by Ali House
Sixteen years ago, Vaughn ended up in the hospital after Nathan wounded him with an illegal gun, making Vaughn the first gunshot victim in Stanton in almost a century. No one knew what kind of damage the bullet would do, and Kit had been terrified that he wouldn’t make it. It had felt like her fault, since she had willingly gone with Nathan in an effort to try and find out where the Tecken base was and Vaughn was only there because he’d followed them. Even though Vaughn had said that it was his fault for not letting her handle things on her own, he never would have gotten shot if she hadn’t been stupid enough to think she could handle something that was so obviously a trap.
Looking at Vaughn now, with bandages wrapped around his left arm and his head, Kit couldn’t help recalling another terrible memory of how she had burned him while she was under Tecken’s control and almost killed him during the war. It made her question yet again why he was still with her. How had he been able to forgive her for everything she’d done?
She’d been too in shock to drive, so Sav drove them to the hospital. Naydir had been waiting for them, and when they arrived, he took her in to see Vaughn, filling her in on what had happened.
“There was an explosion at his studio, probably something happened with his chemicals. He was found unconscious in the front room by a citizen who noticed the smoke, and they managed to get him to safety before the fire did any real damage.”
As soon as Kit walked into Vaughn’s room, Naydir’s words had become distant, falling into the background. How could there have been an accident? Vaughn was always so careful with his supplies. Had he been rushing to get back home? Was it her fault again that he was injured?
She walked over to Vaughn and took his hand in hers, relieved that he felt warm and alive. The doctors had already treated his head wound and the burns, and his left arm was wrapped in bandages from the wrist to the upper arm. His breathing was steady, but his eyes remained closed and there was no reaction.
“The doctors say that he could wake up in an hour or a week or later,” Naydir said. “Head wounds are difficult to judge, and they don’t know how much force was behind the explosion.”
Tears began to fill Kit’s eyes, but she knew she needed to pull herself together. She didn’t know if the current situation was making her cry or if it was because of all her guilty memories. Maybe it was some strange combination of both. She tried to remind herself that this was nothing more than a terrible accident.
Time lost all meaning as she stood there, holding Vaughn’s hand and willing him to wake up. Eventually Naydir came over to her and said that they should go home. She carefully placed Vaughn’s hand back on the bed and allowed Naydir to lead her out of the room.
As Naydir drove Sav and her back to the apartment building, everyone remained silent. Kit wasn’t sure if they were waiting for her to speak or if enough had been said on the matter.
“Would you like me to come in for a while?” Naydir asked as they reached the third floor.
She shook her head.
“Well, I’m only next door if you need me.” But he didn’t walk away. He stood in the hallway, Sav standing close by, keeping a careful eye on her as she entered her apartment.
When she shut the door, leaving them in the hallway, she heard Naydir’s words echo in her head. He was just along the hallway, right next to her, in the perfect location to keep an eye on her. It was very convenient, wasn’t it?
She quickly shook that thought out of her head. As much as she wanted to think about anything other than Vaughn’s unmoving form, she knew that particular line of thought wouldn’t be helpful. Instead she tried to think of all the things she could find comfort in – that Vaughn was still alive, that he had been found in time, and that he could wake up at any minute.
As she walked through the apartment, she wondered what time it was. It had to be late, but she wasn’t feeling tired. If anything, she felt numb, as if her emotions had been used up, leaving her hollow inside.
Ϟ
The streets of Stanton were empty. There had to be people somewhere, but she couldn’t see or hear anyone. It was deathly quiet.
There was no specific path that she walked, choosing to take whichever turn called out to her whenever she reached a fork in the road. The buildings rose around her as she walked, like dark grey monoliths, growing taller and taller until she could barely see the sky.
A noise to her left caught her attention and she moved towards it. As she turned a corner, she saw two men fighting. They were about the same height, but one had yellow hair and was holding a gun, while the other had red hair and a long sword. The red-haired man knocked the other down and held the blade to his throat. She cried out and raced forward, using her power to set the man’s coat on fire before he could kill his opponent. He quickly dropped the sword and backed away. Throwing a gust of wind forward, she knocked the red-haired man back against a wall with a sickening ‘thud’. He slid to the ground, unconscious, and she turned her attention to the blond haired man. As he stood up, he smiled at her, and she felt a smile cross her own lips.
“Thanks for that,” he said. “Guess I got myself into some trouble. But don’t worry…” He walked over to the unconscious man and aimed the gun at his head.
She watched as the unconscious man’s hair mixed with the blood pooling underneath his head. He looked familiar, but she didn’t know why.
There was a loud ‘bang’ as the man standing next to her pulled the trigger. The red-haired man went deathly still and the street was silent once more.
The yellow haired man held his hand out to her. She looked up into his red eyes, which were full of happiness. She took his hand and it was so strong and warm. It felt like home.
‘This,’ she thought, ‘this is where I belong.’
Kit woke up in a cold sweat. She had fallen asleep on the couch and for a few seconds she didn’t know where she was. Once she got her bearings, the details of the dream came back to her, and she felt cold and empty and horrified. The scene stuck in her mind like a bad memory that couldn’t be forgotten. It was mostly true, but the ending was wrong – she had stopped Nathan from shooting Vaughn. Yes, it had been after she’d injured him, but when it counted, she’d protected Vaughn, she had been there for him.
The memory of the shot and the stillness from the dream flashed before her eyes and her stomach twisted. She reminded herself that it was fake.
It wasn’t real.
It wasn’t real.
Ϟ
She couldn’t get back to sleep after that, which only added to the exhaustion she’d felt the day before. These nightmares were going to be the death of her. If she couldn’t find some way to stop dreaming, she’d never get a good night’s sleep again.
Although she’d spent a lot of time alone in the apartment, it had never been like this. In the past she knew that Vaughn would arrive home eventually, but knowing that he was lying in a hospital, unsure of when he’d wake up... It made the apartment seem emptier and lonelier than ever before. She couldn’t help fearing that he might never walk through the door again.
She’d been to his studio, in the South-East part of the island, many times before. Vaughn had lived there when he first moved to Stanton, leaving behind the army and his family for a new, uncertain life. She liked to refer to it as his second home, but truthfully it was his first home. She couldn’t believe that something so terrible had happened there. Bad things shouldn’t happen in a place where you felt safe.
Later that morning, Naydir came over to see if she wanted to go back to the hospital.
“There’s nothing I can do,” she said, shaking her head. She was worried that if she went back there, she would break down completely. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the image of Nathan pulling the trigger and Vaughn’s body going deathly still.
Naydir must have noticed how difficult this was for her, because he didn’t ask any questions or try to guilt her into going to the hospital. Instead he gave her an update on Vaughn’s injuri
es. There had been some shrapnel from the blast, but it was nothing serious, and the doctors were confident there would be no infection. The burns on his arm were from his sleeve catching fire, but they were only second-degree burns, not third. Being on the ground meant that he probably hadn’t inhaled much of the smoke or chemicals, so their only real concern was the head wound.
After Naydir filled her in, he seemed to realize that she wasn’t in the mood for company. Before leaving he said that he would call her workplace to let them know what had happened and tell them that she wouldn’t be in for a few days. Then, giving one last sympathetic look, he left.
As soon as he was gone, the apartment went back to being empty and cavernous. She didn’t want to do anything, but she also didn’t want to sit here and stare into space. Maybe she should clean again or try baking something or rearrange her books.
Her gaze fell on the envelope, which was still sitting untouched on the table. Her mind was already in a vulnerable state, so opening this would definitely be a bad idea. It would only confuse an already confusing situation, and she needed to think about what she could be doing for Vaughn, even if the answer was nothing.
These were all the thoughts she told herself in an effort to leave the envelope alone. She knew that her mind was right, and she should stop staring at it and leave the room. She should do something – anything that didn’t involve looking at this thing which was certain to contain terrible lies.
But… But what if they weren’t lies.
What if the letters were true? What if the reports were real and she’d actually grown up on Tecken? Was it possible to erase someone’s mind so completely that they couldn’t remember anything? Was that why she couldn’t forget her memories of Tecken, because they were what truly belonged in her mind?
What if the envelope in front of her held the key?
She couldn’t stop her hand from moving forward. The envelope was like the previous, definitely containing more than one page. Holding onto it, it suddenly felt like there was a large pit inside of her stomach. What stories would these pages tell?
It felt as if someone else was controlling her movements, as she opened the envelope and removed its contents. There were three pages in all, dry and aged, but not as yellow as the others.
Each page had a stamp of the ISS logo in the top left corner.
Her breath caught in her throat. She’d been expecting more Tecken pages – pages that could have been forged by Tecken soldiers ages ago. She was definitely not expecting this.
Mission Report 8934. RE: Project Six. Our reassignment strategy has failed again. In the interest of time, it has been decided that we shall have to resort to our secondary strategy. Preparations have already been completed, and all of the necessary parts have been put together and fabricated. Although it will be an arduous task, if it works, we shall have full control. We are aware of the possible consequences, but we must sever the connection to Tecken no matter what the cost. It is obvious that having such power on our side would be an enormous benefit, but if the secondary reassignment fails, at least we will have kept this power out of Tecken’s hands. Authorization has already been given, and we will commence with this strategy in T-12 hours.
End Report.
Mission Report 9104. RE: Project Six. The Reassignment is still holding. We have gone one week without any visible issues. Although it has been suggested that we bring the subject in for another session, it has been decided that we will hold off for now and only intervene if it becomes necessary. It is only a matter of time before we move to phase two. All of the pieces are in place and ready. Each employee has been given their duty and script and have been instructed on what to watch for. Once phase two has been put into motion, we shall see about moving to phase three.
End Report.
Mission Report 9217. RE: Project Six. We have heard reports that Tecken has placed soldiers on the island. Although this does not change phase two, it slightly complicates matters. We suspect that they are searching for the subject, but are confident that our reassignment will not be broken. Reports from our employees say that the reassignment is holding fast and that the subject does not suspect anything in the slightest. We may have to postpone phase three for now, until we can confirm the presence of Tecken spies.
End Report.
The reports didn’t say anything specific, but Kit could read between the lines. They were talking about brainwashing someone – someone powerful, who had once been on Tecken’s side, and who the ISS would rather have on their side. Someone who might have some significance to the number six. It made sense that the ISS would keep any specifics out of the reports, in case they were discovered by someone who wasn’t a part of the project, but even then it wasn’t hard to work out what they might be talking about.
Maybe she was reading too much into this, but she doubted it. It matched up too perfectly with the previous reports from Tecken. Was it possible that these papers were real? If they were, then it confirmed the idea that she had originally been on Tecken’s side and had been manipulated to join the ISS. As strange as that idea was, the more evidence she received, the more plausible it sounded.
She had been the one to kill Magnus Erikson after all – and end his family line. Had she done it because there was no other way to end the war or because she was a puppet of the ISS? She could have incapacitated him and taken him in, but instead her instinct had been to take him down and finally end Erikson’s control over Tecken. A small voice inside her head had told her that he was dangerous and that he and his descendants wouldn’t stop until the whole world was under their control, but when she thought about it, Erikson had only ever talked about ruling the Segment, not the world. So where had that thought come from? Had it been planted by the ISS, to make her do what they wanted? If they could plant a lifetime of false memories, something like that would be easy enough to slip in.
Despite earlier reservations, she was beginning to believe the letters. Ever since she’d signed up to help the ISS, she’d been under their thumb. They had made the team move to a house together, so that they could reach everyone easier, but strategically it seemed like a bad idea to put all your spies under one roof. Or had everyone else been put there to keep an eye on her?
Naydir and Zenyth didn’t require the security that she did, so why were they living in the ISS apartment building? Why were they next door to her? How had it been so easy for Zenyth to find another apartment on the same floor?
Had Cale and Bryanna moved away because they wanted a change or because their jobs had finished?
And Vaughn... What if Vaughn was only with her because he was a spy for the ISS? It would make sense. There were days when she was certain that she didn’t deserve him and that he’d leave her, but he never did. He was always so kind and caring, even when she was making his life miserable. Maybe it was because he’d been ordered to be that way.
She hated how plausible everything sounded. If it wasn’t true, then why was her whole life so convenient? Why had she not talked to her mother or her step-sisters in over a decade? Mich and Jill were now twenty-three and twenty-four, so they were adults who could make up their own minds: and although she couldn’t risk phoning or visiting her mother, she had always thought that her step-sisters would contact her once they’d broken away from their father’s tyrannical rule. Instead, there was only silence. Kit assumed that they had fallen prey to the teachings of the Humanists and that they still lived on Briton, but what if that wasn’t true? What if they had never existed? What if they had been part of an elaborate lie – a reason to make her not question her lack of family?
After the Second Invasion her friends had helped her realize what was real and what wasn’t, but maybe that was their purpose. They were there to reassure her that the Tecken memories were all false and that this was where she belonged. It made sense.
Suddenly Kit was overwhelmed with the feeling that she might burst into tears. Yes, her life was difficult, but it was her life. To find out
that it was false and that everyone she’d ever cared about was lying to her and pretending to be her friend... It was more than she could take.
But what was she supposed to do now that she’d learned the truth? She couldn’t let anyone know what she’d found out. They might bring her back to the ISS, and then they’d mess around with her brain more than they already had. She had to pretend that nothing was wrong, that she was still under their control.
A small voice in the back of her mind spoke up and made her pause. What if it wasn’t the truth? What if she was allowing herself to be manipulated by these papers? They might be fakes. They might be really convincing fakes.
Before doing anything rash, she needed to find out what was real and what wasn’t, but who could she trust? She couldn’t go to Zenyth or Naydir, or anyone who might be involved with the ISS. Even if he wasn’t in a coma, she wouldn’t be able to trust Vaughn. No matter how sincere he seemed, how would she know that he was telling the truth?
Her chest began to feel tight, and she put her hands on the couch, feeling a sudden need to touch something real. The fabric was soft and sturdy – it was real and so was she. If only it was that easy to know which memories were real. Why didn’t she have any photographs from her past? What happened to that picture of her and her dad? Had she lost it, or had it never existed in the first place?
The tightness in her chest increased as her entire world started crumbling around her.
Chapter 22
A pile of newspapers were sitting on her desk, but Zenyth couldn’t bring herself to read them. At this very moment, Vaughn was lying in the hospital, still unconscious. The incident had happened while she was off work, so she’d heard about it from Naydir, who had been working the late shift. She’d been getting ready for bed when the phone rang, which was the first clue that something terrible had happened. Nobody ever called her that late. She’d considered going to the hospital, but quickly realized that there was nothing she’d be able to do.
