Awoken (The Lucidites Book 1) (26 page)

Ren flashes an arrogant grin at me. His pointy canines make him look menacing, although I sense he’s all talk. “We have enough food to feed everyone, sweetheart, but still people go hungry. Be realistic, would you?”

I shoot him a dirty look before focusing my attention back to Aiden. “What does VDR stand for?”

“Ah, yes,” he says with enthusiasm. “It’s a term that in French means ‘dream stealer.’
Voleur de reve
.”

“What does French have to do with any of this?” I ask confused.

“That”—Aiden holds up his hand—“is a story for another time.”

“Honestly,” Ren says, folding his arms across his chest, “I’m unimpressed. That’s what you’re looking for, right, Dr. Hotshot? You want me to say this is the future that will save us all. Right?” Ren laughs and then continues, “It’s not. If you ask me I think we’re better off with less technology. Flynn should have gotten rid of the entire science department when we took over this place. I’ll never understand his stupid love for science.”

Ren turns and looks at me. “You know Flynn thinks that if the spirit of dreams and the logic of science married then the world would be a happier place. Next time you see him, why don’t you ask how that’s working out for him?”

With a turn he makes for the door. “This, as I suspected, was a huge waste of time. Glad to know you’re throwing millions of dollars into this rubbish, Aiden. Keep it up, you daft scientist.”

Once Ren is gone the room gets bigger, brighter. I blink rapidly for a second. “What in the world was that all about?”

Aiden laughs, obviously letting off some steam. “That was Ren acting exactly like Ren.”

“Yes, I know, we’ve met. But what’s he going on about? What was that whole thing about getting rid of the science department?”

“Oh, right.” He scratches his chin and says, “Well when the US government pulled out of the Institute forty years ago, many of the Lucidites wanted to abolish the science part of it. As you heard Ren say, Flynn loves science and against many people’s wishes he kept the department alive and funded. It’s because of this that I have a job. Ren personally believes my work complicates the Lucidites’ mission. You would understand how we’re natural enemies, although personally I think he’d make an excellent party guest.”

We laugh and I automatically loosen up. Then I’m reminded of something I read in the folder recently. “The US government abandoned the Institute because they weren’t able to prove there were any results to lucid dreaming and ESP, right? Well, how’s that possible, since we know it’s real?”

Aiden sits in his chair and leans back. His jawline looks more defined as he gnaws at the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, this is a good part of the history. When the Dream Travelers were invited to take part in the research the first person they brought in was Flynn, the founder of the Lucidites. He assessed the situation pretty quickly. Apparently, he’d been trying to secure a location for the Lucidites for a while, but was finding it difficult. This was exactly what he’d been looking for. However, he knew the US government wouldn’t go away unless the whole project proved useless. Flynn also knew the government would abuse these powers if they discovered them to be real. It didn’t take long for Flynn to infiltrate the research with his own findings, which showed ESP and all related fields to have inconclusive results. Almost everyone working for the government packed up their suitcases and took the long submarine ride home. Since then this place has been mostly free of any Middlings.”

“W-w-wait,” I stammer confused. “They took a submarine?”

“Well, naturally, that’s how people originally got to the Institute. This mode of transportation is only used now for shipping goods in and out.”

I’m uncertain why this new bit of knowledge instantly cramps my stomach, making me feel uneasy. Although I knew the Institute was underground, I hadn’t considered it was submerged in water. Now the crazy way that it takes to enter the Institute makes more sense. At least it makes more sense for people who are becoming accustomed to accepting strange alternate realities.

“Wow,” I finally say, hopping up on one of the stools next to the work bench. “That’s fascinating.”

“I thought so too.” Aiden stands and walks to the table where I’m seated, only six inches away. “So, naturally, people want to know how the US government would just forget they funded an Institute. Why wouldn’t they come back and take it over with some new research mission, right?”

I’d thought the same thing when I first read the history of the Institute. I nod, staring into Aiden’s excited blue eyes. His passion for his work isn’t just attractive, it’s inspiring. I hope one day to do something that touches people, either because of its significance or because of my enthusiasm for it. Aiden does both.

“Thanks to a remarkable technology we never have to worry about the US government again,” Aiden says, almost jumping up and down. His mood has infected me and I’m ready to jump on the balls of my feet with him before even knowing what he’s going to say. “With the modifier we’re able to implant ideas or, more importantly, in the case of the government, remove histories from people’s minds.”

Even as Aiden speaks, these words have a hard time registering. They catch in my brain like slippery stones in a net. If I tried to pick them up they’d slip through my fingers, their mossy surface defying my ability to grasp.

“I don’t understand,” I finally admit.

Aiden gives a sensitive smile and nods, like my inability to understand my native language and this string of familiar words isn’t ridiculous. “The Lucidites used this device to extract all memories of the Institute and the project from the government employees. Like pencil marks on paper, all their experiences here were erased. They’ll never remember those years working here. It’s a blank gap, but not to the point that they want to ask questions. It’s just like they had one long night of dreamless sleep.”

I swallow and stare at Aiden, lost for words.

“Well, and of course all paper records mysteriously disappeared as well. There are no traces this place ever existed.” Aiden laughs abruptly like this is a funny practical joke.

“This device, it erases memories? Realities? I thought you said it implants ideas.”

“It does both.”

Aiden flashes a cunning smile, but for some reason it’s easier to resist than the last one I’d seen him adorn.

He carries on, “What we did to the US government is known as receding. With the modifier we also can implant. Now you’re seeing how fantastic this piece of technology is,” he coerces in his passionate manner. “It both removes memories
and
puts them in someone’s mind.”

“The Lucidites used this back in the 1970s when they took this place over, right? So this type of technology has been around for a while?” I ask.

“Oh yeah! However,” he hesitates, “the earlier versions had kinks. I’ve worked them out now, but…” He looks at me for a few seconds and then says, “There were issues with the implanter part of the device. With time people forgot the embedded reality.”

“That must have made things pretty complicated,” I say.

“It was, but not in the way you’d think. The people being embedded ignored the reality we were trying to get them to accept. This just created extra work for us.”

“So the modifier is still used?” I ask.

“Oh yes,” he says triumphantly.

A knot rises automatically in my throat. I no longer feel like bouncing on my toes. “Why does the Institute use the modifier?”

“Only to protect good,” Aiden says, leaning down on the table, closing a few more inches between us. “We never manipulate lives for anything else.” His breath coasts against my cheeks.

I ease back a few inches. “Manipulate lives?”

Aiden counters with a look of confusion.

Something in me is on fire. This conversation has ignited a fast-burning fuse. “Seems like you’re playing God,” I say, an undercurrent of bitterness in my voice.

Aiden recoils. There’s a flash in his eyes. He’s offended. In one small whispered statement I’ve created distance. “Why would we be given these talents if we weren’t supposed to use them?” he says in a quieter voice than usual.

“I’m sure that’s exactly what Zhuang’s telling himself.”

“No, this is different,” Aiden says. The anger in him engulfs the passion, like a hot blanket. I’ve struck something, a place in him he’s used to defending.

“Maybe I see what Ren was talking about.” I slide off the stool. “Manipulating lives,” I repeat, shaking my head. “That’s an abuse of power. You can’t do that, Aiden. It’s wrong.”

He stares at me for a long time. His expression is one of hurt laced with disappointment. I feel exactly the same way. But I can’t condone this. How can Aiden or Flynn or anyone think it’s their right to tell people what to think? Or erase their memories? Erase their lives? Everyone always uses the “greatest good” argument. That’s how wars happen and people die. They always die to protect the greater good. But we shouldn’t have to lie, cheat, and kill to protect good. That’s counterintuitive.

I’m torn as I stand looking at Aiden. I don’t want to argue with him. The last thing I want to do is argue with
him
. But now that I know the truth I can’t look at Aiden the same way. In a matter of minutes everything has become tarnished and ruined.

“I’ve got to go.” I turn to leave. I focus on each step that carries me to the exit. I try to distract myself from the heartfelt music resonating overhead and the disappointed eyes on my back.

“But…” Aiden says.

I halt gently in that large space and stand motionless. One second passes, then two, then ten more. I’d been hoping and waiting for that little “but,” so when I heard it I stopped. It took a great deal more effort to turn and face him. His expression is pleading and also hard like stone, unchanging. I need him to say something to repair the last few minutes. I need him to fix things. I need him to make me want him again.

He takes a long breath, closes his eyes for a second, and opens them again. “I’m only doing my job. Don’t be mad at me, please.”

I tilt my head sideways, baffled. “It isn’t about
me
, Aiden. It’s about abusing some power
you
think you own.” I shake my head at him, at this whole preposterous conversation. “I don’t want Zhuang to hurt people, but I won’t allow that threat to excuse this. It’s immoral to erase or plant ideas in the minds of innocent Middlings. If that’s what the Lucidites do, then maybe I don’t belong here.”

Aiden closes the space between us in two strides, his eyes dark and narrow. “Maybe you don’t, because this is what the Lucidites do. They save lives.”

I’m assaulted by his accusation, but I hide it. “At the stake of others’ lives? Is that fair?”

“We’re trying to help, to ensure there’s a future, for us, for anyone.”

“Who gave you or anyone the right though? And where’s this arbitrary line? When do the Lucidites stop? What else will they take over if they think it could benefit them? Homes? Businesses? Countries? My God, this is a slippery slope and even you, with all your genius, have to realize that.”

His hostile eyes rake over me. He doesn’t see it. I know for certain he’s just concocting an excuse in his own brilliant head and it infuriates me.

“Roya, you’re wrong. The Lucidites wouldn’t do anything to abuse this power. You haven’t been with us long enough to know that. It’s not as cut and dry and you’re making it. Don’t you see that?”

“I don’t. All I know is that if someone put or erased ideas in my mind then I’d feel invaded.”

“You wouldn’t if you knew they were saving your life!” he shouts at me.

I slip my hands into my pockets to hide my shaking. “You can’t know that. You can’t know you’re saving them. That’s just something you’re telling yourself so you can excuse what you’re doing, so you sleep well at night.”

“You’re more like Ren than you realize. Obtuse! Self-righteous!”

Repulsed by his audacity, I trip backwards. The distance separating us is no longer charged with desire, but rather disdain. He isn’t who I thought he was. How could I have been so stupid? Betrayed by my own emotions, I retreat to the exit, to the hallway and away from Aiden’s fuming eyes.

Chapter Thirty-One

I
t’s a good thing I have a stack of books to keep me entertained since I have no immediate plans to leave my room. I skip lunch and dinner, dreading seeing Aiden. I also skip training with Shuman. After yesterday’s argument I can’t do it. I don’t want to let anyone down, but I also need to strip myself of obligations. I hang in my room until I hear the knock. I’ve been expecting it.

It comes half an hour after dinner started. I hit the button, hoping he’s brought me something to eat.

“All right, Stark, you’ve got some explainin’ to do.” Joseph strides into my room, setting a small box on the desk before flopping on my bed. “Where ya been?”

I snatch the box and open it, pushing the utensils through the plastic bag that encases them. “I’ve been in hell,” I say between bites.

“Mmm…I’m not sure the eternally damned would agree with the comparison,” Joseph says in his usual blunt style.

Remembering Joseph is religious and fears places like hell, I restate myself. “I’ve been having a tough day.”

“Understandable,” Joseph says, resting his face on his hands. “DD is approaching.”

“Yeah, whatever, that can’t get here soon enough.”

A shadow falls on Joseph’s face. How can I be so heartless? The Day of the Duel isn’t just my last possible day on earth. Remorse courses through my hot skin. I swallow a rough bit of pride and apologize for my careless statement. Then I fill Joseph in about my arguments with Shuman and Aiden.

“You know, Stark, you might save us all still,” he says when I’ve finished. “You’ve got heart. That’s what’s obvious to me right now. You stand up for what you believe. And you sure throw a rotten tantrum. If I was Zhuang, I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.”

I smile, folding up the box that used to contain a scrumptious salad. “Thanks for bringing me food,” I say.