I, Cassandra

30 | RYAN MADDOX

I lift my fist to knock on Blue's door, hesitating, holding back, despite knowing de Pommier's avatar is waiting in the dining room, a cup of coffee in front of her. Blue has only had one day to recover. It's not enough. Exhaustion seeps from her, even when she's sleeping. She needs rest, not this. Not whatever de Pommier has planned, which I sense from the general's tense demeanour isn't going to be nice. But what can I do to stop the wheels of Global Command? I'm vitally aware of my vulnerability, of what can be done to me. Akron was clear enough how easy it would be to remove my free will, and de Pommier made sure I understood she can shut me down with a single command.

I let out a heavy breath, and rap the door, light.

'Come in,' Blue answers, her voice muffled through the thick wood of the door.

I find her sitting on the bed, staring at a dark wall screen, no longer offering a vista from another world. She's still dressed in Henrik's old pyjamas, her thin frame lost in its billows of excess cotton. I endure a primal urge to gather her in my arms, to shelter her from herself.

She tilts her head at the screen. 'So it wasn't real, after all.'

'It was, once. A long time ago. Before us.'

She presses down the folds of material bunched over her legs. Disappointment bleeds from her. 'I knew it was too good to be true.'

I take a step back and glance at the open door. 'I need you to come with me,' I say, fighting to keep my expression neutral, to hide my misgivings, worrying I'm leading her out of the frying pan into the fire. 'There is someone here to see you.'

Blue quirks an eyebrow, unimpressed. 'Let me guess. My new jailor?'

'You aren't a prisoner. You are being protected,' I say, and mean it, thinking of the half-dozen Elites added to the floor's security since her arrival. Blue looks up at me, dubious.

'She's the one who sent me to get you,' I say, pushing aside the memory of the berating I received for having disobeyed the general's orders; my future fate outlined in unequivocal, brutal detail: Do that again and I'll wipe your memory.

'Your rescue cost over a million dollars,' I offer when Blue remains silent.

'Hm,' Blue says, noncommittal. She gets to her feet, slow, swaying a little. I cross the distance between us, reaching out to catch her elbow. She pulls back, defensive. 'I would be flattered if it were me you went to all this effort for,' she says, tight, 'but you didn't, did you?'

I back up, giving her space. Her bitterness slams into me. Cold, hard waves.

She points to her head. 'You want what's in here,' she whispers, though her words are sharp, scathing. 'I just happen to be stuck with it.'

'Not me,' I say, low, as she slips past, careful not to touch me even though I am taking up most of the space.

'Maybe,' she says, her back to me, 'but what can you do? What can any of us do? They have all the power. We are things to them, tools. Nothing more.' She leaves me to stew in my futility. I smother a curse and catch up to her as she approaches the dining table, her eyes on de Pommier's avatar—ignoring the spectacular view of a Nordic coastline, overshadowed by storm clouds hulking over a roiling, black sea.

'Cassandra Vallis,' the general's avatar says, gesturing for Blue to take a seat. She glances up at me and tilts her head for me to fall back to the kitchen's island. In front of it, I stand at ease, and feign disinterest—but I'm listening, using every aural enhancement they have granted me.

de Pommier's avatar takes a sip of coffee. She sets it down with a quiet thump.

'I owe you an apology,' she begins, quiet. 'Long overdue.'

Blue says nothing. She sits, rigid, in her chair, her hands in her lap, twisting her fingers together, her trepidation hidden from de Pommier's eyes, but not mine.

'I am the avatar of General de Pommier.' The general smiles and gestures to herself. 'Impressive, no? I wish I looked like this, but I do not.' Blue doesn't move. Distrust radiates from her, dense, palpable.

'You are in Alpha VII,' the avatar continues, brisk, discarding the friendly tack, 'in a secure location, protected by a team I trust with my life. I am . . . elsewhere. When you were a child,' the avatar says, soft, her French accent deepening, tainted with regret, 'I was not able to stop what was done to you. I tried. I fought every way I could, even to the temporary detriment of my career.'

Blue's fingers still.

'The man who ordered your 'tests' was and still is our Prime Minister.' The avatar takes a sip of coffee. Her dark eyes go straight to Blue's, direct, forthright. 'He does not know you are here. I have put my life on the line resuscitating Genesis I.' She turns the cup and trails her fingers over its handle. 'It is treason. But we are out of time, and he is doing nothing, except gathering his favourites around him, and furnishing an expensive hole for them to hide in while the rest of us must face our annihilation.' She scoffs. 'It is 2030 all over again, no?'

'What is?' Blue asks into the silence.

'Ah,' de Pommier's avatar says, 'of course. You were taken away at nine, well before the lessons regarding our history.' She picks up her coffee and goes to the wall screen, gazing at the snow squalls buffeting the towering pines. 'The restriction zone was meant to be a second chance for humanity, paid for by those who had devastated the planet for profit. But it seems we are a determined species, driven by our basest desires: Greed. Power. Selfishness.' She sips her coffee again. A quiet smile fleets across her lips, softening her profile. 'And then you came along, with your gift—a gift powerful men exploited and used for their own purposes, and at a terrible cost to you.'

Blue's hands leave her lap and slide up to the edge of the table. She clings to it, her knuckles white, as though she might float away if she lets go. 'You aren't going to hurt me,' she whispers, incredulous.

de Pommier's avatar cuts a look at Blue. 'The last thing I want to do is hurt you,' she retorts, dry. 'If the human race is going to survive, it needs you alive and well. Genesis I was started once we realised what you could do. It exists because of you.'