daynight (8 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Blake

‘Crap, crap, crap,’ I think, pounding my head on the side of the shower.
I don’t know how to do this, and am quite sure I’m going about it all wrong. Kira seems to be intrigued by me, which I need her to be. This is exactly what the powers that be want—they want us to hook up and make the Cleaving automatic. I need them to think that it’s going to happen so I can cover my tracks on my real mission here.

I was a complete dick to Kira at breakfast, because I just know that she’s been waited on hand and foot, and that trend’s got to stop, so I tell her I’m not after her. Guys always get accused of going after the challenge, but chicks can’t resist the unattainable either.
 

The medical pit stop went fine and I think I managed to act surprised at the outdoor landscape, but then we go to training, and I can tell right off the chairs are biometric. This means the powers that be will be tracking every single heartbeat, so they can observe how we’re responding to the smelly load of crap they’re feeding us. They want to make sure the info is new and fresh coming in, and that we’re not plants. Kira aces her reaction, pummeling them with questions and pounding on her tablet when the answers aren’t to her satisfaction.

I’m trying to figure out how
I’m
going to pull it off and then it occurs to me that if I can get them to think that any abnormalities in my feed are because they stuffed me in close quarters to this incredibly hot chick, then I’ll pass with flying colors. She’s all up in my face and asking me about my eyes, staring at me all lovey-dovey, so then I start ‘accidentally’ brushing her with my hands and arms, and next thing I know she’s asleep on my shoulder. My mind starts wandering places it shouldn’t go, but there’s only so much involvement I’m willing to have with this girl. Maybe Kira’s not the airhead cheerleader I originally thought, but not really relationship material either. As if I could allow anyone to become relationship material. Been there, been burned.

The workout was physically great, mentally brutal. I’ve been trained to focus, so that’s the only thing that got me through. Because when I walked in and saw her dressed in the standard issue close-to-naked workout fare, I started thinking maybe I can mix a little pleasure with business. But then I think, no way, I’m not her type anyway. She likes big, burly, stupid dudes who pretend to respect her by burying themselves in a bottle. Then she sees me shirtless, about falls off her treadmill, and I think she just may be able to adapt to someone slimmer and smarter. I don’t react though. I’ve been taught well and that gives me the upper hand.
 

Now what do I do? I pound my head a few more times, letting the cold water wash over me, trying to figure out my next play. What I need to do is dial it down a few notches. I know what’s coming when training finishes and she’s going to lose it, that’s a certainty. And when she finds out I knew about it ahead of time and didn’t warn her, she’s going to hate me. But she’d want me dead if I started something with her now and then found out. Didn’t I learn my lesson about how psychotic girls get when you betray them? Kira could turn me in for revenge. And I have too many people counting on me to die over what is realistically a hormonal reaction to a hot chick. I back off or come clean with her, the latter being pretty impossible when we’re being watched 24/7 and I still don’t know if I can trust her. Plus, I’m counting on her reaction to what’s on deck to be genuine and if I give her a heads-up we could both end up dead by week’s end.

I decide dialing it back is my best bet, get out of the shower, and wrap myself in a towel. As I walk to my locker, I hear a familiar voice coming from the steam room and think maybe Ted has some info I need. As I approach I see he’s not alone, so stop in my tracks and strain to listen instead. The man speaking with Ted has his back to me, so all I can see is the remains of his thinning dark hair and a few extra rolls of fat. I crouch down to stay unseen, creating a pool of water below me as I drip onto the floor.

“What brings you to the Recruit gym, Ted? I thought you’d still be recovering from your entry.”
 

“I came to see how my new Recruits are faring—to make sure they’re adjusting well to things,” he says. “But then I started to feel some heaves coming on and decided to step into the steamer for a bit.”
 

“Getting the girl was a major coup. Promotion material. We’d all thought pure Lights were extinct. And to get both Light and Dark Originals, a perfectly Cleavable set even, is nothing short of miraculous. They came through without a scratch, too, which has the geneticists celebrating. Amazing. The specifics are above my pay grade, but rumor has it we’re witnessing history in the making. ” My father didn’t instruct me about any ‘Originals,’ although the term does sound familiar. I can’t retrieve the memory, so focus on what I do know, which is that I don’t like hearing that Kira and I are central to the future of the Second Chance Institute.

“It’s confirmed, then? I hadn’t heard the final DNA tests were back.” I wish I could look at his face, because Ted told me that he didn’t know what they wanted us for and I’d like to know if he’s bluffing to get the information or if he’s known all along.

“Confirmed, though with DNT levels that high they had to be. They are very special, those two. And there seems to be chemistry there, as least that’s what their feeds are showing. Think they’ll Cleave on their own, or will they need help?” he asks.

“I’d guess that will depend on how they react to meeting the Second Chancers,” Ted says. “The girl may not take it well.”

“I don’t think that will be an issue. He’ll likely be Cleaved before their training is complete. And if not, we’ll force the issue by showing her the footage.” He thinks we’ll be Cleaved before training is complete? Or is he even talking about me? I’m not sure. Not after that reference to Second Chancers, which may mean they’re playing with some serious fire. And what ‘footage’ will they show Kira?
 

“That sounds like a solid plan.”

“It will be if we can get Brad Darcton to agree. He has other ideas for the girl that are resonating with several members of the Ten.” What ideas?

“I thought this whole thing was his plan?” Ted says.

“Getting the girl was his idea, but not the duo. He doesn’t think the boy’s right for her, even though he’s got a cleaner health record than the alternative,” the stranger says, confusing me further about what boy he’s referencing. He pauses before adding, “But, I’m here because I have a more pressing concern. The girl has been asking a lot of questions through her tablet, some of them pretty derogatory. We tallied over seventy-five this evening alone. Should we be worried? Her Test results didn’t paint her as rebellious.”

“Nothing to fret over. Everything is a puzzle to her and this one is incomplete. Just give her some pieces that’ll fit. Be creative.” Great, Ted. Encourage them to tell us more lies, because I haven’t heard enough already.

I want to stay to hear the rest, but can’t risk being caught eavesdropping or late to the next training session. Things can go downhill quickly here if you start skirting the rules. I momentarily unhitch my towel to sop up the puddle of water below before heading to get dressed, committing the conversation to memory.
 

The two men sounded like my father
with all the talk of Kira and I being ‘special.’ The last I time I heard those words was the day I passed through the Exiler-controlled exit portal from Thera to Earth. After my mother’s death, my father obsessed over finding a way to get my sister and me off Thera. He couldn’t be sure we’d have the ability even if a portal were found, but he’d promised my mother, so he joined every search party for nearly four years before the Exilers located and secured one. The problem with discovering new portals was that any portal exiting on land in Thera would enter in water on Earth and vice versa, making the passage extremely dangerous.

A couple men lost their lives as they happened on a portal by accident, landing in ocean water with no boats in sight to provide rescue. Typically, Second Chancers led search parties, as they’d bounce if they hit one, but for some reason two Daynighters had set out early on one particular search. After they disappeared from view, but didn’t return by way of the entrance portal later, the Exilers decided to send the next men through with crudely made rafts. The plan worked, and these men then arranged to have a more permanent, albeit primitive structure erected, anchored to the ocean floor.

My father dumped us in Doc Daryn’s care for six months after the find while he went to secure us a new home and identities on Earth. He hooked up with my ‘Aunt Jennifer,’ a childless distant relative of another Daynighter who’d been Exiled. She owned (and still owns) a modest house in a pleasant area of San Diego with good schools, a beautiful garden, and had inherited enough from her grandfather to support our family. Her location proved strategic for my father, being equidistant between the Exiler-controlled entrance and exit portals to the Garden City area of Thera.

The four-night journey to the exit portal on foot sucked for my father with a five and eight year old in tow. He carried my sister most the fifteen-mile hike each night. We scrambled to reach Exiler-hosted shelters by sunrise, but the inland heat made sleep during the day uncomfortable. My sister begged to return to Doc Daryn’s house. I whimpered with every step, my undersized shoes blistering and bloodying my feet.

The first night we passed the Eco barrier of Garden City, the canyon lights aglow in the distance. I’d only seen them once prior. Leila squealed and clapped at the spectacle, the only lights she’d previously seen being flashlights, cooking fires, and the sun. Upon visiting the outskirts of the city before, I’d envied the lights and seeming comfort of city life, but my dad and a near death experience soured my opinion. That day bad dreams haunted my sleep, making me slow and weary the following evening.

Two bands of gypsies shared shelter with us on our trip. The first had been workers in Farm City and had been Exiled for resisting the extreme work conditions that included daytime harvests. Their leathery skin cracked and scaled like a desert lizard’s. I’d been shocked to see the unhealthy looking collection of ‘escaped’ farm animals that accompanied the party, including a horse, milk cow, goat, and mule. Since their Exile, the workers had traveled south in search of Exiler communities, trying to rally support for a full-scale external revolt against the Theran cities. My dad pointed them in the direction of the other extremists in our home community.

The second group hailed from Military City, twenty-five men and women marching in perfect unison. Their tales of the dictatorship regime, blind obedience expected, and execution of unwanted Second Chance citizens made my father’s description of Garden City sound like paradise. Well organized, they had a plan to train an army and overthrow Garden City headquarters that piqued my father’s interest, but they’d been Exiled without their weapons. Without the right arsenal any attack would be fruitless. They’d either have to bring munitions from Earth, or gain access to Military City’s vast supply. The latter would require crossing the Eco barrier, an impossible feat without insider information. At nightfall, the Militants were sent along to join my father’s band of Exilers, with promises that my father would return soon to hear more of their plans to shift the balance of power on Thera.

I see how that chance encounter with the Militants turned my father towards extremism. Had we taken an alternate route to the portal, left a different night, or slept in different caves, my father may never have gotten on the Militants’ bandwagon of revolt. Sure, the Exilers had always looked for ways to improve their situation or make changes in the status quo on Thera, but their ideas and methods were tame compared to the Military City men and women’s brute force approach. But, my father readily drank their poison and sent them to infect the rest the Exilers. They were received with open arms by my father’s cohorts who’d resorted to extreme measures to protect our band of misfits in the past.

On our final night’s travel to the portal we got a late start. Leila staged a dramatic temper tantrum. I dragged, slowing us further. The bugs swarmed more than usual and as I required more oxygen and had to suck in air by mouth, I’d ended up consuming bug chunks all night. My dad welcomed the ‘extra protein,’ but chewing on the crunchy creatures made me gag. I forced myself to swallow, knowing the roots we’d had for breakfast couldn’t provide the sustenance to take me the distance.

At sunrise we had five miles left to go, and my dad chose to press on. Two and a half hours later we’d arrived, dehydrated and severely sunburned, at a small hut. An aged lady, horrified by our condition, insisted she minister to our wounds before allowing us to attempt passage. She covered us with a silvery-green paste and poured water into us until we felt bloated. The delay irritated my father, as our boat ride on the other side could decide we’d failed to pass through and return to shore, leaving us stranded.

“We must leave now,” he’d said, pulling Leila from the lady’s arms.

“How can you be sure they won’t bounce?” the woman responded.

“They are special,” he’d said.
 

“Originals?” she’d asked.
That’s
where I’d heard it.
 

“It’d be hard to prove that without a DNA test out here, wouldn’t it?” he’d quipped. Why didn’t he ever mention it to me? Years of training and he fails to note something so critical to the motivations of the SCI?

“Blake, you go first. Just walk down that dark corridor. Leila you’ll follow your brother, and I’ll follow you.” Energized by the water, ointment, and visions of food and bounties in the ‘promised land,’ I bounded forth. The shock-like sensations I felt couldn’t touch the pain of my burns and blisters, so they barely registered.

Once through, the motion of the uncovered barge amplified an already queasy stomach, and I vomited what little water remained in my system. My sister did the same, although her reaction was more violent than mine. My father convulsed and heaved more heavily than Leila and me combined. I sat on the platform and let the ocean breeze wash over me. In two minutes time the temperature had dropped more than fifty degrees. The fact that the sun shone brightly but the air felt cool floored me. I shivered as my body adjusted.