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  ‘What’s Cleaving?’ I’d asked my censored device and was informed that ‘Cleaving will be covered in a future training session.’ Don’t encourage super achievers. Seriously people—you send me to training but don’t want me to learn? I take a few deep breaths to calm myself and re-focus. I’m sure they’ll explain everything in their own due time.

  Two things I did find fascinating were the fact that there is no monetary system and no paper in Garden City. Citizens are issued ‘everything needed,’ so money is ‘not required.’ This means no stores, no shopping, and, most disturbingly, no choices. All jobs merit identical benefits, apparently. The trainer cites ‘lack of usable trees’ as the reason behind a paperless system. The government issues each resident a portable tablet like the ones given to us for training to be used to list-make, note-take, and journal-write. I wonder though, despite applauding the lack of waste and destroying natural resources, whether the impetus centers back to central control. I bet every tablet device is connected, perhaps monitored? Should I ask my device, ‘Do Therans worship George Orwell?’ Ha ha, probably not. It might be wise to make only mental notes of things that could be construed as contrary to whatever political body runs Thera. I’m sure I’ve pissed them off enough for one night.

  Solar energy fuels most of Thera and given the temperatures most the water is processed at desalinization plants close to the oceans, one of which is in Garden City, and through purification plants that recycle used water. It was during the very detailed explanation of the water collection process that I nodded off. I’m hoping Blake can fill me in on the missing details, but prefer to ask him when we’re alone in our suite.

  My nap had ended abruptly as our chairs were hurtled upward, and the screen filled with an aerial view of Garden City by day. Our chairs moved with the scenery to create the impression that we were flying overhead, reminding me of Soarin’ Over California at California Adventures Theme Park, though more lifelike. I felt like I was outside, feeling wind rush against my face. We first flew the city boundaries, seeing the entire dead man’s land border surrounding it. Then we soared low through the miles of canyons stretching towards the East coast of the unnamed continent. Snaking paths weave through the canyons, while the basins of the canyons have been paved and treated to be able to collect rainwater into large cisterns beneath the earth—that explains what appeared to be a concrete floor.

  Our instructor narrated our journey, pointing out everything from government buildings to the solar power fields, to water purification facilities, to the school we will attend. I mentally recorded the layout of the sprawling city as best as possible, but struggle to remember the details now, particularly since everything appeared to be built to blend into the landscape. The cables and platforms I saw suddenly made sense. Zip lines. I once did that in Mexico on my one out-of-the country experience. My grandparents hosted a family reunion on a short cruise. We all zip lined in Puerto Vallarta, each getting harnessed and then attached to a pulley that allowed us to ride from platform to platform. It’s fun and exciting, if not a little scary, but appears to be a quick and relatively efficient form of travel here.

  Once we’d explored the nooks and crannies by day, the sky darkened and we viewed the city by night, swirling lights whirring by. The effect was exhilarating, and like Icarus, my desire to fly overwhelmed me. But then, our night journey completed, the chairs lowered back to floor level, and our first session ended.

  A crashing sound yanks me back to the present. I open my eyes to see that the interruption was just the sound of clanking of weights. I catch Blake’s reflection in the mirror. He’s doing bicep curls with some free weights I’d be lucky to be able to pick up with both hands, but his eyes are transfixed on me. Perhaps switching planets brought out his predatory side, since I never saw him show an interest in the female race back on Earth. I shift my yoga position to better stretch and re-close my eyes, trying to edge out his image.

  It takes a few minutes to refocus and remember what the training video said about Theran inhabitants. I typed in the exact words, but the mostly useless device is back in the training room. However, I do believe they said two very interesting things. First that, “There are two types of residents: Second Chancers, and those who have the ability to pass between Earth and Thera.” Second, they said, “That which exists on one planet cannot exist on the other, with some exceptions,” which they chose not to expand upon. I’m guessing those that can pass between Earth and Thera have everything to do with those high DNT levels. My device refused to confirm or deny my suspicion, but I’m positive that’s what Spud Rosenberg meant when he said DNT would allow me to adapt to SCI’s ‘remote’ locations. And if we’re really on a different planet, that’s about as remote as one could get. But, what I don’t understand is how the Second Chancers get here and who they are.

  The conundrum eats away at the fringes of my consciousness until I feel a tap on my shoulder. It’s Blake and he offers me a hand and a towel, both of which I accept.

  “Sorry to interrupt that sweet display of flexibility,” he smiles, “but we’ve got to go learn the rules of the place.”

  “Our hour is already up?” I say, my eyes scanning him up and down. I still can’t get over the fact that he hid a near perfect physique underneath that nasty flannel, docking him only for his scarred hands, a few small scars on his back, and a barely noticeable bump on his nose as if it was once broken. His body actually gives his eyes a run for a lottery-sized jackpot of beauty. Despite the good looks, he doesn’t make my heart flutter the way Ethan did and still does when I think of him.

  “Over an hour… they give us some time to shower. We’re due back at midnight,” he says. Focus Kira. Who cares if he’s good looking? He’s a jerk and I’m hardly ready to start dating again. “Showers are in the locker rooms,” he adds, pointing to mine. “Something wrong?”

  “I’m having difficulty adjusting to our new wardrobes,” I say, blood rushing to my cheeks, and immediately wishing I hadn’t said it out loud. He laughs and strokes my chin with his fingers. I recoil a bit by his touch, surprised that he’s capable of making a kind gesture. This is the same guy who insulted my upbringing mere hours ago. And there’s something about him that I just don’t trust, though I haven’t been able to pinpoint why I feel that way.

  “Likewise, my lovely friend and partner,” he says, with emphasis on the friend and partner. “See you back in there?” He winks and starts to walk towards the men’s locker room.

  “Can’t wait,” I say, but then realize he might take it the wrong way, so I add, “I’m awfully curious about all those rules.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Blake

  ‘Crap, crap, crap,’ I think, pounding my head on the side of the shower. I don’t know how to do this, and am quite sure I’m going about it all wrong. Kira seems to be intrigued by me, which I need her to be. This is exactly what the powers that be want—they want us to hook up and make the Cleaving automatic. I need them to think that it’s going to happen so I can cover my tracks on my real mission here.

  I was a complete dick to Kira at breakfast, because I just know that she’s been waited on hand and foot, and that trend’s got to stop, so I tell her I’m not after her. Guys always get accused of going after the challenge, but chicks can’t resist the unattainable either.

  The medical pit stop went fine and I think I managed to act surprised at the outdoor landscape, but then we go to training, and I can tell right off the chairs are biometric. This means the powers that be will be tracking every single heartbeat, so they can observe how we’re responding to the smelly load of crap they’re feeding us. They want to make sure the info is new and fresh coming in, and that we’re not plants. Kira aces her reaction, pummeling them with questions and pounding on her tablet when the answers aren’t to her satisfaction.

  I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to pull it off and then it occurs to me that if I can get them to think that any abnormalities in my feed are because they
stuffed me in close quarters to this incredibly hot chick, then I’ll pass with flying colors. She’s all up in my face and asking me about my eyes, staring at me all lovey-dovey, so then I start ‘accidentally’ brushing her with my hands and arms, and next thing I know she’s asleep on my shoulder. My mind starts wandering places it shouldn’t go, but there’s only so much involvement I’m willing to have with this girl. Maybe Kira’s not the airhead cheerleader I originally thought, but not really relationship material either. As if I could allow anyone to become relationship material. Been there, been burned.

  The workout was physically great, mentally brutal. I’ve been trained to focus, so that’s the only thing that got me through. Because when I walked in and saw her dressed in the standard issue close-to-naked workout fare, I started thinking maybe I can mix a little pleasure with business. But then I think, no way, I’m not her type anyway. She likes big, burly, stupid dudes who pretend to respect her by burying themselves in a bottle. Then she sees me shirtless, about falls off her treadmill, and I think she just may be able to adapt to someone slimmer and smarter. I don’t react though. I’ve been taught well and that gives me the upper hand.

  Now what do I do? I pound my head a few more times, letting the cold water wash over me, trying to figure out my next play. What I need to do is dial it down a few notches. I know what’s coming when training finishes and she’s going to lose it, that’s a certainty. And when she finds out I knew about it ahead of time and didn’t warn her, she’s going to hate me. But she’d want me dead if I started something with her now and then found out. Didn’t I learn my lesson about how psychotic girls get when you betray them? Kira could turn me in for revenge. And I have too many people counting on me to die over what is realistically a hormonal reaction to a hot chick. I back off or come clean with her, the latter being pretty impossible when we’re being watched 24/7 and I still don’t know if I can trust her. Plus, I’m counting on her reaction to what’s on deck to be genuine and if I give her a heads-up we could both end up dead by week’s end.

  I decide dialing it back is my best bet, get out of the shower, and wrap myself in a towel. As I walk to my locker, I hear a familiar voice coming from the steam room and think maybe Ted has some info I need. As I approach I see he’s not alone, so stop in my tracks and strain to listen instead. The man speaking with Ted has his back to me, so all I can see is the remains of his thinning dark hair and a few extra rolls of fat. I crouch down to stay unseen, creating a pool of water below me as I drip onto the floor.

  “What brings you to the Recruit gym, Ted? I thought you’d still be recovering from your entry.”

  “I came to see how my new Recruits are faring—to make sure they’re adjusting well to things,” he says. “But then I started to feel some heaves coming on and decided to step into the steamer for a bit.”

  “Getting the girl was a major coup. Promotion material. We’d all thought pure Lights were extinct. And to get both Light and Dark Originals, a perfectly Cleavable set even, is nothing short of miraculous. They came through without a scratch, too, which has the geneticists celebrating. Amazing. The specifics are above my pay grade, but rumor has it we’re witnessing history in the making. ” My father didn’t instruct me about any ‘Originals,’ although the term does sound familiar. I can’t retrieve the memory, so focus on what I do know, which is that I don’t like hearing that Kira and I are central to the future of the Second Chance Institute.

  “It’s confirmed, then? I hadn’t heard the final DNA tests were back.” I wish I could look at his face, because Ted told me that he didn’t know what they wanted us for and I’d like to know if he’s bluffing to get the information or if he’s known all along.

  “Confirmed, though with DNT levels that high they had to be. They are very special, those two. And there seems to be chemistry there, as least that’s what their feeds are showing. Think they’ll Cleave on their own, or will they need help?” he asks.

  “I’d guess that will depend on how they react to meeting the Second Chancers,” Ted says. “The girl may not take it well.”

  “I don’t think that will be an issue. He’ll likely be Cleaved before their training is complete. And if not, we’ll force the issue by showing her the footage.” He thinks we’ll be Cleaved before training is complete? Or is he even talking about me? I’m not sure. Not after that reference to Second Chancers, which may mean they’re playing with some serious fire. And what ‘footage’ will they show Kira?

  “That sounds like a solid plan.”

  “It will be if we can get Brad Darcton to agree. He has other ideas for the girl that are resonating with several members of the Ten.” What ideas?

  “I thought this whole thing was his plan?” Ted says.

  “Getting the girl was his idea, but not the duo. He doesn’t think the boy’s right for her, even though he’s got a cleaner health record than the alternative,” the stranger says, confusing me further about what boy he’s referencing. He pauses before adding, “But, I’m here because I have a more pressing concern. The girl has been asking a lot of questions through her tablet, some of them pretty derogatory. We tallied over seventy-five this evening alone. Should we be worried? Her Test results didn’t paint her as rebellious.”

  “Nothing to fret over. Everything is a puzzle to her and this one is incomplete. Just give her some pieces that’ll fit. Be creative.” Great, Ted. Encourage them to tell us more lies, because I haven’t heard enough already.

  I want to stay to hear the rest, but can’t risk being caught eavesdropping or late to the next training session. Things can go downhill quickly here if you start skirting the rules. I momentarily unhitch my towel to sop up the puddle of water below before heading to get dressed, committing the conversation to memory.

  The two men sounded like my father with all the talk of Kira and I being ‘special.’ The last I time I heard those words was the day I passed through the Exiler-controlled exit portal from Thera to Earth. After my mother’s death, my father obsessed over finding a way to get my sister and me off Thera. He couldn’t be sure we’d have the ability even if a portal were found, but he’d promised my mother, so he joined every search party for nearly four years before the Exilers located and secured one. The problem with discovering new portals was that any portal exiting on land in Thera would enter in water on Earth and vice versa, making the passage extremely dangerous.

  A couple men lost their lives as they happened on a portal by accident, landing in ocean water with no boats in sight to provide rescue. Typically, Second Chancers led search parties, as they’d bounce if they hit one, but for some reason two Daynighters had set out early on one particular search. After they disappeared from view, but didn’t return by way of the entrance portal later, the Exilers decided to send the next men through with crudely made rafts. The plan worked, and these men then arranged to have a more permanent, albeit primitive structure erected, anchored to the ocean floor.

  My father dumped us in Doc Daryn’s care for six months after the find while he went to secure us a new home and identities on Earth. He hooked up with my ‘Aunt Jennifer,’ a childless distant relative of another Daynighter who’d been Exiled. She owned (and still owns) a modest house in a pleasant area of San Diego with good schools, a beautiful garden, and had inherited enough from her grandfather to support our family. Her location proved strategic for my father, being equidistant between the Exiler-controlled entrance and exit portals to the Garden City area of Thera.

  The four-night journey to the exit portal on foot sucked for my father with a five and eight year old in tow. He carried my sister most the fifteen-mile hike each night. We scrambled to reach Exiler-hosted shelters by sunrise, but the inland heat made sleep during the day uncomfortable. My sister begged to return to Doc Daryn’s house. I whimpered with every step, my undersized shoes blistering and bloodying my feet.

  The first night we passed the Eco barrier of Garden City, the canyon lights aglow in the distance. I’d only seen th
em once prior. Leila squealed and clapped at the spectacle, the only lights she’d previously seen being flashlights, cooking fires, and the sun. Upon visiting the outskirts of the city before, I’d envied the lights and seeming comfort of city life, but my dad and a near death experience soured my opinion. That day bad dreams haunted my sleep, making me slow and weary the following evening.

  Two bands of gypsies shared shelter with us on our trip. The first had been workers in Farm City and had been Exiled for resisting the extreme work conditions that included daytime harvests. Their leathery skin cracked and scaled like a desert lizard’s. I’d been shocked to see the unhealthy looking collection of ‘escaped’ farm animals that accompanied the party, including a horse, milk cow, goat, and mule. Since their Exile, the workers had traveled south in search of Exiler communities, trying to rally support for a full-scale external revolt against the Theran cities. My dad pointed them in the direction of the other extremists in our home community.

  The second group hailed from Military City, twenty-five men and women marching in perfect unison. Their tales of the dictatorship regime, blind obedience expected, and execution of unwanted Second Chance citizens made my father’s description of Garden City sound like paradise. Well organized, they had a plan to train an army and overthrow Garden City headquarters that piqued my father’s interest, but they’d been Exiled without their weapons. Without the right arsenal any attack would be fruitless. They’d either have to bring munitions from Earth, or gain access to Military City’s vast supply. The latter would require crossing the Eco barrier, an impossible feat without insider information. At nightfall, the Militants were sent along to join my father’s band of Exilers, with promises that my father would return soon to hear more of their plans to shift the balance of power on Thera.