I ZOOM INTO THE ROOM, nearly crashing into Tadrien on his way out. I didn’t dare believe that my scheme with Mistress Ydaya would work, especially after I was caught at the reeducation center. I thought she’d disregard everything I once said to her, and for the past several days, I’ve been worrying about how I might never see Milo again.
Milo stands and faces me. “Iris?”
I run up to him, flooded with relief and happiness. “You remember me!” I throw my arms around him. “I was so worried you wouldn’t.”
“What can I say?” He releases me, and a grin lights his face. “You’re unforgettable.”
Someone makes a disgusted noise. I turn to find Cara standing beside me. She wrinkles her nose. “You know, I had something to do with that too.” She glances at me. “Your pretty pal here arrived this morning. Normally, I would’ve watched him for a few days, like I did with you, to make sure he was trustworthy before letting him in on all this.” She points up and twirls her finger to indicate the hideout. “But the longer things stay forgotten, the harder it is to remember them, right? So I hounded him with your name and picture until he remembered you.” She crosses her arms. “You’re welcome.”
I give her a grateful smile. She’s the reason I’ve now found both Dámiul and Milo again, and I’ve never even told her how much I appreciate everything she’s done. “I don’t know how to thank you. If it weren’t for you—”
“Yeah, yeah.” Cara rolls her eyes. “I only did it because reuniting you guys is another little triumph over the system, and I happen to like winning. You know what my name means in Italian? ‘Sweet victory.’”
She smirks and glances at Milo, but he doesn’t seem to have heard anything she said.
He stares at me with a look of disbelief. “Of all the patrons who could have chosen me… I can’t believe we ended up in the same place.”
Cara raises her eyebrow. “It’s not a coincidence, you know. I mean, it’s pretty freaking convenient, but it wasn’t all fate or destiny or whatever the hell other magical forces you think it is. Nah, it was good old bargain hunting. Mistress Ydaya wanted to claim you before the next Spectacle, in case you ended up doing something amazing and your price spiked like Iris’s did.”
Despite what she said, I take a moment to appreciate all my good fortune. If Mistress Ydaya hadn’t already been thinking of getting ballet dancers, if Master Ydaya hadn’t been concerned about costs, if they hadn’t bought me in the first place and I hadn’t met Cara… It hits me how lucky I’ve been, and how easily my story—and Milo’s, and Dámiul’s, and maybe even Cara’s, if she’d gone through with her mission—could have ended tragically.
“I missed you.” Those words seem too small to convey all the longing I felt in Milo’s absence. I need to find something else to talk about, or I might break down and sob about all the anxiety I went through when I thought I might have lost him. My gaze falls on the hologram of Papilio projecting from the table. “It looks like you were right about Papilio’s injustice.”
Cara pulls out a chair and plops down. “Holy shit, you should have seen him when he first arrived at the Ydayas’. He kept going on about how wrong everything seemed, and even when he wasn’t talking, he had this shifty look about him. If I hadn’t slipped him a Grámed device within five minutes of meeting him, Puna would have wiped his entire mind by now.” She spreads her arms. “Again, you’re welcome.”
Milo shoots Cara an exasperated look. “Thank you, okay? How many times are you going to make me say it before you’ll leave me alone?”
Cara shrugs. “Hey, if it weren’t for me, you’d be a complacent little slave with no memory of darling Iris. Just saying.”
“Thank you, Cara,” I say, wishing I had some way of repaying her.
She leans back in her chair. “Whatever.”
I put my hand on Milo’s arm. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you again.”
Milo’s eyes warm. “Likewise. You’re the only reason I made it. I was so ready to drop out, but after you left, I realized the only way I might see you again was if I found a patron too. So I stayed. Rankings and employers weren’t worth killing myself over, but you were.” He takes my hand.
For a moment, I just look into his familiar, friendly gray eyes, wondering what—if anything—he’s trying to tell me.
Cara stands so quickly her chair rattles, and the sound draws my attention back to my surroundings. She grimaces at Milo. “You could at least find a private corner or something before confessing your feelings.”
Milo releases my hand and throws Cara a look of irritation. A scornful attitude radiates from her as she marches out the door.
“How did you ever live with her?” Milo stares after her. “I’ve known her for one day, and I want to wring her neck already!”
“If it weren’t for her, I’d be a stranger to you.” I think back to my first moments on Adrye, when my best friend was only a nameless face to me.
Milo’s expression sobers. “You’re right. You know, she also harangued me about my family. Pushed me so hard, I almost wanted to hit her. But it worked. I remember my parents and Alice, though my head felt ready to split in half by the time Cara was done with me.”
I can only imagine how much yelling must have been involved in that scene. It does seem odd that Cara would work so hard to help someone she doesn’t even know. Then again, she hates injustice more than anything, and I told her previously that Milo has a family on Earth. “I guess that’s her way of fighting what’s being done to us.”
“A noble cause.” Milo speaks with exaggerated grandeur. “But does she have to be so annoying about it?”
Footsteps approach from the direction of the door, and I turn to find Dámiul striding into the room.
Relieved that he’s no longer confined to the pod, which must mean he’s recovering well, I smile. “You’re up!”
Milo elbows me lightly. “Is this your alien friend?”
I nod, then look at Dámiul. “Dámiul, this is Milo.”
Dámiul glances at Milo. “I remember you telling me about him.”
I approach. “How are you doing?”
“Yandria says I shouldn’t use my telepathy for at least two months, but otherwise, I’m all right, as long as I don’t do anything extreme.” He gives a slight smile, but there’s something sad in his eyes.
Before I can ask what’s wrong, Atikéa walks into the room. “I’m glad you’re awake, Dámiul.” She approaches the table and motions for him to follow. “I have something you need to see. Actually, I have two things. Iris, you might want to see them too.” She glances at Milo. “You’re new, aren’t you?”
“Yup.” Cara reenters, responding before Milo can. “Just brought him here.”
“I see. You don’t have to stay for this,” Atikéa says to Milo. “You can if you want, but you probably won’t find it interesting.”
Milo shrugs and grabs a chair. “I’ll stay.”
I take the chair next to him, but keep my gaze on Dámiul. I’m glad to see that his eyes have regained their energy, but I wonder what the troubled look on his face means.
Atikéa glances at the screen, and Cara takes a seat next to her. A hologram of Jaerin appears in the center of the table. Dámiul stares at it. The furrows between his brows deepen, and I realize what’s upsetting him. Of course, he’s worried about his brother.
“Jaerin recorded this right before the prison break.” Atikéa glances at the screen again, and the hologram animates.
“Tra’kel, dáven teris.” In the recording, Jaerin smiles sadly. I don’t need the subtitles to understand the words: “Hello, little brother.”
Jaerin speaks in a measured voice. I can make out most of the words, but I read the subtitles anyway to make sure I don’t misunderstand him.
“I know you’re upset with me, and I’m sorry I had to do things this way.” Jaerin sighs. “Please understand, this plan was the closest I could come to guaranteeing your safety. If I don’t remember anything from the past four years, there’s no way they can use me to find and arrest the underground members of the Abolition—or recapture you. You’re probably wondering why I would rescue you from a place that stole memories, only to suffer the same fate myself. The answer is simple: Because I love you, little brother.”
The look on Jaerin’s face turns stern. “Whatever happens, do not try to make contact with me. It would be too much of a risk. Erasing four years of memories won’t change who I am. I’ll be confused for a period of time, but I’m sure I’ll eventually rediscover the cause and find the Abolition again on my own. Until then, I’m afraid I can’t help you anymore. Good luck, and when we meet again, I hope you can forgive me.”
The hologram flickers out. Dámiul’s expression doesn’t change.
Atikéa turns to him. “Jaerin left me a similar message. He’s not gone, Dámiul. Just absent.”
Dámiul nods slowly. “Do you know where he is now?”
“Yes. That’s the second thing I want to show you.” Atikéa narrows her eyes at the screen, and another hologram appears.
Master Verik stands behind Jaerin and speaks firmly in Adryil. Beside him, Jaerin looks from side to side, as though puzzled by everything around him. I read the captions to see what Master Verik is saying.
“I am appalled by what happened at the reeducation center a few nights ago.” He places his hand on Jaerin’s shoulder. “However, my son is not to be blamed for the actions of others. As evidenced by the implants discovered in his head after he was found wandering the facility in a dazed state, he was never a part of the criminal group that broke Dámiul out. They used technology meant to reeducate the criminally minded to control him, and then wiped his memory so he wouldn’t be able to name his attackers. I’m sure the courts will come to the same conclusion. As for Dámiul—I’m ashamed that I ever called him my son.”
The hologram switches to that of a female reporter. I don’t pay attention to her summary of the events that happened at the reeducation center. Instead, I turn to Dámiul. “Jaerin’s all right, at least. Master Verik seems very protective of him.”
“I’m glad.” Dámiul’s tone is flat, and he doesn’t look at me.
I run through the possible things I can say, but none of them seem adequate. How do you comfort someone whose father told the world that he doesn’t want you anymore?
My own face appears on the holovid, and I look up with a start. The captions say that I’m an unfortunate Ka’risil who must have been brainwashed by the Abolitionists.
Mistress Ydaya’s distressed face fills the holovid. “Iris was a curious little Ka’risil, and the criminals must have used that against her. I wish I’d watched her more closely. I know the policy for rogue Ka’risil, but I hope the courts will be more lenient in her case and let her return to me. I miss my charming little violist.”
She speaks of me like I’m a lost pet, but there’s genuine concern in her voice. I feel a slight twinge of guilt. The Ydayas did take good care of me. I may not have had freedom, but I can’t complain about how I was treated. My room there was certainly more comfortable than the one I’m living in now, and I enjoyed the pleasure of performing so often. If she were a true patron, an employer who allowed me freedom, I would gladly play for her.
Atikéa stops the holovid. “That’s the world’s reaction to what happened. The Abolitionists are a criminal underground organization who brainwashed and used an upstanding young man to break a delinquent out of jail. And Iris is an innocent little Ka’risil, also brainwashed and used. That’s good for them, I guess, since it means Jaerin’s not in trouble with the law, and getting Iris back to the Ydayas won’t be much of a problem once I find a device that can block telepathy without being detected. But not so good for the Abolitionists. According to them, we’re monsters.” She stands. “Before, we were just outspoken activists. Now, we’ve committed an actual crime.”
“This is my fault.” Dámiul’s voice is low.
“Don’t you dare talk like that,” Atikéa snaps. “Guilt won’t do you any good. This is a setback, but it won’t deter us. Jaerin and I had two goals for the Abolition: inform as many Ka’risil of the truth as possible, and persuade those who sympathize with us to speak up. Remember, just because people aren’t willing to join an underground movement doesn’t mean they don’t believe as we do. If we can get one of the more influential silent sympathizers to go public, more will follow.”
She walks around the table. Dámiul follows her out of the room. I get up, aiming to talk to him, but stop when he calls Atikéa’s name.
I feel a light smack on my arm and turn to see Cara.
“Hey, want to help me explain this crazy planet to Clueless here?” Cara points her thumb at Milo, who looks like he’s trying very hard not to make a face at her.
I turn to look at Dámiul, who asks Atikéa in Adryil to tell him more about the Abolition. I suppose that’s more important than anything I have to say. “Sure.”
Atikéa leads Dámiul into a room, and the door closes behind them. He needs to know more about everything that’s going on, and I shouldn’t interrupt. Meanwhile, Milo just arrived on Adrye, and he needs to know more about what it’s like here. And Cara needs my help explaining everything, if for no other reason than to act as a buffer between her and Milo. I don’t understand how two people who just met can irritate each other so much.
What about what I need? If Cara had opened the door to the med room a minute later, I would have told Dámiul that I love him, and all this miserable uncertainty would be over.
Come on, Iris, I chastise myself. There’ll be another moment.
I turn to the table. Cara presses something on the screen, and a hologram of Nathril appears. I point to the buildings and start describing them for Milo, as Dámiul once did for me.