Foreword: Yes, I am aware that I have posted several works with the same title on Dream Catcher and I would like to apologize beforehand for any confusion. You see, I've been having some plot struggles and have been working out the kinks by experimenting. So far, this is the best revision. I also apologize for any typos because I seem to have a lot of those xD
No birds sing in the silence. Only the hum of our car and the screech of its wheels against the road sound as we drive into oblivion.
While I look out the window, I keep hoping the horses will come from the woods and run alongside the vehicle with their stately grace, their dark coats silhouetted against the meadow. But even if they wanted to stretch their legs and challenge advanced aerodynamics to a race, their instincts wouldn’t allow them to.
The horses are clever creatures. They know to never trust the ones in the white lab coats. The White Coats’ minds are curious, too curious, and they will change you; alter you into a new invention, mold you like clay into whatever they need; fabricate beauty. But they can’t hurt you if they can’t catch you; run before they do.
The car skids to a stop parallel to the wooden fences outlining the road. A butterfly rests on one of the fences. An Emerald Swallowtail.
Its wings quiver like flower petals. Delicate, vein-covered sheets of gossamer. They can’t weigh more than a feather. I wish I could trace those veins, the ones lined with the glitter of fairies, tinted with sunshine, and obedient to their own natural design. But every time I reach for one, the glass stops me and the butterfly rouses, only the flutter of wings and a flash of color before it glides through the air with the dandelion wishes.
Be free precious beauty. Fly while you still can.
Outside the window the world is wonderful. All seven colors of the rainbow coat the seas, highlight the skies, and everything in-between. I can even see the wind and its invisibility. It proposes dance with the willows and sways with the grass, painting nature’s movement with the tip of its finger.
My hand draws closer to this beautiful world, my body wound with excitement. Quickly, I retreat. I clutch the camera close to my throbbing heart and raise its head. Snap. The Polaroid develops and slides into my hand, its edges warm. I wave the paper and the image leaks onto the page. I trace the butterfly’s wings flapping in the sky. At least I can pretend.
Suddenly the engine revs and the machine comes to life. The wheels spin and we leave behind the pretty picture.
“Aaralyn dear, it’s a long way until we arrive.” She acts like we’re friends. We’re not. “You should take a nap.”
A sharp stab in my side and everything fades to blackness. Before I completely taken under I see their wings, delicate like flower petals.
*
Moonlight seeps through the holes of lace curtains, streaking the sharp and angular face of a man. A layer of spikes protrude from his cheeks and ride on his lip.
“We need to go, James.”
But James does not move. He looks down at his daughter lost in slumber holding close the tattered kitten doll Sayo had knitted her, love entwined in every stitch. This daughter cannot be more than four, not ready for school, not ready for the world.
Not ready to be left alone.
Sayo lays a hand on James’s shoulder and the other on her bulging stomach.
“She won’t be alone forever.”
Do you trust her, James? Are her words true?
The corners of James’s eyes are creased and the corners of his lips are set in a deep frown.
“And what about now, Sayo? If we leave her now we might never get her back.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, James. We’ll come back for her.”
James shrugs Sayo’s hand off of his shoulder. “That’s not what I mean, Sayo. I’m saying she’ll forget us. We’ll lose that spot in her heart as parents.”
This stops Sayo. Now she frowns, too. Her hair, dark like night, dark like her name, falls in glossy sheets. Long and silky, her daughter’s will be also. Some of it is damp from sweat and sticks to her cheeks. Her face is white in comparison.
Sayo opens her mouth to speak, but before she can, the handheld tucked in her back pocket starts to screech, exclaiming red rays. Sayo removes the handheld, flicks it off and buries it in her coat.
“We are what we are, James. I want her to be happy, but in order for her to be happy she needs to be safe first.” Sayo pauses, holding back the tears that defy her command. “Are you ready? They’ve surrounded the Tsukuba Space Center. Hallen needs backup forces.”
Reluctantly, James nods and Sayo heads for the door. He reveals a gold pendant in his palm and strokes the precious stones set in its wings.
“Sweet dreams, darling.” James kisses his daughter’s cheek before leaving.
The pendant rests around the little girl’s neck, winking with secrets.
*
“Her papers are all set. Would you like me to go over the application once more?” Swirls of color in darkness. They airbrush the page.
“Once more, Karina. We can’t have any errors.”
Suddenly, the image washes over my eyes. I am in an office without windows. The furniture is black except for the clear vase of yellow Belladonnas. Are those coins at the bottom of the vase?
“It looks like our guest is awake.”
I turn my head toward the man speaking. It’s Giovanni, one of the trackers. He is seated in front of his desk where there is a half-glass of water and a laptop. Hovering beside him is his partner, Karina Hunt. She smiles at me, bleached-white teeth glowing.
“How was your nap?” she asks. I have to hold my breath to keep myself from snorting. “Pleasant. But I prefer taking naps without the help of a giant needle in my back.” Using my elbow I rub the spot where I was darted. There’s probably a scar similar to a mutant mosquito bite.
“It’s the standard procedure. Also, you’re a light sleeper.” Giovanni sips more of his drink, brown goatee brushing the top of the glass. A certain sharpness carves his blue eyes. I’m not so sure it’s water anymore.
“Belladonnas, huh?” I change the subject, stabbing a finger in the direction of the vase. My legs are numb as I swing them over the leather chaise I was set on. “The Deadly Nightshades?”
“They’re Karina’s favorite flower.”
“Figures…” I mumble to myself.
Amalie Maynard, labeled a desperate psychopath from my seventh year in Strasbourg ate them. The boy she liked, Conrad Lawley, nicknamed the sucker by those partial to English, made her. Said he’d give her some of his renowned lip action if she did.
No one thought she’d do it. Belladonna berries were lethal. Everyone knew that, including Conrad. Amalie didn’t seem to care. In fact, she swallowed five of them whole before her skin turned scarlet and her throat started burning from the poison. She squirmed on the ground like an earthworm, screaming things I couldn’t quite understand. From afar I watched. I didn’t have the power to help her.
“Forget about my favorite flower.” Karina adjusts her frameless glasses and shuffles her documents. “We need to get these files in order.”
Giovanni waves a hand nonchalantly. A lit cigar magically appears in the other.
“Aaralyn Hart, age fifteen as of the twenty-second of January. Pursued and captured ten miles south of Sendai, Japan by Nova Sector V three weeks prior to today, the fourteenth of October. Powers still unidentified as well as origin, though it has been rumored somewhere in Eastern Japan. Daughter to astrophysicist James Frederick Hart and molecular biologist Sayo Takahashi, both of whom have yet to be located--”
“That information is only true to some extent,” Giovanni interrupts, taking another swig of the clear liquid. “Sector V believes the Resistance is based in…China.” He slams the glass on the table and the room--along with everything in it-- quakes in fear. “Those bastards. Of all places!”
“Calm down, Giovanni. It’s only a hunch, isn’t it?” Karina asks.
“But just the possibility.” Giovanni forms a cage with his fingers, shaking his head. “Don’t let me interrupt you. Go on.”
Karina’s lips tremble, as though she wishes to say something more reassuring. But she just nods and continues.
“Physical profile: black hair, violet irises, frame type small. Approximately five feet and four inches, weighing--”
“You don’t have to go that far with my personal information, you know?” I quickly add. Giovanni throws his bald head back to guffaw before he gestures for Karina to continue.
“You were a very tricky one to catch, Miss Hart. Your parents were cunning and insubordinate, as are you.” Intolerance glints off her lenses. “We’ve been watching you since you were very young. It wasn’t until your fourth birthday that you managed to elude Nova’s watchful eye.”
After a mere four years, my time with mom and dad was up. Dedicated scientists never have time for their children, or anything else other than science really. My childhood was mainly composed of me being tossed from place to place like abandoned baggage. I don’t even think I have a hometown.
“Eleven years to catch,” Karina continues. “You’re rather good at hide-and-seek, dearest. A little too good, don’t you think?”
“It‘s not my fault you didn‘t bring your A-game to work for eleven years,” I grumble between breaths. “And personally, I think I should’ve moved more often to keep you and the rest of the blood-sucking leeches in the Corporation off my back. Yes, offense applied.”
“Always the feisty one, I see,” Karina says with a wry smile. “Well, I suppose we shouldn‘t expect you to be happy about your capture. But we do expect in time for your impression of Nova and the Corporation to change. Hopefully you‘ll begin to understand our true motives and intentions. ” Karina places the papers in the manila folder before inserting them into a machine similar to a paper shredder, only instead of a shredding sound it makes a vacuum’s suction noise.
There’s a long, awkward pause before Karina notices me staring at the device fastened in the wall.
“You’ve never seen one?” she asks, eyes slit with curiosity. “It’s a scanner that converts written documents into digital copies. A translator if you will.”
Except it’s not human.
The words bob in the back of my mind. I should’ve known Karina Hunt, head of Nova’s search team wouldn’t rely on traditional methods like writing. With the amount of money and superior technology Nova boasts, I’m surprised ballpoint pens still exist on their campus.
She presses her thumb against the glass screen beside the opening, making it emit a faint yellow glow.
“I’m assuming she won’t verify her origin or power,”--she turns to Giovanni--“but we can confirm the strongest we’ve detected her abilities was when her energy levels simultaneously destroyed the Richter magnitude scales in Paris and Lyon.”
This makes Giovanni’s face stretch. I become unsettled.
“Step outside a minute, sweetheart. We’ll be right with you.” Giovanni orders, gaze remaining on Karina’s.
“Whatever you say, master,” I gripe, throwing myself off the chaise and slipping out the door. The upper half of my body is stiff from sitting so long on that rock of a chair.
Who the hell do you think you are telling me what to do?
I lodge my shoe in front of the door before it can close completely. My heart starts beating as fast as a hummingbird’s, hammering the walls of my chest. I lean forward until my ear kisses the door’s surface. I close my eyes.
“We can’t put her through that.” There’s only murmuring at first. And hushed breathing. “She’s simply not ready! All the other candidates have been here more than half their lives. She won’t stand a chance against them.”
“You know she’s fit for this, Karina. Do you really believe that this timing is a mere coincidence? Sheer luck? Because I don’t. To play a wildcard is to take a risk, and what better wildcard to play than the wild girl?”
“There has to be someone else more qualified.”
“There isn’t, Karina. The real competition has been stalled far too long. Leonardo has been on our tails, demanding justice after the,” Giovanni pauses. “The incident. If Mirage’s panel goes one more day without proper compensation, Leonardo won’t think twice about removing us. We both know he has more authority in this business.” Giovanni’s voice cracks, either in envy or fear. He clears his throat. “Plus, I’m absolutely certain the ratings will double at minimum if we play this rookie as a wildcard.”
“Oh, silly me! I forgot that the media adores the slaughter of children. That’s why throwing an untrained, unarmed man in the den of assassins is okay.”
“God Karina, you make it seem like we’re all sadists in this business! It’s not that the viewers adore the slaughter of children. The competition is just more interesting when an unfortunate event or two take place.”
“We’re not sadists. We’re masters of euphemism,” Karina grunts. “They believe what we tell them to believe.”
“Exactly. And besides, she can learn from experience! I bet the second we throw her into battle her war instincts will kick in. This child was born for combat. She has a power beyond comprehension.”
“And a power she refuses to use. We’re not even sure what it is exactly.”
“We’ll find out later this evening. What power she has is completely irrelevant to the matter at hand. What matters is that she has potential. And power… Broke two Richter scales. Ha! Reminds me of Valter, only she’s more of the talker. Both broke the scale, did they not? There’s not a doubt in my mind she’s the one.”
“Hush up, Giovanni. You know of Valter’s past dealing with this placement. Speak of his name and he just might have another outburst,” Karina hisses. The frigidness of her tone makes me shudder.
“Don’t be so defensive, Karina. Valter tried to break out of here a few times is all. We’ve seen plenty of unsuccessful rebellions in our time.
“Oh no.” Karina’s voice turns solemn. I clutch the hem of my jeans, palms coated with sweat. “Not like him. You know very well he’s caused a lot of chaos--”
“Eavesdropping I see,” someone whispers from the side. My heart drops.
I whip around to find a girl with hair highlighted bright pink.
“Don’t be scared. I won’t snitch on ya.” She winks, thick black lashes coated twice with mascara. Her eyes and lips match the streaks in her hair. They stand out against her skin, which is white like a blank canvas. “If you’re hanging out at headquarters I’m assuming you’re new?” She flashes a cool smile. “I’m Reverie, Reverie Jakoba, but everyone just calls me Koba because it doesn‘t take up as much breath.” Koba extends an open hand.
I open my mouth to speak but find no words. I can only stare and wonder what the rest will look like, if they all acted this normal. The possibility that this girl managed to avoid being selected as a subject for experimentation comes to mind.
“Koba, it’s obvious this idiot isn’t familiar with manners.” A boy appears from behind Koba and sneers. He wears dark eyes and a scowl unfitting to his ghost-like profile. “She doesn’t like you and she’s not even courteous enough to say it to your face, let alone react.” I feel my cheeks start to burn.
“Oh…” Koba withdraws her hand, grin falling.
“Wait!” I shout, taking her wrist. Koba and the boy’s eyes instantly flicker into mine. They share a power in their gaze, an intensity almost too fervent. “Look, I’m sorry. I was just a bit stunned. I’m Aaralyn.” I hold a hand out to her, praying she doesn’t hate me.
Koba’s face lights up and she shakes my hand, nearly ripping it off with sincerity.
“Enchanté.”
“Uh, yoroshiku onegaishimasu,” I say with a shaky smile, unable to remember the last time I met a new face that didn’t want to capture me. “Pleasured to meet you.”
“I’m sure you are,” the boy groans, index finger wrapped around the chocolate-colored ribbon under his color. Koba gives him a pointed look.
“Circa, don’t be rude! You don’t even know her!”
“And I could do without meeting her.” Circa turns on his heel to face her. “Besides, why should I be nice when you rarely are?
Koba’s bottom lip quivers. A fist dangles at her side. Has she been pretending this whole time?
“What exactly are you kids doing out here?” The door is now wide open with Karina clawing the knob. Her eyes are narrowed with suspicion. “You know the Nova Headquarters are off limits to the students.”
Koba smiles impishly while Circa forms a gun with his hand and aims it at his temple.
Off limits?
“Donovan sent us here to check the status of Mirage’s war reparations,” Koba says, cupping a hand over one side of her mouth as though sharing a secret. “In other words, we want the 4-1-1 on who the new candidate will b--”
“Jakoba, that is highly classified information Tell Donovan to quit wasting my time with his personal problems.” Karina digs a heavy heel into the floor.
“Yes, ma’am.” Reverie sighs and files down the shadowed hall behind Circa. Before entirely out of view, she yells, “Hope you’re chosen to play for Rave.” And then she’s gone.
TBC...
