“You left me for another man?” I ask with pretend insult. “That hurts, Joan.”
She smirks. “Maybe you should’ve learned how to treat your partner better, Erik.”
“Ouch, Joan. Ouch.”
There’s something different between us now. I’ve never tried to joke with her before tonight. She’s definitely only ever used a brisk, businesslike tone with me until now.
“Hey, Joan,” I say. “Will you tell me about how the rebels started? How did we all end up here?”
She hesitates. Cal’s told me tons of stories, hopeful they’d spark something in my black hole of missing memories, and always patient when they didn’t. But I never wanted to ask him how it all started. I was too afraid. But now that my memories seem to be coming back, I want to know. I need to know.
“Well,” she says, and her hands clasp each other over the railing as she leans farther over it, “it was just you and Sara at first. The two of you picked me and Cal up off the streets, and for a while, it was just the four of us. We didn’t know where to go from there. You and Sara were serious about wiping out the ungifted. Me and Cal, I think we both just wanted a place to go. I know I couldn’t have cared less about making war against the sectors at the time. The four of us eventually left the sector to explore Outside, try to find a place we could live in peace. We found the underground tunnels by chance. When we went back to recruit more gifted, you and Sara helped Devin out of a fight, and he came along worshipping the both of you.”
A laugh stumbles out of me. “Devin used to worship me? You can’t be serious.”
She shakes her head, eyes never leaving the city below us. “It’s true. He used to idolize you, just like he does Sara now. When you and I sort of became a thing, he was disgusted. He said you’d become weak and started to resent you. After your disappearance and then reappearance on the sector’s side, things only got worse.”
It’s too hard to imagine. All of it.
I don’t know if Joan can pick up on my anxiety, but she keeps going. “Eventually, Gabriel, Sara’s old friend, came to find us. And as word of us spread, more Nytes came to join us, trying to find a place to live without fear. Some of them wanted to fight. Some didn’t. But we got to the point that we could finally organize actual resistance. We started with the raids and—well, you probably know the rest from there.” Her eyes soften. “But the four of us—you, me, Sara, Cal—no matter how many people we gained, it was always us. We used to joke and spar together and talk about how one day, we’d make a world where the gifted could live freely.”
Her eyes rise to meet the solid ground above us, hiding us, protecting us, crushing us. “But you know, Erik, I never wanted to kill all the Etioles.” Her eyes fall again, and her voice with them. “If we weren’t so dead-set on total elimination of the ungifted being the only way to gain peace for Nytes, would Paul have had to die? He was so kind. He never wanted to hurt anyone. He always told me he wished the rebels would try a more peaceful approach, but I ignored him. I thought he was just too much of an idealist to understand—I thought this war, at least, was necessary, if not killing every Etiole. But now I wonder. What if we had tried something different? What if instead of an ambush, we really had tried to negotiate peace at that meeting with your team?” Again, her eyes rise almost unconsciously upward, like she’s looking for a light that she’s forgotten isn’t actually there. “Would Paul have lived?”
I follow Joan’s gaze up to the underside of the ground way above us, too thick to let any light in—and yet, I feel better pretending that I can almost see it trickling through. “I don’t know.”
* * *
I go to Cal’s room once the base starts actually waking up. He opens his door expectantly and we head to the small training room on the second floor to spar, same as just about every morning I’ve been here.
Cal fights a lot like Lai—fast and light. Unlike Lai, his single hits aren’t all that strong, but he’s able to stack them until his opponent gives way. He beat me easily when we started this routine about a week after I rejoined the rebels, but always with surprise. “You’ve always been stronger than me,” he said. “Always.”
He didn’t say it, but I knew he was disappointed. In my almost four months in the military, I didn’t train a whole lot. Finding out about my memories was always my first priority, and practicing to fight felt like a waste of time when I could easily use my telekinesis to win. But with Gabriel’s gift around on both sides, I can’t rely on that anymore.
So Cal and I began training almost daily, for hours, to the point that I can now match him. It almost felt like my body knew it used to be stronger. I started leaning into patterns I didn’t know I had. I moved more easily, more quickly, like I was falling into a rhythm. It made me feel better. Like I was settling back into my own skin.
In our second hour of sparring, Cal hits the ground laughing. “Glad to see you’ve got your old strength back.”
A grin slips out as I help him stand. “Thanks. Want to take a break?”
“Oho, so you’re giving up now, are you?”
I shove him and he laughs again. “Not a chance. I just thought you were looking pretty damn tired.”
He throws a hand over his chest like he’s offended. “Me? Of course not.”
My smile widens. Of all the rebels, Cal is definitely my favorite. There’s something about him that I can click with, like we’ve always been best friends. I mean, apparently we were. But it doesn’t feel that way since I don’t remember it. I wonder what he thinks when we’re together. Is it like nothing’s changed? Or am I a completely different person to him now? I can never bring myself to ask.
“And here I am giving you a good excuse for why you lost,” I say. “I can’t believe you didn’t take it.”
“Please,” he says with a sniff. “I make my own excuses, thanks.”
“I figured you were running out at this rate.”
“Oh, I never run out of excuses, Erik.”
We both laugh again, and it’s the best I’ve felt in weeks. I’m glad Cal’s always willing to give up his mornings for me even though Ellis constantly has him running around.
“So what are your plans for the day?” I ask as we sit on the ground. The training room is a small space with nothing in it except a few racks of sticks for makeshift weapons. We usually bring our own real ones.
“Well, let’s see.” Cal’s hands grip his water bottle as he leans back, legs straight out in front of him. “I have to file a report for my last mission, update the troops on the upcoming raid I’m leading, run a few errands for Sara, and maybe eat or sleep at some point.”
“Sleep is so overrated.”
“Yeah, well.” He knocks his shoulder against mine. “So what are you up to? Wait, let me guess. Building models?”
“Oh, you are good.” I don’t mention the meetings lined up with Ellis and some of the other rebels, or the tasks I’ve been assigned myself. Cal already knows about them. At least I’ll get to meet with Gabriel again tonight. At the thought of him, my ears feel hot, but I try to ignore it.