An investigation. Was she a criminal now? The Medsuit slackened around her. Ward stepped forward, clearing his throat. Aria flinched as he removed the needle from her arm. She could stand the pain, but not the feel of his hands on her. She pushed herself upright as soon as he stepped back, her mind reeling with dizziness.
“Follow me,” he told her. “The Consuls are expecting you.”
“The Consuls?” They were the most influential people in Reverie, governing all aspects of life in the Pod. “Consul Hess will be there? Soren’s father?”
Dr. Ward nodded. “Of the five, he’ll be the most engaged. He’s the Director of Security.”
“I can’t see him! It was Soren’s fault. He started the fire!”
“Aria, hush! Please don’t say any more.”
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Aria swallowed through a dry throat. “I can’t tell the truth, can I?”
“It won’t do you any good to lie,” Ward said. “They have means to get at the truth.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Come. Any longer and they’ll condemn you solely for making them wait.”
Dr. Ward led her through a wide corridor that curved, so Aria couldn’t see what lay ahead. The Medsuit forced her to walk with her legs and arms slightly apart. Between that and her stiff muscles, she felt like a zombie shuffling after him.
She noticed cracks and streaks of rust along the walls. Reverie had stood nearly three hundred years, but she had never seen signs of its age until now. She’d spent her whole life in the Panop, Reverie’s vast and immaculate central dome. Most everything happened there, on forty levels that housed residential, schooling, repose, and dining areas, all organized around an atrium. Aria had never seen a single crack in the Panop, not that she’d bothered to search very hard.
The design was purposely repetitive and uninteresting to promote maximum use of the Realms. Everything in the real was kept bland, down to the grays they all wore. Now, as she followed Dr. Ward, she couldn’t help wondering how many other parts of the Pod were deteriorating.
Ward stopped before an unmarked door. “I’ll see you afterward.” It sounded like a question.
Aria didn’t see the five Reverie Consuls when she stepped into the room. That’s how they always appeared in public address, the five speaking from a virtual, ancient Senate house. Only one man was seated at a table.
Soren’s father. Consul Hess.
“Take a seat, Aria,” Consul Hess said, indicating the metal chair across the table.
She sat and looked down, letting her hair fall in front of her bare eye. The room was a steel box, the walls pocked with dents. It smelled strongly of bleach.
“One moment,” Consul Hess said as he stared through her.
Aria crossed her arms to hide her trembling hands. He was probably sifting through reports of the fire on his Smartscreen, or maybe talking with an expert on how to proceed.
Soren’s father was a 12th Gen, well into his second century of life. She supposed he and Soren resembled each other, both being even-featured and stocky. But their likeness wasn’t obvious. Aging-reversal treatments kept Consul Hess’s skin as thin and tender-looking as an infant’s, while Soren’s tan made him look older. But like everyone over a hundred years old, Consul Hess’s age showed in his eyes, which were sunken and dull as olive pits.
Aria’s gaze moved to the chair next to her. It shouldn’t be empty. Her mother should be there instead of hundreds of miles away. Aria had always tried to understand Lumina’s dedication to her work. It wasn’t easy, knowing as little about it as she did. “It’s classified,” Lumina said whenever Aria asked. “You know as much as I can tell. It’s in the field of genetics. Important work, but not as important as you.”
How could Aria believe her now? Where was she when Aria needed her?
Consul Hess’s attention closed on her like a focusing lens. He hadn’t spoken yet, but she knew he was studying her. He clicked his fingernails on the steel table. “Let’s begin,” he said finally.
“Shouldn’t all the Consuls be here?”
“Consuls Royce, Medlen, and Tarquin are attending to protocol. They’ll see our conversation later. Consul Young is with us.”
Aria looked at his Smarteye, growing conscious of the missing weight on the left side of her face again. “He’s not with me.”
“Yes, true. You’ve been through an ordeal, haven’t you? I’m afraid my son bears some responsibility for what happened. Soren’s a natural code breaker. A difficult trait at this age, but one day he’ll be quite useful.”
Aria waited until she knew her voice would be steady. “You spoke with him?”
“In the Realms only,” Consul Hess said. “He won’t be capable of speaking aloud for some time. New bones are being grown for his jaw. Much of the skin over his face will have to be regenerated. He will never look the same, but he survived. He was lucky . . . but not as lucky as you.”
Aria looked down at the table. There was a long, deep scratch in the metal. She didn’t want to picture Soren with disfiguring scars. She didn’t want to picture him at all.
“Reverie hasn’t suffered a security breach in over a century. It’s both absurd and impressive that a group of Second Gens could do what Aether storms and Savages have not accomplished in so long.” He paused. “You realize how close you came to destroying the entire Pod?”
She nodded without meeting his eyes. She’d known how dangerous it was to start a fire, but she’d sat and watched it happen. She should have done something sooner. Maybe she could’ve saved Paisley’s life if she hadn’t been so scared of Soren.