Chapter Sixteen
Cara paced the waiting area to Alona’s private-audience chamber, wishing more than anything that Aelyx were here. He’d know what to do. He’d remind her of the eleventy dozen rules for proper behavior during a hearing with an Elder—when to sit and stand, whether to pick up the speaker’s baton for a one-on-one meeting, how to ask sensitive questions like, You’re not going to execute me for this, are you? Aelyx would demonstrate the slight nuance in pressure and timing that marked the difference between a greeting and a grope when touching the left side of the throat. And more importantly, he’d hold her close and kiss the sweet spot behind her ear and whisper, Don’t worry, Elire. You can do this.
Cara wasn’t sure she could do this.
She’d only been here fifteen minutes, and already she’d stained the front of her tunic with her sweaty palms. The Aegis guard was inside with Alona right now, no doubt filling her head with tales of Cara’s sociopathic hijinks. Silent Speech could save Cara, but what if she opened her mind and all her secrets came flooding out? She’d harbored some traitorous thoughts against The Way, especially about Jaxen and Aisly. Cara hoped Alona wouldn’t punish her for that, but she didn’t know what to expect.
The chamber door whispered open.
“Come,” the Aegis guard said, waving Cara inside the small, dim chamber. He narrowed his eyes and touched the iphal holstered at his side.
Message received. He didn’t trust her alone with the head Elder, which kind of stung. Cara had never hurt anyone. Well, except that one time she busted Marcus Johnson’s knee with a baseball bat, but that didn’t count. He’d aimed his rifle at Aelyx’s chest, and she’d had to skew his shot. Besides, he’d used that same rifle to smash her face. Under normal circumstances, Cara wouldn’t even bait a fishing hook because she found it cruel to the worm.
“It’s all right,” Alona’s droning voice called from inside. “Come and be heard.”
Cara crept into the chamber, flinching when the door shut behind her. Unlike the vast hearing room aboard the transport, this enclosure wouldn’t accommodate all ten members of The Way. Only two seats stood on the beige-carpeted floor: a plush ottoman Alona occupied and a simple stool about five paces from her. A slender skylight provided the only illumination, casting a beam over Alona as if she were a deity. Which she was, in a way. No one on L’eihr wielded more power than this graying slip of a woman.
“Sit,” she instructed, and Cara obeyed. The warmth—for lack of a better word—Cara had detected in Alona’s gaze on Sh’ovah day was gone, replaced by cold indifference. It seemed the guard had succeeded in blackening Cara’s name. With a hurry up motion, Alona ordered, “State your grievance.”
Cara swallowed a lump of fear. “I’m here to defend myself from false accusations. Someone at the Aegis has committed a series of crimes and made me look like the guilty party.”
“The evidence against you is damning,” Alona said. “How do you refute it?”
This was it. Time to bust out the big guns.
But Cara had never used Silent Speech from so far away. She wasn’t sure she could project from her seat to Alona’s. She lifted her stool and scooted nearer, practically giving the guard a stroke in the process. He gasped aloud and moved to draw his iphal. Alona seemed startled, too, stiffening in her seat.
“It’s okay,” Cara assured Alona with raised palms. “I just want to look you in the eyes.”
Alona regained her composure, but her voice darkened with irritation. “My vision is unimpaired. I can see you quite well from here.”
Cara nodded and latched her gaze on to Alona’s faded chrome irises. She isolated the region in her brain she’d discovered that morning and told the Elder, I’m innocent, then closed the connection between them and waited for a reaction.
Alona’s response didn’t disappoint. Slowly, her eyes widened in perfect conjunction with her mouth. If the lighting were better, Cara could’ve performed a dental exam. Alona flicked a glance at the guard and ordered, “Leave us.”
The man drew a breath and hesitated a beat, but he didn’t argue. Within moments, he was gone, and Cara reopened her mind to the head Elder.
How did you do that? Alona asked, her feelings of shock and amazement bleeding into Cara’s mind.
Aelyx taught me what he could, Cara said. And Elyx’a has been helping me practice. No one else knows, and I’d like to keep it that way. She tried her best to focus on words alone, but an image of Jaxen and Aisly materialized in Cara’s head, along with a fear that they’d try other methods of brainwashing if they knew their memory control hadn’t worked on her.
Alona fell silent awhile before claiming, “Mind control is impossible, Cah-ra.”
It didn’t escape Cara’s notice that Alona had spoken aloud instead of using Silent Speech. Apparently, they both had secrets to keep.
“But,” Alona continued, “I’m intrigued that your human brain can process mental dialogue. This lends credence to the theory that we share a common lineage.”
Ancestry was the last thing on Cara’s mind. “I’m just glad I was able to convince you I’m innocent. A few weeks ago, someone stole an instructor’s tablet and hid it in my room, and then they poisoned Dahla’s breakfast. I thought she was doing it, but I was wrong. Whoever it is wants me expelled.”
Or executed.
It occurred to Cara that the criminal could have simply killed her, which would be easier than framing her for a capital crime. Maybe her death wasn’t the only goal.
“Allow me to apologize on behalf of the guilty party.” The slight inflection in Alona’s tone might not have seemed significant to the average human, but it told Cara the Elder was majorly pissed. “Rooting out the culprit will be simple. I’ll order the guards to perform a mental interview with every clone in your Aegis until the individual is found.” With a nod, she added, “And then neutralized.”
Cara didn’t like the sound of that. “You mean killed?”
“Of course. It is our way.”
Cara folded her hands and tried to keep her voice from shaking. “Can I request another form of punishment? I don’t think I could stand it if someone died because of me.”
“The individual in question would perish because of his or her poor choices, not because of you.”
Cara widened her eyes and opened her consciousness, allowing her Elder to feel the dread that crawled over her skin like a wet frost. Execution would punish me, too. Along with anyone who cares for the criminal. Dahla and I deserve justice, but there must be another way.
You humans and your sentimental notions of rehabilitation. Alona sighed. However, I suppose this is what we wanted—to infuse our progeny with a breath of humanity. She closed her mind and reflected for a moment. “I will give it some thought.”
At least that wasn’t a no.
“In the meantime,” Alona droned, “I’m ordering a change in your schedule. Your talents, as much as they’re appreciated, are wasted in the nursery. Each day after your morning calisthenics, I want you to report here and join the colony development panel. As our resident human, I believe your input will prove useful in creating a charter.”
Cara drew a hopeful breath. “You want me to help form a government?” Her world studies teacher back home would be so proud.
“Yes.” Alona studied her. “I sensed hesitation within you—a disruption in your resolve to join the colony.”
Heat infused Cara’s cheeks as she wondered what else she’d let slip during Silent Speech. Hopefully nothing too embarrassing.
“The choice is yours, but it is my hope that you’ll stay.” Though it was hard to tell with the older generation, Alona sounded sincere. “I can’t promise a governing body akin to your America, but I give you my word that your concerns will be heard and addressed.”
“Thank you,” Cara said, and meant it. Democracy didn’t exist here, and for The Way, who’d ruled with an authoritative hand for thousands of years, this was a big step. “I’m honored by this opportunity.”
“Your morning notification will tell you where to report.” With a two-fingered salute, Alona dismissed her. “Please send in the guard on your way out.”
Cara returned the gesture and did as she was told. Uncertain of whether she should return to the Aegis, she scanned her wrist at the station by the front doors.
“Cah-ra Sweeney,” the computerized voice said. “You have no notifications.”
Business as usual, then. But after the bloody scene in the Aegis lobby, it was probably best to lay low until the guard announced her innocence and began an investigation. She walked back to the Aegis and snuck inside her room only long enough to retrieve her com-sphere, then jogged into the woods to call Aelyx.
She wouldn’t normally bother him at three in the morning, but she couldn’t wait to tell him what had happened. They talked for nearly an hour about everything from her breakthrough in Silent Speech to her close call at the Aegis. When they said good-bye, she felt lighter by five pounds.
Late that night, energized by fresh optimism, she uploaded a new blog post.