Luminary (18 page)
Music plays, but it is recorded music. It sounds stale. I
imagined majestic sounds—brass and strings together. But this music matches the ceremony: forced, unnatural, fake.
Alex and I walk together toward the king. He is in full regalia: robes, a crown, even a scepter. If it were not so formal and frightening, I would laugh at the arrogance of it all.
“You look beautiful,” Alex whispers into my ear, his hand caressing my arm.
I need to remember that this is my wedding day. It might not be what—or when—I imagined. But I need to enjoy it. I will not get another.
“You look very handsome yourself.” I smile at my soon-to-be husband, meaning it.
The king opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. Instead, we hear the sound of shouting from behind us. One voice in particular stands out from the others.
“Stop this now.”
Berk.
He is here.
L
et her go.” Berk stares down the guards with all the swords.
Myriad emotions battle for space in my mind and heart. Anger seems to be winning. I have a plan. Alex and I have a plan. Berk has ruined it. He will reveal the truth of who I am. He will ruin the chances that we had to come to New Hope and negotiate peace. Once again, Berk has assumed the role of rescuer. But I do not need his rescuing.
“Who are you?” The king steps forward, between Alex and me.
“My name is Berk.” His voice is strong, angry. I have never heard him like this. “I escaped the State to find refuge in New Hope—”
“Then you are an enemy.”
“I came alone,” Berk says. “Unarmed. I came only for Thalli.”
I try to look past the throng of people. I was sure he came with others. But the voices I heard were not those of the men of New Hope. They were Athenians protesting. Berk is alone. He walked into Athens alone.
“You have interrupted a royal wedding, Berk.” The king waves his hand and the crowd parts. I see Berk now. His shoulders are slumped—he is exhausted. But he holds his head high.
“The bride cannot desire this wedding.” Berk steps forward and the king tenses beside me.
“To marry the future king of Athens is a great honor.”
“To be forced into any marriage is dishonorable.”
The crowd gasps. The king slams his scepter on the ground. Berk is close enough for me to see his eyes. They are on me. Gentle, concerned, questioning.
“Guards.” The king barely contains his anger. “Arrest this man.”
“No.” I grab the king’s sleeve, almost falling to my knees in the process. He will kill Berk. He will kill him and think nothing of it. I cannot allow that to happen. “Please. He means no harm.”
“He means no harm?” The king’s voice is so loud in my ear that I feel its vibrations deep in my skull. “He dares to enter
my
city uninvited, interrupt
my
son’s wedding, make demands of
me
?”
“He does not know the laws of this city.” I dare to look into the king’s face. It is red, his eyes bloodshot. “He only means to help.”
“We will deal with him later.” The king motions to the guards. “
After
the wedding.”
“No.”
I look at Berk. He has not spoken. His mouth is a thin line as the guards yank his hands behind his back.
“Father.” It is Alex. He is speaking low, moving closer to the king. “The moment has been sullied. I do not want this memory of my wedding day. Please allow us to postpone the festivities.”
Berk looks at me. He is asking me with his eyes if I am safe. I smile and nod, wanting him to know I have not been harmed, that I am concerned for him, not for me. I try not to think of what his appearance means to our plans. I try not to think that his appearance may mean we will both die. I cannot think that. The king is whispering to Alex. I catch only a few words of their exchange. Those words, though, give me hope.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The king’s voice is still loud, but it has changed in tone. No longer short, staccato, and angry; it is warm, legato. I still hear the anger underneath, but the people seem oblivious to it. “I apologize for this unwelcome interruption to this most special of days. My son has requested that his wedding be postponed. He wants to look back on his wedding day with nothing but fond memories of his people rejoicing and his bride glowing with love.”
Berk pulls away from the guards, but he is pulled back by his hair. His eyes close and he steps back once again. I cannot move.
“Therefore I have decreed that the festivities begun today will resume tomorrow.” The king motions to the crowd. “Enjoy today with your own families and return tomorrow at this same time to watch your prince marry.”
The people clap—a slow, tentative clap at first, turning into boisterous applause with shouts and whistles. Are the
people drugged here to obey this king the way I was drugged earlier? How is it that so many people would so blindly follow this man unless they were drugged? Then I think of the State. We blindly followed the Scientists. But we were designed to do that. It was part of our makeup. Or was it? Perhaps it was simply conditioning. Like these people. If all a people ever know is blind obedience, perhaps this is the only response they are capable of giving. And perhaps just like in the State, anomalies are here too. Those who secretly refuse to obey.
“Take the prisoner to the holding chamber. I will deal with him personally.”
I want to run and throw myself between the guards and Berk, but I do not. If I do, I will lose any chance of being able to save him. So I stand and watch him be taken away, my chest heaving with unshed tears.
I will fear no evil. I will fear no evil
. I repeat those words over and over, wanting them to be true. But I am failing. I am afraid, so very afraid. Deliverance seems impossible. Did the person who wrote those words ever experience anything like this? I wish John were here to tell me, to help me. But he is not here.
I have never felt so alone.
P
lease let me see him.” I am in Alex’s room now, begging him to take me to Berk. “I can’t let your father kill him. I can’t.”
Alex walks over to me, his eyes full of compassion. He places his hands on my shoulders and forces me to look in his eyes. “We can do nothing right now. But be assured—my father will not kill him.”
“How can you know?”
Alex removes his hands and looks at the ground.
“How, Alex?” It is my turn to force his gaze to mine. “How can you know that?”
Alex takes a deep breath. “He does not kill in secret.”
“What?”
“Punishment is very public here. Everyone must watch.”
“But your mother and Diana’s father?” They were not killed publicly.
“Father did not want their crimes discovered.” Alex moves to his couch and sits. “It would have been an embarrassment to him. But when his power is challenged—he goes to great lengths to ensure the people understand that will not be tolerated.”
I recall what Peter said about his parents—burned to death. I shudder at the thought. “What will he do to Berk?”
“We’ll think of something.” Alex looks at me again, pain in his eyes. “I promise.”
“Tell me the worst that could happen.”
“No, Thalli.” Alex rubs his face with his hands.
“I need to know the worst that could happen.”
“Why?”
I pause. “Because . . . I’d rather be prepared than be surprised.”
A small smile appears. “You’d make a good ruler.”
I will not allow him to change the direction of our conversation. “Tell me.” I move to sit next to Alex so I can hear the next words clearly.
“Father prefers torture. It isn’t enough to simply kill an enemy. He believes the people must be educated. They must know that disobedience comes at a high cost.”
“I thought perhaps they were drugged and that was why they were so compliant.”
“No, not drugged,” Alex says. “Not often, anyway. Fear is a far greater and longer-lasting method of maintaining control.”
“What kind of torture?”
“Please, Thalli.” Alex looks away. “There are some images that will never be erased from my mind. I don’t want you to be forced to imagine them.”
I want to press him, but he is right. He is trying to protect me. “How much time then?”
Alex pauses. “I don’t know. Sometimes Father makes the prisoners wait, starves them, makes them beg for death. Other times he wants them to come fighting.”
“How often does this happen?”
“Not often,” Alex says. “Once every five or six years, I suppose. People try to rebel. He finds their leader and . . .”
“What do you think he will do with Berk?”
I can see him debating within himself what to say. “He wants the wedding to take place soon. When he has a plan in place, he doesn’t want that plan thwarted in any way.”
“So he will try to kill Berk soon?”
Alex looks at me. “I will not let him.”
“Can I see Berk?”
“Absolutely not. You must appear to be complying with the king’s wishes.”
“Or he will kill me too?” I fold my arms across my chest. “He’s already planning that anyway.”
“He will drug you again.” Alex raises his eyebrows at me. “I have convinced him you do not need the drugs. But if he feels you are being too troublesome, he will insist.”
I think of how I felt under the influence of those pharmaceuticals. My mind was foggy, my emotions changed. I do not want that. “All right. But I have to do something. Please.”
“Act like everything is fine, like you want to get married. Try to win my father’s affections. That will make it harder for
him to have you killed. I am trying to convince him you are more valuable alive than dead.”
“Try to win his affections?” I think I might rather die. This barbaric tyrant who is willing to kill his own wife, to torture Berk? Pretend that none of that matters? I do not think I am capable of that.
“He is not all bad.”
I forget this is Alex’s father. I do not even know what that would be like, to have parents who raised you, whom you love. Our Monitors were the closest things to parents we had, but they rotated out every few months. We never bonded with them. Never bonded with anyone but those in our pod.
“He truly believes this is the right way to rule people. He wants to be feared, it is true, but he is convinced that fear is the only way to reach our goals for this city.”
“And killing people? This helps reach your goals?”
“They aren’t my goals.” Alex releases a heavy sigh. “But I fear Father too. I don’t think he would kill me. He has no other heir. But I am not foolish enough to believe I could oppose him without facing any consequences.”
Why did I ever think that peace between Athens and New Hope would come easily? I am beginning to wonder if it will come at all. And I am convinced it will never come as long as the king lives. But I cannot say that to Alex. As much as he fears his father and realizes his practices are wrong, I doubt Alex could ever bring himself to hurt his father.
So, then, is it up to me? Can I kill this king to save his people? To save New Hope? To save Berk? Can I justify murder? What would John say? What about the Designer? Would he condone this?
I stand up to leave Alex’s room. I cannot tell him what I am thinking. I cannot even allow him to guess. “I will do what you ask.”
But that is not all I will do.
I
’ll take you to see Berk.” Helen snuck into my room just minutes after Alex left. She brought a guard’s uniform and hat.
“No one will ever believe I am a man.” I am thin and short. I do not have much of a chest, but enough is sticking out to make people look twice.
“People believe whatever makes sense. It makes sense for me to be escorted through the palace with a guard. No one will think anything of it.”
“But why are you escorted? Alex isn’t.”
“Alex doesn’t want to escape.” Helen’s voice sounds heavy, as if it is weighted down.
“But you do.”
Helen lets out a loud exhale.
“Because you fear for your life?”
Helen looks at me. “You care for Berk?”
I do not understand this change in the conversation. Perhaps she told me all she wants to tell me about her life and her difficulties. “Very much.”
“I cared for someone too.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “He escaped.”
I do not speak. Although I know what she is about to say, I also know she needs to say it. Freedom is found in speaking the truth.
Helen takes a deep breath. “Please don’t tell anyone I am telling you this. Not even Alex.”
“Alex doesn’t know?” That surprises me. I was sure the siblings told each other everything.
“Alex didn’t approve.” Helen shrugs. “Not of Peter and certainly not of my desire to escape.”
“Peter?” I try to keep my voice even, but she must hear something in my voice that betrays me.
Helen gasps. “You know him?”
“I saw him.”
“You saw him?”
I tell Helen the whole truth—about landing in New Hope, staying there, getting to know the people, coming here to try to find a way to bring peace to the cities. Helen, though, hears only Peter’s name.
“So he is alive . . .” A light enters her eyes—hope.
“He was injured. In a fire. But the last I saw of him, he appeared to be almost fully recovered. His sister was with him.”
“Diana made it?” Helen closes her eyes as a tear slips down her cheek. “My father told me Peter was killed.” Helen puts a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. “But I knew he was alive. I knew it. Thank you.”
“But how were you able to know him?” This was a question I was never able to ask Peter. Carey and Kristie told me Peter and his family were ostracized from the royal family because of their refusal to do what the king asked.
“I was given more freedom before,” Helen says, a tiny smile on her lips. “Especially after my mother died. Father—the king—didn’t care where I went or what I did. And I wanted nothing more than to be far away from here. Everywhere I went reminded me of my mother. It was so painful.”
I wait as Helen wipes tears from her eyes with the tips of her fingers. She is so well mannered. Even when she’s upset.
