David is the first to speak. “What is that
symbol?”
Elena is suddenly furious. She grabs Beck by the
arm. “Wash that off
right now.
We will not have this
discussion. I don’t ever want to see that symbol again.”
Beck is defiant. “My father wore this
symbol.”
“They left your father to
die,
Rebecca.
He gave them everything he had, and they left him. You can honor
your father by believing what he believed, but we will have nothing
to do with those people. Now go wash it off.”
Beck does as her mother instructs. Elena turns
to us and sighs. The anger is gone; only heartache remains. “My
husband Aaron was a member of a group called The Third Stone. That
is their symbol. They fight for equality. They fight for reform.
They fight for a voice in our government. Despite the fact that The
Third Stone is a non-violent activist group, they have been labeled
a terrorist organization by The Sententia. The Sententia will not
tolerate being questioned.”
My mother was a member of a radical activist
group? My father had certainly never mentioned that. It’s a wonder
that they fell in love; my father worked for the very organization
that my mother sought to reform.
Elena continues, “Before we went into hiding,
Aaron organized a protest outside of Vox headquarters. The Third
Stone had never held such a public demonstration before, but Aaron
was sure that if we could show The Sententia how the people really
felt, they would allow us to be represented on the council. That
particular day, The Third Stone would protest the use of Earth
Banishment as a punishment for crimes. This sentence was viewed as
too harsh; it did not give the convicted the opportunity to be
rehabilitated.”
I look at David. Earth Banishment?
David knows my question before I have to ask.
“Violet, sometimes, The Sententia decides that a person’s crime is
too severe for a labor sentence, but an execution is too private.
Sometimes, they want to make an example. If The Sententia feels
that a person acted with malice to the government, that person is
sentenced to Earth Banishment.”
My mind is reeling. David was right.
Dread
and Fear. To remind us that they brought us here, and they can send
us back.
My voice is quiet when I speak. “What happened
to him, Elena?”
“Aaron was leading the protest. They had only
been demonstrating for a few minutes before they were surrounded.
The Vox did not give them a chance to disperse. They were not given
the opportunity to go quietly. The protestors were overtaken
physically. They did not fight. They did not resist. They were
taken into the headquarters, and they did not come out.
“Outside of Vox headquarters, there is a large
platform that stands only a few inches above the street. In the
center of the platform is a statue, a towering stone replica of
their symbol.” My mind recalls the Inspector who came for me at
Nineteen. The patch on his sleeve bore the symbol that Elena speaks
of, the V with two orbs. Elena continues. “The next day, my husband
sat on that platform. Around his ankle was a shackle that led to a
chain bolted to the base of the monument. The chain was long enough
for Aaron to move about six feet in any direction, but he could not
reach the edge. Positioned next to the monument was a small table,
and on that table was a single pill. A giant placard labeled him a
criminal. His crime was treason, and his sentence was death.
“It was decided that my husband would die, but
he was given a choice: take the pill and surrender, or suffer with
his pride intact. Aaron did not take the pill. He refused to give
them the satisfaction.
“On the second day, a woman approached the
platform with a bowl of water. A guard stepped between her and the
stage. He did not try to stop her with force. He said only, ‘Give
it to him and you’ll join him.’ The woman remained standing there
for several moments. She looked from the guard to the stage and
then back again. Slowly, defeated, she lowered the hand that held
the bowl, spilling its contents onto the street.
“After that, people just walked by as if Aaron
was not there. He never cried. He never begged. He never
apologized. And no one,
no one
from The Third Stone ever
came to his aid. They stood among the onlookers. They watched him
die. But they never stepped forward.”
The pain that she feels is no longer confined to
her voice. Elena cries as she finishes the story. Beck sits at her
mother’s feet, holding her hand. “It took him six days to die. For
six days, my husband remained silent. He sat in clothes soiled by
his own waste. He felt his body fail him. He watched everyone in
Summus walk by as if he was not sitting there dying. On the evening
of the sixth day, he lay down on the platform and he closed his
eyes. The next morning, to be sure that he was dead, one of The Vox
shot him in the head. His body was removed, and we never saw him
again.”
“You never heard from The Third Stone?” It is
David who speaks. I am too sickened to formulate words.
“Oh, we heard from them. They came to Beck and
me that morning. They told us that The Vox would come for us; it’s
no good to have family members of executed criminals stirring up
dissent with their grief. They told us that we had to disappear.
They offered us a place with them, but I refused. They see my
husband as a martyr for their cause. They don’t see him as an
individual; to them he was a necessary casualty. I don’t want to be
part of this battle anymore. Haven’t we lost enough?”
We are all silent. Elena and Beck have lost more
than enough.
Finally, I speak. “What happened to the other
arrested protestors?”
“Banished. Sent to Earth on the very transport
that they were protesting.”
David responds, “Some say Earth Banishment is a
fate worse than execution.”
Elena meets his gaze and responds coldly, “I’d
invite anyone who says that to suffer my husband’s death.”
With that, this conversation is over.
* * *
Elena has told us that we can stay here with
them, but I want to leave as soon as possible. I have put enough
people in danger, and Elena has already endured more pain than
anyone should. When we settle on a laundry heap to go to sleep,
David pulls my body close to his, and I rest my head in the crook
of his arm. I pull my father’s watch from my pocket and press the
latch. The door swings open, and I tilt the watch toward David so
he can see the photograph inside.
“It belonged to my father.”
“Is that your mother?”
“Yes. She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”
David nods and hugs me to him.
I smile sadly. “I look more like my father.”
David places his bent index finger beneath my
chin and tilts my head up so he can make eye contact with me.
“Violet, you’re the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen.”
Yesterday, I wanted nothing more than to hear
these words. I wanted nothing more than confirmation that David has
the same romantic feelings for me that I have for him. But tonight
as he looks into my eyes and says everything that I want to hear, I
can’t help but wonder,
Did you betray me? Did you give my
sketchbook to The Alter?
That discussion will have to wait for another
time and place. I shift the conversation back to my mother’s
photograph. “David, look at her wrist.”
He squints in the semi-darkness to see the
detail of the photograph. “That’s the symbol Beck drew on her arm,”
David whispers.
I nod. “The symbol for The Third Stone.”
David is silent for a moment. I can tell he’s
thinking. “Violet, if your mother was involved with these people,
and we know that your father defected from The Vox at some point,
maybe they’d have some information about what your father was
doing. Maybe they can even help us. One thing’s for sure, we’ve got
to find this artifact before The Vox does.”
I nod in agreement. “I was thinking exactly the
same thing.”
“Should we ask Elena? She’s not involved with
The Third Stone, but I bet she could take us to them.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think we should
involve Elena. She’s been through enough. Besides, she probably
wouldn’t tell us anything anyway. It’s clear how much she hates
them.”
“Come on, Violet. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. We’ll
leave first thing tomorrow, but we can’t afford to pass up any
leads.”
I hate to admit it, but David is right. At this
point, I have no idea what we should do next. Elena may be our only
chance to find The Third Stone.
When we wake up, Elena has already heated some
stew for breakfast. I’m surprised at how hungry I am. David is just
as excited. “It feels like it’s been forever since I had some real
food! How did you get this? I could hardly scrounge up some stale
bread and moldy cheese when I went looking before.”
Elena smiles. “Well, don’t get too excited. It’s
preserved. Beck and I found some non-perishables that were
forgotten in a few of the units. We’ve got enough food to last us
awhile. Here, put a few of these jars in your bag… Who knows how
long it will be before you come across anything.”
I hug her. “Elena, thank you so much for
everything. Good fortune to you both.” She nods. As I turn to hug
Beck goodbye, I hear David begin to speak.
He says, “Elena, there’s one more thing. Can you
tell us how to find The Third Stone?”
I turn just in time to see Elena’s smile
disappear. Her face hardens and just before she turns her back on
us, I hear her say, “Follow the symbol.”
I am sorry to have alienated Elena, but it was
our only option. The Third Stone is the only connection we have
found, and we must pursue it. Her clue is not of much help, though.
David and I have no choice but to walk the streets of Summus in the
hopes of finding a trail of symbols.
After hiding in the apartment building for the
last few days, I find walking around in the open to be very
uncomfortable. My uneasiness must show, because David says,
“Violet, stop acting so suspicious. Just act natural and no one
will give us a second look.” I make a concerted effort to relax. I
try to take in the grandeur of Summus. A month ago, I might have
been elated to be in this very place. Walking around this gigantic
city holding hands with David would have been my dream come true. I
guess a lot changes when you’re an escapee suspected of hiding
priceless pieces of alien technology. Besides that, I’m still not
sure how The Alter came to possess my sketchbook. Sometime,
probably sooner rather than later, I’m going to have to confront
David. For now, I just try to relax.
Around midmorning, David and I both begin to
grow weary. We’ve been walking for miles, and still no sign of any
symbols. In truth, Summus truly is something to behold. Every
skyscraper is larger or more appealing than the one before. The
sheer magnitude of these structures is enough to make me feel
inconsequential. Despite all of this, I am glad I have no strong
recollections of my time here. The pace here is too quick, and the
proximity of all of these buildings is stifling. I like the open
spaces of Eligo.
I do not fail to notice all of the propaganda
that has been placed throughout the city by The Sententia. A city
block does not go by without some type of poster or billboard
extolling the benefits of our all-powerful high council. Many are
like the one that I saw in Eligo. Sharply angled silhouettes of
soldiers are illustrated with captions that read things like
The
Vox: The Voice of the People,
or maybe
The Vox: First to
Protect.
Others simply portray the symbol of The Vox. In some
parts of the city, an audio track loops constantly, giving
favorable statistics about life on Cerno. The voice is a female
with an unnaturally cheerful inflection. As we pass, I hear her
say, “
Since the implementation of the Gilbert Griffin Graham
Mental Aptitude Examination for Appropriate Placement of Youths,
the unemployment rate on Cerno has been less than one
percent…”
As we turn the corner, we come within a few feet
of several V1’s. I tense up immediately, and David puts his arm
around my shoulder in an effort to conceal my reaction. Luckily,
the men are too busy with their task to notice me. They are working
to repair a billboard that appears to have been vandalized. It was
once emblazoned with the Vox emblem, the capital V with two orbs.
However, this image has since been altered by someone, and The Vox
is scurrying to correct it. An inverted capital V has been drawn on
top of the other to create the shape of a diamond. Overlapping this
diamond, another has been drawn, creating a third diamond in its
center. The Third Stone.
The vandalism does not end there. Another orb
has been added just above the other two. An arrow points to this
third orb and a message that has been painted in deep red reads:
Have you forgotten?
David and I rush past; we don’t want to
be seen showing interest in the perversion of a government
symbol.
When we reach the next corner, I notice a man
selling pamphlets. His facial hair is heavy and he wears a cap
pulled almost all the way down to his brow. I attempt to walk past
him without making eye contact, but he angles himself so that I
cannot help but cross his path. He holds out a pamphlet. “Paper,
miss?” His voice is raspy and deep. I begin to shake my head and
smile apologetically until I notice something. He’s holding the
booklet out to me, and I can see, just barely peeking out from the
sleeve of his coat, the interlocking diamonds. This man is a member
of The Third Stone. Wordlessly, I shake my head. Unsure of what to
do, I hesitate before walking away. David stands beside me,
waiting. He has seen it, too. The man sees me looking at his wrist
and drops his hand. He catches my eye as he begins to speak. “You
know, you look really familiar. Where have I seen you before?”