Elites of Eden

  “I don’t care how it looks,” I say, though that’s not true. I want to be wholly Rowan again. I resent that the other person is inside me against my will. And that voice. Is that an echo of Yarrow speaking to me? Something else? Just a confused false memory?

  Once they know I can see out of one eye at least, they are relieved. My half blindness doesn’t seem like a big deal to them, nor does my strange appearance. They’re just happy I’m alive and here, with my memory intact.

  “Where’s Lachlan?” I ask after a while. I feel like I need him right now. I love Lark—one way or another, I’m not sure which—but with her privileged life as a first and only child I don’t know if she can understand what I’m feeling as well as Lachlan can.

  When I ask, though, Ash looks at Lark . . . and Lark looks quickly down.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. “What happened to him?”

  “Lachlan’s gone,” Ash tells me. “He went to find your forest.”

  “HE DID WHAT?” I shout. “He went off on his own to cross the desert?”

  “There was a big argument after Flame sedated you,” Ash says. “Lachlan wanted to immediately call for volunteers to try to cross the desert and see if what you remember is true. Oh, I believe you! We believe you. But Flint and the others don’t. Flint wouldn’t authorize it. So . . . Lark suggested he go without authorization.”

  Lark is still staring at the floor.

  No. She wouldn’t do that. She’d never stoop so low.

  But why won’t she look at me?

  “You suggested that?” I ask with venom. I turn to Ash. “Didn’t you try to stop him?”

  “Of course,” he says. “But you know how he is. Once he has his mind set on something he’s not just going to wait around for permission.”

  I know that, but even Lachlan wouldn’t do something so foolhardy, would he? Not unless someone pushed him into it.

  “Look at me, Lark,” I say, and finally she does. Her eyes are wide and innocent, caring and concerned. But it could be just an act. I’ve seen Pearl often enough acting nice to get something she wants. She could be as sweet as anything to someone’s face, and then tear them apart as soon as their back was turned. Lark might be dissembling just as well.

  My voice steely, I ask her, “How long has he been gone?” I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep.

  “Almost a day,” she says in a small voice. I’m sure I hear guilt in it, and see guilt in the slump of her shoulders.

  “You sent him away,” I hiss at her. “I don’t know how you convinced him, but you talked Lachlan into going to look for the forest, didn’t you?”

  “No, I . . .”

  I don’t let her finish. I’m so convinced. “I saw the look in your eyes when I got my memory back, and I remembered everything I feel for Lachlan. You couldn’t stand it, could you?” I feel a little of Yarrow coming out. I want to make her suffer. “You saw me in his arms, and it drove you crazy. You hated him for it. You wanted him dead.”

  She’s shaking her head, and Ash is stammering no, no.

  But I’m still two people. Rowan’s feelings for Lachlan are mixing strangely with Yarrow’s need to dominate any girl that’s a threat. Some rational part in the back of my brain is whispering a warning that I’m behaving badly, and just about to step over a dangerous edge. Once I do, there may be no going back again. But somehow, I can’t stop myself.

  “You’re bikking jealous,” I say in a slow voice. “Ever since you found out about Lachlan, you’ve hated him. You’ve been planning something like this all along, and now you finally got your chance to get rid of him.” As I speak, Lark’s face goes from uncomprehending to incredulous . . . to furious. I don’t care. I can’t stop myself.

  I lean closer to her and whisper, “You sent him to his death, so you could have me all to yourself!”

  Lark gasps, a sound of pure astonishment. Then, almost in the same instant, she slaps me and runs out of the room. As the door slams behind her, I hear a sob. But it’s the angriest sob I’ve ever heard.

  My cheek is stinging, and Ash looks at me dumbfounded.

  “She didn’t send Lachlan away,” Ash says, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “She thought we should all go. Her, me, Lach. You when you were feeling better. Flint said no, and when he left, Lark said we should all go anyway, that Flint might be the leader but he didn’t actually have the power to control us. Then Lark and Lachlan had a big argument, with him saying it was too dangerous for her to go. That you’d never forgive him if anything happened to her.”

  “Oh,” I say in a small voice.

  “They said they’d save the argument for after you woke up, see what you thought. But then when I went to check on Lachlan, he was gone. So was one of the survival suits. Lark wanted to go after him right away, but I talked her into waiting until you woke up. You’re the only one who has been out there. I figured we had a better chance of helping him with you there, too.”

  What have I done? Lark tried to stop Lachlan, then wanted to save him. And I accused her of wanting him to die in the desert, burned or swallowed by nanosand.

  I have to apologize. To accuse her of such a thing is almost unforgivable. My cheek burns from her slap, but more than that, I burn with shame. After all of the brave, generous, loving things she’s done for me. Lark saved me from a prison I didn’t even know I was in.

  The person who said those horrible things—it wasn’t me. Was it? Was it Yarrow’s artificial personality coming through? Or is it the real me? How can I really know how I act within a society, when I’ve been hidden away all of my life? Maybe I’m really a terrible person who believes the worst of everyone. Maybe I can’t trust, or love . . .

  I need to make this right.

  “Rowan,” Ash begins tentatively as I tie back my hair and pull on my shoes. “What did you mean, when you said Lark wanted you all to herself?” His voice is so careful, as if he’s afraid of the question, and even more afraid of the answer.

  Oh, great Earth, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t realize.

  “Ash, I’m sorry.” I didn’t think it was possible for me to feel any more awful, but I do. “I know you have feelings for Lark, but . . .” How can I say it gently but without leaving him in any doubt? “She loves me,” I say at last, simple and stark and unequivocal.

  He stares at me. He knew it was coming, I can tell. He must have seen it in the way Lark looks at me, heard it in her voice. Still, he seems taken aback.

  “Are . . . are you sure? I know she likes you. A lot. I just thought . . .” His voice breaks, and he clears his throat to pull himself together. It ends up with him coughing.

  “I’m sorry,” I say again, miserably. I don’t know what to do. How can I be responsible for someone else’s feelings—his or Lark’s? All the same, I feel sick and guilty.

  “Do you love her back?” he asks.

  How can I even answer that question? Even Rowan didn’t know, really, and I’ve only just become her again. And the Yarrow in me still has guilty flashes when she—I—view Lark as an outer circle intruder into my elite life. I’m not proud of those thoughts, but they come unbidden. I have to study every thought that pops into my head, trying to figure out if it is really mine. Rowan’s. But Ash needs an answer. “I . . . I think so. I don’t know.”

  “What about Lachlan?” His tone is a little defensive now, a little sarcastic. “Do you love him, too? I know how he feels about you.”

  I sigh. “The same answer. I think so. I don’t know.”

  “So you get two people who love you, and I get . . . no one.”

  “You have plenty of people who love you!” I say, even though I know it’s not what he wants to hear right now.

  “It’s not the same,” he says. “I’ve liked Lark for so long. We’re so close, we talk about everything. Well,” he adds with a mirthless laugh, “obviously not ever
ything. I like her so much, Rowan. I love her. I can’t help it! What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing, you’re perfect.”

  “Just not for Lark.”

  “She loves you, I know she does. Just . . . not like that. I don’t know if she could love a boy in that way.”

  “And you?” he asks, curious now.

  “Oh Ash, I honestly don’t know how to answer!” I tell him. “For sixteen years, I didn’t meet anyone but you and Mom . . . and our father.” Just thinking of him fills me with bitterness. “I didn’t know anything about people, how to be with them, how to be friends or how to love them or anything. I met Lark, and I thought she was the most wonderful person I’d ever met. But she already felt like my best friend, because she was your best friend, and you told me so much about her. When I finally met Lark, it felt like the conclusion of a story I’d been telling myself for years!”

  “And when you met Lachlan?”

  I chuckle. “He was the first second child I ever met, and that made a strong bond between us, instantly. Beyond that . . . he made me angry, and confused, and excited. Usually all at once! He made me feel like life was an adventure, but that with him I’d be safe. Loving Lark was quiet, expected, wonderful. Loving Lachlan was like a thunderstorm, an earthquake. And also wonderful.”

  I’ve said it now. I love them both.

  Ash hangs his head. I think he may be fighting back tears. In a moment, though, he pulls himself together and looks up at me, smiling. “I’m happy for you, my cockeyed sister.”

  I gape at him, then realize that if he’s teasing me, he’s going to be okay. So I revert to our old brother-sister relationship and punch him in the shoulder.

  “Ow!” He says, rubbing his arm. “I mean it, sis! I want you to be happy. One of us should be.” I shoot him a look. “Sorry, sorry, that’s uncalled for. So, in love with two people, eh? What are you going to do about that?”

  “I have no idea,” I admit. “But right now, I have to apologize to Lark. And then go and find Lachlan.”

  “Too bikking right,” Ash says. “Otherwise, the only one left who will love you is your boring old brother.”

  He’s trying so hard to act like he’s okay, but as I leave I can hear him sigh.

  I enter Lark’s room without knocking. I’m afraid if she knows it’s me, she won’t let me in.

  “Lark, I’m so sorry,” I say immediately, then stop. She’s packing things into a satchel. “No! You can’t leave! I was stupid, I admit it. So very stupid. I don’t know what came over me. It wasn’t me—it was Yarrow. That sounds like an excuse, but I swear as I was saying it I didn’t mean it. I tried to bite it back and I couldn’t. It was like Rowan was just watching Yarrow mess everything up.” I’m talking all in a rush, desperate for her forgiveness. “Please forgive me. Please don’t leave the Underground. I . . . I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “I’m not going,” she says, and I beam.

  “Does that mean you forgive me?”

  “It means I’m not abandoning you—all of you, the second children. I’m going to search for Lachlan.”

  “I am, too!”

  “No” she says firmly. “You just got out of surgery. What’s more, Center officials are probably looking for you all over Eden. I’m not on their radar. I’ll be safe. You need to stay here.” She swallows hard, and adds, “Don’t worry, I’ll get Lachlan back for you.”

  “I can’t lose both of you!” I cry. “And it’s not your job to get Lachlan back . . . for me. Oh Lark, I’m so confused!”

  Before I can start to weep, she has her arms around me. “It’s okay, Rowan. It’s not your fault. Hey, I like Lachlan, too. He’s a wonderful guy, and the two of you . . .” She makes a little hiccuping sound. “If you love him, I’m happy for you.”

  “I love you both,” I say starkly. It feels easier to say the second time.

  “I . . . Okay. Well, that’s . . .”

  I start to laugh, I can’t help it. “That’s messed up, that’s what it is!” I say. Then I shrug helplessly. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

  “Well, let’s ask Lachlan.” She tosses me a tightly compressed package.

  “What’s this?”

  “A survival suit. There are hundreds of them stored deep in the cave system. This place was originally meant to be used if the conditions were too harsh to survive on the surface, even with Eden’s atmospheric shields and climate control. They’re meant to keep people safe in extreme temperatures, radiation, toxins—all the stuff we killed the Earth with.”

  “But they’re so old. Do they still work?”

  “They should, in theory,” she says. “Only one way to find out.” I pack my survival suit in her bag and together we leave. We’ll sneak out and find Lachlan.

  Ash catches us before we do. His eyes are a little red, but he’s carrying a pack and looks excited and eager. “You’re not leaving me behind.”

  “No way,” I say. “I went to too much trouble to save you. I’m not going to risk you getting hurt, or captured again. And with your lung condition you’re less likely to survive as long in the desert, if the suits fail or anything goes wrong.”

  “My lungs have been a lot better since I came down here. The air seems cleaner, or maybe it’s something about the tree.” He takes a deep, full breath. The sharp smell of camphor is all around us from the huge, fragrant tree. “I’ll be fine. You can’t keep me from going with you. I’m tired of being treated like the victim. I want to be the one doing the rescuing for a change. And I am the older sibling,” he adds with a grin.

  He’s not, but I won’t tell him that. He’s had enough heartbreak for one day.

  “Okay,” I say with a resigned sigh. “But be careful. And if I say run—you run!”

  “IF YOU HADN’T agreed to let me go with you, I had one more card to play,” Ash tells us as we make our way carefully to one of the exits. We’re doing our best to look nonchalant, but as three of the newest, and therefore most interesting, people in the Underground, we have all eyes on us. We have to walk aimlessly around for a long time before we manage to get to an exit unseen.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  He holds out a little case. It sloshes when I shake it. “I swiped it from Flame’s bag when she was doing your surgery. It’s a pair of the temporary lenses she makes for the second children when they have to go to the surface.”

  “Who will it say I am if I’m scanned?” I ask.

  “It’s programmed to initially read as a glitch. The scanners and bots don’t always get a clear read, so if you just get caught in a neighborhood sweep or random scan, it will tell them that you’re an official citizen, but not who you are. Then it’s programmed to give a false identity on the second scan, like if you’re actually stopped and individually questioned. Glitch mode is usually enough to get someone by, they say.” He winks at me as he holds up a little pocket mirror for me to fit the lens over my naturally colored eye. “The Center doesn’t know how dangerous you second children are!”

  When he moves to put the mirror away, I grab his wrist. I feel like I’m meeting myself anew every time I see my own image. Who am I now? I look like Yarrow, and seeing myself with the flat silvery-gray eyes makes me feel more like her again. I should probably wish that she was gone, thoroughly eradicated from my memory. But I almost miss her. She was me, in my mind anyway.

  The lens dims my sight slightly, a disconcerting thing when that’s my only functioning eye. The circuitry must have some effect on my vision in this model. I don’t remember that from the temporary lenses my mom got for me, before she was killed. With my flattened depth perception and the slight blur to my vision I feel very vulnerable as we make our way to the surface.

  I trust Lark and Ash with my life. Still, like Lachlan, I feel it should only be me taking the risk. I saw the oasis, the fertile land where
everyone expected desert. It should be me who goes looking for it again. Of course, with my messed-up brain, no one quite believes me. I think maybe even Lark and Ash believe me more out of loyalty than an actual rational conviction that I saw the forest. So really, someone other than me needs to see it. If Lachlan comes back with a tale of trees and flowers and birds, they’ll believe him.

  I remember walking with Lark at night on the streets of Eden. Such glorious nights of freedom and new experiences! I was afraid the whole time, but giddy with excitement and the joy of discovery. Now I’ve experienced life as a fugitive, and as a legitimate member of society. I find I still walk with Yarrow’s confidence, the assurance of a pampered, sheltered, rich girl, whose status will always protect her. Though I’m the one in the most danger, with the most to lose, I find I’m moving with more confidence than either my brother or Lark. Ash is new to this kind of adventure. And even Lark, who has been doing clandestine missions around Eden for years, seems nervous today. Maybe it is the residue from our emotional talk.

  Since the journey is long, we risk the autoloop. Lark pays our fare with a flash of her lenses. There’s a tense moment when a couple of Greenshirts on patrol come on board right behind us. At first I’m afraid that Lark has been flagged. But they sit far away from us and seem more concerned with catching up on their sleep during the ride, than looking for second children or escaped prisoners.

  When they get off a few stops before ours, Lark explains in a whisper that she shouldn’t be on any of the Center’s lists. “I forged a letter from my parents, saying that they were withdrawing me from school for a week while I recovered from the trauma of my friend’s attempted suicide.”

  “Sorry,” she adds when my eyes go wide. “You know the Oaks administration. They hate scandal, and the thought that any of the Oaks parents might know about the drugs and bullying and suicide risk made them bend over backwards to accommodate me. And of course my parents think I’m still at Oaks. I figure at least one of us needs to be completely legitimate.”