The Breadth of Creation Page 11

  “I know,” he snapped. He glanced over at the ship, still unsure of how he felt about this. He saw Emery wave at him from the cockpit. He waved back, but he did not move forward.

  “Then what are you waiting for?” Merra shot back. “If you really love my daughter, you will go and rescue her. This isn’t the time to hesitate, if she’s really what you want.”

  He really did want her back. More than anything. And that was enough to allow Merra to take over at Chaya while he went off to infiltrate the URS.

  “Okay,” Exton finally replied. “I’m going.”

  “Good.” Tyler sighed with relief. “I’ll be in contact with you soon.”

  “Tyler?” Despite the upcoming battle, and the trouble it would likely bring, Exton smiled. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks needed,” Tyler said. “Now, go and get Aerie.”

  ♦11♦

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  The dripping noise was discomforting at best, and irritating at worst, Aerie decided as she started to climb out of her mindless stupor once more. She blinked her eyes open, only to find herself lying down on an uncomfortable pallet.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed since she’d been placed in the cell. Aerie knew it had to be at least a full day, since her stomach was grumbling with growing hunger, but there was no way to be entirely sure of the passage of time.

  At least the pain was no longer at the back of her head. Now, it was at the front, as she tried to open her eyes. At first, she wasn’t sure if something was wrong with her eyes. The room she was in was dark, with the lights only letting a dim spark escape them.

  Her vision sharpened as her eyes adapted to the darkened atmosphere. She peered more intently at the light fixtures. One of the lights at the top of the prison cell had blown out.

  Probably some time ago, too, by the look of it.

  She struggled to sit up, rubbing her shoulders and her arms, trying to get warm. When she’d first woken up, she tried to keep moving around the cell, but it was a mindless activity, one that made her even more anxious than sitting around waiting for something to happen­—waiting for some sign to be given, some event to be hinted at. Moving around proved to be a mistake, too, as she depleted her energy and her hunger increased.

  Aerie pulled her jacket more tightly across herself, trying to huddle into the small warmth it gave her.

  Something stuck into her chest as she snuggled deeper.

  “What was that?” Aerie reached into the small, secret pocket and pulled out an object. A small piece of paper fluttered out along with it, twirling onto the ground.

  Aerie recognized the photo slide; it was the one Brock had given her for her birthday.

  “I’d forgotten about that,” she murmured, before setting it down on the pallet beside her. Aerie turned her attention to the paper.

  She picked it up and glanced down. It was an old photograph, from the days of digital cameras, that featured a young boy, standing with her mother and father, and another man.

  Another hidden memory slipped out—this time of the man that boy became, as he lost his father and his faith, even as he kept his fire and his honor.

  Aerie felt her fingers tingle as her nose prickled. “I know you,” she whispered, running her fingers over his face.

  Exton, where are you?

  She tried to recall the last time she’d seen him. What had happened?

  “Well, I got shot,” she murmured to herself, wincing at her shoulder’s stiffness. The cold and the dark added much to its discomfort. She looked at the picture again, forcing herself to move beyond the instant pain in her head, pushing onward toward the memories she knew were inside her heart.

  She remembered the grim determination on Exton’s face. She felt the warmth of his body on hers. She heard the sadness of a woman’s voice ...

  Emery.

  Emery had been her friend. She was Exton’s sister. She hadn’t wanted Aerie to leave.

  But I had to go. Because ...

  The General ... her father managed to get Exton to release her to him.

  So he knew. He knew the truth about what happened. I fought with him. I wanted to stay with Exton.

  Aerie sighed. She wanted to be with him now.

  Glancing around, Aerie doubted she was in any position to do anything more than wish for that possibility. The room she was being held in was small and dark, with no windows. She was freezing and starving and alone. The perpetual night was beginning to wear on her nerves.

  Which was probably what they wanted, Aerie recalled. She hadn’t learned much about the Reeducation Center when she was in school. Most instructors did not talk about it, only saying that it was for incorrigible students. From others, she heard the whispers that warned of the place, saying it was a place that was specifically designed to break the human will.

  She gulped. She didn’t want to think about that.

  Doing nothing had to be better than that, she thought grimly.

  There was still the slim chance that the General would step in and stop her admittance into the Reeducation Center.

  “Ha.” Aerie shook her head. Looking down at the younger portrait of her father in her hand, with the bright red “X” marked over his face, she knew it was a likely hopeless cause.

  The lock on the door clicked.

  Aerie jumped and quickly stuffed the picture back into the depths of her pocket. She grabbed the photo slide of Brock at graduation and thrust it on top of it, desperate to keep the photo from the URS.

  They’ve already taken everything I love away from me—my mother died, my father has abandoned and condemned me, and Exton is halfway around the world. I won’t let them take anything else.

  She dropped her head onto her chest. How did one person manage to hold onto such sadness?

  “Comrade St. Cloud?”

  Aerie jolted. I know that voice.

  Meredith was at her door.

  “You!” Aerie hissed. “What are you doing here?”

  Meredith shook her head ever so slightly. “I need to change your sheets,” she said crisply. “It should only take a few moments. If you try to interfere, you will be subdued.”

  As the door shut behind her, Meredith began moving swiftly. “I can’t be here long,” she whispered to Aerie. “And I’m sorry you’re here. I can’t do anything to help right now, or it would be too suspicious. They’re already watching me.”

  “Who? The URS?” Aerie asked.

  “Shh ... we can whisper in here, but that’s all,” Meredith told her as she stripped the pallet of its thin sheet cover. “But yes. The URS is very careful about who has access to enemies of the State.”

  That’s what I am now, Aerie reminded herself. An enemy. Or at least, an acknowledged one.

  “Do they know about ... about how we met?” Aerie asked softly.

  Meredith shook her head. “I’ve been put in charge of your care,” she said. “But I can’t make it easy on you, especially if we’re going to try to rescue you. I hope you can understand.”

  Aerie nodded, before the full meaning of her words hit her. “Who’s going to rescue me?”

  “The Ecclesia,” Meredith said. Her dark eyes glittered in the small light. “Do you remember them? I know you’ve been able to remember some things.”

  Aerie frowned, digging around inside her memory. “I remember the Perdition,” she said.

  “I was hoping you would be able to remember more.”

  “That’s why you showed me my med file,” Aerie realized.

  “Yes.” Meredith nodded. “I saved your jacket for you when you first came to the hospital. I know the Perdition’s clothing when I see it.”

  “You saved me,” Aerie whispered. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  Meredith grimaced. “I haven’t saved you yet. The Ecclesia and I are working to help get you free.”

  “The Ecclesia?”

  “Some of them are on the crew of the Perdition,” M
eredith said as she put a new cover on the small bed, tucking the sheet under in a brisk, practiced movement. “I have special contacts there that are very interested in getting you back home.”

  “Home?” Aerie felt herself fall against the hard, stone walls. Home with Exton, and Emery, and all the other people her mind could not remember but her heart could not forget.

  She felt a rush of excitement. Her butt involuntarily wriggled in anticipation.

  “We have to time it just right,” Meredith said. “I have some contacts and we’re all working on a plan. Most of the dissenters who are sent here are sent to the southern region. The URS has an older facility there. We can intercept once we know for sure.”

  Aerie reached out and took her arm. “Thank you for this.”

  “It wasn’t our intention to get you sent here.” Meredith looked at her apologetically. “You will still have to be processed here. It is not going to be pleasant. You might not be so thankful by the time the doctors come to get you.”

  Aerie shook her head. “I’ll survive,” she said. “And it’ll help knowing that it’s not for a long time.”

  “‘Long time’ is still a relative term,” Meredith said. She suddenly looked sad. “I have been here for five years, and every day still feels like an eternity to me.”

  “Come with me, then,” Aerie said. “Surely we can both escape.”

  Meredith shook her head. “I have something greater than my comfort,” she whispered.

  Something greater. Aerie remembered Exton talking about that.

  Before she could ask about it, Meredith cleared her throat pointedly. “I have other duties to attend to,” she said, her brusque tone returning as she gathered up the old set of sheets.

  Aerie watched as she walked stiffly out the door. The lock jiggled closed once more.

  With nothing more to do but hope, Aerie sat back down on her pallet. The new sheets felt the same as the old ones, but the comfort that they brought her was undeniably new.

  Hours passed as Aerie sat in silence, trying to remember more. She fought off the accompanying headaches, knowing that the pain of not knowing was worse than the pain any pounding headache could bring.

  Another medical assistant, one Aerie didn’t recognize, brought some weak tea and hard bread for her to eat. This one said nothing to her, just threw it down on the floor and headed back out of the room.

  I guess I’m not the only one who hates their job, Aerie thought. Her stomach rumbled as she contemplated the meal. She picked up the bread and sniffed at it, surprised to find that she had no desire to eat it. She put the tea and bread aside, determined to save it for later.

  “After all my headaches today,” Aerie murmured, “I just want to take a nap.”

  She struggled to fall asleep, unable to get comfortable.

  Before she could doze off into deeper sleep, her door opened and a team of medics came in.

  “Is she asleep?” Aerie heard one of them ask.

  “Barely,” another one answered.

  “Let’s just get this part done and over with,” the last one said. She held up a needle.

  Aerie nearly jolted upright, but she tightened. She didn’t want them to know she wasn’t asleep—she wanted to know what they were up to, and she didn’t want them to punish her further.

  “Injecting local anesthesia,” the lady medic said as she thrust the needle into Aerie’s shoulder. She instantly jerked in response, but the other medics held her down.

  “She’s strong,” one of them said, as Aerie’s legs flailed against him.

  “She’ll be broken soon enough,” the other one said as he pressed down on her arms. “Here, give me the chip.”

  Aerie squeezed her eyes shut as she felt a burning strip of metal press against the underside her wrist. She heard the sizzle of her flesh and struggled not to let her anguish slip free. She tasted blood on the inside of her cheek as tears slipped quietly from her eyes.

  “Good job. Let’s get the rest of her vitals,” the lady medic said, “and then we’ll move onto stage three.”

  “She’s not scheduled for deportation?”

  “No.” The lady shook her head as she turned toward the small cart behind her. She took out a blood vial. “Osgood wants her here, under close supervision. Says she’s his new favorite patient.”

  That’s surprising, Aerie thought as she continued to bite back her objections. She wasn’t aware she’d ever caused anyone from the higher levels of the URS to take notice of her.

  “He knows it’s better having an upper hand when it comes to dealing with St. Cloud,” the other tech said.

  Aerie sucked in her breath as another needle pricked her skin. She felt her energy slide out of her as several vials were filled with her blood.

  It seemed like hours had passed before the lady stripped off her gloves. “Alright. We’re finished here. For now. Let’s get these back to the lab for testing and process her records.”

  “Next time, we’ll have to give her more sleeping potion,” one of the medics said. “She’s barely asleep.” He pinched her leg, in a playful, sadistic manner, and Aerie jolted at the discomfort. He laughed.

  “Don’t make it worse,” the other man said.

  “She’s still down at least. At worst, she’ll just think this was a bad dream.”

  “You really should control yourself. Even if General St. Cloud reported her, he’ll still be upset with you if you break protocol,” the lady replied. “But I’ll mark your suggestion down in her file. I thought the tea was enough considering her height and weight, but upping the dosage can’t hurt. Or at least, it can’t hurt her.”

  The tea! Aerie was suddenly grateful she had been unwilling to eat or drink much of the meal she was given. She was determined to keep her wits about her, even if she had to suffer from the pain of being awake.

  She knew that it was more important for her to know what was going on.

  The medics packed up and left her, leaving her eternally grateful to be alone once more.

  Long moments passed before she allowed herself—forced herself—to move. Her arms ached from being poked with all the needles. The cold settled into a deeper level, and her shoulder still pinched in discomfort.

  She glanced down at her wrist. There was a small band of metal burned into her skin, formed into numbers. Aerie could see her blood vessels underneath, inflamed from the unwelcome contact.

  An enemy of the State, Aerie reminded herself. The numbers had been branded into her, marking her for life. Awkwardly, she rubbed her fingertips over the raised digits. It would take some getting used to, she decided, but the worst part of the pain seemed to be over.

  If this is the worst they do, I’ll be alright.

  Aerie was determined to be alright anyway. Even if Grant Osgood was excited to have her enrolled in the program.

  She considered the man who was her father’s boss and her nation’s leader. Osgood had always been a cunning figure, even if he seemed affable at first. She had never really liked him, and hesitated to call him handsome as many other students and workers did. Experiencing firsthand how the people were treated and branded at the Reeducation Center, she decided she liked him even less.

  Why is he so happy to have me here? Aerie wondered. Was it just to get to the General?

  Aerie sighed as she pulled out the picture from her pocket again. She could only hope that Meredith would come back with news soon. With the tea outed as a sleeping draught, she knew she couldn’t hold on much longer. She was already starting to drift off to sleep against her will.

  Aerie didn’t know time had passed at all, until the door suddenly burst open, jolting her from an uneasy sleep.

  “What is it?” Aerie murmured, rubbing her eyes. She looked up to see a man standing in the doorway, shadows cloaking him. Am I about to be rescued?

  “It’s time you and I had a chat,” the man said. He stepped up closer to her face, and Aerie could see it was the man who had arrested her, Lieutenant Dubois.r />
  ♦12♦

  Aerie hated that her vision swam in and out as she was hauled off her pallet and dragged into the hallway. She stumbled and fell, scraping her knee against the floor. Even though she grunted at the pain, she was relieved it helped to wake her up more. She was still tired.

  “Come,” the lieutenant snapped. “I have been looking forward to this ever since I delivered you to the Reeducation Center.”

  “Why?” Aerie mumbled.

  “Speak up, Comrade,” Lieutenant Dubois called out to her as he led her to a new room.

  Aerie had to blink several times as her eyes slowly and unwillingly adjusted to the bright light. There was a hospital bed in the middle of the room, surrounded by a few techs and several large machines.

  “Why are you so interested in talking with me, Lieutenant?” she asked, this time nearly shouting as he pushed her into the room.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” he told her. A beeping sound went off on the comm attached to his uniform. He groaned, before he reached into a drawer and pulled out a garment. “Here. The medics will get you ready while I answer this.”

  The medical gown, thin and cool, hit her squarely in the chest. Her shoulder ached as she reached up to grasp it, and then she felt the first inkling of fear strong enough to put her body on full alert.

  A woman clothed with a pair of scrubs and a facemask came up to her. “Let me take your jacket.”

  Aerie was relieved to recognize Meredith at the sound of her voice, but she quickly caught the warning in the woman’s eye.

  She clamped her mouth shut, clenched her fists, and slowly began to take off her jacket in the freezing room. Aerie took one last chance to cling to it, trying desperately to memorize the scent that had mixed with her own over the last week. Her standard uniform, with its short sleeves and flexible material, would not keep her from the cold.

  When Lieutenant Dubois came back into the room, an angry look on his face, she knew it was the only comfort she would be allowed.

  Behind her, Meredith gasped. “Gerard? What are you doing here? I thought you were promoted.”