by Lisa Jade
That was the agreement, right? I promised Pan I’d stay four days. She clearly expects me to stay now, that those four days will stretch on forever, but I don’t think they can. Things have changed so much over the past few days. If I could make the choice, I’d want to stay here forever.
But to abandon the place I call home? To turn my back on everything I’ve known? To never see Nel again? I can’t do it. Besides, after what I did to Kane, I don’t think I ever want to be that close to someone again. I’m clearly too cowardly to be trusted.
Jay throws out a hand to help up his latest sparring partner, grinning his toothy grin. Kindness and strength radiate from him in waves.
Maybe if I knew the truth, this wouldn’t be so hard. Sacrificing everything for a long-lost brother makes more sense than giving it all up for strangers. If only I could be certain, I could convince myself to stay in this life. But without knowing the truth…
Suddenly, I can’t watch anymore. I stand up and head back to the room, Atlas trailing after me.
I’m up before Pan the next morning. She’s clearly exhausted from last night’s chaos; she’s sprawled across her bed, blankets entangled in her legs, dried drool on her chin.
I wonder if she noticed me leaving last night. Did she wonder why? Did she even question it? She’s supposed to be keeping an eye on me, right?
My Mill clothes are crumpled and stinking, still abandoned in the corner where I left them. There are still some remnants of bloodstains on the shirt, reminding me of that fight my first day here. At the time, I was furious. But that anger is fading fast.
I run a hand through my hair, surprised at how smooth it seems to lie now. Before it was just a crusted mass, but soap and care have encouraged it to lie flat. I don’t care enough to look in a mirror, but I’m sure I must be unrecognisable from the person who came here four days ago.
“Noah?”
Pan’s awake now, groggily watching me from across the room. She eyes the clothes in my hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Morning. I’m just sorting things out for later.”
“Later?”
Here goes.
“Yeah. It’s day four, remember?”
In an instant she’s awake and standing, but her legs aren’t as alert as her mind and she stumbles across the room to get to me.
“W-what are you talking about?!” she cries. There’s a definite touch of anger in her voice, but I choose not to point it out. Instead, I busy myself folding the clothes. They don’t really need to be folded, but I can’t bring myself to meet the hurt in her eyes.
“I promised you four days, that’s all. If I don’t head home soon, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“But I thought…”
Her voice breaks a little – the realisation, perhaps, that she couldn’t convince me. Guilt burns through me. She did convince me. I wish I could stay, but I can’t.
“Look, I don’t have a choice. If I’m late, I face some pretty bad punishment. I don’t fancy another stint in the mines. If I end up being really late, they might even wipe patches of memory as punishment.”
She doesn’t seem to hear that part – she’s too distracted.
“Then don’t go! I thought you liked it here.”
“I do. Really, I do. It’s amazing, and I love it. But I can’t do this forever.”
She stamps her foot.
“Why not?!”
“It’s not me, Pan! You know that. I’m just not cut out for this. I’m just a Millchild.”
“I thought you were finally starting to see past that. I thought you were having fun.”
“I was. I am. But you don’t need me around.”
“Who says we don’t?”
“I do,” I insist, my anger rising. Why doesn’t she understand?
She locks her hands onto my shoulders, forcing me to look straight into those bright, clear eyes.
“Tell me the truth. Why won’t you stay?”
“I…”
I bite back on the words, but then think better of it. I’m leaving either way. What does it matter if she knows the truth? When I speak again, my voice is hard and bitter.
“Back home, there was a kid. His name was Kane.”
“Huh?”
“We were close for a while. Then one day he asked me to back him up with something. He attacked a guard for some reason – and even though he asked me to support him, I didn’t. He got dragged off to the mines, probably beaten stupid. They could have wiped his memory, or killed him. He could be dead right now for all I know, and it’s all my fault.”
My hands are shaking with barely concealed anger, the likes of which I didn’t even know I was holding in. Her face falls.
“Noah, I didn’t…”
“He probably had a plan, and I ruined it,” I choke, “all because I didn’t trust him. Now, he’s paying the price. Do you understand now? You don’t need me around because I’m not like you. Not where it counts. You can’t trust me to stick around when you need me.”
I wrench myself from her grip and turn away, clutching the clothes to my chest. I thought I’d gotten over this. I thought that moment with Darus had resolved this – but no. The guilt is there, as real and painful as ever.
“Is that why?”
Pan’s voice is hushed, barely a whisper, but it echoes in the tiny room.
“Is what why?”
“You feel guilty for what you did back then. And you’re trying to punish yourself by leaving when you don’t even want to.”
“I-it’s more complicated than that. You’ve only known me four days. You barely know me at all. I… I could be anyone.”
“But you could be Ada. You could be the key to fixing everything.”
“But what if I’m not? Then I’m just a disappointment, aren’t I?”
She looks away, and I can tell that she wants to deny it. She wants to wrap her arms around me and tell me she won’t be disappointed, that it’s fine no matter who I am. But she can’t do it. Because it’s not true. No matter how sweet she is, she can’t pretend it’s okay.
“If I knew the truth,” I say, “things would be different. Maybe I could stay. But…”
“Would that help?”
“Huh?”
“If we find out who you are, would that change things?”
I hesitate.
“I… think so. If I was in a position to help you, then I’d stick around to do it. But if I’m not Ada, then as much as I love it here, I have no reason to stay.”
She grabs my arm now, a sudden fire in her eyes.
“Then that’s what we’ll do. I know Jensen’s been looking into ways to confirm your identity. I’m sure he knows a way. We’ll find out the truth, okay?”
“But…”
“Please,” she pleads, “just… trust me.”
I want to say no. I want to pull away and insist that I’m leaving. But suddenly I’m falling into those clear, green eyes. Always so kind, so trusting. All of her vulnerabilities are out there for me to see, and I can’t help but weaken when faced with them. I sigh.
“Okay. I trust you.”
“You want to do what?!”
Jay’s voice is so loud that I can hear it even through the walls of his little control room. My hands tighten against the railing. I’m standing on the little bridge overlooking the river and the rest of the Atrium. Pan had decided it would be better for me to wait outside, rather than be present for their conversation. As we’d walked through the corridors, she’d grabbed Jensen and explained things. The two of them went in to speak to Jay about fifteen minutes ago, and since then, nothing.
Until now.
The door to the room flies open, flung so hard that it hits the wall behind it and bounces back. I shrink back as Jay marches towards me. His shoulders are back and his jaw is set; but it’s not quite anger in his eyes. Nevertheless, I take a pointed step back as he nears me.
“You want to leave?”
His voice is hard, dem
anding. I swallow hard.
“N-no. Not exactly.”
“If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be. You’re not a prisoner.”
“I know.”
“So if you want to go, just go.”
There it is. The choice. I’d been hoping nobody would give me one. I should probably move now. Take his words as a clear signal to go. Instead, I’m rooted to the floor. My mouth is dry. An unpleasant silence falls over us.
Say something. Anything.
“For god’s sake, Jay!”
Pan rushes up behind him, grabbing his shoulder. I spot Jensen sidling up behind her, watching the whole thing with apparent bemusement. He catches my eye and smirks.
“Were you even listening to me?” Pan cries, “I explained everything, didn’t I?”
“I want to hear her say it.”
My face is hot. I thought he might be conflicted to hear I’m leaving – maybe even a little hurt. I didn’t expect anger. I take another step back.
“Why?” says Pan, “I told you everything.”
Everything? Even about Kane? Her eyes suggest otherwise. Why am I doing this, anyway?
“I want to stay.”
Their bickering stops at that – none of them were expecting me to say it. Jay’s eyes flash with anger.
“Then why are leaving?”
“Because…”
I take a long, deep breath.
“I just… I don’t want to let you down.”
His face falls. My words have taken the wind out of his sails.
“What?”
He fixes me with his gaze, those dusty eyes meeting mine.
“You could be Ada.”
“I might not be. I like this place, and you. I don’t think I can stand to see your disappointment if you find out that she’s dead after all. After everything you’ve been through, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“But…”
“I’m sorry. But if there’s no way of finding out the truth, then… I can’t do this.”
An uncomfortable silence settles between us, and I notice that the Atrium’s fallen silent, too. Even the crickets in the garden below are quiet. I wonder if they sense the mood. For a moment, Jay just watches me. His expression is unreadable, his lips slightly parted like he doesn’t know what to say. Just like Pan. He can tell me I can stay no matter what, but he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t be disappointed. Guilt and sadness well in me. Half of me wants to burst into tears; but the other half just wants to go home. My hands feel empty without an axe or shovel weighing them down.
But then he glances back at Jensen, his face in shadow.
“You think this is going to work?”
Jensen shrugs.
“We’ve got a good chance. I’d say it’s the best plan we’ve got.”
“And how soon could we go?”
“Within a day. Maybe two. I’d need to hack some additional security systems, but I’d be able to do that pretty fast.”
Jay bites his lip.
“Then, I guess we have a plan.”
He turns to me, his face suddenly full of determination. He holds up two fingers.
“Give us two days.”
“Two days? For what?”
He smirks.
“You’re right. It’s been driving me mad, too. Not knowing. So we’re going to find out.”
I feel my jaw drop.
“Really?”
“Yeah. We have an idea.”
With that he turns away and leaves. Jensen skitters after him and the two begin talking furiously as they return to Jay’s room. I watch them go, discomfort building in my chest. Pan beams.
“I’m so happy for you!”
“I’m not sure what just happened.”
“I told you, didn’t I? Jensen’s been looking for some way of checking your DNA. Once I explained it to Jay, he understood.”
“So why was he so mad?”
“Because I added it right at the end – the bit about you having to go back. How you’d get punished if you didn’t get back in time. That kind of upset him.”
“I noticed. Is this really okay? I feel like I’ve made some outrageous demand.”
She laughs.
“Yeah, totally outrageous. How dare you want to know who you are? Geez.”
With that she hooks her arm around my neck again, steering me back towards the Atrium. She’s smiling again. It’s a nice smile. It’s toothy and wide, and her mouth’s a little too big for her face – but it’s genuine. Probably the most genuine thing I know.
I allow her to lead me away.
The following night, something lowers overhead in the Atrium. A great screen, built of dozens of smaller ones pushed together. Some only show black and white, while others are strangely bright – but the picture they form is the same.
Vast crowds of people watch a stage. It’s set up in front of an endlessly tall building; one of the three skyscrapers that caught my eye before. Three people stand there, shoulders back, a dignified air about them. They’re talking amongst themselves, exchanging respectful glances and friendly nods – but the noise is muffled, and I can’t make out the words.
“This again?”
Jensen drops down next to me. I’m sitting on the floor near the sparring area. Nobody’s fighting tonight, but it seemed like a good place to sit and rest after an exhausting day. Atlas is perched calmly by my side. It seems tired, too – I suppose that it’s spent the whole day tracking my every confusing movement, scanning every change in my heartbeat and temperature. It must have been skyrocketing and calming constantly today. Jensen notices, too.
“How are you liking Atlas?”
I shrug, not wanting to let him know how much I’ve grown to like its presence. It’s strange – it’s little more than a floating computer, and yet I find myself reassured by it. Like I’m never quite alone. I hadn’t expected that to feel good.
“It’s alright.”
He just winks. That’s weird, too – it feels like the suspicion has faded.
“What’s this again, anyway?” I ask. He tilts his head at me, confused.
“Wow, you really don’t know anything, do you? They’re the three leaders. We watch the broadcasts to gather intel about the upcoming Cull. Here, look.”
He points to them each in turn – first, a tall man with a willowy figure and an expression like something stinks. He smirks and tips his hat to the camera as it passes, arrogance and confidence warring on his slim features.
“That’s Cartwright. He’s the Economic leader. He’s a sympathiser, though he’d never admit it. We always consider him a non-risk. He wouldn’t let us go if given the chance, but if we overpowered the others, he’d fall into line pretty quickly.”
Next, a portly man with a shock of dark hair and a rather impressive moustache.
“Gingham. He upholds legislation for industries, Mill imports, that kind of thing. He’s a total asshole, but doesn’t really have the smarts to carry out a full-on attack. Most of the more disgusting laws are his idea. Personally, I reckon it’s how he gets his rocks off.”
“Huh?”
“You know, he’s a sadist. Likes hurting people.”
“Oh.”
Finally, the camera settles on the third leader. She’s a tiny wisp of a woman, but her presence commands the attention of everyone around her. Black eyes stare from beneath heavy brows. Black hair is scraped back to reveal a sharp face. Her slim body is swathed in white. I feel myself recoil from her glare. Beside me, Jensen shudders.
“Ugh. Her.”
“Who is she?”
“Maynard. She’s responsible for keeping us in line. She’s basically been the driving force behind the Cull for the past twenty years. She’s smug and vicious and has no respect for anyone except herself. She’s a total viper.”
“So, she’s the main problem?”
“Absolutely,” he says, “she’s the only one who actively hunts us down. Sends out Guards all the time. She’s also
the one who sends out broadcasts to torture us. Without her, this would be a hell of a lot easier. But, and I really hate to say this, the woman’s smart. Really smart. She knows exactly what to say and do to twist everything to her whim. She’s vile, though. She’s the one who…”
He trails off, and suddenly I realise where I’ve seen her before. The clip that Atlas showed me. Maynard was the figure striding around on the stairs, twirling the shock baton like a toy. She was the one proclaiming the moral high ground. She was the one who tortured Jay’s parents. Their executioner. I feel a sudden urge to launch myself at the screen.
“Your patience is amazing,” I growl, “If I had just fifteen minutes alone with her…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He knows, though. His expression changes.
“We can’t kill anyone, Noah.”
“I know. I wasn’t suggesting it.”
“It’s not like we haven’t considered it,” he explains, “We did once. We figured it’d be pretty easy to get hold of some guns from the Guards at the city limit. Kill her from a distance, before she even knew what hit her. But we couldn’t do it. Couldn’t even try. We hate the leaders because they kill people. If we kill them, we become no better.”
I nod, regretting even thinking it.
“So, who was it that chased us the other night?”
“That was Cartwright’s Guard. Each leader has their own Guard – you can tell them apart by the symbols on their uniforms. Cartwright’s symbol is a tree. Gingham’s is a lotus.”
“What about Maynard?”
He grimaces.
“She uses a rose. I think it’s supposed to be some kind of play on ‘Thorne’, but if it is, then her sense of humour sucks. Anyway… Cartwright might be mostly harmless, but his Guards aren’t. They’re armed to the teeth and they all seem to take a sick kind of joy out of hurting people. It’s a common saying around here that only psychopaths join the Guard.”
I sigh.
“I guess we got lucky, huh? Not getting caught, I mean.”
He hesitates at that.
“About that. I never said thanks, did I?”
“For what?”
“You saved my ass back there. I never said thank you.”
