The Last Mate on Earth

Part 1 - Chapter 18

* * * Hayden’s POV * * *

I walked back to the dormitory in a daze. She outed me. She knows who I really am now.

“And you’re clear,” Joven muttered to me as I closed the door. I sense a slight wobble in his voice and he pauses as though he’s about to say something else, but I don’t hear what it is. My head is yanked back violently, “Dr Philip!” Joven shouts as his silhouette leaps over his study desk in my peripheral vision and bounds across the bedroom towards me and my father.

He won’t make it in time.

His fist came crashing towards my face faster than I could react. He throws me across the room and into the computer screen, showering me with glass. I hit the floor. It’s still warm from the motors that have been running underneath.

I look up to see Joven failing to hold my father back. As his fist approaches for the final time, I’m comforted by Hope’s image projected in my mind. She’s there to help me through.

I closed my eyes.

It’s dark. I race to keep up with the man I barely know who has taken me away from my life. Too scared to cry. Not in front of my father.

“You’re lucky to have a father in your life,’ my mother’s husky voice whispers in my mind, helping to calm me.

The Velcro straps on my shoes are unstuck, soaked in the floodwater lapping at the walkway as we approach the mountain ahead. A flash of lightning electrifies the clouds and I suddenly realize it isn’t a mountain: it’s a building. With enormous letters above the entrance come into view as the lowest layer of thin cloud disperses in a gust of wind.

Facility of Hope.

“Do only as I tell you,” my father says, as a beam of light scans his eyes and a set of heavy glass doors slides open, letting us into a cavernous entrance hall.

“Good morning, Dr Philip,” a young woman says from behind the desk. I paused at the sight of her. She’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.

“Daddy, her face is smooth,” I said, admiring her perfect complexion.

“That’s enough now. No talking,” my father says.

“But, Daddy, why is she –“

“Enough,” my father snaps. I keep silent but I watch the woman with complete fascination. She stares at a computer screen from behind her desk, her fingers typing something on the keyboard. That’s when I noticed that her fingers weren’t pressing any keys. They graze the tops of the square letter pads but apply no pressure.

“Miss Rita is expecting you. You are cleared to ascend to the top floor once you are through security. You, too, young man.” She flashes me a smile and I see a small smudge of her red lipstick on her teeth. “How old are you?” she asks kindly.

“I am four,” I replied proudly. She smiles.

“Thank you, Emily,” my father said.

“How do you like your new job?”

“Very much, Dr Philip. Thank you again,” she replied, with the same smile. She’s young. Younger than my mother. I’ve never seen any woman like her before.

My father walked away. I picked up my suitcase again and scrambled after him.

Security checks everything in my case. Every toy. Every book. Once we’re through, we board a lift and begin our ascent.

“Ouch!” I complained, as my ears popped.

“Don’t worry, I doubt you’ll be coming and going from here very often,” my father said, noticing my discomfort.

“Daddy, the lady. Why was she different?” I asked. My father smiles. It’s not an expression I’d seen on his face many times before.

“Different how?” he asks, seeming genuinely interested in me for the first time today. I take a moment to think about how best to describe it.

“She’s pretty,” I say. My father chuckles.

“Indeed. Very pretty for a dead woman,” he says.

“Dead?” I asked, not understanding.

“Yes. Emily, the real Emily, is dead. The person you just met was not real, just a projection of reality.” He smiled.

I don’t understand what he’s saying. The lift doors open and I step into my new home for the first time, but one question pops into my mind. Did I just talk to a ghost?

When I open my eyes, I’m blinded by an intense white light. It’s cold and my body itches under whatever material is pulled over me. “Shhhh. I’ve nearly finished, my dear,” a soft voice says kindly from somewhere behind the light. “Must have been quite a malfunction.”

“Malfunction?” I asked. The voice is female, so I’m not on one of the medical floors. I can only be in the dormitory, still in the castle.

“Yes, the report says that the equipment malfunctioned in the office when you were logging your report. Don’t worry if you can’t remember. It’s quite normal for some memory loss after a head injury,” the parent explains. I can’t work out who she is: her face is hidden behind the light she’s working with.

“So that’s the spin he’s put on this little accident, is it?” I chuckled.

“He?” the parent asks.

“Dr Philip. My father.”

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t have any more information about the accident to give you, young man, but whatever happened, you need to rest,” she orders, as she finishes the final stitch on my forehead. She switches off the blinding circular light and I finally catch a glimpse of the fine wrinkles that decorate her face.

“Parent Kimberley,” I said, sitting up slightly so I could look at her properly.

Her marble-like eyes have a watery shimmer, reflecting the room. It’s a magical quality, almost enchanting. Her thinning skin radiates experience and knowledge as her lips curl into a motherly smile. Her face is a story, each wrinkle a sentence written into her skin over time, beckoning you to read it, to study it.

“I thought I told you to rest,” she says.

“I will. I was just wondering why I’m here and not on one of the medical floors below.” I sounded casual.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to that question either. When Miss Rita gives us an order we simply obey,” she says calmly, walking towards the door followed by two other women whom I hadn’t seen in the shadows. Parents Tabitha and Connie.

Even unconscious, beaten half to death, a man is not trusted to be alone with a woman. Especially not in the facility. Not after the Prospect Number Two disaster.

“Rest. Miss Rita will be in to see you in a few moments,” parent Kimberley says, as she leaves the room. The door hisses shut and the lock clicks, sealing me inside. She places her hand on the glass and I catch her eye as the glass begins to frost. Just before its transparency fades completely, she gives me a subtle, comforting wink. I’m not sure what it means but it fills me with warmth as my head hits the pillow. I’m trying not to think about what Miss Rita’s visit might entail.

I’m standing on the castle wall, dangling my feet over the edge as I look down at the distant city below. My shoes swing back and forth as I watch hundreds of workers study each pixel on the screens, cleaning and replacing them in preparation for Hope’s first day in the facility.

As my foot swings back, it catches on the bottom of the metallic ledge and my shoe slips from my small foot, falling into the world below. Suddenly it stops, hovering in mid-air just a few metres below the castle turret, caught in a seemingly invisible force field.

The workers are too busy to notice. I turned to see my father and Miss Rita speaking at the other end of the walkway, arguing, it seemed, from my father’s flushed cheeks. I looked back down at my floating shoe. I think I can get it. I climb over the railings that surround the Turret and stand on the polished metal but my sock slips and I fall.

Although I’m aware of the illusion, my body still reacts as though I’m plummeting to my death. It’s an awful sensation and I let out a small yelp. I hit the screens hard and the ones I’m lying on flicker under my weight. I look up. No one had noticed. The team of lab-coated men obsessively polishing the screens are too preoccupied with their task. I stood and took a step. Then another. I’m walking across the fake sky, each step feeling unnatural as my feet shatter the illusion they are building for Hope.

I reach down and pick up my lost shoe. “Hayden!” a distant voice calls. I looked around and saw no one.

“Hayden!” it calls again, as I slip on my shoe. The voice seemed familiar.

“Hayden!” Miss Rita screams, or is it my father? Perhaps both. I look up and they have seen me. The game is up. I’m in trouble now.

“HAYDEN!”

I sat up in shock.

“Hayden,” Miss Rita is standing at the foot of the bed. “Bad dream?” she asks, as I try to calm my breathing.

“Yeah, one of those that feel real, when you don’t remember falling asleep,” I explained.

‘“Those are my favourite,” she replies, running her fingers across the metal bed frame. “Those dreams are the only escape from this reality sometimes.”

She looks troubled. I’ve not seen her like this before; it doesn’t suit her.

‘“Your father is a complicated man.” She changed the subject abruptly, not looking me in the eye.

I’ve known Miss Rita since I was a kid, when she first employed my father and we moved to the castle, but I don’t see her much now. Of course, she’s a busy woman.

Being responsible for halting the extinction of the human race has made her the most powerful person on the planet. Governments obey her, royalty bow to her, religious figures fear her.

Getting a meeting with her is near impossible, so spending quality time with me is hardly at the top of her list of priorities. It means I don’t know her like I used to, but I can still sense when something’s not quite right.

“I know he does things sometimes that are –“

“Crazy!” I interrupted her, which I'd never done before. I don’t think many people interrupt her.

“... out of line,” she continues calmly.

“Sometimes, his actions are uncalled for, his temper uncontrollable, and the way he treats you can be unacceptable. But he’s trying his best to deal with the pressure we all face. Unfortunately, as his son, you get the physical fallout of that pressure.”

“Yeah, and I’ve got the scars to prove it,” I say, pointing to the bandage covering my forehead.

Miss Rita looks away, as though she’s almost ashamed to see me like this.

“You know your father better than anyone, Hayden. He likes to control things, for life to be planned and predictable. When events don’t go smoothly, when life isn’t the way he planned it, he finds it difficult to deal with. Particularly when that involves you, Hayden.’ She swipes her hand and audio starts playing.

It’s my voice, and then I hear hers.

“My father is … controlling. Our relationship is difficult.”

Miss Rita swipes again and it stops. I bowed my head in shame. Not only did I break protocol, I criticized my father openly for everyone watching to hear.

“I imagine those words would be difficult to take from your son,” Miss Rita suggested.

“They are also potentially extremely damaging for Hope.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I said honestly. “It won’t happen again.”

“It won’t. It mustn’t,” Miss Rita commands, suddenly seeming more like the woman I know. “This is a warning, Hayden. Not from your father, from me. I won’t play games with you. I won’t hit you. But if you break protocol again, there will be serious repercussions for you and for Joven. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss Rita,” I said, like a naughty schoolboy in front of the headmistress.

“Once you have recovered you will be escorted back to your dormitory and today’s event will not be discussed with anyone.”

She walks towards the door, which swishes open automatically. ”Rest, my boy,” she says, as she disappears into the corridor of the facility. The frosted-glass door closes and locks behind her.

She’s never spoken to me like that before. Years of running this place have made her cold, but I guess even the thickest ice has cracks.