Chapter 15 #2
“Wait, I won’t say—” the man begins.
The boy grabs him by the collar, silencing him, and drags him outside, the door sealing shut behind them.
The woman sits on the seat the technician left behind. His kit is there just lying open, and the metal synthesizer taunts me with my results.
“What can you do?” she asks.
“I’m not telling you anything,” I say, glaring at her. “I told you I didn’t want to be tested.”
“I had to know if you were one of us.”
I scoff.
“Well, I’m not. You’re not nice. Not a single bit.”
She lifts her hand and removes her mask. I recognize her face. It is the same one that was shown to us on the projector.
Prue Miller.
Her face is fine-boned, with a quiet severity. Her silver hair falls to her shoulders in a practical cut. Her eyes are a pale, washed-out gray, almost colorless.
“My name is Prue,” she says. Her eyes soften. “You look just like your mother.”
My throat tightens.
“You knew her?” I ask.
She pauses, like she’s deciding just how much to tell me. It seems we both don’t trust each other.
“Before your mother, we feared the Bind because we didn’t understand it,” Prue begins slowly. “But when she fled the research facility at Arrow Hill, she left with proof that everything was a lie.”
My pulse thunders in my ears. I sit as still as a mouse in fear that she’ll stop talking.
“The first generation of Binds only suppressed power. But your mother realized the system was adaptive. Every bind is capable of transmitting large amounts of data back to a central network, like neural patterns, emotional spikes, and psychological responses. The researchers watch how fear enhances obedience, how pain dulls resistance, and how love weakens people.”
My hands curl into fists. I have a suspicion about where she’s going with this. And I don’t like it one bit.
“They plan to update the Bind remotely. Small changes at first. Increased compliance and dampened empathy in strategic operatives.” Her eyes flick to me.
“The Commons are not a threat to them. So, they need to control the Gifted. Those who have the power to topple the regime. It is why they are going to include a kill switch to it.”
I feel sick.
My voice comes out hoarse.
“You’re saying they are planning to mess with people’s emotions, with their minds.”
Prue nods.
I think of Ender. His cold, brutal eyes, and how there is nothing remotely soft about him.
“And the kill switch?” I ask.
Her jaw tightens.
“It’s a deterrent. A reminder. If a Gifted grows too powerful, too dangerous, they are taken out,” she says. “That’s why they give senior officials these.” She digs into her pocket and shows me the remote she used on Knox. “To nullify their powers if needed.”
My throat closes. This is worse than I could have imagined. I see why my mother hid my powers, why she protected me from the Bind.
“She tried to expose it,” Prue says. “That’s why they sent the High General to execute her and retrieve the stolen files. At first, she was going to sit on it, but one day she changed her mind and approached us. Now I know why.”
Prue’s eyes soften. “It must have been right after she learned about your powers. You gave her the courage to speak the truth.”
I flinch at the horrid memory. I can see it vividly. Warrick on that stage, and my mother helplessly looking out into the crowd, her gaze seeking Mercy, and I like we were her anchors while she floated in turbulent waters.
It is all my fault; she would have never reached out to the Resistance if it were not for me. Mercy blamed her for risking everything and leaving us behind, but little did my sister know that our mother wanted to make the world a safer place for the Untamed, because her daughter was one.
Guilt chokes me, wrapping its icy fingers around my throat, and tears sting my eyes.
“They’re close now,” Prue adds. “Closer than ever. The next iteration will allow them to trigger emotional states on command.”
A chill crawls down my spine.
“An army that forcibly serves,” I whisper. “An army that never steps out of line.”
Her eyes bore into mine, fierce and unyielding.
“That’s why your mother mattered,” she says. “This is the future she wanted to change.”
A tear falls from my eyes.
“She wasn’t a Gifted?” I ask. “Are you certain?”
Because it would make things a little better if her sacrifice wasn’t just for me. My insides are raw and bleeding. I fear I will shatter if the slightest gust of wind hits me.
Her voice is gentle when she next speaks.
“No, she just cared deeply. She had to tell the people the truth to protect the Gifted and the Untamed, to protect you,” she says. “I see the resemblance. You are courageous and bold, just like her. She would have been proud of you.”
A tear rolls down my cheek, and I wipe it away furiously.
I know Prue didn’t intend for it to land so harshly, but I can’t help but feel responsible for her death.
If my powers didn’t reveal themselves, my mother would never have reached out to the rebels; she would have never gotten the attention of the High General. She would have been alive.
“I’m not half as brave as her,” I say. “Also, my power isn’t that impressive. I can stop time.”
“A Timebender,” she says. Her eyes widen with interest. “That is a powerful gift.”
“I suppose,” I say. “I was never trained in it. So, I’m not sure about the full scope of my abilities.”
“A Timebender is rare,” Prue says. “Time is a complex matter. You don’t control it, but you do converse with it. You step into its currents, feel its rhythms, and alter its course.”
I frown. “Alter? Like, I can change the past?”
I sit upright. Maybe if I can save my mother, everything will be fine. The pain will disappear. And I will finally feel whole.
She shakes her head slowly, and pity dances across her eyes.
“Not exactly. The past is fixed. But you can travel back to learn from it.”
I swallow. “And the future?”
Her lips curl into a shadow of a smile.
“The future is not fixed either. But I do not recommend looking for it. Time is complicated, and you are just a beginner.”
“So, I can do more than stop time?” I ask. “I can alter the future but not the past?”
“I reckon,” Prue says. “Your powers are listed as illegal on the Registry. In their eyes, you are an Untamed. There must be something about it that they fear. They study the ones who are listed as Untamed in their facilities. They learn the intricacies of their power before they list it as destructive.”
“What is your gift?” I ask curiously.
“I’m a Shield.”
Just like Kaia. Powers don’t work on a Shield.
“But you were frozen,” I say, frowning in confusion. “When I stopped time.”
Prue’s mouth tilts in a smile, and she winks.
“I pretended.”