Violet (15 page)

Arielle wordlessly leads David and me through
several more stone chambers until we reach one without another
doorway on the other side. “You two can stay here tonight. The
bathroom is right next door. I’m the first door on the other side
of the bathroom if you need me.” And then she is gone.

There is only one bed in this room, but I guess
beggars can’t be choosers. Besides, we’d slept on a wooden floor
together; we’d slept in a moldy pile of bed sheets together. I’m
too tired to think about what this means and whether or not David
is okay with it.

I climb into the bed. It feels like heaven to be
sleeping in a real bed again, even if it is a little musty. When
David climbs in, he snuggles up close and puts his arms around me.
He leans down and kisses me on the back of the neck. I guess he’s
okay with it. I am just on the edge of sleep when I feel David’s
body jolt. Suddenly I am not sleepy anymore.

I hear a scuffle. I hear what sounds like a fist
connecting with flesh. I hear the sounds of a man who’s just been
hit. By the time I can figure out what’s going on, I hear David’s
voice. At least he’s all right, but I’m disturbed when I hear
someone else’s labored breathing. There is another man in this
room. David is breathing heavily when he says, “Violet. Light the
lamp.” I swing my feet over the side of the bed and rush across the
room to the lamp. I turn the dial and light it. When the flame has
caught, I pick up the lamp and walk toward the direction of the
breathing.

In the faint glow of the single flame, I see
that David has a man pinned up against the stone wall in our
chamber. As I get closer, I see that the man is Ezra. Blood is
flowing freely from what is probably a broken nose. David’s hand is
around Ezra’s throat and his fist is raised, ready to hit him again
if need be.

Ezra is the first to speak. He’s holding up his
hands as if to say that he is unarmed. “I’m sorry that I scared
you; I didn’t want to wake anyone else on the hall.”

David pulls his fist back sharply and Ezra
flinches. “What do you want?” he demands.

“There’s something that you need to see.”

Now Ezra holds the lamp as he leads the way down
the dark hall. David is in front of me, ready to strike if the
necessity presents itself. We are not entirely sure where we are
going, and we are not entirely sure that Ezra is to be trusted.

When we reach the end of the hall, instead of
turning left and entering the common room, Ezra turns to the right
to face the stone wall. He reaches up and unscrews the bottom of
the lamp that is attached to the wall above his head. This is a
hidden key. The bottom of the lamp is embossed with the symbol, and
Ezra presses it into an indentation in the stone. Immediately, a
section of the wall recedes. Then, this section slides to the right
behind the rest of the wall, revealing another hallway. We follow
Ezra inside.

“What is this place?” David asks suspiciously.
It is obvious that this hallway is not commonly traveled by many;
webs hang between the unlit wall lamps and the stone, and a layer
of dust coats everything.

Ezra turns around and places his index finger to
his lips, motioning for us to be silent. Then, he sets the lamp
down on the stone floor, using the key to reseal the door behind
us. Any other time, I might be alarmed about the fact that Ezra, a
man who snuck into our room in the dark while we were sleeping,
holds the only key that can open the door to the main hallway.
However, my attention is somewhere else—the lamp that Ezra placed
on the floor is lighting our section of the hallway, and I cannot
help but notice that there is another set of footprints in the
dust.

I want to ask Ezra who lives down here, but I am
afraid of betraying our position in what is most certainly a
forbidden area. Ezra wants to show me something. I remember the
conversation that I overheard between Ezra and Eli.
It’s not his
right to keep it from her…

What is he keeping down here?

Ezra stands up and we continue moving down the
hallway. After about twenty feet, he turns and leads us into a
chamber. This chamber, like everything else that we’ve seen down
here, is made of stone. A lab coat hangs on a hook beside a
metallic door. Ezra lifts a small slab of stone hinged to the rest
of the wall, uncovering a hidden panel. He flips a large switch,
turns it halfway, then presses the switch back into place. The
metallic door slides open to reveal a stark white room.

The room has the antiseptic feel of a hospital
room. A sink, a mirror, a desk and chair all occupy the space
immediately to our left as we enter. In the center of the room, a
dividing curtain hangs. It has been drawn halfway, so that one
quarter of the room is hidden from our view. My pulse quickens as
Ezra steps toward the curtain.

Despite my anticipation of this moment, I find
myself dreading it. Maybe I’m not ready to see whatever it is.
“Ezra…”

He continues moving toward the curtain. He lifts
his hand to grasp the edge of it. “Try not to scream.”

Ezra begins to draw the curtain aside. I feel
lightheaded; it’s as if everything is happening in slow motion. I
see the end of a bed. Then, I see the lumps made by the feet of
someone lying under the blanket. Knees, thighs, torso, and finally,
a face. My blood runs cold when I see the face. Creamy skin, dark
hair, heavy lashes. It’s me.

No. No, this cannot be me. What then? A twin? A
sister that I never knew? Some kind of clone? Suddenly, I feel
dizzy. I take a step back and reach out to steady myself on a cart
used for storing medical instruments; the cart is on wheels and it
begins to roll away. As I fall, I knock the tray full of surgical
tools onto the floor. The last thing I am aware of as I close my
eyes is David catching me before I hit the floor. David laying my
head in his lap. David’s voice. “Violet…”

* * *

I am walking the hallways of my father’s lab.
Not the lab he works in for The Vox, but his private lab named
after my mother. I’m here to surprise him. Today is the anniversary
of his first rotation. He does not like to do much celebrating.
Even when my mother was still here, we had to force him just to
acknowledge the milestone.

Well, today is going to be different. I’ve got a
very special gift that I cannot wait to give him; I know that it
will suit his tastes perfectly. I actually think I might be more
excited about his anniversary than he is.

I draw the gold pocket watch from my coat pocket
to look at it again. Perfectly crafted. I found it in a shop that
specializes in antique look-alikes. My father loves these remnants
of another time. Most people today use holograms or at least
digital dials to keep track of the time, but I’ve seen my father
admiring watches like these. I even found an old picture of my
mother from when they were young and put it inside the front cover
of the watch. It will probably make him sad at first, but I hope it
will make him feel like she’s close. I close the cover and place
the watch back in my pocket.

I leap around the corner and through the door to
my father’s personal office in the hopes of surprising him at his
desk. Arms spread, I jump in and yell, “Plentiful Rotations!” It
takes me a moment to realize that he’s not in here. Oh, well. I’ll
wait for him to return. He should be preparing to leave for the day
anyway.

Even though today is special, I don’t want to
rush him out. He doesn’t get to work here at his personal lab much
anymore. Until recently, senior scientists in the Claro like my
father were allowed to have personal lab space and side projects,
as long as it didn’t interfere with their work for The Vox, and as
long as any significant findings were given to The Alter in case
they should be kept classified. However, all of that changed a few
weeks ago when one of the other scientists disappeared with some
extremely valuable technology. Nothing like this has ever happened
before, so the entire headquarters is in a bit of an uproar. That’s
why I especially want my father to have an evening to relax.

In an effort to put him in good spirits after a
hectic day, I decide to sit behind his desk so he’ll be amused when
he finds me. I take a seat in his chair and hold up a copy of a
news scan and pretend to read. No, I have a better idea. I lean
back in the chair and prop my feet up on his desk, crossing my
ankles. I see some dirt fall off of my shoe and think better of it;
I don’t want to mess up any important documents. I pull my feet
down from the desk and a stack of paper comes with them.
Oh,
great.
I get down on the floor and scramble to gather the
papers before my father comes in. I scoot under his desk to
retrieve the last sheet; it has become caught on the corner of an
uneven tile.

I shift my weight to free the sheet of paper,
and the uneven tile wobbles. I press the corner of the tile, and I
realize that it is not attached to the floor. Again, I press down
on the corner, but I hold it down and lift the tile from the raised
corner on the opposite side. There is a hollow space here. I stick
my hand into the space and draw out an object that has been wrapped
in a soft animal-skin cloth. I replace the tile and scoot back out
from under the desk, again taking a seat in my father’s chair.

I know that I shouldn’t be meddling; anything
that my father has hidden has been hidden for a purpose, but for
some reason I just can’t curb my curiosity. I look up at the door.
I strain to hear footsteps in the hallway. No, I don’t think
anyone’s approaching. Slowly, carefully, I begin to unwrap the
object. I unfold the animal skin until it’s lying flat in my palm.
The object is… Well, I’m not sure what it is. Bluish-grey. The
color calls to mind the sky just before a storm begins. It’s smooth
on one side but the other sides are rough. It seems to be a rock
that’s been broken from a larger rock. I lay the skin and the rock
down on my father’s desk. I can’t stop looking at this stone. What
is it? It must be something important if my father thought he had
to hide it.

I hesitate for a moment, and then I pick it up.
Immediately, my mind is accosted with images. Flashes of things
I’ve never seen before, places I’ve never been. Then, I see my
father in his lab at Vox headquarters. He’s pointing a weapon at
his friend, a fellow scientist. The other scientist holds a clear
case that houses the stone. My father speaks, “You can’t take that…
I can’t let you go.”

The other scientist clutches the case to his
chest. “You’ll have to kill me.”

My father raises his hand and aims the weapon at
the other man’s head. He places his finger on the trigger. Sweat is
running down his face; his expression twists in agony. The hand
that holds the weapon trembles. Again, my father pleads with his
friend. “Please… Please don’t make me.”

The scientist shakes his head and responds, “I
just don’t have a choice.”

My father fires, and just barely misses. A gash
opens on the cheek of the other scientist and blood begins to flow
down his face. My father looks down at the weapon in his hand; the
other scientist disappears into the darkness.

“Violet. Violet, no!”

I am in my father’s office. I am sitting in my
father’s chair. My father stands in the doorway. I look away from
him and back to the stone in my hand. “Father… What is this?”

He begins to run toward me, but he does not
reach me before the building explodes.

* * *

“What’s going on here?” A familiar voice rouses
me from my momentary unconsciousness. Where have I heard that voice
before?
You’ll have to kill me…
The Scientist. I open my
eyes.

A man about my father’s age has entered the
white room. He is at least a foot taller than my father was, and
much more slender. His slight frame does not make him weak,
however. This becomes clear as he grabs Ezra by the shirt collar
and throws him to the floor. Ezra does not try to get up; fear is
apparent in his eyes, but he does not try to escape.

The Scientist towers above him. “Do you have any
idea what you’ve done?” His anger has caused the blood to rush to
his face, creating a stark contrast with the white scar that
extends from his cheek to his ear. Was this scar caused by my
father’s weapon?

The fear on Ezra’s face changes to defiance.
“You have to tell her! It’s not your right to keep it from her! She
has to know!”

The Scientist raises his hand to hit Ezra, but
his aggression leaves him and he allows the hand to drop to his
side. When he speaks, his words drip with disdain. “Get out of my
lab. Get out of my sight. Don’t even think about coming back around
here until you’ve learned your place.” Ezra leaves.

The Scientist stands there for a few more
moments. He looks down at the floor. My eyes travel back to the
center of the room. Back to the girl lying in that bed. The girl
that looks just a little too much like me. I cannot wrench my eyes
from her face.
My
face.

Apparently noticing where my attention is
focused, The Scientist crosses the room and draws the curtain back
to its original position, removing the girl from our sight. I look
at his face. He looks pained. He looks tired. He looks much older
than my father had; no doubt his face was worn with more rotations
of anguish than my father had suffered. My father may have had much
to suffer for, but at least he spent his last days in the beauty of
Eligo… This man had to live in an underground cavern beneath a
collapsed building.

The Scientist is the first to speak. “Violet.
And…” He looks at David.

David stands up and helps me to my feet. He
extends his hand to shake with The Scientist. “David.”

The Scientist shakes David’s hand and motions to
some chairs near his desk. “Please, have a seat. We have much to
discuss.” His eyes dart toward the curtain, and then back at me.
“Violet. I knew you’d come sooner or later. Where is your
father?”