Contributor (Contributor Trilogy, book 1) (9 page)

Taking her by the shoulders, Letizia forced Dara to look at her. "I know it's going to feel impossible, but you have to do it."

Nodding weakly, Dara let Letizia propel her to her station. Ryan had already arrived, and she turned her head away, unable to deal with him. Fortunately for her, he was either too preoccupied or he possessed at least some modicum of human feeling, because he left her alone. More than once, she caught Javier looking at her with a concerned expression.

Though worry proceeded to gnaw a hole through her stomach, Dara found that work did help. Her engineering tasks were so complex that they left no leisure for her mind to wander. It was a relief to just shut her emotions out for a time, though she felt guilty about allowing herself any reprieve from her fears for her mother. The knowledge that her mother might be fighting for her very life crushed Dara like a lead weight.

"The best thing you can do for her is continue to focus as much as possible," Letizia said at lunch, as they sat in their usual spot.

Dara didn't even bother with her food; she had no appetite. Instead, she sipped water and stared off into space.

"I know."

"Do you?" Letizia asked forcefully.

Startled, Dara looked at her. "Yes, I do," she said firmly.

Letizia glanced around, looking as though she was measuring her words carefully, and Dara wondered if their seemingly safe little corner of headquarters was also bugged. "Your mother would want you to continue Contributing."

Nodding, Dara read between the lines of what Letizia told her. Just like her father, Dara could not afford to let the quality of her work slip. If there were to be any hope at all for their keeping her mother at home, both she and her dad would have to prove that they could still be valuable Contributors.

Chapter 12

Jonathan was waiting for her at the end of the day and he looped her arm through his wordlessly, steering her out of headquarters and into the crowded thoroughfares. She hadn't heard a word from her dad the whole day, and she had to assume that this was because there was nothing to report. Her stomach bubbled with acid, and she had a sour taste in her mouth. Was her mother's continued state of unconsciousness a sign that Leona wouldn't recover?

By the time they reached the med center, Dara had chewed the inside of her cheek bloody and ragged. She was quite sure her fingertips dug into Jonathan's arm, but he hadn't protested.

Her father met them inside, shaking his head sadly, his face drawn. "There haven't been any changes." Dara studied his face anxiously, beseechingly, but she knew there was nothing he could do.

The doctor emerged from a room and headed their way, a serious expression on his face.

"Contributor Morrow, Apprentice Morrow," he greeted them. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow as he looked at Jonathan.

"I'll just be over there," Jonathan said, gently trying to disengage himself from Dara, but she clung to him.

"No," Joshua said. "Stay, Jonathan. You're a member of our family."

"I don't want to interfere," Jonathan said.

"You're not," Joshua insisted. He nodded at the doctor.

"Her brain activity is good, but she's still unresponsive."

"Will she wake up?" Joshua asked, the words strangled.

"I'm sorry, Contributor Morrow, but we just can't say for certain. The indications are certainly good, but if she doesn't wake up in the next day or two, we may need to think about relocating her," he said, obviously trying to break the news gently.

"No," Dara said, the word a horrified whisper.

"But we can take care of her. We'll do everything we can to—" Joshua began, but the doctor held up a hand.

"Let's not worry about relocation for now. Let's wait and see if she recovers."

"Can we see her?" Dara asked.

"Yes, but only one at a time. And only immediate family members," he added, looking at Jonathan.

"Of course. I understand," Jonathan replied.

"Dad, you go see her first."

"Are you sure?" It was clear to her that he fought to restrain himself from running immediately to his wife's side.

"Yes. Go."

As soon as Joshua and the doctor were out of sight, Dara sank down onto a bench, dropping her head into her hands. Jonathan sat beside her, rubbing her back in circles.

"You heard what the doctor said, Dara. And you know your mom, she's strong. She'll wake up, I know she will," he said, his tone confident.

"What if she doesn't?" Dara asked, her voice small.

"She will. You'll see."

No matter how much she wanted to believe in his confidence, she couldn't deny her own anxiety. "Jon, when I go in there to see her, will you stay here with my dad? I'm so worried about him."

"You didn't even have to ask. I wouldn't leave him alone."

She permitted herself a few tears before taking several deep breaths. Drying her eyes, she raised her head once more and stared unseeingly at the generic walls of the med center. It felt like an eternity passed before her father returned, his face wet with tears as he sank down onto the bench. The doctor waited just outside of Leona's room, and he gestured to Dara.

"Jonathan will stay here with you, Dad." She squeezed his shoulder as she rose from her seat. His tears worried her, but she didn't want to add to his burden by showing him.

"Thank you," he said faintly.

Dara exchanged a worried glance with Jonathan, who began speaking softly to Joshua as she walked away.

"You may have five minutes," the doctor said as she entered the room. "She'll then need to rest."

"Okay," Dara replied, but her body went immobile, dread suffusing her from head to toe. All her life, her mother had been vibrant and strong, and Dara wasn't sure she could handle seeing her vulnerable.

Finally, she forced her feet to move. She didn't want to squander this time. Already, she could feel the seconds ticking away from her. She might never get them back, if the worst happened. Hastily, she pushed the thought aside.

The pallor of Leona's face, the colorlessness of her lips, belied the appearance of peaceful sleep. Still, her expression was smooth and serene. To Dara's relief, only a few tubes ran to her mother's body and, though she could see a screen monitoring her mother's brain activity, she didn't see any sign of where the machine was connected to Leona. Slowly, Dara sat next to the bed and carefully took her mother's hand in hers, finding it warm but limp, lifeless.

For a long moment, Dara just sat there and stared at her mother. Leona gave no sign of life, and only the soft beeps of the machines, the almost imperceptible rise and fall of her mother's chest told Dara that Leona hadn't yet slipped away. Dara's eyes filled with tears at the sudden flood of memories of her mother. Though a devoted Contributor, Leona had always had time for Dara, had always been a wonderful mother.

Dara remembered long afternoons in the park on her mother's day off. Unlike many of the mothers, Leona had always seemed fearless, and she had delighted in watching her daughter climb higher than all of the other kids.

Sometimes, when the park was deserted and Leona didn't need to worry so much about prying eyes or frowns of disapproval, she would climb up the jungle gym with her daughter and they would pretend to be pirates setting sail on a vast sea—not that Dara had ever seen a body of water. She knew about seas because Leona had one book, a precious object that she treasured but kept secreted in a closet. Every night, Leona had read Dara one fantastical story.

Leona was also one of the smartest people Dara knew. Her mother had always been the one who helped Dara come up with solutions to the thorniest, most difficult homework problems. When Dara was frustrated because she couldn't understand her instructors' explanations, Leona devised inventive ways of explaining things to Dara, and it would be as if someone had suddenly flicked a switch, the answer becoming crystal clear.

"Oh, Mom," Dara said, a few rogue tears slipping down her cheeks. She pressed her lips to her mother's hand. "Mom, I'm begging you. Please, please wake up. If you don't—" Her throat closed. She received no response from Leona's still form.

Taking a shaky breath, Dara tried a different tactic. "Do you remember that time when I was little and I tried to pour myself some juice, but I dropped the jug and the entire month's rations splattered all over the floor? I was so afraid you were going to yell at me, and I started crying my eyes out. At first, you looked angry, but then your face went all soft and you said that if we had a lake in our house, we might as well enjoy it while it lasted. And then you and I splashed and played in it, and by the time Dad found us, we were both horrible, sticky messes. I could tell he wanted to be mad at us, but he couldn't be. Instead, he just ordered us off to shower while he cleaned up."

Despite the seriousness of the current situation, the memory made Dara smile. One of her mother's machines, which had been blipping quietly, now emitted a steady stream of beeps. Alarmed, she half-rose from the chair, her hand clutching convulsively at her mother's.

"What did you do?" the doctor asked, rushing into the room and studying the monitor.

"Nothing, I... Is she okay? What's happening?" her voice cracked as it rose in panic.

"I'm sorry, I didn't meant to scare you," the doctor said, his words hurried. "This is actually a very good sign. I just wondered what you did to provoke this response from her. We haven't seen this much brain activity from her yet."

Dara felt a surge of hope. "I was telling her about one of my memories of the two of us."

"She must have heard you. Her brain activity increased for a minute or so, just before I came into the room."

"Should I do it again?"

"No, not right now." Though the doctor also looked hopeful, she could see the caution in his eyes. "But I think you should come back tomorrow and talk to her again."

"I will," Dara said eagerly.

"For now, let's leave her to rest."

"All right." She was reluctant to leave, but she didn't want to overtax her mother. Turning away from the doctor, she leaned over Leona, lightly brushing a few errant strands of hair back from her mother's forehead before kissing it.

"Goodbye, Mom. You rest, and I'll come back to see you tomorrow."

Again, the machine beeped, though not in the same way as it had when Dara had talked about the juice. The doctor looked thrilled, but he ushered Dara out of the room just the same. She practically skipped down the corridor, a smile so huge it felt like it was splitting her cheeks spreading across her face.

"What's happening?" her father asked. He had risen from the bench and was looking down the corridor, toward his wife's room.

"I told her about that time with the juice—remember? And when I did, her brain showed signs of increased activity."

"It did? That means—"

"It means that she heard me!" Dara threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"Oh, thank the Creators," he moaned, collapsing against his daughter. He hugged her tightly in return and, when she looked up at him, his cheeks were wet, but she knew they were happy tears.

"The doctor says she needs to rest now, but he wants me to come back tomorrow and talk to her about some more of my memories."

"Dara, this is...it's wonderful," Joshua breathed.

"I know. Isn't it?" She rose onto the tips of her toes so that she could kiss his cheek. "Come on, let's go home and have some dinner. Maybe we'll both be able to sleep tonight."

"Maybe." A look of shocked wonder spread over Joshua's face. Dara hugged her father once more and released him.

"This is fantastic news," Jonathan said. Sounding as elated as she felt, he clasped her to him.

For that moment, she felt as if all the fragmented pieces of her life had lined up once more, leaving her hopeful for the future. Her mother would recover, her family would remain intact, and she and Jonathan would fall back into their familiar rhythms.

Chapter 13

Dara lay awake the entire night, her mind sifting through memory after memory, trying to find the perfect one to share with her mother, the one that might magically make Leona open her eyes.

Though tired when she got ready for shift the next morning, she felt almost euphoric, thanks to a heady mixture of adrenaline and hope. She and her father were both able to eat a little more than they had the previous morning and, as he headed off with a kiss from her, his eyes looked brighter, more aware than they had the day before.