Gravity (The Taking) (11 page)

Two hours later, I knock on the door to Law’s house. The all-brick estate home spans the size of three of mine, every element of it custom-built for the Cartiers. His house is set apart from the rest of Process by a gated driveway and thick, intricate fencing looping in metal swirls from the gate all the way around the house. Typically guests have to announce themselves at the gate, and then one of the staff will approve or deny admission. Gretchen and I are the exception. We used to come here all the time growing up, so Law taught us how to rig the gate open and sneak inside without bothering the staff.

Of course we used to call ahead to let him know we were coming. But I can’t worry about that right now. I have to talk to him, to someone, and Jackson isn’t an option right now. Besides, Law is our next president. He would want to know what we’re doing. Then a horrible thought occurs to me—maybe he already does.

His door alarm has already announced me three times, yet no one has come to the door, even though he has a house full of staff. I knock again, this time a touch louder. I’m about to go around to the back when the door flies open.

“What— Ari?” Law says, his face shifting from anger to concern. “Are you all right? What are you doing here?”

“I need your help,” I blurt. “They’re…” I stare at him blankly, wishing I had thought this through. I want to confide in Law. I know he would listen, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t tell anyone. But what if he did? I wait too long, the silence awkward and unbearable, and then finally change the subject and say, “Why are you answering the door? Where is everyone?”

He raises his eyebrows. “They’re all on the lower level preparing for the ball. Now your turn. What do you need my help with? Is it…?” He tilts his head, and I get the feeling he knows something, maybe the same something I know. I can’t be sure.

I draw a long breath, stalling again. What can I say that doesn’t sound completely insane? I don’t even know how much I’m allowed to tell him, separate from the Jackson bit. Dad doesn’t divulge his theories and experiments to President Cartier until they’re fully developed. That much I know.

“Ari?” Lawrence says, pulling me from my thoughts.

I decide to start with the truth. “I had a rough training session today. I just needed to see someone. Sorry to come unannounced.”

He closes the door behind him and leads me to his front steps. “Not at all. But come on, you’re not telling me everything. You seem rattled. There’s no training that could shake you like this, so what’s the real story?”

I stare up at him and all my resolve crashes. He’s not ready for this. To Law, life is still in perfect order. I don’t want to be the one to wreck that for him, at least not yet.

I smile at him, hoping to lighten the mood. “It’s my new trainer, Cybil. She’s intense. I think I just got a little overwhelmed. I’m fine now.”

He studies my face, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “Well, let me walk you home.” The sun has just started to dip behind the trees, mixing orange and yellow hues into the gray sky. Law takes my hand as we pass through his gate and onto the main walk that leads to my house. He’s quiet the entire way, as though he’s enjoying the peacefulness and doesn’t want to complicate things by talking. We reach my house and I’m about to turn to thank him when I feel his hand stiffen in mine.

“Are you okay?” I ask, then, hearing a voice call my name from behind, turn around. Gretchen stands a few yards away. She seems dazed for a second, her eyes darting between Law and me, and then she breaks into a grin and points to my front door.

“Hey, I messaged you earlier,” she says. “Your dress came!” She tugs me away from Law toward my door.

“See you tomorrow,” Law says to me. “See ya, Gretch.” He doesn’t look at her when he says it, and he’s halfway down the auto-walk before I can ask him why he’s acting so weird.

“Okay, look,” Gretchen says, “I know we have Ops testing tomorrow, but promise me you’ll go try it on right now and message me what you think.” She claps her hands together like the whole thing’s too much for her to take.

“Fine.” I pick up the box and dart inside, hoping she doesn’t ask to come in with me. I need to think without anyone around. I enter my room, turn around, and almost shriek.

“Well, go ahead, try it on,” Jackson says as he leans against the wall beside my window, his arms crossed. “I won’t watch. Much.” He breaks into a grin that quickly fades when he notices the look on my face. Seeing Jackson has brought everything back from training. I feel sick. I feel sad. Every emotion swirls through me, and somehow this boy seems to be the only one who can understand.

I allow my eyes to find his. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more stealth? Especially after last night? And you can cut the arrogant-boy act. I know that’s not really you.”

He stares at me for a second. “I took care of that. Or should I say
her
. And I’m not… What happened?” he asks.

“Her? Who…Mackenzie?” I should have guessed that she was the one outside my room listening.

“Forget Kenzie. What happened?”

“I found out what happens in lab three,” I say as I sit my dress box down on the floor. I give him an abbreviated version of my afternoon, including the old woman who will likely cause me nightmares for weeks. Jackson starts forward, his face conflicted, then he stops and backs up against the wall again, crossing his arms. “We’ll figure it out, Ari,” he says.

I look down. “It was terrible. What we’re doing…”

“Hey…” He opens his mouth to say more, but the words catch as his eyes slip over my face. I must look wrecked.

Jackson clears his throat and looks away. “Did you notice anything else? Like what they’re planning to do in those chambers?”

I shake my head; my entire body feels numb, empty. “No, nothing.” I walk over to my bed and sit down, noticing that it’s not quite time for the Taking and wondering what Jackson’s planning to do for the next hour or so.

“I know I’m early. I thought we could…talk. Is it okay if I stay?” he asks, his voice more vulnerable than I’m used to.

I study him. “I guess so,” I say, fumbling with a loose string on the edge of my shirt.

Jackson hesitates, sensing my unease, but eventually slips down beside me, leaning back against my headboard.

We sit in silence for several seconds before I finally say, “Can you tell me about Loge? I’ve always wondered what it’s like. Is it different? The same?”

He glances at me, smiling at the mention of Loge. “It’s beautiful all year round. The sky is a purplish blue; the grass is always green. We have no pollution or trash. And Logians…” He stops for a second, like mentioning them hurts. “They’re pure in every way. Logians, by nature, are nothing like Zeus. Well, nothing like Zeus is now.”

“And what about your family and friends? Do they miss you when you’re away? Do you miss them?”

“I miss my friends every day, some more than others.” He grins. “My family…” he continues, though the tone of his voice has changed, “I love them. I try to please them…but they can be difficult.”

I nod in understanding. I’m not sure I’ll ever truly please Dad. “What about your parents?”

Jackson clears his throat, his eyes finding the wall opposite of us and never leaving. “I don’t have parents. My dad died before I was born and my mom… She didn’t… I wasn’t… She couldn’t keep me.”

“Couldn’t keep you? That’s horrible. Why?” My cheeks burn at my forwardness. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sure it’s personal.”

Jackson reaches around me to check the time. His expression turns playful. “Time for me to Take some of your goodness.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t keep from grinning. “Ha-ha. You really are a jerk, you know that?”

He leans over me. “Is that right?”

I open my mouth to respond with a smart comeback, but close it back. The truth is, I don’t think he’s a jerk. He’s confident, for sure, smart, and ridiculously good in all our trainings. But there’s also something deeper. He cares. I see it in him from time to time, only a brief flicker. And the look on his face when I told him about the old lady—he seemed as upset about it as I did. It’s like he’s putting on a front, something I know all too much about.

The truth is…Ancient or not, I’m starting to think Jackson and I may be more alike than I ever could have guessed.

CHAPTER 10

The next day I stand at my locker, anxious. It’s the first day of Op testing. There are four sections, just as with true Op training—combat, limits, resources, and weaponry. No one knows the order of the testing or how many tests we’ll face each day. The Engineer coordinators may separate them into different days, or we may face all today.

Gretchen walks up quiet and reserved, her face green. “Are you all right?” I ask.

“Yeah, just nervous.”

I rub her shoulder. “You’ve been prepping for this for years. We all have. You’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” she mutters as we slip into the gym.

The class takes a moment to calm down, all of us either jumping with excitement or nerves. Coach Sanders lowers the T-screen. He runs us through the terms of the testing, which basically says that we can’t hold the school, Parliament, or the Engineers accountable for any injuries. Our parents had to sign waivers, though they didn’t even send one to Dad. My role has always been known.

Once he’s finished the terms, he clicks a blue box on the T-screen. Instantly, testing stations rise from the floor at the far left of the gym. The transformation completes, leaving ten different stations, each with large walls surrounding them, blocking what’s inside. There are twenty-five of us in the class but only ten stations. That’s odd. Coach clicks another box and the numbers one through ten appear on each station, and below each number is a name. My eyes dart from station to station until I find mine. Station nine. Gretchen has station two, and Jackson, station five.

“You will see your names located below your station number,” Coach says. “If your name is not listed, then I’m sorry to say your scores have not qualified you to continue with Op testing. You may leave.”

A round of gasps echoes through the room. Not allowed to test? Wow. I try not to stare as they exit, a few angry and one girl sobbing. It seems cruel to not give them a chance, but Operatives aren’t known for their kindness, as evidenced by my dad.

We’re instructed to go to our stations. I stand outside nine, my hands shaking, but I know I’ll get it under control once inside. Mom offered a relaxation supplement this morning, but I couldn’t bring myself to take it. Lots of Ops take them, even some trainees, but the result is that you never really master self-control. A real fight isn’t likely to occur when we expect it.
Inability to master fear will result in death.
I can hear Dad’s voice saying the phrase to me during our earliest trainings. Dad taught me to know my weaknesses and face them head-on.

The door to nine opens and a woman beckons me forward. She bears the Lead Op badge, but I don’t recognize her. I’m sure that was intentional. Her black hair is pulled back in a tight bun, causing her eyes to slant to the side. She doesn’t smile or wave or hint at any form of civility.

“Today’s test is limits. Your headset is there,” she says, pointing to a chair against the opposite wall from her. “You may sit or stand while you conduct the test, though I’ll warn you, eventually you’ll find yourself standing. I suggest you stand or sit in the center of the room. Less injuries that way.”

I walk over to the chair, grab the headset, and step back over to the center of the room.

She nods for me to begin, and just as I slide the headset on, blocking her from view, I hear her say, “Your test is unique, Ari. Keep that in mind.”

I try to think of what she might mean, and then it hits me—Cybil. And if she had any say in my test that can only mean one thing. Ancients. I draw a steadying breath, forcing back any doubts, and open my eyes.

I am alone in an abandoned warehouse. It reminds me of a food-processing warehouse but older, decaying. Bits of orange light shine in through a half dozen windows, streaking out across the top of the warehouse, never dropping to where I stand a story below. Dust floats in the air above me. Birds crow in the distance. The hinges of the warehouse door creak as it swings back and forth, back and forth. I push through the doors to outside, peering around. There’s nothing, no one, only the single warehouse in a field surrounded by thick, overgrown woods.

Something urges me forward, something like curiosity or need. I walk out into the open and turn around in a circle, watching the trees, but for what I’m not sure.

Then I see her.

A tiny woman walks out from the woods’ edge. She’s lean with an agile look that instantly flicks on my defensive side. I wait where I am, somehow sure that she’ll come to me. What I don’t expect is for a thick arm to wrap around my neck from behind, cutting off my air supply. I rise onto my toes and then slam down into a squat, jerking the offender over my head and onto the ground in front of me, where I slam my fist into his face. I glance up to where the woman stood before and now there are three, five, ten of them, one after another, stepping out from the forest depths. I do the only thing I can do—I turn and run, crashing through the woods opposite from them into the overgrowth and thorns, desperate for distance so I can think up a plan.

I’m well into the woods now, darkness closing in overhead. The wind picks up, carrying whispers through the leaves. I stop at an open clearing, hoping I can take on one at a time, but that’s not really how an attack works. They’re all going to jump me. I wait several seconds, widening my stance and preparing myself mentally for the fact that I might fail this test, when I hear a strange sound coming from a great oak to my right. First scratching, then what I can only describe as something growing inside a space that’s too small. I back away from it, staring with wide eyes, as first a hand, then a leg, then an entire body emerges from the tree, like the bark spit out a person—an Ancient.

I scream just as someone yanks me back, causing my headset to scatter to the ground. For a moment, I’m disoriented, caught between the simulation and reality, then my focus returns and I realize I’m being dragged from the simulation room. I claw and kick against the offender, fighting to regain control, then I wheel around, prepared to punch, when I see Jackson, his face filled with urgency. “What…?”