Alternity (34 page)

At least if he’s still alive he’ll hear of my last act, when word of my speech trickles down through the underground. At least he’ll know that I sacrificed my life for the people. I hope he realizes that every word will be dedicated to him.

“It’s almost time, my dear,” Duske says, coming up behind me and yanking me from my troubled thoughts. “Are you ready for your glorious debut?”

I turn around and toss him a guileless smile. “I’m ready,” I say brightly. “So very ready.”

“Good,” he says. “I will go out and introduce you. Warm up the crowd a bit. When I call your name, you step out onto the stage and then read the speech that I gave you.” He pats me on the shoulder. “We’ll have the slides you took of Earth projected onto a large screen behind you. Feel free to reference those as you speak.”

“Great. I can do that.”

Duske smiles, then leans forward and kisses me lightly on the cheek. It takes all my willpower not to swipe away the moisture he leaves behind on my skin. Instead, I force myself to return the gesture. “I’m glad we’re working together now, Brother Duske,” I say softly, looking up through my lashes.

He grins like the fool he is and ruffles my hair. God, didn’t he learn his lesson the first time around? And who gets off hooking up with clones, anyway?

“My dear,” he says, “I do believe this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

Oh, so do I, Duske. So do I.

He steps out to center stage and gestures for the stagehand to get the show on the road. A moment later, the curtains slide apart and the senator is illuminated by a single spotlight. From backstage left, I can now see out into the crowd. It’s standing room only and everyone’s going wild, cheering, screaming. It makes me sick. I hope they have brains enough to listen to what I have to say.

“Thank you, thank you!” Duske says, leaning into a microphone. A whiny feedback hisses for a moment, then dies away. “But I’m not the one you should be applauding. For tonight, as you know, we have a very special guest. She just arrived from Earth, where she has spent the last few months living a brand-new life. A life aboveground, out in the sunshine. A life full of new friends and new relationships. Untold riches and the companionship of animals. In short, our guest is much like the legendary Eve of the Bible—and she has been to Earth and found a real-life Garden of Eden.”

The crowd erupts into more cheers. They’re loving this. If only they had any idea of the truth, where their friends and family really ended up after visiting this so-called Garden of Eden.

“People of Terra,” Duske shouts, then pauses dramatically. “I give you … Mariah Quinn!”

And here I thought they were loud before. Now the crowd goes truly crazy. Their applause and screams are deafening. Unnerved, my heart beating a mile a minute, I step out onto the stage. My knees are wobbling, my hands are shaking. But I swallow down my fear and join Duske by the podium. He makes a grand show of bowing low to me when presenting the microphone. Then he steps to the side of the stage, leaving me in the spotlight.

I glance behind me and, sure enough, just as Duske said, my photos of Earth are projected onto the wall. Currently there’s a shot of Central Park on a sunny afternoon. People are lounging on blankets, sampling picnic goodies. Two softball teams compete on the field. A man stands frozen in motion, tossing a Frisbee to his girlfriend. I have to admit, it does look a lot like paradise. And then I remember that none of it is real.

So, now what? I glance around, looking for some sign, some hint that the Eclipsers are in the house and ready for action. The doctor told me there was a plan in place; I just wish I were clued in on what exactly it entailed.

The spotlight shines down on me. The crowd stirs, restless. Duske frowns from his position at the side of the stage. I realize I’d better get this show on the road or people will start getting suspicious.

“This is a picture of what they call Central Park,” I explain, pointing to the photo behind me. “As you can see, it’s an aboveground park right in the middle of the city. New Yorkers like to come here on their days off, to read and eat and play ball or just hang out. They have a zoo and exhibits and lakes, and in the summers they perform Shakespeare in an outdoor theater.”

The crowd oohs and aahs, clapping politely. I click to the next slide, feeling more confident. At least I know what I’m talking about. And when the Eclipsers decide to make their presence known, I’ll be ready for them.

Suddenly, the applause dies midclap, a dead silence falling over the room. I glance behind me at the slide presentation, wondering what on earth has shut them up. It’s then that I realize it’s something not on Earth at all.

Projected on the wall behind me, in startling living color, is one of the photos we took in the morgue: a naked, bloated Indy lying on a slab. So, this is what the Eclipsers have planned. They must have hacked into the slideshow somehow.

“No!”

I whirl around to see Duske charging at the slide projector, face enraged. But before he can reach me, he’s tackled by two of the onstage guards—evidently Eclipser plants—and sent flying to the floor. They club him, then clamp handcuffs over his wrists and drag him offstage. I watch, shocked, stunned, not sure what to do next. I glance around the room wildly, wondering if any other guards will suddenly burst through to interrupt the presentation. It’s then that I catch sight of Hiro, standing at one of the exit doors in the crowd. At the next is Kayce. At the next, Tayrn. All three nod to me, prompting me to go on. I realize the Eclipsers are not only in the house, they’ve got complete ownership of it.

Time to get this show on the road.

“But I’m here to tell you not to be fooled by such luxurious lies,” I say into the microphone to my horrified audience. Their panicked murmurs die away and they listen with rapt faces. “Moongazing is not a journey to a new world. It’s not a one-way ticket to paradise. In fact, Earth doesn’t really even exist. Well, not anymore.” I click the remote and the slide switches to a view of the computer control center. “This is where they create Earth. It’s a virtual reality simulation. A
game
, if you will, based on what Terra looked like before the war tore it apart.” I click the slide again, to another computer room shot. “That’s why you need the drugs. They trick your brain into believing this video game—
this illusion
—is reality.”

My audience is silent, their faces pale and shocked. I’ve got their complete attention now, that’s for sure. Time to move in for the kill. “Problem is, your bodies aren’t able to handle this simulation,” I explain, clicking the slide again. We’re now back at the morgue. “A few weeks or months after you go on your so-called pilgrimage, your mind begins to decay. Your eyes burn out of your head. You’ll die. And the government will dump your body into this morgue and likely harvest your vital organs.”

“But why would they do this?” cries a teenager in the front row. “Why would the Circle sponsor a program that kills its citizens?”

“Easy,” I reply, clicking the slideshow to reveal yet another burned-out body in a drawer. “We have an overpopulation problem, and the Circle of Eight’s figured out a method of genocide that no one will object to. Not to mention it’s a great moneymaker for them.”

“What about you?” demands an older woman a few rows back. “You went. And you didn’t die.”

I swallow hard, but as I flip the slide, I find my answer: Mariah’s corpse flashes on the screen. The crowd gasps. I stare at them, still too unnerved to look at my own dead body.

“This is what happened to the real Mariah,” I say. “She became addicted to Moongazing and it led to her own death. You think I’m Mariah, but you’re wrong. I’m simply an nT, produced by the government to trick people into thinking your precious princess is still walking around and enjoying life on Earth.” I glance at the Eclipsers, still guarding the doors. “But thanks to a few brave rebels who refused to give up, I know what side I’m really on.”

The crowd erupts in murmurs, the Indys anxiously discussing all that has just been revealed. Satisfied that I’ve done my part, I walk offstage and locate the Eclipsers, who are holding Duske captive.

“By the way, I have my memories back,” I inform him as I approach. I resist the urge to make “nyah-nyah” noises.

“So I see,” he says, not looking very happy. “Not that they were ever
your
memories to begin with. But how lovely that you’re able to take ownership of them all the same.”

Furious, I slap his face as hard as I can, my hand making a loud noise as it connects with his cheek. “That’s for trying to turn me into someone I’m not,” I spit at him.

He narrows his eyes. “Please. You were never anyone to begin with.”

“That may be true,” I agree. “But I
am
someone
now
. Someone important. And you know what? I like that person. I wouldn’t trade who I’ve become for any alternate reality in the world.”

“Neither would I,” says a voice behind me.

I whirl around, my eyes widening and my mouth dropping open in shocked joy. “Dawn!” I cry, running to him—Duske forgotten—and throwing myself into his arms. He twirls me around, squeezing me tight. “You’re here! You’re okay!” I bury my face in his shoulder, wanting to cry and laugh, sing and scream, all at the same time. “I thought maybe you were …” I trail off, unable to finish.

“I told you I’d find you again,” Dawn reminds me, setting me back on the floor. “Though, maybe you don’t remember.”

“Oh, I remember,” I assure him, a huge grin on my face. “I remember everything. And I’ll remember it all forever. I promise.”

“I know you will, Skye Brown,” Dawn says, leaning down to kiss me. “Because I plan to remind you every day for the rest of your life.”

EPILOGUE

Three mornings later I wake up in Dawn’s arms back at my house. Our house. We’ve decided there’s no reason to keep separate residences anymore. After all, we don’t want to spend any more time apart from one another then we have to.

Dawn sits up in bed, glancing at his watch. “We should get moving. We have a big meeting with the Eclipsers in an hour,” he reminds me.

I yawn, stretching my hands above my head. “Let them wait a few more minutes. I’m too comfortable to move.”

He kisses me softly on the forehead and lies back. “Me too.”

“Besides, I know what they’re going to say,” I groan. “That we need a new plan. Something to follow our glorious victory.”

“You’re starting to learn. An Eclipser’s work is never done.”

“It seems a shame we can’t just rest on our laurels for a bit,” I joke. “After all, we did destroy the government’s number-one moneymaking program and unite the Indys against them.”

Dawn chuckles. “It was great,” he agrees. “But it’s only a start. While we did get the Indys to rebel against the Moongazing project, it’s not like we took down the Circle of Eight. You saw the newsfeed last night. The Circle’s spin doctors have already started working. Senator Estelle, Mariah’s mother, vilified Duske and blamed the entire Moongazing fiasco on him, not to mention her daughter’s death. She made it seem like the whole program was his brainchild alone and nothing to do with a government conspiracy.” He gives a rueful smile. “Now all the Senate has to do is stage a trial and execution, dismantle the ‘Gazing booths and suddenly they’re big heroes to the land. The Indys will be grateful as their grand and glorious government saves them once again.”

I make a face, knowing he’s right. “Then I guess we just have to keep fighting.”

“And we will,” Dawn says resolutely “And so will the Eclipsers. And the Dark Siders. And I think this time we’ve managed to sway quite a few Indys to our side as well. And more will come every day. Slowly but surely, we’ll win this war. Someday we’ll be a free people again.”

“And you and I will be together. No matter what,” I say. Right now, that’s what matters most.

He smiles. “Truly a force to be reckoned with.”

There’s a small woof of agreement as Noah leaps onto the bed. The dog wags his tail, his mouth open in a lazy pant. Pushing his furry body between us, he curls up on top of the blankets. Laughing, we reach out to pet him, running our fingers through his impossibly soft fur.

“I think Noah is pretty happy we moved him from the animal shelter here to your house,” Dawn notes.

“Lots more begging opportunities up here with us suckers.”

“And lots more doggie cuddles for us.”

“You know,” I say. “That should be our next mission. Find old Noah here a mate. Maybe we can start a whole new breed of companion animals. I think the Dark Siders would like that.”

“What do you think, Noah, old boy?” Dawn asks, scratching the pup behind his ear. “You want a girlfriend?”

Woof!
Noah barks in affirmation, wagging his tail eagerly. He jumps on me and laps one cheek. Dawn leans over, presenting me with a far less sloppy kiss on the other. I giggle and return kisses to both of my boys, more content and happy than I’ve ever been.

After all, with this kind of light in my life, who needs the moon?

An excerpt of Mari Mancusi’s

TOMORROW LAND