Exodia (26 page)

Lydia allowed herself a giggle. “Your
clothes are still too weird.”

“
You’ll be surprised at how
well I’ll fit in at the capitol. And what are you going to wear, my
lady?”

“
I’ll find something in my
mother’s closet. And stop calling me that. This isn’t some sort of
fairy tale.”

“
Oh, but it might be.”
Barrett clucked his tongue a few times while he took a small
package from his backpack. He pulled out a ball of material. One
shake and a beautiful blue silken dress shimmered and
billowed.

She grabbed it from his hands and held
it up to her neck. “Beautiful. Thanks. But it looks a little too
big.”

“
On purpose. You need to
wear your regular clothes underneath. We may have to do the
Cinderella thing at midnight.”

* * *

They arrived at the capitol guard gate
in an approved vehicle borrowed from a Blue sympathizer. The
license would not arouse any suspicions. They parked and walked to
the entrance where another guard escorted them on to a waiting room
and left them unattended.

Barrett noted Lydia’s apprehension.
“Nervous? That’s not your style.”

“
I was just thinking about
the punishment for breaking the law against
intermarriage.”

“
Intermarriage? You’re not
going to marry this guy. This is just a date.” He studied her face
and added, “Dating is not a crime and besides,” he glanced around
the room, “everybody here is a Blue.” He wanted to wink at her, but
wasn’t sure if they were being observed from some hidden
device.

“
You’re here as my chaperon.
Think about it. Every political marriage in our lifetime, heck
every Blue marriage, has involved the proper announcement,
chaperon, tattoo verification, and so on.” Lydia crossed her
arms.

“
I thought you’d only met
this Jamie once.”

“
That’s right, but he was
very, um, attracted to me and said that his father’s new wife was
going to arrange a marriage for him unless he found someone on his
own. He asked me to come with a chaperon.”

“
But Lydia …”

“
I know, I know. I should’ve
told you,” she tapped her elbow, “but I thought maybe I could help
the … you know … and look how convenient this turned
out.”

Barrett’s eyes darted around the room.
He moved as close as possible and whispered near her ear. “We’ll
get in, get what we need, and leave.”

The waiting room door opened and they
turned toward it. Lydia’s demeanor changed abruptly.

“
Jamie!”

Barrett sized him up in a heartbeat.
Privileged. Superficial. Jamie benefited from a social position
similar to what Dalton had grown up accustomed to, but he was
flaunting it with unbridled arrogance.

“
This is my chaperon, uh,
Bar…Barry.” She stumbled over the introduction, startled at how
similar Jamie’s clothes were to Barrett’s.

Barrett suppressed the habit to offer
his left elbow. Instead he stretched his right hand out for a warm
handshake, Blue-style. Only Reds tapped elbows. He could have blown
it.

“
Nice to meet you, Barry.
Your presence is required when we go in to dine, but, if you don’t
mind, I’d like to show Lydia around the place first. You’re welcome
to go in and sample the hors d'oeuvres in the reception room and
wait there for us.”

Barrett gave Lydia a questioning look
and she quickly spoke up, “That’ll be fine. Right, Barry?” She
smiled when he nodded. “How long will we be, Jamie?”

“
Mm, an hour, more or less.”
He took her hand and turned her toward the door, dismissing Barrett
without another word.

Barrett walked out behind them and
crossed over to the reception room. His nonchalance was
well-practiced and he knew he could fit in. He had memorized a
diagram of the building that Dalton made for him. Though he had
been in and out of certain areas of the capitol he had never gone
higher than the second floor. With the diagram, his exceptional
gemfry abilities, and Lydia’s distracting beauty, he was confident
he could pull this off.

There were no soldiers in the room,
only kitchen help, and a handful of pseudo-important people,
secretaries probably, who lingered over the hot hors d’oeuvres.
They ignored him. He filled a plate with one of everything and
sauntered back out to the hallway. A quick listen and he determined
exactly where Lydia and Jamie were. He headed to the
stairwell.

* * *

Lydia kept a smile on her face and a
tight grip on Jamie’s hand as they went up the stairs. She had to
lift the hem of the dress to keep from tripping on it. When they
reached the first landing Jamie recited a list of important people
who worked and lived on that floor. Lydia nodded and smiled,
masking her real reaction. The names were not unfamiliar to her;
she had no benevolent feelings for any of these Blues.

“
And they help your father
make policy? I’d love to see the Sessions Room.” She dropped his
hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“
Really? Great minds think
alike. That’s exactly where I had them set up our
appetizers.”

“
Oh, we’re not eating in the
dining room with … with my chaperon?” She pointed back down the
stairs.

Jamie’s cockeyed grin and shy eyes gave
Lydia a funny feeling. Strange, she might have liked him if they
were both Blues, or both Reds.

“
I thought we could have
some time to talk privately. I, uh, I’ve never met anyone as
beautiful as you.”

It was a phrase she heard often and
usually ignored. Tonight she matched the compliment with a lie.
“And I’ve never met anyone as handsome who lived in the capitol.”
On impulse she asked, “Did you know Dalton Battista when he was
here?”

“
Sure. Can you keep a
secret?” He took her hand again and led her up the next flight. As
she nodded her head he continued, “Dalton was … well, I looked up
to him when he was here. We had classes together. Nobody knew he
was really a Red. In fact, my stepmother still insists he’s
Blue.”

“
But the
prophecies–”

“
I know, anyway, keep this
to yourself: my father is deathly afraid of Ronel. His Krona keep
giving him psychic warnings. That’s the reason Dalton is out of
prison and still alive.”

“
Why doesn’t your dad just
let the Reds go have their silly festival?”

They reached the Sessions Room floor
and Jamie held the door for her.

“
For a lot of reasons. First
of which is he’s just plain stubborn. But, really, do you think
they’d come back if they ever got free of their workload? The
taxes?”

“
Probably not,” she agreed,
more truth on her tongue than he knew.

* * *

A soldier passed Barrett, gave him the
once over, and walked on. If he only knew, Barrett thought. He
recognized the soldier, one who had chased him with a whip more
than once when he used to climb over the fence and slip into the
kitchen. He could still smell the soldier. He chuckled to himself.
Here he was, disguised, sauntering up the forbidden halls and
stairs, munching on food that was far too good for Reds. He held a
stuffed chili up to his nose and filled his nostrils with the spicy
scent before biting off half. He reached the first landing and
finished the chili. There was a stronger scent here, pleasant,
familiar.

* * *

A tray of appetizers sat on the table.
There were twelve thickly padded chairs around the table, more
comfortable-looking than any Lydia had ever seen. She almost made a
comment to that effect then remembered that for tonight she was a
Blue who would expect a little luxury, though she had Blue
neighbors as poor as she was. Being Blue was a privilege, a
mind-set, an attitude. She gave her hair a toss and settled into
the chair Jamie pulled out for her. She wondered if Bear could be
sneaking into the Archives now.

“
Try the stuffed tomato
first.” Jamie sat next to her and angled his chair. He waited until
she put a couple on her plate then he helped himself to several.
“Good, huh?”

“
Delicious.”

They munched and smiled and exchanged
pleasantries for a few minutes until Jamie took her hand and
cleared his throat. Lydia thought she knew what he was going to
say. She interrupted his first word, squeezed his hand and said, “I
heard that you were an expert in Red prophecy. Aren’t there any
Blue prophecies?” It was a total spur of the moment invention, but
Jamie grinned.

“
Funny you should ask. My
father put me in charge of the archives when he was elected. You
know what a library is, right? Books?”

Lydia furrowed her brow but
nodded.

“
You sure?”

“
Well …”

“
Don’t be embarrassed. Only
the elite of the elite even have access to books anymore. Since the
Suppression, you know. Hey, you want to see the
archives?”

Lydia tensed. If she said yes and they
caught Barrett in there searching they’d be found out, imprisoned.
But if she said no she’d appear rude. She gave a little nod.
“Sure,” she said, neither too eager nor too reluctant.

“
We’ll take these with us,”
Jamie said, lifting the tray.

As they stepped into the hall Lydia
hoped Barrett’s exceptional hearing could pick out her voice from
wherever he was. “So, we’re heading to the archives. Is it in this
wing?”

“
It is. Along with my
father’s office.”

“
And it’s all right for you
to take me into the archives?”

“
Absolutely. It’s pretty
much my domain.”

“
Is your father working in
his office? Should I meet him?”

Jamie gave a hollow laugh. “You’re
amazing. Most girls tremble at the idea of coming face to face with
him. You wouldn’t be afraid?”

“
Well, no, I thought that
was the point of the dinner tonight. Because you told me to bring a
chaperon.” Lydia gave a sigh, tried to look shy, prim
even.

“
Actually he’s away or this
hallway would be crawling with security. It’s my stepmother who’s
handling this dinner.”

“
Oh.” Lydia took the tray
from him as Jamie fished in his belt sack for something. He drew
out a key and wiggled it.

“
We don’t make keys like
this anymore. I was lucky enough to find it when I began
re-organizing this room. Now nobody comes in here except me.” He
unlocked the door and took back the tray as Lydia stepped
in.

Dalton had told them to expect a dark
and dusty room in disarray, but Jamie flicked on overhead lights
that showed a neatly structured display of various
collections.

Jamie set the tray down and swung his
arm from shelf to shelf. “SCR’s, videos, audio boxes, CD’s, BD’s,
Ereaders, old ledgers, and, as I told you, books. Real, physical
books.”

Lydia walked to the shelf across from
the ledgers and looked at the spines of the old books. Her heart
rate accelerated as she tried to think of something to do or say
that would give her an opportunity to check the ledgers
surreptitiously.

“
And the prophecies? Are
they recorded in these books? You were about to tell me if there
were any Blue prophecies or not.”

Jamie took her by the shoulders and
pivoted her around to face the ledgers. “Right here,” he said. “But
I don’t know about prophecies. I’ve skimmed these. They sound more
like poetry or songs or something.” He took the top one off the
shelf. “And look,” he said, “this one has its first few pages torn
out. I think my father did that. He’s had me searching for these
for three years, but I keep telling him I haven’t found them yet.
That way I can keep working here instead of, you know, going into
the service.”

“
Can I see?” Lydia held her
hand out, concentrating on keeping it steady. She gave the first
couple of pages the briefest of glances and made the same
pronouncement. “Yeah, you’re right. Just songs or nonsense.” She
set the notebook back on top of the other three. They were small.
She could easily hide them in the belt sack that hung from this
fancy dress, but how could she do that with Jamie standing right
there?

“
Check this out.” Jamie led
her over to a wall of bins where he opened one and drew out an odd
machine. “It took me six months to fix this but I finally figured
it out. He waved his hand over the top and a three dimensional
image of a man appeared above it. The man was vigorously making
gestures. His mouth was moving and he looked like he was giving
serious instructions to someone.

“
I’m pretty sure this is the
last president before the Eurasian Nuclear War. I’m still working
on getting the sound.”

A chill went up Lydia’s arms. “And you
think this is a Blue prophecy?”

“
That’s what I’m hoping.
Something to help us against Dalton and Ronel.”

Lydia stared at the spirited
figure.

“
My father’s afraid of them.
One of his Krona has warned him not to harm a single hair on
Dalton’s head.” Jamie puffed his chest out and bragged, “But I’d
take him out in a heartbeat.”