Chapter Thirty-Two

Caleb

Perfecta led me through the building in tight-lipped silence, taking long, quick strides that threatened to leave me behind, despite the fact that I was several inches taller than her. As we rode up an elevator and traveled down a wide corridor, I found myself memorizing our path. Why, I don't know. Somehow, at the time, it seemed vaguely important.

Finally, she stopped in front of an unmarked door and slid a card through a scanner beside it. Without a faint, familiar whir, it slid open. Perfecta stalked forward quickly, without waiting for me. I had to dive forward about ten feet in order to catch the door before it closed again. But the movement was surprisingly easy, and I managed to land on my feet.

The space was small, but every available section of wall had a computer monitor mounted on it. Perfecta sat down at the desk lining the far wall and motioned for me to take the chair beside hers. She then turned to the computer closest to her, one that was a little bigger than the others, and pressed a button on its side.

Immediately, all however-many-hundred monitors came to life. Each showed a different picture, of a hallway or a room, some empty and some milling with Superiors.

"This is the center for all the security cameras," Perfecta stated in a monotone.

"Oh," I replied. When she said nothing, I asked, "What are we doing here? Didn't you say you needed to talk to me?"

Perfecta sighed. "Yes, I do." She tilted her head and looked at me solemnly. "Tell me, Caleb. Do you remember me?"

I hesitated. Did I remember her? There was undoubtedly something familiar about her, but the more I fought for the memories, the farther they retreated.

"Yes," I said finally, frowning. "But...no. I know you, but I have no memories of you.

The Superior nodded as if she understood. "Well, Leary's formula isn't perfect," she muttered. "At least this way we have somewhat of a chance of retrieving your memories."

"What?" I began, but Perfecta held up a hand.

"Just watch this," she said, tapping at the screen in front of her. "It might bring things back to you."

I waited, and after a moment, a video began to play. The picture showed Miracle in her office, with her lounging on a chair with her feet propped on the desk. Her beauty left me speechless, even on camera. A knock echoed, and for a second I turned around, thinking it came from the door behind me. But the sound was projecting from the speakers built into the sides of the monitor.

"Come in," Miracle called, her face tilted up slightly, exposing a secretive smile on her lips. In the bottom left corner of the screen, I saw the top of the door being pushed open.

"Hey, Miracle," a familiar voice greeted. It was male, and I recognized it instantly as the Superior I had met only moments before.

"Hello, Champion." Miracle waved her fingers daintily.

"Please, sit," she said, and Champion did so, looking much too comfortable in the velveteen chair. "I wanted to talk to you about the newcomer."

"You said he's woken up?" Champion asked.

"Yes, just this morning. The alterations were successful. He is now a full Superior."

"That's great news." He smiled slightly.

"So now," Miracle continued, "I need you to keep him occupied. You know about his...anarchistic tendencies, of course. I wanted someone capable to make sure that he stays out of trouble." As she spoke those words, Miracle slid her fingers along the desk toward Champion. He watched her movement, his hands twitching slightly.

"Why me, though?" Champion asked quietly, his eyebrows pulled together. "Didn't you say that I'd remind him of someone he once knew?"

Miracle pulled away and pouted. "I did. But his memories seem to be gone now, and I can almost guarantee that he won't find any familiarity in you."

There was silence for a moment, as Champion picked at the upholstery of his arm chair, looking uncertain.

"If you're sure," he replied finally.

"But of course." Miracle smirked. "You're the only one I trust for the job."

I watched, horrified, as she leaned across the desk until her face was inches apart from Champion's. Without expression, he closed the gap. They kissed, and it seemed like their lips were pressed together for so long that any normal person would have suffocated. By the time they finally pulled away, I was ready to heave up the contents of my stomach.

Miracle's mouth began to open, as if she were about to say something, but Perfecta's hand covered the screen before I could hear the response. She tapped the pause button, and the video froze.

"I—I don't understand," I said hoarsely, licking my suddenly dry lips.

"Do you know who that was?" Perfecta asked. She peered at me carefully as I stared straight ahead, my head spinning in a whirlwind.

"Champion. And Miracle. Perfecta, I don't understand why you showed me—"

"That's your brother," she blurted.

I stared at her in confusion. "My brother," I repeated. "My brother?" Laughing uneasily, I shook my head. "Perfecta, I don't have a brother."

"Yes, you do," she insisted. "You have a brother, and parents, and friends back in Seattle, Washington, all the way across the country."

I frowned. "Don't be silly. I live in the Capitol. I've lived in the Capitol for my entire..." I trailed off.

Perfecta looked at me knowingly. "Your entire life?" Her tone was sympathetic, but her eyes were hard. "Tell me, Caleb. What exactly do you remember about your life?"

"I don't remember," I murmured. "I was in an accident. My memories are gone."

"That's what she told you." With a fierce, serious look, Perfecta leaned toward me. "There was no 'accident' Caleb. None of this was an accident. You were brought here, to the Capitol, on charges of heresy and disloyalty, but you were a special case. You were never meant to be punished, because Miracle wanted you for herself. Just like she wanted your brother, once upon a time."

Perfecta paused, took a breath, then continued. "She tricked you; she told you that you would be able to see your brother again, if you became a Superior. You refused, but she changed you anyway and wiped all of your memories. All of them. Just like she's done to countless others," she finished in a hateful mutter.

I leaned back in my seat, floored by this sudden wave of information. Perfecta couldn't be right. I knew one thing for certain, and it was that I was Superior. I had always been Superior. Miracle—beautiful, perfect Miracle—wasn't lying. She'd never lie to me; not now, not ever.

I must have said the words aloud, because Perfecta laughed.

"You're even more naïve than before, Caleb," she told me, almost sadly. "But...I think I might have something to convince you."

"Nothing will convince me," I said scathingly.

She smirked. "We'll see about that."

I crossed my arms as Perfecta shook out her hair and tapped on the screen once again, sending another video to the screen. This one was set in a dark room, with only a metal table in its center. Miracle sat on one side, glancing up at the camera. Another figure, this one masculine, was across from her, but his face was shrouded by shadows. Perfecta pressed play.

"So, what do you say?" Miracle asked, her voice velvety smooth even with the grainy quality of the speakers.

The male figure shook his head. "Never."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely certain," the guy affirmed. His voice sounded vaguely familiar, though I couldn't say where I'd heard it before.

Miracle pouted. "And that's your final answer?"

"I'm sorry to say that it is."

There was fizzy silence for a moment as Miracle ran a hand through her hair, her lips pursed and her eyes flashing. The second figure looked away from the camera even more. I saw his hands quiver slightly.

Finally, with a sigh, Miracle murmured, "Do you remember how I told you that the choice in this matter is not yours?"

The figure stiffened. "I do."

Miracle leaned forward, smiling slightly. "That still stands," she hissed.

With a sudden jerk, the figure pushed back from the desk, his chair scratching loudly across the concrete ground. He was looking down now, with his hands clenched around the arms of his chair.

"You wouldn't do this."

"Wouldn't I?"

At that, the figure turned his face to the camera, clenching his teeth. I inhaled sharply.

"Face it, Caleb," Miracle purred, examining her nails. "You're going to become a Superior, whether you like it or not."

Perfecta's hand moved quickly to stop the tape, and the room was abruptly silent. I felt her eyes on me, imploring and hopeful, but I found myself unable to return the gaze. I was frozen in my seat, gaping, and fighting yet another bout of dizziness.

It was me in that video. Me. A younger, smaller me, but me all the same. And Miracle's words, her cold, cunning tone—it was so unlike her. Was that the real her? Was Perfecta perhaps telling the truth? If she was, that would explain the familiarity of Charisma, of Champion, and of Perfecta herself. It would explain the nagging feeling at the back of my mind, the inkling of distrust. But it would also leave me with nothing. Everything solid in my mind would be questioned.

Everything.

"I don't understand," I breathed, shaking my head slowly. Perfecta sighed, then, after a moment of hesitation, reached out and patted my arm awkwardly.

"You were smart before this, Caleb," she said quietly. "And that means that, as a Superior, you're even smarter now. You have to realize now that I am telling the truth, that Miracle is a liar."

My voice quavered as I replied, "I know. I understand. But..." I squeezed my eyes shut as I fought for the words. But in my mind, there was only emptiness, only foggy unknowing, uncertainty, and disbelief. I wanted to tell Perfecta that while I understood Miracle's lies, there was still so much that I didn't understand. There was so much that I didn't—couldn't—remember. I didn't know how to say it. And I never got the chance.

"I'm afraid that's all the time we have for now," Perfecta said abruptly. After a few more taps to the computer screen, she stood up.

"What do you mean?" I demanded, pushing away the confusion that threatened to drown me.

"We've been here too long already," she murmured, as if speaking to herself. "They'll be suspicious." Then, to me, "I wish I could explain more, but there simply isn't time."

"I—"

But she held up a hand, cutting me off. "There's much on looming on the horizon, Caleb, and there are important things that we need you to know. That, unfortunately, is all I can say right now. However, a woman named Nessa Knowles will be in to see you soon. The name should sound familiar. Wait for her. She'll explain everything."