Nemecene: The Epoch of Redress (33 page)

"It's on the maze."

She's stunned. "Pub...public?" She's shaking. I think she's really scared. No. She's terrified.

"No. Boys, you know. Stitch is a hack. Sort of a genius. We hadn't heard from you so he started sketching through secure packets. His private communications."

"He can do that?" Nod. "So apart from your perverted cousin and friend, I'm trip?"

"As far as I know. I'm so sorry, Caroline. I didn't mean to—"

"Well, what did you mean, yeah?" She's really upset, wiping her eyes. Let's just be blunt about this.

"Are you working for the Ministry?"

"You're crazed."

"Did my father hire you? You brought me here the first time to get clamped, didn't you."

"You overdazed, girl? Who are you?" She's telling the truth.

Hick. "You must think I'm paranoid."

"Um...yeah? A little." Sarcasm. I deserved it. At least she's primping again. Hey. My clothes are fine, thank you. "If you're going to have some fun, you need to look a bit more approachable, yeah? Show them off! Look. Like this. It'll get you something sweet." Oh. I'm not so sure. "Trust me. No flashes. And no counsellor. For some reason he was furious about you. No rib! He your father?"

That is too funny. "No, fishy. You see his nose?" She's laughing. I made my point.

"We're trip? Watch and learn." She does have the walk.

Be careful. Nathruyu's here. I don't want her sneaking up on me. Where did she go? Crap. I lost her. Oh good. She's busy with some guy. If he could only shift his head over a tiny bit...there it is. The crystal. Just like Keet's except clearer, a little bit grayish, and blueish too. Hmmm. Indigo I think. Well, well, well. Looks like she has a boyfriend. Quick. Behind Caroline.

"Don't be shy now. I'll make sure they go easy on you, yeah?" What exactly am I getting into?

"Um...isn't that guy over there with the black-haired woman you told to trip out? Poor self control?"

"Yeah. Right. Randy. She keeps him in line. She's like a female Sothese that one. Wonder if he's a star. Wouldn't mind seeing a bit of him." Giggle.

"Sothese? The advisor?"

"Yum. SSSexy SSSothese."

"What about her?"

"All you need to know is stay clear! Randy almost died a few times." I don't like that one bit.

Crap. She saw me. She's coming over. Start talking to someone.

"Is this one yours?"

Caroline is kicking me. Say something. "Ummm. No." Whoa. I feel weak. Caroline?

"Hold on to me. Don't say anything, just let her take him." Take who? Where? "Are you all right? Don't look at her. He hasn't got a chance. We should leave. You don't need to see this. Let's check on Randy first. He's harmless now." I'm bending.

I wasn't here long enough last time to really pay attention. These people are not normal. Then again, what is normal? I certainly don't qualify. Half of them are almost unconscious. What do they serve here anyway? And the guy she took is...is...need oxygen.

"Caroline?"

"I know. Just look away and… The SIF! Eli? Is this your doing again?" Not this time.

"They're after Nathruyu." Oops.

"How do you..?" Bar fight. "Biochip tagged. He's a violent hazer. One shot limit. Does this every time. Banique will take care of it."

"Where is the guy she took?"

"Forget about him. Who
are
you?" I wish I could tell her, but I honestly don't even know myself. "Never mind. We're jam! The SIF are flashing. Sheiss!"

Nathruyu's coming back and Caroline is out of her body. Straight at me. Stand tall. She can't do anything to me. Not in front of them. Caroline can't even stand anymore. Nerves. Look strong. Don't let her see you sweat. Not likely. It's pica cold here. Here she comes. Legs, hold out.

"You know nothing!" Such contempt.

Time to assalam. Grab Caroline.

"Not that way. It's not safe. Clip out!" Caroline signals Banique. He's questioning the SIF now. Oh. A diversion. Smart. Out the front. Fast. In the elevator. She's very quiet. Catch my breath. I still don't know how I got here. She's slumping to the floor. Where's my giggly friend?

"Caroline, what's wrong?"

"The SIF flashes. You really
do
know nothing."

Figure it out later. "I'll take care of it. Stitch can fix this. I'll comm him right now."

She has some color now. "Wait until we're out. Watch your back. Just walk fast until we're through the leafy wall."

Ok. Not looking friendly those ones. Just keep walking. Hurry. With purpose. Phew. In the square now. She nods. Hope he's awake.

"Hey lo, Stitch." Nice to hear her giggle again.

"Way, chum. Some people do sleep. Nightmare?"

"Real one. SIF flashes. You need to del them. All of them. Caroline's too."

"That girl's trouble, yeah?"

She heard that. She's blowing him a kiss.

"Please. Pica crit. I'll explain later." He's debating. I can tell. "Chumbuds."

"Not sure what I'm on, but it's… You're bent! Is this why you weren't answering?"

"What?"

"It's done." Phew.

"I love you."

"That's Caroline, yeah? Tell her she owes me something sweet."

She's gesturing. Oh, that is lewd.

"She heard you."

"Juicy!" Ugh. Won't that get old?

"Hovertrain's here. I'll ping when I'm back. Ta, chum."

"You owe me too, lass. Ziga!"

"Um...yeah." He's right. Big. But not that way. Back to Caroline.

"You really don't know what you are, do you, Eli?"

Day 41: Late Evening

I
have a confession to make. The past week I have not been entirely honest with you, which is somewhat hypocritical coming from someone who has been touting his breakthrough virtuosity in regards to his commitment to trusting unconditionally. I was afraid that if Eli accidentally acquired my journal again, a further example of my lingering trust issues, that she might turn against me for what I am about to tell you, manifesting my second biggest fear besides the GHU, that of her pulling away from me voluntarily, which I coincidentally had a taste of this afternoon .

Since the day Eli noticed that Mashrin's body had disappeared from the transition wing and her proper ritual had finally made the unofficial news in the maze, life in Eadonberg has returned to its usual pace, and the three of us have been preoccupied with our day-to-day responsibilities, apart from our ongoing investigation of course. While Stitch has been probing for secure packets in the maze with assistance from Odwin, and Eli has been deciphering Dr. Kzavier's private patient records and snooping around the GHU, I have been digging for historical accounts in the archives and secretly meeting with Nathruyu at an inconspicuous hostel near the transport station. The disturbing result of all this is that every single thread and dead end in our research efforts mysteriously seem to point to you. The first documented case of biochip malfunction, albeit penned in a dead medic's handwriting, a large influx of anonymous support for the orphanage you apprenticed at upon your enrollment, Father's covert appointment to the URA shortly after we were born, various other ostensibly disparate events since then, and even Odwin's keen interest in helping Eli discover a cure for her illness, can be traced back to some aspect of your existence.

Once again, the answers exist in a void no living person can enter. If only you could talk to us through my pen. Your daughter desperately needs you, as do I. Please.

I'm sorry. I had to steady my hand before continuing. It is just this overwhelming feeling of helplessness which fills me with anguish, watching Eli gradually shatter, and my constant questioning as to why I haven't succumbed to the voices as she has. I hear yours speaking encouragement and patience, although it is difficult to know where your thoughts end and mine begin. Another one I can only infer is Father's voice, destructive and immobilizing, yet they merely feed my own thoughts, rather than consume them. As for Stitch? I am not sure how his mind operates, but there is definitely some self-talk going on up there, even though his scans label him drift free. Studying his brain might be enlightening, or at least amusing. So the enigma persists, as I become entangled with the possibly treacherous plans of a ministry insider. Why is Eli broken while I remain whole?

Nathruyu has been able to offer me some clues, although with her it is often difficult to ascertain what her vague statements mean. I suspect she is keeping our communications ambiguous so as to safeguard her true identity, or perhaps she simply enjoys the game, one in which I suspect the rules are of her own making. She knows things, and the source of this knowledge is a well-protected entity. Her features place her age in the mid to late twenties, certainly no older than thirty, which implies that she would have at the very least still been a teenager at the time of our ninth birthday, when she peered into the kitchen window. It also suggests that she could have memories of you either arriving at the orphanage after you were found wandering or a few short years later. The only plausible explanation I have at this moment for the uncanny details she shared with me about your youth, which incidentally correspond with the facts Stitch and Odwin have gathered, is your connection with the sage master, whose particular story still eludes us.

According to Odwin's allies and Nathruyu's testimony, when you were seventeen you were seduced away from your training by a newcomer to this city, you had unsanctioned relations with him, and you became expectant with twins. Unlike what commonly occurs with such a pregnancy, disclosure of your condition was withheld from the Unification and you were confined to your quarters until the delivery date. As the gestation period progressed, however, you became increasingly unstable, and fearing that the GMU would respond to neighboring complaints, your mentor transferred you to a hidden facility in the highlands where we were born. In the meantime, Father had tracked you, and through his newly acquired position in the Ministry as the chief director of the URA, he hid all three of us in the settlement we adopted as our home until the accident. The sage has been missing ever since.

Although he had proven his honor as it concerns Mashrin's spirit, Odwin's assurances that he had revealed the criminal's hideout to gain favor with the SIF were not altogether convincing to me. Granted, no more atrocities in Osler Hall have been reported, but that alone is not enough to prove that the perpetrator has been clamped. Furthermore, the original orders to the GMU were quite clear as to the urgency of apprehending the suspect, so if they knew where to conduct their vigil, then why was Nathruyu still freely wandering the pathways? After all, I doubt my senses were playing tricks on me that night, because I distinctly recall a hint of myrrh in the air, a fragrance permanently embedded in my heart even before I can remember, and rare enough to negate the likelihood of coincidence. Unable to raise objections without exposing myself to similar criticism for dishonoring my pledge to full transparency, I automatically assumed that Odwin, our trusted Gadlin contact, was operating under an ulterior motive, until today.

After contiguous double shifts in the round room over the past week, on top of my clandestine late night encounters and the extra research, at last, I had finished reorganizing the utter chaos born out of the Pramam's visit. Judging by the volumes of journals, parchments, books, and folders left in heaps in the aisles, I surmise he was looking for a specific item, because in no way could one person read the entire archives over the course of two days. My diligence merited me a well-deserved early start to the evening, and although I could have slept until fog lift tomorrow, I realized a talk with Eli was long overdue, and not a moment too soon.

As I was about to emerge from the orchard, I saw Stitch and Eli sitting on the glass bench in the clearing, passionately locked in conversation by the side of the pond. His body was slightly turned towards her with his left arm extended behind her on the seat back and his right wrist resting on her right forearm. My initial reaction was to interrupt his advances, but my instincts were guiding me to a different approach. As much as my toes were cramping with indignation and accusations of opportunistic manipulation were flying back and forth inside my head, I managed to control my impulses and, nailing my tongue to the roof of my mouth, I crept as close as I could to monitor the situation unseen. From the new vantage point, I could detect the distraught look on her face and the worried look on his, and despite the pause in their discussion, the dynamic tension between them was plainly obvious. I grappled with my imagination as I projected your plight onto your daughter, fearful that history was repeating itself in yet another way, and focused my attention on their lips, trying to read the words that their eyes were expressing. "We have to tell Keet."

I was not the only one keeping secrets. As I envisioned the worst, it was difficult not to blame myself for unwittingly pushing Eli into his space by broaching the subject of his intentions on several occasions, and by perhaps implanting an idea that would become self-fulfilling. Her posture stiffened as they exchanged a few more sentences that I could not interpret, and with his back towards me, he leaned closer into her, raising his palms to her face, gently cupping her chin and obscuring her with a sideways tilt. At this point, I had witnessed just about enough to send me sailing through the air like a jealous boyfriend, but I endured one additional assault before breaking my silence and making my presence emphatically known. His presumptuous paw then slid up her spine to steady the back of her head, as she timidly pushed herself away from him, while his right one gently reached past her right shoulder to cradle her behind the neck. What felt like an eternity to me as he gazed intently into her eyes, transpired in the matter of a few seconds, and what he said next slapped my ears with such force that I had to grab the tree beside me for support. "Part of your brain is missing."

That was my cue. I burst into the open, surprising them both, and began an embarrassingly long diatribe about the inappropriate liberties he was taking with a trusted friend who is highly vulnerable and confused, to which he started laughing and assured me that I had totally misread his gestures. Eli, on the other hand, was eerily despondent and oblivious to the confrontation, her gaze fixed on the open blue lotus floating in front of her, and rightly so. I was so preoccupied with flexing my overbearing brother muscles, a product of a dysfunctional upbringing I wager, that the revelation which was paralyzing her had not even registered. Stitch was so engaged in poking fun at me, that he too had temporarily ignored the impact of his exclamation. As he had in the commons the morning of the Pramam's speech, he carefully brought Eli back into the present, then explained the basis for his conclusion.