Fly Away(Dreyri Aldranaris) —Chapter One: A Hidden Boy—

The high-pitched wail ringing in my earpiece shreds into the comforting warm blankness of my sleep. I feel an intense longing inside me. A longing to not have to get up and go through with another day. Another day of aching sadness. But I have no choice.

I sit up in the small space that exists between the floor beneath me and the bed frame above me. And I take a moment to gather my seeping, fraying thoughts before I start my day.

All around me is the various toys and gadgets of my "brother" Arden, and a handful of my own, put on shelves. The carefully-selected white noise of a fountain along with a quiet symphonic melody is playing through the room as Arden sleeps in his large, plush bed. Comfortable. Oblivious. Perfect. Softly glowing crystal shards in dark colours float above him.

I silently pad to the control panel on one side of the wall, careful not to wake Arden. I turn on all the cleaning tech that begins running through the room, cleaning the floor and walls and shelves. I run in front of the shelf duster, picking up everything on the shelves to clear its path. It's exhausting but eventually I'm done.

I move my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. And in the silence screaming eerie around me I tell myself that the weekend is almost over. School is almost starting.

I then get the last part of the room ready for the day. I turn the crystals into light blues and soft greens. I turn the music into something more upbeat. I bring Arden's hoverboard to the foot of his bed. And then I move to softly wake him up.

"Arden. Arden," I gently sing-song as I shake him softly, "It's time to wake up." In a few minutes he starts to stir. And then he sits up.

And thus begins the hardest part of my day.

"Hi." Arden murmurs to me, heavy with sleep.

"Good morning, Arden. I hope you slept well." I keep my voice sweet and bright submissive.

"Not really. I'm still groggy."

"Oh sorry. That really sucks. I hope you sleep well soon." How he could've possibly slept badly on a plush, soft, temperature-regulating bed that's full of new blankets and pillows is beyond me but I don't comment. Just keep smiling.

"Ugh do I have to get up right now?"

"You don't have to. But your mother will not like it if you don't. I'll defend you though." Of course I had to balance staying on his parents' good sides and staying on his good side. Any one of them could get me killed if I'm unsatisfactory.

"Ugh I might as well not face her wrath." Arden rubs his eyes and gets on his hoverboard, that sinks under his weight for a second before floating up.

Like this Arden is a foot taller than me. But in reality I'm only a couple of inches shorter than him. But he likes feeling tall.

I walk beside him as he glides into the bathroom. He brushes his teeth while I brush his hair. He has warm red-tinted brown curls that shine softly in the bathroom lights. He had soft white skin and pink lips. He had a dimple chin and a straight nose and bright blue eyes. He's very beautiful.

In contrast to him I have dull black hair and green eyes. I don't look like anything special. But Ari thinks that I'm beautiful. Thinks that I'm beyond beautiful. And that helps me. It helps me a lot.

Arden finishes brushing and we go to the two parallel showers that are joined together and strip down together. He gets into the high-tech shower, bathing himself in warm water. I get in the simple shower and turn on the water in it, which is always cold. We talk as we stand under the water.

"I can't believe I have a project to finish on a weekend." Arden loves complaining. It seems to me that he has nothing to complain about but I can't tell him that.

"Oh you're very smart," I tell him, "you will probably finish it in no time." The water screams around us.

"But still. It's a weekend." Shit. I didn't say what he wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry. I wish you didn't have to go through school. You deserve to be able to just play and hang out."

"I know. You have such an easy life. You get to just play and hang out all day." I can't believe he thinks that's what I do.

"Well you're smart. You can make the world beautiful."

"It's a lot of responsibility though."

"Yes. But you're really responsible as well. I know you can handle it."

He turns on the soap and the soft brushes lather expensive, nice-smelling soap all over his body. I run my bar of hard soap over my body and use my hands to scrub.

"I can't believe my teacher did this though."

"I agree. It was very inconsiderate of her."

"She is honestly the worst teacher I've ever had." He's told me that so many times.

"I'm so sorry you have to deal with her. Maybe you'll get her back one day."

"Do you honestly think I could?"

"Arden. I know you can do anything." He smiles at this, brightly, blue eyes narrowing amidst strings of dark hair.

"Do you really believe that?"

"Of course I do. You can do anything you set your mind to."

"Thanks. I just have to believe it myself. It's hard when school is always telling me what to do."

"Nobody should ever tell you what to do. You should always do whatever you want."

"Mom and Dad don't know that though."

"Yeah, they really don't."

"So anyways, it's still a weekend. We still get to hang out with the gang."

"Yeah. That's great. I bet you guys will have a lot of fun."

"Oh yeah. I can't wait."

"I'm really glad you're excited. You deserve to be excited."

"I mean it's just a small thing to be excited about."

"I agree. It is small. But it's still nice. You deserve nice things. And you deserve big things to be excited about as well. And you will have those as well."

"Like a trip to space for example. That would be so fun."

"Oh yes, it would. Keep asking your parents they're bound to agree sooner or later."

"They're so stingy though. That say it'll cost too much. I just wanna see the stars how they really are. Is that too much to ask?"

"Of course it's not. You deserve to see the stars from space. They're just beautiful and magical up there. Maybe you'll see them when you're an adult."

"But I wanna see them now," he whines.

"I understand. Keep up the pressure. They're bound to cave in."

We start putting on shampoo. Arden gets his head massaged by the special brushes lathered with expensive shampoo. I rub the bar of soap into my hair and massage it.

"Oh I love this shampoo," Arden comments.

"That's awesome. Why?"

"It just makes my head feel so comfortable. Almost like it's buzzing. But in a good way."

"Oh that does sound really comfortable. That's great."

"No more talking for now. Let me just enjoy my shower."

"Okay."

I am left with my thoughts. And in the freezing cold I think of Ari.

After the shower we dry off. Arden with his new, colourful, fluffy towel and me with my old, worn, ratty towel. We then walk and glide into his walk-in closet.

He looks through his clothes before pulling out a shimmering maroon shirt with golden embroidery that reaches halfway down his thighs and a pair of new blue jeans.

"You look amazing," I tell him, "I love the colours you picked."

"They do go together so well, don't they? What will you wear?"

"Oh I'll be happy wearing whatever you pick for me."

He gets me a simple light green shirt and black pants. I put them on, glad to be covered.

"Oh these are so beautiful. Thank you, Arden."

We go to the breakfast table and Arden's parents are already sitting on the sleek metal and glass monolith, the floating chandeliers spinning and gliding and dipping around them. Their synthetics sit on either side of them, silent. Mr. Harrison is a tall man in a cream dress shirt with a blood red collar with metallic red embroidery. Mrs. Harrison has a dress made of sheer layers of purple and white and her hair is dyed purple to match. Her synth has the tips of her hair dyed the same colour of purple and Mr. Harrison's synth wears a cream dress shirt with a normal collar.

"Good morning, Arden," his mom says.

"Good morning Mom. Good morning, Dad."

"Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Harrison."

We take our spots around the table. I do not have to talk here. Arden and his family will do all of the talking. All I have to do is try to not feel left out. Which is impossible.

Arden piles his plate high with salsa and green beans and flakey garlic bread. He pours a glass of mango juice. I just take the bread and a glass of water.

"So I hear that the communists set an huge banking office on fire," Mr. Harrison remarks. I look at Mrs. Harrison's synthetic. Her name is Ella. She looks at me. There is a spark in her eyes.

"Oh how horrid," Mrs. Harrison replies, fiddling with the dial of her personal temperature system that is floating by her chair. All the owners have one beside them.

"Those communists think that the country is theirs." Arden's voice is irritated. "They think they can take on our police and military. But they can't."

I say nothing. Because it's not my place. Because it's never been my place. And because I can't let them know what I'm really thinking.

"I've heard that sixty-five to eighty percent of the communists are synthetics," Mrs. Harrison states. I look at Ella and Sam, the other synthetics. They look at me back. Hope sparks in my heart. How can all these synthetics escape their owners and go on to join the rebellion? I hope I can one day go and join. That would be magical.

Sam smiles at me mischievously and no-one else but Ella and I notice. I think he's going to join the communists. I think he's going to escape. That would be amazing.

"So, Ella," Mr. Harrison continues, "what do you think of these rebellious synths?" It's strange to be addressed in the mornings. Mornings are supposed to be family time.

"I think they're really foolish and arrogant," Ella says smoothly, just as she is meant to, "our owners are like family. Like more than family. You keep us safe and provide for us. Of course any reasonable synth would be loyal and happy with their owners." She smiles. And you would have to look very deeply to see the plasticity and the darkness of the smile. But she smiles.

We continue eating. And the family continues talking about politics. Us synths continue to sneak glances at each other. They give me strength. Give me hope. We are like our own family, the three of us. It's just that we have to spend most of the time with our owners.

After breakfast Arden sets out to meet his friends so they can go to an immersive theatre. I go with him, walking along as he floats down the sidewalk. The houses on either side of us are large, with many large windows and softly glowing metal walls. They are designed in various beautiful styles and patterns. And they all have lush and blooming well-manicured gardens.

"Today it's Sally's turn to pick an immie," Arden tells me.

"So how do you feel about that?" I ask him. I have to know what his sentiments are in order for me to be able to echo them.

"I think it's fine. She's got good taste."

"She does have good taste."

"But I can't wait until it's my turn."

"I can't either. You've got the best taste of all."

"I do, don't I? But still, I have to be a good friend and let my other friends pick."

"That's very responsible of you." I say nothing of the fact that the synths never have a turn to pick. He doesn't want to hear about that. And he doesn't care.

"It is, isn't it?"

"You're a very good friend."

"I try to be."

"That's very good of you. Trying is what matters. And all your trying is coming to fruition."

"Well I think that if someone tries, they're bound to eventually succeed. It's all about caring enough to apply yourself." That's not the way he feels about school.

"You're absolutely right. That's very insightful and inspiring."

"It's just my thoughts."

"You're a very good thinker. You should become a philosopher some day."

Above us a giant iridescent mechanical dragon flies by, letting out a powerful, melodic roar.

"Wow," Arden exclaims, "that was super cool."

"It really was super cool." I echo.

"I wonder where that thing is going?"

"I wonder too. I wonder where it came from."

"Oh yeah. I bet the kid who owns it is so lucky."

"Do you want one of those?"

"If I can get mom and dad to pay for it. I would love a flyer."

"What type of flyer would you want? A dragon?"

"No. Maybe a giant squid. That would be cool."

"That would be really cool. I would love to see that."

"Flyers are the best."

"They really are. I'm glad they were invented."

"I've never met anyone who didn't want one."

"They are really popular."

We arrive at the row of richly carved park benches embedded with semi-precious gems. It's where we are supposed to meet Arden's friends. There is Sally, with her synth Haynes. There is Nora with her synth Aleni. And there is Marco with his synth Hari. I say hello to all of them and then the four free people start talking.

They talk mostly about the immie that they're going to see. What they expect that it's going to be like. The other synths and I say encouraging things every once in a while. We have to keep our owners happy. We make sure that the conversation is going through a happy course.

A man floats by us.

"Fucking synths!" He swears, spitting in my direction.

"What the hell was that about?" Arden wonders, looking at me.

"I don't know. He just seemed like a crazy guy." I do know. I know that this behaviour was just a more extreme form of the superiority that all non-synths feel towards us synths. But I don't tell him this.

"Well he should stay away from other peoples' property," Arden continues angrily, "come here, let me see if you're alright."

I let Arden look me over and when he's satisfied I once again back off, letting him be with his friends.

We make our way inside the huge theatre. There we are greeted by a synth who shows us to our cubicle. The large room is empty at first, save for the six of us. But it will be full of lively holograms soon. The owners get plush, floating chairs to sit on and drift around in. Us synths stand.

I end up next to Haynen. The owners are having a loud conversation and they are not even noticing us. This is a chance.

"How are you?" Haynen whispers to me.

"Terrible. Like always. But what else can you expect?"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. How are you doing, Haynen?"

"It's hard. Too hard. I don't know how I'll get by." We keep our eyes on the owners, who still don't notice us.

"I'm sorry. But I heard that the communists are eighty percent synths."

"Wow. How did they get away?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe we can get away."

"I hope we can."

"Me too."

We quiet down as the owners quiet down. Mist fills the room. And the immersive starts.

It's a sweet story, about a girl who was always bullied at school but she finds a book of magical spells and uses it to get back at her bullies. I don't know why but it makes me cry. Thankfully no-one sees me crying. Though if they did I could easily blame it on the immie.

After the immie they go to a restaurant. There are holographic mini-immies drifting around the tables and colour changing mechanical flowers bloom and close on our table cloth. There is a crystal cavern in the middle of the table with fake plants growing around it and there are balls of lightning floating over our heads in ever shifting geometric patterns.

I gulp down my loneliness as the owners talk around us. I'm always so lonely it's unbearable. And yet I always have Arden to keep me company. Or maybe I always have to keep Arden company. He always has me to keep him company. Strangely enough I'm less lonely when Arden isn't around. When I'm truly alone.

I force myself to gulp down my bland mashed potatoes. There is something so intimate about eating with someone. Something so deeply alienating about it.

Bidding goodbye to Arden's friends, Arden and I go back towards our home.

"That was awesome, wasn't it?" Arden asks me brightly.

"Yeah, it was." I feel sick with stress. I always feel sick with stress when I'm talking to Arden. But I bear it.

"A great way to spend a Sunday."

"Yeah, it really is. And I'm glad you got to see your friends."

"I'm glad too."

"What was your favourite part of the immie?" I have to keep the conversation on him at all times. People love speaking about themselves.

"Probably when she imprisoned that girl in a tree."

"Oh I love that part," I lie, "it was so powerful." In reality it creeped me out.

"Wasn't it? She was so badass."

"She really was. She had no fear." Though, she really didn't have anything to fear. Not in the way that I do.

"Yeah. And she was so powerful. She made everyone fear her. I wish I had that kind of power."

"Imagine making everyone fear you. What would you do with that power?"

"I would make sure everyone gave me the respect I deserve."

"You definitely deserve that. Who doesn't respect you?"

"Oh, Robert. That guy is such a fucking bully."

"Well damn him. I'm sure he'll get what's coming to him eventually."

"Oh, he will. I just have to work out the courage to take him on."

"You're very brave. But it's equally good to keep yourself safe and not put yourself in danger if it's not worth it."

"Oh, it is worth it alright. I just have to convince the other kids to join me."

"They'd be fools not to."

"Oh but some of them are fools. And some of them are cowards."

"That sounds very difficult. But keep trying. I hope you are able to gather enough supporters."

"I hope so too. It's time that Robert knows what fear is for a change."

"It is. Go get your revenge."

"He thinks he's getting revenge on us for making fun of the fact that he has a synth mother. Ever since we found that out he's been nothing but rude and disrespectful to everyone that ever tries to engage with him. Having him as a partner or in a group is absolutely terrible. We have to get back at him."

I think that if someone was bullied for something as personal as where they came from, they deserve to be rude to their tormentors. But I don't say that.

"Wow he sounds like a really bitter and overly sensitive person."

"He is. Everyone hates him. They just don't want to do anything about it."

"Well you're planning to do something about it. That's very brave of you."

"It is."

"So who was your favourite character in that immie?"

"The book seller who gave her that book. She was very mysterious."

"She was, wasn't she? I love her aura."

We keep talking until we arrive at home and I help Arden out of his clothes and into new ones. He chooses a light blue button-up shirt with red and orange flowers growing up from the hem.

I don't have Haynen or Hari or Aleni around me. Sam and Ella are gone with their owners. I'm alone with Arden. I'm the most alone I can be.

"So what do you want to do now?" I ask him.

"Hmm. I don't know. Let me think."

"Alright," I smile at him. He goes to his room and I follow him in. He sits on the plush bed while I sit on the floor and think my thoughts.

I wonder if the communists will win. I know that they won't. I know that they can't. Not against the might of Imranion's armies. It's a David versus Goliath situation. It even harder than that.

But still. There is hope.

"I know what we should do!"

"What?"

"Let's play Truth on Armantia!"

I hate that video game. It's so creepy and it doesn't make much sense. But of course I have to go along with it. So I follow Arden into one of the two gaming rooms. I fetch him all the necessary mechanical parts and we stand there as holograms spin to life around us.

The first part of the game is an exposition part where we are introduced to the haunted manor and its strange inhabitants. Arden skips over that part and goes directly to the gameplay.

The mechanical and holographic spiders come to life around us. They crawl all over, with their glowing red eyes and darker than night bodies and their many, many, many long, spindly legs. It gives me the heebie jeebies but I deal with it.

I know Arden likes killing the mechanical spiders. It's objectively more fun. So I hold off the hologram spiders and prevent them from biting him while he tries to shoot the mechanical ones in their weak spots.

Eventually the spiders are all decimated. The eerie mist around us lifts from the dark castle walls. And the final boss spider emerges from the roof.

It's a mechanical spider but it shoots holograms and all kinds of things. It's three or four times taller than us. Arden doesn't like having to dodge all the projectiles and webs so I have to block a lot of them for him. It's exhausting having to cover him as he runs around aiming at the spider.

But finally it's over. He shoots the golden victory shot and the boss is dead. We stand there panting for a bit.

"Great job, Arden," I tell him.

"Thanks," he replies.

In the next level is a giant worm that shoots out this green glowing liquid. It is meant to be a corrosive poison that catches on us and makes us die slowly and painfully. Arden doesn't want to get hit by it so I absorb all the hits instead. Arden laughs about how ridiculous I look covered in holographic green slime. It stings a little bit but I laugh as well.

I have to.

Arden defeats the worm in a matter of an hour and then we are left in the manor. We fake walk, the simulation moving around us, to a large room filled with various objects all piled about. We have to look through them to find the photographs of all the people who died here.

Arden thinks he's a really good finder but he's really not. I dig through all the piles of stuff and when I find a photograph I put it somewhere that's easier to find so that he can spot it. I let him collect the majority of the photos.

And then the ghosts attack.

I know he likes rescuing me and I know he hasn't gotten a chance to do that yet. So I let him fight me out of the clutches of a ghost.

I have to time and measure everything perfectly so that Arden gets the best game playing experience. It's exhausting. And all the while I have to constantly thank him and compliment him to keep his spirits bright.

But finally Arden gets tired of the game. And we go back to his room where he sits on his bed and I sit beside him on the floor. He casually throws a ball to me, and it's a path finding ball so it goes to the other person no matter where you throw it. And I throw the ball back. We keep casually doing this as he looks around the room.

"It's getting pretty late," he tells me.

"You're right, it is. Good observation."

"Tomorrow is school. It will be so boring."

"I know. It sucks. I'll be thinking about you the whole time though, until I can get to see you again."

"Thanks. Knowing that makes me feel better."

"Aww thanks so much. Knowing that you feel better makes me so happy."

"I should probably get to working on my project."

"You're right. That's a very smart move." I can't pressure him but I also have to show my support for his decision.

As he sits in his large, sleek desk and gets his assignment into the screen, I move to the rest of the sprawling house and help the cleaning robots keep everything pristine and immaculate. I spend hours running in front of the cleaning bots frantically moving everything out of the way and then putting it back. It's frantic and dizzying and exhausting. The house is just so big.

Ella is with me too, doing the same task. And I'm really glad for her company. It feels so very intimate to both be doing the same work.

We finish a few minutes early and then come together in one corner in between two shelves. We come together like two pieces of a puzzle. Ella sits on the floor and I sit on her lap. She hugs her arms around my middle and I lean against her chest and put my arms over her's.

"I missed you, my baby," Ella tells me softly, close to my ear.

"I missed you too," I whispher back, "I love you."

"Sam told me he wants to escape this house and go join the communists," Ella says. I let that information sit in the bottom of my chest, bitter and sweet and exciting and terrifying.

"I hope he can do it." We keep alert for the owners.

"He won't do it if you don't want him to. You know he sees you as a son. We both do."

"I ..." I take time to think. If Sam can break free then that will make me so happy. It will feel like a victory, not just for him but for all of us. But I will miss him too.

"Will he leave soon?" I ask.

"No. He won't leave until we are alright with it. And he hasn't made any plans yet. He's just testing the idea out."

"Then ... could he wait a few more years? I can't lose him just yet. But I want him to go. I want him to be free."

"I'll let him know that." Her body is soft and warm against mine. I almost want to cry.

"So how was your day?"

"Terrible. But there was a dragon flyer going by this morning."

"I saw that too."

"When I was younger my mother - not my biological mother of course, but the synth of my owner's mother - told me a story about a couple who hijacked a flyer and climbed within it to fly to safety."

"Wow. That would be awesome." I think about my own lover. If I can call Ari a lover. I imagine myself and him and a flyer and freedom. "Is it real?" I ask Ella.

"I don't think so. But it might be. They could have secretly learned to code. And some flyers are big enough to hold people."

"I wish it was real."

"I wish so too."

"Have you ever been in love?"

"I have. But I lost her. They found out."

I gulp. I can't have the owners ever finding out about Ari and I. I would die without him.

"I'm so sorry. Maybe you'll see her again." That was the wrong thing to say.

"We'll see each other in the Green Place."

"Only communists believe in the Green Place. Are you a communist?"

"Of course I am. Aren't you?"

I think about that for a moment.

"Yes," I answer. And it's a declaration into the sharp corners and searing brightness of the world.

"I'm done!" Arden's voice cuts into the quietness. I can barely hear him all the way across the house but I can hear him. I sigh and get up. I trudge my way to his room like a man walking towards the gallows.

"What should we do now?" I ask him, standing by his bed.

"Let's talk a little before going to bed."

"That's a good idea."

We pass the ball around again as we talk.

"I have a crush on this girl. Her name is Clementine. She's in my math class.

"That's lovely. What's she like?"

"She has very beautiful dark eyes. And she has amazing tits. They're so big." Seriously? He's commenting on her tits? That's so disrespectful.

"She sounds very beautiful."

"Oh she is. You should see her. I'll show you a picture." He gets out a holographic picture of a girl with dark curling hair and wide cheekbones.

"Wow. She's amazing. I do not have the words to describe her."

"I know. I'll have to tell her."

"When are you going to tell her? How?"

"I was thinking you could make a poem and I could write it down and say it's from me." I can't believe him.

"Of course. When do you need the poem?"

"I don't need it just yet. I'm still too nervous to talk to her. I'll tell you when I stop being nervous."

"It's alright to be nervous. It's understandable. It's a matter of the heart after all."

"It's so beautiful, being in love."

"I would imagine that it would be."

"Have you ever be in love?" He asks me.

"No," I lie. I have to keep the lie. Have to keep the secret.

"Of course not. I don't think synths can even feel love. Can you?"

"I love you," I lie again. "I love you more than I love the sunshine. More than I love the starlight. More than I love life itself and more than I fear death." I wrote this poem for Ari and it feels so wrong on my tongue saying it to Arden.

"Ooh I'm going to type that down. It's going into the poem for Clementine."

"I hope she appreciates it and appreciates you for sending it to her."

"I hope so too. But anyways. I know you love me. But you love me as a brother."

"Of course I love you as a brother. What is there not to love about you?"

"I know. But I'm talking about romantic love. Do you feel that?"

"I don't know yet. I never have felt it before."

"I think synths are not capable of it. Anyways, you have no idea how my heart is buzzing right now."

"That sounds like a really amazing feeling. I'm glad you're feeling it. Tell me more."

We keep talking until he decides to go to sleep. He switches the music in his room and I turn the light crystals low. And then I get under the bed and think.

My thoughts would swallow me whole and leave me drowning if I didn't have my people to think about. There is still unimaginable sorrow. Of course. There is still the unbearable sorrow that clouds over most of my existence. But still. There is the way Ella held me. The way Sam is going to maybe escape. The way Haynen whispered to me. The way Ari and I hide. The way everyone loves my poems. The way hope is hard to kill. The communists trying to overthrow the government with an army of eighty percent synths.

My dreams are terrifying. In them I am a small child again. Alone. Afraid. With nowhere to turn to and no-one to find comfort in.

First I dream of the years and years I spent at the Harrisons' house, looking after Arden, with Arden and Mr. and Mrs. Harrison looming above me. Memory and imagination swirl and blur together in a terrible delirium. I ask Mr. Harrison for some ice cream and he throws me out the window. I fall through abject blackness.

I land in the white walls of the training facility I was in until I was four. The robots and the loneliness and the fear and the pain all come rushing back to me. And suddenly I am tied down in front of a screen again, too afraid to scream or cry, watching a video on how to be the perfect companion.

I wake up in a cold sweat. It's not morning yet. I hum tune that Ari sang to me and I'm able to lull myself back to sleep. And thankfully, thankfully my sleep is filled with blank darkness. But still the uneasiness weaves its way into the blankness.

In the morning I get up even though I'm tired like I always am. I clean and I get Arden up. He has to get to school. And his parents are counting on me to take him there on time.

He complains. Of course he complains. And as always I listen to his complaining and I sympathize with him. And I tell him it will all be okay. He will be okay. And as always, he soaks in my praise and doesn't give me praise back.

We walk to school, me carrying his bags and him on his glider. Him talking my ear off. The school isn't very far off. He talks about Clementine on the way over. I navigate the conversation, which, as always, is a minefield.

I bid him a hearty goodbye and act like I'm sad to see him go. Then I walk home.

I rush into the kitchen and turn on the cooking robots. I have to make and deliver Arden a hand-cooked meal for his lunch. Apparently hand-cooked meals taste a lot better than bot-cooked ones. They have more heart. Apparently. But I have no time to cook him an intricate meal. I have to get to school. And quickly. He won't really know the difference between a hand-cooked meal and a bot-cooked one. He never does.

I put the meal in a temperature-regulating box and rush to the school building. My my head is buzzing with thoughts of Ari.

I think I will be sick in the best possible way. I would be seeing him again! After the long, lonely, grating weekend!

I get in easily through the sliding doors of the school. And the hallways are all empty as I walk down them and to Ari's and my meeting spot.

My heart soars at the sight of him. Piercing blue eyes that are like the sky's horizon. A soft and shy smile shining on his angular face. Arms awkwardly crossed against his chest. Head scanning the hallways as he leans against the walls. I almost run to him.

"Ari. I missed you."

"I missed you too, Luca, I missed you so much."

"Let's get in the walls."

The walls shimmer with colours. There are girls and boys walking on the screens giving students reminders about school events. The walls can do even more stuff if they are told to. It's a vast array of mechanics that makes all of it work. And those mechanics need to be maintained. And so there is a crawlspace within the walls that is exactly perfect for us to go into.

Ari swipes the key card he stole from his owner's father and then we are inside. All around us are gray machine pieces arranged intricately together and there is a narrow space we can just barely walk through. We can see out the walls and into the hallways and rooms of the school, in the places where there are gaps in the machinery. We can hear what the speakers inside the classrooms are saying. We can learn here.

We walk to the the first class. Or at least the crawl space beside it. Seventh grade English. We situate ourselves so that we can see the screen, even if it's just barely. And we sit and watch the lesson go by. We do this for the next lesson. And the next one. We talk for the minutes in between lessons. There is not enough time for us to talk. But we both want education. We both need education.

We're not supposed to be having an education.

It's interesting. Deeply interesting. So many ideas and theories and facts and numbers. I don't know why Arden hates it so much. I know that Ari loves it too. Though maybe that's because it's forbidden fruit. Whatever kind of fruit education is, it's a sweet and delicious fruit.

We get out of the walls just before lunch time and we go to meet our owners. I'm happy and sweet and meek and submissive in front of Arden and he never even notices anything amiss. He never does. Maybe part of the reason is that he never really looks at me. After he's done talking to me he goes to talk to his friends.

I rush outside the school and climb a pipe onto the roof. There Ari is already waiting for me.

The wind is blowing in his curly black hair. He's so unbelievably handsome. I run to him, and he catches me in his arms. He spins me around. I tuck a lock of curly hair behind his ears. We gaze at each other for a beautiful, breathtaking moment. And I almost forget about how much everything hurts.

Our lips mesh together for a kiss, my arms hugging him tight and his hands softly stroking my hair. And it's like a warm fire has been lit inside of me. Like my whole being is glowing. We kiss again. And again. And again. Until my lips almost hurt. We finally break our embrace and we sit on the roof.

"My father's going to try to get freedom." I tell him.

"Oh," he sounds surprised, "how do you feel about that?"

"Good. He won't leave for a few more years. I'll still have him in my life until I'm older. And I want him to be free."

"That's perfect. Do you think he'll be able to make it?"

"I don't know." I let the worry show in my voice.

"There was this one synth, they were my owner's neighbour's synth. One day I stopped seeing them entirely. I think they might've escaped."

"I hope they escaped. I hope they joined the communists." Neither of us brings up the possibility that they died. But it hangs there in front of us. "Do you miss them?"

"Oh I definitely do. Even though we didn't get many chances to talk, we were close."

"Of course you were. It feels like, it feels like all the synths are a family. And it hurts losing your family."

"But I'm happy for them though. Happy that they're free."

"I'll be happy when my dad becomes free too. It will feel like a victory."

"It does feel like a victory when one of us escapes. It feels like a victory for all of us."

"You're so right. Because if any of us defied all the odds and defied the owners, it proves to the rest of us that we deserve freedom and we have hope."

"You're so poetic. I love your way with words."

"Thanks so much. I love your way with melodies. You sing really well."

"Thanks. You're so sweet."

Thank you. You're so sweet too."

Talking to Ari feels so different than talking to Arden. Ari talks to me as if I'm a person, as if I'm an equal, not just some toy to play with. He makes me feel seen. Makes me feel heard. Makes me feel human.

"Ari, do you think we'll ever be parted?"

"If I don't see you in this world I'll see you in the Green Place." He seems so sure.

"It's funny how so many synths believe in the Green Place," I remark, "the communist propaganda must have made it's way to us all."

"Well with all the talking the owners do about who the communists are and what they think and do, is it such a surprise?"

"It's funny, the owners are telling us all about them and giving us hope. They're doing the communists' jobs for us. And they don't even realize it."

"Owners have always been stupid. They've always underestimated us. It'll be their downfall." Rage is laced through his words. He carries so much rage within him.

"I love your rage."

"And I love the way you keep secrets. You keep your heart hidden from the owners but always so clear to yourself."

"You do that too."

"I'm not as good at it as you are. Your owner is absolutely fooled."

"He has to be. I have to keep secrets. I have to keep you a secret."

"You're such an incredibly sweet secret."

"So are you."

"So many secrets are sweet."

"Because they don't want us to have sweet things. So we have to hide them."

"We won't have to hide forever though."

"Yeah, their reckoning will come."

"You'd make a great fighter."

"So would you."

The bell rings and we wait fifteen minutes before climbing down and going back to class. And we go to all the classes. And we learn everything the owner's children learn. And we store that knowledge deep inside ourselves.

After school I go to meet Arden so we can walk home. Already I miss Ari. But I say nothing of it.

"Hi, Arden. It's so great to see you. I missed you so much. How was your day?"

"It was good. I got a chance to talk to Clementine."

"That's amazing! What did you say?"

"I just asked her about an upcoming assignment."

He drones on, completely oblivious. And I keep all my secrets hidden deep inside myself.


—Chapter Two: A Harrowing Summer—

It's the last day of school before the summer months start. It's a bitter day. A melancholy day. And yet the sun shines brightly and the grass is green as if nothing is wrong. And I have to pretend that nothing is wrong.

"Finally! Summer has arrived!" Arden exclaims in the shower. And I smile brightly, and hope it reaches my eyes.

"Yes!" I reply, "this is so great! Isn't it?"

"Oh absolutely! No more school for two months!"

"For two whole months. That's a nice long time."

"And I get to do whatever I want."

"That will be great! You deserve that freedom. You deserve a good break."

"I do. After that hell of a year."

"You have been through a lot this year. But you did it. You made it through."

"Be quiet now."

"Sure thing."

The shampoo brushes continue lathering him up and I have to turn away for a little bit to blink the tears out of my eyes.

After I send him off to school, all happiness and smiles, I rush to school myself. I rush to Ari.

We spend the whole day on the roof, kissing and talking. The last day is not a day of learning. It's just a day of fun. We don't need to be looking through the walls. We can bid each other goodbye. After all we won't be seeing each other for a whole two months. And I will miss him bitterly. And he will miss me.

His eyes are the same blue of the bright horizon. The wind blows through his dark curls. The sun makes his skin shine. He's unbelievably beautiful, sitting with his knees up and his back against the walls of the school roof. He's so beautiful I feel like my heart is breaking.

Because there isn't enough time. There's never enough time.

"Luca. I hate how I have to hide everything. I hate how I have to pretend to be alright. Even today."

"Well you know what you really are. And you don't have to pretend in front of me."

"You're so sweet."

"Thanks. So are you. But I hate having to pretend to be happy too. And I'll have to pretend all summer."

"It's going to be such a long summer without you. I'm so sorry. For both of us."

"I'm sorry too. And I'm angry. Why do we have to sneak around just to be together?"

"It's not fair. And we have to do something about it."

"Like what?"

"Have you ever thought about joining the resistance?"

I say nothing. I just look at him with wide, curious, wary, excited eyes.

"I've thought about it," I finally say, "but I think we're too young to take on that danger."

"You're probably right. But what about when we're older? Like in high school? Do you want to run away then?"

"It will be dangerous."

"Of course it will be dangerous. Do you want to go or not?"

I think about it for a while. In that time I move closer to Ari, so that I'm leaning against his side. He wraps an arm around me. And I lean my head against his shoulder.

"I want to go," I finally reply. "I want to at least try to get revenge against the owners for all they've done to us."

"I think so too. I want to get revenge. I hate being sweet and passive and submissive all the time."

"But what about my mother? She'll be all alone."

"Bring her along."

"Good plan."

"Thanks."

I lean towards him even more. And he does the same.

"Can I kiss you?" I ask.

"Yes."

We share a sweet, saccharine, intoxicating kiss. And another one. And another one. These will be our last kisses for a while. We have to make the most of them.

"I'll miss you so fucking much," Ari tells me.

"I'll miss you too. And I'll miss school."

"I'll miss school too. I love learning. It feels like the ultimate rebellion."

"It does. And it's nice to be able to use my mind. They think I'm just dumb and thoughtless. I hate it."

"I hate them. I wish I could tell them that all they think about you is wrong."

"Oh I wish I could do that too."

"I'll miss the time away from my owner."

"Of fuck. I will too. I have to be beside him for two months straight."

"I swear I'll eventually snap."

"Please don't. I need to see you again next school year."

"Okay then. I'll keep myself in check. For you. Because I need to see you again too."

"I feel so free with you."

"I feel so free with you too."

After kisses and words and tears it's finally time for us to say good bye. My heart feels like it's breaking into a million pieces. But I go on. Because I have to.

I meet Arden outside the school. He hands me the bags and bags of his stuff that he has to take home today.

"How was your day, Arden?"

"Oh it was amazing. We played games all day."

"That's amazing. I'm glad. What games did you play?"

"We went out into one of the fields and we played quidditch."

"That sounds great. Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh absolutely."

"That's awesome. What position were you?"

"I was a chaser. It's not the best position but it's fun."

"At least your has fun. What position did you want to be?"

"A seeker."

"Ooh you'd be really good at that."

"I would, wouldn't I?"

We keep talking until we get home. Arden rests in one of the many plush sofas and I sit on the ground and massage his feet. He puts on a mini immie and lazily watches it, picking idly from the set storylines as he goes so that the story plays out exactly as he wants it to.

I hide my exhaustion.

———

The next day is the day of the party. Arden's parents throw a little party every year to celebrate him finishing another school year. It's a quiet affair, with only Arden's grandparents and aunt. But Arden loves this day. He says that it's better than his birthday. But I always find it hard to get through. Because pretending ecstasy on the first day of summer is always hard.

At least I don't have to talk much.

"You did a great job this year," Arden's aunt tells him.

"Aww thank you auntie," he says. I say nothing but I smile from my place on the floor where I'm sitting, sweetly looking up at the owners sitting on plush floating chairs as glitter and fake snow flies down from the ceiling.

"I remember grade eight," Arden's mom starts, "it was the worst grade for me. But I learned a lot."

"Oh why was it the worst, Mama?" Arden asks.

"It's just a really awkward, difficult time, being thirteen," she replies, "I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

"Oh you're right, Mama."

"You are right, Amelia," Arden's aunt says, "the teen years are a special type of torture."

"It's torture all my children can get through though," Arden's grandfather adds, "and it's torture little Arden can get through as well." He ruffles Arden's hair.

"Oh thank you grandpa! You're too kind."

"Aww I'm just telling the truth my little one."

"Well I really appreciate it anyways."

"He is right though," Arden's dad speaks. "We all got through it. Because we're all strong. Resilience runs in our family."

I nod my head, even though I know that I'm not part of this family. The music flows on through us. The snack trays filled with lavish snacks arranged artfully float amongst us. The owners pick finger foods to eat. I don't.

"Resilience runs in our family," Arden's grandmother echoes, "but also we have each other's backs. We take care of each other. That's why we are so strong."

"You're absolutely right," Arden's aunt declares, "our family bonds are better than any other family. They're unbreakable."

"I feel so lucky to be part of this family," Arden's mother speaks. "You are all such sweet and good people."

"You're sweet and good too," Arden's father tells her.

"Aww thanks."

"We're very successful," Arden's grandfather starts, "because of our loyalty to each other. Loyalty I've gotten to teach all of you."

"You're right dad," Arden's aunt says, "thanks for teaching us."

"And thank you for welcoming me into the family," Arden's dad says.

"Luca. Get Arden's report card," Arden's mother shoos me away with her hands.

"Yes, ma'am."

I walk down the long halls. On my way down I see Sam. My father. We exchange sad smiles with each other. Even if we're smiling, we can see the brokenness in each other's eyes. At least one good thing about the summer is that I can spend more time with my parents. Before we all go our separate ways.

"You're stronger than you know," Sam whispers to me. "You'll get through this summer."

"Thank you dad. And good luck to you as well. You're stronger than you know too."

"We both are. We all are."

I run down the hall to make up for lost time and I pick up Arden's report card from where it is on Mr. Harrison's large desk. I run back.

"Here you go, ma'am." I hand Mrs. Harrison the sheet of clear glass. She turns it on and it displays the grades on a creamy background.

"Four B's, a C, and two A's," Arden's aunt exclaims. "That's amazing."

"Thank you, Auntie."

"My boy's very smart," Mr. Harrison states smugly, "he gets that from all of us. A chip off the old block, he is."

Arden smiles brightly and I smile meekly.

"He did inherit his brains from us," Mrs. Harrison echoes, "what's more, he inherited our fastidious work ethic."

"And we taught him too," Arden's aunt adds in. "We all taught him how to succeed in school and in life."

"You better be grateful that you're in this family, Arden," his grandfather tells him.

"Oh I definitely am, Grandpa."

"We're all very smart," his grandmother says.

I think about Ari. Ari always tells me that I'm very smart. He says that it's amazing that I can keep up with the classes despite getting no study time. I tell him it's amazing that he can as well. Although he struggles more so than me. Ari tells me that I have an amazing way with words. That I could be an amazing writer if I was allowed to write.

I usually don't feel smart. I usually don't feel like much of anything. But Ari makes me feel smart. He makes me feel like I can do anything.

Maybe that's dangerous. But maybe it's giving me life. Everything about Ari is dangerous. Everything about Ari gives me life.

My parents tell me I'm smart as well. They say that they're incredibly proud that I've found a way to go to school. They say that I'm an expert wordsmith and an even better liar. They say that I will do amazing things, that all the synths will do amazing things. Even if they're secret things.

My parents are not dangerous. But my parents give me life anyways. It's a secret sort of life. And even though they didn't literally bring me into the world, like Arden's parents did to him, they made the world just a little bit more livable for me.

My friends give me life in all the little moments that they can. They give me brightness. Give me soothing. Give me confidence. And all our stolen moments mean infinity to me. I turn them over and over in my head before I go to sleep.

I'm thankful for my family. I'm thankful for my friends. For my lover. For each and every synth I have ever come across.

The owners keep on talking. Oblivious to me. I keep my face schooled into sweetness. And I follow their conversation in case they ever want to include me in it. But in the secret, silent part of my mind I rebel.

I could never have rebelled without my loved ones supporting me. I'd be too scared and weak. But they do support me and so I'm strong.

———

Arden and I are going to a multimedia game. That's a game where the holograms and mechanical parts all come together on a moving playground filled with things to climb and swing from and jump from and throw and get thrown at. Arden loves them. I hate them.

We are on a flying carriage. That's a richly decorated box that is all plush inside and has an open top that we can see out of. We watch the scenery go by from our view in the sky.

"I want to play a game with magic. Magic is the coolest. Then you get all the special effects."

"Magic is the coolest, Arden. You're absolutely right."

"I wonder what games they'll have there." Why didn't he check already on the arcade's flash site?

"Yeah, I wonder too. I hope they're fun games."

"Oh they will be."

"I guess it will be a surprise." I hold my breath. Was that the right thing to say? Sometimes you don't always know what the right thing to say is. Those times are the worst.

"I guess it will. Surprises are good." Oh thank the universe. That was the right thing to say.

"Surprises are good. Especially if they're fun surprises. Is that why you didn't check what games were available beforehand?"

"No, I just forgot." Oh. Shit. I didn't mean to make him sound incompetent. I have to cover myself. Right now.

"Well that's okay. Even the smartest of people forget sometimes. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that. And after all, it turned out well. We'll get a nice surprise."

"It did turn out well. I love it when the universe makes it so that things go well even when you mess up."

"The universe loves you, Arden. What is there not to love?" I don't know whether I should've said he didn't mess up. On one hand that would be praising him. On the other hand it would be contradicting him. I hope I made the right choice.

"It doesn't always feel like it." This conversation is going badly. I need for it to go well.

"Oh well I guess you do have adversity to overcome. But you always overcome it."

"I guess I always do."

"Yeah. You can overcome anything. You can take on any barrier and come out the other side."

"Yeah. I can." He smiles. I smile back. I honestly am relieved. Sweet praise always goes a long way. It's what I learned in training and during the long years of being Arden's.

We arrive at the arcade, the wide, flowing building with a waving, woven roof. Arden rushes out in front of me and I hurry behind him. We look at the game trailers displayed all over the walls of the lobby.

"What game do you want to pick?" I ask him.

"I don't know," He tells me.

"Well tell me when you're ready."

He ends up picking a game called The Enchanted Tangerine. I tell him that sounds like a great choice. We go to an arcade room, filled with equipment spinning and rising and ducking and weaving.

The holograms rise up to cover the arcade room and the game starts.

We start in a beautiful magical village, and have to fly on our flying carpet, which is an actual flying carpet, to pick apples. We climb the fake trees that blow in the fake wind to pick the gems that are the "apples." I let Arden pick most of them. I help him climb up higher by letting him climb upon me.

We then learn of the enchanted tangerine that can grant any wish and is work a million dollars. And we quest to go get it.

It's difficult, navigating through a game I haven't gone through before. I don't know how Arden will react to the various different parts of the game. I don't know how exactly to make the game the most enjoyable for him.

I try to see when he's struggling and make it easier for him. I try to see when he's bored and make it more difficult for him. But I do not always know what he wants and when.

I make sure to give him ample opportunities to rescue me and I make sure to thank him ardently each time.

One time we are in a spider web. It is made of moving metal rods misted over by holograms. It sways up and down with the wind. It seems like an easy part of the game. We only have to step through the holes of the web and avoid getting caught on its strings.

I recognize that Arden hasn't gotten a chance to rescue me in a while. So I get caught in one of the strings of the web, making it seem like an accident.

"Oh fuck!" I exclaim as the rod twists to grip my leg, "Arden, I think I might need some help over here."

Arden wades through the holograms towards me. But just as he's halfway there a mechanical spider gargoyle starts coming at us, with many glowing eyes on its many legs and sharp, pointed teeth. Arden startles and jolts back, getting caught on a web himself.

And now we're both trapped. As the spider is coming towards us. We urgently shoot spells at it with our "wands" which we gained on a different mini-quest. But it keeps getting closer.

Just as it's about to reach Arden I throw my wand at it and kill it.

"Luca! You stupid, stupid idiot!" Arden exclaims. "Why did you have to get yourself stuck?" I gulp back my terror.

"Sorry," I say in a quiet voice, "I don't know why I was so clumsy."

I spend the rest of the game trying to make up for that mess. Arden has fun. And that's good. Because all that matters is that Arden has fun. But he still stays angry at me.

When I get home I am exhausted. But I don't get dinner that night. And I think I know why. This summer is going to be a long one.

I go to bed with hunger clawing in my gut that I just cannot ignore.

———

So I go to restaurants and immies and games and parks and amusement parks and galleries, glued to Arden's side. I give Arden everything he wants. I tell him everything he wants to hear. I do everything he wants me to do. I be everything he wants me to be.

When he wants time by himself I clean the house.

I don't get a respite, or a break, save for the small minutes I steal away with my friends and parents. Those small moments keep me alive. Keep me clinging to the tatters of my life. A life that belongs to Arden more than it belongs to me. More than it belongs to my community.

Many people would say that I am lucky. The owners would say that. They would say that I get to play all day, except for the few hours that I spend cleaning. But I don't. Not really. I have to make sure Arden is playing as best as he can all day. I have to make sure Arden is satisfied.

I try to hold on to myself. I try to hold on to the thought that I am worth more than he says I am. That I am my own person. That I have worth that isn't inextricably linked with Arden. And in one sense I do succeed. The knowledge that I am worth more does stay in my head.

But in another sense I don't succeed. The pressure the owners put on me, the weight of my existence, the constant knowledge of my powerlessness, it all sits in my chest and in my gut and puts a heavy weigh upon me, which steals my breath and crushes my soul.

The idea that I'm not worth anything, that I'm not worth anything, that I'm only worth what Arden gives me, it stays in my soul and always makes me feel like I'm no-one. Like I'm nothing. Like I'm just a thing to be used and discarded.

I miss school. It was rebellion. It was revenge. It was proof. Proof that I could do more than just satisfy Arden and his family. Proof that I had a mind and my own skills and talents and abilities.

I miss Ari. He could always sooth me in a way no-one else could. He could always give me hope. He could kindle my embers into a bright and superheated fire.

The melancholy laces through me and gets stronger and stronger every day. Until I feel as if there is no possible way that I could be alive. I usually feel more dead than alive anyways. I usually feel as if death would be a sort of freedom. If I wasn't so scared of it. But I feel in these summer days that the very idea of life has left my body, has left my soul.

Has left me a walking corpse in this barren, overcrowded world.

Though of course Arden knows none of this. He wants me to be happy for him and so he sees me as happy for him.

A terrible part of all of this is the sheer intimacy of it all. I spend so much time with Arden. Right beside Arden. And yet he never sees me. I eat breakfast and dinner every day with his family and yet they never see me. I go to sleep under Arden's bed. A few feet away from him. And we are so close. So, so close. And yet there is such a wide gulf between us.

A gulf of understanding and a gulf of power.

I don't know if he quite understands the power that he holds over me. I don't know if he ever stares at it head on the way that I do. I don't think that he does.

Arden could kill me if he wanted to. He could kill me slowly and painfully and torturously. And it's up to me to make sure that he doesn't want to. It's up to me to hold on to the food and water I get in the most desperate and degrading of ways.

We're brothers, him and me. In a way. We grew up in the same house. With the same people. Always together. And yet we're not brothers, him and me. In a way.

Because he's my master and he will always be my master no matter what anyone says.

But Aleni, Haynen, and Hari help. Mom and dad help. And I hope I help them too. Synths have a way of finding ways to cling to each other, even in impossible situations. Especially in impossible situations. And I love them. Love beyond love. And I'm grateful for them. And I desperately hope that they know it.

I hate the summer.

———

"You guys are letting me have a flyer?" Arden's voice is full of disbelieving exuberance.

"We sure are," Mrs. Harrison tells him.

"Thank you so much!" He almost shouts.

"We think our little boy deserves it," Mr. Harrison says.

"Thank you mom and dad!"

Arden turns to me and grabs me by the shoulders.

"Isn't this the best news you've ever gotten?" He asks me.

"Absolutely, Arden! This is so incredible!" I feign joy. "Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Harrison. Thank you so much!"

We go yo the flyer store so that Arden can pick out whatever flyer he wants. Within a price range.

The store is the most incredible thing I've seen, with flyer after flyer after flyer weaving their ways through the high fake sky. All kinds of real and mythical animals. All kinds of colours and patterns and designs. All kinds of flyers lined up in rows under the clear floor. It's almost dizzying.

But I can't enjoy any of it because I have to keep Arden happy.

"What do you want to pick, Arden?" I keep my voice sweet.

"I think a squid. Let me look around though." He tilts his head upwards and looks at the false sky with wide eyes.

He points out so many different flyers to me, commenting on the merits and disadvantages of each one. And I agree with him on each and every point each and every time.

We spend hours at this store. More time than anyone else, I'm sure. I'm exhausted and worn out and hollow but I have to pretend to be happy.

Eventually he settles on a large squid that is dark blue and green, made of shimmering metal. It is really rather beautiful. Ten times longer than I am tall and twice as tall as I am. I tell him he picked the perfect one. And we go to tell the store clerk what we chose.

She hands us the remote for the flyer and Arden plays with the controls to bring the flyer down from the sky. It hits a few other flyers along the way. He's not an expert yet. But he manages to do it.

The next few days are spent watching Arden play with the flyer in the real sky above a green space. He never hands me he remote. Of course he doesn't. But I watch him and tell him of all the progress he's making.

The squid turns and moves fluidly through the sky, its large head bending in ways that real squids probably can't and its many arms moving in and out. It's harder to control a squid than it is a dragon. Because they have so many different parts. But eventually Arden gets the hang of it.

I think of the story Ella told me. Of the two lovers who flew away on the flyer that they hijacked. I think of Ari. I miss him. His lack leaves a dry, cold, hollow place right in the centre of me. And I count down the achingly long days until I can see him again.

Eventually Arden decides that he's good enough at flying the thing to go test it out at a flyer park. I don't think he's good enough for that yet. But I don't say that. I support his plans.

We go to the park. And it has all sorts of things to fly flyers on. There are ramps and half pipes you could launch them from. Paths you could lead them down. Rocks and pipes you could twist them around. Swirling spinners you could lead them over. Hoops you could fly them through. The options are endless. All of this is floating in the sky and constantly rearranging itself. That last fact adds to the difficulty of it.

I stand beside Arden on his hoverboard as we follow the flyer. Arden makes it do amazing tricks and is fully immersed in the game. I compliment him and act impressed.

There are other flyers and their owners in this sprawling sky park though. And other synths and their owners too. I don't think much of it, trying to spread as much strength and hope to the other synths as I can using only eye contact and facial expressions.

But suddenly two boys fly past us. One has straight brown hair and an intensely concentrating expression. The other one has dark curls and piercing blue eyes. It's Ari! I know him. I would know him anywhere.

My heart jumps in my chest and for the first time in a month I feel joy. He sees me too, and his whole face lights up in a smile. A genuine smile that shines through every part of him.

I have to find a way to see him again! But how?

I think of how it would be possible for us to get away from our masters for a moment and to see each other. Slowly a plan formulates in my head.

I look at Ari and his owner and I track their movements to find out which flyer is theirs. I find that it's a long snake which many colourful dragonfly wings and the face of a lizard.

I wait until our squid is headed towards their flyer. And just before Arden's about to make it change direction, I scream.

"What the hell!" I exclaim, turning my head over to the side.

"What?" Arden startles, following me. He forgets to control the flyer and it goes crashing into the other flyer, sending them both tumbling down.

"Luca! You absolute idiot!" He pushes me off of the hoverboard and sends me crashing down. The landing leaves me sore all over and knocks the breath from my body. But I am unharmed. The flyer has a warranty as well. It won't cost them money to replace. So I am not going to be killed for this one act.

I see Ari run up to me. His owner must have sent him to check on their flyer. Just as I planned. My heart soars in the blue of the sky the second I see the blue of his eyes.

"Luca!" He whispers, kneeling over me, "are you okay?"

"Yes. I just had to see you again."

"I had to see you too."

"I missed you so much."

"I missed you too."

"Can we kiss?"

He leans down to kiss me on the lips. And it's so sweet. It's so sweet. That I don't even mind that I'll miss a week's worth of meals for this. I think. Ari close against me is the only thing that I need.

"What the fuck." Arden's voice cuts through the air like a knife. Oh no. He saw us.

—Chapter Three: A Darkened Prison—

We try to run. We take off, hand in hand, away from the wreckage of the two flyers. Across the green field. But the Harrisons glide up to us on their hoverboards and they hold us down.

Arden calls the police as we struggle in vain to get free.

And after that we are loaded into the back of a police glider. We are given collars that will knock us unconscious if we try to escape. But thankfully, besides that we are unshackled. It's a bit of dignity that I did not deserve to get.

"I'm sorry," I tell Ari, slumped against him on the hard wooden seat, "I was stupid."

"No you weren't." Ari holds me with one arm and strokes my hair with his other hand. "You were overly emotional. And I was overly emotional too. We should've both been paying more attention. This is both of our faults."

"And now I've gotten us killed."

"I'd rather die with you than live without you. In fact, I think I'd rather die with you anyways. I hate my life."

"I hate my life too. But what about our families and friends and all the people who will miss us?"

"They will know that we're finally free. That we're finally in the Green Place where all things are equal and love rules all."

"That communist drivel won't get you anywhere," the cop tell us in his front, cushioned seat. "There is no Green Place after death. Only nothing."

"Shh, don't listen to him," Ari whisphers to me, so quietly that it's just barely audible.

"I won't," I whisper back.

"I've always wanted to die in a rebellious action. And now we will. Rebelling for love is the best rebellion of them all."

"But I'm scared."

"I'm scared too. I don't think anyone's ever not been afraid of dying."

"I'm so scared that I can't bear it."

"I've got you." He holds me against him tighter. And I find a small measure of comfort in his arms.

We keep whispering softly to each other, baring our fears, our regrets, trying to give each other comfort. And it works. Just a little bit it works.

Yet anxiety still builds and builds within me as I watch the scenery drift by behind Ari. I try to only look at Ari. But it's hard to miss, with my ever-alert eyes, as we near the prison complex. The rows and rows of stone cubes that each make up a cell. My alertness came too late. If only I had been alert when Ari and I kissed. If only I was smarter then.

"At least I don't have to see my master ever again," I tell Ari.

"At least I don't have to see mine either. Or his good for nothing family."

"Yeah."

"Do you think we'll end up a story of warning or a story of hope?"

"I think maybe both."

"Get out you little pieces of trash." The police officer grabs us by our collars and yanks us out of the glider. We stumble onto the ground. Dread sits heavy in my gut as I am dragged to the small stone building in line with many other buildings that look exactly like it.

"You rebellious defectives won't be finding a way out of here any time soon." The police officer's words are harsh and full of hatred. They make me shiver. I can't believe I've doomed Ari to this.

We get put through an extremely invasive full-body check and are stripped of our clothes and put into rough gray prison clothes. I find myself unable to breathe. It all seems to be far too real.

I spent so much of my life trying to avoid just this. Trying to avoid being a throwaway and trying to live. But it seems as though in the end my heart was the thing that betrayed me. And all my smiling and grovelling was for nothing.

The police officer opens the door of the prison. It slides up and we are shoved inside. The door slams closed and then it's it. We're locked inside. Everything is real.

There is no light inside the prison save for a small hole on the roof, about the size of my hand. It lets a sliver of light in and from it we can barely see.

Ari just stands there, face solemn, as I run to the door and try to open it. It's no use, as the door extends up above the stone ceiling and down below the stone floor, and is lined on each side by rough stone. Still I run my fingers down the edges of the door, trying and failing to pry it open. I scream and try to push the door open with all my strength. I know I'm wasting calories. But still. Still. I don't think I could bear just giving up.

After what feels like hours I am forced to give up.

I walk up to Ari and he wraps his arms around me, saying nothing. I scream. And it's a horrible, hollow, wretched sound. Ari just hugs me tighter.

"Calm down," he says in a quiet voice. But I can hear the fear laced through it.

"How can I calm down? We're going to die!"

"I understand. I understand it's hard. But if we go into death with dignity then it will be a win against them."

"But they won't even fucking know!"

"But we will know. We'll know. And we'll carry that knowledge with us."

"So what?"

"So when we get to the Green Place we'll be able to tell everyone that we stood up tall."

"You believe too much in the Green Place." I hope I don't hurt him but it's true.

"No I don't. I believe in the Green Place because it's true and because I know in my soul that it's true."

I slump against him and he catches me, lowering us down into the rough, uneven ground. The ground is uneven and rough. The walls are uneven and rough. Everything is uneven and rough. To make it more uncomfortable for us I guess.

"How do you know?" I ask him. "How do you know it's true? My voice rings exhausted and hollow against the walls of the prison.

"Because I can feel it. Can't you feel it too?"

I think about that for a while.

"I can. But how do I know it's not just hope I feel?"

"Because hope is real. Hope is strong. Love is real. Love is strong. The feeling inside your heart, that makes you long for freedom, that feeling is real and it's strong. Don't you feel it?"

In the darkness I lean against Ari. I feel his heartbeat in rhythm with my own. I feel the golden string that connects both of our hearts. I feel how even in this prison he has strength. Even with the weeks stretching in front of us without food or water, he has strength. And I feel that I love him.

I feel that I love my mom and dad. I feel them worrying about me. It fills me with so much horror and guilt. To think that they have to witness the death of their only son. To think that they have to worry about me, and grieve me, and pretend that nothing is wrong.

But I feel the connections between us. The love. I feel the way that they were there for me as much as they possibly could be whenever they possibly could be over all these years. How they were my family, despite us sharing no biological link.

I think of Aleni. The secret moments shared between us. How each of those secret moments are and always will be precious to my heart. I think of the way I will miss her, the way that she will miss me. And under all the guilt and regret I see the unmistakable love that is shared between us.

I think of Haynen. How she shared whatever stories she knew with us whenever she could. How she was always trying to make the burden less heavy. How I always wanted her to know that I appreciated her and everything she did.

I think of Hari. How he was so calm on the outside yet such a storm on the inside. I think about how he always helped us see hope in even the most desperate of situations. And of how we tried to help him see hope in return.

I realize that I won't be seeing any of my people again. And that fact punches through me like a stone ripping through my insides. It hurts more than I knew anything could hurt. But even in the hurt I see love.

I think about all the synths the world over. How we are all connected. Connected by our shared suffering and our shared aching for freedom. Connected by our shared dreams and hope. Connected by our shared histories and futures. But most of all connected by our love. Love that transcends all boundaries and borders and unites us so strongly. So infinitely.

And it hurts. To be in love. To be in love with so many. To be in love so much. But it also strengthens.

Love is strong. And even in the face of death, in Ari's arms, I can see that. And I can see how Ari believes in it. I can see how love can be powerful. How it can be more powerful than death. How it can be more powerful than impossibility. How it can be more powerful than power.

But still. I cannot convince myself that it can be more powerful than the owners. I cannot convince myself that it can save us. The owners have held all the power for far too long.

I tell Ari this. And he tells me, ever so gently, that I'm wrong. I tell him that I don't want to argue. Not here. Not now. And he tells me that we don't have to.

"I'll miss my family. And my friends." Ari's voice cuts through the black silence.

"Me too. They must be so devastated."

"You're right, they must. It's not fair."

"It's not fair at all."

"I fucking hate the owners."

"I fucking hate myself."

"Don't you dare."

"I will."

"Don't."

"I just wish I could be there to comfort them. But I can't."

"That's not fair."

"It really isn't."

"But maybe it is comforting for them to know that we're finally free from all of our burdens and our griefs."

I think about that. I know that everyone's always seen at least some amount of hope in death. But I know that that doesn't banish the grief.

"Let's hope they can get through it."

"Yes. Let's hope. All good things come from hope."

"They do. It's so strange. The human ability to find hope in the most desperate of situations."

"It is. So strange and so beautiful."

"Human souls are truly amazing."

"They are. They're capable of so much and yet they need so much."

"When I'm with you I think that I only exist to love and be loved."

"And you are loved. We are loved. By the whole universe."

"It doesn't feel that way right now."

"I know."

We stay like that for a while. Entangled in each other. Speaking of things far bigger than ourselves and inextricably within ourselves at the same time. Speaking of the emotions we both know that the other is having. Speaking of all the people who we left behind.

There are far too many people who we left behind.

Eventually hunger begins cutting through us and leaving us aching. Thirst begins burning within us and leaves us dry. And I know that this is just an omen of things to come. Of the hurt that will come.

And that makes me cling to Ari even more.

And we continue looking at our pain and trying to distract ourselves until we are unable to keep awake and even the rough floor is not a deterrent to our sleep.

I sleep entangled in Ari. Entangled in my Ari. Something I have never been able to do before. And in a strange way it is sweet. Unbelievably sweet.

When we awake we awake to soreness and hunger. But we awake to each other. We awake to warmth. We awake to thirst. We awake to fear. We awake closely nestled within each other. And I hope that my loved ones know that I'm not alone. I hope that they know that I have Ari's strength to get me through this.

The second day is much harder than the first. We make the most of our limited time together by being entangled in each other. And we worry. Even though there is not really a point in worrying. There is nothing we can do to change our fate.

"We were so fucking careful. So careful. Right until the end." I lean against Ari's shoulder.

"It should've paid off. We were so good at hiding. One moment of weakness shouldn't've brought it all down."

"We were good at hiding."

"We shouldn't've had to be good at hiding. We should've been allowed to love freely in the open.

"They don't want us to have anything."

"But I have you. I have you right now. And they can't do anything about it."

All at once blinding light floods the cell as the door opens. Ari and I look at each other for a moment before making a run for it. I feel a sharp piercing in my neck. And then everything goes black.

When I awake in the cell it has two more people in it, besides Ari and I. I can't make out many of their features in the almost absolute darkness. But they are both taller than me.

"Hi. You're awake." The voice is feminine and sounds a few years older than me.

"Yeah," I reply groggily.

"Thank the universe. We were worried about you. Well, we still are," the other voice says.

"Is Ari up yet?"

"Is Ari the other kid? No, he's not up," the second voice answers.

"My name is Luca." I get up from where I'm lying, my head sore from the fall, "my pronouns are he/him. What about you guys?"

"My name is Elsa. My pronouns are she/her."

"My name is Finn. My pronouns are they/them."

"It's nice to meet you guys. Though I wish we could meet under better circumstances."

"You can say that again." Finn's voice is oversaturated with rueful darkness.

I see Ari start to stir.

"Hey, Ari," I whispher to him gently.

"What?" His voice is disoriented and tired.

"We have two new cellmates."

"Oh yeah. Who?"

"This is Elsa, she/her, and that's Finn, they/them." I help Ari up.

"I'm sorry that you guys are here with us. This is a shit place to be. I'm Ari, he/him."

"It's good to meet you, Ari. Even though I wish none of us were here." Elsa's voice is laden with anxiety.

"How did you guys end up here?" I ask.

"I got tired of being thought of as a boy," Finn starts, "I couldn't take it anymore. I demanded to be recognized as not a boy. But my owner didn't like that. He wanted me to be a boy just like him."

"Owners fucking suck," I tell him.

"That's a huge understatement," Ari comments.

"I agree with Ari," Elsa remarks.

"Anyways, my owner wasn't alright with me making demands of my own. He said he'd throw me away and he did and now I'm in the trash can."

"That was very brave of you," Ari says wonderingly.

"Not brave. Reckless. Emotional. Foolish. I just couldn't take it anymore. It was like the pressure was building and building until it just all burst out."

"I understand," Elsa states. "It would be a lot of pressure constantly having to hide such a vital part of yourself."

"Absolutely," I agree.

"That you were able to hold on for so long is a miracle," Ari tells him.

"I wasn't able to hold on for long enough."

"Don't blame yourself over it. This is the owners' fault. Not your own." Elsa is right.

"It sure feels like my own."

"It's not," I assure them.

"It's just like an owner to deny basic parts of us. Their job is to deny everything about us that doesn't fit their model for who they want us to be." Ari is subtly seething. And I understand exactly why.

"You're right," Finn agrees, "the owners do deny us everything."

"Fuck the owners," I say.

"Oh absolutely," Elsa agrees.

"If only we could." Finn's voice is threaded with strings of longing.

"We can," Ari assures, "someday, somehow, in this life or the next, we can."

"You have a lot of faith," Elsa tells him.

"I need faith. We all need faith," he replies.

"I need more faith," Finn remarks.

"I probably do too," I add.

The hunger is getting hotter and sharper and more powerful.

"So how did you end up here, Elsa? If you want to talk about it?" Ari's voice is soft and gentle. I hold Ari's hand on one side and Finn's hand on the other. Feeling close to people helps take a bit of the sharpest razor edge off of the hunger. Finn and Ari take Elsa's hands and now we're in an unbroken circle. The small beam of light is in between all of us, providing faint illumination.

I'm in so much pain. The hunger is clawing up my gut and down my chest and the thirst is scraping down my throat and leaving my mouth like mud. But I'm not alone.

"It's not a very unique story," Elsa begins, "I just couldn't satisfy my owner enough and she got tired of me."

"Everyone's story is unique," I let her know. "And you didn't deserve to get thrown out."

"I tried so hard. It just wasn't enough." There is sorrow in her voice.

"Don't blame yourself," Finn tells her, "you did your best. It's her fault for having such high demands."

"We shouldn't have to give in to their demands anyways." Ari's voice is dark with anger.

"You're right," Elsa agrees. "I hate giving into their demands and I hate having to always put them on a pedestal."

"Well now you won't have to," Ari states.

Fin bursts out laughing, but it's a broken, desperate sort of laugh.

"Yeah!" They exclaim, "that's one good thing about being here." We let them laugh, and Elsa reaches over to stroke their back.

"Another good thing about being here," I say quietly, "is that I got to meet all of you."

"I guess that's right as well," Finn replies softly. "At least we're not alone. It would be unbearable if we were."

"Synths are never alone," Ari states, "we always have each other."

"Yet we always feel alone, don't we?" Elsa sighs.

"At least we have our people," I breathe. "I miss them unbearably."

"I miss them unbearably as well," Finn agrees.

"We all do." Elsa's voice is broken and jagged.

"Who was in your family?" Ari asks Elsa and Finn. "Who did you have to leave behind? If you want to talk about it. I would understand if you didn't."

"I want to talk about it," Elsa states. "It would give voice to the sorrow."

"That's' very important," I tell her. "Words have power."

"I have a little sister," Finn starts, voice achingly sad. "Her name is Arabelle. She's sweet. So sweet. She's all alone. So alone. We were all there for her. But she was still alone."

"She does sound very sweet," I say to him, voice feather-soft.

"She is. She really is. She likes to sing and dance. And like all kids she loves stories. She's sneaky, very sneaky. And she manages to steal food from the owners. I hope she never gets caught. I feel so bad for leaving her."

"That's understandable," Elsa tells them quietly.

"I also have a sister," Ari tells us. "Her name is Laurie. She's older than me though. I love her. I'll miss her. She's worrying about me so much. But she always knew that I'd end up dying early. She respected it. She's so strong. She's smart. Incredibly smart. If she wasn't a synth she could do anything. But she's always been too scared to sneak into school. Not that I blame her."

"Sneaking into school?" Elsa's voice is curious. "Who would do that?"

"Ari and I did," I tell her. "Ari stole a passcode from his owner's dad. We went for three years. Starting from grade five. In that time we fell in love."

"That's beautiful." Finn's voice is full of wonder. "I'm glad you guys did that."

"I'm glad too," I echo.

"I didn't have any siblings," Elsa tells us. "I always grew up alone. I always felt alone. In that house. I think maybe if I had siblings, if I had anyone as young as me to relate to and depend on, maybe I wouldn't have broken as much as I did. Maybe I wouldn't have ended up here. It was so lonely being the only synth child in my house. My owner was kind of like a sister but of course she didn't count. But I did have parents though. I just never saw them as much as I would've liked."

"I didn't see my parents as much as I needed to either," Finn speaks.

"Me neither," Ari says.

"Me neither."

"My parents are great though. I love them. They must be so worried for me." Finn's words echo with sadness.

"So must mine," Ari says.

"And mine," I add.

"And mine."

"My mother was named Claire," she continues. "She was always soft spoken and secretive. She told me stories of hope. She rocked me to sleep a couple of nights when I was younger. My dad is named Adi. He has a sadness all about him. So deep. So aching. He was always so soft and gentle. He called me his baby bird. I miss them both so much."

"I'm so sorry," Ari tells her. "They sound amazing. They're lucky to have you."

"I let them down."

"No. You didn't. And they'll be happy that you can be in the Green Place where all people are free. Do they believe in the Green Place?"

"They do."

"The synths in my life do too," Finn comments. "The communist messages must be spreading fast."

"That's good though. Isn't it? More people are going and joining them." My voice is laced with slivers of hope.

"It is very good," Ari agrees.

"Would you join the communists if you could?" Finn asks.

"Oh I absolutely would," Ari declares.

"I would too. Ari and I were planning to join them when we were older."

"It's sad that that won't happen," Elsa tells us, "that's a beautiful plan."

"Did you have any dreams of joining the communists?" I ask her.

"Yes, but they were always just dreams. I knew I couldn't act upon them."

"Well dreams are important too," I say.

Everyone is quiet for a while after that, I don't know why. Perhaps we are thinking. There is a lot to think about, after all. But perhaps we are feeling. Feeling the overwhelming melancholy and the thick grief and choking regret. Feeling the undying love underneath that. Feeling each other.

"So my mother and father are named Isabelle and Bertie." Finn says into the quietness. "Isabelle always hugged me so softly whenever she could. Bertie lifted me onto his shoulders once, when we had a small moment to ourselves in the house and I was small. I felt so tall. Isabelle believed in life after death. Even before the communists were anything at all. She always told me to not fear death. That one day we would be free together. My dad believed it too."

"My mother, Ella, told me that she will be reunited with her girlfriend after death. She loves her a lot. And she loves me a lot. And she loves my father a lot. She's so full of love. And she's very keen about the communists. She tracks their every movement. My dad Sam was planning to join the communists when I grew up. He'd be an amazing communist. He's sneaky and strong and resourceful. My mom was even maybe going to go with him. Then they could get revenge on the owners together."

"Both of your guys's parents sound wonderful," Elsa tells us softly. "You both are very lucky that you had them all."

"I miss them though. More than I ever thought myself capable of missing anyone." My voice is dark and heavy.

"Of course you do," Finn says. "We all do."

"It's not fair that we're parted from them." Ari pipes up.

"No it's not fair at all." My voice is laced with anger. "They found moments every single day to spend time with me. When I was sad, when I was scared. When I felt alone. When I needed someone. When I was angry. They always tried to make me feel better. Make me calm down. And now I am left without them. And they are left without me. Without their child. And it's just not fair."

"You're right," Finn tells me.

We stay quiet for another while. Clutching each other's hands hard and soaking in the anger and hatred that's in the tiny room. It fuels us. Warms us. It mingles with my hunger and my pain and it transforms it. Transforms it into something else.

"What are your parents like?" Elsa asks Ari.

"My parents were always there for me. Whenever they could be. They said that the world would make me feel like I'm nothing sometimes. But I have to to stand up and know that I'm something. My mother is named Alice. And my dad is named Jaden. Alice loves the stars. She knows so many constellations. Jaden isn't afraid of what other people think of him. Even if it hurts him, he knows who he is."

"They sound like wonderful people," Finn says.

"They are."

"Do you believe we'll ever see them again?" They ask.

"I do."

"Good for you," Elsa says. I smile at the soft camaraderie between us. "You have to have belief. You have to have faith. It's something that will get you through the hardest of times. And it's something that will show you the truth. Show you the goodness. Show you the beauty of even the most wretched of situations. My faith has always been a light in the worst of times. When I felt like I was all alone with no one to see me or hear me. When I felt like I was drowning in so much misery that I could do nothing but die. I had my faith to cling to. And it was soothing even if it didn't stop the hurt. It was angry. It was hopeful. It was a strange sort of power amid all the powerlessness. It stopped me from drowning. It got me through. Even if I was left in unimaginable pain, it got me through. It kept my spirit alive. Kept my spark of rebellion alive. I hope that you all have faith that can do that for you as well."

"Wow, Elsa." Finn's voice is full of wonder.

I echo them. And then it's quiet for a while. We all soak in the lingering power of Elsa's speech. It's a beautiful speech. It gives us strength. Heals us.

"So what about about friends? Who else do you guys love?" Ari's question echoes against the walls.

"I have a friend named Lavinia." Elsa's voice is sad. "She's kind. She always finds a way to make my life brighter. I hope I did the same for her before I was taken away. She loved trees and clouds and nature so much. She was full of energy and spirit and hope."

"She sounds amazing," I tell her.

"She really does, Finn adds.

"She is. I have another friend named Ashlee. She is quiet and dark and serious. She's gentle and kind and understanding. She has so many secrets. More than she could ever share with anyone. But she always tried to share them with us. I'm glad I had her in my life."

"That's amazing," Ari says.

"She is. And I have another friend. Jack. He had so many hilarious, mischievous ideas. I wish he could act on them. It would be hilarious. He has so much rage inside him. But it's a bright sort of rage, not a dark sort. He hides it very well, though. He has to."

"He sounds like Ari's sort of guy," I remark.

"Is Ari mischievous?" Finn asks.

"He's sneaky. And he's rageful."

"Aww thanks, Luca. That's such a nice compliment." Ari's voice somehow, unbelievably, carries mirth.

"And the other friend that I had is named Leo. He is always looking for ways to make us feel better. He lost his first mother, she was thrown away and replaced. I don't think he ever gotten over that loss. It tore him apart inside. He carries such sadness."

"That's terrible," Ari says.

"It really is," I echo.

"They all sound like amazing people," Finn tells her.

"They are. And I'm going to miss them so so much."

"We're all going to miss our friends," Finn says. "But at least that means we loved them."

"We'll see them again one day. I promise you all," Ari asservates.

"Part of me definitely believes that," I tell him. "But part of me has doubts."

"Me too," Finn agrees.

"I believe we'll see them," Elsa states. "What about you guys? Who are your friends?"

"I have a friend named Stella," Ari tells our new friends. "She's very thoughtful. She sees beauty even in this world. She shares with us all the beauty that she can. So that we could find beauty too. She has such a strong spirit that has been through so much hardness yet she still has hope."

"She sounds beautiful," Finn says.

"And my other friend is named Riannon. She has a certain grace to her. She can hold herself up tall even when the whole world tells her to keep her head low. She's an inspiration to me. She gives us strength. She's sweet and kind and has a temper that she has to hide, though not from us."

"She must be so sweet," Elsa tells him.

"And I have a friend named Carlos. He's very serious. A little bit shy. But he's very curious. He has so many questions. I wish I could answer them all. He is the one who makes sure we all stay level-headed and calm. I don't know what we'd do without him."

"That's amazing." Elsa says.

"You're very lucky to have them," Finn tells him.

"Though I don't have them anymore," Ari sighs.

"You have us," I tell him. "And you have your soul bonds with them."

"You're right, Luca," he replies.

"So Finn. Who are your friends?" I ask them.

"My friends are amazing. I have one friend named Brae. And he's so sensitive. I don't think I've ever seen him smile. But he's so attentive and understanding. He always knows just how to make us feel better. I wish we could make him feel better. I feel like we always let him down."

"You guys try," Ari says, "and that's what matters. And I'm sure he really appreciates it."

"Thanks. I hope he does."

"Oh he does," Elsa assures.

"My other friend is named Devin. He has such a wild imagination. The things he comes up with. They're just amazing. And he's got a good sense of humour as well. We all love his jokes. Though of course he has to tell us them in secret. All the rain in the world couldn't put out his fire."

"That's beautiful," Ari speaks.

"How about you?" Finn asks me, "who are your friends?"

It hurts incredibly to talk. But I have to talk. I have to keep myself distracted ad much as I can. So I tell them about Hari and Haynen and Aleni. And they understand how much I love them and how much I miss them. And they understand my constant state of devastation.

We keep talking through dry, parched throats as the hunger and the thirst grows and grows. We keep naming our emotions, naming each other, and trying to give each other strength.

We all talk equally. As equals. And this is so much better than the millions of conversations I've had with my owners.

Eventually we are tired enough to be able to sleep. And we all huddle together for warmth. And it's beautiful, the camaraderie that we have. I don't know how I'll bear to watch them die. I hope I die first.

When we awake there is another figure in the shadows. Another person in our cell.

"Hi," Elsa greets them. "My name is Elsa, she her. Who are you?"

"My name is Aveni. My pronouns are also she/her. It's nice to meet you all." Her voice rings calm and confident and clear. She has none of the fear the rest of us have. How?

But we all introduce ourselves to her. And I ask her why she isn't afraid.

"Because we're not going to die," she says. "I promise." We're not going to die? What kind of absurd assertion is that? But still, hearing her words sends a shiver of hope running through my chest.

"How?" Finn asks.

"Exactly. How?" Ari echoes.

"Because you're going to be free."

"How?" Elsa asks, voice infused with doubt. Yeah, exactly. How? She's not exactly being very specific here. She's probably just some poor girl who has lost her grips with reality. I don't know how to break the news to her that there's no getting out of here. I don't know if I should.

"I'm a communist. Well, a lot of people are communists. But I'm a fighter in the communist resistance. And I'm going to cut through the walls with a laser. And then we're going to sneak to the gilder my team has prepared on the outskirts of the prison complex.

My whole heart lights up with hope. It feels as if I've been struck by lightning. But in a good way. In such an incredibly glorious way. I can hardly breathe with joy. We're going to get out of here. We're going to get out. We're going to get out! We're going to live!

"Where will you get the laser?" Elsa asks. And she has a good point. Where will she get the laser? The elation in my heart dampens a bit but still I have hope.

"Well here is the gross part," Aveni starts. "I swallowed the pod containing the laser before I got myself arrested. I'm going to have to throw it back up."

"That's an amazing plan!" Ari exclaims, voice full of bright joy. I smile at him and he beams back at me.

"Guys, we're going to be free!" I almost shout.

"We are!" Finn echoes.

"But why can't you just do this from the outside?" Elsa asks.

"Because the light would give us away."

"That makes sense."

I'm going to open the cell when it's bright outside, so that I can see. But we'll get out when it's dark."

"Sounds like a perfect plan," I tell her. "Thank you so much for saving us."

"Think nothing of it. It's what communists do."

We talk until the beam of light coming in through the ceiling brightens. This time instead of melancholy, our words and voices are exhuberant. I have never felt such joy in my life. It feels like every single part of my body and soul is burning with bright light. Aglow with hope. I'll finally be able to taste real freedom. I don't even know what real freedom will be like. I tell them this.

"Oh real freedom is beautiful. It's glorious. It's intoxicating." Aveni's words are tantalizing.

Finally the light burns brighter and Aveni sticks a finger into her throat and vomits all over the floor. She pushes out a small capsule the size of a small rock. And she takes off the casing to reveal a tiny laser.

Then she runs it over one small square of the wall, again and again and again, agonizingly precise each time. We watch her with baited breath. She asks us if any of us want a turn. And of course we do. And so she watches us as we run the laser over the wall again and again and again.

Soon it becomes too dark to work anymore. But we're not done, so we take a break. Exhausted, starving, and dying of dehydration, we find a way to sleep. When we awake,the room buzzes with talk of freedom and rebellion.

"So what's it like, being a resistance soldier?" Ari asks Aveni.

"It's beautiful. I really feel like I'm working towards creating a better world. I feel like we can win against all the injustice and inequality. Or at least we can take a stand against it."

"How did you come to join the resistance?" Elsa asks.

"A couple of years ago my neighbourhood got taken over by resistance fighters. My owners were killed and all the synths freed."

"That's amazing," I say. "That must've been one heck of an opportunity."

"It was. I had the choice of living in society as a civilian or of joining the fight. Of course I chose to join the fight. And I'm going to keep choosing to fight until I die."

"Wow you're really awesome," Elsa tells her breathlessly.

A large part of the day is spent cutting into the wall. Until finally, the wall is almost broken.

"Give me this last part," Aveni says and Finn hands the laser to her. We wait with bated breath. And ever so slowly, finally, finally the wall is cut clean through.

We cheer elatedly and come together for a group hug. Next, we gather the last of our strength and push the block we cut out away from the rest of the wall. Oh so slowly it moves. And then we crawl out of the small hole, helping each other through.

We put the block of stone back into the wall where it came from. So no-one would know what we did. But we keep look outs and scatter every time a guard comes anywhere near.

Finally we are following Aveni through the maze of buildings, padding softly on bare gray stone, hearts clenched with fear and hope and terror and promise.

—Chapter Four: A Bright Promise—

We drive away on another glider. This one has fake seats that we have to hide under, so that it looks like the glider is empty. Even though we're driving in the dead of night, we have to be extra cautious.

It's hot and stuffy and awkward and annoying. It hurts, and I'm still hungry, folded like a fetus beside Finn and Elsa. I count down the seconds. The seconds until I have water. The seconds until I have food. The seconds until I can get out of this car. The seconds until I'm free, properly free, for the first time in my life.

Eventually I fall asleep, the hunger not being enough to ward off the exhaustion. And when I awake I find myself on a pile of blankets on a floor. This is softer than anything I've ever been on before. I get up, and I feel something strange in my arm. I look up to see that I'm attached to an IV. Wow. This is strange. I look around and see curtains all around me.

A man - I think - walks into the room. He has simple brown clothes and looks somewhat tired. He is carrying a tray of soup with a tall glass of milk.

"Are you awake?" He asks me.

"Yeah," I answer.

"Drink this. You need fluids. You're so dehydrated."

"I feel better."

"That's probably because of the rest and the IV. You still need to get your fluids up though."

"Am I in Veritas?" I sit up and take the tray from him. Then I sip on the milk. Veritas is the name for the part of the world controlled by the communists.

"Yes, you are. It's great to have you here."

"Thanks. Where are the others?"

"They're in the other sections. If you want we could open the curtains and let you see them. But when they wake up. They're still sleeping."

"Oh. Thanks for the food."

"You're welcome. Eat up."

"What's your name?"

"My name is Mark. What's your's? Oh I'm he/him by the way."

"Me too. I'm Luca. Nice to meet you Mark."

"Nice to meet you too."

"Are you a nurse?"

"I am, when I'm not a soldier."

"That sounds amazing."

"Thanks. What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I guess I want to be a doctor. Though I've never had that choice."

"That's really tragic. Well you have the choice now."

"Did you always want to be a nurse?"

"No. I used to not think about what I wanted to be. I was just a synth child destined to be a toy forever. But then I escaped and now I'm a nurse."

"Wow. You're a synth too?"

"I am."

"That's amazing. Is it true that the resistance is made up of mostly synths?"

"Yeah. We are mostly synths. And some freeborn people who realized that the current trajectory of things is bad. Though this neighbourhood is all synths."

"Were you a personal synth?"

"I was."

"Wow. That's just like me."

"Yeah. But now I'm a free person and so are you."

I smile.

"The kitchen is just at the end of the hall and to the left. Refill your food once you're done this tray."

"Sure. Thanks for the food Mark. It's really amazing."

"You're welcome. You deserve to be well-fed."

"You do too."

"Aww thank you. You're so sweet."

"You're so sweet as well."

"Aw well, I try to be."

"Trying is what counts after all."

"It is. Now finish your food."

"Okay."

He leaves, and I eat in silence for a while. Eventually the other three escapees wake up and they get food too. We don't talk. Just focus on scarfing the glorious food down. We're free now. We have all the time to talk in the world. But not right now. Right now we fill up our trays with soup and bread and milk and water and vegetables and meat. Until we are full and healthy.

After some time goes by a lady with her dark hair in many braids enters the room.

"Hi everyone. My name is Rachel. My pronouns are she/her. Are you all feeling better?"

"Yes," we reply in a messy unison.

"That's good. Do you want to take a tour of the compound?"

"Sure," I say, and the others agree with me. But just as we're about to get up, Mark comes rushing into the room.

"They still need to rest," he asserts.

"Mark, they've been resting all day."

"And before that they went five days without eating or drinking. Don't get them out and about yet."

"They're recovered enough to take a tour of the compound."

"Why don't we ask them that?"

"Okay fine. Are you guys ready for a tour?"

We think about it for a little bit.

"I think I'm ready," Finn says.

"Me too," Elsa adds.

"Sure, let's go," I say.

"I'm excited for this," Ari states.

"Okay fine," Mark yields, "you guys can go. But I strongly recommend going to bed right after."

"Sure thing, Mark," I tell him.

We get up and unhook our IVs. We follow Rachel out of the room. She leads us down the hall to the kitchen.

"I'm sure you've been here before," she states, "but let's just start somewhere familiar." She then leads us to another door which leads to a room with a bookshelf full of binders.

"This is the office room, where most of our records are kept."

She takes us into two more rooms that mirror our rooms and tells us that they are extra medical rooms. She leads us into a medium sized supply room filled with shelves of medical equipment, including many bandages and many strange devices.

"This is where we keep our medical equipment," she tells us.

Next we go down the stairs to a large, unfurnished open room with blankets all over half the room and the other half of the smooth floor uncovered. There are people sitting on the blankets and talking to each other. Many of them are bandaged. All of them have laser guns at their sides. They turn to look at us.

"Hi," Finn waves. They all smile back, some of them waving and most of them echoing back a disunited chorus of hellos.

"This is the main room where the people in this compound sleep," Rachel tells us. "It's where we hang out before bed and also where we do some of our training."

We keep following Rachel to a smaller room off of the main room. It is filled with microchips and bits of metal and scraps and tools and batteries. There are many half-finished gadgets lying around.

"This is our workshop, where we make a lot of our equipment. It's where I work, when I'm not fighting."

She takes us next to a room filled with makeshift dummies and punching bags, along with many sand bags. There are jets attached to everything.

"This is the room where specialized training happens. It's also where a lot of us go to vent stress."

We go to another dust-filled room that is large and crammed with all kinds of stuff, including many ornaments, toys, recreational equipment, robots, and technology of all kinds. And we are lead to about four more rooms that are the same thing.

"This is where we put the stuff that was cluttering up the house before. Though many things we destroyed and we used the parts for other things."

We follow her into a room partitioned with many curtains to make a grid.

"These are the change rooms and also where people keep their private stuff."

Finally, we follow her to a small supply closet that is filled with a couple of mops and brooms and cloths.

"And this is where we keep our cleaning supplies."

After that we follow her outside. There is a space of concrete that she says is used for training. And the large yard of the house has been converted into a large field growing a few different types of plants. It is enclosed by a force field.

"This is where we grow food for the community. We have wheat, barley, beans, lentils, tomatoes, potatoes, carrots and squash. The people two conmpounds over from us have a chicken farm and that's where we get our protein for the community. There's also a field for a cow at the end of the street."

"Wow," Finn says. "You guys are sure organized well."

"Thanks. We have to be. It's the difference between life and death. Anyways, you see that house at the end of the road? That's where we go to have our meetings."

"Cool." I say.

"And that's the end of the tour. Mark says you should rest. But if you want we can make a spot for you all in the main room. Or you can even transfer to another compound if you want. They're mostly all the same."

"I think I'm okay with staying here for now," Ari says. The other three of us agree with him. And we go to empty beds amid the twenty or so people sitting in the main room. It's cozy there. With pillows and blankets strewn all over. People talking softly and sometimes laughing. It feels like a community. Feels like the kind of community I've never had before. The kind of community I've always wanted.

"So what are your names and pronouns?" A woman asks us. We all introduce ourselves and they introduce themselves as well and we keep talking until it's time to sleep.

"What is life like in the resistance?" I ask.

"Oh it's dangerous," A man named Ryden says.

"And busy," A person named Loven adds, "We train and work all day. And we plan hit-and-runs. And we go on them. And we defend our territory. Get new recruits. Train them. Train ourselves. Heal the injured. Make weapons and tools. We grow food. We make fake documents for the people who want to leave. It's all very busy."

"But it's worth it," a woman named Crystie declares. "So worth it. In every breath you breathe and every step you take, in every fear you push through, it feels like you're standing up to the owners. It feels like you're changing the world. It feels like you're freeing future generations."

"Would you guys want to join the resistance?" A man named Faye asks.

"I definitely want to!" Ari pipes up. "But only if my boyfriend wants to as well. More than anything I want to be with him."

"I want to join the resistance," I tell them. "I want to make my parents proud. I want to stand up for all the synths and the people who are held down by the system."

"That's amazing," a woman responds.

"I think I want to be in the resistance too," Finn states. "You guys are doing a lot of good work to help people and save people and free them and give them hope. I want to be a part of that."

"That's great," A man named David exclaims. "We always love having new recruits."

"I definitely want to be in the resistance," Elsa asserts. "I need to make the owners pay for all the things that they've done to us. I need to know that all my hurt and my hope meant as much as it possibly could."

"Good," a woman named Ray states. "They should pay." There is a chorus of cheers all around us, which we join in.

I miss my family. I still miss my family a lot. And I miss my friends. I miss them a lot. I mourn them. And I mourn how they're forced to mourn me. The thought that they think I'm dead still sits heavy in my chest and my gut like a thousand stones.

But at the same time I feel lighter. Lighter than I've ever felt before. I feel like I'm free. Like I'm equal. And like I'm safe in my new community and my new life. Even if I die, I will die as a free person. And that's beautiful.

We keep getting food and water from the kitchen. We need to get our health back to where it was before. We eat these tasteless protein bars. And we join the conversations.

I fall asleep next to Ari and Elsa. And it's sweet and warm and safe and comfortable.

My dreams are beautiful that night. I am flying through the sky with Ari beside me. We look at each other and we hold hands. Suddenly hundreds of people rise up out of the clouds to fly with us. And the wind blows in all of our hair and the sun shines on all of our faces in the bright blue of the sky.

I wake up and I stretch myself out in the sun. The people around me start brushing their teeth and hair and talking as they get their beds in order. I join them.

"How did you sleep?" Ari asks me.

"Amazing. You?"

"Beautiful, since I had you beside me."

"How did you sleep, Ryden?"

"Oh good. Thanks for asking. You?"

People stream into the kitchen and get breakfast. We go too and get food from the fridges. We all talk as we eat. It's cheery. Relaxed. Anyone can talk if they want to. Anyone can say what they want to. It really feels like a real family. I can feel the love flowing through us.

Soon enough the meal is finished and the dishes are done. The older people all stream out to do their various tasks. And the four of us are left with nothing to do.

But soon Rachel meets us again, this time with an open notebook and a pen.

"I just have to do some documentation and bookkeeping with you guys," she explains.

"Sure," Elsa smiles.

"First of all I'll need your names, pronouns, and ages." We tell her. Elsa is sixteen. Finn is fifteen. Ari is thirteen, as I already know, and so am I.

"You guys are really young," Rachel tells us. "Unfortunately you can't be involved in any fighting until you're seventeen. But in the meanwhile you can train. The others are just outside running laps right now. After stretching you can go join them if you want. You can also help out in one of the other tasks that are just needed to keep camp running. Or you can just hang out."

We thank her and go about the compound. Ari, Elsa, and I join the group doing training. We train very hard, until our muscles are all sore. We run, stretch, and are introduced to hand-to-hand combat. We climb the pipes at the end of the garage and we do balancing tests on each other. There is target practice afterwards, with difficult, moving targets. Finally, breathing hard and flowing with energy, we disband to lunch.

Lunch is a brisk affair. Some people take longer but most finish their food and hurry back out to their jobs. This place is so very busy. But it's a free sort of busy. I like it.

I go to find Mark. I find him climbing a rope in the training room. He sees me and he jumps down.

"Hi, Luca," he chimes amicably.

"Hi Mark. How did you train to be a nurse?"

"There are a lot of textbooks in the medical equipment room. Do you want to check them out? Start with the basic chemistry and biology textbooks and then work your way up. We need a good doctor around these parts. People always get injured."

"Thank you so much!" I almost shout. I am so ecstatic.

I run up to the medical equipment room and dig through the piles of textbooks stacked on top of each other, piled at the bottom of a counter. When I find a book that's the right level for me I pull it out and sit down near a window.

It's so interesting. So very interesting. I find myself immersed in it entirely. I've never gotten the chance to learn without the constant weight of fear heavy on me. It feels so good. So mesmerizing. I suppose that now that I'm in the resistance I can learn without pressure or fear. I can learn all that I can.

It feels beautiful.

We come together for dinner again and there are jokes and laughter. There is reminiscing on the sacrifices of previous fights. There is serious, solemn remembrance of fallen comrades. And there are plans for a future without differentiation and inequality.

The plans are so amazing. I've always dreamed and planned about a future free of the lines and confines society has created. But those dreams seemed like only dreams. Until now.

"So we'll stop producing synths," Rachel is explaining, "because no child deserves to grow up in one of those robotic horror stories that are training centres. Never again. Present-day synths will be able to get married and have children if they want." I smile at Ari. "And we'll all come together to make decisions. Like the resistance already does now. Except it will be more organized." There are cheers all around.

After dinner we clean up the house. And we all do it together and it's done in a flash. We all cook together to make some simple meals for tomorrow. The kitchen is so crowded and bustling.

We settle down to sleep. And I think of what a good day this was.

I'm still haunted by my past. It still seeps down into my soul like aggressive poison. I still carry the sorrow and the shame of years and years. And I believe that I will be carrying it for a while. Maybe forever. But I can feel myself start to heal already. And that's an act of revenge. Healing is the best revenge. But real revenge is pretty beautiful too.

—Chapter Five: A Clear Young Man—

It's been ten years since I was a broken thirteen-year-old in that prison. It's been ten years since I was a new recruit trying to find my place in the rebellion. It's been ten years since Ari and I first realized we could die together.

It's been ten years since the communist resistance was just starting to blossom into a formidable storm of rage. It's been ten years since we were just an annoyance to the status quo. It's been ten years since they underestimated us.

It's been ten years since I first picked up that high school chemistry book and read it in the sun by a window.

The resistance really started picking up speed the year that I joined it. Veritas, the land controlled by resistance fighters, grew more and more each day. The borders we had to patrol and secure grew longer and longer, grew more numerous. And so did the fabric of people patrolling them.

We kept getting new recruits. Recruits we rescued from prison. Recruits we freed when we took control of the land of their ex-owners. Recruits that escaped by themselves and found their own ways of joining us.

Of course, many people who were rescued by us didn't join the resistance. We forged them secret identities. Our IT people are really amazing. The legend is that the resistance itself was founded by a pair of synths who secretly learned how to code. Anyways. We forged them secret identities. And they lived their lives pretending to be freeborn citizens out in the world. Often they spied for us here and there, and helped our operations in other ways. That help was invaluable.

As more and more territory fell under our control, the government tried harder and hard to bring us down. And missions got more dangerous. Mark, myself, and the other medical staff always had our hands full with patients after most missions. But we had more medical personnel too. And better-trained personnel. We could save most people.

I am a fully-formed doctor now. I read all the textbooks and learned all the things. I also learned so much by helping and watching the nurses and doctors as they treated injuries and diseases. All this hands-on practice gave me the guts I needed to be an effective medical professional.

I love my job. It's beyond my wildest dreams to get to be doing this work. And I'm an inspiration to the new generation of young, freed synths who want to pursue education.

I am also able to have my voice heard. And my poems circulate throughout the resistance, being told by word of mouth from one neighbourhood to another. It helps keep the morale up. To share poems and sing songs. I try to not let the praise get to my head. It's just my way of contributing. Everyone has their own way of contributing.

I'm not just a doctor and a poet but also a soldier. We all are. Ari and I go into battle together. With our laser guns and jet packs and shields and bombs and grenades and sonic piercers. There are so many weapons. And new weapons to learn about each year as the rebels and the government compete in an arms race. Battle is chaotic and terrifying and difficult. But it's thrilling in its own way.

I've watched dozens of comrades die. The grief is almost unbearable. When I was a young recruit I was never prepared for this sort of grief. Not when I was a thirteen-year-old deciding to stay with the resistance. But at the same time there's a sort of victory to the loss. They died. Of course. But they died as free people. They died standing on their feet and standing against those who sought to oppress them.

I'd be honoured to die in such a way. Even though I still fear death. We all do.

Elsa died. She died honourably, shielding her unit from radiation. She was an IT person before her death. And she helped dozens of people get onto official registers and into a free life as citizens. She was a fighter, through and through. In every part of her life. And she always told us that it was her destiny to die in the war.

We'll see her again in the Green Place.

Finn is still with us. They are an agricultural specialist. They work hard and they fight harder. But they work and they fight freely and with dignity. For a cause they truly believe in. Thanks to them all of our people are fed. All of our people can stay healthy. They can heal. Finn is also a very selfless, brave soldier. They've gotten injured so many times trying to keep others safe. And thankfully, thankfully, they've healed each and every time.

Ryden died. David died. But Rachel is still with us. Aside from being our unofficial leader, though she denies this vehemently, she's also a super soldier. She's a force to be reckoned with.

Ari is a weapons technologist when he's not in battle. It takes such a sharp, complex mind and such a fine hand to be able to manufacture weapons that can take on the government and its militaries. Ari's ex-owner would never dream of him being able to do this.

Besides being a weapons technologist, Ari is also my husband. It gives me such joy to be able to call him this. Him and I got married on my eighteenth birthday. There were some people who told us to wait. Told us that this was too early. But we'd been together for five years at that point. And we'd known each other for eight. More waiting seemed like overkill.

Our wedding was done in the traditional Veritas way in the traditional Veritas religion. Under a half-dome formed by people's joined, raised up hands and with a cutting and joining of our ring fingers to mingle our blood. We looked into each other's eyes and we spoke our vows and it was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

There was singing and dancing and laughter all over the block. A Veritasian priest made a speech about the transformative power of love and how it can heal all wounds and right all wrongs. Ari and I felt the love we had for each other. Felt the love that the community had for us and that we had for them. Felt the love that united all synths and freedom fighters the whole world over. And we danced.

Our wedding night was in the medical supply room. Next to the pile of textbooks I got my education from. It was the perfect place.

We attended other weddings. And they were all such joyful, momentous occasions.

I've also attended victory celebrations for when a major battle was won. They were meant to boost morale and celebrate our sacrifices. But they never had that effect. They were always celebrated when the memories of fallen comrades were fresh in our minds like blood on the pavement. But still, there was dancing. And there was a sense of relief.

And we celebrated victory celebration after victory celebration after victory celebration.

Meanwhile the Veritas religion also grew and developed along with the resistance. People got visions of the afterlife and visits from the dead. We congregated together to decide what our values were and what we stood for. New forces and experiences joined us and fleshed out our worldview.

Just like the old-time communists we based ourselves off of, the central tenants of our worldview are always equality, community, and universal love.

Slowly my faith grew along with our faith. I became more secure. More sure. That the good in this would was more powerful than the bad in it. That we would ultimately win. I became more sure of the afterlife and of miracles and of the overcoming power of love.

And my spirit soared. It hurt and grieved and feared and remembered the past. But it also raged and danced and soared.

And I was exactly who I was meant to be in this world.

A warrior, a husband, a friend, a poet and a healer.

And here I am now. In the back of a transporter. In my light body armour that protects my core. Beside Ari and Davina and Colton and Trissa and Valencia and so many other people. We are on our way to a communications tower controlled by the government. If we can get that tower a large chunk of the government's communications will be cut off. That will be a huge win for us.

The transporter we're all standing in rocks this way and that as it gets hit with enemy fire. It's strong enough to withstand almost anything though, and just keeps going. If only our armour were made of such strong materials.

We all sing a Veritasian prayer as we fly closer and closer to where the battle is already raging. Our voices are low and solemn and beautiful. I make sure to get a good look at my comrades, because this might be the last time I see them.

The determination and the fear are almost tangible.

Finally the transporter wall lifts open and we stream out into the battle occurring within the control rooms of the communication tower. There are people sprawled out all across the floor and around the sky, and laser shots flying in every direction, with deflection walls coming into existence and being cancelled out and misdirectors firing every which way. It's fast-paced and confusing and chaos.

Deadly, beautiful chaos.

Adrenaline sings through me as I activate my shield by pressing my chest controls and and take to the air on my jet pack by lifting my shoulders. Immediately my shield is hit by shield cancelling rays from the enemy side. I duck and weave through enemy lasers as they fly all around me. I throw sheild cancelling rays at enemy shields and shoot at them before they get their shields back up. I try to avoid shield cancelling rays from the other side.

Lasers burst against my shield in small explosions of light. Weapons sing and scream around me. Everything inside me is on high, precise alert. It's exhausting and terrifying and maddening and magnificent. My breath catches in my chest as lasers bounce off the very edges of my shield. Mere millimeters awy from gaining access to my soft, fragile body.

I spin and turn and duck and bend and zip and glide my way through the cavernous light gray.

I see Colton get hit by a laser.

"For Veritas!" He screams with the last edges of his life. My heart thuds in my chest. It's a horrible, ghastly sight. The blood spilling from him bright red against the gray floor.

I see an enemy soldier die too. It soothes my heart. I suppose that's awefully callous of me. But I have no kindness left over for those who have taken so much from me. From us.

We press forwards, getting farther and farther down the large gray halls until the huge metallic feet of the communications tower is within sight. All we have to do is fly up and blast the tower. Once we gain access to it. Which won't be easy at all.

The owners bring in reinforcements, just as our own side did with us. Soldiers dressed in the burning red of the government forces tumble in and take flight. I barely notice their faces. Only their positions and their aims.

But one of the soldiers makes me do a double take. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Straight nose. Is that Arden?! It doesn't matter. I just have to keep pressing forwards.

Suddenly the enemy soldier that looks like Arden does something that surprises all of us. He flies up to the top of the tower and hits it with his ray gun and lasers.

The enemies are flabbergasted, and they still for a moment. Us rebels use this moment to shoot many of them. It's a chance we've never had before. One we may never have again. To kill so very many soldiers.Once their numbers thin out, we fly towards the communications tower.

In this moment they come back to their senses and start shooting at us. But we shoot back. They're outnumbered and outmatched. We keep on gaining ground.

The traitor soldier is shot out of the sky and he falls to the ground. It's only a shoulder wound, thankfully, but those can hurt. But two of our soldiers take his place at the top of the tower.

The battle rages on and my armour gets torn and my ribs get grazed. But eventually, eventually, we take out the tower. We fight our way back to the transporter. And we bring the traitor with us, still bleeding.

We are unable to take Colton's corpse. We will have to hold the funeral without a body. Something that we have to do far too often. Something that Veritas has a ceremony for.

He's in the Green Place now, with the martyrs and yearners.

I do first aid to all the injured soldiers. Pressing bandages onto their wounds. Rubbing poultices onto their cuts. Getting the injured into resting positions. Soothing people's minds.

I get to take a good look at the soldier who betrayed the government as I press healing creams and cotton onto his shoulder, holding them in place with medical tape. He looks strikingly like Arden. Like an adult version of Arden.

But no. That can't be. Arden would never betray the government. Would never fight for the rebels. But still my past rears its ugly head to haunt me. I feel so small in front of him. But I do my job. Because I have to.

Just like when I was a child.

Soon enough all the soldiers are dropped off into their own compounds and the medical rooms of our compounds are full. I go from compound to compound treating the most serious afflictions while nurses work around me.

The traitor soldier is kept in an isolated closet, because people don't fully trust him yet. He's not injured seriously enough to warrant my seeing to him. It would be better if I saw him but he'll survive as he is. Even if he has to fight for it.

He creeps me out too much. So I try my best to ignore him.

Once everyone is in a stable condition, us medical personnel can rest.

So I sleep.

I wake up late in the morning and catch up to Ari who is outside training.

Colton's funeral is about to start. We all go to the meeting hall, hands cupped in front of us. We sit down and all take a turn saying something about Colton and honouring the life he lived. The priest gives a speech on Colton's life, his humanity, and his sacrifice. We raise our hands into the air in a symbolic act of letting go. And we sing a mournful melody.

There is dancing. In every Veritas event there is dancing. I join in. As I always do. Ari doesn't join me this time though. He never dances at funerals.

He does however dance in the victory celebration that happens right after the funeral. Victory celebrations for battles with casualties are always somber, as much as we try to be happy. Everyone only goes through the motions. I don't know why we still have these. It doesn't boost morale.

It's amidst all this fake celebration that I can't take it anymore. I have to go check on the mystery man. So I leave the concrete repurposed driveway and the energetic circle dance and walk up the stairs.

I feel as if I am in some kind of trance. I drift into the newcomer's room and close the door behind me. He looks up from his spot on the floor and I look down on him.

"Why are you still here?" I ask.

"Because I wouldn't tell them my reasons for betraying my side."

"So why did you betray your side?" I sit down next to him. The tension in the room vibrates between us.

"Because I did things in my past that I need to make up for." That's such a fucking vague answer. It doesn't tell me anything.

"What does that mean?" I ask him, slightly irritated.

"Do you promise not to tell the others?"

"I do," I lie.

"First of all, are you the one named Luca?" What kind of question is that?

"I am. Why?"

"I knew it was you! Luca! It's me, Arden!" My heart freezes in my chest.

"What do you want," is all I can say.

"I'm sorry. I was really unfair in the past. And I'm sorry for that. I want to make it up to you."

I don't believe him. But part of me wants to. Part of me wants him to be sorry. But I don't know. I don't know what to do. All I know is that I'm confused and I'm afraid. I need my people to help me through this. I need their strength. I can't face Arden alone.

"I'm going to get some others for backup," I tell him in a blank tone.

"No. You're not." Why does he think he can tell me what to do?

"Yes. I am."

"They'll just interfere with us."

"You abused me. Maybe they should interfere with us."

I turn to leave.

"I wouldn't do that I'd I were you."

I turn back around and Arden is holding a tiny laser gun up to my head. So this is going to be like it always is. Arden trying to control me through the threats and me trying to manipulate my way to safety.

Well let him try. I'm not the broken little boy I was back then. I am a confident adult. I am a husband, a healer, a poet and a soldier. And he doesn't scare me anymore.

Except, the laser pointed at my head does scare me.

"Arden. I'm sorry. I was just feeling worried. And I thought other people would help me feel more strong." I play the part of the damsel in distress as I have done so many other times.

"I can help you feel confident. I can be all you need. Just listen to me. Hear me out."

"Alright. I'll hear your side of the story."

"I am so sorry that I sent you to prison all those years ago. I thought you were being unfaithful. But I didn't even bother to know what truly happened. You were injured. You were on the ground. He could've come up to you and kissed you. Without you telling him to. I didn't bother to find out. I just sent you away."

Is that what he thinks happened? What a self-centred, egotistic idiot. Thinking that even when he has blatant proof otherwise, he is the centre of my universe.

But still. I have to play into it. I have to play him.

"I always felt very betrayed by that," I tell him. "I couldn't stand that you just threw me away. I loved you. I thought you wanted me."

"I did want you. I do want you. I just made a stupid mistake. Will you forgive me?"

I fake cry at hearing that. I force emotion into my voice as tears roll down my cheeks.

"Of course I forgive you. Why wouldn't I? I've wanted to see you for all these years. I've wanted to forgive you for all these years."

"Well we're together now. That's what matters."

"And we'll find a way to get out of this together too." I keep the emotion in my voice. Keep the fake devotion in it. He's still holding the gun. Still aiming it at me. He still holds the power right now. But I have more power than he knows.

"I'm so sorry that you ended up having to go to battles for the resistance. You're a fragile sort of boy. You don't have what it takes to be a soldier. I'm so sorry that the resistance forced you to be a soldier."

I almost laugh at the absurdity of his words. I love my life in the resistance. I love my role in Veritas. I love fighting. But I have to play his game.

"Yes. The resistance kidnapped me. I was so scared as a child. They forced me to join them, and threatened me with death if I didn't. They had all the power. So I couldn't say no. I had to join them. And I've had to fight for them ever since."

Arden doesn't realize that he has all the power right now. He doesn't realize that he's threatening me with death. He doesn't realize that he's held power over me and threatened me during all of our interactions together.

But of course he doesn't realize. He always sees himself as the hero. The results of being a coddled only child, an owner, and a gaming addict.

"You must have felt so abandoned. Don't worry. I'm here now." It's strange that he seems to care so much about my emotions. He never did before. Of course he thinks that my emotions all boil down to sadness that he left me and happiness that he's here. So it's not actually that strange. He still thinks all my emotions revolve around him.

"Why did you betray your side?" I ask him. I have my ideas as to why he did it but I just want to be sure. And I want to buy myself time to think. He still has the gun pointed at me. I'll have to do something about that.

"Because I saw you. And I realized that this was my chance. This was my chance to rescue you and make it up to you for throwing you away."

"You did it to rescue me?" I fake joy in my voice. "Thank you so much. You're amazing. I don't know how I'll ever make it up to you." I wonder if that's overkill. I hope not. But I don't think so.

"Yes, I'm here to rescue you. I'll rescue you now."

He is so full of himself. But I let him keep talking and I pretend to be listening intently.

"You did it for me?" I force fake joy and fake gratitude all over my voice. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Master Arden. How will I ever repay you? I don't think I can ever repay you for rescuing me." I wonder if that was too much. I hope not. But I don't think it was too much. Arden looks pleased with me. Though he still has the gun pointing at me.

"We're together now. That's what matters the most." There is smugness in his voice.

"Will I go back to being your's once we get out of here?" I ask him with fake earnestness.

"Yes. You will. You will be mine and everything will be as it should be."

"Oh thank you so much!" I exclaim. "Thank you for forgiving me for crashing your flyer. You truly are forgiving and amazing."

"Yes. Now all we have to do is get out."

"How will we do that?" I know ways to get him out but obviously I'm not interested at all in getting him out. I would rather die than be his again. I would rather die.

"You tell everyone that you're taking me on a tour of the place. And then we will slip out the door when no-one is looking." It's not the greatest plan but it could work. But I have to make sure that it doesn't work.

"That's a great plan. But for the plan you need to make sure to put the gun down. They won't trust you if they see that you have a gun."

"Yes of course. That's obvious." He hides the gun inside his clothes. That's not as good as actually getting rid of it. But still. It's not in his hands anymore. That I can work with.

"Do you promise that you'll come with me?" Arden asks.

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

So we go together out of the room. We walk down the stairs and out the door. The circle dance is still going on.

"I'm just taking Arden here on a tour of the place," I loudly announce. Everyone turns to look at us. But we keep walking.

"Why did you have to tell them all?" Arden whispers to me, coming up close.

"Because I don't want to look suspicious." I whisper back.

"Stupid," he whispers.

This is my chance. He is so close to me. Everyone is looking at us.

I scream as I ram into him. He shouts in confusion as he's tackled into the ground. He reaches for his gun but I grab both of his wrists so that he can't get it. I am on top of him now.

"He has a gun!" I yell. Arden uses this opportunity to kick his feet out and get me off of him. But I run back to him and ram into him again before he can get up. I am lying on top of him as he struggles to get his gun.

Finally the others come to help me. Two people train their guns right against Arden's head. They kneel down over us. Arden has no choice now. He has to let me go.

"Arden. Let go of my husband." Ari's serious, confident voice rings out between all of us. Arden looks at him. And he does let go.

"What should we do with him?" Rachel asks me.

"Shoot him," I answer. "But not yet. Let me have a few words with him first."

Arden looks up at me with wide, scared, betrayed eyes. I stand over him. And from this angle he looks so small lying sprawled on the ground. For once in our lives I am the one who holds the power.

"I always hated you, Arden," I state. "You were and still are so selfish and self-centred and ignorant and prejudiced. You always loved holding power over me. But you won't hold power over me any longer. I am and always was so much more than you ever thought I could be capable of. And my people will win."

He doesn't say anything.

"You guys can shoot now," I tell my people.

And they do. And the blood flows. And my childhood tormentor is no more.

Many people walk up to me and hug me. Including Ari, my husband who I will never be parted from. I hold on to all of them. And in the midst of all my people, I cry. I cry all the tears that I have ever had to force down and hide. And they let me cry. And they heal me as I've healed them all before. And they make me feel free.

—Epilogue—


The Green Place is so green. It's so free. It's so wild. It's more wild than I ever imagined was possible. And it's beautiful.

The Green Place is a place filled with love. Filled with so much love. Filled with more love than I even know what to do with. It's a place where love rules all. And all I have to do is drown in it.

It's a place where all those who suffered from not having enough love in their lives are filled. Where all the people who suffered are given love, given freedom, given belonging, given joy.

But the living world these days is like that too. It's a place where people come together. Where love rules all. Where the all injustices are righted and all people are taken care of.

I didn't live to see the end of the war. Ari didn't either. I died after he did but we're together again now. Along with Elsa and Colton and all the many comrades who died in the war.

But the war did end. And we won. The whole world was free. Veritas was everywhere. So much so that Veritas wasn't even a place anymore. Now it's just a system of values.

The synths are free. Their descendants are free. There are no owners anymore. Everyone is freeborn.

And everyone is equal.

———

If you like this piece check out my Mastodon my account is FSairuv@mas.to and I post about human rights, social justice, and the environment.

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