Inside the Palisade (8 page)

“
Because
of what you are.”

“So Mom finds out that I’m a girl, normal except for my eyes,” I say.

“We had no way of knowing about that,” Ma Temple says. “We can engineer the eye color in the embryo but not after the fetus is already growing. We didn’t know until your eye color settled. Or rather colors. You were about forty weeks old. Your mother came to see me and we worked out the plan with the lenses. I’ve been helping her ever since.”

“And the Elders know?” I ask.

“One does. We needed authorization to proceed with the birth. She permitted it out of sympathy to your mother and because she felt it was fated.”

Omicron.
It must be. That’s why she wasn’t surprised when she saw my eyes.

“Ma Temple?” I ask. “What happened to my mother’s partner? Do you know?”

Gamma, who has remained by my side, reaches for what’s left of my hot chocolate and presses the mug into my hand. I raise it to my lips but don’t drink, waiting for Ma Temple’s answer.

“She left your mother. Before you were born. When she couldn’t talk her out of going through with it. I don’t think they ever spoke again.”

“What happened to her?”

“She devoted her life to protecting others from the threat of men. She never wanted anyone else to suffer your mother’s fate. She loved her so much, you see. She joined the Protectorate and did quite well. She’s a commander now.”

It can’t be.

A commander who hates my mother, accuses her of loving monsters, who can’t bear to look at me. My voice cracks on my final question. I know what the answer will be, but I have to ask. “Do you remember her name?”

“I believe it was Theta.”

My vision goes dark. This can’t be happening. That woman, that commander was my mother’s partner? It’s my fault. I turned her into that wild animal that hurts the people she’s supposed to protect, and my mother is out there with no idea. What if Theta goes looking for her?

“Omega?” Gamma is staring at me. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” I stammer, depositing my mug on the table with a clink as I rise to my feet. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

“Of course it is,” Ma Temple says as she stands beside me, concern blossoming across her face as she reaches for my elbow.

“I’m sorry. I have to process all this.” I move to the door. I should get back to my quarters. Call Upsilon with that emergency signal. What if my mother comes back, and the Protectors are looking for her? What if Theta comes looking for me and finds me
here?
I’m putting the Temples in danger by being with them. Without my communicator there’s no record I came in here, but might they have tracked Gamma’s visit to my quarters?

“Wait.” Gamma catches up to me. “Please, don’t rush away.”

“No!” My voice is harsher than I intend. “Truly, thank you
both. Thank you for telling me what I needed to know. Only I need some time. Please.”

Ma Temple pulls her daughter back. “You need time to think it all through. I understand your mother is still away. You’re welcome to stay here. We can give you some privacy.”

I want to stay here, to tell them everything that’s happened to me in the last few days, but I can’t. There’s no way I can drag my friends into this mess with Theta and that
deman.
It’s too dangerous. Struggling to keep my voice level, I say, “I appreciate it so much, Ma Temple. You’ll never understand how much, but I need to go.”

Gamma breaks away from her mother and rushes over to hug me so tight it makes my bruises flare. I bite down on my lower lip. “Promise you’ll call if you need to talk?”

“I promise.”

“And if you don’t call, I’ll come looking for you.”

I know she will, but I hope she doesn’t. Not until I can talk to Upsilon. I can’t guarantee Gamma will be safe with me. Not now.

Unable to face the stairs, I chance the elevator. I jab my index finger over and over into the button for the ground floor. The grinding gears hurt my ears. The engineers should probably look at them as well. When the doors finally open at my landing, I shuffle out and head for my quarters. The door is still snibbed open, but the lights are off. Another power shortage? I press the panel but nothing happens. Maybe it’s a blown fuse. Pulling the door closed, I head for the kitchen, arms outstretched against the darkness, to locate the emergency candles. The lock clicks behind me. I head back for the door wondering how that happened.

“Don’t bother. I deactivated the lights and rigged the door.” A disembodied voice rumbles from the living area. I whirl around barely able to make out the figure silhouetted against the sofa, bulky with squared shoulders.

The deman.

“It’s only us, Daughter Wye,” he says. His voice is deep and detached, hardly the way I remember it from the garden. He hasn’t moved a muscle. If he hadn’t spoken, I might have thought he was a mannequin placed there as a practical joke. The kind of thing Gamma might do as a prank. A flashlight blinds me. I try to avoid it, but the beam keeps moving, catching me full in the face.

“How do you know my name?”

“I almost had myself convinced I could trust you.” He trains the light at my feet. “Why don’t you have a seat, Daughter Wye? Right where you are. Back against the door please.”

There’s no option but to comply. I kneel by the door. He grunts as I curl my knees into my chest and wrap my arms around them. My thin cotton robe seems so flimsy.

Mustering what’s left of my courage, I ask, “What do you want?” As my vision begins to adjust, I make out the planes of
his face, jaw set hard, lips pressed into a thin line. He hasn’t moved from the sofa. He raises the flashlight beam and shines it directly into my eyes.

“Could you please turn that off?” I try to inject some force into my words, but I’m exhausted by everything that’s happened. If he’s going to hurt me, I almost hope he’ll do it quickly. I can’t take much more of this. Between the commander’s interrogation and the Temples’ revelations, I’m done. “This would be easier if I could see you.”

“Why?” he asks. “So you can give the Protectors a better description of me? No, Daughter Wye, I think you’ve seen enough.”

“Please stop calling me that. And turn off the light.”

“You really don’t like being looked at, do you? I thought women were supposed to like being admired. That’s what the history books say.”

“Not by someone like you.” Is there anyone who isn’t going to attack me today? And what would a
deman
know about our history books?

“By a wild evil creature, you mean?” He doesn’t try to conceal his sneer.

“You said it, not me. Why don’t you prove you’re better than that? Why don’t you let me go? Or at least have the guts to turn on the lights. If you’re going to hurt me, get on with it. Or get out.”

My arms shiver around my knees, but I hold firm. The
deman
plays the light over my features. Then, without warning, he turns it off, plunging the room into darkness.

“Stay still,” he says.

Determined to maintain some semblance of dignity, I try not to move. His measured breaths are still coming from across the room.

When he speaks again, his voice is unsteady, halting. “We made a deal, and you broke it.”

“What?” I pull my robe tight around my legs.

“You sent them after me,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d do that. I let myself believe you’d keep your word.”

“I didn’t send them.”

“How did they know where to look for me?” His voice is still coming from the sofa. He hasn’t moved any closer.

I drop my head to my knees and brace my hands around the back of my neck. “My communicator, genius. They probably scanned for it.” Then a sudden realization hits me. “The communicator. That’s how you found out my name, where I live.” He doesn’t respond. “But how did you bypass the encryption?”

Demen
are supposed to be brutes: more brawn than brain. How would he have learned to operate such a complex device? I risk a glance at him. Despite the darkness, I can make out his form, head bowed slightly forward.

“Don’t get any ideas about using it to send a message. I dumped it. She probably has it by now.

“Who?”

“Your friend. That commander. Tall and dark. With the pissy attitude. She came looking for me, with some friends. I stayed hidden, but I heard them talking. When she couldn’t find me, she decided to have another chat with you.”

“When?”

“Not too long ago. Should be here soon.”

What?

I twist around and hurl myself at the door, ignoring the pain in my arm, desperate to open it. It won’t budge. He trains the light on me. What’s the matter with him? Even if he doesn’t care what she does to me, doesn’t he realize what will happen if she catches him? I round on him, trying to keep my voice under control. “We have to get out of here. What do you think will happen if she finds us both here?”

“What do
you
think will happen?” He holds the flashlight vertically at his thigh. It illuminates his face as an eerie mask, his
features uneven and threatening in the shadows.

“Please, think for a moment. Think about what you’re doing.” I don’t know who scares me more: the
deman
in my living room, or that commander.

“If this is the only way I can find Delta, so be it. Either you agree to help me – really help me – or the Protectors can take us both.”

“How can I help you? I’m in enough trouble as it is. Because of you.” I have to press my palms into the solid panel behind me to stop myself from lunging at him. “Because of you she took me. They locked me up and interrogated me.”

“That’s why you spilled your guts to her?” He rises to his full height. I’d forgotten how big he is. I cower, but there’s nowhere for me to go.

“I didn’t have a choice. They took me. She hurt me.” Tears of frustration blur my vision. We’re going to end up back in Commander Theta’s clutches and all because I can’t get through to this brainless
deman.
He takes a step toward me and my legs go weak.

“I don’t believe you,” he says quietly. “She must have planted you outside the Clinic that night. Did they slash your arm to trick me, or did you do it to yourself?”

This is like talking to a rock. Despite my nerves screaming at me to stay put, I inch forward. He doesn’t move, doesn’t stop me. I keep moving closer, ignoring the stiffness in my legs. When I’m only a foot away, he steps to the side as if bracing for an attack. I don’t give him the opportunity to react. I grab his hand, the one holding the flashlight, and guide the beam so it’s level with my stomach. With my other hand, I pry open my robe and lift the bottom of my pajama shirt just enough for him to see the edges of the bruise where the commander punched me. “This is what that commander did to me. Because of you.”

The
deman
leans in for a closer look. I can feel his breath tickle my skin, smell the hint of oak and lavender. I force myself to stay
still.

He backs away, taking the light with him. “No. You’re working with them.”

“I’m not.”

I’m desperate for him to believe me because I’ve worked out who scares me more, and it isn’t him. I bend to retie the belt on my robe as the door rattles. He snaps off the light but not before I notice his panicked expression. There are voices outside and electronic beeps. Someone’s working the lock. It must be the commander.

“Come here.” He hisses at my ear before tugging me up on the sofa beside him. I stumble and groan at the pain in my arm. “Shh! Put your foot in my hands. I’m going to boost you.”

“What?” I can’t see anything. He grabs my bare foot and rests it in his palm. Then he interlaces his fingers beneath it.

“What are you doing?”

He shoves me upward. “Grab the edges.”

I reach for the sides of the opening to the ventilation shaft above our heads. That must be how he came in. My arms burn, but I pull myself through as he pushes me from underneath. I have only just secured myself when he barrels into me and shoves me aside to slide something across the opening: the access panel. I hold my breath as the door opens below us. A light snaps on in my quarters, causing a dappled glow to spread into the vent through the metal grate the monster has fitted into place in the nick of time.

“We’re in, Commander Theta.”

The commander’s here. With reinforcements.

The
deman
wraps an arm around me from behind and clamps his hand over my mouth. I try to pull away. It’s not as if I’m going to make a sound. He withdraws his hand, but stays close. It’s fairly dark, but enough light is coming from below to make out his features. A muscle works in his jaw as he stares at the grate. The only thing visible beneath us is the sofa. The vent is grimy and smells of mildew.

“Check the bedrooms.” The commander’s order is followed by the sound of footsteps in the room underneath us. I can’t tell how many people are down there, but they sound thorough. I can hear drawers being pulled from the dresser and cupboards opening and closing. The boy hasn’t moved, hasn’t looked at me again. His gaze is fixed on the grate. I want to get away from him, but I don’t dare. The ventilation shaft is warm and cramped. I can’t straighten my neck. He’s hunched over to fit, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.

“No one’s here,” someone says, followed by a string of curses in the commander’s angry voice. I wonder what my mother could ever have seen in her. I lean in closer to the grate, pressing my ear to the metal.

“Orders, ma’am?” the commander’s assistant asks.

“The girl was supposed to be here,” Theta says.

I was meant to be safe from the commander in my quarters. Upsilon promised.

The
deman
boy grips my shoulders. I turn to glare at him, but he only holds a finger to his lips before letting go. The commander mutters under her breath. Then something smashes from the direction of the kitchen. I cringe, remembering the dishes draining beside the sink from the last meal I shared with Mom. I never cleared them away.

The commander’s voice rings out, cold and officious. “Officer,
there’s nothing more for me to do here. The girl or her mother will return eventually. When they do, I want you to be waiting. Report in immediately.”