The Last City Read online
Page 23
However, if the ward’s words affected him in any way, he didn’t show it.
“You know it was me that brought you here,” he tried to reassure me. “You could feel me.”
“I know.”
“Lydia,” he released my hand and turned on the bench to face me. “I haven’t lied to you. I may not have told you everything, but only for your sake, and at Haize’s insistence, but… I did agree with her. And for that, I am sorry.”
Back on Earth, withholding information was often construed as lying, at least in the house I grew up in. But withholding information from my parents to protect my brother from getting into trouble, was one thing. Here, on this planet, my life was involved.
I smiled at him and planted a small kiss upon his lips. But I couldn’t look into his eyes, not yet, and so I moved into him, nestling my head into his neck and shoulder. I needed to see Mason. More questions needed answers. And at the same time my hatred for the ward seethed through me.
∞
Only a week had passed before Lena and Dax insisted we return to the Arena, advising that Gia could use the exercise, as well. The argument that ensued didn’t last long. Gia, it seemed, was overjoyed by the idea, but more so, she knew what I needed and quickly shut down any disagreement from both Jordan and Grid.
“What is the possibility of the Guardian gaining the upper hand once again?” she asked. “It’s very possible,” she answered without waiting for any response. “And what if the unthinkable happens? Are you going to keep her wrapped up in cotton wool? Or will you give her the skills to defend herself? You can’t always be around. You both know this.”
Her words hit them hard and they winced at the truth. Neither Jordan nor Grid could protect me all of the time, and I didn’t want them to either. Grid had to think of Gia before everything else, and I silently vowed to never again let anything separate them. Jordan however, was mine to protect, and he me. And he knew as well as I did, that anything could happen, guarded or not.
I cut a quick glance, and a very brief smile, in Gia’s direction. She winked at me in response, acknowledging my gratitude.
There were no further arguments. Both Grid and Jordan were the first to accommodate Gia’s every request, without question. I was quite sure they both knew they were being manipulated, but it was for a good cause.
And the Arena welcomed us back.
“We need to continue training, hand to hand,” Dax told me, once we were inside its shimmering gray walls. “We’ll start slow.”
“NO,” Jordan was emphatic, resuming his stance against me training again so soon.
“Yes,” I insisted, but not as forceful as I would have liked. Watching him exert himself was still as every bit as thrilling as the first time I’d seen it.
Jordan turned me toward him, but his mouth flickered the briefest of smiles when he felt how he’d affected me. “You don’t have to do this anymore,” he said, but the fight in him had waned.
“Yes, I do. He won’t ever get to me again.”
“No, he won’t because I’ll never again leave your side.”
I knew his intent was sincere and I didn’t mind, not one little bit. However, we’d already been separated by force, by the warriors, by the wards. But it was something Rebecca had once said that came back to me, and I didn’t want to say it. Didn’t even want to think it.
“And what if something happens to…” but I trailed off. I couldn’t make the words come out.
“We will be there in a heartbeat,” Lena said, directing her words at Jordan. I never thought I would see the day, when I would hear her consoling anyone. However, before I could think any more about it, she glared at me as though disapproving my thought, and said, “But I agree with Dax. You need to keep training.”
I grinned at her anyway, but for an entirely different reason. She called him Dax. I think for the first time, that I knew of anyway. Dax however, didn’t seem to appreciate my amusement, for his hand twitched as though he wanted to punch me. But his gaze cut to Jordan, immediately stilling his instinct to retaliate.
We hadn’t yet warmed up, but I was eager to get going. It may have only been a week, but after all that had happened, it felt more like a month had passed since I’d last trained. But the tension in the room, that had barely begun to rise, was cut short by a voice I’d missed.
“Not today she doesn’t.”
Haize. Finally making an appearance.
I swung around at the sound of her voice, and almost ran at her, but she caught me in her arms before I could barely take a step.
“Where have you been?” I asked her. She was the one person I’d come to rely upon as being always level-headed, always having the answers, and always knowing what was best for me whether I agreed with it or not.
“Busy with all these muscle-heads trying to kill each other. And you’re not ready to do any training. Not today.”
I couldn’t help but notice her glance at Jordan, I was sure he’d relayed our incident to her. She moved past me though, to embrace Gia, and to briefly inspect the small swell of her belly, before continuing.
“But there is something you need to see,” Haize said back to me.
“You don’t want her to train, but you want her to see that?” Lena asked in disbelief.
“I think it’s necessary.”
“I think so, too,” Jordan agreed with Haize.
“See what?” I absolutely hated all the mind reading and wished they would just speak.
“Better just to show you,” he said, and we followed Haize out of the dome.
While walking across the desert, my muscles got their first real workout in days. The weakness in my limbs, the sweat, the dust from the heated terrain, all felt good. It felt real, tangible… Even if it was only generated. And part of me wanted to run as far and as fast as I could, past the city and back again. Run until I couldn’t. And I promised myself I would begin a daily trek.
Once we’d crossed the desert, we continued on, past the Colony to the south-western wall of the city.
Seeing the wall back in its place, pulled me out of the tranquil meditation the walk had lulled me into. As I stared at it, the serenity within, slowly faded to resignation. And it all came rushing back - the Guardian, the wards, the danger, the militia - I’d almost forgotten them. But also, the conversation I needed to have with Mason.
“Any news from Mason, or Aleric, about what the militia may be planning next?” I asked.
“Not yet,” Haize answered. “Aleric and Mason are watching them at their settlement, though.”
“How are they watching them?” I asked, somewhat confused. I was under the impression that they were in the city.
“That’s one of the things Aleric and the others did when they disappeared. They installed sensors around their camp,” Haize said. “Partly to see how long they’d survive out there.”
I wanted to ask out where, but my head was already stuffed full of answers I wished I’d never sought, and I wasn’t yet up to adding more to that pile. At least, not until I could put to rest the questions that addled me, whether asking them was to my benefit or not. And I realized that Mason may be too busy saving his planet to deal with my menial issues.
My thoughts however, were interrupted as we came to a sudden stop. My head had been down since we’d passed the wall, but I’d managed to get my feet to follow theirs.
And when I looked up, all I saw was green pasture. Then I remembered where we were. This was their field of graves. I swept my gaze across the field, but I could no longer see any of the outlines of the graves that had once spread far and wide. Except that is, for one.
“He’s in there,” I whispered, not really questioning.
“Well, part of him is,” Lena told me. “The rest is scattered across seven other fields.”
“There are eight?” I managed to ask, needing to be sure I’d heard right.
“Yes,” she said. “And he is permanently in there. Even if t
he frequencies come down, he’s staked and buried. He won’t be returning anywhere.”
“Once this is all over, he’ll be sent back to Terah,” Haize added.
Sent back to his home world, free to go about his life, torturing some other woman, as he saw fit. And even if the women there were just as violent, which I couldn’t wholly believe, his going back didn’t quite sit well with me.
I quietly exhaled, long and slow, but I’m sure Jordan heard every muffled rattle within my chest.
“He will never get that close to you again,” he whispered to me.
I wanted to believe that, but I couldn’t. Not due to any failing on Jordan’s part, but because of the single-minded determination of the ward. For now, though, I was free of him. I just needed to get him out of my head. I hadn’t dreamed of him, not that I could recall, but I was sure Jordan was taking care of that. For he was always there, filling me with his warmth, his love, he was ever present in my dreams.
I pulled my gaze away from the grave. I couldn’t look at it a second longer. I was glad however, that I would always be able to discern the green light upon the ground, signaling his presence within. And despite my need to move as far away from it as I could get, I insisted they show me the others.
By the end of our journey, I found I was comforted by the fact that he was there where I could see him - well the green squares of his graves anyway - but he could neither see, nor sense, me. It was a small thing, such simple satisfaction, knowing that for now I was safe, and I felt a weight lift from me. I didn’t need to worry about where he was, or what he may be doing. I could see the pieces of him for myself.
And as promised, I began a daily jog across the desert to the fields with Jordan at my side, inspecting each and every grave that contained a piece of the ward. Jordan tried to tell me it was morbid to dwell upon him the way I did, but the rational side of my brain insisted that my jogs to the fields were more to reassure myself that he was still there. Only after I’d seen each one, would we then make our slow way back to Grid’s home.
The piece of me that I attempted to keep hidden however, was my secret wish to hear the ward screaming inside my head. But I never did. There was only silence.
I know you hear me, I thought to him one time. At least, I hope you can. I hope it hurts.
But as expected, there was no response, not even a whisper.
Not Yours, I thought as I walked away. Again, no response came. But his silence began to worry me, as though he was biding his time.
I was sure Jordan could hear every thought within me, every spark of every fear. Occasionally, the worry would appear upon his face as he glanced my way, and instead of soothing me with words, his palm would caress my cheek, his soul would nuzzle mine, or he would wrap me within his warm embrace, his strength, his love, keeping me safe.
Throughout the quiet of each night however, my unanswered questions would work their way into my thoughts. The words the ward had spoken were getting to me like an open wound, ripe for infection, and I was sure if too much time passed an infected wound would be the least of my worries. I needed to know once and for all, if there was any truth to what the ward had said. I believed Jordan, or rather I believed that he believed. But my brain wouldn’t let it go, I needed to know. Busy or not, I had to see Mason, and I couldn’t let any more time pass before I did.
∞
“This way,” Jordan said the following morning. We’d barely made it across the fields, when he changed direction, nudging me along.
“Where are we going?”
“Into the city,” he quietly told me.
“What? But how?”
“Mason is waiting for us. He can take us straight to the Spire.”
“And why are we going there?” I asked. He’d most likely read my thoughts the previous evening, but I couldn’t assume that to be the case.
He sighed. His head angled toward the ground, and for several minutes I wasn’t sure if he was going to answer, until he looked across at me. He slowed his pace to a walk, and I matched my steps with his. And waited patiently for him to respond.
“He has something for you.”
He faced the city wall, toward which we were now headed, and I followed his gaze to see Mason waiting for us. But as we grew closer his image flickered, as though he wasn’t really there.
“You waited until you reached the fields, yes?” he asked us as we approached.
“Of course,” Jordan responded.
“Waited for what?”
“To change course,” Jordan answered.
“Why?”
“I sent a temporary shield to the edge of the fields, to sense you when you entered it. It’s shielding you from being detected,” Mason explained, and then turned to Jordan. “It’s only temporary though. We need to move.”
As Jordan picked up both of my hands, a darkness slipped over my eyes, and for a moment I was not aware of any part of me, nor anything around me. It was like slipping into a deep sleep where no dreams entered, where nothing existed, not even me. But just like being jolted awake, awareness returned, and I opened my eyes to find myself in the middle of Mason’s workroom. His many air-screens fluttering with code, hung all around us.
“There you are,” a now solid Mason smiled, and pulled me in for a hug.
“Where’s Aleric?” I questioned. After Haize’s revelation, I had expected him to be in the room.
“He’s checking the borders along the northern edge of the city,” he said, then changed the subject before I could comment further on Aleric’s absence. “I know you’ve been questioning the things the ward said to you.”
“Does he have a name?” I asked before I could stop myself, and I hoped Mason wouldn’t answer. I really didn’t want to know any more about him than I already did.
“Not that I’ve heard from him, nor picked up from his memories in the Spire. If it’s in his mind, he’s keeping it there,” he looked up at Jordan for several moments, but I didn’t need to see them both to know they were communicating. Then taking a step away from us, he indicated with a wave of his hand to follow him. Once at the back of the room, we sat around his memory table, with Mason opposite me, and Jordan angling us both at the table end.
Mason held out one of his hands to me, and I placed one of mine upon his palm. Then turning our hands over, he flattened my hand against the table. A dull, white light scanned the length of my fingers and across my palm. It tingled up my arm as though it was penetrating my skin and entering my body. No one spoke. Mason only stared at me, studying me, for what seemed like several minutes. But that could have been my own misconception of time as fear of the unknown began to build within me. I wanted to pull my hand away, but he released me before I could resist.
“What was that?” I asked.
Before responding, he glanced across at Jordan.
“Just watch,” he said. He pulled from the empty space beside him, a small rectangle. His fingers touched the pale, white shape, then moving his hands apart, he expanded the transparent screen to the size he needed. His fingers then moved across the screen in a blur of movement, bringing to life a slow-swirling, oval-shaped ring. It glowed a yellow-gold as it floated above the center of the table, almost at our eye level.
“This is a visual representation of how you were brought here. The particle manipulator, the machine,” he smirked. “That the Central Unit utilized to connect you both, connects us with others not only throughout this universe, but also with those in other dimensions. This image is a simplified form of the process, so you can see who brought you here.”
He touched the center of the ring, and the air around it rippled in a ball-wave effect, as though a pebble had been dropped into water. A light sparked upon one of the shimmering ripples as though the ripple had touched upon something.
“Jordan, seeking your presence, finding you, and connecting with you,” he quietly explained.
The new light quickly grew brighter,
larger, until it formed its own oval ring. The first ring of light stretched one side to a point until a single thread leapt to life. The thread then stretched toward the new light, until they both connected. And when they did, the waves of ripples contracted, shrinking backward, and bringing with them the second oval of light. As the second light was pulled, one side stretched also to a point. Then slowly, the distance between the two rings shortened, until they touched, forming a perfect sideways figure eight.
“The stored record of Jordan bringing you here,” Mason said. “The moment the thread connected with your light, was when you sensed his presence.”
“How is all of this even possible?” I murmured, dazzled by the image before me.
“When you first connected,” Mason said. “Jordan explained to you that there were particles that could move through dimensions, do you remember?”
I nodded. The following day while researching all he’d said to me, I’d tried to remember his words and typed them out over and over, until I was sure I had them right.
“Those particles that can move through dimensions, can attach themselves to other particles, like little magnets,” Mason continued. “And they can take those other particles with them between dimensions. This is what our particle-manipulator does. It seeks out those dimension-jumping particles, and puts them to work.”
I was grateful he’d kept it simple. And again, all I could do was nod.
“Ready?” he asked me, but without waiting for an answer, he rewound the image before us, to the point where we had just connected. “Auditory,” he commanded.
‘Jordan?’ My own voice filled my mind, and as it did the memory of that moment, walking through the forest toward my own field, my own river, came rushing back.
‘Lydia,’ Jordan’s loving tone responded through the image.
I closed my eyes. Squinted rather. That wasn’t right.
“Stop,” I urged Mason, then turned to Jordan. “You didn’t speak to me. I know you didn’t. I don’t remember you saying anything at all.”
“You mean you couldn’t hear me?”