I’m standing on a little pedestal while the Dressmaker walks around me, mumbling around a mouthful of pins.
“Evelyn, that pink is a wonderful color on you.”
I smile even though I’m sure the color washes me out. “Thank you, Mother.”
“I knew that it would.” She tugs on her own sapphire blue dress. “I think that it’s a little too short, though, don’t you?”
It’s just barely above my knees, but I nod. “Yes, Mother.”
She nods at the Dressmaker, who starts pulling pins and adjusting the hemline.
Mother goes on about my schedule for the next week. Meetings I’m to attend with her to take notes. Another request day. My appointments with Dr. Friar. Another ball. Violin lessons. Vocal lessons. Suitor tea party. An event at the theater. A dinner.
“Ouch!” I call out when the Dressmaker pokes me with a needle.
Mother glares at me. “Evelyn. Do not interrupt me.”
“Sorry, Mother,” I mutter and the Dressmaker sends me a look of apology.
The glass top opens and the doctor peers down at me. “Everything all right?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Fantastic. Now we need to inject you with some dye. I’d like to see what those nanos are doing. We’re going to stick a needle in your arm, okay?”
My stomach drops and I know this is a bad idea, but if it helps then I’ll do whatever it takes. I nod.
He signals the nurse to come over and I roll my head to watch her. She walks over slowly with something in her hand, but keeps out of my sight. When she’s next to me, she takes my arm and says, “This is going to sting a little. You might want to close your eyes.”
I do as she says, but my stomach churns and my entire chest tingles. This is a bad idea. A very bad idea. I open my mouth to object, but a sharp pain stabs into the crook of my elbow. My eyes fly open, but I’m not staring at the white walls of the medical center.
The walls are a pretty light blue that instinctively I know is supposed to be calming, but it’s not. It’s terrifying.
Medical equipment beeps and buzzes. Air hisses from somewhere nearby. The room is bustling with Medical Technicians. Their droning voices circle around me. “She’s dangerous. Unpredictable. A killer … worse … a monster … a risk … must be eliminated.”
Misery is my cloak and I wrap it around myself like a blanket.
I deserve this.
I am a monster. A murderer. Betrayer.
A Technician leans over and sneers at me. “Traitor,” he whispers into my ear, then pushes some sort of mask over my nose. “This is too good for you.” Straps are yanked across my body, biting into my skin, causing tears to prick at my eyes. But I don’t cry out. I deserve this. I am a traitor.
My pulse beats a tattoo against my throat and my head swims. Black spots form in front of my eyes and no matter how much I blink they multiply and grow, so I let my eyes drift closed.
“Stand clear,” a soft voice says.
Something pierces the skin inside my elbow and a deep aching fills my bones. The aching turns to gnawing, then to pure agony that travels from the marrow of my bones to the tips of my nerve endings. Within seconds every square centimeter of my flesh is being devoured slowly by fire. I scream out, but it doesn’t sound like me. It’s as if something primal has taken control of my body.
I thrash against my restraints, while people rush around me. Another needle is plunged into my other elbow. And yet another in my neck. With each assault the torture grows worse, until I’m nothing more than a writhing mass of torment.
Just when I think I can’t take any more, there’s a soft click in my brain and a mist films over the agony. I rip my arms from the straps, tearing the needles from my arms. Blood squirts across the nearest Technicians.
Shouts yell for someone—anyone—to get me under control before I hurt someone. Two Technicians advance on me and sink into a crouch. When they get near enough, I lunge forward, grabbing each by the arm and tossing them aside like dolls in turn. I’m moving before they even hit the wall to either side of me.
Another Technician jumps on me from behind, his arms tight around my neck. I flip him over my head. He lands hard on his back at my feet and his breath whooshes out all at once. I leave him there gasping as I run for the door.
As I wrench it open, two Enforcers appear on the other side of it. I strike out with my foot, kicking one in the chest. She flies back, hitting the wall on the other side of the hallway, but the other dashes forward and tackles me, shoving me into the ground and knocking the wind out of me.
Before I can even get my breath back, more people are crowding on top of me. My legs are tied together behind my back and to my arms. I have a moment to think that my limbs are going to be torn from my body when they lift me up and toss me onto the bed again.
They strap me to the bed again, this time facedown. A new voice speaks from the doorway. One I’d know anywhere.
Mother.
“What a mess. I told you to sedate her first.”
My mind goes blank and my body seems to lose its connection with my brain as I blink and stare at the scene in front of me.
I’m not lying on my stomach restrained to a bed. I’m standing. Blood trickles down my arms from the slashes across them. Two men lie in a heap on the floor at my feet. The only sign they’re still alive is the slight rise and fall of their chests.
The doctor stands only a few feet from me, another syringe in his hands. The nurse that talked to me just a few minutes ago is standing next to him, pulling jars of liquids from a cabinet.
Asher pushes past the two people in the doorway and we stare in shock and horror at each other. I don’t have to ask to know I’m the one that did this.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It’s been a year to the day. I have to think that Eli’s not coming back. To be honest, I probably knew from the beginning that Mother wouldn’t let him get away with what he did, but even if my head knew it, my heart wouldn’t believe it until now.
—EXCERPT FROM LENORE ALLEN’S JOURNAL
Gavin
I’m not sure how to get in. I’m almost positive the guards won’t let me in without that stupid paper, so I’m working on coming up with another way. It takes me a moment to realize that the bridge across from me is only large enough for foot traffic. That means there’s another entrance. There has to be. How else do they get supplies in?
I wander around until I find the bigger entrance, and then I wait, hiding in the shadow of the concrete wall. Watching. Studying the patterns and duties of the guards at this gate.
After a few hours, I realize that they don’t even look inside the large supply wagons. If I can somehow sneak over to one, I can slip underneath it and hang on until it drives into the city.
Finally, a horse-drawn wagon comes rumbling up to the gates. One of the guards comes out and speaks with the driver. Seizing my chance, I sneak over to it, then slide underneath the wagon and wrap my ankles around part of the wagon’s frame and my arms around another part. It hurts to be stretched out like this, and my shoulder is screaming at me, but I can’t think of another way.
They have an eternity-long conversation that I try to block out, and my legs and arms start to cramp from the exertion of holding on to the undercarriage. Eventually, though, the wagon pulls through the gates and into the city.
When the wagon stops at a crossroads, I let go, dropping to the ground and rolling out to the side, before jumping up and strolling away as if I didn’t just drop out from underneath a supply wagon. After a few blocks, I stop and massage the knots in my arms and legs.
I may not know the exact layout of the city, but I remember listening to Asher talking about it when we were kids. I know about where Asher’s family lives. It’s just a matter of finding out exactly which house is the correct one. It’s not like I can just go up to the people and ask them if they know where the St. Jameses live. I’ll be reported for being an Outlander and arrested faster than I ca
n blink.
But there’s no way I’m going to be able to find Evie without some kind of help. Maybe I should just take the chance and ask one of the police. I can prove that I’m supposed to be here. What harm could it do?
Then I shake my head. Nope. Bad idea. The people of Rushlake dislike outsiders almost as much as Elysium hates Surface Dwellers. Except they don’t go quite so far as death to punish people for “breaking” in. Still, I don’t feel like getting booted out. Even though when they find the St. Jameses, they’ll see I have a visa and it’ll be fine. Of course, that would depend on if Asher actually showed them the visa.
Maybe I could surreptitiously ask a few people, saying I’d come with the St. Jameses and went for a walk and got lost and need help finding my way back. I glance down to my filthy clothes. Nope. That’ll just send me back to talking with the police.
I’ll just have to take the chance and try asking a servant. They’re less likely to care that I’m an Outlander. But it’s not like I can just pick a house and ring the bell. I’ll have to wait until someone comes outside.
Even that proves to be difficult. When I get to the area where I know Asher’s house is, I manage to catch three servants on their way out of various houses, but only one even acknowledges I’m talking to him, and he just points down the street, which doesn’t help me. At all. Apparently even the servants think they’re better than Outlanders. Figures.
Evie
I don’t suppose it’s much of a surprise they decide not to let me go home. Considering what I did, I guess I should be glad they didn’t have me arrested. They still don’t know what caused it, despite all their fancy equipment. And they don’t know how I knocked out two grown men at least twice my size with my bare hands. So, now I’m stuck in yet another hospital room while they try to figure out how dangerous I am. While Asher talks with the doctor, trying to find out how long they’re going to keep me here, I let my eyelids drift closed. All the panic is making me exhausted.
After what feels like only a few minutes, Asher gently shakes me awake. When I blink my eyes open, his grandmother is there, watching me with a sad expression.
She takes the seat across from the bed, while Asher settles onto the chair to my left. I can see she’s bracing herself to tell me something. It’s quiet and I try not to fidget while I wait for her to speak. She seems lost in her thoughts and Asher and I exchange a look before he clears his throat. She startles and then her eyes focus on Asher.
She gives him a look of apology. “It’s always hard to know where to start, but as with everything it’s probably best to start with the beginning.” She moves her gaze to mine, then gives me a small smile. “You and I, my dear, have a lot more in common than you think.” She takes a deep breath and then looks into her lap. That’s when I notice her hands. She’s holding a small piece of shiny paper.
She gives Asher one more apologetic glance before handing it to me. I take it, dread curling in my stomach. Whatever this is, I don’t want to look, but I do. Then furrow my brow.
It’s just a picture of a group of six people smiling into the camera. They’re all wearing lab coats and smiles. There are six of them. Four men, a woman, and a girl about my age, maybe slightly older. All have blond hair. The four men are split, two on either side of the woman, who has her hands on the girl’s shoulders. Behind the group is what looks like the window from that creepy underground lab in the Outlands, or from the rooms in my hallucinations, only the water behind them is lit with lights and is dark blue—almost black. It’s only recognizable as water because of the colorful fish swimming in it.
It’s pretty, and … I feel like I know where it was taken. Like I’ve been there. The strangest part is that the two females and the youngest man look familiar. I’m sure I know them for some reason.
I look back up at her. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s me.” She points to the woman.
I go back to studying the picture and Asher leans against my knee to get a better look himself. And while at first I didn’t get it, I can see the resemblance now. It’s in the shape and color of the eyes—the same as Asher’s. The picture must have been taken years ago, when she was much younger, because her gray hair is blond in the picture and her face is smooth and free of wrinkles.
“You were very pretty,” I blurt out. I realize quickly that was probably very rude. As if I’m saying she’s not pretty now, which isn’t the case. She’s a very handsome woman, for someone of her—
She smiles at me, cutting off the mortified rant inside my head. “Thank you.”
Asher looks up at her. “Who are the rest of these people?”
She returns his look, then turns back to me. “Do you know? Does anyone look familiar?”
I slowly shake my head. “I feel like I should, but I can’t figure it out.”
She points to the girl. “That’s the woman you know as Mother.” Asher freezes and his eyes lock on to his grandmother, but she ignores him and continues. “And, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, this picture was taken in Elysium. It was taken right after we cracked the puzzle to the greatest scientific advancement of that time. Permanent sentient nanobots.” She looks up to meet my wide-eyed gaze. “I’m one of the scientists who invented the nanos that took away your memories, Evie.”
I can only stare at Asher’s grandmother. “You invented them?” I finally ask. She nods and I can’t help but blurt out, “All of this is your fault? I don’t know who or what I am because of you?”
She shakes her head, then pauses and nods. “Ultimately, I suppose this is my fault. They were never intended for what Mother eventually used them for, but … yes, I, and the others in my group, created them, and in the end that’s all that really matters.”
Asher doesn’t even look shocked.
“Did you know about this?” I demand of him.
He shakes his head. “Not until a few hours ago. I … I didn’t know how to tell you…” he trails off, looking at his hands.
My hands clench into fists as my anger turns to burn at his grandmother. “You didn’t think it was important to tell me right away when we arrived? Or when the doctors said it may be my nanos making me hallucinate?” She doesn’t answer, only looks away from me. I slam my fisted hand onto the bed. “Answer me! Why didn’t you say anything?”
She sighs. “Because I didn’t want to. That part of my life—the fragment of time I was there—is over, and I wanted to keep it that way.” She looks at Asher. “I wanted to keep that part of my life from touching you, but it seems that fate has made it your problem too. I’ve been responsible for enough people dying. I wasn’t going to let my selfishness harm an innocent girl. I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore.” She gives Asher an apologetic look, then sends me one as well.
Still furious, I shake my head and try to connect the dots. If she invented them, she knows how to fix them. I lean forward, the first flicker of hope fluttering in my heart.
“You know how to make me better.”
She shakes her head. “No, they’ve made a few improvements to the ’bots that I don’t know how to fix. I’ve already spoken to the doctor about it. But I might know someone who can help.”
“Same thing,” Asher says. He gets up and stalks toward the window.
Her eyes follow him. They’re sad when they turn back to me. “Eli and I—we were partners.” She glances over at Asher before turning back to me. “More than partners, really.” She sighs. “But that’s neither here nor there. As I said, I’ll start from the beginning.
“I was recruited to work in Elysium shortly after the War. She—Mother—hired me because of my work with the military here and my knowledge of nanite technology. Apparently there had been an outbreak of disease in Elysium and it had killed over half her people. She wanted to prevent it from happening again. She’d read of my success with sentient nanobots and had hoped by injecting nanobots, they would act like an immunization. That is to say, they would work along with the body’s immune system t
o get rid of germs and viruses, on a permanent basis, so she wouldn’t have to worry about something like that again.
“I took the offer almost before she stopped speaking. I saw it as a real opportunity to help people. After everything that happened during the War, I thought it would be a good way to repent for my sins.”
I frown. “Sins?”
Her chuckle is full of derision, but I’m certain it’s not directed at me. “A way to make up for things I thought I’d done wrong. And for a while, I thought I’d done it. I spent months with the others there, experimenting with the military tech I’d brought along, and finally came up with something that would keep people from being sick.
“I was so young, barely into my thirties. And stupid. But I never dreamed what happened would happen. I never realized what she really wanted the nanos for. Or what she would do. She was so young herself. A baby really. Too young, I suppose, to be running an entire city all by herself.”
“How old was she?” Asher asks.
“Seventeen, eighteen. Twenty at the most. She said she was twenty-five when I met her, but it was obvious she was lying. I suppose that should have been my first clue. But I didn’t think I had anything to worry about. If only I’d known, even though she was so young, what she was capable of.”
“What?” I ask, but I don’t think she even hears me. Her eyes are far away and I’m certain she doesn’t even see me anymore. I glance to Asher, who returns to sit next to me, his uncertain expression telling me he doesn’t know what she’s talking about either.
“Eli and I both came from the Surface, but he’d already been down there from … before. Apparently she trusted him more than anyone else. She put him with me mostly to supervise because I was a Surface Dweller.”
For the first time, she smiles at me as if we’re sharing an inside joke, but while the phrase makes me nervous, I don’t know why. When I don’t smile back, she turns her attention back to her hands. “And, for a while, it worked out well, and she began to trust me. I liked her almost from the beginning. She seemed so sweet, and she was so young, barely older than you and Asher. I almost saw her as a kid sister. And Eli…” Her eyes take on that faraway look again. “He was so smart. And sweet. Attractive. He had fantastic ideas. We quickly became partners.” She looks back up; her eyes darting back and forth between Asher and me. “Both inside the lab and out.”
Revelations (The Elysium Chronicles) Page 16
