Level 2 (Memory Chronicles) (27 page)

After two heartbeats the
pain is gone. Hard surfaces press into me from all sides, like a coffin. This is my new reality, and none of what I’ve experienced has been just a nightmare. Though that day in Nairobi is long past, I really am trapped in the Morati’s palace, a pawn in their terrible plan.

Memories stream through me, and whether it’s in the blink of an eye or in the passage of several millennia, I experience the lifetimes of millions. First steps, first kisses. Last days of school, last rites. The pure concentrated energy of these individual moments flows through my veins.

Sometimes a memory of a girl named Felicia will push through, imprint itself into my consciousness, and I’ll think
That’s me! I’m her!
But am I still me if only my shadow self remains, even if everything I am is eclipsed by the demands of the Morati, my new hosts?

Connected as I am to them, I feel the Morati’s hubris. I can sense their movements, their gathering of an army of humans infected with the rage virus. The scanner drones relay positions of the enemy, and alarms blare as the rebels ambush the palace, trying to draw the Morati out. Through it all, the Morati’s inner guard watches over me, and I have a front-row seat to the action, viewing it through their eyes.

I see Mira and Eli leading a charge of several thousand rebel troops against the Morati palace. The rebels are scarily efficient in dispatching the infected human army that makes up the front lines. These conscripts fall, and then fade away. The rebels’ human recruits also disappear shortly after being cut down. One I recognize as Virginia. She fights valiantly, flipping and kicking like a ninja cheerleader, but a Morati arrow pierces her heart. I feel her energy as it swirls through the palace, heading off to begin her afterlife journey anew, to be resorted. She will forget all this, and forget me yet again. Nevertheless, she is still a friend.

After a few days, when the infected human army is annihilated, the rebels set their sights on the Morati. They don’t generally shoot to kill, only to incapacitate. Eli shouts orders, and fallen Morati are bound and dragged away. But sometimes one of my Morati brethren is ripped away from the confines of this dimension, and I experience it as keenly as an amputation.

The battle rages on. Losses are high on both sides, but the Morati’s inner guard stays put. They stick so close to me that their pollution coats my skin like a thick sheen of sweat.

Until one day a horn blasts, thundering through the palace. The Morati guards flow away from me like a retreating tide. My physical body has been left alone. My eyes see only what the Morati see: vicious fighting, the severing of wings. My ears are attuned to the deep silence of the hall. I call out, “I’m still here!” But no one answers.

Until someone does. “I am too,” says a voice, reaching
for the shell of the girl who was. “I’m here to save you.” He pulls at my hands, trying to disconnect them from their grooves in the Morati’s mainframe, but they won’t budge.

“It’s too late,” I say. “I know what you are. What you’ve done. How you gave me to the Morati.”

“That wasn’t me. You have to believe me,” he says, his voice rising.

I don’t answer. There is nothing to say.

“Yes, I was supposed to kill you that day in the police car,” he admits, “but I didn’t do it. I couldn’t have—you know that. Because if I did, you would’ve skipped this level.”

“You’re the one who told me that. Likely another lie.”

“I couldn’t have killed you.” He pauses then, as if he’s taking a deep breath. “Because I love you.”

“Prove it,” I say. I know he can’t. He doesn’t even know what love really is.

“They took everything from me. They took away my chance to live on Earth. They took you. I was so happy to find you again here in Level Two . . . I would never turn you over to them.”

“That’s not proof.”

“I can prove my intentions,” he says.

I wait. Julian retreats. Time passes. I don’t know how much, but the Morati guard does not return. They’re still busy with their fight.

“I’m here. And I’ve brought him with me,” says Julian.

“Who?”

“Neil.”

At the mention of Neil I feel the essence of the girl who was once Felicia and how she yearns to break free. Perhaps she and I may rejoin after all.

“Felicia! It’s really you!” The voice is pure love, adoration, gratitude. Pure Neil. He traces his fingers down the cheek of the body that stands before him. He peers into eyes that can’t see him, because they’re watching the Morati gain the upper hand again. Mira and Eli and the rest of the rebels are falling back, slumped over with exhaustion, their clothes in tatters.

I pull my attention away from the rebels’ imminent defeat. I want to concentrate on Neil now, while I still can.

“How did you die?” I ask Neil. I feel a sob build within Felicia. She hates that his life was cut short, but she loves that he’s so close, after all this time spent missing him.

He sounds shocked. “You don’t know? I died with you.”

So Julian lied about that, too.

“That doesn’t matter now,” Julian breaks in. “What matters is that there’s a whole army out there fighting the Morati. We can beat them back, but only you can end this. Can’t you see that everything you’ve been through, all your training, has been leading up to this moment? This choice? You have the chance to fight the Morati from the inside. Don’t you see how big this is?”

“Don’t you know you’ve already lost?” I ask.

“Felicia!” says Neil desperately. “Look at me!”

“I can’t. I can’t see you.”

“Don’t look with your eyes. Look with your soul,” he
says. His voice is so near that when lips touch mine, I know they’re Neil’s.

The tingling sensation his kiss leaves and the confidence in his voice push me to pull together the little strength I have left. I reach deep into my shell. I struggle to set myself free. Finally I surge through veins clogged with the detritus of other souls, burst out, and reclaim my body.

Then I’m able to gaze upon the boy before me. The boy who never doubted me, even when I doubted myself. The way he’s looking at me tells me he doesn’t doubt me now. I smile at him, a single tear running down my cheek. “Thank you, Neil. Thank you for showing me what real love is.”

As I take in the faces of Neil and Julian behind him, it becomes clear to me what I need to do. What my role is. The Morati stuck me in this machine because I’m a piece of their plan to break into heaven. But I don’t have to let them use me. By sacrificing myself, I can take down the whole system, saving Neil and saving everyone else. At least I got to see Neil one last time.

Closing my eyes, I call up every shred of power I have within me. I must become part of the system in order to bring it down. What starts out as a low hum gets louder and louder until my body is shaking with energy as loud as a roar. My skin expands, begins to connect with the metal around it.

“Noooooooooo!”

I hear Julian’s agonized scream at the same time I am
torn from the mainframe and thrown across the room. I force open my eyes, gritting my teeth through the pain, to see that Julian has taken my place. Because of our connection when I crossed over that day in Nairobi, I realize his energy is the only acceptable substitute for mine, and he must have known that too. As Julian’s body fuses with the system, he looks directly at me. Light streams out of his every pore, but his intense gaze does not waver.

A powerful quake rocks the palace, and Neil is beside me, looking for a place to hold my body that is not ripped raw or cut. “We have to go!” he shouts into my ear, scooping me up into his arms. But I keep my eyes riveted on Julian, dazed by his sacrifice. Why did he do it?

A flash of light, more powerful than an atom bomb, blinds me, knocks us to the ground. For a long moment there is only white. And then it’s over. Julian is gone. The palace is gone.

Neil and I are lying under a blue sky in a vast field of green grass, surrounded by wildflowers. There is not a single hive or sterile white surface to be seen.

He props himself up on his arm and surveys my body from head to toe. “Your injuries . . . they’re gone,” he says with wonder. “Am I dreaming? This all seems so surreal.”

I laugh, pinching my skin, as fresh and pink as a baby’s, and I smooth the folds of my yellow sundress. “It’s real. We made it real.”

And then he smiles the luminous and pure smile I’ve been waiting my whole death to see again. He fans my hair
out around my shoulders, and I reach up and undo the top button of his blue-and-white-checked shirt. He presses against me, and when our lips meet, all the pent-up feelings inside me—the uncertainty, the longing, the joy, the sorrow—explode in my chest. Immersed in our kiss, we roll over until I am on top of him.

Neil breaks away first. “Uh . . . there’s someone staring at us.” I roll off him and look up. Mira. Glowing with a radiant inner light.

“You must be Neil!” She extends her hand to Neil, and when he shakes it, she pulls him up.

He looks at her in a daze. “Are you an angel?” I scramble up and stand beside him, now wondering the same thing.

“Why, yes. I am.” She trills her bell-like laugh. She traces a circle above her head, and a halo appears. “Does this make it easier for you to tell?”

“And Eli?” I ask, flabbergasted. “Is he an angel too?”

“The head of the rebellion?” She smirks at me indulgently, shaking her head slightly. “Of course he is. Right now he’s rounding up the rest of the Morati and locking them away until Judgment Day. We think God will be pleased. You’ll put in a good word for us, won’t you?”

“Maybe you could clear something up for me,” I say. If I ever expect to get any answers, now is probably the best time to ask. “Do you know why Julian took my place? And if his energy was a substitute for mine, why didn’t he sacrifice himself from the beginning? Why drag me into it?”

“Julian did try once to take down the system on his
own. He was angry that they broke their promise to him that he could stay on Earth. He wanted revenge. But the mainframe was molded for you. When your energy and the Morati’s intermingled during the fissure, it opened a channel to your world and your technology—it was their access to your consciousness that allowed the Morati to create the mainframe at all. And that fusion was what made you so special here—such an active subject who could adapt relatively easily without the net. That was the reason we needed you just as badly. You were always the one who would have to start the process, either for the Morati or against them.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe he sacrificed himself because he was looking for redemption. Or maybe he had nothing left to lose.”

“So that’s it—he’s gone?” Pressure builds in my chest when I think about how they had all known all along what I meant to the system. How they manipulated and used me. How Julian played me for a fool, over and over again.

Mira laughs again. “Not gone, my dear. His energy had to go somewhere. Question is, was he deemed worthy enough to ascend to the next level? I don’t think you’ve seen the last of Julian.”

I shudder. Because she’s right—if anyone can find his way to me, it’s Julian.

“But why did you pretend to be human recruits of the rebellion?” I ask. “Why couldn’t you come out and tell me that you were angels?”

“That was all Julian’s idea. He didn’t want questions
hanging in the air that would be inconvenient for him to answer. And we agreed that it would be easier to get you to cooperate if you thought we were like you.”

It does sound exactly like Julian, so I don’t doubt for a second that he was behind it all.

“So what now?” I ask.

“Now the feast of saints can begin anew.” She turns Neil and me so we are facing each other. “Here. Let me show you something.” She lifts our hands and presses our palms together. Skin on skin, they become a conduit, sucking us both into our memories.

I see flashes of both our lives—together and apart. The two of us walking down the street, tucked into each other, in our own little world. Neil laughing with Andy as they throw firecrackers from atop a roof. Me, arms outstretched to the jungle canopy as I conquered the main temple of Tikal. Neil holding me tight in the wreck of his car until his life ebbed away.

Mira slides her hand between our palms to break us apart, and the memories stop.

“This was always how it was supposed to be,” Mira says, and Neil and I stare at her, openmouthed. “Everyone sharing their memories, helping one another come to terms with them so they could move on. Maybe it’s time for you to move on too.” She pats me on the shoulder and glides away.

Since I didn’t move on automatically when I faced the memory of my death, I must have some say in when I move
on. How can she possibly think I’d want to now? I turn to Neil. “We’re free.”

Neil puts his arm around my waist, pulls me close. “It’s unbelievable. All this. I feel like we’ve been given a second chance.”

“Speaking of second chances, there’s a particular memory of yours I’d like to access, if you’ll let me.” I look up at his face, taking in all his features. Committing them to memory.

“Really?” His eyes light up. “Which one?”

I want to be able to show him how much he means to me, how invested I am in him and his life. I long to feel him so deeply that he’ll never be erased from my mind. No matter what. “I’m sorry I missed your performance in
Our Town
. I’d love to experience it through your eyes.”

“Of course.” Neil lifts his palm toward mine. When our skin connects, there’s a hum of electricity, and a rush of images fills my mind. The transfer is nearly instantaneous, but I feel Neil’s every bead of sweat that evening, how the bright stage lights cut him off from the audience, how he uttered every line as though he were really living the play.

We drop our hands to our sides.

“‘When you’ve been here longer, you’ll see that our life here is to forget all that . . . and be ready for what’s ahead,’”
I quote from the play. “Can we really just forget our lives? Do we need to?” It seems impossible to me that I could one day want to let go.

“Whatever happens, we have each other.” Neil hugs me, and I lay my head on his shoulder.