Found in Amber

by Esther Rabbit

  “Listen you fartknocker!” He broke, walking toward Jasper. “I trusted you with Mia’s life! You’re all the same breed of assholes aren’t you?” He’d never pictured himself actually punching Jasper, but as of late, there’d been a first of everything, it seemed. His fingers curled in a fist.

  Deep breath. But Jasper was faster, knocking him flat with an abrupt definition of a knuckle sandwich. Rufus was out cold.

  Neither Zoey nor James broke at the sound of Rufus slumping against the ground. Not even Lilou, who was still processing defeat from her corner on the floor.

  “They do live on hope, don’t they?” Richard muttered to Jasper. “I suppose I had to see it for myself.”

  γ

  “Is this normal?” Sam broke the silence in the ballroom since both Alex and Emma just stared at the intersats, unblinking. “Can one of you pinheads just say something?” Sam could deal with a lot of things, but silence wasn’t one of them. Alex’s face had been totally expressionless for the last twenty-five minutes. At least he’d stopped scolding her for walking back and forth on the expensive carpet. In his defense, twenty-five minutes more and she’d make a dignifying hiking trail. “Please?”

  Emma pulled at her sleeves as if trying to find some meaning in the process. “Maybe they’re resting,” she said, her pitch a little too high “maybe they’re just discussing the right approach with your former Chancellor.”

  “In perfectly still positions and a slower heart-rate? C’mon Emma, you know how to read the stats by now.” For Alex, this was anything but sunny side up. Communication had been lost exactly thirty-two minutes ago. Their collective heart rates slowed in unison shortly afterward. He worked his fingers under Sam’s scrutiny checking for updates, distinctively aware of how she hovered over his work station.

  “What I don’t understand is why only Zoey, Mia and Rufus have trackers.” Sam spat from behind. “I mean, if you guys are kalenium free now, how are you supposed to track Jasper and Lilou?” She couldn’t be bothered with James’s safety.

  Emma’s hand reached for her wrist. Sam jerked away. “They know what they’re doing, Sam. They’re soldiers.”

  “They might as well be dingleberries right now and we wouldn’t know!” Sam’s fingers dug at her hips in a frustrated move. “When is the other universe-traveling Asian alien coming?” Somehow, she felt sign language with Lilou’s sister would prove more productive than Alex’s silent treatment.

  Being stuck with two humans in the midst of chaos started to feel like a personal challenge. They all wanted to feel included, but probably couldn’t handle the reality of it. “My guess is that they’re somewhere close to a coma.”

  “What?!” Both Sam and Emma turned to him hysterically.

  He closed his eyes and exhaled. “Look, I don’t like being the bearer of bad news and I certainly ain’t about to waste time assisting you with the emotional processing.” He signaled to the intersat. “They haven’t moved one inch in nearly half an hour, their heart rate is significantly lower than average and they seem to be at a symmetrical distance from each other. My guess is they’re in a plasin unit.”

  Emma spoke without peeling her eyes from the screen. “A plasin unit?”

  “It’s like a short-term prison with individual cells. We keep our, um, criminals there for heavy questioning or termination. Picture a room so small you wouldn’t be able to fully stretch your legs out. Impenetrable glass that disables all external enhancements—you can’t self-heal, portal, use telekinesis. None of our own at least because plasin works like a barrier of sorts.”

  Sam collapsed on the floor in front of the work station. “So they blew their cover and they’re now imprisoned? Can Zoey shatter that glass?”

  γ

  Not much had changed in Lilou’s stance: still with her back against the wall and knees close to her chest, topped by her chin resting on her arms. The gas grenade Jasper threw had incapacitated the hybrids and numbed her just enough to walk the line between conscious and unconscious. She felt as she was being carried to the plasin unit and thrown in with enough care to conclude they still had plans for her.

  Ten plasin boxes lined up in rows of five facing each other, each at a considerable distance from the other. Hybrids on one side, treasonous optans on the other.

  Dick must like order, was her first thought seeing how they distributed accommodation under Richard’s command. A quick sweep around confirmed her expectations: everyone was passed out in unceremonious positions. Mia’s cheek pressed hard against the plasin and her limbs sprawled most unnaturally on her sides, Rufus lay face down, his feet dangling in the air due to the lack of room and Zoey was curled in a ball in the center of her box.

  Looking over her shoulder, Lilou caught a glimpse of Etienne who was standing, arms folded across his chest. His eyes did all the talking, though.

  “I’d much rather see you scandalized than defeated.” He kept a calm tone taking the one step that allowed him to get closer to her box. “It doesn’t suit you.” On closer inspection, it was the first time Lilou had seen him rumpled, the cut on his lower lip, the messy hair. Etienne was not one to ever look disheveled. Not for as long as she’d known him.

  Her only reply had been a shrug.

  Words would only make the wound deeper. She got her sister back only to end up in a plasin box. When she swore her oath she couldn’t imagine this was what the future held in store for her—two criminal sides, going against the faith of her people, against her superiors. She’d die a traitor, a no name. She’d die defeated.

  “So much self-pity for such a little box.” Etienne kept bugging. “I’m sure they’ll consider an upgrade once they see a tear or two.” She still didn’t finch, eyes pinned ahead into nothingness. They should’ve had the decency to give her a quick death, but no, humiliation was all part of Dick’s power play. He’d probably make an example out of her too, the renegade, backstabbing soldier who dared to go against the Minister’s ideas of progress.

  But she never saw Jasper coming. He wanted to prove himself more than she’d ever anticipated so she pondered the possibilities as Etienne spoke again. “How was that saying with the world’s smallest violin playing just for you?”

  “Shut up!” Lilou slammed her foot against the plasin, her voice a broken scream. “Shut the hell up!” she bolted up, wired.

  “Atta soldier!” He’d take that bottled rage instead of a passive-aggressive Lilou any day. But there was something broken inside Lilou, something on the edge of savage visible even through two layers of plasin. “You know the hybrids are practically bait for the rest now. Alexandre probably figured out they’re captive.” The trackers Rufus, Mia and Zoey had implanted gave away all the details: their location, vitals, everything for Alex to solve a rather simple puzzle.

  “Alex is not a soldier.”

  “But Mezin is, and she can portal them here, so unless you snap out of this idiotic trance, the longest pole will knock the persimmon after all.” Etienne rested an arm on the solid glass.

  “We have nothing.” She punched the plasin with little effect.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” he pushed. “They can’t kill me. Yet.” Etienne steepled his fingers together. “They barely developed a fabric to keep me from turning them to dust in a week’s time. They’ve infused this particular plasin box with it so I can’t shatter it thanks to your young double-agent.”

  “What’s your point?” Lilou spat. She didn’t like what Jasper had turned into any better. “They don’t need to kill you if they keep you in a permanent coma or numb you enough to forget your name. Or just cut the air out of this plasin box.” The options were countless.

  “Then why are you alive? There’s no tracker in you either. Jasper knows this and now, so do they. There’s no reason for them to keep you alive if they don’t have some sort of plan.” Etienne pressed his hand against the glass, taking in a deep breath. More survivors meant more trouble for the Alliance and there was nothing Lilou could have g
iven them. If the hybrids, as well as himself, were an interesting case study in terms of genome editing, keeping her alive made zero sense.

  Before she could get her words together, Mia’s body shifted to the side. A couple of moans and rigid movements later, her eyes opened, registering the surroundings. Her head was pounding. To say she was groggy would be an understatement at this point. She instinctively reached for her head and found her arm weighing close to a ton.

  Zoey followed in her wake close behind. Anger outweighed dizziness at this point. She had enough strength to stand on two feet and slam a fist against the glass in a broken scream. Again and again, convulsing as the hits intensified. The overwhelming feeling she had dug the graves of those she loved by trusting Jasper flared her insides. Made her head pummel mercilessly. Left room for nothing but this rabid version of her. It didn’t even hurt seeing her own blood smeared over the plasin, hit after hit.

  “Stop it!” She finally made sense of Mia’s bawl, but there was no stopping now. Zoey threw herself against the glass head first. Familiar screams echoed behind. She could no longer see who it was. Damn blood got in her eyes now. She felt nothing and launched herself at the window again. Except this one time, she found herself frozen in her attempt and knew exactly who was behind this. When his voice broke, it felt like yet another knife clutching at her.

  “That’s enough.” The same authority that pissed her off hung in Jasper’s tone. “You’ll get yourself killed.” She saw the plasin turning matte before her eyes and got a real view of how her blood had stained it. Despite not seeing anything except for the single point her eyes were fixed on, she could still hear. The plasin box hadn’t been anchored against a wall like she’d imagined. A door opened behind her. And Jasper had been on the other side. If he’d unfreeze her now she’d probably throw up. The sound of a door sliding followed. Nothing was remotely sane or normal about how she felt now. She wouldn’t hesitate burning Jasper to a crisp, or so she thought. He got closer. She was not frozen anymore.

  Zoey accessed her core while still facing the plasin. Her fingers sparked. Whatever her beam held now, it felt stronger, extending vigorously through her limbs. He had it coming. He deserved it. She swallowed hard and wasted no time turning on her heels and thrusting her hands at the center of his chest. She shot, too focused on the energy to notice his hands came on hers. The fabric of his uniform dispersed a slight glow, but otherwise remained intact.

  “What?!” She heard herself saying. Looking at him was not an option yet.

  “You must think I’m stupid enough not to take precautions.” He seized her wrists with one hand. The sleeves of her navy hoodie were soaked in blood. Under closer inspection she looked feral, greeting him with a mad flicker in her eyes and a snarl. Trying to jerk away from his grasp was futile, but the hold on her wrists only got tighter. She should have showed clear signs of pain or physical discomfort by now. Jasper squeezed tighter.

  Maybe it was the adrenaline, but her eyes pierced defiantly as she tried to fling back and shove a foot in his chest. It didn’t so much as move him. Jasper’s eyes scanned the space moving from the pattern of blood spatter to the smeared motif she’d made by slamming her forearms onto the surface. Zoey panted, fighting his hold to no avail. She fixed her heels hard on the floor, pulling relentlessly. As if it wasn’t humiliating enough, he didn’t even use his other hand to restrain her. Instead, he pulled her sleeves up, inspecting her wrists for wounds.

  “Let the fuck go of me!” Her voice came out sharp. “You don’t have the balls to fight me like a real soldier.” She provoked from under the curtain of blood soaked hair. She’d split her eyebrow just enough to ensure a constant flow.

  “You’re right. I don’t.” He pulled the sleeve up to her elbow, examining the wounds. He spoke so matter-of-factly, it made her sick to her stomach. She tried to yank her arms free and once again, failed. “Either you stop this or I’ll freeze you.” There was an edge to his tone. “You’re on borrowed time.”

  There was too much adrenaline to feel anything but rage, growing like the world’s most ironic domino effect under the eyes that used to lovingly stare back. She hated herself for still finding them beautiful now. Maybe she was experiencing brain failure, but the way he looked at her wasn’t foreign nor menacing. He pitied her.

  Stop it! She had to find a way to get information if her brain still worked. Somehow.

  “Are you going to kill us?” There. It was out.

  “Would I be doing this if that was the intention?” Somehow, she’d been too distracted to focus on his hand. He was healing her forearms and his proximity was way too close for comfort. So close to her nostrils she could practically smell him. When his hand tried to reach her face she jerked, pulling abruptly to one side. “I said stay!” This side of him scared the living shit out of her, so she stilled, feeling his fingers tracing the pattern of her jaw, examining the wounds. She recognized the warm feeling of closing wounds and dissipating bruises. It brought a state of lightness and relief she didn’t want to relive. When he traced a finger on her eyebrow, she fought the instinct to shove a knee in his privates. Probably not the smartest move since he was so close to her eye. “I’ll let go of your wrists if you can muster some self-control, Zoey.”

  Again, she went against her gut and nodded. It wasn’t until he released her when she became aware of the tightness in his hold. She touched her own wrists, staining her fingers with yet another layer of red. There was no open wound this time around, just the swelling and the thick air surrounding the small matte box. Still matte and possibly soundproof since she couldn’t make out any familiar voice. Or any other sound for that matter.

  She tried to sound half calm when she spoke. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t turn against your people, and one very, very small part of me can’t blame you since you’ve spoken to me about your parents.” Pedagogy, child psychology, she was going to use all the tactics within her reach. She locked eyes with him this time. An iceberg would’ve looked warmer.

  “For what it’s worth, you and I would’ve had a shot if things were different.” The corners of his lips went up as he propped his back against the glass. His words managed to rape Zoey’s last shred of dignity, but she wouldn’t show weakness. Not if this was her last day.

  “You mean if your filthy Alliance wouldn’t want to suck my planet dry of valuable resources and dump us to chance once they’re done?”

  “If you choose to see yourself as a victim, you’ll always be one.”

  “And you, Jasper? How do you see yourself?” As a stupid pawn? A tease?

  “I don’t. You don’t stop to smell the roses or think too much when you’re in this line of work. You do what needs to be done.”

  “And what needs to be done now?” She took half a step closer until she was almost in his face.

  “We need to stop this nonsense Etienne and Mezin have mounted before it escalates. If all goes smoothly, Sam and Emma will return to their usual timelines and you guys, well… we’re debating.”

  “If you’ll let us live?”

  “Even for you, that’s naïve, Zoey.” He trailed off with a smirk. The air just wouldn’t leave her lungs, but she managed to keep the terror on the inside. Before she could say another word, she found herself frozen. The sliding door opened just enough for Jasper to step through. Her eyes caught the warm light on the other side. At least he’d frozen her in a good position to appreciate the farthest wall on the other side. And it was far. As soon as the door slid closed she was back in her own skin.

  “Zoey!” The sound of James’s voice jerked her from the wall gazing. Turning around, she could see him enough to appreciate the blood smudge around his bottom lip. She cursed under her breath, scanning the plasin box opposite hers where he’d been held. Everything felt out of place, wrong. Lilou crumpled on the floor, Mia to her left, Rufus in the box on her right, as if they purposefully separated the two people who actually had honest feelings for each other.

  �
��Sonofabitch…” Zoey shook her head, surprised at the profanities crossing her mind at that very moment. Everything was wrong. Her mind retraced Jasper’s steps with chemical clarity. He’d told her he wanted to make their relationship official just before James had moved in. It was all perfectly planned: keeping a close eye on James and making sure she was all puppy love and obedient. Giving the rest of the optans reason enough not to doubt his loyalties. The bastard had fed her crumbs of hope that they could actually have a future together. Alex and Lilou had risked everything to follow him blindly into this trap and now Emma and Sam were again, collateral damage. And none of this would have happened in the first place if she had stayed at that fucking school cafeteria Christmas party instead of following Harriet Godby’s lead. Damn the night she met James and landed herself and the people she loved in the catastrophe of today. Everyone had an agenda and she’d been thinking with her heart instead of her brain for far too long.

  “I have a confession to make.” She eyed James and spoke loud enough for him to hear, even through plasin. This should’ve been a private conversation, but fuck it, tomorrow they might as well be reduced to ashes. “I was devastated when you left! I felt my life was over, like somehow… somehow the best thing about me was you and I had lost the love that gave meaning to everything.”

  “Zoey, you don’t have to—”

  “But I do.” She peered at him through the tangle of her hair. “Because it was toxic. Because it took all this for me to realize that’s not how it’s supposed to be. Unconsciously or not, I’ve never felt like your equal, James. Not even close.”