Linked

Epilogue : Every day

Mrs. Plum bustles around, re-hanging my rejected outfits, asking if I'm hungry. Her grey curls bounce against her neck as she moves. Ever since we returned and I explained what had happened, she's been in full-on mothering mode.

"You didn't eat much at breakfast, dear."

I attempt a casual smile, watching her slide a coat hanger through the asymmetrical neckline of a sleek, berry-purple dress. I was too nervous to eat.

Drifting over to my bedroom window, I duck past the low-hanging branches of the wind chime. Outside, hundreds of people mill around a low stage set up beside the kidney-shaped lake. The lake sparkles as though the warm spring sun has coated it with crystals. Fringing the stage is a row of cameras. The accompanying media representatives are already saving their spaces, directly behind the blinking lights of technical machinery. 

My heart races. This is even more terrifying than the day I was sworn in as successor. That was broadcast to the entire nation, as I have ordered these announcements to be... it's an awful lot of people looking at me.

"Benna," Mrs. Plum says, coming to my side, following my gaze. "You are making a difference. Remember that." She places a liver-spotted hand on my shoulder. "Now, eat something. I'll get you some toast."

She leaves me staring at the swarming crowd several stories below. I'm enjoying the moment of solitude - I've been so fussed over, lately - when Cee ruins it by charging in without so much as a knock. He barely looks up from his notepad as he addresses me.

"Madam President. Your cue cards. I thought you might want one last run-through. I really must insist you use your notepad, though - much more convenient."

I shake my head. "Hand-written is fine. If it will do for everyone else, it will do for me."

He passes me the small, rectangular cards, striped with neat lines of writing. "As long as you don't dispose of your notepad entirely. We do need to be able to reach you." His eyes narrow beneath bushy eyebrows. Ah, there's the Cee I know and love. "Did you accept this afternoon's appointment?"

It takes all my energy not to roll my eyes. I've been told it's a bad look for a president. "Yes, Cee. Meeting with my advisors to discuss putting these plans into action. I'll be there."

"On time?"

"Yes, Cee, on time." Seriously, I was late for one meeting and this is what I get. "Can you move my father outside? I'd like him to be nearby. To witness what I'm doing."

"Certainly, madam." Cee turns and leaves the room. Giving him a task always gets rid of him. There has been a lot to learn, but that is definitely one of the handiest little tricks.

I settle on the edge of my bed with the cards cupped in my hands and run my gaze over them. They are my own words. I just have to be brave enough to say them, and prove that I am right and my father was wrong.

Mumbling the introduction under my breath, my stomach starts to churn as I picture the waiting faces angled towards me. I'm taking a gamble. Jesse reckons people will adjust to the changes happily, but there's no real way of knowing until it's done. I skim down to the announcements - the point of this entire media circus.

I value honesty. Societies built with lies and fear will, eventually, crumble. Ours will not. And to prove this, I want to share something with you. I was a Mindlinker. At this point, I'm anticipating shocked gasps. I am not anymore. Here, I expect confusion. I'm also planning to tell everyone about the fact that Linkers felt the need to hide in a refuge, because they weren't accepted for who they are.

You have been lied to. Linkers are not dangerous. They pose no threat to our society. Information will shortly be released to all citizens, in full, about the research of Dr. Garnet Frenchwood. But I believe that Mindlinking is an incredible thing - a personal connection beyond our wildest dreams. Something that should be cherished and supported. Allowed to grow and develop. Who knows where we could lead humanity? During my time at the refuge, I met a man named Glyn. He taught many Linkers that they were capable of more than they thought possible. Despite my intentions of honesty, I'm going to tactfully omit my opinion of his personality. With Glyn's expertise, a programme is being developed for classes Linkers may attend, to learn how to advance and extend their skills. These classes will be optional. You have a choice whether to attend, as all citizens - Linkers or not - have their strict schedules phased out.

As your president, I believe in the importance of choice. And that begins with revoking the schedules, allowing travel between cities, and even the choice not to be a Linker. A cure will be made available to consenting pairs of Linkers who no longer wish to be Linked. Zeth agreed to lead the team archiving Frenchwood's research and take on the project of helping unhappy Linkers. He said, very formally, how privileged he felt that I entrusted the task to him. I know he's actually relieved not to be stuck suturing injuries anymore.

The door slides open yet again. I glance up from my cards to see Mrs. Plum, a plate of buttery toast in hand. "Ten minutes to go," she says in a bouncy tone. "Put that toast in your belly and lets do a final appearance check."

I trudge across to the mirror balanced atop my dresser. I know better than to argue. A stylist fixed my hair for today's occasion - she's woven the length of it into braids pinned almost like a crown around my head. The up-do makes me look mature and professional. Also, it's white-blonde. The way it used to be, before running away and meeting Corin and hiding at the refuge and losing mom.

"You look beautiful," Mrs. Plum croons. "So elegant, Benna."

It's something mom would have said. Now I'm blinking at the speed of light, before I ruin my makeup. I try not to think about mom too much. Her death still seems like such a waste. But I think about Corin every day, even though it hurts with a physical ache to do so.

Saying goodbye was horrible. He came with us to the copter waiting on the rooftop. It was dark and windy. I wouldn't let him follow me home.

"Stay in Lovethorn with your family," I said. "Look after your mom. She's alive, don't leave her this time."

He flinched, rain spitting in his face. Maybe it was cruel, I don't know. But I lost mine and I didn't want him to regret losing his all over again. And Umi needed him, needed some normality after spending a year having Frenchwood torture her with test cures.

"She has my dad." Corin protested. "He'll look after her. I can visit them. We're meant to be together, Benna."

I reached up, wiping the icy water from his cheeks. The wind whipped my hair around us. It gave the illusion of privacy. Before I could argue, he pulled me close, kissing me deeply as the rain splashed onto our faces.

I pushed him away.

"I need to prove that our connection wasn't just because of Frenchwood's Link," I said. "It has to come from us. I'll practise every day -"

"You're seriously leaving me behind?"

"I can't be with you unless I know it's real. Unless it's our own doing, not tainted by Frenchwood."

"Then I'll practise, too." Corin said, reaching for me. I sidestepped, walking backwards to the waiting copter. Drawing things out would only prolong the pain. Cee was already inside with Jesse and what was left of my father. I was keenly aware they were watching everything.

"Every day." I said, biting my lip, holding back tears, clambering into the vehicle.

"Every day." Corin replied, though he was so quiet I had to lip-read. He raised his hand in farewell as we lifted off, his lips turned down. Then he disappeared into the darkness.

So. Every day I try and re-establish our Link. I didn't give him a notepad, we have no other way of communicating. That would be cheating. It would feel false, shallow. In the evenings, I lie back on my bed and watch the wind chime spinning. I picture his smile, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his fingers around mine. His stupid sense of humor.

"Benna?" Cee pops his head around the doorframe. "Time to go. Are you ready?"

I inhale such a breath it feels as if my lungs might burst. "I guess so. Let's do this. Let's change the rules." I break into a grin as I exhale, letting loose a nervous giggle. Every day, I think to myself.

Maybe we'll live happily ever after, maybe we won't. But for now, Corin will be in Lovethorn, and I'll be here, waiting... for that first, tentative, Hello?

THE END