Fractured: Book Three of The Illusion of Truth, page 1
Jenetta Penner
Fractured
Book Three of the Illusion of Truth
First published by Torment Publishing 2021
Copyright © 2021 by Jenetta Penner
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Chapter 1
I’m a traitor.
Me. Too-Good Tenly. The rule-follower.
There’s no way around it.
Turncoat. Betrayer. Rat. Snake.
Criminal.
And if I’m found out, the Scarlets will kill me.
No hesitation. Not that much justification is needed to kill a Cobalt . . . even one in the Premier Workforce.
Well, they’d likely torture me first. And I’d probably give up everything, everyone . . . Papa, Mr. Robinson, Isaiah . . . Kalib. But the Scarlets already know about Kalib’s involvement in the Alliance. That’s why he was arrested.
Sighing, I nervously brush my loose, dark curls off my forehead as I perch on the edge of my bed, still in my night clothes.
I wouldn’t squeal because I wanted to, but torture? I’m not sure I’m that strong . . . even if being a part of the Alliance and freeing Cobalts from the squalor of the Tenement is the right thing to do. It’s not as if I’ve been trained to withstand torture.
The reality that I could die at any time set in weeks and weeks ago. And then the tears started. The wild emotions haven’t stopped since the night I made the choice to help my best friend live. Since I realized that I can’t survive without him.
And I have no idea when I might see Kalib again.
But I’m not careless. I only let tears out at night . . . when I’m alone and no one can see.
Or hear. Hopefully.
It’s too dangerous to let out floods of emotion when anyone is looking.
Especially here in Carmine, when I live in a high-ranking Scarlet’s home. Eyes that don’t trust me are around every corner.
Mrs. Pierce . . . Lydia, the lady’s maid . . . Jax. Definitely not around Jax.
Nightly I worry that Ellie, my young charge, will appear through the door that separates our rooms. As her governess, I’m pretty much on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week whether I feel like it or not.
The child has not come in at night for some time, and I suspect that Mrs. Pierce has her daughter on some sort of sleeping meds to keep her from getting up and coming to me. Ellie has been different since the Gala, so part of me thinks they might be putting something in her dinner.
A beam of early morning light catches the edge of the frame on my dresser housing the portrait Kalib drew of me before we left the Tenement. Ellie gave me the frame as a gift. She said that art needs to be framed. In the likeness, a curl wraps around the base of my neck, and the right corner of my lip bends into the slightest smile.
What was Kalib thinking when he drew it?
The lines of the pencil drawing somehow capture who I am, like my soul is radiating behind the carefully sketched irises. Kalib saw me . . . the real me, even then.
Even when I was too afraid to see myself.
My best friend is stuck at a place called the Sub now. It’s a secret underground base run by the Alliance. But that’s as much as I know. Is he still thinking of me? Is he bored there? I wouldn’t know because I haven’t heard anything.
I do know he’s alive. Isaiah at least told me that.
For the thousandth time, my mind moves back to the night we helped him escape. I still can’t work out why he was important enough for the Alliance to break out of prison.
He’s just a Cobalt. Like me.
But somehow he was important enough.
To me that means something. That the Scarlet half of the Alliance is true to their word that they want peace and equality among Scarlets and Cobalts.
Cobalts aren’t just scum to them. Blueys.
Maybe it means that I am enough.
Mr. Robinson, Kalib’s boss and the head of the CPW, risked everything for my best friend, so I check in with Isaiah every chance I get to make sure that Mr. Robinson is okay too. Kalib’s arrest involved a connection with the Alliance, and that fact immediately shone the spotlight on his boss.
But the man seems to be a master negotiator. Somehow he’s been able to deflect blame away from the CPW for Kalib’s so-called treacherous behavior and play it as a one-off. Fortunately for us, the flurry of other news has added to the distraction. People are always preoccupied with the next thing.
I shake off those thoughts and lift my Flexx from my lap. On the screen is a blinking alert that someone with important news will be speaking in a moment. I know that at exactly eight a.m., Dr. Pierce, my boss and head virologist for the Carmine government, will be on the Sunday national news to make an announcement.
Very few know it will be him speaking.
But I’m aware because he told me to make sure I was watching. Why he did, I don’t quite understand. But even though I’m a Cobalt, the man trusts me.
Still, he’s a Scarlet and not part of the Alliance, so I’m well aware that I may not be able to trust him in return. That said, he’s brought me down to his lab in the basement multiple times and shown me some of the research on this new virus popping up all over that he’s calling Aves.
Aves because it first started showing up in birds. Like the dying bird that Ellie found on the house grounds.
Thank goodness we took precautions when we gathered up the specimen.
I prop my device up on my side table and stand. By eight thirty I’ll need to be ready for the day, so I quickly retrieve my blue uniform and pull the shirt and skirt on. From my desktop I retrieve a hair tie and whip my curls into a tight bun as I’ve done hundreds of times, securing it with the tie. Just as I finish, I grab a quick look at myself in the mirror.
A girl stares back at me.
She still wears the same heart necklace she left the Tenements with, but her face has changed. I’m not sure anyone else would notice, but in the six months I’ve lived with the Scarlets, I’ve gotten older. I look older.
The innocence that used to slightly round my cheeks is gone. And another girl was left in her place.
Mama and Papa would barely know me now.
I barely know me.
Soft music comes from my Flexx, and I twist from my reflection to the device screen.
The news logo spins into place, and seconds later a sound stage appears with two men seated in puffy armchairs across from each other. One of the men is Dr. Gavin Pierce, dressed in a luxe pinstripe gray suit with a red necktie and matching pocket square.
I’m sure Mrs. Pierce had the entire ensemble custom-made for the occasion.
Can’t go on the national Carmine news unless you are wearing something exorbitantly expensive . . . even under emergency circumstances.
Who cares that Cobalts are starving in the Tenement and people are dying?
The other man, whom I’ve seen a few times, has swooping dark hair, a slightly-less-costly suit, and a serious expression. The frame tightens on the newscaster.
“Welcome, Carmine,” he says in a friendly but authoritative tone, “to the eight o’clock morning news. I’m Blake Gonzalez, and today we have an honored guest joining us in the studio for an important announcement.”
The camera pans back again to show both Blake and Dr. Pierce with his hands folded in his lap and his back straight as an arrow. Much stiffer than he generally holds himself.
He’s nervous, and I don’t blame him.
“Welcome, Dr. Pierce,” Blake says.
My boss clears his throat. “Thank you for having me here today. I do wish it were under better circumstances, though.”
“Yes, yes.” Blake Gonzalez leans on the armrest slightly and furrows his brow in interest. “What can you tell us about the current health status of Carmine?”
Dr. Pierce pinches his lips for a second, then speaks. “In recent months we’ve all been hearing news stories concerning a sickness affecting birds.”
“Many have died,” the interviewer says. “Am I correct?”
“Aves for the bird connection?” Blake asks.
“Yes, exactly. But it also stands for Acute Viral Encephalitic Syndrome.”
“Acute Viral Encephalitic Syndrome? That sounds very serious.”
Dr. Pierce flattens his lips for a moment. “Of course it is; that’s why I’m here today. But as I was saying, we are now seeing a cross-species jump.”
“To other animals?”
Dr. Pierce pauses for a brief second. I know what he’s going to admit. I’ve seen the data down in the lab.
“To humans.”
Blake straightens in his chair. “Humans? In Carmine?”
“That is correct.”
Dr. Pierce has had me down in his basement lab helping him map out the places in the city and outside of it that Aves has been identified. The first case was a child that was rushed for emergency medical care. They died within the hour and their house was quarantined . . . but no one else got the disease. Instead, another case popped up across town, and this time two people in the household got it. One died and the other is still under observation . . . but the prognosis doesn’t look good.
Each time it looks as if Aves is contained, another case surfaces. Due to the sensitive nature of the situation, the president wanted to keep everything under wraps, but Dr. Pierce and a few others convinced him that the public needs to be made aware so precautions can be taken. Dr. Pierce also wants to ensure that correct information, as he knows it, is released so false rumors don’t spread.
“Is there any possibility that Aves came from the Tenements?” Blake asks out of the blue. I saw the list of potential questions Dr. Pierce might be asked, and this was not one of them.
A light gasp escapes my mouth.
By the arch of his brow, Dr. Pierce is just as surprised at the unexpected question. “Um, no,” he says. “We’ve yet to spot a case in any of the Tenements . . . but everything points to a jump from birds to humans.”
“But since you are not seeing cases among the Cobalts, could this mean that they released something dangerous into the Scarlet population?”
“No, no . . .” Dr. Pierce says quickly. Other than his trust in me, I still don’t believe that he has any particular affinity for Cobalts, but he is a man who wants the truth about Aves to come out. That I’m sure of. “There is no evidence of that. Plausibly there could be no cases because there is little travel between the Tenements and Carmine, and the electrodome deters birds from flying into the areas where Cobalts live.”
“But there have been talks of uprisings in the past, even terrorist activity within the Tenements . . . and then there’s this new Alliance group we have reported on,” Blake insists. “Cobalt responsibility has not been ruled out.”
Dr. Pierce releases an audibly frustrated breath. “There is no evidence of intentional Cobalt involvement in the spread of Aves.”
But it doesn’t matter what he says. The damage has already been done. Scarlets have little reason to trust or care about Cobalts. All we are is a cheap workforce for them . . . not equals. We’re potential enemies.
This is just one more reason to hate us.
My stomach twists into a knot and I plop down on the edge of my bed again to keep my head from spinning.
“Listen, Blake,” Dr. Pierce’s tone drops into a lower, more authoritative register. “I came here today to give the facts. The Carmine Health Institute will be releasing guidelines to curb the spread of Aves at ten a.m. today. I would advise each and every Carminian to read through these and listen for current updates daily. As of now, we believe the spread can be contained if the general public is aware of their actions and responsibilities. My intent is not to spread any information that is not determined as fact.” With those words, Dr. Pierce stands and walks off the sound stage.
Blake opens his mouth and begins to speak, but I tap the screen of my Flexx and it goes dark. I don’t want to hear any more of this.
But none of what the newscaster said surprises me. It should . . . but it doesn’t. So many people don’t care about the truth. They care about what makes them comfortable.
And blaming Cobalts makes lots of Scarlets comfortable. Way more than reality.
Fiction is often more exciting than truth.
My eye immediately goes to my bedroom door, and I expect someone to fly through and cart me away. But no one does. For now, at least.
But what about the Tenement? If there haven’t been any cases there yet, is it just a coincidence or something else? All I want to do is talk to Papa and Mama, but I know that’s impossible. And what about Kalib’s family?
I curse under my breath that I can’t talk to Kalib. I need him. Sometimes the kiss we shared feels like a dream that never really happened. But I know it did.
I want his muscular arms around me right now and for him to tell me that I’m okay. I’m not, of course, but having my best friend here would help. I long to run my hands through his messy blond hair and touch his cheek where the spray of freckles fans out over it.
Grounding is what I need.
And Kalib is home.
My panicked breaths start to come faster when the internal door between Ellie’s room and mine flies open.
“Tenly!” Ellie says, a huge smile stretching across her cheeks. “We get to spend the day together.” The girl’s tangle of blonde curls sticks out all over her head, and her blue eyes hold just a hint of sleep still in them. Ellie turned seven last month.
The sight of her happy expression calms my nerves slightly, and I force my lips into a smile too. No need to upset her.
“Yep,” I manage. “Isaiah is going to help us today with understanding some of your Red Lady household duties.”
This announcement stops Ellie in her tracks, and her arms twist like a pretzel over her chest. “Do I have to?”
She only tolerates the boring Red Ladies requirements and would much rather do a secret science lesson with me or her father. But he’s had no time for her in the lab downstairs with everything going on with Aves.
But I don’t want to think about that right now.
I smile again and lean closer to her. “We’re going to learn about napkin folding.”
Ellie’s eyes light up. “Can I learn to make a swan?”
I nod. “I’m sure you can.”
Mrs. Pierce would hate it if she knew that Ellie was actually folding cloth napkins. But I figure I can justify it if asked by saying she needs to know how to do it to judge if it’s been done well.
It also accomplishes a few other things.
One . . . Mrs. Pierce rarely goes down to the servant’s quarters, so I won’t run into her. Two, Ellie will find the whole experience fun.
And three . . .
I glance at my Flexx.
It gives me a little time to convince Isaiah that I need to speak with Kalib. As soon as possible.
Chapter 2
After getting Ellie dressed and ready for the day, I quietly lead her down the back stairway to the servant’s quarters. She grabs two banana muffins from the kitchen for our breakfast and then we find ourselves, mouths full, at Isaiah’s office door.
I steel myself, trying to will away the questions about Cobalts from the news interview with Dr. Pierce. Worrying Ellie is the last thing I want to do. She’s the only small amount of joy I have in this place.
I swallow my bite of muffin and wait for her to do the same. I almost can’t stop her as she reaches her fist to pound on the door. But I put my hand in front of her just in time.
“Remember your manners,” I admonish.
Ellie’s lips twist into a pout. “But it’s just Isaiah.”
She doesn’t mean that in a bad way, only that he’s familiar and she’s comfortable with the man who runs the household servants. In some ways, he’s like an uncle to her.
I straighten my back. “Not today. Today Mr. Isaiah is your teacher. When you grow up to be a wife in your own Scarlet household, you will need to know the proper ways of doing everything in society. And banging on any door is inappropriate.”
The words coming from my mouth sound ridiculous. But my job and mere continued existence require me to say them.
Ellie rolls her eyes—an expression I’d like to be doing at this moment, too, but don’t. “We can still do the science lesson later, though, right?”
