SAGE
Ollie clawed at the base of the tree, whimpering, begging for me to bring him along like I always did when I climbed the giant oak tree in our front yard back home. But I knew those branches by heart; I’d been navigating them since I was four years old.
This tree was similar—the branches thick, the trunk large, the leaves full with the start of summer—but I didn’t know where my next handhold would come from, and I had to climb high to see over the wall. Ollie watched me with his brown eyes, twenty feet below.
“Ollie, stop whining. I’ll be back down in just a second.”
But I felt just like him. When we arrived at the tree, I hadn’t wanted to put him down. I clung to him, my dog, my last scrap of home, as if I lost him, I’d lose myself.
Which I probably would.
I wedged my foot between a small branch and the trunk of the tree, hoisting myself yet a little higher. A few more feet of elevation, and I’d be able to see over the wall.
Up here, the branches thinned, and I hugged the trunk, both feet on one limb.
I pulled myself another branch higher, my view finally extending beyond the wall.
And … nothing.
Well, not nothing. Lots of something—only rolling hills covered in trees. That’s it. In every direction. Trees and trees and trees.
No houses, no buildings, no body of water, no roads, no help.
I don’t know what I’d been hoping to see—perhaps signs of life nearby, the existence of people outside Vasterias who were living happily in oblivion, even with a corporate mansion in their backyard.
I think I’d hoped to see that island community. That old man in his blue shirt and red boat. Those kids, dancing in the misty rain.
But instead, nothing.
I was alone.
Ollie barked at me from below, cutting through my thoughts.
I began climbing down, disappointed, trying to tell myself it didn’t matter.
Anyway, what would I have done if someone, or some house, had been nearby? How would that get me to Finn, halfway across the world on some island I didn’t even know the location of? Perhaps I could go to the police? How wide did Vasterias’ influence reach around here?
What about hitchiking? A highway ran along the front of the property, back where we’d entered the gates. Now that I had Ollie, I could make it to that highway, stay off the road in the trees until a car came by, and then see if I could hitchhike a ride to the closest town? I’m sure I could scale this wall to escape if I tried hard enough. I’d just have to tie Ollie to my back.
My hands and feet moved branch by branch until I neared the bottom limbs of the tree, my body facing in toward the trunk.
Or, what about someone on the inside? Was there anyone who actually worked for Vasteria’s that I could fool into trusting me, into helping me back to the island?
“Enjoying the general splendor of the grounds?”
The sudden voice from the grass below surprised me. My foot slipped off the branch. I grabbed for a limb to rebalance, but my hand missed. I started to fall. I fell inward, toward the tree, and instinctively, my arms wrapped around the trunk. My cheek scratched along the bark. Heat rose to my cheeks, both at my injury and embarrassment at my blunder. But at least I’d stopped myself from falling to the ground below.
I stretched out my leg, unwrapping it from the trunk, trying to find purchase on the nearest branch. It was a few inches too far away.
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Here, let me help.”
Below, a tall, thin man stretched his arms up the trunk. He wore a plaid vest and had long, silver hair pulled into a ponytail.
“Here, are you able to reach your foot to my hands? I can hold you up so you can reach that branch.”
“Don’t touch me!” I cried.
I hoped my anger masked my fear. What was this man doing here? How did he appear out of nowhere? Why hadn’t Ollie warned me?
“I’m so sorry. I was in the gazebo and saw you climbing. I thought I’d come and say hello.”
The gazebo? Why didn’t I notice him before?
Still reaching my leg toward the branch, I glanced down at the man. His voice sounded genuine, the look in his eyes sincere.
My foot finally made contact with the limb, and I inched myself down the trunk onto the branch. Ollie sniffed the grass nearby, his tail wagging, not at all disturbed by the stranger.
I was almost close enough to the ground to jump, but part of me felt much safer up in the tree.
Ollie trotted up to the man’s feet, and the man bent over, his silver ponytail falling over his shoulder. He patted Ollie on the head.
“Dogs have a sense of people, you know,” he said, rubbing Ollie’s ears.
“Look,” I said, “I’m not here at this place by choice, so if you think I’m—”
“I know who you are.”
My chest tightened.
The man stood from his bent posture, placed his hands on his hips and leaned back, stretching as if he’d been sitting for a long time. Ollie trotted off again, in the direction of the white gazebo.
“I mean you no harm,” the man added. “I’m on the board for Vasterias. I’ve come into town for the gala.” He smiled out across the property. “I arrived a day early for the sole purpose of touring the gardens. My name is Dr. Evans.”
A doctor just like the rest of them.
As if reading my mind, he added, “I’m a doctor of philosophy, not science. I teach at Oxford.”
My eyes scanned the man, taking in his aura, the casual way his arms now dangled at his sides. His posture didn’t appear threatening. But looks told me nothing anymore about who and who not to trust. And this guy had appeared out of nowhere.
As if sensing my apprehension and my unwillingness to converse, Dr. Evans nodded at me and turned away, walking back toward the gazebo.
But he paused a little way from the tree.
“I knew your father,” he said. “I haven’t seen him for a very long time, but we were good friends back when he first approached Vasterias with his science. We saw things in the same light, your father and I. We both saw how good the code could be, but we also saw what could happen if it got into the wrong hands.”
This news sent an ache through me. He knew my father—the man who wanted nothing to do with me and everything to do with the code inside of me.
“But that’s exactly what happened,” I said, bitter. “It did get into the wrong hands.”
“Yes, unfortunately, it did. His partner, Dr. Adamson, had different visions for it.”
Dr. Evans rubbed at his neck, as if looking up at me in the tree had produced a crick in his neck.
“So how can you stay a part of it if you don’t agree?” The condemning tone in my voice was obvious as I lowered to the bottom branch of the tree.
“Well, I won’t pretend I’m not displeased with the current state of affairs. But I still want to push forward with what your father originally intended for the code. I’m hoping my position on the board is more helpful than harmful.”
“And so you don’t mind using me, using my body, like the rest of them.”
Dr. Evans pulled a small orange flower out of his vest pocket and twirled it between his fingers. “I never said that.”
“Well, what then? Do you agree or disagree?”
Dr. Evans stared at the flower. “Human life was, and I believe still is, very sacred to your father. He never intended for it all to unfold in this way. Neither did I. But you cannot blame them—the owners of Vasterias—for how they act.”
At this, I jumped down to the ground and stood from my crouch.
My voice rose at Dr. Evans. “Blame them?”
At the sound of my voice, Ollie came running toward me.
“Blame them? Of course, I can blame them! They—and you—have ruined my entire life, killed nearly all of the people I love the most.”
Dr. Evans didn’t respond.
For a moment, all that floated in the air between us was my heavy breathing.
It was time to go. I went to scoop up Ollie, but he dodged me, maybe knowing I intended to leave. I cursed the dog under my breath. I wanted out of here, away from this man. I jogged around the side of the tree, toward Ollie, who now sniffed at a flower bush.
“Everyone has fears. Do you believe that?” Dr. Evans said. “Everyone lives with those fears and does the best they can. The CEO, the shoe shiner. Both still have fears. Everyone desires to be in control of their life. Do you agree?”
“Why would I agree with anything you’re saying?” I said.
“Your father did.”
That reference was too much.
“Ollie!” I cried. “Get over here.” I grabbed for Ollie’s tail, but he slipped away, a game for him now.
“But here’s the great equalizer,” Dr. Evans called after me. “We all die. No matter how much power, how much control, how many assets, how much wealth, we all only live so long. 107 years? 110 at the longest? Maybe twenty years more than that with technology in the future. Regardless, eventually, none of it matters.”
Ollie paused, tail wagging, looking back at me, waiting. Before he could evade me again, I dove and scooped him into my arms.
“Your father wanted to fill the world with good, Sage. Remember that, if nothing else. Only the good matters.”
I snorted, striding away. We were going somewhere else, away from this man and his ramblings.
How could any of this fill the world with good? All this—all the mutations and science and corporations, all my father had created—had only ever brought me pain.
“I believe in good, and I want to help you if you’ll let me. A man will meet you in your room tonight. Listen to what he has to say.”
I spun at Dr. Evans’s last words, to see his face, to grasp the nature of his intent, but he was already at the gazebo again, standing inside, not even looking in my direction.
He stared out across the green rolling hills of the property, twirling that orange flower between his finger and thumb.