CHAPTER EIGHTEEN #2
‘I don’t think you understand what this morning was like for me,’ Nova began.
‘That was a slick operation Dominion pulled off. Your grandfather has a journalist in his pocket, Cas. His vice president of communications knew exactly what to say to make me believe any part of that was my choice. It wasn’t.
She knew everything about my family, my schedule, my …
my struggles. Dominion controlled everything.
And not just the narrative. They controlled me.
All to protect themselves. To protect you. ’
‘I-I know, but –’ I shut my mouth. She was right.
I didn’t know what it felt like for her.
And I believed her when she said Della controlled the story.
It was Della’s job to keep Dominion in a positive light.
‘What they did this morning was wrong. This is all my fault. I was the one who asked Grandfather to do everything in his power to find me a match. I didn’t know what it would mean at the time.
I didn’t know I’d be paired with you. This story will fade, though.
I can do my own interview to fix this. I can tell the truth about what Dominion did for me. It never had to be this big thing.’
Leo laughed. ‘What truth could you possibly tell? Your family still has the power to take your phone away and put you in time-out when they want you to stay quiet.’
Nova rolled her eyes. ‘The point is, you can’t stop Dominion, Cas.
They aren’t going to let you say anything.
Your family won’t let you smear their name.
They could’ve told the truth. You almost drowned because of your disease.
You almost died. Yvonne Meadows could’ve turned that into a three-part series for her five o’clock slot.
Instead, they used me to make them look good. ’
‘It’s almost like Dominion doesn’t want any attention right now,’ Mr Williams said lightly. ‘Like they don’t want anyone to look too closely at the rule they broke.’
I tilted my head at his remark. We’d circled back to the conspiracy theories comment. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, have you asked yourself why the Freedom System prohibits Pain Carriers and Pain Givers from communicating? What would be the harm in them finding community in one another?’
I paused, unable to come up with a response. I’d asked the same question.
‘I don’t think he knows, Dad,’ said Leo.
Nova shifted in her seat.
I stood there, confused as hell. What weren’t Leo and Mr Williams saying?
Someone knocked at the door. ‘Nova Williams? This is ABTV. We were hoping you might answer a few questions.’
Mr Williams walked over to the coat closet in the hall, threw me an old jacket and baseball cap, and tossed an oversized hoodie to Nova. ‘Use the back door. Nova, you too.’ He nodded to Leo. ‘Show them.’
‘Show us what?’ I asked.
‘It’s time for you to see what people are saying about your kinfolk,’ said Leo.
The three of us stood in the back of a town hall for the Legacy Party.
I’d never been this far down Lucille B. Anarcha Boulevard.
They still used the old electric grid, the buildings and houses hooked up to crooked powerlines.
Filling the basement of an old church turned food pantry, Black and Brown faces surrounded me.
The crowd made me uneasy and comfortable at the same time.
I’d grown somewhat used to being the darkest person in a room.
Growing up, I only had Pua at school. I used to hate standing out, not having many people who looked like me to connect with.
Now I just bottled it away. As much as I didn’t belong here, it still felt like a community I could’ve been part of in a different life.
I enjoyed watching the way everyone moved around each other with familiarity.
An older couple – Charlie and Rox from the ‘Polaris Blues’ video Nova sent me weeks back – nodded to us as we moved to a seat in the last row.
Nova made a point of sitting on the other side of her brother, and my heart twisted.
Leo pulled my cap down lower and tightened my hood while Nova lifted hers.
‘Just listen,’ he said. ‘Don’t let anyone see you. And no eye contact. Nobody has that rich-folk oculsight down here.’ He shoved an old pair of tinted flare shades into my grip. I slid them on reluctantly, still not fully understanding what was about to happen.
‘Why do we always have the highest pain thresholds?’ someone shouted. ‘It’s always us, and because of the world they created, we’re desperate enough to let them use us.’
Others mumbled in agreement. I didn’t need to ask who was us and who they were.
There were no Pain Carriers in Crestview or Westlake, only a few in the MidCity neighborhood.
I’d had the same question while researching hydromorphone addiction rates.
The highest concentrations were always in the same cities where Dominion had an increased Pain Carrier participation.
But I couldn’t find anything to connect the two.
Every time I asked the solisAI to go deeper, I got the same answers spat back by Centaurus: request not found, information irrelevant, no statistical basis.
A man held up his left arm, the scar from his Pain Carrier chip insertion still raised. ‘What if we want to change our minds?’
I frowned, knowing I was missing something. Even sitting here, listening to the people of South Alta speak, I didn’t understand. The pain didn’t hurt them. It wasn’t an inconvenience. Not a single Freedom System lab had a complaint or a low rating.
I glanced over to Nova, but she ignored me, hugging herself tightly.
A young Black man listened at the front, nodding.
I recognized Brenson Moorehouse, his wide frame and long locs tied back.
The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up, a lightning bolt tattoo on his inner forearm against a blacked-out sun.
‘I’ve reached out to Dominion’s offices with no luck, I’ll admit.
It’s why I’m running for mayor. We need them to hear us.
To listen to us and our stories. Whoever takes the mayor’s seat this fall needs to represent all of Alta Bay, not just the communities shielded under the glassways. ’
‘My husband went missing months ago, right after becoming a Pain Carrier,’ said an older woman down the row from us.
She pulled her shawl around her shoulders.
‘I know Dominion had something to do with it. The payments stopped the day he disappeared, as though they know he’s not coming back.
No one will help me. No one is looking for him.
Johnny’s son, Fred – he’s a rookie officer at the South Alta precinct.
He tried to open a case, but his captain shut it down. ’
‘The same captain who’s golf buddies with the mayor,’ someone else added, and murmurs bubbled up around the room.
I scrunched my brows together. ‘I’m not sure how that’s relevant.’ I leaned over Leo toward Nova. I needed her to hear me. ‘Anything could’ve happened to that woman’s husband. Is she insinuating Dominion murdered him? That doesn’t sound a little ridiculous?’
Leo shushed me, but it was too late.
The person in front of us turned round, sneering when he saw me.
‘The little Fox from the interviews. Did you really think you could hide under a hood when your face is plastered across every news cycle? Did you come here to report back to your family?’ Standing, he yanked his chair aside, slowly approaching me. A few gasps rippled through the room.
‘Here’s something to share.’ He flashed the Pain Carrier scar on his wrist. ‘We know Dominion thrives by keeping us in our place – poor, in pain, and reliant on the chance we might get into your granddaddy’s Freedom System and trade our bodies for a monthly paycheck.
’ He pointed in the direction of uptown.
‘They make us beholden to them and powerless, just like you want us to be. We won’t stand for it much longer.
And all of that so you can play in the water, rich boy? ’
I balked. ‘I don’t want that; my family doesn’t want that.
The Freedom System isn’t hurting anyone.
You can’t feel it.’ My voice cracked. The man was close enough now that I could feel the heat coming off him.
‘My mother’s research is undeniable. She’s the premier scientist for solradiance technology.
She wouldn’t allow the Freedom System to continue if people were suffering. Neither would my grandfather.’
They didn’t know where Grandfather came from, what he stood for. He’d admitted he was from South Alta too. He wouldn’t abandon his community. His eyes forward motto wasn’t just for us Foxes – it was for everyone.
The man laughed, his gaze shifting to Nova. ‘Your Pain Carrier has been lying to you, I see.’ Others mumbled in agreement, the entire room now watching us.
Nova hooked her arm through mine. ‘Let’s go,’ she whispered.
‘Why do you think your grandfather has us sign so many NDAs? Why do you think protestors are in the streets, risking being silenced? Why do you think we’re huddled away in this basement?’
The crowd cheered on the man and his questions. My pulse raced, blood thudding in my ears. The scrape of chairs being pushed back echoed as more people got to their feet.
Leo stood and held back the crowd. ‘That’s enough. He’s leaving.’ He motioned for me to stand, but my knees buckled, the weight of the room’s stares catching me off guard. I stumbled, falling flat on my ass. Heat flashed up my neck.
Nova knelt beside me. ‘Are you OK?’
With no time to process the shock, I pulled her behind me as the man closed the gap.
‘I can’t believe you know your Pain Giver and are so calm about it,’ he said to her. He cracked his knuckles. ‘If I knew mine …’ His voice trailed off as others around him grew louder, anger etched into their scowls.
My heart pounded in my ears. What was he saying? What did he mean by that?
I don’t think he knows, Leo had said. Then Mr Williams had him bring us here.
I pressed back, too shaken to stand.