Rising Up

1 Ember Vinata On a perfect day in a perfect place with practically perfect people, even dreams should be perfect. At least that’s how it was in Tranquility for everyone—for everyone but Ember Vinata. Ember’s dreams were more real than any fantasy. The moment she fell into a deep sleep, she felt herself rise to the ceiling, sensed a force pulling her out of her body into what was another time and place, independent of hour and matter. Its vivid animation and physical awareness pulled at her mind in a tug of war. The dreams robbed her of rest, and even though her required levels of happiness peaked each day, an inner, nagging voice reminded her, “You’ll never be pretty or truly happy if you don’t get your beauty sleep.” Those negative thoughts seemed to always intrude. Ember had always known she was different. She felt everyone’s emotions, not just her own, and that was enough of a burden. But the dreams. The dreams were horrible. Her constant midnight companion was the same drama, night after night. The nightmare always began with her running. Running as fast as she could. A sinister Someone chased her, her heartbeat the beacon leading him to her. She knew he pursued her because she possessed a special ability, rare and secret, and it was this that her assailant craved. Her frantic footsteps echoed like cracked ice through a gilded building with cold, marble floors, her pursuer’s breath on her neck. She dodged mammoth books with leathery rainbow covers flying by. She reached out over and over to grab the slippery books, knowing instinctively a book could save her, but found her hands grasping only air. Finally, she melted straight into one, through its cover, landing deeply into its pages, which fanned out to cover her with safety. Yet her black-clad, caped hunter still leaned over her, reached through, and impossibly pulled her, with one jeweled hand, out of her warm cocoon. He shoved her into a golden cage suspended in space. I know you, she thought. Yet, she searched his face, unable to determine his identity. Without warning, her cage broke free, its pieces exploding and scattering into a stark wilderness, enveloping her in a new scene. She stood alone. A solitary sapling broke through the parched earth beneath her feet like an explosion. As it grew it gathered limbs and fire, where again, Ember saw the face of her enemy. She wobbled, unsteady on her feet, searing heat driving her to the ground. She cowered, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Suddenly, a whirlwind of sparkling yellow mist cascaded around her, and a strong arm pulled her to her feet. A handsome “prince”—at least that’s how she imagined him—led her by the hand. Happiness gushed through her veins until they pulsed. Just when she thought she would explode with joy, her prince fell dead in a pool of blood. She wakes. And each time she does, she knows. Somehow, her dreams are a terrible omen. It was near noon, and Ember woke up, aroused by cries for help. She realized immediately, with some embarrassment, that she had been napping, and the shouts had come from her own lips. The dreams had come again, even as she dozed, after many exhausting hours spent waiting in hope for good news. Ember sat in a neon-bright yellow-cushioned chair, the color a contrast to her black state of mind. Her mother, Talesa, lay on a stiff hospital bed, medicated on Heniprom, a treatment used at the end of life to ease suffering and pain. Right now, her mother’s ghastly illness, not her own mysterious dreams, was her biggest worry. Her mom’s last two months had been a series of ups and downs. The “skin disorder” with its large swollen red patches appeared innocent at first. Starting with just one tiny spot on her mother’s right arm, the illness came on suddenly, without warning. Mystifying. Unfathomable. This disease of “undetermined cause” was ultimately toxic. It made its way through her mother’s system like a possessed spirit, aggressively setting up residence in every part of her body. When Ember and her mom first arrived, they saw beauty. The hospital’s intensive treatment unit was a spa-like sanctuary. Pale pink walls whispered love and calm, while fresh sunflowers in every corner buoyed their spirits with their saffron smiles. Even the medical equipment doing the monitoring, draped in crystalline veils, was a decorator statement. It was the first time Ember had ever seen the inside of a hospital. For anyone in Tranquility to be in a building such as this was rare. Diseases had been eradicated with the introduction of genetic engineering, called GFX, which allowed doctors to correct faulty DNA. All citizens lived to be a hundred, guaranteed. But since Talesa was admitted three weeks ago, the room had lost its charm. Today the walls appeared faded, like a Victorian valentine left in a box too long. A food tray with sweet pudding and a filet mignon drenched in buttery sauce sat stranded on the table, each nutritional offering a solemn tease, never to be consumed. Unending revolutions of the clock had now created another night, and the darkness crept in bit by bit through the cracks in the shades. Ember tried to rouse her mom. Gently shaking Talesa’s arm, Ember said with insistence, “Mom . . . can you wake up, please!” But the only sound she heard was the beating of her own heart. Ember put her head in her hands, giving in momentarily to complete despair. I feel so helpless—more alone than I’ve felt in my whole life. A black hole is sucking me down… Her mother was the one who gave her life but also saw mystic strength flowering beneath Ember’s timid behavior. Where Ember was shy, her mother saw sensitivity. Where Talesa saw a young adult poised for legendary Status, Ember saw a child who only felt secure when following the rules. Her mother thought she was beautiful; she saw herself as flawed. Who would believe in her if she didn’t have her mom? What even Ember’s mother didn’t know was that Ember was an Empath. Her gift, first of all, made her feel like a freak. From the time she was ten, she would unconsciously pick up other people’s emotions. She didn’t just have her own feelings, she actually attracted both the negative and positive moods from other people. If someone in her social environment was happy, Ember felt those same feelings. I affected her like a force. If she was around angry people, she grew angry; if she met an anxious person, it fed her own anxieties; and if she came across sadness in others, she became sad herself. The closer her relationship was to someone, the more she was flooded with their emotions. Even strangers bonded with her, sharing more information and emotions than she ever wanted to know. It was disturbing; often she couldn’t separate what she was feeling from what people around her were feeling, and this made achieving Tranquility’s Happiness Standard very difficult. She had to work extra hard at being positive. But that was not the most bizarre thing about Ember. She could see auras around people. The colors were beautiful—red, green, yellow, purple. There were many, as the people here were good and kind. Happy, of course. However, any dark emotions and auras radiating from people around her infected her like a virus, and it hit hard. Because of her “talent,” Ember usually chose to be alone. She’d even chosen to leave school, preferring to do independent study at home, because she didn’t want to be in a classroom full of other people. It was difficult enough to handle her own emotions. And, there was the problem. In Tranquility, all people wore an electronic device known as the Alt on their wrists. It looked a little like the Smart Watches first introduced in the mid-2000s. But technology had come a long way. Back then, the watch kept time, measured steps, set reminders, rang for phone calls, and measured breaths per minute. Now, in the year 2120, a more advanced design measured human emotions and sent all the data to a central computer at City Hall. This cutting-edge device was what set Tranquility apart and made its citizens special. The people’s ability to control and eliminate negative emotions was the key for people to rise up in society. The happier someone was, the more points would appear on the Alt. Negative emotions, like anger, jealousy, and sadness took points away. More Alt points equated to more Status. More points and Status bought better food, housing, and clothing. Ember’s life depended on the Alt. That’s why her emotions—her optimism and joy—were so important. She couldn’t afford to carry around everyone else’s struggles. Her Alt points, like a compass at the North Pole, could spin out of control. But her mother’s life? It hung, suspended. It was a matter of life and death.