Falling & Uprising Read online

  She pulls the earmuffs back down around my neck and rolls her eyes. “How’s the desk job going?”

  “Don’t patronize me. We are both well aware I don’t do anything.” The calluses on my hands make pushing bullets into the mag easy and painless.

  “You may not be doing anything helpful, but at least you aren’t training the army we’ll have to fight.” Her gaze drops, not looking at anything here but looking into herself. Amazing how the people working to fix things are the ones who feel guilty about their roles in the system.

  “Sophos is hopeful it won’t be much of a fight,” I say.

  “I would call that delusional rather than hopeful. The Establishment doesn’t have a regiment here and the battalions on the islands to help the elderly cross the streets, so I’d consider scheduling more training time.”

  “I didn’t say I’m not ready for a fight.”

  “Are you, though? You look like you’re getting a little soft.” She pokes my abdomen.

  “Earmuffs are going back on.”

  “Stop it. Anything new going on?”

  “Sophos is keeping Serenity Ward.” I lean on the counter, but she remains bolt upright. She never relaxes, never slouches. Not in the way most Kaycians do to look perfect, though. For Tori, it’s because she’s had to work harder and be more resolute than any man to succeed in Security, especially at her age. I think she’s only five years older than me.

  She shakes her head. “Kaycian royalty is an obvious choice.”

  “She’s not as bad as I expected.”

  “That’s good because you’ll end up babysitting her when this blows up. Maybe I wasn’t being sarcastic about training more.”

  I turn and shoot three rounds into the center of three consecutive targets in half as many seconds. She throws her hands over her ears and glowers at me.

  “I think I’ll be okay.”

  I put away my things and leave the range while Tori mutters obscenities at me. My ears ring as punishment for my cocky display. Firing in the range without ear protection was a dumb thing to do. As I walk out, my eyes catch on a young marshal’s face, and I freeze.

  “Emrys?”

  A blank stare is the only response I get. This doesn’t look like the twelve-year-old boy I knew in Lawson. He’s what—sixteen now? And taller than I am. I don’t know if I’d recognize him, except for our mom’s broad flat nose and dad’s eyes. The scar on his chin from when he crashed our dad’s old bike as a kid is barely visible now—polished away like the rest of what made him my brother.

  My hands shake, and a knot forms in my throat. Memories of growing up together assault me. Swimming in the summer and snowball fights in the winter. Blanket forts in our bedroom and counting stars outside. He knows none of it now.

  A hand lands on my shoulder and pushes me out of the gym. I go along obediently. Tori walks me down the hallway and into a storage closet, closing us in.

  “That’s my brother!”

  She presses her eyes closed. When she opens them, they’re filled with regret. “I didn’t know, or I’d have told you. I’m so sorry.”

  “He can’t… I…” I slam my forehead into the wall and lean into it.

  “Bram, you can’t do anything for him now. He isn’t there anymore.”

  I sink to the floor under the weight of reality. My head drops down onto my crossed arms while my hands grip my arms too hard. It gets easy to fall into complaisance here. As the days roll on, it’s easy to forget how horrible it all is, but then it comes crashing over me all at once.

  Tori crouches down next to me. “I’ll assign you back to Sophos’ place. Go get some rest.”

  ***

  It’s not my training which puts a blank stare on my face as I walk back to Sophos’ townhouse. My mind is finally as empty as the Establishment intended. All I’ve got are clouds and shadows in here now.

  I enter the townhouse, but this might not be any better than keeping up the marshal act today. At least I’d have something to do, here I’m alone with my thoughts. There were three of us—all boys—so the odds of me being the only one selected were slim, but now it’s real. Now, I know for two years, Aren has been an only child. The last son left home with Mom.

  Boys are far more likely to be selected. Preferred for jobs involving heavy lifting and to be marshals. They only leave enough boys on the islands to keep the population going. Now Emrys is part of the army we’ll be fighting against. A chill runs through me at the thought. I’ve wondered if either of my brothers had been selected and which it would be. It feels like the youngest is worse, but it wouldn’t be any better if it were Aren. I could have found out if I wanted to, but being in the dark left room for hope. Without the ability to do anything about it, did I want to know? Isn’t that the point of all of it? We don’t investigate or question anything because we don’t want to know the hard truth.

  Pacing around like this will make me boil over. Well, when Sophos is overwhelmed, he has a drink. I tried beer once—back in Lawson—but they don’t do beer here. I’ve never had liquor, but today may be the perfect day to experience it.

  I drop onto the couch and grab the screen to order something. I don’t really know what any of this is that I’m swiping through. Sophos prefers brandy—might as well give that a try. A globe-like snifter with a short stem rises from the table. I never understood why it needs this stupid glass. It smells slightly sweet as I take a sip. It burns a little and doesn’t taste awful, I guess, but it isn’t enjoyable. I don’t understand the appeal. I slide that aside and go back to the menu.

  How about whiskey? A different kind of glass appears. This one comes up to a point inside at the bottom; a ball of ice rolls around it. It has a more pungent smell, though of what I couldn’t say, and oh, a sharper burn. Why do people do this? The heat flows down my throat and spreads through my chest. Not loving it.

  I grab the tablet again and tap without looking. A tiny round glass appears with a lime wedge next to it. Why is there a lime wedge? I pour the clear liquid down my throat, and my shoulders shudder. Oh, I get it now! I grab the lime wedge and bite down on it. What the hell was that? I look at the screen and decide tequila is a big no.

  Where are drinks that aren’t straight liquor? I scroll through and find the ‘mixed drinks’ section. I pick an aviation cocktail, and yet another type of glass appears—a long narrow stem with a cone-shaped glass. The collection of glassware looks ridiculous. This one looks particularly Kaycian. The drink itself is a faint purple, and a curl of an orange rind garnishes the glass’ rim. This is still strong, but it’s smooth and floral in a familiar way.

  Reclining back on the couch, I take my time finishing it. I have things I’d like to forget. That’s the only reason I’m drinking. But why the hell is it so popular with the Kaycians? They don’t have anything they need to forget; they live in a dream world! What could they possibly need to escape from?

  Emrys was the best of us. Not just because he’s gone now—people always think more highly of a person after the person is gone. He was always the best of the three of us. Always happier than I could ever manage to be, and not pig-headed like Aren. My eyes sting. The sensation of tears has been long forgotten. As I take another drink, a buzz develops behind my eyes. It’s better than my rusty tear ducts trying to start up again. The thought of getting Emrys assigned to be security for someone on the council runs through my head, but what good would it do? None for him. It would be for me. Pointless as I know it is, I still feel the need to protect him. Of course, I already failed to protect him when it mattered. It’s too late now.

  I sulk and drink and monologue and drink and eventually take a nap. When I wake up, the sun is setting, and it’s in the worst spot shining the light right into my eyes. The sunlight makes my head pound. I reach for the screen and grope around until the heavy curtains close.

  This was a terrible idea. I’m never drinking again.

  Chapter Ten

  SERENITY

  “Espy will have
my dress for your wrap party done soon. It’s ivory with pearls.”

  Acting like I care about that is a test of my acting prowess. I thought Adwin knew the real me—not the mask—but he doesn’t seem to notice a change. Maybe all I’ve ever been was my mask. I tap out a song on the stem of my glass as my gaze floats around the restaurant.

  “I’m sure you’ll look like an angel.” Adwin smiles at me, and I wonder if that’s what he sees when he looks at me, an angel? “Parisa will be disappointed that she doesn’t get to dress you, though.”

  “She’s still in her program. It would be rude to pass up Espy for her mentee. Plus, Parisa’s designs are a bit… outlandish.” I wouldn’t usually add that last bit of harsh honesty, but if this is the only topic where I can be honest, I’ll take it. Otherwise, every word I say to him is a lie when my mind wants me to scream out something different. I’m a liar now—duplicitous. I’m not good enough for him as I am now, but I can’t let him go. I’m also selfish.

  “Speaking of Parisa, she and the twins are all abuzz about you thinking you might have to claim a new social circle now.”

  What? Oh, the fashion show. It was only a month ago, but it feels like a past life. “That was only in defense of Vogue. I didn’t mean it.” I didn’t mean it at the time, anyway. Now it seems fitting.

  “You shouldn’t tease them that way,” Adwin says. “You know they’re like moths flitting around your flame.”

  That they are. Everyone has a use for me. My friends enjoy the extra attention they get by being around me, the Establishment made me a spokesperson to sell their lies, and Sophos is using my position. I search Adwin’s blue eyes, hoping he is the exception. Our happiness is what we get out of each other. Right? I swallow the remainder of my martini, trying to wash away my doubts with gin. A silent sigh rolls through me as a buzz settles behind my eyes. “I’ll take care not to burn them.”

  Adwin returns my smile. Apparently, the tipsy version of me is consistent with how I’ve always been. Is that part of the fantasy world I left? Are we perpetually drunk on life? Am I clearsighted and sober now, or am I hungover?

  At home, I look at Snowflake, but where I once saw a sweet companion, I see a stupid little dog. I envy her. She’s content and carefree. Part of me wishes I could be that way again.

  Bram still calls me ‘pup,’ but I’m no puppy. I used to be, though. Shock and anger are the only reactions I allow myself when I’m with Sophos and Bram now. I know Bram is waiting for me to fall apart, and I will not give him the satisfaction.

  ***

  Through the monorail window, the city blurs by. Another day in my alternate reality with Sophos and Bram has come to a close. The latter was exceptionally broody today. He didn’t say a word to me all day. Probably for the best, since most of his words for me are hostile.

  My parents should be out, so I’ll play the piano when I get home. I have to be alone for that. Playing takes me to a hidden sanctuary within my soul. I’ve always valued this escape, though I didn’t realize I had anything to escape from before. Now it’s a refuge that saves my sanity. The rest of the world falls away when I play. It’s all I can think of when Jase’s words repeat in my mind. You should save as much of yourself as you can.

  I don’t even know what there is to save. How much of what I think I am is real? Aren’t I just a product of all the lies which have been ingrained into me? The only things I know are really mine are my parents, Adwin, Vogue, and the piano.

  But upon arriving home, the purse on the foyer console table tells me that I am not alone after all. I guess she’s out of hiding. I’d be thrilled if I didn’t feel like I should be going into hiding myself. I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders back in preparation for this inevitable meeting. Vogue’s cuff gives her access to our elevator, making this unannounced visit possible. Honestly, I’m surprised it took her this long to do it.

  “Vogue, I’m so happy to see you!” I put on my best smile and hug her when she rises from the sofa.

  “We cannot go this long without seeing each other!” Even her pout is pretty.

  As we sit, she sweeps her hair over one shoulder where it hangs in long glossy waves of platinum and pale pink. There is already a half-empty glass of wine next to her.

  “What have you been doing? How is your program going? I’ve missed you so much!”

  The honest answers would be: I’ve been drowning, my program is a coverup for a rebellion, and I miss you too. I tap a screen to summon myself a martini as I think of something more appropriate to say.

  “I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry I haven’t been around. There is so much for me to catch up on. You got to work in technology in the academy, I have to start my learning now.” At least I’m not lying. I remove a cocktail onion from the silver skewer with my teeth. Vogue eyes my drink, and I wonder if she’s drawing conclusions about me drinking liquor instead of wine. This is why it’s difficult to lie to her. She knows me too well.

  “You learned things. The rule about carrying drinks in your left hand, so your right is free to shake hands with people, was useful.” She smiles at her mockery of my pointless education.

  “Yes, that was one of my favorites. I have more practical things to learn now, though, and actual work. How is yours going? And are you enjoying living by yourself?”

  “It’s good. Product development is fun. How do you like my new hair styler?”

  “It’s fantastic.” I gesture to my perfect curls to demonstrate her invention’s abilities. “Thank you for sending it to me.”

  “Of course! And yes, I love having my own apartment. I didn’t think it was possible, but things have gotten even more strained between my mother and me.” She takes a sip of wine to wash down her complicated relationship with Espy. Her mother is wonderful but expects Vogue to look runway ready at all times. Granted, Vogue does naturally look like a model—willowy height, long limbs, devastatingly beautiful face and all—but she’d rather curl up in a sweater than strut around in a high-fashion dress most days. Maybe we all have our acts to put on, but hers always poured over into her own home. Mine does now too.

  “Hopefully not living together will make your relationship easier,” I say. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since New Year’s Eve.”

  “Just settling into my apartment. Lolling around in cozies like it was a detox.” You could have had me over for that. I’m allowed to see you dressed down. “And I was under the weather for a bit.” She shakes her head to clear all of that and move on. “So, the twins and Parisa have cornered me into going out tonight,” she says. “And I can’t stand a girls’ night with them unless you’re there. Please say you’ll come!”

  “What’s wrong with them?”

  “Adelphie and Parveena are dull, and Parisa is shifty. I need backup.”

  “I can’t go tonight, I’m sorry.” Parading around with my other friends is fine, but lying to Vogue hurts too much. Distancing myself from her is horrible, but I love her too much to be so fake with her.

  “Why?” She drags the word out in a whiny tone reserved for me. With everyone else, Vogue is all fiery confidence.

  What did Mamá and Papá say they were doing tonight? “I’m going to watch my father’s rehearsal.” I tuck the fingers of my free hand under my thigh to keep them from tapping. “It’s the first symphony he’s composed in years. He’s ecstatic about it.”

  “Why did he take the music director position if it keeps him from composing?”

  “He’ll do whatever makes him the most useful.”

  We chat over our drinks, and on her way out, Vogue asks again if I might go with her. I tell her I’ll go next time, but I don’t think she puts any more faith in that than I do.

  Chapter Eleven

  SERENITY

  After Vogue leaves, the piano doesn’t even look like a haven for me. It meets my longing gaze with an indignant, ‘I’m not here to make lying to your best friend easy,’ kind of feeling. Using it for this would be sacrilege. It woul
d be just as bad as sleeping with Adwin to escape my mind.

  Having no one is horrendous. How can anyone live like this? How does Jase? My anxiously tapping fingers go to my cuff instead of piano keys to ask Jase if he’s free. First, I have to field my hairstylist ranting about a girl telling anyone who will listen that I said her highlights looked better than mine. I assure Li that I was only being kind and supportive, and he should be thanking me for finding him a potential protege. When Jase tells me he’s available, I pop a pod into my ear and call him.

  “Already used that amnesia shot and need more ammo to tinker with people’s minds?”

  All it takes is one comment making light of my situation to settle my nerves. “I’m a woman, Jase. I don’t need your drugs to toy with minds.”

  A low laugh whispers through. “I’m sure you don’t. So, what can I do for you?”

  “I know this isn’t what you gave me your contact for, but I just need someone to talk to. Someone who’s in the same world as me.” Do I sound as pathetic as I feel?

  “That’s exactly what I gave you my contact for. No one should have to deal with this alone. That’s completely unfair.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No.”

  “What?” I jolt upright from my reclined position on the sofa. “How is that possible?”

  “My friend Krisalyn works with Sophos too, and with me, in the Department of Health.”

  This changes everything! I thought he was just handling it better than me, but he wasn’t dealing with the same thing at all. I’m almost angry at him for letting me think that, except he really didn’t do or say anything to imply he was on his own. It was my assumption.

  “How long has she known?”

  “A few weeks longer than me. Sophos recruited her. She pulled me in to ‘help,’ but she hardly needs my help with work. Being alone in this would have been too hard.” Almost as an afterthought, he adds, “For anyone.”