Limbo (The Last Humans Book 2) (3 page)

“Okay,” I subvocalize slowly. “So you have a way to let me take the Test.”

“Right.”

“And you need it gone so you can get more resources?”

“Exactly.”

“To figure out where we are—where
you
are, as in the ship?”

“That,” she says, “and our destination. I want to know where we’re flying to.”

I feel gooseflesh rise on my arms. It’s the same reaction I get whenever I let myself think about the idea that we’re flying someplace specific.

“Yeah,” Phoe says, the awe in her voice echoing my state of mind. “We could be traveling to settle on some new, Earth-like planet. Lots of evidence, like that stash of embryos, points to that possibility.”

An Earth-like planet.

I remember my earlier dream. It’s a possibility so wonderful I’m afraid to hope. Running for miles and miles without the Barrier of the Dome to stop me would literally be a dream come true.

“What about Earth?” I think. “Is there any chance we could go back?”

“We could, in theory at least,” Phoe says. “We got from there to here, so we should be able to get back. But, Theo, going back there would be a rather radical scenario.”

“Because of the technological advances?”

“Yes.” Her voice is soft. “I wasn’t brought up to be a Luddite the way you were, and even I find the idea of Earth overwhelming.”

Phoe told me earlier that Earth might, by this point, be a planet that is itself intelligent—whatever that means. The whole solar system could be sentient, she said. Meeting something like that sounds both frightening and wondrous. If we are truly mortal—an idea I’m still keeping locked in a small box somewhere in my mind—then I want to see what’s happened on Earth before I die.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Phoe replies as a thought. “Because if anyone could make that happen, it would be me.”

“To that end, maybe we can still implement your scheme?” I mentally ask. “Once we get out of this Envoy mess?”

Phoe raises her index finger to her mouth in a ‘be silent’ sign, which is funny since I was thinking, not talking, so she should be putting her finger to her temple. For a second, her eyes get a distant look before focusing again.

“They’re about to have that Council meeting,” she says.

She flicks her arm and a large Screen appears in front of us.

On the Screen is a spacious room with a bunch of white-haired Elderly sitting on ancient, throne-looking chairs.

Jeremiah is the only one who’s standing.

To his right is Fiona, the woman who stood up for me yesterday. Every other Elderly looks completely unfamiliar.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Council,” Jeremiah says, his face a stony mask. “There’s a dire situation you need to be made aware of.”

T
he twelve Council
members wear a mixture of worried and curious expressions. Fiona and four other women appear to have fallen on the curious end of the spectrum, and so do five of the men. The rest look concerned.

Jeremiah examines everyone’s faces. I guess he still suspects one of them of causing the Forgetting, despite the Envoy’s position on the matter. Or, as the Envoy insinuated, perhaps Jeremiah is looking for a way to use this situation to advance his political agenda. Judging by the way Fiona confronted him yesterday, Jeremiah and Fiona seem to be at philosophical and political odds.

Having completed his examination, Jeremiah says, “An unauthorized Forgetting was perpetrated.”

The silence in the Council room is absolute, their faces almost comical in their shades of shock.

“That’s impossible,” a younger-looking man says. “It can’t even—”

“It’s fact.” Jeremiah plants his feet in a wide stance. “The Envoy has informed me.”

The room erupts in incredulous whispers.

“How convenient,” Fiona says, getting up from her chair, “given that you’re the only one with access to the Envoy.”

Jeremiah bares his yellowish-gray teeth in a smile that lacks even a hint of warmth. “Would
you
like to meet the Envoy?”

Fiona visibly pales, sits back down, and stays quiet.

I guess meeting the Envoy is considered a scary proposition—something I take note of.

“I apologize for my outburst,” Jeremiah says to Fiona in a completely unapologetic tone. “The Envoy, in his wisdom, included you in the forthcoming investigation, so if you need proof of my words, know that he endowed you with the Lens of Truth.”

The murmurs turn into shocked exclamations.

Fiona whispers something to a thin man sitting next to her, and Jeremiah says, “If you’re testing it on Vincent, don’t. We are to start our investigation with Youths, followed by Adults. If we need to question any of the Elderly”—he gives the rest of the Council a threatening glance—“I will have to consult with the Envoy again.”

“I see,” Fiona says, her slender fingers twitching at her sides. “I guess I can test it later.”

Jeremiah gives her a contemptuous look. “Why would I lie about something so easily verifiable?” When Fiona shrugs, he says, “I also wouldn’t recommend using this power idly. It was granted to us for a specific purpose, and that is to investigate the atrocity committed against everyone here.” He sweeps his hand around the circle of the Elderly.

“Committed against
you
,” says Vincent, the emaciated man Fiona just whispered to. “The rest of us have been through a Forgetting many times.”

Jeremiah’s posture stiffens. “You never agreed to Forget
this.
There’s a Council meeting missing from our minds, and who knows what else. There was no psychological benefit to this Forgetting. It was done with malicious intent.”

Every Council member speaks at once. In the cacophony, I make out questions along the lines of “How can that be?” and “Who could even do such a thing?”

“I will have order in the Council,” Jeremiah says, raising his voice above all others. “You are acting like a bunch of Youths.”

The noise quiets down.

“Now.” Jeremiah scowls. “I think you understand the severity of this situation. The only people who have the power of Forgetting are in this room, yet somehow,
we
were the targets.”

Jeremiah pauses for dramatic effect, and it works. Everyone looks at him with bated breath. Vincent literally slides to the edge of his seat. Even Fiona looks subdued and respectful.

“The Envoy nominated me and Fiona to lead the investigation into this dire matter,” Jeremiah says. “We are to start with… well, this is where things get tricky, as we are getting into matters I cannot recall.” He pinches the loose skin on his neck. “There was an unfortunate situation where a Youth was Forgotten two days ago, and there’s a chance that this rather rare event is somehow related to our predicament.”

The noise is back.

Fiona looks around at her fellow Council members and speaks up, raising her voice to be heard over everyone’s mumbling. “I have no doubt you’re telling the truth, Jeremiah, but you have to understand how difficult it is for us to believe that a Youth had to be Forgotten.”

“I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling, but I do envy you all.” Jeremiah looks genuinely sad as he says this. “I carry the burden of remembering these tragedies. If it were not necessary, I would not have brought it up, but there’s no other way for us to discuss the Envoy’s plan.”

“What is the Envoy’s plan?” Vincent is a millimeter away from slipping off his chair.

“Fiona and I will interview everyone who knew this unfortunate Youth,” Jeremiah says. “That is, after I figure out who his friends and enemies were.”

“How will you do that?” Fiona tilts her head to the side. “Wasn’t the information irrevocably lost during the Forgetting?”

Phoe and I exchange glances.

I didn’t even think of this, but it makes sense. If Mason wasn’t mentioned anywhere, then getting a list of his friends is impossible.

Jeremiah frowns. “The Keepers have their own private, unaltered archives,” he says with evident reluctance. “And if you”—he stares at Fiona—“are willing to undergo Forgetting after this matter is finished, I could give you access to them to aid in this investigation.”

Phoe tenses. She must’ve hoped they didn’t have unaltered archives. Then she sighs and says as a thought in my mind, “At least this gives me a valuable resource.”

“Let me listen to them,” I think back and concentrate on the Screen, where Fiona has already said a few words I missed.

“—would submit to a Forgetting if the good of Oasis required it,” Fiona says and glances around the group uneasily. “I will do whatever I can to assist this investigation.”

“It’s settled then,” Jeremiah says. “The rest of you, after all this is done, will have the luxury of Forgetting that a Youth suffered such an unpleasant fate. Now—”

“I’m sorry, Keeper,” says a round-faced old woman. “Are you planning to work on this immediately?”

“Of course,” Jeremiah says with a note of kindness in his voice. This must be a woman he likes.

“And you’ll need Fiona?”

“Obviously.” Jeremiah’s kindness slips toward annoyance.

“It’s just that”—the old woman reddens—“we’re about to get a new crop of newborns on Birth Day. It’s a lot of work. Plus we’re moving the older youngsters to the Youth section, and there are the celebrations themselves…” Her voice trails off.

Jeremiah looks at the woman, then at the rest of the Council members, and finally at Fiona.

Fiona doesn’t look like she noticed his stare or heard the round-faced woman’s complaints. She appears lost in thought.

“I have a question too,” Vincent says. “How can you and Fiona interview Youths? Will you bring them here and make them Forget it ever happened? They aren’t supposed to see any signs of aging.”

“That’s easy enough,” a younger-looking Elderly says. “Fiona and Jeremiah can dress as Guards. It’s what—”

“I’m sorry,” Fiona interrupts. “There’s a thought I can’t shake, and please forgive me if I’m being paranoid, but to paraphrase what Jeremiah said at the beginning of this meeting: if someone made us Forget, wouldn’t the most logical person be one of us?”

She looks around the room.

The rest of the Council members look at each other warily.

“The Envoy wants us to start with people outside the Elderly,” Jeremiah says. “So I assume he has reasons to—”

“And that may be a prudent approach,” Fiona says, “but I think it might not hurt to take a precaution or two anyway. I propose that Jeremiah and I continue discussing this matter privately.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Jeremiah says and gives Fiona the sullen look of someone who wishes the idea had been his. “But we’ll have to put it to a vote, since the rest of the Council will be deprived of information that is their due.”

“Of course,” Fiona says and gives Jeremiah a sharp smile. “All in favor of
discretion,
please raise your hands.”

She raises her hand. Jeremiah does the same.

Everyone else’s hands follow. Those two obviously wield all the power in the room. The Envoy was clever to force their alliance, which sucks all the more for me.

“All right then,” Jeremiah says. “Going forward, Fiona and I will discuss this matter privately. Now we can talk about other matters, including the Birth Day celebrations.” He gives the round-faced woman a fake-looking smile.

The woman takes his smile at face value and launches into a laundry list of activities that need to be done for the big day.

Halfway through it, Phoe closes the Screen and says, “Part of me is still monitoring their conversation. If they talk about anything of note, I’ll tell you.”

I audibly let out a breath I inadvertently kept in—probably throughout the whole Council meeting. “Can I panic
now?
” I’m so upset I say the words out loud. Subvocally, I add, “Do we have all the facts?”

It’s only when I finish speaking that I notice how pale Phoe is.

“Yes,” she says softly. “
Now
we can panic.”

I
jump to my feet
, unable to sit still.

Phoe gets up too.

“I didn’t know.” Phoe twists her hands together. “I didn’t know about the unaltered archives.”

“But now that you do, can you somehow make it so they can’t connect me to Mason?” I take a step toward her. “Please, tell me you can.”

“I have no idea where this archive is, and I’ve been searching for it since Jeremiah mentioned it. With my new resources, a few seconds is a long time.” She doesn’t meet my gaze. “On the bright side, once they access it, things might change, unless, like the Envoy, it’s behind that cursed Firewall.”

I pace back and forth for a while, and she just watches me.

“What do we do, Phoe?” I subvocalize after a minute. “They might find out I was Mason’s friend and come interrogate me at any moment.”

“They’re still in the meeting. Afterwards, it might take them a while to scan through those secret archives.” Stepping toward me, Phoe catches my forearm. “On top of that, even now, that round-faced woman is persuading them to help with the Birth Day chores.”

“Okay, so I have two days instead of one.” I pull away and make another circle around her. “The situation is still pretty screwed up.”

Phoe nods, her expression tense.

“Can’t you think of anything we can do?” I ask, stopping to take in a few deep breaths. Respirocytes don’t seem to negatively affect the relaxation the exercise brings me, which is good.

“I’ve thought of a multitude of plans,” Phoe says, “but all of them have flaws.”

I resume pacing a bit slower. This time it’s my mind that’s racing and not my legs. An idea is forming, but it’s pretty insane.

“Would that Lens of Truth make me answer all of Jeremiah’s questions truthfully? Even though you protected my brain from mind control earlier?” I subvocalize, figuring that before I state my crazy plan, I should verify that I’m as deeply in shit as I think I am. “I wouldn’t be able to lie… even to protect you?”

“I’m sorry, Theo, but I don’t think the protection I gave you earlier would work against this, and if I tried to counter it at this point, I might as well announce my existence to them.” Phoe frowns in concentration. “That is, assuming I figure out exactly how it works, which I think I could. Even the ancients had lie detection technology, and if I read up on its evolution over the years—”

“Never mind the technical details,” I think and stop in front of her. “You said you could undo a Forgetting, right?”

“Yes,” she says.

“Okay. Remember when the Envoy said that if Jeremiah really did make himself Forget, he wouldn’t have been lying under the Lens of Truth, even if he actually was lying?” I run my hands through my hair and wait for her to nod. “So, my idea is this: you make
me
Forget, so that when they eventually ask me questions as part of this investigation, I’ll honestly say I don’t know anything. Then, later, you can undo the Forgetting and—”

“You think this wasn’t one of the first solutions I thought about?” Phoe gently touches my elbow. “You haven’t fully considered what you’re asking. You would Forget
me.
You would Forget Mason. You would Forget—”

“I obviously don’t want to do this.” I resume pacing circles around her. “I just don’t see any other options. If you mess with their minds, the Envoy will know. If I’m caught lying, the situation will be worse. Either they’ll kill me, or you’ll reveal yourself while trying to protect me. I can’t run anywhere. There’s nowhere to hide. Besides, this Forgetting would be temporary, so how bad could it be?”

“The Forgetting would be brief, that’s true, but it doesn’t make it any less distasteful. Besides, making you Forget won’t solve all our problems.” She gestures, and a neural scan shows up. “Not by a long shot.”

I stop pacing to examine the new Screen. It’s my neural scan, that much is clear. My brain is a beehive of activity. It reminds me of a video I saw of an ancient city highway. Compared to the scan from yesterday, the changes are profound. Compared to two days ago, it might as well belong to a different brain.

“This is the result of you ridding me of their tampering, isn’t it?” I whisper.

“Yes.”

“And all these changes are after only two days without all that stuff?”

She sighs. “Now you see the problem.”

“But what if you reverse this?” My throat feels like sandpaper as I say the words. Catching myself speaking out loud, I continue mentally. “What if you turn it all back on and make me like the other Youths?”

“It would take days for you to get to the point where any irregularities would be considered within the norm.” Phoe makes a quick gesture and offers me the resulting cup of water. “I can’t even imagine how you’d explain all this adrenaline to yourself.”

“Well”—I accept the cup—“they might be searching the archives for some time, hopefully until the end of today. After that, they have the Birth Day prep and celebrations to deal with, so with any luck, they might actually only get here in a couple of days.”

“We have no way of knowing if that will be enough time for you to return to the baseline of a normal Youth’s neural scan,” she says. “Besides, they could still decide to conduct the interrogations on Birth Day. Today is only starting, and they have until tomorrow.”

“Listen, Phoe.” I take a thirsty gulp from the cup. “It’s
my
safety we’re talking about. My plan. My mind.” I gesture for the cup to dissipate. “Shouldn’t it be my decision?”

Phoe steps closer to me, leans in, and says, “I’m your friend, Theo.” She puts her hand on the back of my neck. “Looking out for you comes with the territory. Not to mention, it’s in my nature as the ship to look out for the crew.”

I feel a positive, calming energy spreading from where her hand touches my neck, though maybe it’s her words that are having this effect on me. On the Screen, I see a surge of endorphins. My reaction to her small touch makes me wonder what my brain looked like when we kissed yesterday. Embarrassed by the memory and aware that she probably knows exactly what I’m thinking, I chuckle warily and say, “I’m now your crew? Does that make me the captain?”

“More like the cabin boy.” She pulls her hand away and gives me a sad smile. “Seriously, though, is there any way I can dissuade you from this idea?”

“Yeah.” I return her smile with as much swagger as I can muster. “Come up with a better plan.”

We stand there in silence, looking at each other for a few seconds.

“Phoe.” This time, I put my hand on the back of
her
neck. “They’ll come for me no matter what. At least this way I’ll have a good chance at staying out of trouble.”

“Let’s walk back,” Phoe says and steps out of my reach.

She looks like she’s come to a decision, but I can’t tell what.

“For now, I’m just saying we should go back.” As she’s walking, she adds over her shoulder, “If we
are
to do this insanity, it would be better if you were in bed.”

I follow her.

“Please make sure not to speak out loud anymore. I didn’t give you a hard time when we were sitting by the Edge since I made sure no one was eavesdropping on us, but as we get closer to the Institute, I don’t want to risk it.”

“Sounds good,” I think. “Do you agree with my plan?”

“Maybe.” She massages her temples with her index fingers. “Yes, but I do so with great reluctance. And I hope you realize I will have to turn
everything
back on. The serotonin controls, the Oneness—all those things you hate.”

“I understand.”

“I will also have to turn off the Respirocytes,” she says. “And I will have to do my best to copy
their
Forgetting, which means you won’t be able to recall Mason, just like everyone else. Same goes for a bunch of movies and music and, most importantly, me.”

“You’ve already said that. I get it. It’s fine. It’s only temporary.” I step onto the pathway that leads to the Dorms. “Like you said, you’ll make me remember it all afterwards.”

“I will, but—” She grimaces. “Your personal identity will splinter after the Forgetting, because that part of you will cease to exist after I undo the Forgetting. Don’t you get that?”

I rub my chin. “My identity?”

“Think about it. After the Forgetting, a new
you
will be formed. That Theo, the naïve Theo, will exist for a time, but afterwards, once I restore
you—
” She pauses. “I’m not sure what will happen to the naïve Theo at that point. There’s simply no precedent that I’m aware of.” She lets me catch up with her and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Will he, that persona, be obliterated? And if so, is that a murder of sorts? Do I have the right to do something like that? Do
you
have the right?”

“Won’t it just be like remembering something I forgot?” I think pointedly while my insides inexplicably shiver. “I’m
me
no matter what I can or can’t recall.”

“I believe that knowing me, combined with your recent experiences—not to mention having the tampering turned off—has been a crucial turning point in your personality. Without all that, you wouldn’t really be
you
anymore, and vice versa.”

“But you said that the Forgetting merely blocks recall… that it makes us create a confabulation of the new reality,” I think, my brain beginning to hurt. “That makes it sound like I’d still be me, only with a bunch of bullshit explanations as to what I can’t recall.”

Phoe gives me a sad look. “One can lie to oneself to the point where one becomes a different person. People have done it since antiquity.”

“I’ll take my chances with this identity crisis,” I think with a bravado I don’t truly feel. “Please don’t try to talk me out of this anymore.”

She doesn’t respond.

We walk in silence the rest of the way to my Dorm. I guess not speaking is what it takes for Phoe to not try to talk me out of this plan. Still, it feels like a companionable silence.

“Get in bed,” Phoe says after we enter my room. “It will be less disorienting for you to wake up in bed after the Forgetting. You won’t have to confabulate a reason you were by the Goo so early in the morning.”

My hands shake as I summon the bed.

Phoe summons the blanket for me. “It’s not too late to reconsider. I haven’t—”

“It’s the only way.” I imbue my thought with as much decisiveness as I can. “Please, do it now. The anticipation is killing me.”

She nods and says softly, “Goodbye, Theo. I’ll see you soon.”

Her face is a pale mask as she makes the orchestra-conductor gesture.

I feel hypnotized by her delicate movements. As I watch, I feel a tsunami of drowsiness wash over me, and I don’t fight it.

My eyes close, and I fall down the rabbit hole of sleep.