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19.1

《Red, Black and White》

¤

It feels like I've lived, and died, a thousand times over while trapped in the Blackhole's darkness. I'd shed tears until I had no more to cry, only to find out that I still had some deep inside me and I'd pushed those out.

I mauled over Keran's death. Feeling sad, outraged, betrayed. She'd left us to scope out the area and then she'd abandoned us, gotten herself killed.

I tried to make things easier on myself -- boy, was that bullshit -- by telling myself that I hated Keran, and I had, most of the time, but there'd been something about her I respected, nearly liked. She was tough and could sniff out shit from a mile away. She approached certain people with a softness that belied her age — Ellie came to mind here.

And Keran had fixed me up...then punched me in the stomach. I shouldn't care about her death, but then again, if I didn't, if I'd been so hardened to this shit that I came out of everything unaffected, I'd be just like Dove had hoped. Logical and cold. The perfect Councilor who was able to make the tough calls and condemn whole nations to death.

I cried some more after these thoughts entered my mind. 

By the time the van stops rocking and the whir of the engine cuts out and I hear footsteps outside, I'd been truly emptied of everything I could give. I'd mourned for every aspect of Keran: the girl I didn't like, the Lieutenant that scared me shitless, the child I glimpsed when her veneer cracked, the loyalist, the idealist, the fool. 

Someone grabs me by the back of my neck and yanks me off the metal bench. With nothing left, I follow blindly. Thankfully, whoever leads me out of the van -- judging by the lack of nails digging into my flesh, it's a safe bet that whoever it is, isn't Masters --  is careful I don't fall.

"Step here," the voice commands.

Fingers tighten around my arm, but the movement's more protective than forceful. I step down and once I  touch the ground, the bag is ripped off my head. The guard, a dark-skinned man with honey-colored eyes gives me a nod before shuffling off to a group of his peers standing guard next to two immense wooden doors.

The room is dizzingly bright - a kaleidoscope of light falls through the glass ceiling, splashing color on the walls and floor. A raised dais extends the width of the back wall on which sits a large table and ten, high-backed chairs. Adornments of gold molded to resemble our country's symbol clutch the armrests with their talons, wings spread as if readying to take flight. I go rigid at the sight.

We'd been brought to the heart of it all, the place where we'd meet our death, one way or another: the Council's Inner Chamber.

Stripped of the swells of people and camera drones crammed inside its wall for press conferences or daily testimonials, the room looked different, felt different, despondent and bleak despite the beauty of so much polished marble and opulent gold trimming.

Marava, Quint and Sin stand beside me, equally mesmerized by the sight. Relief washes over me as I watch Sin, red-face and bleary-eyed, standing upright by himself. He'd been give a good shock, maybe a level Four, but the ride over seems to have roused him back into being a capable, functioning human being.

"Ten," Quint whispers. I arch my brows. "Look up." He points toward the glass ceiling. It was impressive, sure, but so was the rest of the room and no one'd been fawning over--"The sunlight's real," he says, his tone one of hushed reverence.

Even though it couldn't be possible, even though I knew the sunlight inside every Aviary was artificial I decide to indulge Quint and look up. A swath of wide, open blue greets me. There's no trademark holo-flicker from when dust gets on the eye lens or when the picture grows bad due to poor connectivity, just a brilliant sea of sky overhead. My mouth follows those of the others, and flops open.  Momentarily forgetting about the DEC shackled to my wrists, I raise my arms and wipe at my eyes. Surely, it was another lie. After all, lies were all the Council perpetrated—

"It's lovely." An unfamiliar voice echoes throughout the chamber.

Though I could stand and stare at the sky for ages, I force myself to turn. On the far side of the room, a woman sashays down the dais, dressed in an all-white robe that flutters around her ankles. Sunlight glints off a bejeweled headdress woven through a tumble of brown curls. Her green eyes gaze on me sweetly, her full lips, smiling. "I always like it when we open the dome and let the real thing in." My heart plummets and all the air feels as though its left me. "Doesn't happen very often, but I persuaded my colleagues to indulge me just this once. After all," she nods toward us. My chest constricts. "Today's a special occassion." Or an execution, I wanted to add.

Was this the Council's one act of kindness? To let us see the sky before we were sentenced to hang?

The image of Izzer's imposter dangling from the rope comes back to me. His body had twitched long after his neck had snapped. At the time, I'd thought it odd for your body to carry on seconds after you'd left it. Would that be me? I can't breathe and it's as though the noose is already strangling me.

The woman, who'd I recognize anywhere as Councilor Mercado, smiles which makes my blood ice over. "It's good to see my reputation precedes me," she flips a lock of hair behind her and while continuing to smile, adds, "Welcome to the Inner Chamber, potentials."

I shove my hands in my pockets in a vain attempt to hide the fact I've begun to shake. Mercado was by no means a benevolent ruler. From up on high, she'd sentenced thousands to death during her reign and had delighted in all the slaughter. She'd undoubtedly enjoy watching us die, hearing the snaps of our necks and seeing our bodies sway and pale.

But for now, she'd hidden her blood lust underneath her Councilor's veneer, greeting us as though we were long-lost friends here for an amiable gathering.

She glides toward us, her robes sweeping out behind her that others might see as regal though what I see is a devil striding over the corpses they'd made in their lifetime, eyes giddy to add another to the pile. "Well, don't just stand there, gaping," she says, motioning for me to come to her. I stiffen. "You speak when spoken to." My tongue feels thick and heavy in my mouth, useless. 

Her gaze runs the length of me, lingering on the frizzy mess my hair's become. Her smile slips into a frown."Ah," she says, "You must be Ten."

I nod. The tiny beads in her hair jingle as she tosses her head back. "It's clear manners weren't apart of this year's curriculum. I'll have to bring this to the Council's attention."

"Why?" I blurt out. "The Facility's destroyed. Who needs curriculum when you've got no teachers to teach it?" Mercado's head swivels toward me, her eyes slightly wide. I gulp. Me and my dumb mouth. Really, when had I become the Tujo of our group?

Her lips pull back as she hunches forward, taking on a more animalistic appearance. "I see," she says. Both words drip off her tongue.

"Now, Evelyn--" Behind Mercado, a man strides into the room, dressed in identical robes. His hair is coiffed away from his angular face, his jaw set, eyes narrowed in focus. "--we were instructed to wait." He gaze meets mine briefly, coaxing a frown to worsen the wrinkles around his mouth, before returning to Mercado.

To my surprise, Mercado, turns sheepish, her fingers tugging on the sleeve of her robe. Grimacing, she says,"I wanted to greet the Potentials."

Councilor Finn, with a nose as wide and red as a tomato, surprises me. He looks more haggard in person. In all the vids I'd watched of him, he gave off a jubilant if not haughty presence. In here, it looks as though age had been unkind. He's deflated and weathered. Blue veins bulge underneath paper-thin skin.

His steely gaze darts from Mercado to us, where he gives each of us a one-over, his frown ever worsening. "They're quite..." he sniffs and juts out his lower lip. "Underwhelming." Mercado frowns. "No wonder we've had such problems with this batch." His gaze drifts back to Quint before he again turns away from us. 

"I think they did wonderfully."

A spritely woman, a good two feet shorter than the others, bounds down the stairs, a blond ponytail flapping out behind her. She swims in her robes, much like a child playing dress up with their mother's clothes. I'd done that once, slipping my feet into her favorite pair of shoes and being unable to imagine my feet getting to be as big. She'd been like a giant to me back then, invincible and infallible. But then she'd been put down, much like Keran had. 

Finn folds his arms over his chest. "Do you have to dance into nearly every room you enter, O'Mallory?" 

Councilor O'Mallory grins and arcs a brow. "Do you have to be such a miserable bastard all the time?" She sweeps her bangs aside. "I swear, I could own all of Tunisia if I got paid for every one of your rodent-like scowls I had the misfortune of  witnessing." 

Finn's mouth twists into a snarl, and just as he opens it to rebuke her, the familiar voice of Dove booms through the room. "This is the first time our counterparts have met us," he says, spilling from the shadows like darkness given shape. "And you decide to display your bickering?" A chill washes over the room.

O'Mallory stomps her feet like a petulant child, but Dove's presence was like a bucket of cold water splashed over her. In seconds her smile fades and her shoulders slump. "So," she chews her lower lips, her gaze flitting about the room, "Where are the twins?" 

I gulp. What'd she want with Lilly and Tujo?

Dove smiles and motions toward a door to our left. One of the guards opens it, and three more bodies are escorted into the room, their heads covered, wrists wearing DECs. My heart drops out of my chest and I have to bite my lower lip to keep the world from spinning. I ball my hands into fists.

Dove gives me a slight grin as he snaps his fingers. The guards response in seconds, removing the black holes from the new arrivals. Lilly shivers, her eyes glistening with tears as she squints in an effort to reorient to the light. She's soaked through and terrified.

Beside her, Tujo snaps at the hand who removed his bag, his eyes full of anger. The guard returns Tujo's attempted attack with one of his own, ramming the butt of a gun into Tujo's gut. He doubles over as a yelp escapes his lips. Tears run down Lilly's cheeks.

O'Mallory winces and grabs her robes as if she'd been the one to take the hit.

When the last bag is removed all air leaves me. I feel as deflated as Finn looked and I wanted to crumble right there. Nol stares through a curtain of hair, his right eye bruised shut, his lip puffy and red. There's blood dried to his chin and staining his blue overalls.

Refusing to cower and quake in this room, in front of Dove and the rest of the Council, I swallow back my fear and bat the tears away. If they wanted to break me, they'd have to tie the noose first.

Nol doesn't look at me. Maybe he was afraid that if he did something worse would happen, or maybe he didn't want me to see him like that or...

"We finally meet in person, Ten."

Dove strides straight at me, his body cutting a more impressive figure in person than in all the vids. He's notably taller and thick with muscle, but he maneuvered his bulk gracefully as he swept toward me, king of the FUA, ordained by god, himself.

"I've looked forward to this day for so long." He leans over and brushes aside my hair. "Curls," he says, his gaze suddenly distant. I shirk away which causes him to place on his Councilor pants again. He straightens up, his gaze wiped cleaned of whatever longing he might have let slip. 

"I was hoping I would see you on your Graduation," he says, taking a step away from me. Finally, he acknowledges the others. "When we would gather you up and take you here," he waves his arms. "So you could learn all it is we have to teach until it was your time to lead."

"Don't the people vote?" I spit, knowing full well the answer. Dove shoots me a glare. "Oh, right," I say, tossing back my head. "That's just another one of your lies, too. Make them believe they choose their leaders, advertise the shit out of the voting sham you propogate, and then activate all that Sunshine pumping through their veins and tell them how exactly to vote. It's a win-win. They believe democracy is alive and well and you get to carry on your legacy of having Councilors who believe just as you do."

Finn snickers. "She's just like you." 

Dove nods. "I told you. It's not just about environment and nurturing. It's written in the goddamned DNA." 

I flick my gaze between the Councilors.  

Finn shakes his head. "You don't know, do you?" he asks.

O'Mallory folds her arms and harrumphs. "Of course they wouldn't. That's classified information until Graduation." Her gaze flits to Dove. "Though I guess he's making an exception." Her face lights up as she casts an all-knowing look my way. I wish I could slap it off her.

"Not even all of our peers know that truth," Dove says. My eyes widen. What could be so damning that not even the whole Council was aware?

He turns to me, his expression soft. He takes a lock of my hair in his hand and I'm too scared to move. It's like my legs have turned to mush and melded to the floor. "I asked them to make sure you'd have your mother's hair." His fingers tense around my curl. Cologne wafts off him in waves. "I knew it was selfish, but," he smiles. "I always wanted you to take after her. I'm glad you do," his breath tickles my face. "My beloved daughter."

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