PERSONAL RECORD: DESIGNATION ZETA4542910-9545E
CONSORTIUM TRAINING CENTER ALPHA, ALBANY CITY, NEW TRITON
478.3.1.04 – 478.3.1.06
When Archimedes Genet arrived shortly after nine that evening and asked for Nate and Jordan, Nate had just returned from patrolling the perimeter of the Center.
I knew exactly where Jordan was, for I had just left there myself to escort Kyleigh to a room to sleep. So, while Nate gathered his dinner, I led the captain through the lobby, through the crowded lounge, and by the doors leading to the children’s rooms, past the busy laundry room, and into the dormitory wing we had converted into an infirmary.
The marines had relocated nine of the clinic’s tanks, and Daniel had attached cables to portable chemical generators. Four retractable beds held bandaged, sleeping marines. Williams looked up from a computer, held her finger to her lips, then pointed to the beds and the Recorder-doctor. He had fallen asleep where he sat, snoring quietly in his chair, his head at an angle that guaranteed he would have neck pain when he awoke.
He had done well. He had made innumerable stitches, treated two concussions, set five bones, and saved seven lives. Three of the seven rested in the tanks: a marine named Knox, Max, and Cam.
A knot rose in my throat.
Alec had found Cam in one of the classrooms attached to the Scriptorium. When he had arrived, a seventeen-year-old Recorder in blood-soaked greys had left Cam’s side to fight off whoever came through the door.
Like the other survivors in that building, her drone had been temporarily disconnected while she was under disciplinary review. Cam had burst into the classroom, and when he saw the score of novices and young Recorders, he had found places to hide them. At the sound of footsteps, he had hidden her behind the Recorder’s desk.
Her voice had broken as she berated herself for crouching, hands over her ears as they took out their hatred on a citizen who came to the Consortium’s assistance. She had not crawled out until they had left. None of my reassurances convinced her that she could not have protected him and her assistance had saved Cam’s life.
The young Recorder had applied nanotech-saturated bandages to slow blood loss and, when those had run out, had applied direct pressure. His lacerations were deep, but the attackers had broken two ribs. His left clavicle had punctured his lung, and their final blow had damaged his spinal cord. He was stable but would remain in a tank for several ten-days. Even then, the possibility remained that the nanodevices would be unable to knit his injuries.
Now, she refused to leave Cam’s side and had fallen asleep, curled like a kitten in the chair beside his tank.
In comparison, Max was barely injured at all.
“He shall be up and about before the nanodevices eat all his hair,” the Recorder-doctor had told me.
Williams had concurred. “We simply err on the side of caution. He will be fine.”
It did not feel like he would be fine. It felt like nothing would be fine ever again, my own fate aside, even though all three tanks beeped steadily.
Both James and Jordan sat beside Max’s tank, James in an unconscious echo of his father, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. Though my first friend had refused to change from his soiled clothing, Jordan’s torn blouse had been replaced by a sleeveless overtunic of Consortium grey. A gel bandage covered the scrape on her forehead, and more encased her left forearm and covered what might have been stitches above her left clavicle.
For a long moment, Archimedes said nothing, then he asked quietly, “How are they?”
Her golden eyes, bruised by a blow and by fatigue, closed for a moment, and she touched the foot of the tank. “All three are stable. Elinor says the Recorder-doctor did well.” Her voice shook. “I could have lost him, Archimedes.”
“But you did not.” Though I had not the authority to make the claim, I added, “And you will not, Jordan. Nor you, James. I refuse to lose anyone else.”
Thalassa’s captain squeezed my shoulder and turned to Williams. “Despite the day’s events, I still need to offer my congratulations, Elinor Anne Williams.”
Her half smile faltered as soon as it formed. “Thank you. It has not been the day I had hoped for, but thankfully the Recorder-doctor is nearly as good as Max himself.”
A brief silence was broken by the Recorder-doctor’s soft snores and the tanks’ burble.
At length, Archimedes Genet said, “Jordan. I believe you know why I’m here.”
Her brows drew together. “I’m not leaving him.”
“I’ve had numerous accounts on what happened when that Eldest arrived.”
James seemed to hold his breath. He glanced at me. Jordan’s jaw tightened.
“We need you, J,” Archimedes said. “Under any other circumstance, I wouldn’t ask you to leave Max, but I trust Williams’s—Elinor’s—assessment.”
“I will stay,” James stated. “He will not be alone.”
Jordan’s gaze flicked from James to me, and without another word, she stood and left, stealing a last glance at the quietly humming tank.
Archimedes gave me a short smile, then he, too, was gone.
Before I took Jordan’s vacated chair, I peeked into the tank. Max’s dreadlocks floated eerily in the green gel. I turned away quickly.
Elinor Williams set her hand on my shoulder. “He is healing. The knife wound will take time, but the blade touched nothing vital. The greater concern is head trauma, but even that”—she drew a deep breath—“has been treated with a heavy dose of clean nanodevices.”
After a minute of silence, James asked, “What will happen to the children?”
“The ones with genetic disorders and the giftings are being taken to safety,” I said. “Some of the novices will be sent to other Centers as room allows. I do not know about the rest. I talked to a Recorder who said the transports to take the children will begin to arrive tomorrow.”
James lowered his voice. “The Caretaker who knew us has left?”
Williams spun around, all her attention on James and me and mouthed, “Someone recognized you?”
I nodded in silent affirmation, then said, “The transports should arrive shortly.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I promised I would watch over Kyleigh, but if one person denounces me, my presence will condemn her instead. Who else might know?”
“You are exhausted,” Williams said. “Go, sleep. It has been a long, horrific day.”
“I promised to stay,” he argued without heat, “and even if I had not, I would not leave.”
“In that case—” Williams handed him a blanket, then tapped my shoulder. “James and I are here with Max. With Cam. Go have a cup of chamomile tea and rest.”
James attempted a smile. I rose and placed my hand on Max’s tank, then Cam’s, then wandered back to the dormitory kitchen, where I squeezed past Lars to brew a cup of tea.
Eric dozed in the corner, his head lolling forward. When he had returned from visiting Tia, Jackson had told him about Cam. Eric’s jaw had tightened, but he had taken the news silently and joined the young Recorder in pacing the hall until Elinor announced that Cam was safely in a tank.
Nate and Jordan were still in conference with the captain when a communications link on the table buzzed, and Zhen checked it.
“Moons and stars,” she huffed. “That woman never gives up.”
“Which woman?” I asked.
“The deputy prime minister is trying to contact J again.”
Alec, who had sprawled in a chair with his head back, did not open his eyes. “What does she want?”
“A public appearance from the heroes of Training Center Alpha.”
I choked on my tea.
Alec didn’t move. “She just wants to be reelected.”
Jackson limped in, Quincy ambling after him. The marines who noticed them pushed themselves to their feet, but Jackson held up his hand and cut through the lounge into the meeting with Archimedes, Jordan, and Nate.
“Three things,” Quincy announced. “One, I never thought I would need to put bedtime routines to work on such a scale. I thought putting two girls to bed was rough.”
Someone laughed.
“They were really good, though,” another marine said from the corner. “Hey, Lars, I need another ice pack.”
I ducked as a small bag of ice came flying from the kitchen and hit the man in the chest.
“Two.” Quincy paused until everyone was looking at him. “Michaelson sent a heads up from command: Guess which group of marines will be looking for new jobs in the near future?”
A chill poured down my spine. To deprive them of their livelihood for saving children?
Lars poked his head from the kitchen, his jaw slack. “What?”
“You heard me.”
The general uproar woke Eric and brought Alec upright.
The noise faded into discontented grumbles, and someone said, “Maybe a public appearance won’t be a bad thing in this case. Garner all the sympathy we can get.”
Ice-pack marine moaned. “I told you no good deed goes unpunished.”
Quincy glanced at the closed door leading to the dormitories. “I’d do it again.”
Consensus rippled through the room.
“At least we have warning,” the woman said.
“Three,” Quincy began.
Hodges interrupted the scattered moans. “It’s worse, isn’t it?”
I bit my lip. What could be worse?
“Julian Voided Ross overpowered his militia guards and got away.”
It was as if someone had punched me. Every shadow in the room crept like claws to grab at us, but outrage energized everyone else.
“They have no idea where he disappeared to,” Quincy said, “but if I have to live off caffeine for the rest of my life, he’s not going to hurt a single kid here.”
The chorus of agreement was soon overtaken by general discontent that they did not have proper weapons. I took my tea and made my way to the front doors to stand in the night. Eric followed me out.
“Zeta, you all right?”
“No,” I said truthfully.
“Me, neither. Worried about Ross?”
“Yes.” I looked up at the dim blur of the moon through the dome. “And Max. And Cam.”
“And Kye. If she can’t pull this nanite thing off, the Eldest’ll space her and you.”
We stood side by side and watched the dim glow of the moon through the dome.
I took a sip of tea. “How is Tia?”
“Better.” He leaned back against the smooth outer wall. “If she’ll let me, I’ll be a constant for her. I’m not giving up.” Half a smile edged across his tired face. “I love her, you know. Have for years. I’ll do whatever shift they give me here, check on Cam, then head over there tomorrow.”
Given the Eldest’s irregular behavior, my future was uncertain, as the chip in my arm testified. I blew the steam away from my cup of chamomile tea and said simply, “Tomorrow.”
Over the next two days, a citywide curfew kept citizens off the streets as armored transports took all but sixty-five of the children away. The little one who had held my hand and the blue-eyed novice were among those rejected for a second time in their young lives, this time by the organization that had claimed to be their home. The former had yet to speak, and the latter remained detached, save around the youngest ones for whom the novice seemed to have appointed herself Caretaker.
Citizens arrived at the unrepaired gates to gawk, but occasionally to offer food or help. We typically refused both, with two welcome exceptions. Lars’s Clarissa arrived early on the first day. She had known that Lars was inbound and requested time off to meet him. Having seen the news reports, she fought her way through the crowds the first morning and appealed to Jackson, waving her credentials and citing her experience with children.
The other exception arrived that afternoon. Daniel escorted the petite woman with greying hair to the southwest dormitory. When the woman caught sight of Kyleigh, tears sprang to her brown eyes, and she cried out. In an instant, Melody Lu had outsprinted most people half her age. They clung to each other, and I could not say who cried harder, Kyleigh or her mother.
Kyleigh convinced Nate to restore power to the science laboratories. She fell to work on designing her prototype, her mother a willing assistant, though her specialty as a geneticist did not include nanotechnology. She was, however, fascinated with any tales of the roaches, relentlessly questioning anyone who would talk about them.
The Recorder-doctor had neither left nor received his drone, but he settled into a routine and readily accepted Elinor Williams as his assistant, though he seemed uneasy around most of the citizens. By the morning of the second day, only one infirmary bed was in use, though the tanks still hummed. James and Jordan rarely left Max’s side, and Kyleigh and Eric were regular visitors.
Everyone was waiting, though to what end, no one would say, save to be certain the injured would improve and homes would be found for the children. No one spoke of my fate, but those who had witnessed the Eldest’s behavior were inordinately kind to me.
The second afternoon, I took a bag of food pellets and walked to the tilapia ponds. I had always found it peculiar that when I tossed handful after handful to the fish, their frantic greediness was quieting. I neared the bottom of the bag when Nate jogged up and announced that the Recorder-doctor had drained Max’s tank.
Without a cane and my leg still weak, I was not fast enough, so I missed it when he thrashed as Elliott had. I missed it when his eyes flew open, when his brain and body synchronized. When I arrived, he was already out of the tank and in a bed, blinking at the dormitory infirmary’s unfamiliar surroundings.
“How are you feeling?” the Recorder-doctor asked.
“I’m . . .” Max rubbed his eyes. “We made it?”
“Yes.” Jordan gripped the foot of the bed. “Robert James Maxwell, never scare me like that again.”
The Recorder-doctor’s eyes widened as he glanced from Max to Jordan, and his complexion suffused with color. “I . . .” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, then turned to Elinor Williams. “I must go check on supplies. Please remain and observe.”
Even the back of his head seemed pinker as he strode away.
“Elinor?” I asked quietly.
She, too, watched Max and Jordan, a soft smile on her face. “I believe,” she said, “that it is well.”
Max cleared his throat, then asked, “Last I remember we were . . .” His eyes found James. “You’re all right. What happened?”
“It would seem,” James said, intent on Max’s face, “that my father saved my life and took a blade meant for me.”
The room hushed.
Max’s brown eyes riveted on his son. “You know?”
“I suspected, but my friend—my first friend”—James offered me a quiet smile before turning that smile on Max—“has confirmed it.”
They spoke quietly, but I did not listen. Instead, I leaned against Nate, well content. I could feel him soak up their happiness as a sponge soaks up liquid. Whatever happened next, this was what mattered.
Once their conversation slowed, Jordan cleared her throat. “Max?”
“Venetia?”
“I know this isn’t the right time, but stars above, I’m not waiting any longer.”
Max blinked once more. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know how I missed it.” She drew in a deep breath. “You are the best and kindest man in the system, and somehow . . .”
He went very, very still, but his eyes searched hers.
Her beads clattered softly as she lowered herself to the edge of the bed and bent toward him. Lips millimeters apart, sharing the same breath, she said, “Somehow I didn’t know that I love you,” and kissed him.
I could not breathe until his hands moved up her arms to slide around her. I closed my eyes, for some things were not meant to be witnessed. Only Nate’s steady heartbeat against my back, the faint burbling tanks, and the dim hum of electronic devices challenged the low purr of the generators.
“Venetia,” Max murmured.
I decided it was safe enough to peek. I was correct.
“I love you, Max,” Jordan repeated, her forehead against his, not seeming to care who heard. “Your heart, your kindness, your patience, your faith. The way your smile creeps up from the right side of your mouth when you’re happy, the way you tug on your ear when you’re thinking.”
“You want the truth?”
She pulled back, drew a deep breath. “Always.”
A smile as deep as space is wide spread across his face. “You had my heart the first time I saw you throw a punch. You were glorious. You still are.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” she whispered.
Running footsteps sounded in the hallway, but perhaps I was the only one to hear them.
He brushed braids back and traced his thumb over her high cheekbone. “If all I could do was to be your friend, it had to be enough. I certainly didn’t believe you would see me as anything else.”
She wrapped her long arms around him and held him tight.
Zhen and Alec skidded into the room. One brow raised, Alec glanced at Nate, who nodded, but Zhen folded her arms.
“Well,” she huffed. “All I can say is it’s about time.”
Still, the Eldest did not call on me, and no news regarding the children arrived. The tracker in my arm continued to glow and pulse occasionally, making my whole arm tingle. Hope rose and fell in a sine wave, but my mind kept returning to Lorik and the look on Elinor Williams’s face when she said that Connor Edwards did not know her name.
Archimedes Genet visited again and brought the cats with him, though he kept Macavity for a mascot, to the competing chagrin and delight of the kitchen staff. It was, he said, an investment in the children’s health to leave the rest of the cats in our care. Bustopher adapted readily, though Hunter and her kittens hid in Kyleigh’s closet.
That evening, Jordan announced that she had accepted the deputy prime minister’s invitation to a presentation for the following day, and that the condition was that we all attended. The idea of being summoned again to a public tribunal stole my peace.
While everyone else was at dinner, I snuck in to visit Max, Bustopher at my heels. The cat jumped onto Max’s bed, and for once, Max did not shoo him away. I pulled a chair close and explained that if the next day went well, I would tell the others myself. If, however, the Eldest had her way, someone needed to know my name. Unlike Edwards, I could not write a note.
“Do you mind?” I asked him.
“No.” He smiled, though his nut-brown eyes did not crinkle, only glistened. “Thank you.”
“You will tell them, if . . .”
“I won’t need to.”
I tapped my thigh, but when he held out his hand, I stopped and accepted the offering.
“I would come with you, if I could,” he said.
“I know.”
Though I wanted to reassure him that this wasn’t goodbye, I could not finish. Instead, I pulled my hand away and fled, bumping into James on my way to the brook I had loved as a child.
James followed me, not a difficult task, as my strength had not returned. He handed me a new cane, explaining that it had taken a while to find a suitable material. Then, he settled beside me on the mossy rocks, like he had years before, and we watched the water ripple.
After uncounted minutes, he asked, “Are you concerned about facing the Eldest again?”
I attempted to raise but one brow.
He plucked a blade of grass and tossed it into the brook. The current carried it beyond a bend. “I would be, if I were you.”
“It is not solely my fate,” I confessed. “You were present, James. I am afraid for my friends’ reactions. Kyleigh herself admitted to being my friend, and . . .”
He nodded, and the diamonds in his ears sparkled. “I have been thinking of my sister.”
I sighed at the change in subject.
“My sister and you.” He ran a hand over his short hair and grimaced. “The tracker in your wrist and the one in hers. They could be removed.”
“I cannot risk it, James,” I said, “not now that I am near the Consortium network, but yes, your sister could have removed hers.”
He regarded me steadily. “If she lives, she is in danger, for even if she fights off the virus, she cannot seek help for nanodevice clumping.”
I had not considered that. “What do you plan to do?”
“Nothing, as of yet, but I believe I must leave.”
“The Eldest herself is deceived, James. You need not.”
“To stay is to endanger you all, to place Kyleigh in danger.” His eyes seemed to focus on a middle distance. “Risking Kyleigh,” he said, as if to himself, “would be more heinous than wiping a star from the heavens, for there are many stars and only one Kyleigh Rose Tristram.”
He stood abruptly, and I did the same.
“Perhaps I will seek for my sister. If she survived, she will still have nanodevices in her blood and cannot go for help without betraying herself. She will be in danger.”
My throat tightened.
Silver eyes met mine. “My friend, if this is your last night here—and I refuse to admit it is—you should use it wisely. Spend it with those whose lives you have enriched, with those who love you. Not alone.”
As I watched him walk away through the gathering dusk, I admitted to myself that James was correct. I should not hide.
Lorik had said that he found freedom in his choice of service and sacrifice. Max had said that it was my heart, my choices that mattered.
This moment was all I had for any certainty. I brushed my leggings free of debris and went to find my Nathaniel. For the time I had remaining, I chose to live.