Sun Rose (Rose of the Dawn Series Book 1) (4 page)

Pike
begins, “we need to know about my friend, Hara –”

“There
are people worried about you,” Tithonus says.

My
stomach sinks. I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t.

“But
do not worry,” Tithonus’s voice is low and he speaks slowly. It crackles as he
breathes. “They will understand. You have a mission. Everything you previously
knew will create some confusion in you. You must find who you are.”

I
don’t understand. “Well, uh, no. Not really. I’m with Pike and–”

“You
are not sick.” Tithonus holds his hand up. “You were told you were very ill.
You are not.”

“I’m
not?” The side of my torso is hot.

“You
have a very special gift. You are not sick.” Tithonus doesn’t blink.

“What
does that mean?” I look to Pike, who shrugs and shakes his head. “I don’t
understand.” The water drips faster. Like my hospital monitor. Like my racing
heart.

“You
must beware. You must protect your gift. Do not allow trespassers. They do not
want what you want.” His mouth starts to tremble and his head twitches.

“So
will she be able to help us?” Pike interrupts and I am unsettled.

“She
will.” Tithonus looks through me, his gaze stopping at my soul. Can he really
see? “But be careful. Things may begin. She will be very powerful. She is very
powerful.”

Pike
nods his head and leans toward the door.
How come he isn’t asking about
Hara?
He takes my arm. It’s wet, too.

“Before
you go–” Tithonus raises his voice.

Pike
turns back around.

“Let
me see her. Rosamund, please come close.” He waves his hand.

I’m
paralyzed. Pike has to pull me out from behind him and then push me forward. I
walk the rest of the way to the old man. Water squelches between my feet and I
refuse to look down. He smells musty and his hair is much thinner up close than
from afar. And wet. Dripping.

He
takes his hand off his cane and steps toward me. The cane stands by itself and
it doesn’t fall as one would expect. Tithonus takes hold of my hands and grasps
them tight. Their heat sears my flesh. They’re on fire without flames. I can’t
move them though I try to pull mine away. “You are very beautiful. I can sense
it.”

“Thank
you,” I breathe through gritted teeth. Tears come to my eyes. The pain is
unbearable.

“You
have to hold on to you as long as you can. Trust no one. You have an inner
compass. Use it.” His voice is so soft that I’m sure Pike can’t hear from
across the room. “Trust no one,” he says again before letting go of my hands
and regaining stability on his cane. The pain vanishes immediately. My hands
are cool and then cold. I look down. There isn’t a mark or a line on them.

I
turn and walk as fast as I can back to Pike. He takes my hand. There’s that
electricity again. The strength returns to me.

Before
we can get to the door, Tithonus calls after us, “Rosamund, remember, beware!
Beware of trespassers. Trust no one.
Chipchip
! Beware of the code.
Chipchip
!
Don’t let them
chipchip
your code!” I watch him shake in seizure.

“Wait,
what? What’s happening to him? Why is he making that sound?” My body trembles.

“It’s
time to go.” Pike takes my arm.

“But
what’s going on? What about Hara?” I pull back, but Pike yanks me toward him.
Water flows down from the ceiling now. It splashes onto the floor. “Pike,
please! Wait!” He throws me over his shoulder without any effort. I hear the
faint chirping-chipping sound getting louder as the door closes behind us and
Pike navigates the cobblestone street still carrying me. The fog has retreated
and streaks of light break through the miasma.

“It’s
the sun, Rose,” Pike exhales.

He
puts me down.

“So
what? What does that mean?” I am confused. I rack my brain for something that I
may have learned before. Nothing comes to mind.

“It’s
almost dawn, Rose, and he’s calling for Death.”

I
gasp, recalling the desperation of the poem, where the Greek Tithonus, a once
mortal man cursed to live forever, asks his love Eos, upon another dawn, to let
him die: “Release me and restore me to the ground.”

I
run ahead of Pike. “It’s time to go.”

“What
did he say to you?” Pike asks as we hurry down the dock to the train car. I
look back at the little red door. I could’ve sworn it was purple. The sky above
is blue. Not a cloud in it. I wipe my forehead, but it is no longer wet.
Nothing is wet. I’m completely dry.

“I
don’t know. I don’t know what any of it means. What’s going to happen to me? Am
I going to die like this? Why did we have to go there?” Pike grabs my shoulders
and I stop rambling. He lets go and we step inside the train. Ezekiel starts it
moving as soon as we’re in.

“I
wish I had more answers myself. I don’t know, though. I’m still trying to
figure it out.” Pike sits across from me and Ezekiel sits beside Pike. Ezekiel’s
arms cross over his chest, and he looks relaxed for the first time.

“How’re
you feeling?” Pike asks.

“Fine.
Okay.” I don’t know how I feel. How I should feel. I don’t fully understand
this experience so far.

“Tired?”
He rubs his hand over his hair.

“A
bit. But okay.” I smile. He doesn’t return it. It hasn’t been a full day since
I’ve been gone. I know that much. I think.

“You
don’t feel sick, do you?”

“Uh-uh.”
I shake my head. I wonder what Dory is doing right now.
Is she worried about
me?
Jenny would be. I’m not so sure about my parents. Maybe at one time
they would have worried.

“Here,
take this,” Pike leans forward and hands me another pill.

“What
are these anyway?” I swallow it without water. A jagged little pill.

“They
were by your bedside. It says Amlacyclin. Take one as needed.”

“As
needed for what?”

“I
dunno, but Hara said it couldn’t hurt.” Pike returns the cap to the pill
bottle.

“You
talked to the nurse? When?” I shouldn’t, but I feel slightly betrayed.
What
is going on with me?

“When
you were sleeping. She wanted to see how you were doing.” Pike stares out the
window.

“I’ve
never taken anything before. Before today, that is. I’ve never had to take
anything. It has my name on it?” I tilt my head at Pike.

“Yup.
Your prescription and your name. And your doctor, Doctor Suresh. That’s it.”

“Who?
You mean Dr. Rush.”

“No.
Dr. Suresh. Look, here,” Pike extends the bottle so I can read the label. “Doctor
Anushree Suresh,” he repeats.

“That’s
not my doctor.” My hands get clammy. I look down. At least they aren’t swollen.
My stomach lurches and I’m dizzy. “Have I been poisoned? Is it poison?” I
clutch my throat. I can’t swallow.

“You’re
not being poisoned,” Ezekiel’s voice is low and monotone. His eyes are closed
and he doesn’t turn his head as he speaks to me. “If you were, you’d be dead by
now.”

“How
do you know? Do you even know what–” I have to take the pills from Pike to read
the prescription. “Amlacyclin is?”

“Hara
had it written up for you. Dr. Suresh is an old friend.” Ezekiel’s eyes squint
open. I glance over at Pike, whose eyes narrow. I don’t know him well enough to
tell if he’s angry that he didn’t know Hara was involved in this plan or if
he’s jealous that he didn’t know Ezekiel’s knowledge of it. My guess is the
latter more so than the former.

“Do
you know what it is?” Pike’s voice is monotone like Ezekiel’s.

“Amlacyclin
is made up,” Ezekiel answers. “It’s concentrated Amla or Indian gooseberry. For
a fatiguing liver. Herbal remedy. Nothing less. Nothing more.”

Ezekiel
looks over at me and laughs. Then closes his eyes again. The conversation is over.
Pike’s eyes close, too. I stare out the window at the fading daylight. With the
midnight sun, it will never set and we will have twenty-four hours of light
with no darkness. I’m no closer to understanding where I am or why I’m here. The
dizziness evaporates and I don’t feel sick. At least I’m not dying.

“We
walk from here.” Ezekiel holds the door open and I exit first. The breeze is cool
and moist and water molecules hang onto dissolved minerals suspended in the
air. We must be north of wherever we were before.

I
take a deep breath in and then smell my skin. There is a faint environmental
odor, like being outside for a really long time. “Geosmin,” I say, referring to
the after-a-rainstorm smell.

“It’s
ozone,” Ezekiel corrects, even though it doesn’t have any bit of the
bleachy-clean smell that usually precedes the rain. I don’t bother to argue.
Instead I take in my surroundings. Ezekiel wipes down the inside of the car of
our fingerprints and any trace evidence we might have left behind.

“It
hasn’t rained out here in months,” Pike says confirming Ezekiel’s impression
over mine. “They stopped cloud seeding a long time ago.”

“Cloud
seeding,” I begin. “How could they just stop weather modification? It won’t
rain without artificial rainfall. Everything will die.”

Pike
nods, but doesn’t say anything.

The
grass in this countryside is green and up to my knees despite the apparent lack
of precipitation. The only clue that it hasn’t rained is the blade tips are
crisp and brown. Burnt from the sun. It’s so close.

“Will
I burn?” I ask. My skin is getting hot.

“Don’t
worry,” Pike replies. “We’ll be inside soon.”

“Do
we have to walk all the way over there?” I ask. Across the field in the
distance are two tall city towers, at least twenty-stories high. Nothing like
the simple living among natural surroundings as described in Thoreau’s
Walden
.
Despite being huge, they are almost invisible, covered in black solar panels.
Absorbing the sunlight.

“Your
parents have put out a very hefty reward for your safe return.” Ezekiel turns
to Pike. Pike pats Ezekiel’s back and Ezekiel types something into his arm pad.
The navigation panel on the car sizzles and zaps before moving off in the
opposite direction.

They
have?
For
some reason I should be happy about this.
Why am I not?

“Had
to scramble the coordinates again,” Ezekiel explains. Pike’s hand on my lower
back guides me toward the towers. I nod. I know that by now. I still can’t
believe
they
are looking for me. I try to conceal this from Pike and
Ezekiel.

“Where
are we?” I ask. It is so beautiful out here. Calm and inspiring. When I get
back to my room in my house, I’m going to redo it. This I have experienced.

“Aegis,”
Pike answers.

“I
can barely see it.” I am in awe of these buildings as we approach. There is an
excitable feeling and it comes from the buildings themselves. It’s almost like
they are possessed. Like they have a soul. “What was it?”

“It
used to be some sort of housing facility. But it was too far out from the city
and the landfill it was built upon began to sink. Inhabitants were evacuated
and Aegis, empty, became overgrown. Some of the buildings around us sank underground;
other’s had to be levelled. These two were the only ones able to stay standing.
Engineers put reinforced bracing into the concrete foundation so it wouldn’t
sink any farther. There was already a layer of bedrock, under all the garbage.”

“Why
would anyone save the buildings if everyone was evicted?”

“It
was an abandoned building and remained so for years. There’s no reason for it to
exist anymore. It’s in an apocalyptic dead zone. No one comes out here. No one
wants to.”

“I’ve
never heard about it, how come?” Aegis, the protection worn by Zeus and Athena.
More myths. I read about it despite Jenny’s initial reservations. She thought I
should spend my time on people like Plato, Aristotle, and Socrates.

Ezekiel
stomps through the grass, blazing a trail for Pike and me to follow. When I
look back, there is no trace of a path or our footsteps. The grass has bounced
back like we were never here.

“It’s
in what you’d call a magnetic blank spot. Radar doesn’t pick this space up because
we are outside the Beadledom. The commuter trains don’t pass through it
anymore,” Pike tells me. “They’re obsolete and it’s a forgotten space.”

“But
what about satellites? Something has to see it. Or know that it is here,” I
inquire.

“We
don’t get any reception actually. No phones. No GPS. Electronics work, but not
on any sort of bandwidth or frequency. Nothing transmits any sort of signal
here. No one knows about us except for us,” Pike answers.

“And
no one cares, either.” Ezekiel stops and turns, staring at me. I’m taken aback.
I want to run and hide, but there’s nowhere to go, grass all around me. I lose
my footing and fall to the ground. “Don’t even think about trying to contact
your family.” He leans down, his face close to mine. “You’ll get us all
caught.”

“I-I
won’t.” I pick myself up as soon as he backs away. There isn’t even an indent
in the grass below my body. “I-Is your family in there?” I point at Aegis,
speaking only to Pike. I really don’t like Ezekiel.

Pike
shakes his head.

The
wind picks up.

“Haven’t
seen my dad since I was a kid and my mom – my mom, well, she’s not here.”

“Oh.
Okay,” I’m sorry I asked.
Why did I ask?

We
hike on, then over a small stream. Instead of using the footbridge, Ezekiel
splashes through the water and Pike and I follow. My boots are soaking wet. I
wriggle my toes. They’re dry.

We
get closer to the buildings and I can see they are surrounded by some type of
rabbit-proof fencing. I look up at the two buildings, which is really one
building at the base, becoming two towers after the second or third floor. There
aren’t any windows, only photovoltaic modules reflecting the horizon. Solar
panels.

We’ve
stopped at the gate in the fence. It looks more like a prison yard than some
part of a city. “Is it electrified?”

“Nope.
Don’t need it. No one’s coming in.” Ezekiel takes out a flat key from his bag
and calibrates it using his arm band. I’m not sure how that’s possible without
some sort of wireless, but I don’t want to ask. He unlocks the gate and we go
in.

We
approach a set of double doors, the windows of the building completely mortared
up with concrete. Two men as big as Ezekiel, and dressed like him and Pike, let
us in. They stand guard at the entrance.

Pike
waves to the guys and I turn to Ezekiel who is behind us. “Come on,” Pike says
to me. Ezekiel doesn’t follow. “He knows where we’re going.”

“I
– I wasn’t, I don’t care about him,” I retort.

Pike
smiles sideways and I don’t like it. He is amused.

We
walk down a corridor, not unlike the hospital, but much darker. We pass through
another set of doors. There are dark velvet drapes covering cement walls. We
are in the lobby of the building. Pike opens the final doors just beyond. The
brightness is blinding.

He
pulls me into an enormous room. We are in the core of the building between the
two towers. Open space goes all the way up to the top where there is one large
skylight. The center is warm and humid. Tropical plants are everywhere and
there’s a sort of condensation on everything. Even my skin feels moist. The chirping
of birds is faint, but perceptible, and it smells sweet. Of living flowers. Do
they grow flowers here? It’s the same smell of Nurse Hara, from my hospital
room.

“It’s
amazing,” I gawk. It is big and bright and beautiful. An entire city right
here, inside this building. To my right, there is a small stand filled with
fresh food – fruit and vegetables grow around it in small square-foot
containers. A girl and boy about my age tend to the food, turning it over,
dusting it off. Potatoes grow in tall, wooden boxes, and asparagus and Swiss
chard grow up from the ground among strawberries and marigolds, flowers whose
sole purpose is a natural pesticide. Herbs abound and there are two small trees
with real lemons and limes ready to be picked. I look down. The ground is well-packed
dirt and another boy is sweeping leaf litter away from the stand.

“The
farm and fruit stand rotate around the perimeter every year. Sometimes they use
this common space for planting or grazing. It depends on how many people we are
feeding. Everything is organic and grown organic. The earth below us has been
transplanted with pure topsoil made from earthworm castings and tea. No
chemicals here whatsoever.”

“Does
everyone live here?” I don’t ask about worm tea.

“Up
there.” Pike points to the floors above. “There’s a garden on every floor and
people eat what they can grow, but most of it is for the common good.”

I
look up and it is green as far as the eye can see. Vines hang down from
somewhere above, all the way up to the center skylight. It’s like the Hanging
Gardens of Babylon. As I look around, I notice solar greenhouse lights fixed at
points around the space. “What if you run out of food or supplies? How many
people are here?” Aegis is like nothing I’ve ever known. I want to know more. I
want to know what people do and where they all came from. Are they all the same
age as us? Does anyone get along? What if they don’t? Are there any rules? What
if someone breaks them? I wish Jenny were here. She’d never believe this unless
I showed her.

“We’ve
got surplus in the other tower. What we can’t grow or raise.” Pike nods upward.
“Dry goods like flour and sugar and wool for clothes among other things.”

“Things
you’ve stolen?”
Where else would things come from?

“Things
donated. Or given away that we’ve gathered. We are not outlaws.”

I
nod. I was hasty in my assumption.

“You’d
be surprised, though. We actually don’t use that much. There aren’t a whole lot
of us. Maybe two dozen or so. A few young couples. No kids. Most are like me
and Ezekiel.”

“Boys?”
I ask and Pike laughs. I don’t know what’s so funny.

“Single,”
he says. Again, my cheeks warm. He takes my hand. The electric current is hard
to ignore as we walk past someone sharpening knives, and another person next
door shearing sheep in a pen.

“This
is where you’ll stay.” Pike unlocks a door and I step inside the room. It is
dark and stays dark. There isn’t a window, just a faint nightlight. Pike takes
a match out of his side pocket and lights a candle from a small shelf by the
door. “This’ll do better. I know it’s not what you’re used to–”

The
cement walls are grey. What looks to be a window has been bricked up. There is
a cot and a sleeping bag against the wall. There is a small, empty closet. No
bathroom. Just a sink and a tin bedpan. I shiver, then suppress my overwhelming
need to cry.

“No.
No, this is perfect. It’s great. Thank you.” I want to go home. I don’t want to
be here. Pike notices and it makes him uncomfortable. He runs his hand through
his hair and starts for the open door. “Is your room nearby?”

“No,”
he shakes his head. “Everyone else’s rooms are upstairs. This is just
temporary. Get some rest. I’ll come back in a few hours to show you around.”
His hand is on the handle.

“Pike?”
My voice trembles.

“Yeah?”

“Are
you using me for ransom?” I pause. Pike stares at me, his brow furrows. I feel
defensive and caught off guard. “If my father’s position as attorney for the
Imperial Bead has any weight, it could be used to get you things. Things you
might need for here. You’re not going to hurt me are you?”

His
hand pulls away from the door and he steps back inside, closing it behind him.
I take a step back, but he gets right in front of me. Almost as close as he and
Nurse Hara.

Almost.

“Remember
when Tithonus said you were very powerful?”

I
nod. It was early this morning, but feels like years ago.

“There
is
something very special about you, but we’ll have to try some things
out before we can be sure. We’ll need your help to do that, though. It has
nothing to do with a ransom.”

“You
mean, like, experiments?”

“Not
experiments. More like tests. But nothing will be done against your will, I
assure you. I told you, if you want to go home, I will take you. Just give us a
chance first.”

He
takes my hands and the surge of electricity is so great, I know he feels it,
too. He drops my hands and the current is lost. My heart sinks. Unless of course
there’s something wrong with that organ now, too.

“Okay.”
I don’t know any more now than I did earlier. He walks back to the door and I
sit down on the cot. I don’t notice a pillow.

“Rose?”

“Yes?”

“Did
you feel sick before you got sick? Before you were admitted to the hospital
with organ failure?”

“No.
Not really. I mean, I had a few headaches and I sort of lost my appetite, even
though I’m not often hungry. I didn’t call Dr. Rush about it or anything. It
didn’t seem all that strange. I guess it was. Why?”

“Hara
knew you were coming in even before you did,” he says.