Beyond Reach, page 21
part #3 of True Calling Series
“No weapon, sir, but he was carrying this,” he says, holding up the digital chip containing the recording. Stepping forward, he hands it to Agent Dale for inspection. Shaking his head in disgust, Agent Dale slides the device into the pocket on his shirt and faces me.
CHAPTER 17
“What’s this?” Agent Dale asks. Quickly deducing that this is no time for subterfuge, I recognize that my options are limited. He can easily get the chip analyzed, so attempting to hide the truth will be of no benefit to us, or the situation we find ourselves in. All I can do is come clean, and perhaps there’s a way of using it to our advantage. I doubt Agent Dale is aware of the Chancellor’s extra-curricular activities, and when he reviews the file, he can’t help but be appalled at the content.
“It’s a copy of some recordings I made. Feel free to check it out.”
“What were you going to do with it?”
“Give it to a friend, an ex-neighbor of mine. But his house has been obliterated. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”
“I’ll hold onto this now,” he says. His refusal to even acknowledge my question tells me all I need to know. And all Isla needs to know as she lunges for him unexpectedly. He is caught off guard, and she manages to scrape her nails across his face before she’s contained. The abrasions on his cheek aren’t deep, but they still draw blood, and his skin swells and reddens at the point of contact. “Get them out of here!” he roars. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him rattled to the point of losing self-control.
My hands are pulled tightly behind my back, and I feel the sharp dig of the metal band as my wrists are bound. Isla is being similarly restrained in front of me. Twisting in my direction, she has a mixed look of satisfaction and sorrow drawn on her face. My body sags forward as a heaviness creeps through every part of my being, pushing and clawing and churning with the weight of the burden forcing me to confront the mounting body count attributable to me.
Isla and I are interviewed separately, so I’ve no idea how she’s getting on, but every so often, I hear raised voices coming from the adjacent room and a few loud bangs, and I know she’s giving them hell. A wry smile spreads over my lips. When Agent Dale finally appears in the room, sporting a bandage over the damaged side of his cheek, he’s extremely agitated and clearly in a foul mood.
He asks me again about the reason for our trip above ground, and I reply exactly as I did previously. Then he pushes a report in front of me and slouches back in his chair. Leaning forward, I scan over the pages. It’s a long list of data items, accompanied by corresponding dates and times. “Do you know what that is?” he asks, his finger tapping off the sheet.
“It looks like a list of reports and corresponding download dates.”
“Correct. That report is for your digital station. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“What do you want me to say?” I ask, shrugging my shoulders. I regularly download reports to aid work in progress and to provide information for management meetings, the Board, and the War Council.
“You’ve been withholding evidence, Zane. I’d like to know why.”
“I’ll admit that I held back on a couple of reports, because I had concerns about handing it over, but if you’re accusing me of withholding all of that,” I say, gesturing toward the written document resting on the table in front of me, “then I categorically deny it.”
“Look, Zane, I want to believe you—really, I do—but it looks pretty incriminating.”
“Where did you get that?”
“From Micha Kloon. I believe Rui extracted the report.”
“Well, there’s your answer. This is bull. Both those individuals have motive to frame me. Do me a favor, watch that recording, and then come back and tell me if you believe I’m guilty.” He watches me wordlessly for a couple of minutes.
“You’re free to go, for now, pending investigation. But you’re immediately suspended from all IT duties and War Council meetings, and you’re forbidden from going anywhere near the IT room.”
“This is completely unnecessary, but fine, whatever. What about Isla?”
“Cadet Monroe was out of control, so we’ve sedated her. She’ll be discharged from the hospital in the morning. I don’t see any reason to detain her; it appears her only crime is agreeing to go on your sojourn outside.” He withdraws a small, rectangular device from his back pocket, walks behind me, and removes my cuffs. Caressing my sore wrists, I watch as Agent Dale strides silently from the room.
I decide to pay a visit to Ari before checking in on Isla. She’s sedated, so she won’t miss me anyway. Walking toward Ari’s apartment, I try to confront my conflicted emotions. These last few days have been tumultuous. I feel like my world is spiraling out of my control, and everything I desire is slipping further and further from my grasp. I love Ari so much—desperately so—and I want to share my life with her, but that prospect is looking more and more unlikely with each passing day. I truly believe that she was starting to turn, but Cal showed up and thwarted everything. And now there’s the baby…
My encounter with Isla earlier today was poorly thought out on my part. At the time, I didn’t want to reject her—any more than I already have—and it felt good to feel desired, less lonely somehow. But I’m being brutally unfair to her, because I can’t give her what she wants. It would be so much easier if I could just let Ari go and plan a future with Isla, but I can’t force my heart to feel a certain way, as much as my head acknowledges it may well be the easier road to travel. Finding perspective when I’m so deeply immersed in the mire is proving problematic. I rest my head against the wall, shut my eyes, and try to empty my brain.
There’s the added complication of the mess we’re in. And the fact there’s no one we can apparently trust. The authorities would gladly publicly brand us ‘enemies of the state’ and order our termination. Clementia only values us as long as we retain possession of the things they so desperately desire. Their tolerance is waning day-by-day, and we need to accelerate our escape plan; there’s little time to waste. Focusing on that will at least distract me from my problematic love life, or lack thereof.
“Zane, what are you doing out in the hall?” Ari asks, suddenly materializing in front of me. Totally lost in thought, I hadn’t realized I’d already reached my destination.
“I was just thinking, and I lost track of time. Can I come in?”
“Of course.” Stepping aside, she motions for me to enter. A loud clatter of voices greets me as I step into the apartment. Deacon, Mel, Xander, and Ruby are deep in conversation on the couch. “They’re discussing some computer game,” she explains, rolling her eyes.
“What happened?” Leaning toward me, she lightly touches her fingers to the back of my head. I automatically reach up to touch the bump, and my fingers brush hers. A tingling sensation ignites in my fingertips and spreads throughout the rest of my body. Dropping her hand, she lowers her eyes to her feet.
“You’re not nearly as oblivious as you pretend to be.”
“I’m not pretending anything.” But she’s still not looking at me. Feeling the familiar twist in my heart, I curse myself for immediately opening the Pandora’s Box. It’s just so hard to conduct a normal conversation when every part of my mind, body, and soul cries out to her.
“I was outside with Isla, trying to deliver a copy of the recording to my friend. We ran into some trouble, and I cracked my head off the pavement.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“The kind that involved Agent Dale shooting a Ranger at point-blank range,” I blurt out.
“Zane!”
“What?”
“Deacon is freaked out enough already; please be careful what you say around him,” she says, looking cautiously over her shoulder.
Deacon is thoroughly engrossed in a game he’s playing with Xander, so I think it’s unlikely he overheard. However, I’m immediately contrite. “Sorry, I didn’t think.”
“Let’s go talk in private,” she says, nodding in the direction of her bedroom.
“Agent Dale confiscated the recording, and I’ve been suspended from all my official duties,” I admit, throwing myself sideways on her bed.
“Ah, crappers. What do you think they’ll do?” She sits down beside me.
“It won’t be pleasant, now they know we tried to double cross them.”
“We need to form concrete escape plans. We’re not disbanding the meeting tomorrow night until we’ve made some progress.”
“I agree. What about your mom and Lily?”
Covering her mouth with her hand, she merely shakes her head. Her whole face contorts in pain, and it strikes another blow straight to my heart. How I wish I could comfort her, but there are no soothing words that’ll make any of this better. “Don’t do anything rash, promise me?”
“Truthfully? I don’t know if I can promise that.”
“I can’t begin to imagine how difficult this is for you, but Deacon was right earlier. He needs you, Ari, and I think your parents would want you to stay here with him.”
“There’s so much at stake, for all of us. It’s hard to believe we’ll come through this unscathed. The thought of losing anyone else …” her voice trails off.
Pulling myself into a seated position, I gently cup my hands on either side of her face. “Hey, it’s going to be all right. We will figure a way out of this.” I release her face and drop my arm across her shoulders, tucking her into my side and soaking up the warmth of her soft body next to mine. Neither one of us makes any effort to talk, but there’s no need for words. This moment of simple intimacy speaks volumes.
Sometime later, Ari says, “Zane?”
Twisting my body, I turn toward her. “Yes?”
“Do you know much about the nostalgia elixir?”
“Not really,” I shrug, “All Agent Dale told me was that it targeted specific memories, erasing those images of people left behind on Earth. Why?”
“Do you think it can be reversed?”
“I asked Agent Dale that very same question once,” I admit. It was during the period of time when we were planning the rescue mission to Novo. All I was thinking about was my reunion with Ari, wondering how it was going to do down, because I knew she’d no recollection of me. Agent Dale had poured cold water on my hope in less than a minute flat. “He said there was no way to retrieve the memories, that they’re gone forever.”
Ari sits silently beside me, idly tracing her finger back and forth across her lips.
“What’s troubling you?”
Lifting her face slowly, she stares straight into my eyes. “I think I’m starting to remember,” she whispers.
“What?” I hop up, startled.
“I didn’t want to say anything before, because I wasn’t sure, but I’ve been having flashbacks in my sleep,” she admits.
“Geez, Ari, this is huge!” Plonking back down on the bed, I fail to keep the huge smile off my face or the excitement from my voice. “What exactly are you remembering?”
“It’s a bit mundane, but it appears to be the same flashback only that I get different pieces of the puzzle each time I dream. At first it was just an image of me out jogging by myself in the woods, then later I’m running and crying, and then in last night’s dream you were there, telling me it was going to be okay. Weird, right?”
“Strange, yeah,” I hear myself say, though it’s like I’m outside myself. Hot and cold tremors pervade my body, darting all over until I’m fully consumed in a shivery web of panic. Dear God, this can’t be happening. Conscious of her suspicious gaze and weary of her psychic ability, I compose my expression.
“You remember it, don’t you?” she asks, interest sparking in her eyes.
“Nope, you’re right—it sounds totally mundane.”
“I know when you’re lying, and fear is dripping off you like slime.”
“It’s nervous excitement you’re sensing,” I lie. “You know what this means? If you’re starting to get flashbacks, then you’ll remember how you felt about me.”
She narrows her eyes, and her gaze lingers on my face. “My memories returning won’t change a thing,” she says softly. “Because even if I remember how much I love you, it won’t alter how I feel about Cal. Looking into the past will be nothing but pure painful for both of us, and I’d prefer to focus on the future. Presuming there is one. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, because I truly believe it won’t make any difference. I’m sorry.”
The initial relief I felt at my successful manipulation of our conversation gives rise to anxiety of the worst kind. I need to get out of here before I betray my thoughts and feelings, and we end up back at square one.
“I need to check in on Isla,” I say, standing. “See you tomorrow?”
“Of course, Zane, goodnight.”
Isla’s still unconscious so I head home after visiting her.
I’ve been in bed at least an hour, but sleep continues to elude me. I refuse to acknowledge the real reason for my insomnia, so any time the thought enters my mind, I toss it immediately aside. Eventually, I drift into a restless sleep.
There’s no required duty forcing me to stick to my normal routine, so I rise at a leisurely pace the next morning. I’m just powering up my digital reader when frantic knocking hammers my door. Quickly concealing my device under the seat of the couch, I run over and open the door.
Dr. Hann is panting furiously, leaning against the wall, one hand on his chest. “It’s Ariana,” he says, breathlessly. No other two words could strike as much terror into my heart.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, gripping his shoulders. My mind rushes to a myriad of different conclusions.
“I was treating Cal in his cell when Ariana arrived. Live feeds transmit from the penitentiary to Central Control twenty-four seven, so they’ll have seen her illegal entry. Kloon will go ballistic; you need to get her out of there ASAP. I tried to reason with her, but it fell on deaf ears.”
I curse under my breath. Grabbing my sweatshirt from the armchair in the living area, I run out the front door. Dr. Hann trails behind me, and I can hear the effort it takes for him to match my stride. I know the route to the penitentiary, and running at high speed means we make it there in record-breaking time. Stepping aside, I allow the doctor to assume control once we reach the entry gate. I don’t have clearance to go beyond this point, so this is where he comes in. I wonder briefly how Ari got the information she needed to pull this off. She was conspicuously quiet on the subject of Cal all day yesterday; I guess now I know why.
Dr. Hann taps in a six-digit code on the keypad, and the thick, steel gate slowly slides open. In my rush to get to Ari, I trip over the slouched body on the ground. Dipping down, Dr. Hann places his fingers to the soldier’s wrist and his ear close to his mouth. “He’s fine, just stunned. Agent Dale must’ve sent him to retrieve Ariana. This is a very foolish move on her part, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Most of her judgments surrounding Cal are foolish in my opinion,” I admit, feeling comfortable speaking my mind around him. “But then you could say I’m fairly biased,” I add. “Which way?” Staring at the maze of corridors running in every conceivable direction, I’m perplexed.
“Follow me,” he says, rising smoothly. We head down a long, narrow corridor, surrounded on both sides by several solid, sealed metal doors.
“How do they police this place?”
“Remotely. They have cameras everywhere, so the prisoners are continuously monitored from Central Control. Soldiers are scheduled to conduct manual checks a few times each day.”
“So Cal is in permanent solitary confinement?”
“Yes. It’s enough to drive the average person insane, let alone someone who has been subjected to the abuse he’s been through.”
“This one,” Dr. Hann says, pointing to the door on his right. “Call out to her so she knows it’s only you.” His hand lingers over the keypad on the wall.
“Ari, I’m outside the door. I’m coming in.”
“I knew he’d fetch you.”
The doctor is looking at me funnily. “It’s okay, she knows we’re here,” I say, motioning toward the control panel while simultaneously tapping my temple with my forefinger.
Realization dawns on his face as he recalls our talent for silent communication. “What I wouldn’t give for an ability like that,” he chuckles, tapping in the code. The door creaks open noisily.
The room is tiny and cramped, despite the sparse furnishings. There’s a solitary bed, and a small, square table with one wooden, high-backed chair. In the corner, there’s a toilet, basin, and wall-mounted cupboard. That’s the sum contents of the room, and it still feels stifling. Ari is on the bed beside Cal. Both of them sit with their backs pressed to the wall. Their hands are entwined, and her thumb moves in circular motions over the palm of his left hand. He glares at me, primed to pounce. My throat pinches, and it feels dry, though it’s not with fear. I know it would be wrong to provoke him in such close quarters, so I focus my gaze on Ari alone.
“Ari, we need to leave now.”
“I’m not leaving him in here on his own.”
“You’re not thinking clearly.”
I switch tack. “Ari, you’re in it up to your neck already, and we have no escape plan in place yet. It would be totally irresponsible to try and flee with him now. Think of Deacon and Mel.” Anger simmers in her gaze, and her eyes flash dangerously. “Can we go now, please?” I ask.
“No one move,” a familiar voice shouts, as urgent footsteps approach.
“Damnit.” Shaking my head in exasperation, I peer out through the open door of the cell and watch helplessly as Agent Dale and a heavily armed team of soldiers advance toward us.
CHAPTER 18
“Is compliance too much to ask of you two?” Agent Dale demands, looking pointedly at Ari and myself.
