Fractured Futures Read online

  I laugh. “Definitely don’t ask me to use crutches. I’m not coordinated enough for that.”

  “I’m not using crutches,” Denver says. “Those definitely weren’t part of the terms of our return.”

  “What terms are those?” Florine asks.

  Denver shakes his head. “Forget it.”

  We’re quiet again. Denver’s words brought us back to why we’re here. The only reason Denver and I rejoined the tour is that it was part of the cease-fire terms. Florine clearly doesn’t know that. She probably doesn’t know there was a battle. She may not even know the Resistance is real. And I’d be willing to wager a large sum of money that she has no clue I’ll be traveling to the Youli home world in a few days. The web of lies woven by Earth Force is so vast, it would be impossible to guess what Florine knows. There could be an entire secondary cover narrative that Denver and I know nothing about.

  I point out the window. Denver leans over me and cranes his neck to see the Eiffel Tower in the distance. “She’s a beauty! Hopefully there’s time to see it up close. I’d also love to get over to the Louvre. Rumor is they’ve brought out one of the few remaining Monets for annual viewing.”

  An image of Monet’s famous water lily paintings pops into my head. We studied them in school. “I didn’t know you were into art.”

  “Art appreciation is for everyone,” Denver says. “Plus, painting was a personal hobby before… well, before.”

  Before he was stranded in the rift for fifteen years, he means. I think of the Paris book that Mom used to read and picture Denver in a funny hat and black-and-white striped shirt. “Can you imagine living here back then? When Paris was Paris, not Eurasia West, and artists roamed the streets of Montmartre? Things were so much simpler then. Peaceful.”

  “You can think that, kid,” Denver says, “but there’s always been conflict. It’s part of the human existence. The French Revolution, the Korean War, World War II, the Catalan War for Independence…”

  “So you’re an artist and a historian?” Florine says with a thick layer of sarcasm.

  “You sound more like an Evolution of Combat expert to me,” I say.

  “I’m neither,” Denver says. “I just like history. You would, too, if you missed a good chunk of your own.”

  We cruise down a large promenade headed to a large circle with a giant arch in the middle. I recognize it from the book as the famous Arc de Triomphe. Once we veer off the main promenade, the motorcade slows down. Up ahead, a large crowd partially blocks the road. As we close in, the sound of cheering swells, and I spot signs with my name: WE’RE BOUND FOR LOVE, JASPER, WILL YOU MARRY ME?, SAVE ME, JASPER! I haven’t seen that last one before. Maybe it’s referring to my “heroic acts” at the Americana East rally. Long live the narrative!

  “They still love you, kid,” Denver says.

  I shake my head. Barely a month ago, I almost lost myself to the pull of worldwide popularity. Now I just want someone to turn down the noise. “Get ready to greet your ten thousand closest friends.”

  “Don’t joke!” Florine says sternly. “They’re here for you. So put on your best smiles and stop taking your celebrity for granted. For shame!”

  I press my hands to my mouth to stop from laughing. I can’t even look at Denver or I know I’ll bust a gut. Take my celebrity for granted? Geez. At this point I wish I’d never had it in the first place.

  Florine takes out a small silver mirror and reapplies bright pink lipstick. Then she puckers her lips and runs her pointer finger across her huge, white teeth.

  Denver takes a deep breath but still has to swallow a laugh before eking out a question. “How did they know we were coming?”

  “It’s all part of the narrative,” Florine says. “You’ve flown here straight from Americana East following your discharge from the medical center.” A cameraman for the Earth Force Affairs Network follows the hover with his lens. Florine rolls down the window, turns her smiling face to the EFAN camera, and waves.

  My laughter is replaced by waves of anger. Forget the narrative. Denver and I may not have been in the Americana East medical center, but others were. There were real people injured in the rally, treated in real medical centers, including my mom.

  “Showtime!” Florine says, reaching for the hover handle.

  “Wait!” I block the door with my hand. “When will I be able to visit my parents?” I insisted that Waters include the visit on the long list of terms in the final cease-fire agreement. Since the Resistance was responsible for my mother’s injury, Waters didn’t give me any pushback. Before I leave the planet, I get to return to Americana East and see my family.

  “I don’t know anything about that,” Florine says. She brushes me out of the way and steps out of the hover.

  That must be another nugget outside of Florine’s clearance. I’ll have to find someone else to ask.

  We’re hurried through the crowds and down a ramp leading to an underground entrance to a historic Parisian hotel that’s been converted into the Earth Force Eurasia West headquarters where we’ll be staying. We cross through the security gates and continue to the lower level.

  The admiral and her honor guard are waiting to greet us. Cole is standing by her side. My stomach does a weird flip. I’m excited to see Cole, but I don’t know what to expect. When we said good-bye at the bounding base, it seemed like things were headed in the right direction. Even Lucy and Addy were getting along. But I know he doesn’t trust me. I turned my back on the Force and fought with the Resistance on Gulaga. Even though I’m neutral now, I can’t escape those facts, not that I’d want to.

  We used to be best friends. Now are we friends at all?

  Admiral Eames greets us then steers Denver to a quiet corner. I head over to Cole.

  He nods but doesn’t make eye contact. “How was your flight?”

  I hate how formal things are between us. “Good. Fine. I didn’t expect you to be here.”

  Cole’s eyes dart around the garage, landing on me for a second, then quickly looking away. “Admiral Eames wanted to be here when you arrived, so Captain Ridders and I joined her. We held a prep meeting for the negotiation sessions and our appearance before the Intragalactic Council.”

  It feels like there’s a mile between us, not just a meter. I wish I knew how to bridge the distance. “How did it go?”

  “Fine.”

  I don’t ask for details about the prep meeting. I doubt he’d tell me if I did. But if I don’t think of something else to say fast, this conversation will be over before it really begins.

  A joke could be common ground. Cole doesn’t always get my humor, but I think this one is pretty obvious. “Was it Lucy’s idea to give Jayne’s old job to Florine Statton?”

  Cole’s eyebrows pinch together as he thinks through my question. I smile. Then he smiles—only for a second, but it’s an unmistakable smile. “No, it was Sheek’s idea, actually.”

  “Really?” That was not the answer I was expecting.

  “I don’t know the specifics, but I’ve heard he owed her a favor.”

  Could it be? I lean forward and whisper, “Is she still blackmailing him about hiding during the Paleo Planet attack? I thought she cashed that in for her In the Flo flop.”

  Cole shrugs, but his smile’s back. “Like I said, I don’t know the specifics.”

  “Did you hear she’s hoping for a show reboot?”

  Before Cole can respond, another officer interrupts and tells Cole he’s needed in a meeting. Cole nods and heads toward the door. Midway there, he turns. “It’s good to see you, Jasper.”

  “Yeah, you, too,” I say with a smile. Maybe there’s a chance I can get my friend back after all.

  With Cole gone, I scan the room. There are tons of Earth Force officers standing around and they all look… awkward? It only takes a second for me to realize why. Admiral Eames is still in the corner with Denver, and she’s clearly upset.

  “Do you have any idea how I felt?” she shouts at him. “Did you even think of me for a second? It was like reliving the Incident all over again!”

  “I had no idea they were going to grab me, Cora!” Denver replies.

  “How do you expect me to believe that? Everything that comes out of your mouth is pro-Resistance!”

  “It’s not.” He shakes his head. “You’re not listening. I’m not pro-Resistance. I’m pro-compromise.”

  She throws her arms in the air. “I suppose the next thing you’re going to tell me is that you support the Youli!”

  Denver sighs. “Cora, times are changing. We need to think about what’s best for Earth.”

  “The Youli kidnapped you, Denver! They kept you prisoner in the rift for fifteen years!”

  “That’s not what happened—”

  She holds up her palm. “I’ve heard enough. There is nothing you could say that will ever change my mind about the Youli after what they did to you, after what they did to us.” With that, she marches out of the room. The officers exchange questioning glances, then rush to follow her. Soon, Denver and I are the only ones left.

  I’m not sure what to do. I’ve never seen the admiral out of control like that. I take a couple of steps toward Denver. When he looks up, his eyes glisten with unshed tears.

  He shakes his head. “I’m fine, kid. I just need some space.”

  3

  I MAKE IT TO MY room with a few hours to relax before the rally. Given her comeback to Earth Force PR, I figured Florine’s voice-over days were over. Nope. The hotel command system features the unnaturally friendly voice of the former face of Earth Force, Florine Statton.

  I tell her to shut up (a huge benefit of virtual Florine over IRL Florine). Then I fling myself onto the bed, hoping for a quick snooze before the rally. I crawl under the covers and lay my head against the soft, cool pillow. With my eyes closed, I let my thoughts drift. A picture of Mira fills my mind. We’re at the bounding base. Her hand is pressed against my chest.

  Just as I start to doze, there’s a loud knock at my door.

  “Hey, Florine! Make them go away!”

  Florine doesn’t answer, and whoever’s at the door keeps right on knocking. What’s the benefit of having a hotel voice system if Florine won’t even do what I tell her to?

  I stumble out of bed and grumble my way to the door. “I’m coming!”

  As soon as I pull back the handle, Nev and Dev pour in like a rainbow slushie, sweet and colorful. One of them grabs my cheeks while the other circles me, looking me up and down from every angle.

  Please not now. Why can’t I just lie down for thirty minutes?

  “Oh, my poor, sweet golden boy!” one of them coos.

  “Are you okay, dear Jasper?” the other says while stroking my hair. “We were so worried!”

  They must have been fed the line about me being injured at the rally. The narrative is alive, well, and well spread.

  “I’m okay.” I gently push them out of my personal space and retreat farther into my room. “What are you doing here?”

  “Dev and I were worried we wouldn’t have time before the rally to transform you into your true, golden self,” Nev says.

  “For all we knew, you had visible wounds and horrible scars. We couldn’t let you be seen like that on the webs, now, could we?”

  “Really, I’m fine.” Although I’d be a lot finer with a nap.

  “We can see right through you, Jasper Adams,” Dev says. “And what I’m seeing right now is someone quite peakish.”

  Peakish?

  The twins look at one another and then say in perfect unison, “Time to work our magic!”

  Ugh. Way too perky! Although maybe there’s a bright side to this. “Fine, but hook me up with some of those lavender eye pads so I can sleep.”

  By the time they wake me up, it’s nearly time for the rally. Once I change my clothes, I’m in full golden-boy mode, or at least I look the part. It feels weird to be wearing the Earth Force uniform again. Denver and I traded our uniforms for civilian clothes on Gulaga—not the colorful tunics that the Tunnelers and even Addy and Marco now wear, but old pants and sweatshirts that some of the officers donated to the cause of making sure we didn’t look like the enemy.

  Dev and Nev hurry me down to the motorcade. Most of the hovers are already loaded, so the crew waves us into Sheek’s hover. When Nev, Dev, and I climb in, Sheek glares at us. A team of four stylists work on getting his hair teased up into his signature bouffant while we cruise the streets lined with screaming fans. Sandwiched between Dev and Nev, I nearly pass out from the fumes of their competing colognes.

  Fortunately, the ride is quick, just over the Seine to the Champs de Mars, right in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. I barely catch a glimpse of the tower through the window before we’re shuttled into an underground garage and ushered to the prep area.

  “Hey, Jasper,” a voice sounds behind me as I walk into the green room. I spin around to find Bai Liu looking down at me. “You’ve had quite a time of it, huh?”

  I’m not sure what to say. Is this toe-the-party-line time?

  She winks and whispers, “Don’t worry. Denver filled me in. There are no secrets between us.”

  I smile. “Okay. It’s hard to keep track of all the narratives.”

  She laughs and slaps me between the shoulder blades, almost knocking me to the ground. “Good one! Who can? Don’t worry, I’ve got your back. I’m so ready to be done with all this homecoming crap. I don’t know what’s next for me, but a Bai reinvention is about fourteen years overdue, and I don’t think it’s going to include the Earth Force insignia. You with me?”

  Before I can answer, Denver joins us. He has a plate with pizza stacked four slices high. “I’d offer to share, but I’ve been subsisting off fungi for the last week.”

  I ask him where I can find the food, and he points me to a side room. I immediately head in that direction. Denver may have been eating only fungi, but I’ve basically been on a hunger strike since leaving for Gulaga. I pile my plate with pizza and brownies.

  As I’m about to head back to the greenroom, a familiar shriek makes me jump.

  Lucy flies in, closing the door behind her. “There you are!” She races over and wraps me up in an enormous hug.

  That must mean she doesn’t hate me. “Hey, Lucy.” The hug goes on for so long, my arms start to hurt. “How are you?” I ask when she finally steps back.

  Lucy flashes her new signature style smile and flutters her unnaturally long lashes. “Excellent.” Then she leans close. “But don’t think for a second you’re off my bad-guy list.”

  She waltzes over to a deep purple couch against the wall and flings herself down. “Can you believe we’re in Paris? I’ve dreamed of this day my whole life.”

  I’m pretty sure that’s what she said before the rally in Americana West. Apparently, Lucy’s had many days she’s dreamed of her whole life. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. The rally is right in front of the Eiffel Tower.”

  “Le Tour d’Eiffel? C’est magnifique, non?”

  “Ummm…?”

  “Just say oui and imagine you’re strolling through the streets of Paris long ago—the clothes, the culture, the elegance. And soon you’ll appear on a Parisian stage as one of the planet’s biggest stars.”

  “Speaking of that, shouldn’t you be getting ready? I figured you were coming in here to hurry me up.”

  “I have a few minutes.” She crosses her legs and examines her nails, painted the same pink color as Florine’s. “So, how is everybody?”

  That’s an odd question. It’s not like Lucy to be vague. Usually her problem is talking too much. I shrug. “Who exactly?”

  Now she shrugs. It’s not really a shrug, more like a slight tip of the head and raising of her shoulders. It’s probably Lucy’s signature shrug. “You know, Marco, Addy—”

  “Wow. I never thought I’d hear you ask about my sister.”

  “Okay, fine. Don’t tell me.”

  “It’s not that, Lucy. It’s—”

  She leaps off the couch and throws her arms in the air. “Oh, Jasper! At least tell me Neeka’s okay! I forgot to ask about her when I saw you at the bounding base, and I’ve felt so guilty that Neeka wasn’t the absolute first thing on my mind. Cole said the battle was vicious and that lots of Tunneler ships were blown to bits. I can’t stop picturing sweet, furry Neeka. Dead. Gone. Wasting away to nothing on the cold, dark tundra.”

  Chatty Lucy is back with drama to spare. Thank goodness. “Neeka’s fine.”

  She collapses on the couch, splaying her arm across her forehead. “Oh, thank God!”

  “It’s not like there weren’t casualties, Lucy. Tunnelers died that day. A Bounder died.”

  Lucy drops her arm and raises her eyebrow. “Former Bounder, although you’d never know it with how you acted at the aeroport earlier.”

  “You heard about that?” I forgot how fast gossip travels around here. I should have guessed she’d know about my interaction with Regis’s parents.

  “Please, Jasper. Everyone’s heard about it.”

  “Regis was still a Bounder, Lucy,” I say, biting into a hot slice of gooey pizza, then putting a hand in front of my mouth to keep talking. “He just wasn’t an Earth Force officer. The same can be said of Marco, Addy, all the other Bounders who stand with the Resistance.”

  “Are you defending Regis?” Lucy laughs. “That’s something I never thought I’d hear.”

  “I fought alongside him on Gulaga.”

  “I thought you were neutral in all of this.”

  “I am. But when my friends are threatened, I fight, no matter what side I’m fighting on.”

  “Here’s the problem with that, Jasper. You have friends on both sides.”

  “Both sides?” I ask, sitting next to her on the couch. “That implies there are only two. Try all sides. I have friends in the Force and in the Resistance. I have friends who are Tunnelers.” I cast my eyes to the floor. “I have a friend among the Youli.”