Chapter 21

I practically skip back to TWOC and slide into lineup even before Head has started scanning. Rosalin eyes me suspiciously and I grin back at her. I can’t help it.

“What’s gotten into you?” she whispers as Head makes his way down the line.

“I’ll tell you later.”

Even Head’s sneer and sniff of disdain doesn’t dampen my mood. He looks at me curiously for a moment and then moves on. He’s probably wondering why I’m behaving myself.

When we’re back in the room and settled onto my bed, I confess my secret. Rosalin’s eyes go wide as I tell her about my confrontations with Cenric, him breaking the tablet and our nighttime mission to the Technology facility. I leave out the part involving the gunman and their pursuit but I’m honest about our visit to the garden and his arrival at the library this afternoon. I know she’s going to be mad at me, but despite my best intentions, I can’t keep it from her any longer. It bursts out of me like champagne shaken from a bottle.

“Are you angry I didn’t tell you?” I ask when I’m finished.

A flicker of something runs across her face but I can’t tell what. “No, yes…. I’m...” She laughs a little. “I guess it’s a bit of both. I’m happy you met Cenric, but you told me you weren’t taking risks out there. It sounds like you are.”

“Only the ones I had to,” I say.

Rosalin shakes her head and rubs her eyes. “I guess telling you not to gallivant around Osiris isn’t going to stop you.”

“Rosalin, I can’t stop. If we want to graduate, to live together, I need access to the network and our allotment files. If I don’t change those files, then Head is going to keep me here indefinitely. I wouldn’t survive that and you’d be alone out there. I promise I’m being careful. I really am.”

Rosalin looks down at her clasped hands. “I know you’re still looking for them.”

I’m about to ask her who, but I know already.

“Don’t you think they would have come back for you by now?” she asks. “It’s been ten years Arela. The odds are they’re dead. Just like my parents.”

My chest tightens and I rub my sternum to relieve the pressure.

“You don’t know that. There could be all kinds of reasons they haven’t come back.”

Rosalin looks at me skeptically.

“What are you going to do if you find them? What if they’re out there and they never intended on coming back? What if they don’t want to be found?”

“How can you say that?” I shift away from Rosalin on the bed. “I remember what it was like when we were together. They wouldn’t have left me if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

Rosalin throws her hands up in defeat. “I can’t argue with you about this.”

“Then don’t.”

“Alright, alright. But knowing the truth isn’t always better,” she says with a sad smile and there’s a part of me that knows she’s right.

Cenric is sitting on the front steps of his building when I arrive the next day. He breaks into a grin when he sees me and I feel a rush of heat move up my neck and face. I skip up the steps to meet him and he leans down to kiss me chastely on the lips.

“Part of me didn’t think you would come,” he says. “I’m still convincing myself that yesterday wasn’t a dream.”

I laugh. “I would never have dreamt that up. My imagination isn’t that good.”

I want him to kiss me again but instead, he takes my hand and leads me inside and up the spiral staircase.

The studio looks the same but some how feels different from the last time I was here. More inviting, more like home. I notice the jacket and hat are gone and the sketchbook has been tucked away out of sight. A new painting is sitting in the easel. It’s still a pencil outline, two figures sitting on a bench in a garden.

“You’re painting your great-great grandparents,” I say.

Cenric blushes. “Well… I’m actually painting the two of us. Or at least how I image we looked sitting on that bench.”

I bend closer to the drawing but it’s only a faint guide, waiting for color.

“Isn’t it weird painting yourself?”

“Not really. I’ve seen myself enough times to paint a likeness.”

“But doesn’t it feel strange? Painting what you think you look like? Don’t you feel like you’re redefining yourself?”

He cocks his head at me. “I guess I don’t really think about it. I create the image in my head and then I transfer it to canvas, or a piece of plasterboard in this case.”

He runs his finger over the rough surface and shakes his head. “I wish I could find more art supplies. I’m out of canvas, I’m low on oil colors and I haven’t found charcoal in weeks. I’m terrified Osiris is about to run out entirely.”

“I’m amazed you’ve found as much as you have. Where did you get all of this stuff? It’s not like they sell it at a general store.”

“You’d be surprised how much old world materials were left behind. The last stash I found was from an art supplies storage facility. Apparently, it belonged to a crazy Original who hoarded the items before they closed off the city and erected the perimeter. It took me a week to break the lock. “

“What are you going to do when you run out? It’s not like they make canvas or wooden planks any more.”

“There’s one more place with supplies. I just haven’t figured out how to get in there yet.”

“Why, it’s locked?” I ask with a grin. “Maybe I can help you with that.”

“Maybe you could,” Cenric says, smiling back.

“Right after you show me the underbelly.”

“No. I’m not taking you to the underbelly. It’s too dangerous.”

“Then you’ll have to do without your art supplies.”

“I guess I will,” he says and loops an arm around my waist. He pulls me to him and kisses the tip of my nose. I breathe in his cinnamon smell.

The next day the twins insist I accompany them to watch the handball quarterfinal match at the minor league court. We have special permission to leave TWOC premises with proctor chaperones. I’d be conspicuous in my absence and so I stay, cheering the twins as they dart around the court. Rosalin elbows me half way into the game and when I ask her why, she tells me I’m cheering for the wrong side.

“We just lost three points,’ she says.

“Oh.”

“Where are you today? You’ve been gazing at that wall like it’s covered in fairy dust.”

I grin sheepishly. “Nothing.”

Rosalin shakes her head at me and turns back to the game. I try to pay attention but my mind keeps wandering.

The next day Jaela and Rosalin ask me to join them in the rec room for our nightly tele-drama. I can’t concentrate and Jaela nudges me twice to stop fidgeting.

“You’re ruining it,” she complains. “At least pretend like you’re interested.”

I want to retort that they’re the ones forcing me to sit here, but I realize it’s easier not to argue. I try to follow the plot line but it seems insipid and tedious.

When the credits roll I want to cheer and I bounce off the recliner.

“Look!” Rosalin points to the screen.

I turn to look. It’s the nightly news report and a woman is standing in the middle of Square One, a huge smile plastered across her face.

A very fake smile, I think.

“Preparations for the crowning ceremony are close to completion and citizens are eagerly awaiting news of the lottery seats.”

“There’s no way they’ll pick us,” Jaela complains at the screen, as if the newswoman can hear her.

“Close to five thousand people will fill this square on October first.”

The camera pans away from the woman and scans the tiers of metal benches. Even in the flat light of the perimeter, the temporary stadium glitters impressively.

“Join us a week from now and find out if you’re one of the lucky recipients of a ticket to a once in a life time opportunity.”

The screen clicks off and a groan erupts in the room.

“Time for lights out,” Marcie says from the doorway.

The following day I barely choke down lunch before I make my excuses to the girls and sneak out the back entrance of TWOC. I run all the way from the monorail to the corner of 105th Street and then slow to a walk. I smooth my hair back and pinch a little color into my cheeks.

Cenric is sitting on the steps again and he jogs down to meet me.

“You look flushed,” he says. “Are you all right?”

I frown. “Yes, I’m fine.”

He holds a hand to my forehead. “You’re hot. Did you run all the way here?”

“No,” I say, hoping he doesn’t see through me. “It must be from all the sun I’m getting.”

He laughs. “Ok.”

He lets us in and we ascend to the studio.

“You need furniture in here,” I say.

“Lids for jars, tables and chairs. What’s next? A palanquin?”

“A what?”

“Never mind. Here, you can sit on this.” He drags the trunk against the banister and motions for me to sit.

“I brought something for us,” he says and turns away from me. He rummages with something on the bench and when he turns around he’s holding a tall glass bottle filled with a dark brown liquid.

“You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”

“No,” he says with a grin. “It’s cola!”

“Like an old world cola?” I ask in amazement. I’ve seen this drink in mod screen footage and read about its mythical sweetness in books, but I’ve never seen or tasted the real thing.

“Well I can’t say I’ve tried the old world version, so a comparison is out of the question. Here, try it.”

He hands me the bottle and sits on the trunk next to me. I lift the bottle to my lips and take a sip. An effervescent sweetness explodes in my mouth and I splutter in surprise.

Cenric laughs and reaches for the bottle.

“Not so fast, cowboy,” I say and take another sip. I’m ready for the fizziness this time and swallow without coughing. It’s delightful.

I hand it back to him with a sigh. “Oh that’s good. Why don’t they serve that with every meal?”

“One of the worlds great mysteries,” he says.

“How did you get it?”

“I have my ways,” he says with a wink. He tips his head back to drink and I admire the smooth curve of his throat, the line of his jaw.

He passes me the bottle.

“Cenric, what are your parents like?”

He looks at me sideways. “Why?”

“I… well, I don’t… I just wonder what it’s like to have parents. You know, parents you see every day.”

The guarded looks drops from his face and he shrugs. “They’re not as great as you think,” he says. “They tell you what to do and when to do it. Just like everyone else in Osiris.”

“Come on,” I say elbowing him gently. “It can’t always be like that. Don’t you do stuff together? Go places? Talk about things?”

Cenric shakes his head. “My parents are always busy. They’re usually at work, so I don’t see them much.”

I make a face at him.

“It’s not so bad. It gives me a lot of time to come here. To paint.”

“Why do you hide it from them? It’s not illegal. How do you know they haven’t changed their mind about it?”

Cenric looks pensive for a moment. “My parents have a certain idea of who I am, who I’m supposed to be. Painting doesn’t factor in.”
“What if they catch you?”

He shrugs. “I try not to think about it.”

I offer him the bottle.

“Last sip for the lady,” he says waving it off.

I hold it in my lap, not wanting to finish it.

“Don’t they know about this building? Didn’t you say it belongs to your family? They must know someone is using it.”

“They’re too busy working to think about it. When they abandoned this part of the city, they sealed the building and left it behind without looking back.”

“It’s a perfectly good building.”

“Most of them are. But you add hundreds of tenants and foot traffic to the area and the firma starts to collapse. This whole thing could crumble beneath us right now.”

“You don’t sound terribly worried about it.”

“Are you?”

“It hasn’t happened yet.”

He smiles at me.

“If you could do any one thing, what would it be?” he asks and I wonder if he’s changing the subject on purpose.

“Find my parents,” I say without hesitation.

“How are you going to do that?”

“Everything is tracked and scanned in Osiris. If they’re alive then there’ll be a record of it. If they’re dead, there’ll be a record of that too. I think if I can get the right access and the right files I’ll find them.”

“Do you think you’re related to Benjamin Harkess?”

“Who?” I jerk up, the cola forgotten in my lap.

Cenric looks at me in surprise. “You haven’t heard about the Square One streaker?”

A distant memory stirs but the details are fuzzy.

“You mean the Government official who went crazy and started running naked through public places? That’s Benjamin Harkess?”

“He changed his name after they released him from Medical, but yes, he’s a Harkess.”

“Do you know where he is?”

Cenric pauses, looks away, shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

I shove him lightly. “Cenric, tell me!”

“Well, even though Medical released him, he’s not exactly in a stable mental state. He abandoned his allotment and he gets by doing other things.”
“What other things?” I put the cola bottle on the floor and swivel so I’m facing Cenric directly. “If this is important, I need to know.”

Cenric sighs. “He works in the underbelly.”

A surge of hope propels me off the trunk. I stand looking down at him. “You have to take me. Cenric, I need to talk to him. He might remember my parents, he might know where they are… or at the very least what happened to them.”

Cenric looks at me steadily. “Okay, fine.” I shriek with excitement and he holds out his hand to calm me. “But we need to be careful. There are people I need to talk to first. It will take a few days.”

“I can wait.” I do a little dance, lean down to kiss him on the lips and then pull away.

“Well, at least I get something out of the deal this time,” he says and pushes himself off the trunk. He retrieves the cola from the floor and stands in front of me. He lifts the bottle to his lips and raises an eyebrow at me.

“I thought that was for the lady in the room,” I say. “Is there some thing you’re not telling me?”

He laughs and hands me the bottle. He gives a mock bow and flourishes his hand. “For the lady.”

I’m grinning as I take the last sip.

Next Chapter: Chapter 22