Unison (The Spheral) (14 page)

“This can be temporary. After my induction, we can be together again.”

“No thanks. I’m not attracted to sleeve-worshippers.”

I shut the suitcase. “I worship no one, including the Overseer.”

Flora picked up the rose. “Then why this?” She tossed the rose at me, and the stem grazed the side of my face. “The other women you were with may have found your departing gift sentimental, but when I look back on this day, I’ll remember you as a coward.” Flora grabbed some clothes from out of the closet and tossed them into the suitcase.

“We don’t have to part this way. I still care for you.” I went to touch her face, and she pushed away my hand.

“Don’t you see how stored emotions arise from negative past experiences?” I asked. “They’re counterproductive because they lead to hostile actions.”

“Spare me the sermon. I’d rather hear one of Kai’s dull stories.”

I slapped Flora’s face. “You’ll address him only as Master Kai!”

Flora put her hand over her cheek. “Not me.” She smiled. “Kai’s been after me since he appointed me Unity Guard. I could’ve had servants and whatever else I desired.”

“You should’ve been honored that a Chosen considered you in that way.” The rage I felt towards Kai came close to breaking through Harmony’s defenses.

Flora started to cry. “You’re as dead as the rest of the high colors.”

“We’ll continue this after Harmony calms you down.”

“I never got the upgrade,” Flora said. “I didn’t want to turn into a heartless machine like you.”

A wave of vertigo came on swiftly, almost knocking me off my feet. It was followed by a vision of Flora lying on the floor with a plazer blast to her forehead.

“Doesn’t seem natural—to ignore my feelings.” Flora threw some more clothes into her suitcase. “I like facing everything in my life—even betrayal.”

“The purpose of Harmony is to make us better than the Outsiders.”

“Can you predict the future and promise Harmony won’t be misused by a future Overseer?”

I looked at Flora with a combination of anger and confusion.

“Yes. It was me. I was the one who spoiled your induction ceremony.” Flora picked up her suitcase and stormed off.

I followed her to the foyer. “Did you ever care about us, or were you sent by the Strikers to spy on me?”

She turned to face me. “I care about Unitians. They’re being programmed like robots, and it scares me.” She wept.

I glanced at my holologue.

“Who are you calling?” Flora asked.

“Reintegration is the best cure for a Striker.”

“If there’s a cure for wanting to be free, I don’t want it.”

“We
are
free—even more so now with Harmony.” I took Flora’s suitcase. “The reason you can’t recognize it is because your childhood emotions come out whenever you feel threatened. They get confused with present situations, and that’s happening to you right now. If you were receiving Harmony’s signal, you’d know there’s nothing to feel threatened about.”

Flora placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t
feel
the least bit threatened by you. You’re nothing but Kai’s puppet—”

I was about to strike Flora again, but she managed to land one against my gut first. I slammed her against the wall. A sharp pain shot through my head as I placed my hands around her neck and squeezed. “How dare you raise your hand to a color higher than your own! I’ll see to it personally that you’re demoted to orange sleeve and that you spend the rest of your life riding laps around Unity in a crail!”

Flora stared ahead with her eyes unfocused. Worried I’d be the cause of her death, I quickly let go.

“Come on,” I said out of breath. “I’ll take you to reintegration. A few treatments, and you’ll be all better. And if you give me the names of whatever Strikers you know, I promise not to tell anyone that you were the one who interrupted my induction.”

Flora’s eyes widened as though she had just seen something that terrified her. “It’s too late, it’s too late, it’s too late,” she said in a rhythmic whisper.

“You say that now because you can’t see beyond your fears, but there is a beyond.” I clutched my forehead that still ached from the stun. “Once you let go of your inhibitions, you’ll see Harmony is the only path to happi—”

“It’s too late, it’s too late, it’s too late.” Flora continued to repeat the phrase, and her voice grew louder and more frantic with each pass.

“Take slow, deep breaths,” I said.

She pushed me and walked away, now yelling the words.

I connected to the hospital and requested emergency services. Those few seconds seemed like forever until a human voice finally greeted me. “I need a medic team sent to...”

Remember,
my own voice rang out loudly in my mind. A familiar terror jolted my attention back to Flora, who now stood near the balcony with her plazer aimed towards her head. I ran to her, and she shot herself. She slumped to the floor and appeared exactly as she had in my vision. I never even considered Flora would take her own life.

Having foreknowledge offered no advantage, no extra insight, no added intelligence. I wept because I should’ve learned this after Wade jumped off the ridge. I wept because Kai was right; my ideal of saving humanity was a fantasy—as was my proposal. Of that I was grateful. I also wept because my impossible idealism had to be proven false by the death of a woman, whom I only now realized I loved.

I pulled Flora onto my lap and rocked her. “Why did you do this?”

I connected to Unity Forces with her in my arms, and they arrived within ten minutes after I called. During my questioning, I never revealed her confession about interrupting my induction. My role of sleeve-worshipper was officially over.

Flora encrypted her files, but I had no problem gaining access. My decryption program cracked her password, giving me access to all her files. The one that caught my interest first was Freedomline. Strikers formed a network that helped dissidents leave Unity. Those who wished to flee were referred to as passengers. They were shuttled to a secret location outside the border where the conductor would guide them to the other side of the old tunnel. Freedomline hadn’t been operational in four years because the conductor failed to show up for the last transport. With no one else to lead them, the frightened passengers returned to Unity and were reintegrated.

There was no other information about the Strikers. Flora rigged her holologue to delete the incriminating files after her vital signs ceased. My retrieval program was able to save only one file. It was a list of Unitians she delivered to the access for transport out of the dome. I paused when I came to Holly 1307-242-W. This was no routine transport. Holly was a recently nominated Overmaiden. During the Overseer’s marriage ceremony, she attempted to escape, and Flora apprehended her. On their way to reintegration, Strikers attacked Flora and left with Holly. Flora suffered a concussion and spent two days in the hospital. She put her life in danger to free someone. That kind of conviction I never understood, and I hoped Flora’s holojournal would help me gain some extra insight. I hesitated for a moment and then opened the file. There were many mentions of Tyrus, and the entries about me revealed Flora had doubts about us since the night we met. One phrase, in particular, lingered on my mind for the rest of the day.

Damon is like a child. He believes the Corporate Hierarchy is in service to help Unitians. His privileged childhood made him an idealist of an impossible reality.

Impossible reality? Is that what I believed in? Or was it an impossible idealism like Kai said? That Kai and Flora could make a similar assessment of me was disturbing because it meant there had to be some truth in what they said. The puzzling characteristic about truth is you don’t always have to listen to it, but when it screams you have no choice but to hear.

END TRANSMISSION

T
he Crystal Tower Cafe was the premiere restaurant in Unity. With my impending promotion, I was allowed admittance every Sixthday, during lunch hours. Normally, I would’ve been eager to partake in the privilege, but I wasn’t there for the relaxed environment where every dress code edict was dismissed. The purple sleeves were served by undermaidens who wore skirts so short, you could almost see the full length of their thighs. Their unbound hair fell loosely past their shoulders, and the neckline of their uniform plunged low enough to reveal the secret narrow passageway between their breasts. Should a purple sleeve become enamored by one—or more of the undermaidens, he could retire to a relaxation room for personal servicing.

An overzealous orange sleeve greeted me at the reception stand and scanned my nomination card. He led me to my table, talking about the previous week’s football match between the yellows and oranges. His narrative continued as an undermaiden served me my drink. They left, and the orange sleeve extended his discussion to the undermaiden, who escaped to serve a purple sleeve.

I was aroused by all the emancipated hair and exposed skin until the undermaiden who served me was recruited by a purple sleeve. She smiled as she walked off with him, but as they neared the relaxation room, the undermaiden nervously twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers. As they neared the door, she hesitated by trying to engage the purple sleeve in conversation. He wasn’t in the mood to talk, and he pushed her inside the room. I had a strong urge to rescue her and had to remind myself no crime was being committed. Undermaidens are born to service men. That’s what genetics dictate for this class. Nevertheless, biological engineering can yield unforeseen results, and I’m proof of that. The myth that supported the dome was unraveling, yet I still believed Unity was the most beautiful city in existence. I admired the skyline that reflected against the dome at night, and the golden lights that shined on Unity Hall, yet my urge to leave them forever was strengthening. Deciding which way to turn wasn’t as simple as hating the Corporate Hierarchy for their hypocrisy. This was the only life I knew, the only life I understood.

After consuming a half-baked chicken with mashed potatoes, two slices of apple pie, a dish of bread pudding, two cups of coffee, and three glasses of wine, I witnessed enough to know that most of the undermaidens weren’t happy with their assignment. With that acknowledgement, a visit to the relaxation room lost its appeal. I was about to leave when Tyrus showed up, attracting the usual stares over his refusal to dress to code. When he saw me, I waved him over. I filled him in on my progress with COR and filled his cup with wine. After a few more drinks in him, I was sure I could get him to talk about Flora.

“I’ve tried to make sense of what happened, and I can’t,” Tyrus said after his sixth drink. “Flora had a strong spirit—one of the strongest in all of Unity.”

“And one of the most headstrong.”

“Which is why I find her death suspicious. Flora was the last Unitian I’d expect to take her life. She was a rare gem shining alone in a world of pyre.”

I had read the same phrase in Flora’s journal. It was in reaction to her questioning why she couldn’t choose her own assignment, and how she thought it wasn’t fair she couldn’t study astronomy. Tyrus appreciated Flora’s inquisitiveness and made himself available to all her questions and doubts about Unity. Just as Master Franklin was my protector, Master Tyrus was hers.

“She told me she admired you,” I said. “Your name came up in practically all our discussions.”

“It’s typical for a protege to view their master as a divine authority. Most of the Corporate Hierarchy expect that kind of devotion.”

“Do you?”

“I did…for a while,” Tyrus poured some more wine into his glass, “but I soon grew tired. The role is impossible to live up to.”

“Think I’d enjoy that kind of worship.”

“Evaluate your wish with prudence because you’re close to attaining it.” He sipped his drink, and we drifted back to discussing COR. “The Overseer couldn’t stop talking about you in his last assembly. He insisted you were nearing a breakthrough.”

“It’s too early for such declarations; COR is still only a hypothesis.”