She lifts a bare foot, wiggles her toes. “It’s easier to be quiet this way.”
I tie the scarf around my head and don the gloves, breathing slow and steady to calm my raging nerves.
“You ready?” Zee asks.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go.” She heads toward the back of the room.
“Where are you going?”
She lifts a hand, and a second later, a section of the wall shifts to reveal a passageway trimmed with blue lights. “This way.”
I swallow down the familiar spike of adrenaline in my throat, while my palms begin to sweat inside my gloves. “W-why is this here?” I peer down the long, dim hallway.
“Repair Rooms Five and Six both have entrances to the secret labs. These rooms are specifically for . . . embryo and infant extraction. That’s why I knew there was a great possibility they might’ve taken . . .” She shakes her head, tossing away an evil. “Anyway . . . we’ll encounter some OAI guards, but I’ve blocked their visual perception with a ninety-minute loop of the area around them before we arrived. Also, all other sensory perceptions—smell, touch, hearing—which will enable us to move by them without being noticed.”
“How did you do all of that? I’m not sure if Smudge could even do that much.”
“I am . . . upgraded.” And with a sadness on her face, she takes my arm. “Come on.�
��
We walk into the hallway, and the wall slides back closed behind us.
“Why’d you get sad just now?”
“It’s . . . nothing.”
“Tell me, please.”
She leads me down the dim hallway, past metallic doors that shine silvery-blue beneath the lights. “The old model AOAIs . . .”
“What about them?”
“If they’re found, they’re . . . euthanized.”
“What does that mean?”
“Killed. Most of the time, they’re beheaded and tossed into the pit of the Lesser Impure Souls and left to rot. Lord Daumier often stands at its edge, admiring the decay.”
“Oh my—you’re serious?”
“Yes. He is a sick man.”
“Do you think . . . Smudge . . . ?” My insides ache with fear. Through all of this, she’s been my stronghold, my comfort, my security. She was a stranger who became an unlikely true friend . . . a sister.
“Let’s hope not.” She points a few doors down where an OAI girl stands at attention. We pass by her, yet she doesn’t register our presence, so I relax a little.
Two more ahead, Zee says.
The closer we get, the more I begin to sweat, and fierce adrenaline pumps through me, making me light-headed. Zee stops in front of one, reaches around him to press a button by the door. It opens, and we slip into the dark room. She removes a glove and holds her hand high, fingers lit, to illuminate the area. Along the walls stand lockers with metal doors. She clicks a button on the first one, it slides open with a whoosh, and she shines her light in.
I lift a bag and check beneath it. None of these items are familiar. I shake my head and we move on to the next, then the next, until we’re two-thirds of the way around the room. We peer inside the next one and the first thing I see is my daddy’s magic bag. We both gasp as I snatch it up and unsnap it. From what I can see, everything’s still here—the branch of Dahli, Aby’s stuff, my daddy’s gloves, his pack of playing cards with the missing Ace of Spades, and the rest of his magic stuff, minus the book. Even my parents’ rings, and the ring Mr. Tanner gave me, plus the U-shaped scrap metal bracelet I made for my mother. I can’t wait to slip it onto my wrist, where it belongs.
The Soultakers (The Treemakers Trilogy Book 2) Page 21
