Rebellion (9 page)

She doesn't answer me; she looks to the ground, though, and I have my answer. “Why did he hit you?” When she doesn't answer, I twist back around to Tristan. He looks just as gaunt as she does. “Why?” I repeat.

“She couldn't tell them where Evie and Asher went.” His voice has changed, too. He's lost a little of the innocence he had before. And his mannerisms. I can see Dad in them, in him, so clearly it makes my eyes sting.

“She didn't know.”

“She told him that. He didn't believe her.”

“Well, beating it out of her isn't going to give him the answers he wants.” I clench my teeth. “It's him that deserves a beating.”

“Don't worry,” Tristan says. “I took care of that already.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

“When he hit her, I saw it. I made sure he didn't do it again.” He looks to the pot lying on the ground. “We're not allowed in the village anymore.”

“Wait. What?” My head feels like it's going to explode. I'd expected them to be in a bit of trouble, not a full-blown epic mess.

“We're not allowed in the village. Mom or me. Because I attacked the mayor and that's our punishment. We can't trade Mom's sewing or dresses or embroidery for money or anything. We can't go to the general store or even the doctor. And it's my fault.” He looks back up at me and tears are welling in his eyes. “I shouldn't have hit him. But I couldn't let him hurt Mom like that. And it wouldn't have been so bad, but I can't hunt like you did and the other hunters aren't allowed to teach me. So we just have what we can grow and what I do manage to catch. Mostly fish.” He makes a face. “I'm beginning to hate fish.”

I hold my arms out to him and at first he just stands there. Then he rushes into them, and his tears start soaking my shirt, because ultimately, he's only ten, and he's had to carry the weight of a man. I close my eyes. This is my fault. How many times did he beg me to teach him to hunt, but I said no, because I wanted the quiet, the false peace?

I pat and rub his back. “Shh. It's okay. You did the right thing. It's not your fault.” It's mine. But I don't say it. I just let it fester. “I'm back now. And I'm going to fix everything.”

There's no way I'm going to let Mayor St. James get away with hurting my mom, not after what he's already done to my family. He's going to pay for what he's done and I don't care what I have to do to make sure of it.

 

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

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—
E
LYSIUM
T
OWERS
R
ESORT FLYER

Evie

I may not have been able to say good-bye to Gavin, but that doesn't mean I didn't watch him go. Was it silly and stupid not to say it? Yes, but I felt like if I said it, it would be forever and if I didn't, he'd have to come back. To argue with me at least for
not
saying it.

I know it was logical for him to go. That in order to give the Citizens even a chance at the freedom I've known because of him, he had to go. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. Or sit around and twist my hands together and wait. With Asher still confined to bed, I decide to start the other part of our plan by myself.

Getting the people to trust in me and turn from Mother. And I know exactly what to start with.

Dr. Moreau.

Father checked on him earlier, but I didn't get a chance to talk to him myself. Seems the perfect time to do so. Hopefully he's able, not to mention willing, to see me.

I peek into the nook that's his room. It's not far from Asher's. He's lying on his back, but he's awake. He's just staring at the ceiling.

I clear my throat and step in when he twists to look at me. “How are you doing?”

“I hear I have you to thank for saving me from my own device.”

I bite my lip. His tone is so accusatory I don't know what to say, so I smooth my skirt and then take the seat next to him. “Should I apologize?” I ask.

A smile finally creeps over his face. “No.” He shakes his head. “In fact, I probably should for being rude to you.”

“Don't worry about it,” I say. “You have every right to be as angry and rude as you want to be.” I gesture to his missing arm. “Does it hurt?”

“No. Surprisingly. Father's got me on a pretty good dose of painkillers while the nanos finish repairing it. But it's strange to want to reach for something, only to remember I can't.”

“I'm sorry.”

He doesn't say anything. He just stares at where his arm is supposed to be and I don't know what else to say. It's not like the nanos will be able to help his arm regrow. That would have been a nice feature, but I'm fairly certain it wasn't one of Mother's priorities when she was having Lenore and Father design them.

Lost for words, I press my lips together and swing my legs between the chair legs. “I … I guess I should let you rest.”

I start to turn away, but he grabs my wrist with his one hand. “You have to tell people what Dr. Friar did. All those people. Dead.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have to find his documents. It's all there on the data cube. The people he kidnapped. The experiments. What happened. Who died. How.” He pulls me closer. “They all had families. Every single one. They need to know what happened to them.”

I nod. “Where do I go?”

He lets go of my arm and leans back against his pillow with his eyes closed. “If I knew that I wouldn't be missing an arm.”

I press my lips together and move my gaze to the floor. I have to remind myself that his tone has nothing to do with me, and more the situation.

For a few minutes, we sit in silence, with only the beeping of his machines to mark the time. Finally acknowledging that my visit here was a lesson in futility, I push my chair back with a squeal of its legs against the rock. “I'm sorry for bothering you.” I nod once and twist my body to start walking toward the door.

“He knew I took them,” Dr. Moreau says, stopping me in mid-step. I turn to face him when he continues. “I thought I was being slick, by taking them a few days ago and not planning on doing anything with them until later, but Father says you found the box in my drawer, which means that Dr. Friar knew. He has the cubes.”

“Do you know where he might keep them?”

“He thinks I'm dead and his little hidey hole is safe. He's going to be smug. And that means he put them back exactly where they were before I took them. In his office. In the same cabinet as he does the Conditioning serum.” He's staring at me, meeting my gaze full on. “You have to stop him from doing
this
,” he gestures to his missing arm, “to anyone else.”

“I will,” I promise, but I have no idea
how
I'm going to do it. I don't even know if I
can.
Just the thought of having to enter Dr. Friar's office again sets off every horrible memory I've ever had there. My whole body shudders as I stand and leave the room. And that's if he's right and the cubes are even there. If they aren't, I've no idea where to start looking.

I'm not sure what to do now. It's still too early to even think about going to Dr. Friar's and I
don't
want to think about Gavin and everything that could be going wrong right now.

So I wander around until I find my way back to the room with all the artifacts. I don't know how long I spend sitting at the decrepit table looking at everything and taking it all in. All of the items are so captivating, it's easy to lose track and just let my mind wander
and
wonder over the pieces. I have to admit, I'm most fascinated by the electronics, but no matter how many of the buttons I press and no matter the order, nothing happens.

“Whoa!” Asher says from behind me. I'd heard him coming. In this quiet tomb, it would have been impossible not to.

He stares around the room, wide-eyed. “What is all this?” He walks over to another of the electronics, one similar to the one in my hand, and picks it up, frowning at it. “My grandmother used to have something like this.”

“What is it? I can't get it to work.”

“She called it a tablet, I think.” He turns it around and around, looking at it from every angle before pausing at the hole in the bottom. “Oh yeah.”

He looks around the desk, then picks up a white cord that's plugged in to the outlet in the center. He slides it into the hole. Nothing happens, so I shake my head and put mine down. He continues to play with the machine. Jiggling the cable. Pressing the buttons. Turning the whole thing facedown. The screen remains blank. I decide to glance through the drawings of Elysium Towers again.

When I'm flipping through the drawings for the umpteenth time and spinning the coin from earlier on the table, his machine suddenly makes a strange dinging sound and a little rectangular red picture with a lightning bolt inside it lights up.

“What did it do?” I ask, giving it the side eye.

He laughs. “It's working. That's what. I can't believe something this old is still working.”

I get up to stand next to him. “What does it do?”

“You'll see.”

It takes another few moments before a white symbol—the same one from the back of it—pops onto the screen. A few seconds after that another symbol—the one that's on the bottom of all the blueprints—replaces the first one. The screen asks us to unlock it and Asher slides his finger across the bottom of the screen.

The entire screen fills up with a dozen or so symbols. But these are all different colors. There's one that looks like a music note inside a circle. Another that looks like an old analog clock. One with an
A
made of pencils.

“It's pretty,” I hedge, not exactly sure what I'm supposed to be seeing.

Asher's lips quirk into a grin and he touches a finger to a symbol that has the caption, P
HOTOS
. Dozens of tiny little pictures pop onto the screen with dates above them. They're all from about ten years before the war ended.

He taps the screen and the original symbols are back. He clicks on one called
VIDEOS
. There's only one. More curious than I'd like to admit, I touch it. The whole screen blips and then the video starts playing.

The “camera” pans over a surprisingly horrible animated picture of Elysium with even more horrible animated pictures of dolphins and whales and rays swimming by, before panning in to reveal happy smiling people looking at the creatures from the other side of the glass in Sector Two.

“Has the war got you down?” a male voice blasts from the ancient Slate. “Dive into the exquisite beauty of Elysium Towers. A place where the fun never ends. A world filled with wonder and amazement. Where you can stay and play with your favorite creatures and fall asleep to the songs of whales. Where the memories you make will last lifetimes. Book now and receive rates as low as two hundred dollars per person per night. Plus a six hundred dollar airfare credit. Kids under twelve eat free at any of our sixteen famous restaurants. Make time for fun. Make time for Elysium Towers.”

“What was
that
?” I ask, laughing so hard I have tears pouring down my face.

Asher's laughing too hard to respond, but he taps it again and the video replays, panning over different aspects of Elysium as it was before Mother made it a city. It shows people lounging, people reading, people having fun. People, people, people. All of them smiling and happy.

Nadia pokes her head into the doorway. A strange expression crosses her face when she sees the images on the screen.

“I remember that,” she says quietly. It's almost sad how she says it, and immediately both Asher and I bite our lips to stop our laughter. She shakes her head. “I
hated
that commercial.” She gives us an amused look. “Strange, the things you miss after a while.” She shakes her head and goes back to her normal irritated state, staring daggers at Asher. “You, young man, were supposed to stay in your room. You may feel better, but it will take a while for your body to get used to the nanos. Get back to your cot.”

His eyes plead with me to let him stay and play with the neat new gadget, but I just give him my “not a chance” look and shrug. He pouts, but stands and walks from the room.

Nadia turns to leave as well, but I shove up from the table. “Nadia. I need a way to show this order to everyone in Elysium.” I unroll the Enforcer's order I picked up in Dr. Moreau's office and hold it out to her. “I figure we can make copies of it and hand them out to people in Sector Two.”

She narrows her eyes when she sees the order. “How do you want me to copy this? And if you go out there, they will know you're still alive. There will be no doubts. I didn't save you to have you killed twenty-four hours later.”

“I know. That's the problem. We'll need some sort of distraction.” I glance down at the pre-Slate in my hand and a smile raises the corners of my lips. “I don't suppose Mother would be too happy to have her Citizens realize that their ‘
city
' was just a really expensive hotel.”

She gives me a considering look. “That is a good idea, but might I suggest something a little less…” I think she's going to say
stupid,
but she only says, “… obvious than you outing yourself? How about we give this to Father. He'll know how to get it off that and onto everyone's Slates without Mother knowing where it came from.”

“He's not going to risk that.” A sense of déjà vu hits me and I frown, but shake it off.

“I'm sure the distraction will help with that.”

I weigh the benefits of that against the drawbacks. I somewhat begrudgingly have to admit her idea is better. “Okay. Sure. Thank you.”