Implanted (The Ascension Series Book 2) (3 page)

Chapter 5

FRAN

When Fran awoke, the sun sat high in a cloudless sky. The late morning rays had only peeked over the tree line when she’d closed her eyes, and panic and confusion circled her head. She barked the first word that came to mind.

“Ret?”

She rolled onto her side, crawled onto all fours, and waited for the world to stop spinning before standing on shaky legs.

“Ret?” She called out again, hoping he was nearby. She took a few tentative steps toward the tree line and as she did, a stone whistled past her head. Fran ducked.

Ret emerged from the trees. “Afternoon, Wolf.”

“What was that?” Fran rubbed the side of her head as if she’d been hit.

“A perfect shot.”

“You nearly killed me.”

“But I didn’t …” Ret arched a brow.

She hadn’t interacted much with Ret during this week as he was constantly tending to chores, splitting logs, or hefting heavy loads. Now he seemed more like a regular guy than a detached powerhouse. Warmth crept up her neck.

“Well, you almost did,” she huffed. She tossed her hands onto her hips and eyed him up and down. “Teach me.”

In a blur of movement, Ret swept a stone from the ground and loaded it into his leather strap. “Keep an eye on that low hanging branch.”  With a lift of his chin, Ret motioned toward a drooping limb on a faraway tree.

Fran shook her head. “No way. Too far.”

He swung his sling through the air in a whirring circle, reminding Fran of the mega-fan in the air vents. A high pitched whistle preceded a hard
thunk
.

He turned and grinned.

Although impressed, Fran said, “Have you always been such a show-off?”

“Well, in truth,” he unearthed another rock, “I haven’t really had anyone to show off to.” He loaded the ammo, whipped the sling around, and after another
thunk
marked a hit, dropped his arm and lifted his gaze to Fran. “Until now, anyway.”

Fran snorted. “The only young guy out here.” She figured him to be her age, maybe a year or two older.

He pounded his chest. “The one and only.”

Fran rolled her eyes. “Not anymore, Tarzan.”

Ret laughed. “True. But I didn’t come from down there.” He nodded toward the ground.

As the banter continued, the cracking of twigs marked another visitor. Ret scooped a stone into his sling and readied himself for a launch just as Fran’s father emerged from the woods.

“Whoa. Don’t shoot,” he said.

“Sorry, Ian,” Ret said while dropping his stone.

Ian chuckled and held his hands overhead. “I come in peace.” He flicked his gaze to Fran and added, “Well, more peaceful than your mother, anyway.”

“Seriously?” she grumbled.

“Seriously, Fran. She’s up to her eyebrows in worry.”

“But—”

“I know, I know. You’re fine,” Dad said, “But your mother is going to need to see for herself.” Ian nodded toward the tree line.

Fran crossed her arms and looked down at her feet to avoid Ret’s gaze. She curled her toes into the grass and pulled at the blades before walking over to where her booties lay. Without a word, she laced them up, stood, and moved back by her father’s side.

Ian draped an arm over his daughter’s shoulder. “I can see I’ve missed a lot over the years.”

They moved toward the path and Fran peeked over her shoulder where Ret now stood using his sling to shoot rocks onto the water. To Fran’s amazement, the rocks skipped across the surface before sinking. Ret turned and gave her a wave.

Face burning, she turned away, and a moment later, Fran and her father were hidden in the woods.

“Really, Dad?”

“I have no doubt you are fully capable of taking care of yourself,” he said. “However, Sarah Frances, before you spread your wings outside, you need to understand the rules and the dangers.”

“Rules?”

“Of course, rules.” Ian said angrily. “Did you think we lived in a state of chaos out here?”

She really hadn’t given it much thought. After all, up until last week, she didn’t even know that
out here
existed.

Ian held Fran at arm’s length and when she finally got the nerve to look into his brown eyes, her father’s expression softened.  “I know you’ve had a mind-blowing week,” he said. “And you have no idea how ecstatic your mother and I are to have you out of that place. Maybe this meeting will give you a better understanding.”

“Meeting?”

“Ben called it. He thinks you’re ready to know the truth.” At this, Ian turned and continued along the trail.

“Wait. Haven’t I already learned the truth? What more
truth
is there?”

Without another word, Dad led Fran along the same path she’d walked earlier. Her legs moved with a stiff, mechanical reluctance as she conjured up reasons for a mysterious gathering. She thought about the Council, and how they held the residents of the city in submission. What if this place was no different? And what about the lives of the Rebels lost due to her mega failures? She deserved to be punished, right? Thoughts of Folsom and Derrick’s horrific electrocution screamed “guilty!” and she followed her father, lost in a world of shame.

When they reached the cottage, Mom didn’t seem angry at all. She smiled at Fran and said, “Welcome back, my little adventurer.”

Fran rolled her eyes and looked at Dad. He just shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

“Sit down, Sarah Frances,” her mother said. Her gentleness made Fran’s nerves pull tighter, but she sat at the table where mugs and linens had been arranged for a larger group.

“Who else are you expecting?”

“Just Ben and Ema,” Ruth replied. She set a pot of hot water on the table.

Fran drummed the toe of her bootie onto the wooden floor waiting for the rest of the meeting to arrive. “Dr. Benjamin Leibin,” she muttered, and looked up to her mother.

“Mom, am I in trouble or something?”

Ruth placed a hand on Fran’s back and rubbed soothing circles.

“Hardly, sweetheart. We just need to navigate some otherwise tricky territory.”

“I feel like I’m on trial by the new Open-Air Council,” Fran said louder than she intended. Her mother’s hand stopped mid-air, and her father whipped his head around. They both wore weighty expressions. The silence lingered, and Fran felt heat rise to her face.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” Her voice sounded like a child to her own ears, which made her cheeks feel even hotter. Dad looked like he was about to say something, but then a light tap on the door frame announced visitors. Ema’s cheery voice called through the door.

Dad opened the door, and Ema entered, followed close behind by Ben. Or Doc, as Fran called him.

“I’ve come bearing gifts,” Ema said. She placed a potted plant on the table and smiled as she stroked the petals of a white flower blooming in its center. Ben shook hands with Fran’s father.

“Isn’t she lovely?” Ema asked. “First bloom of the season.”

Mom put a hand to her mouth.
“Curcuma Longa?”

“Yes. Nature’s gift of healing. My gift to you.” She winked at Fran. “Reminded me of our little Wolf. Newly budding and full of potential.”

Fran gazed at the foreboding face of the wolf tattooed on the back of her hand. Not a cute little cartoon character, but a wild and ferocious beast. Back in the city, she’d been a cagey lone wolf, not a whimpering baby cub as Ema’s comment seemed to imply. Apparently she couldn’t see the danger lurking beneath her skin.

“Have a seat, Ema, Ben,” Mom said, while pointing to the square table in the center of the room. A pair of wooden chairs sat on either side of the thick wooden table. Ema sat with a straight back, hands resting on her lap, and Doc slid in next to his longtime wife. Mom poured tea for the guests and Dad sat down next to Fran. As they contemplated and collected their thoughts, an uncomfortable silence grew.

A gusty breeze clattered through the open shutters.

Fran’s belly growled.

She sipped her tea and avoided eye contact.

Finally, after Mom pulled up a stool from the far side of the room and joined them, Doc cleared his throat and pulled out a satchel of water. He took a swig and pushed it across the table to Fran.

“Have some.”

“Oh, no thanks, Doc. I’m fine.” Fran pointed to her steamy mug.

“Please. Take a sip,” he said.

An odd request from an odd man
. Surely, she could trust him. He was smart. No, not just smart. He was the
smartest
. And, sure, his odd stateliness sometimes intimidated Fran, but he had a pure heart. Fran shrugged and lifted the satchel to her lips. She was still not a huge fan of the earthy flavor of unprocessed water, but the cold trail down her throat did cool her off a bit.

“Thanks.” She slid the vessel back to Doc.

With an expression like a professor in lecture-mode, Doc began with a question. “What did you just drink?”

“Um,
water
?”

“Anything else?”

Fran resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You tell me.”

The corner of Doc’s mouth twitched, and Fran experienced another round of prickly irritation.

“I’m not trying to mess with you,” he said. “And yes, you drank water. But I was wondering, did you taste the living microorganisms that just entered your body?”

Fran sucked in her breath, but Doc waved her off. “Nothing harmful. Just the normal stuff that lives in our liquid. A bit of bacteria, a fragment of fungus,” he smiled. “Nature’s nuggets.”

Fran put a hand to her mouth.
Revolting
.

Ema elbowed her husband, and he clarified. “It’s not very odd, actually. Within our bodies lives an ecosystem that’s pretty mind boggling. Right now, you house about 90 billion invisible organisms.”

“That’s disgusting.” Fran responded deadpan.

“Nope. It’s just nature maintaining a natural balance of life. A perfect system.”

“Here’s the thing, though, Fran.” Doc lowered his voice and leaned forward. “With the help of some brilliant biologists and physicists, the Council found a way to corrupt the organic character of water.”

No surprises there. The ruling party inside the city of Impervious had been well known for putting their dirty little fingers into everything else. Plus she’d already learned of the toxic water when she’d read Doc’s diary―the one Chan had bequeathed to her when he was released.

“Unlike the water we have out here, the water you drank not so long ago in the city―” Doc waved his hand around the room, “water we
all
drank for that matter—contained
man-made
microorganisms.” Doc cleared his throat and stopped as if trying to find the right words for his explanation.

“Have you heard of Nanobots, Fran?”

Fran’s brows shot up. “Like robots, you mean?”

“Sort of. Microscopic robots.”

“Cool.” Fran nodded her head. “Sounds interesting.”  She lifted her mug and sipped her tea.

“Under the right conditions, yes. However, these invisible robots have actually been added to the entire Impervious water system.”

He let out a sigh and shook his head. “They are ingested on a daily basis by everyone in the city. Once absorbed into their host, they bind with DNA and act as trackers and identification markers.”

Fran’s eyes grew wider. She placed her mug back on the table. “What exactly are you saying, Doc?”

“I’m saying that a person’s status is a moot point. Whether Accountable to the Council, or off-the-grid as a Rebel, security is able to identify each and every living, breathing creature within the city.”

Fran felt a rising of her old panic mixed with a blur of confusion. “That doesn’t make sense. What about the iris scans and RITs? I thought that’s how they kept us Accountable.”

The silence in the room compounded her growing fear. “Right?” Her voice came out a raspy whisper, and Fran licked her lips.

Doc shook his head. “Those methods were simply for show.”

Fran pushed back from the table. “And so, I’m … I mean we
all
…?”

The room began to spin. She couldn’t seem to communicate the right response. But Doc put her fear into words. “I’m sorry, my dear. You’re still on the grid.”

Chapter 6

FRAN

Fran’s throat clogged with fear but somehow she managed to squeak out, “Can they see me now?”

Doc blew out a weighty breath and nodded his head. “Yes. I’m afraid you’re loaded with Nanobots—circulating your bloodstream—fully functional.”

Fran jumped up and her chair toppled backwards. Her breath came out ragged as her emotions tangled in a mix of fear and anger. “They don’t own me!” She looked from her mother to her father. “Or you either.”  She waved a hand around. “They don’t own any of us. We’re not part of Marcus’s make-believe world anymore.”

Fran kicked at the chair. “He can’t hold onto us forever.” A picture of Sasha’s convulsing body splayed out in the Agora during the Forfeiture Procession ripped through her brain, and Fran felt a growl roll up her throat.

Four solemn expressions remained fixed on Fran as she ranted.
Why are they just sitting there? Are they playing some sort of joke?
Her eyes darted to each face hoping to see a smirk or chuckle. Maybe then they could get back to some real business, like planning Pete’s and Ted’s and everyone else’s escape. But it didn’t come. And the longer the silence prevailed, the more anger and fear squeezed at her soul.

Finally, she slammed her fist onto the table. “What’s wrong with you guys?” She held onto the edge to steady herself while the room continued to whir around her. “And why didn’t you mention any of this in your diary, Doc?”

“I could only reveal pieces, Wolf. I knew if anyone had eyes to see, they would see.” He smiled. “Like you did.”

Ema chimed in. “You see, dear, when a resident is released from Impervious with the decline, we introduce their detoxification. Although we’re never completely free of the Council’s virus, the process renders the Nanobots dormant.”

She walked around the table and stood just a few inches from Fran. Cool hands touched Fran’s burning cheeks, and the chill generated an odd, calming effect. “We can begin the process for you today. You’re strong and healthy, you’ll be back up and running in just a few days.”

Mom righted the toppled chair and eased Fran back into the seat. “We wanted to allow you an opportunity to acclimate to the earth. The detox can be pretty rough. But now that you’re wanting to roam …”

“Wait, rough? How?” Fran interrupted.

“Fair question.” Doc agreed. “We’ve discovered most of the bots hide out in the liver and kidneys as well as the spinal fluid. In order to pull their charge, we put the body through a rigorous cleansing with a combination of potent herbs fashioned by Ema.”

To Fran it sounded like an untried witch’s brew and she inched her chair away from the table.

“You need to understand, Wolf. This isn’t some sort of experimental treatment. Ema and her team have worked diligently in the lab perfecting the formula.”

“Lab?” Fran whispered.

“Yes.” Ema chimed in.“We set up shop years ago, when more scientists began to join us out here.”

“It’s really not so horrible, dear. And Ema will keep you mildly sedated during the detox,” Mom added while rubbing her comforting circles on Fran’s back.

Fran’s breathing began to slow. Maybe it was the new revelation, or maybe it was the effect of being comforted by Mom’s touch. Either way, Fran suddenly felt small, like a child.

“Are they going to come for me, Mom?” Fran wished for her old canvas blanket to rub between her fingers. She could almost feel the comforting soft edges. Right now it was probably still in her little home-away-from-home in the city’s ventilation system.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Doc. “Frankly, dear, I think they’re happy to be rid of you. Nosey Rebels are a thorn in their side. I’m sure they assumed you just wandered off to die anyway.” He stood and began to pace the floor. “You see, since the detox arrests the tracking signal, when our beacons fade out we believe the Council takes that as an indication that we’ve passed.” He shook his head. “If only Marcus knew what we’ve built out here …”

As he spoke, a glimmer of hope began to ignite within Fran. Her pulse slowed as she began to formulate a new plan. A plan that involved her old mentor. Between the two of them, they would set things right. Once she did this detox. Once her Nanobots were down for the count, she and Chan could go back in.

Fran lifted her chin and turned to Ema. “I’m ready.”

Ema nodded and stood. “Well, then, shall we head to the healing cottage?” She moved to the doorway and paused for Fran.

“I’ll be along shortly,” Mom added, and gave Fran an encouraging smile. Just enough to get Fran’s feet moving.

As Fran and Ema strolled through the center of the village, life moved about with afternoon activity. At one end of camp, the fire crew split an endless supply of logs creating an almost musical chorus with rhythmic thwacks and thuds. Edam, head of the crew, waved to Fran as she passed. Nearer to Fran and just a few steps away from the cooking hearth, a dozen or so villagers scurried about the food prep pavilion. As they readied fish and vegetables for the evening meal, a heady mix of chives and garlic wafted through the air. Fran’s stomach growled again, and she considered postponing the treatment until after the community dinner.

As if Ema could read her mind, or maybe because of the obvious stomach roar, she turned to Fran. “An empty stomach really is a better fit for detox.”

Fran nodded and a moment later, they reached the cottage where Chan, Marie, and a host of ex-residents from the city slept soundly. They seemed to be in various stages of healing, and on the third bed, the very top of a shaved head peeked out from below the blanket. Fran realized it to be the latest resident to be released from the city. Although not one of the four Team-Fran members, this resident’s demise had allowed for her final escape a few days prior. Fran felt a moment of gratitude and touched the shoulder of the new release as she walked past.

Ema moved to a low counter and pulled mounds of dried leaves from covered baskets. As she ground them in a small bowl, a bitter essence filled the air, reminding Fran that like the others in this room, she would soon be a sleeping, sickly bundle. Sweat prickled along the back of her neck, and she swallowed hard to rid the lump forming in her throat. She’d always been healthy by Impervious standards and before today, never thought much about being sick enough to need constant care.

“Go ahead and get comfortable in one of the beds. It will only take me a few more moments to ready your first treatment.”

Although she would have liked to be next to Chan, other than a lone bed towards the back of the room, it appeared that each of the beds already housed a patient.

“Ema, why are so many residents here?”

“Hmm?” Ema turned from the counter and brushed Fran with an inquisitive glance. “Oh, no, dear one. These aren’t all declined residents. Some are here because of other illnesses.”  She indicated a sleeping bundle a few beds away from Chan. “Cora, for instance, came down with lethargy and a high fever after the mosquitoes feasted on her blood by the river.”

Ema turned back to the counter and Fran noted her shoulders lift and dip as she worked the mortar and pestle. “You do know about protecting your skin with lemongrass oil, yes?” she added.

Fran peeked at her bite from earlier while nodding a silent response.
T
he herb-scented air made her nauseous, and Fran shuddered as she took a tentative seat on the edge of her bed. She fought a wave of panic by untying her soft moccasins. Then she pulled back the tucked linens and slipped beneath, not expecting such soft coolness. She snuggled in, stared at the thatched ceiling, and thought about her blanket back in the tunnel. Had someone else taken it? Was there anyone left?

Pete.

She closed her eyes.

A moment later Ema approached carrying what smelled like something from the Agora waste receptacle.

“Take small sips,” Ema said. “It’s potent.”

It tasted every bit as unpleasant as the odor implied, and Fran gagged with each swallow. When she’d finished the last of it, she lay back on her pillow, wondering how long it would take.

Within minutes her head felt big and heavy. An unrelenting, weighty sleep pulled at her lids, even though she tried to open her eyes. She heard her mother’s voice, though it seemed to be a great distance away. “It will be okay, Sarah Frances, I’m right here with you.”

As she slipped from consciousness, her mother’s whispers of encouragement helped Fran experience a sense of peace, and she was soon carried away on a cloud of sleep.