Chapter 29: Chapter 29

The evening unfolds in a whirlwind of unfamiliarity and confusion. The food is the first mystery. I can identify some of it—the fruits and vegetables—but there’s more: bread, cakes, and meat.

Kazuya explains that the meat comes from animals, beings that share the Earth with humans but aren’t human. I give him a blank look until he starts sketching them for me.

They also serve alcohol, something they call wine. It’s not like the potent stuff we had back at the establishment. It has a tart taste, but the more I sip, the more I crave. It seeps into my system, and my head starts to spin.

Once the food is all gone, people start to rise and mingle. Many of the Japanese soldiers gravitate towards the tables of young women. The children are ushered away, and many young couples depart as well.

The mayor leaves to chat with his family, and a woman takes his vacated seat. She’s older than most of the people at our table and even in the cave. I’d guess she’s in her forties, like some of my teachers. That’s rare.

She has a persistent cough, which I learn she’s had her whole life. But the cough doesn’t make her seem frail. If anything, it makes her seem stronger for having endured it for so long.

I quickly find out that she’s one of the most influential and powerful women in the Resistance. Her name is Miss Violet.

Kazuya, Sanoske, and I retreat from the table to a pile of pillows in a corner of the room. Sanoske leans against the wall, his head tilted back, his sword balanced between his legs.

I sit next to him, watching the crowd of people laughing and enjoying themselves. Kazuya stretches out, his long legs extended, his head resting in my lap.

“So,” Sanoske starts, tilting his head towards me. “What do you think of the Resistance?”

A group of young men start to drum short sticks against some rocks on the floor, creating a fast and captivating rhythm. People start to sway to the beat.

“They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen before,” I whisper back.

“Do you think you could live among them?” Sanoske probes.

I look at him, wide-eyed. “I don’t know. I think so. With Beth. The two of us could live here together,” I say.

“Maybe someday you will,” Kazuya says.

“How many other armies are they connected to?” I ask. “You obviously came to Albion knowing about them. Who else knows about them?”

Sanoske raises his eyebrows and smiles. “You’re right. They’ve been in contact with the Japanese army for about three years now. But I think they’ve known the Chinese army for a couple of decades.

“There are other pockets of Resistance in Albion, mostly hidden underground. The next largest one is far north of Albion, by the ocean.

“The two cities rarely communicate, but each have scouts like Theodor and Charles, who you met, who travel between the communities sharing information and trading.”

As Sanoske talks, I watch the people moving to the music. Men wrap their arms around the women and spin them in circles.

“How long have they existed?” I whisper. “And how is it that Albion has no knowledge of it?”

Kazuya chuckles.

“The Masters do know about the Resistance,” Sanoske tells me with a small smile. He twirls his sword around. “They always have. It’s just that they have no idea where they are.

“They’re almost as worried about the Resistance as they are about the war. The Resistance could destroy them from the inside.

“A few scouts have been caught over the decades, but there’s a rule within the Resistance. It’s quite simple. Don’t get caught.”

Kazuya spells it out for me. “So the scouts kill themselves.” He exhales.

“All the scouts carry a small pill in their clothes,” Sanoske continues.

“It’s poison. It kills you in seconds. All they have to do is bite down on it, and the Resistance will be safe. No one has ever been caught before.”

I turn away from him to look at the people again. “That’s brave,” I murmur.

“The same goes for us,” Kazuya says from my lap. I glance down at him. His dark eyes meet mine. “We don’t get caught either.”

I stare at him, wide-eyed.

“The Resistance was founded at the start of the Great War, actually,” Sanoske continues. I look at him again. He keeps his gaze on me, a small smile playing on his lips.

“It wasn’t the Resistance to begin with, it was a sanctuary. The Underground, as it was called back then, was, as you might have guessed, a complex network of underground railways to get from one side of the city to the other.

“After the bombs started to fall, the Underground became the safest place in the city. It served as a sort of giant bunker.

“But as the war dragged on and the mutations began, the people living on the land of Albion evolved into the Perfects. The people down here stayed the same. The two quickly became enemies.

“The Perfects tried to enslave the people down here. They didn’t meet their standards, you see. Yet, they were trying to convince them that they were slaves for their country, that they were serving their country.

“The people down here wouldn’t have any of that, and they went into hiding, into complete seclusion. They have perfected the art of hiding. Neither the Chinese nor our army found them.

“It was they who always found us. Over the decades, they have transformed the Underground into a city. The city is called Resistance, by the way, but the people here, they prefer to be called the Resistants.”

“Resistants,” I murmur, looking back at them. “They are my ancestors.”

“In a way. They are very different from the people who used to live here before the war, but they are more like them than the Perfects,” Kazuya says.

“They’re unhealthy though,” I murmur.

“Yes,” Sanoske confirms with a single nod. “The first generation of Resistants didn’t live past thirty. Eighty percent of the next generation didn’t even make it to ten. The rest didn’t fare much better.

“They were born with deformities, cancers too horrific to bear. The ones who lived the longest were the healthiest. Each generation is healthier than the last, with less radiation.

“But it takes a long time for it to fade. That’s why a Resistant’s life expectancy doesn’t go beyond forty.” He chuckles. “Just like Perfects, right?”

I frown at him. “They’re brave people, fighting to live,” Sanoske says. “You can admire that about them.”

A laugh interrupts us, and Haruhiko bounds over, his spiky hair sticking up in all directions. He grins at us as he squats down next to me. He rattles off something in Japanese to Kazuya, and then both Kazuya and Sanoske burst into laughter.

Their deep, throaty chuckles echo in my head. I like the sparkle in their eyes. Kazuya says something, then gets up. He winks at me before dragging Haruhiko away with him.

“They’ll be back,” Sanoske chuckles as we watch them leave. He leans his head back, smiling.

“So, Perfect,” he murmurs, “what’s your plan now? Stay here and forget everything else, or are you going to chase after your daughter again?”

I fold my hands in my lap and stare at them. “My options seem pretty limited,” I tell him. “But I won’t abandon my daughter. I’ll bring her here.”

I lift my eyes to his. He purses his lips and nods once. “What about you?” I ask.

He raises his eyebrows at me. “Me?”

“What’s your plan now? Stay here, or keep raiding Albion? No one’s coming to rescue you, are they? Your backup would have shown up by now. You’ve been in Albion for at least a year.

“Your mission was to kill all the Masters in that mansion, then retreat, right? But you stayed. Why did you stay?”

Sanoske gazes at his sword as he spins it.

“It always amazes me how much you guess right,” he chuckles. “You’re almost spot on. We lost contact with our superiors six months ago because we didn’t go home when they wanted us to. The mission isn’t over yet.”

“What mission?” I ask.

Sanoske glances up as Haruhiko and Kazuya return with three young Resistant men and two Resistant women. Sanoske looks back at me.

“Dance with me.”

“Dance? What?”

He stands up and grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. He hands his sword to Kazuya and, holding my wrist, he leads me away from them.

He guides me toward the people swaying to the music and wraps his arm around my waist. I instinctively pull back.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he pulls me back to him.

“Teaching you to dance,” he replies. “Just follow my lead.”

He places a hand on my waist and pulls me to him. His other hand holds mine gently. I feel his legs against mine, and his face hovers above me. As he looks down at me, I lower my head, feeling my cheeks heat under his gaze.

“I don’t understand what dancing is,” I whisper.

“I’m teaching you,” he replies with a small chuckle. Then his grip tightens, and he starts spinning us around. I gasp in surprise as he leads me around the room, hopping and twirling.

As the beats get faster, so do his steps. Soon I can’t keep up, and I let him whirl me around in circles. Eventually, we stop and the music slows down. He moves more slowly, and I let myself relax.

“Alex,” he murmurs.

I look up at him and find him staring down at me. “The Resistants hate Perfects. Over the decades, a few Resistance cities have been discovered and completely wiped out.

“Everyone was killed, even the children. They didn’t even bother to keep anyone as slaves. They were contaminating Albion. Traitors, they called them. And a Traitor immediately gets a death sentence, don’t they?”

I nod once.

“So the Resistants, they don’t want to hear about your life as a Perfect. All they’ll want to hear is how much you hate the Perfects, especially the Masters.

“It would be dangerous for you if you insist on considering yourself a Perfect. This is your chance to start your life again, but you have to start from scratch. You have to let go of being a Perfect, of your past.

“Don’t tell anyone you lived with the Masters. Say only you escaped them. They could turn against you, and I wouldn’t be able to protect you,” Sanoske says.

I stare at him, my heart pounding. “I can’t give up being a Perfect or my past, Sanoske. You know that,” I reply. “I need to find my daughter and bring her here.”

“Was your life so terrible, Alex? Will hers be so bad? You only hated it because you were exposed to the truth. If you hadn’t been, nothing would have changed. You would have been happy.”

“I was never happy, and I never felt safe. I always felt lost. I was lucky I turned out to be Perfect.

“But Beth, she might not. She could fail her Testing, or be exposed to the toxic air, or be killed in a foreign raid. She will be safer and happier here.”

“Don’t you think that’s selfish of you?”

“Selfish?” I pull away from him.

He stops dancing, his hand gripping my wrist. “What about what she wants?”

“She’s still a toddler. She has no idea what she wants. I’m her mother! I know what she needs!” I snap.

“Mother.” He nods his head once and looks away from me. “What use would you be to her as a mother if you haven’t established a life for her here first?

“Alex, think about it. Be smart. Don’t let anyone know you’re a Perfect. You can be a Cripple, a Defective, or a Traitor. I don’t care. But you can’t live here as a Perfect.

“People will start asking questions soon. If you want to stay, you’ll have to answer them right.” His gaze is intense. “Then my men and I can protect you.”

I shake my head, my eyes wide. “I already owe you my life, like, five times over. You’ve done too much. I can’t repay you. I can’t ask you to protect me.”

He chuckles, glancing at his men. He places his hands on my bare shoulders, turning me to face them. They’re relaxed, leaning back, laughing, drinking.

“My men are human too. Being soldiers doesn’t mean they don’t need something to fight for. Their love for their country only goes so far.

“To them, the Resistance is life. A life they want to protect. Just like you. A mother, lost, weak, helpless.”

I frown.

“You remind them of the people they left behind in Japan. Their mothers, sisters, lovers. They need you as much as you need them. They couldn’t survive the war without knowing their families are safe.

“They wouldn’t fight if they didn’t believe they were protecting something. And since we can’t know if their families are really safe, it comforts them to protect you.”

He turns me back to face him. “Please, be there for them.”

“What about you?” I whisper.

His expression darkens for a moment, then he smiles. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he says.

Then, grabbing my wrist, he leads me back to his men.