Alternity (18 page)

“So when you first get there, you’re just wandering around, undocumented?” I ask.

“Yes. That’s your first quest, from what we understand,” says Ruth.

“Quest?” I scrunch my eyebrows. “What do you mean, ‘quest’?”

Hiro shrugs. “Um, like a mission, I guess? From what we understand, Terrans are given a list of tasks to accomplish when they first reach Earth. They’re rewarded for accomplishing these tasks with things like driver’s licenses, Social Security cards, and money.”

I stare at him. “It sounds like a game.”

“Well, it is sort of, right?” Kayce says. “The game of life.” He laughs. “I think the government is just trying to make things more interesting so ‘Gazers will want to stay forever. After all, if they came back, the government would have to return all their money. I doubt they’re very interested in doing that.”

“They don’t have to worry,” pipes up the pierced boy who earlier introduced himself as Taryn. “No one ever comes back. Except you. And we had to pull you out by force.”

“True,” agrees Hiro. He looks a bit resigned. “Anyway, that’s about it. The Indys are evacuating Terra on a daily basis. The government is taking over all their assets—houses, land, the works. The Circle of Eight claims the people are migrating to a better world—”

“But if that’s true, how come none of them ‘Gaze?” finishes Kayce. “That’s the question.”

“And that’s part of what Mariah was trying to find out,” I conclude.

“Yes. But if you ever did learn the reason, you never told any of us,” Ruth admits. “And shortly after that, you were taken from us.”

“What a horrible night,” Hiro says solemnly. “The government kidnaps you and decimates our attempts to sabotage their seminar, all in one blow.”

“Such an odd coincidence,” Dawn mutters under his breath so only I can hear.

“But now we’ve brought you back!” Ruth crows. “An unquantifiable success for our team. We can only pray that your return—even if it’s only temporary—will bring some hope back to the cause.”

“Hell, I feel some of mine returning already!” cries Taryn, crossing the room and slapping me on the back. “I can’t wait for tonight. I believe you’re still you, even if you don’t think so!”

I force a smile to my lips, hoping they’ll buy the halfhearted expression. How did I get myself into this?

I shake my head.
Don’t be selfish, Skye
. It’s just one night. One event. And it’s for a good cause, too. I’ll do my part, help them out with a little inspiration, then head back to Earth tomorrow. Back to normalcy. I can put this whole thing behind me for good.

So how come I’m suddenly not so sure?

THIRTEEN

A few hours later I find myself standing behind a thick red curtain strung across some sort of large stage that’s been carved out of solid rock. I can hear the crowd gathering on the other side, a building roar of excited murmurs, shouts and laughter rising above the pounding techno music that blasts from large speakers strategically placed around the cave.

“They sound like they’re having a good time,” I remark to Ruth, who is attaching a wireless microphone to the lapel of my jacket. Earlier, I was fitted with a new outfit: a sweeping black duster jacket, like the rest of the Eclipsers wear, tight black pants, knee-high boots. I now look the part. Hopefully I can talk the talk.

Ruth nods. “Indeed. The Dark Siders work hard all day, slaving away in the mines and factories. When they clock out, they’re in desperate need of stress relief. Actually, it was you who came up with the idea of holding weekly gatherings. To dance and drink and let off steam. By doing this, you believed, it would cut down on the in-fighting and add to the community spirit of the different Dark Sider enclaves.”

“And has it worked?” I guess it’s not so odd to think of me, former club-kid girl extraordinaire with the DJ boyfriend, coming up with the idea to hold weekly dance parties. Maybe Mariah and I have more in common than I thought.

“Definitely. We’ve seen a marked decrease in violence since we started holding the raves. People work off their anger and frustration on the dance floor. And they get to know their neighbors better. It’s made us into a more cohesive group, rather than a bunch of independent slave pods. And the more we can align, the more power we have to fight against oppression.”

“We even have our own alcohol,” Kayce says, stepping up with two drinks in his hand. He presents one to me. Clouds of purple steam rise from the glass, as if it’s been dusted with dry ice. I take a tentative sip, immediately recoiling at the potency. I think I’ve just swallowed fire. Kayce laughs. “Yeah, strong stuff,” he says. “Total black market. The government has their own watered-down gin they send down with the rations. Just enough to lull you to sleep, not get you rip-roaring drunk like this will. This,” he says, taking a swig from his own glass, “will totally kick your ass.”

I raise my glass in a salute. I guess there’s no drinking age in Terra. “Here’s to getting my ass kicked,” I toast, then tip the glass backward and swallow the reminder. It scorches my throat and heats my insides. But it’s worth it. After all, in a few moments I have to face the throng, pretend I’m their valiant leader, back from an alternate reality prison. A little liquid courage can’t hurt.

“I wish you would have gotten a chance to talk to some of the Dark Siders while you were here,” Ruth says, taking my glass from me and setting it on a nearby tray. “They’re really amazing people. They have so little, and yet they refuse to curl up and die. They have a passion that’s truly impressive. And you are solely responsible for it all.”

“I wish I could have stayed longer,” I say, honestly more than a bit regretful. There’s so much here I’d like to learn. It’s too bad I couldn’t travel back and forth between worlds at will. Go back to Earth, help launch the game, take my finals, then come back here for summer break or something, helping them reinvigorate their cause. It would be nice to meet the people. The ones in town were so sweet. So welcoming.

“Okay, we’re going to make the final preparations,” Ruth says. “We’ll come get you in a minute.” She turns on her heel and walks over to another part of the stage, Kayce in tow.

“Are you ready?” Dawn asks, coming up behind me and placing his hands on my shoulders. His touch sends a now familiar tingle through me, but I try to ignore it. Getting all hot and bothered is not going to help me face the masses. Or face leaving Terra for Earth tomorrow.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, turning to him. I look into his beautiful glowing eyes. “Though I have no idea what I’m supposed to say. Did you write me a speech or something?”

Dawn smiles down at me and takes my hands in his. “You don’t have to say a word,” he says. “Just having you standing there onstage will be enough. The people will see that Mariah has returned. That she is leading the Eclipsers again. They will find hope and courage just realizing that.”

I laugh self-consciously. It’s still blowing my mind that people would see little old me as a symbol of hope. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

Dawn squeezes my hands. “I want to thank you for doing this,” he says. “I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you. Thrown headfirst into a raging war and being told you’re the leader of the losing side. It’s got to be a lot to take in. And yet, you’ve agreed to help us. You can’t begin to know what that means to the Eclipsers.” He pauses, then adds, “What it means to me.”

I can feel my face redden at his compliment. “Yeah, well, I mean, it’s not really a big deal.”

He catches my eyes in his, and my knees almost buckle at the intensity of his gaze. But he holds me up. “It
is
a big deal,” he says softly. “It’s a huge deal. So accept my thank you and don’t argue.”

I laugh nervously. “Okay, okay,” I say, admitting defeat. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I can help in some small way.” And I am, I realize. I feel warm and fuzzy at the idea that I’m able to provide some solace to the masses just by being me, or at least Mariah. These people need a symbol of hope. I’m helping them. And in return, I’m helping Dawn. That’s what matters. Thoughts of returning to my real life can be set aside for a bit. Tonight is about the oppressed people of Terra, the Dark Siders. And whatever little thing I can do to help their cause, I should be prepared to do.

“We’re ready for you now,” Ruth says. She reaches over and straightens my microphone. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes,” I say, glancing back at Dawn, confidence, which has nothing to do with the alcohol welling up inside of me. “I think I am.”

The music fades and I can hear the MC silencing the crowd. He’s a pro, and a moment later the chatter and murmuring fades to an almost eerie silence. “It’s good to see everyone out and about tonight,” he says, his voice echoing through the cavern. “I know with the recent production increase mandates you’ve been working long, hard hours. And with the cut in rations, it’s not been on very much food.”

A few boos erupt, the crowd evidently not big fans of hard work with ration cutting.

“But tonight is a special night. And we have a special surprise for all of you.”

“Tickets to Earth?” shouts one heckler, prompting a smattering of laughter and appreciative applause.

“Better,” says the MC, a smile in his voice. “Tonight we have a very important guest here to see you.”

“Is it the Circle of Eight?” another heckler calls out. “And have they agreed to let us tar and feather them?” More laughter. I love that they’re able to keep a sense of humor through all they’ve suffered.

The MC shakes his head. “Even better,” he says, then pauses dramatically. A hush falls over the crowd. It’s as if this entire room of thousands is holding its breath at once. “Tonight only. Making her glorious return to Terra after months on Earth. I give you the one, the only—”

“Get to the center of the stage,” Ruth urges, pushing me forward. The curtain begins to draw back. I take a hesitant step, all of a sudden not one bit ready to meet my public.

“Mariah Quinn!” the MC bellows as the curtain sweeps open. A spotlight shines down on me, blinding me where I stand. The crowd goes silent. I can feel thousands of eyes staring at me in shocked disbelief as I make my way to the front of the stage. Not sure what to do, I give the crowd a little Miss America–type wave. Cheesy, but I can’t think of anything else on the fly.

Then it happens. One by one every member of the audience, every Dark Sider in the crowd, gets down on his or her knees. They raise their hands over their heads and open their mouths, one single word leaving their lips, over and over again. Pulsing, throbbing, electrifying.

Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah
.

The chant starts low, but grows in volume and intensity.

Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah.

The sound washes over me. My name. I mean,
her
name, rolling off their tongues in an all-powerful caress.

Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah. Mar-i-ah.

I shiver, chills wracking my body with the power their chant invokes. I certainly wasn’t prepared for this kind of worship. What could Mariah have possibly done to inspire such loyalty? Could her plans and actions actually have made this much of a difference in these people’s lives? I wonder if she enjoyed this: playing the role of goddess. Everywhere she went, people worshipped her. Did she get off on it? Or was she a reluctant leader?

And again, what happened in the end? She left them high and dry? Abandoned them for a happier, richer life on Earth? Betrayed their eternal devotion—not to mention Dawn’s love—to look into the moon?

No wonder Dawn hates her so much. She’s beginning to strike a sour note with me as well. Not that in a way I’m not doing the same kind of thing, returning to Earth after this night and all. But the difference is, this isn’t my fight. I didn’t start something I couldn’t finish like she did.

Not that rationalizing eases the guilt all that much as I look down at the people on their knees before me.

I open my mouth to speak, not at all sure what I should say, if anything. Still, I feel the need to at least send a few encouraging thoughts their way. After all, it’s not every day I get bowed down to and chanted at.

“People of Terra,” I begin, my voice quavering. “It has been a long time. I know you’ve been through some terrible ordeals while I’ve been away. And I know the government’s asked you to believe some horrible things about my departure. But I stand here before you tonight, dedicated to our cause and asking you to renew your faith as well. I understand how easy it can be to settle into your daily existence. To give up and figure it’s not worth fighting the good fight. But we all know, deep in our hearts, it is worth it. Every bead of sweat, every drop of blood, every tear shed—it all brings us one step closer to our ultimate goal. To freedom!”

The crowd leaps to its feet as one, cheering and clapping and whooping. I’ve got to admit, I’m pretty impressed myself. I have no idea where that speech came from. But I’m glad it touched them somehow. I steal a glance at Ruth, who’s standing at the side of the stage. She’s beaming and clapping. A sense of pride swells inside me. I’ve not let them down.

But suddenly the cheers are replaced by screams of terror. I look back at the audience and see armed men in silver-colored body armor bursting through the auditorium doors, throwing smoke bombs into the crowd, assaulting the Dark Siders where they stand.

“Stay where you are!” a voice from a megaphone commands. “You are all under arrest for violation of the Terra Code 1-55435-4. Unauthorized political gatherings are not permitted under the law.”

Panic ensues, the blinded crowd trying unsuccessfully to dissipate before being knocked down by the gas fumes. It’s total chaos—running, trampling, screaming, begging. I watch the scene in horror from the stage, my hands fingering my sword belt, wondering if drawing a weapon I don’t know how to use will do any good. I’m so lost in the riot before me that at first I don’t feel the hand at my arm, frantically trying to pull me offstage. Then something registers and I whirl around, ready to meet friend or foe head-on.

I realize it’s Dawn, his face ashen and his eyes wide.