Stitch (16 page)

Alessa wasn’t sure how she felt about that.  Part of her was disappointed that Isaac didn’t remember her, but at the same time, she supposed she hadn’t remembered who he really was, either.  And who knew, maybe he
did
remember and was just keeping it to himself like her and Janie.

Janie interrupted Alessa’s thoughts to continue her report about Isaac.  “The producers actually already filmed the fire scene – it was all pyrotechnics, but I heard it was really convincing.  They made it look like Isaac passed out from the smoke and then the burning barn collapsed around him.  Really the whole thing was rigged, though.  According to our mole on the production team, they just gassed him and put him back in his cell to wait it out until you come to save him – once you do, they’re just going to reset his stitch to the day before the fire, as if it hadn’t happened yet.”

Alessa winced, thinking of Isaac undergoing another agonizing stitch.  She shook off the thought.  There was nothing she could do about it now, and she still had a list of other questions for Janie.

At the time Alessa had been captured, there still was not much known amongst the rebels about the inner workings of the dramas or, for that matter, the objectives of whoever was running Paragon.  Alessa turned over the list in her head and decided to start with the simple questions.  “What about everyone else here?  Isaac’s family and the other students – are they all in on it?”

Janie shook her head.  “Oh, no, no, they’re all like us.  Some are rebels, like Lizzie...”

“Yes, I remembered that…” Alessa cringed at the thought of whatever unfortunate turn had landed poor Lizzie back in the hands of the Ruling Class.

“Some are just people who got unlucky, stumbled across things they weren’t supposed to see.”

“How many of us are there?”

“Hundreds, I think.  There are all these different plotlines happening on the same set and a bunch of people from the Ruling Class editing behind the scenes.  They’re careful to show each drama only to efficiency units where no one should know the actors.  Even with the drugs, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if my own sister was on TV,” Janie explained, “so they try to avoid those situations by being deliberate about where they broadcast which dramas.  And of course, if there are any mishaps, that just means they have a new actor.”

“Why don’t they just kill us?”

Janie thought for a moment.  “That’s a good question.  We really haven’t found a good answer for that yet.”

“Okay…  What about their ultimate motives?  Do we know exactly what the Ruling Class is doing or why they’re keeping a blindfold over the workers?”

Janie shook her head.  “Not really.  It seems like it’s a small subset who’s behind all the bad stuff.  We’ve learned that many – most – of the people within the Ruling Class just think they’ve been elected by the workers to design a new constitution for our society.  They too watch the dramas, but they think they’re just entertainment, and they don’t know about the drugging.  They just live in this comfortable little bubble and don’t seem to realize that someone is orchestrating all this exploitation right under their noses.”

Janie loosed a weary sigh, obviously troubled by the challenges the rebels were facing.  “The problem is that no one has really figured out
who
is engineering everything, so our allies have been hesitant to spread the word of the resistance because they don’t know who to trust.  Plus, it would be hard to convince anyone in the Ruling Class that anything is amiss, since they’re all living in the lap of luxury, and disappearances and that sort of thing are much less common and much better covered up than they are for us.”

Alessa was surprised at how much and how little had changed.  Though the rebels had managed to recruit and train some talented new people, like Janie, it seemed that they were still no closer to answering some of the most basic questions about their enemies.  Most of this information was known when Joe first started with the rebels, and that was almost three years ago.

Alessa decided to refocus on their immediate situation.  “So, how are we getting out of here?”

Janie hesitated for a moment before she continued.  “As you’ve probably figured out by now, the producers are giving you an opportunity to steal Professor Liu’s ‘time machine’ and use it to get to Isaac.  What will really happen is that when you bring it here and turn it on, they’re going to gas the room so that you pass out, and when you wake up, you’ll be somewhere on Isaac’s set.  What we’re still figuring out is how to get you two
off
his set once you’re there.  There are a bunch of hidden utility tunnels and things like that since his is not a real house like this one, so we’re thinking maybe you can sneak out that way.  But it’s going to be tricky.  We’re still working on finding the right path.”

Alessa rolled the plan over in her mind.  “And where will
you
be during all of this?  How are you going to escape?”

Janie averted her eyes.  “We’re still figuring that out,” she looked up at Alessa reassuringly, “but it will be fine, don’t worry.”

Alessa was wary of Janie’s nonchalance, but she supposed it was unfair to expect her to have all the details before the plan was even complete.  Alessa wanted to thank Janie more explicitly for everything she’d done and tell her how full of pride it made her feel to see Janie so strong and independent and sharp.  But before she got the chance, she was blinded by a sudden flash from the lamp.  The lights had come back on.

Janie slipped right back into character, switching off her flashlight and handing it to Alessa.  “Well, I guess I don’t need to borrow this anymore.  I’m sorry, again, for the way I’ve been acting.  It was just stress with school and everything.  I’m sorry to have taken it out on you.”

Alessa squeezed her sister’s hand and tried to convey her appreciation in her eyes.  “It’s okay, Janie, really.  I’m just glad to have you back.”  Alessa hoped Janie caught her meaning.

Janie smiled.  “Okay, I’m going to get back to work on that paper.  Let me know how things go with your first day in the lab tomorrow.”

And with that, Janie exited, leaving Alessa to ponder her memories and her questions on her own once more.

28. Introspection

Over the following weeks, Alessa counted down the days to Professor Liu’s departure with anticipation.  She played along with the producers’ games, diligently visiting the lab every few days to receive her training, and in the evenings she and Janie huddled together, conspiring on plans to steal the equipment as soon as Alessa had the lab to herself.

Knowing that their “time travel” plot was only a ruse took much of the pressure off of Janie and Alessa’s plotting.  Though they debated the merits of different strategies and feigned distraction with their assignments and classes, they knew that whatever path they chose, the producers would ultimately make sure that their pilfering was successful.

Internally, however, both sisters anxiously fretted over their
true
plan: how they would orchestrate their upcoming escape.  They knew this would be their best – and probably only – chance to shake loose of Paragon’s crushing grip, and so
this
plan truly needed to be flawless.  It was a dangerous undertaking, and they knew they could surely count on the producers to try to thwart them at every turn.

Janie still had not received word from her rebel contacts about the details of their strategy, or if she had, she hadn’t gotten an opportunity to communicate that to Alessa.  As the date loomed closer, Alessa harbored doubts that the rebels would be able to pull together a reliable plan in time.  But in the end, she had no choice but to wait, trusting in their allies to deliver them to freedom.

In the interim, Alessa found herself with plenty of time to reflect on her situation, and she found that she was grudgingly impressed with the cleverness of the producers’ ploy.  They had so skillfully woven her character’s background with her true thoughts and feelings that, until Janie’s revelation, she had never once questioned her experience.  She’d been so utterly convinced that she had even readily dismissed the flashbacks of her true life that had come to her in dreams.  It was beyond frightening to consider what could happen if this type of memory-altering technology was used on a larger scale.

It still amazed Alessa how willingly her emotions had transferred from their true sources to the producers’ constructed ones.  Shifting her feelings of sorrow at losing her real family in the outbreak to her imaginary parents in their car accident wasn’t too dramatic of a jump, but transforming her distress at losing Isaac into distress at seeing his ghost – without triggering her memory – was certainly a more complex feat.

Now that Alessa could remember her real life, the wave of emotions that had overcome her whenever she saw the ghost felt all too familiar.  The fear, the hopelessness, the despair – these were Alessa’s constant companions during her time held captive in solitary confinement.

Listening to the cries of the other prisoners as they were interrogated had tormented Alessa, images of Isaac bloody and lifeless flashing before her eyes with the sound of each ragged wail.  In her hours of idle time, she’d worried endlessly about what would become of Isaac, wondering what terrors they were subjecting him to and how, if either of them managed to make it out alive, they could ever move forward without the other by their side.  It only made sense that these emotions would come back to her whenever she saw him, almost like a conditioned response.

And then, of course, there was the strange but powerful desire that had undercut even her most ravaging fear.  A deep sense of allure had always drawn Alessa to Isaac’s “ghost” despite the troubling feelings that his presence had evoked, and this aspect of her reaction had been the most confusing to her.  She’d been able to rationalize the anxiety and sorrow as natural responses or projections of the ghost’s, but the physical pull she felt towards him had always been somewhat of a mystery.

Until, of course, she recognized Isaac for who he really was.  Just as their romance had emerged slowly from the ashes of Joe’s demise, so had a smoldering passion that had only grown more intense as their relationship progressed.  And like a glowing ember, all Alessa had needed was a little touch of kindling to reignite that fire.

Alessa fumed at the way the producers had manipulated her emotions, using the attraction that burned between her and Isaac to drive her participation in their plot.  If she hadn’t felt that attraction to Isaac, she probably would have reacted to the ghost by moving to a different dorm, just as any normal person would have done, and the show would have been over right there.  But the producers had known that some deep part of Alessa would thirst for Isaac, and they’d used that knowledge to trap her in their game.

Even the general aura of depression that had settled on her in recent years had been convincingly worked into her character’s backdrop.  Before her memories resurfaced, Alessa had thought she’d been disappointed in her college experience and frustrated with her own inability to take control of her future.  In reality, these were feelings she’d developed while living in Paragon.

The collapse of life as she’d known it – and especially the loss of her family – had left Alessa questioning whether she even wanted to be alive at all.  But as everyone in Paragon had settled into a routine, she’d allowed herself to be swept up in the comfort and predictability of structure.  Those early years that she and Janie had shared together in Paragon had almost been happy.  Alessa had come to accept that it was a different life, but an okay one.

However, once she’d discovered the drugs and started working with the rebels, Alessa’s contentedness had evaporated into thin air.  With no one else to turn to, she’d trusted the society of Paragon to take care of its people.  That betrayal had left her disillusioned and distraught.  Then, after losing Joe, she’d valiantly fought alongside Isaac for justice, but inside, she’d privately grappled with the enormity of her task.

Someone
had masterminded this plan to convert a simple government quarantine zone into a highly controlled multi-class civilization, which most of the inhabitants didn’t even realize they were living in.  Alessa knew that she was outmatched, and with every setback that rattled the rebels, her confidence had eroded further.

Alessa
did
feel powerless and
did
feel alone, but not for the reasons she had thought.  It wasn’t because, as she’d reasoned when she believed herself a student, the death of her parents had unraveled her plans for the future.  It was because she
had
no future, and neither did anyone else she loved.  If Paragon had any say in it, she was destined to live out her days in the same drab jumpsuit, eating the same lackluster food, working the same monotonous jobs to support some privileged upper class who barely even knew she existed.

And the knowledge that Paragon was not the refuge that everyone around her assumed it to be left her isolated and demoralized.  She’d dutifully fallen in line each day with the medicated zombies around her, shuffling mechanically from work assignments to meals to nightly drama airings, and collapsing at the end of each long day into a stiff bed in her crowded bunk.  But inside she was crying out.

She’d yearned to race from one citizen to the next, shaking them from their stupor and rallying them to the cause.  But Alessa had known that that would only get her killed.  Instead, she’d kept her head down and resisted Paragon’s schemes in subtler ways, like the careful diet she and her friends kept to evade the drugs.

But sometimes it all felt futile.  After all, no amount of salad that she consumed was going to bring down whoever had put her here.  Some days it seemed like it would have been better to just give in to the temptation of the hot entrée, to allow her mind to become vacant once again and finally accept her fate.

But she had pressed on.

Now that Alessa knew what Paragon was truly capable of – the nightmarish prisons, the indifferent use of mind control, the elaborate deceptions just to keep the populace subdued – she was torn between rage and despair.  Something had to be done to right these wrongs, that much she was certain of.  But how?  Their enigmatic enemy had proven cunning and determined; taking down this opponent would be no small feat.  Was
Alessa
really the one to do it?

The truth was that the rebels were failing.  They had been for months, and when Alessa and Isaac had set out to scout for an escape, Regina had placed all of the alliance’s hopes on the shoulders of their mission.  Now it was months later, and as far as Alessa knew, no progress had been made.  If the plan to break them out failed this time, it could mean the end of the rebellion.  It could mean the end of liberty for everyone in Paragon, whether or not they knew.

These thoughts weighed heavily on Alessa as the semester’s final days of class rolled around, bringing with them a sense of impending finality.  Alessa privately relished her last days of comfort – she knew that once she went for Isaac, there would be no warm fluffy bed to return to, no closet filled with cozy sweaters, no cafeteria with tray after tray of satisfying food.  They would be on their own, and there would be no turning back.

Finally, the day before Professor Liu was scheduled to leave, Alessa received word from Janie that the plan had been set in motion.  As she stood near Janie’s shower stall brushing her teeth that evening, Janie whispered a hushed message through the plastic curtain, her voice concealed from the producers’ mikes under the cover of the spattering water.

“We’re executing tomorrow, so be ready.  You’ll find a map of your escape route in your pocket when you wake up on Isaac’s set.”

Alessa continued to shimmy her toothbrush, listening carefully for Janie’s words.  She felt unexpectedly calm.

“Be careful, Alessa.  I’ll see you on the other side.”