Violet

by Rae Thomas

My thoughts are interrupted when Gillis, the newspaper peddler, enters. He bounds across the room and plops down next to me on the couch. “Aha, so you’ve found us! I knew you’d follow my advice.” He picks up an orange from the table in between us. “These really are the juiciest oranges, though.”

  Arielle is the next to speak. “Wow, I just can’t believe it. Violet Price, right here talking to us!”

  “Violet Massassi is the name my father gave me. I’ve never known myself as Violet Price. I lost my memory after the explosion at the lab.”

  Arielle and Cecil exchange looks. For a moment, there is an awkward pause as no one is really sure what to say. I pull my father’s golden watch from my pocket, open the latch, and show the picture to them. “Did you know my mother? Her name was Tara. It was her tattoo of your symbol that led us here.”

  Arielle shakes her head sadly, but Cecil says, “I knew Tara. She was more dedicated to this cause than anyone I’ve ever known. Probably could’ve convinced the whole Sententia to listen to us if she just could’ve spoken to them. Tara had that way about her. When she spoke, people listened.

  “She had some radical ideas, though. Tara wasn’t just against Earth Banishment; she was ashamed of the way we all got to Cerno in the first place. She had this idea that we all owe the people living on Earth some type of restitution. She said the only way to make it right would be to give everyone on Earth the option to come here to live on Cerno. I thought your father’d die of a broken heart the day they loaded her onto that transport.”

  I do a mental double take at this last sentence. “Cecil, what do you mean? What transport? My mother was killed by disease.”

  Cecil looks taken aback. “Do you mean to say that no one’s told you what happened to Tara?”

  I stare at him blankly. I clutch my father’s pocket watch. I thought I knew. I suppose I’ll just add this to the rapidly growing list of things that no one told me.

  Cecil looks at me. He leans forward and speaks softly. “She died of disease, Violet, but she didn’t die here. She died on Earth.”

  I am too dismayed to respond. My mother was banished to Earth? My mother died a traitor? My lack of response assures Cecil that I do not know the details. David squeezes my hand.

  “Tara was not willing to be quiet to save herself from punishment. She knew that at some point she would probably be sentenced to Earth Banishment. That’s what happens to people who challenge The Sententia. She decided to use it to our benefit.

  “There are certain members of The Vox who are sympathetic to our cause. Rather than punish us, they’d prefer to reach a peaceful compromise. She used their sympathies to our advantage and figured out a system to communicate through them. When she was sent to Earth, Tara was prepared.

  “Earth Banishment is exactly what it sounds like. You are banished from Cerno, forced to live out what remains of your life on Earth. It doesn’t matter to The Sententia how long you live. It’s up to you to survive. You’re given enough food and water for three days. That’s how long it takes to journey to Amara from the drop off point. Beyond that, you’re on your own.”

  David interrupts. “Amara?”

  “When life on Earth began to wither away, when the trees in the jungles became mostly shadows of themselves, it became clear that there was one place that did not diminish. Many places on Earth are unlivable because there are not enough plants to create breathable air. There are a few places where forests still exist, but there is only one place where a seemingly untouched oasis can be found. The surviving people in that area have named it Amara. That’s their word for paradise.”

  Now I’m the one interrupting. “My father told me about that place. He said that it’s something of an anomaly.”

  “Your father was right. Amara has been tested hundreds of times; Claro scientists are interested in it because of its application in agricultural as well as global engineering. Your father must have done extensive research on the area as well as the culture. Especially since he named you Massassi.”

  I must look perplexed again, but Cecil does not grow impatient. “Massassi is a name from a tribal legend. In the story, Massassi is the first woman on Earth.”

  It’s a relief to have finally found someone who can give me answers, but I can’t help but feel renewed grief… Not just for the fact that my father is dead, but for the fact that even when he was alive, he never shared any of this with me. What other secrets has he kept?

  “Tara, though… Tara became a legend on her own. She assimilated into the tribal culture in Amara. The people trusted her. She learned the language and taught them about what had happened on Earth. She told them about Cerno and what she wanted to do. They even gave her a new name. They called her Adanech.”

  “Adanech.” I repeat the name softly to myself.

  “They saw her as a hero, Violet. It means ‘she has rescued them’. She even created a system to send some people back to Cerno. If one of our Vox allies was working the transport on a particular day, Tara would orchestrate the safe return of some of The Third Stone members who were banished. She couldn’t save them all, but she did what she could. She never came back herself, though; she was truly committed to the cause.”

  I clutch my mother’s photo to my chest. I feel overwhelming pride for my mother and the woman that she was, but my pride is tainted with selfish thoughts. I never even got to know her. I was a child when she left. From what Cecil says, she anticipated being sent to Earth. She knew that it would happen but still didn’t stop. She had unyielding passion for her cause, but now I finally understand the anger that Elena felt. Why couldn’t my mother have left the fight to someone else, someone who didn’t have a child at home? When people describe the love of a mother, they say that she would stop at nothing to protect her child. My mother left me willingly. Even later, when she had the means and opportunity to return, she declined. She had found her place.

  I release my grip on the pocket watch and allow it to fall to the floor. David leans over to pick it up, but I stop him. “Leave it.” I can’t bring myself to pick it up. I can’t bring myself to carry her around with me when she left me so freely.

  Arielle touches my arm and says softly, “She never stopped thinking about you, Violet. She just couldn’t keep herself from fighting for people who had been forgotten.” I do not respond. I am ashamed, but I allow myself to feel the bitter anger of desertion. My mother had seen only what she would do for mankind without thinking of how it would affect the family she left behind.

  I wait a moment to compose myself, then I stand and turn to Cecil and Arielle. “I’d like to go to sleep now.”

  Arielle wordlessly leads David and me through several more stone chambers until we reach one without another doorway on the other side. “You two can stay here tonight. The bathroom is right next door. I’m the first door on the other side of the bathroom if you need me.” And then she is gone.

  There is only one bed in this room, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers. Besides, we’d slept on a wooden floor together; we’d slept in a moldy pile of bed sheets together. I’m too tired to think about what this means and whether or not David is okay with it.

  I climb into the bed. It feels like heaven to be sleeping in a real bed again, even if it is a little musty. When David climbs in, he snuggles up close and puts his arms around me. He leans down and kisses me on the back of the neck. I guess he’s okay with it. I am just on the edge of sleep when I feel David’s body jolt. Suddenly I am not sleepy anymore.

  I hear a scuffle. I hear what sounds like a fist connecting with flesh. I hear the sounds of a man who’s just been hit. By the time I can figure out what’s going on, I hear David’s voice. At least he’s all right, but I’m disturbed when I hear someone else’s labored breathing. There is another man in this room. David is breathing heavily when he says, “Violet. Light the lamp.” I swing my feet over the side of the bed and rush across the room to the lamp. I turn the dial and light it. When the flame has caught, I pick up the
lamp and walk toward the direction of the breathing.

  In the faint glow of the single flame, I see that David has a man pinned up against the stone wall in our chamber. As I get closer, I see that the man is Ezra. Blood is flowing freely from what is probably a broken nose. David’s hand is around Ezra’s throat and his fist is raised, ready to hit him again if need be.

  Ezra is the first to speak. He’s holding up his hands as if to say that he is unarmed. “I’m sorry that I scared you; I didn’t want to wake anyone else on the hall.”

  David pulls his fist back sharply and Ezra flinches. “What do you want?” he demands.

  “There’s something that you need to see.”

  Twelve

  Now Ezra holds the lamp as he leads the way down the dark hall. David is in front of me, ready to strike if the necessity presents itself. We are not entirely sure where we are going, and we are not entirely sure that Ezra is to be trusted.

  When we reach the end of the hall, instead of turning left and entering the common room, Ezra turns to the right to face the stone wall. He reaches up and unscrews the bottom of the lamp that is attached to the wall above his head. This is a hidden key. The bottom of the lamp is embossed with the symbol, and Ezra presses it into an indentation in the stone. Immediately, a section of the wall recedes. Then, this section slides to the right behind the rest of the wall, revealing another hallway. We follow Ezra inside.

  “What is this place?” David asks suspiciously. It is obvious that this hallway is not commonly traveled by many; webs hang between the unlit wall lamps and the stone, and a layer of dust coats everything.

  Ezra turns around and places his index finger to his lips, motioning for us to be silent. Then, he sets the lamp down on the stone floor, using the key to reseal the door behind us. Any other time, I might be alarmed about the fact that Ezra, a man who snuck into our room in the dark while we were sleeping, holds the only key that can open the door to the main hallway. However, my attention is somewhere else—the lamp that Ezra placed on the floor is lighting our section of the hallway, and I cannot help but notice that there is another set of footprints in the dust.

  I want to ask Ezra who lives down here, but I am afraid of betraying our position in what is most certainly a forbidden area. Ezra wants to show me something. I remember the conversation that I overheard between Ezra and Eli. It’s not his right to keep it from her…

  What is he keeping down here?

  Ezra stands up and we continue moving down the hallway. After about twenty feet, he turns and leads us into a chamber. This chamber, like everything else that we’ve seen down here, is made of stone. A lab coat hangs on a hook beside a metallic door. Ezra lifts a small slab of stone hinged to the rest of the wall, uncovering a hidden panel. He flips a large switch, turns it halfway, then presses the switch back into place. The metallic door slides open to reveal a stark white room.

  The room has the antiseptic feel of a hospital room. A sink, a mirror, a desk and chair all occupy the space immediately to our left as we enter. In the center of the room, a dividing curtain hangs. It has been drawn halfway, so that one quarter of the room is hidden from our view. My pulse quickens as Ezra steps toward the curtain.

  Despite my anticipation of this moment, I find myself dreading it. Maybe I’m not ready to see whatever it is. “Ezra…”

  He continues moving toward the curtain. He lifts his hand to grasp the edge of it. “Try not to scream.”

  Ezra begins to draw the curtain aside. I feel lightheaded; it’s as if everything is happening in slow motion. I see the end of a bed. Then, I see the lumps made by the feet of someone lying under the blanket. Knees, thighs, torso, and finally, a face. My blood runs cold when I see the face. Creamy skin, dark hair, heavy lashes. It’s me.

  No. No, this cannot be me. What then? A twin? A sister that I never knew? Some kind of clone? Suddenly, I feel dizzy. I take a step back and reach out to steady myself on a cart used for storing medical instruments; the cart is on wheels and it begins to roll away. As I fall, I knock the tray full of surgical tools onto the floor. The last thing I am aware of as I close my eyes is David catching me before I hit the floor. David laying my head in his lap. David’s voice. “Violet…”

  * * *

  I am walking the hallways of my father’s lab. Not the lab he works in for The Vox, but his private lab named after my mother. I’m here to surprise him. Today is the anniversary of his first rotation. He does not like to do much celebrating. Even when my mother was still here, we had to force him just to acknowledge the milestone.

  Well, today is going to be different. I’ve got a very special gift that I cannot wait to give him; I know that it will suit his tastes perfectly. I actually think I might be more excited about his anniversary than he is.

  I draw the gold pocket watch from my coat pocket to look at it again. Perfectly crafted. I found it in a shop that specializes in antique look-alikes. My father loves these remnants of another time. Most people today use holograms or at least digital dials to keep track of the time, but I’ve seen my father admiring watches like these. I even found an old picture of my mother from when they were young and put it inside the front cover of the watch. It will probably make him sad at first, but I hope it will make him feel like she’s close. I close the cover and place the watch back in my pocket.

  I leap around the corner and through the door to my father’s personal office in the hopes of surprising him at his desk. Arms spread, I jump in and yell, “Plentiful Rotations!” It takes me a moment to realize that he’s not in here. Oh, well. I’ll wait for him to return. He should be preparing to leave for the day anyway.

  Even though today is special, I don’t want to rush him out. He doesn’t get to work here at his personal lab much anymore. Until recently, senior scientists in the Claro like my father were allowed to have personal lab space and side projects, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work for The Vox, and as long as any significant findings were given to The Alter in case they should be kept classified. However, all of that changed a few weeks ago when one of the other scientists disappeared with some extremely valuable technology. Nothing like this has ever happened before, so the entire headquarters is in a bit of an uproar. That’s why I especially want my father to have an evening to relax.

  In an effort to put him in good spirits after a hectic day, I decide to sit behind his desk so he’ll be amused when he finds me. I take a seat in his chair and hold up a copy of a news scan and pretend to read. No, I have a better idea. I lean back in the chair and prop my feet up on his desk, crossing my ankles. I see some dirt fall off of my shoe and think better of it; I don’t want to mess up any important documents. I pull my feet down from the desk and a stack of paper comes with them. Oh, great. I get down on the floor and scramble to gather the papers before my father comes in. I scoot under his desk to retrieve the last sheet; it has become caught on the corner of an uneven tile.

  I shift my weight to free the sheet of paper, and the uneven tile wobbles. I press the corner of the tile, and I realize that it is not attached to the floor. Again, I press down on the corner, but I hold it down and lift the tile from the raised corner on the opposite side. There is a hollow space here. I stick my hand into the space and draw out an object that has been wrapped in a soft animal-skin cloth. I replace the tile and scoot back out from under the desk, again taking a seat in my father’s chair.

  I know that I shouldn’t be meddling; anything that my father has hidden has been hidden for a purpose, but for some reason I just can’t curb my curiosity. I look up at the door. I strain to hear footsteps in the hallway. No, I don’t think anyone’s approaching. Slowly, carefully, I begin to unwrap the object. I unfold the animal skin until it’s lying flat in my palm. The object is… Well, I’m not sure what it is. Bluish-grey. The color calls to mind the sky just before a storm begins. It’s smooth on one side but the other sides are rough. It seems to be a rock that’s been broken from a larger rock. I lay the skin and the
rock down on my father’s desk. I can’t stop looking at this stone. What is it? It must be something important if my father thought he had to hide it.

  I hesitate for a moment, and then I pick it up. Immediately, my mind is accosted with images. Flashes of things I’ve never seen before, places I’ve never been. Then, I see my father in his lab at Vox headquarters. He’s pointing a weapon at his friend, a fellow scientist. The other scientist holds a clear case that houses the stone. My father speaks, “You can’t take that… I can’t let you go.”

  The other scientist clutches the case to his chest. “You’ll have to kill me.”

  My father raises his hand and aims the weapon at the other man’s head. He places his finger on the trigger. Sweat is running down his face; his expression twists in agony. The hand that holds the weapon trembles. Again, my father pleads with his friend. “Please… Please don’t make me.”

  The scientist shakes his head and responds, “I just don’t have a choice.”

  My father fires, and just barely misses. A gash opens on the cheek of the other scientist and blood begins to flow down his face. My father looks down at the weapon in his hand; the other scientist disappears into the darkness.

  “Violet. Violet, no!”

  I am in my father’s office. I am sitting in my father’s chair. My father stands in the doorway. I look away from him and back to the stone in my hand. “Father… What is this?”

  He begins to run toward me, but he does not reach me before the building explodes.

  * * *

  “What’s going on here?” A familiar voice rouses me from my momentary unconsciousness. Where have I heard that voice before? You’ll have to kill me… The Scientist. I open my eyes.

  A man about my father’s age has entered the white room. He is at least a foot taller than my father was, and much more slender. His slight frame does not make him weak, however. This becomes clear as he grabs Ezra by the shirt collar and throws him to the floor. Ezra does not try to get up; fear is apparent in his eyes, but he does not try to escape.