Violet (17 page)

The Scientist looks at me skeptically. “Violet,
this is dangerous. You and David really shouldn’t be involved. The
Vox will not have mercy on you because of your age. They will hurt
you. They’ll torture you until they know. They’ll kill him right in
front of you if they have to.”

I know all this. My resolve does not waver. “My
father is dead. I’m going to make sure that he didn’t die for
nothing. I’ll do it with or without you, but I could really use
your help. Where did my father hide the Cube shard?”

The Scientist avoids my gaze. He looks down at
the BioMech. “I’m sorry, Violet. I just don’t know. Your father
insisted that he be the only one who knew of its location.”

I’ve got to think. Surely something that I’ve
seen, something that my father has told me will give me some
indication of what my next course of action should be. It is
imperative that The Vox never find my father’s piece of the Cube—or
any Cube shard, for that matter. Suddenly, it hits me.

There was one place that did not
diminish.

Violet Massassi is the name my father gave
me.

Massassi was the first woman on Earth.

My father told me where to go.

“Can you help us get to Earth?”

* * *

David and I are seated in the common room with
Cecil and Arielle. When I told The Scientist that I believe my
father hid a Cube shard on Earth, he was not exactly receptive to
the idea. He told us that Earth is too dangerous. He told us that
we would be robbed and murdered, and if we weren’t, we would die of
thirst. “Earth has nothing for you,” he said.

But I will not be deterred. Why else would my
father have given me this name? I know that he was trying to tell
me where the Cube shard is hidden. If something happened to him, he
wanted me to be able to find it. I will not shame him in death as I
did in life. I will finish what my father started.

Arielle begins, “I’m sure you’re aware, but I
feel the need to make sure that you two really, truly understand
what you’re getting into. Earth is more than dangerous. It’s
deadly. The atmospheric conditions are difficult to adapt to;
either of you could die from the exposure alone. Do you
understand?”

I nod, and then I look at David. “David, I want
you to stay behind.”

David balks. “Violet, there’s no way I’m letting
you go alone! We’re in this together.”

I shake my head emphatically. “We don’t have to
be. In fact, we
shouldn’t
be. I pulled you into this mess
before I really knew what it would entail. It’s one thing to have
you with me in Summus. I’m risking your life on an entirely
different level if I let you come with me to Earth.”

“Violet, are you hearing yourself? If you
let
me come with you? I’d like to see you try to stop me.
You’re not going alone. That’s the end of it.”

I soften. “David, I can’t have another death on
my conscience… Especially not yours. Don’t you understand? I just
couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”

“I understand what you’re saying, Violet, but I
need
you
to understand
me.
You couldn’t live with
yourself if something happened to me, but I couldn’t live with
myself if I let you go alone.”

I smile sadly. “I guess we’re at a
stalemate.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Cecil says, “but as we
told you, Earth is very dangerous. You’re less likely to be
targeted if you’re together. Violet, David is willing to go with
you; I think you should let him.”

David smiles. “It’s settled, then.”

I’m not so sure, but I’ll let it go for now.

Arielle begins again, “We still have contacts
within The Vox. If you’re sure you want to do this, we can get you
on a Traveler tomorrow.”

David and I look at each other, then back at
Arielle. “We’re sure,” he says.

“All right, then. You’ll both be hidden in plain
sight as criminals convicted and sentenced to Earth Banishment. The
V1’s who work on these ships often dock at a separate station for
months between transports. It’s their assignment to keep the
station in working order and to monitor the satellites and
detectors for unfamiliar ships. If we’re lucky, they won’t know
what either of you looks like because they’re not on Cerno most of
the time.”

It’s not that I’m not afraid; I’m terrified. But
I won’t show my fear to Cecil and Arielle. I want to honor my
father, and I don’t want to be seen as weak. I do not need to be
cared for. I can complete this mission.

I nod in assent. “That sounds like a plan. Let
us know what we need to do.”

Cecil interjects. “Forgetting something?”

I don’t think so…

“Aren’t you wondering how you’re going to get
back?”

I feel foolish. There would be no point in
getting to Earth if we didn’t have a way back.

“That’s the tricky part,” says Arielle. “There’s
only one other transport scheduled that we know of; it’s exactly
one week from tomorrow.”

I remember our conversation from last night, and
I suppose that David does, too, because he says, “Wait. It takes
three days just to get to Amara. That means three days to get
back.”

I cut him off. “That means we have one day to
find what we need.”

Arielle shakes her head. “Yes. It is crucial
that you are on that Traveler whether you’ve found what you’re
looking for or not.”

I look at Arielle. My gaze is steely. “I won’t
leave until I’ve found it. That’s a promise.”

She nods, as if expecting my response.

Cecil stands and looks at David, then me. “Get
some sleep. We’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”

* * *

When Cecil came to wake us, it felt that my eyes
had closed only moments before. He tossed a stack of clothes onto
the bed and said, “Here, put these on. If you’re going to be
felons, you’ve got to look the part.”

Now that we’re on our way, I try to use the
travel time to get a little more sleep. Unfortunately, it’s not
working. I can’t make my mind stop long enough to fall asleep.
David doesn’t seem to suffer from the same issue; he has been
sleeping since we pulled out of the lot near Tara Labs.

As I watch the landscape pass by, as I see the
open spaces disappear and we make our way back into the bustling
downtown of Summus, the knot in my stomach seems to tighten with
every city block. It would be one thing if my life were the only
one that hung in the balance, but it’s not. David is with me. There
is no one on Cerno who I care about more than David, and I am
allowing him to come with me to Earth even though we’ve essentially
been told that we’re going to die. How many more will die because
of my decisions? I look over at David and feel a rush of affection
for him; he has protected me on every step of our journey. Now it’s
my turn to do what’s best for him. I lean forward. It’s Cecil who’s
driving.

“I know you’ve got to be nervous, Violet, and
rightly so. But just remember why you’re doing this. It’s not for
selfish reasons; it’s to do your father’s memory justice, and
that’ll lead you right.”

I nod. I know Cecil’s attempting to ease my
fears, but I just don’t think it’s possible, and I’m running out of
time to figure out how to get David out of this.

Cecil takes a right onto a side street. This
morning while we were eating breakfast, Cecil prepped us about our
route; in less than two minutes, we will arrive at the drop-off
point. From there, our allies in The Vox will pick us up and take
us to the waiting Traveler. The ship will not depart from Vox
headquarters as it is much larger than the small transport ship
that David and I stole. This is lucky for us; there is no way that
either David or I could walk through Vox headquarters
undetected.

The vehicle comes to a stop, and Cecil asks,
“How do I look?” He is dressed as a member of The Vox. His disguise
would not fool an active member, but to a passerby this would look
like an official prisoner transfer, which will hopefully be all we
need.

I try to smile, but I just can’t seem to force
it. “Cecil, don’t wake David.”

His eyes meet mine in the mirror and he says,
“Violet, he’ll never forgive you.”

I nod my head. “I know. But at least he’ll be
alive.”

He sighs and shakes his head. Then, he takes a
deep breath and gets out of the vehicle. He straightens his uniform
and opens my door.
Here we go.

I slide across the seat to exit through the door
that Cecil has opened. Just as I plant my feet on the ground and
begin to stand, someone grabs my hand. David is right behind me. I
sigh and hang my head. Foiled.

David exits the vehicle just behind me and leans
forward to whisper in my ear, “You didn’t think it would be that
easy, did you?”

When I don’t respond, he leans forward again and
says, “I love you, Violet. I already told you; we’re in this
together.”

The shock I feel when David says this is enough
to halt me in my tracks, but I know I must keep moving. This is not
the time for me to let my emotions take control of the situation.
By this time, Cecil has led us to the corner of the street, and a
ground transport has pulled up to the curb.

The ground transport is a very large black
vehicle capable of seating twenty or maybe thirty people—in this
case, prisoners for transfer. The door slides open and out steps a
very large, very imposing man. Tall and muscular with a hard face
and a sharp jaw line. If I had to identify our allies in The Vox by
sight, I guess I would fail because I would
never
think that
this man could be among them. He seems like the perfect Vox
soldier, head to toe. I guess that just proves that people aren’t
always what they seem. He dips his head toward Cecil, and Cecil
does a small salute. Then, he turns on his heel and walks back to
his vehicle. He does not turn back.

Upon entering the ground transport, David and I
are led to separate seats where our wrists are then cuffed to a
notch on the seat in front of us. The ride to the Traveler is
silent and uneventful. I decide not to look around at the other
people; I don’t want to invade the sorrow that I’m sure they’re
feeling. As David said once before, many people believe that a
sentence of Earth Banishment is a fate worse than death.

When the transport finally stops—there are no
windows—I’m not sure where we are. It takes a moment for my eyes to
adjust to the sun when I step to the ground, and I have to squint.
I cannot cover my eyes, however, because my wrists are now cuffed
to the waistband of the man in front of me. When I can finally see
clearly, I notice that we are on a military base of some kind. Vox
members walk this way and that, some groups running in formation
for morning exercises. I tense up, but try not to look suspicious.
I’m already a convicted felon, though, so I don’t imagine that
anyone will give me a second glance.

We walk silently toward the towering Traveler in
the distance and I cannot help but wonder why such a large ship is
being used to transport this group of people. Surely there are no
more than thirty of us. It may be necessary to have a ship this
size if the crew has some type of maintenance or mission scheduled
at the station before returning to Cerno.

This large ship differs greatly from the one
that David and I “borrowed” from Vox headquarters. While our small
ship was all curves and sharp edges designed for aerodynamics and
speed, this behemoth has a giant hull that curves upward toward
what looks like a flat top. The top is open to the air except for a
small bridge that spans the width of the ship. The bridge is
composed of something clear so that people walking from one end to
the other could be seen from the outside.

We enter the Traveler through a door that lowers
itself from the side of the ship to become a ramp. We walk up the
ramp in a single-file line, and when we have all entered the ship,
the door closes. Overhead lights buzz on automatically to
compensate for the light lost from the door closing. This must be
some type of storage bay for smaller ships and escape pods. I see
several ships being worked on by members of The Vox. While The Vox
is ever-present, actual members seem to be in short supply here;
this ship seems to be run with a skeleton crew.

The man who drove our ground transport leads us
through a doorway and into what he calls a Purge Room. The walls of
this room are curved; there are no corners at all. In the center of
the room is a group of flight seats, but rather than being arranged
in the usual formation, these seats are positioned in a circle. The
prisoner is meant to sit with his back facing the interior of the
circle and his head facing the wall. This is very curious, though
perhaps it has something to do with cabin pressure. It is
impossible for one of the banished to touch another; there is
enough space between the seats for arms and legs to stretch out
without making contact with anyone or anything.

We strap ourselves into our seats and our Vox
ally comes around to check that we are buckled correctly. As he
leans over me to check that my belt is secure, I see the name on
his tag: Dorian. The patch on his sleeve is yellow; he is an
officer. When he walks back toward the door, he turns around to
face us for a moment and his expression looks almost sad, but still
hard. I cannot stop myself from wondering what issue this man has
with The Vox that would lead him to risk his own freedom to help
The Third Stone. The Sententia would have no mercy on one of their
own who defected; they must maintain control. If discovered,
Officer Dorian would be banished for sure. Probably after being
tortured publicly. He would be made an example of; there is no
question.

As he leaves, a door slides shut behind him.
There is no handle or access code pad inside this room. We cannot
leave until someone comes to get us. Suddenly, the lights in the
room dim; we are now in near-darkness. The only light in the room
emanates from the walls. Gradually, I come to realize these are not
ordinary walls; they are screens. Images of Cerno flash before our
eyes; somber music floods our ears.