Chapter One: Flare.

Chapter Two: Double Knot.

Chapter Three: To Save A Life

Chapter Four: Dance With Hornets

Chapter x: Veil.

Chapter x: Free Run.

Note: Chapters striked-through  are not yet confirmed and chapters bolded are finished (draft status).

Three things are certain, throughout life: birth, death, and betrayal. And although like most I experienced all three in equal measures, betrayal is, by far, the worst I have experienced. Birth and death can be shocking, confusing, emotional. Death can cause you to grieve, to shut down, to stop absorbing. Still, betrayal is worse. Betrayal eats away at anything it touches. It goes, unseen, until it is too late. It cannot be predicted and the only way to control it is to never trust anyone.  It is a knife between your ribs when your back is turned, a shove down just as you begin to ascend. And it comes, often, from the one you trust the most.

My thoughts made me restless.

The only solution on nights like these was to slip out onto the balcony, to escape the suffocation that my thoughts provided, to stand there until I became too cold to think, to feel, to act. Emotions drained away and left nothing, an empty carcass, and that was how I liked it. Then I would stay, watching the stars, alone and free until sleep reached up to pull me under. And then nothing, sweet oblivion, until the sun rose and it would all come rushing back.

It would be a lie to say I never felt self pity, but the nights were the worst. In the daytime there are ways to distract yourself with bright lights and sounds, should the thoughts fill your head with a potent sense of suffocating, but at night you and your demons are truly alone to battle it out. The battle for your body, for ultimate control. Let your mind win and come morning they might find you lying broken on the ground below. Or, perhaps, they just won't find you at all.

Thankfully, the dreams were becoming less frequent, and the nightmares even lesser. Since I hadn't been in a stable situation for a long few years, I couldn't remember what it felt like, and consequently I didn't miss it. There was minimal chances of things turning sour for me, with so many people surrounding me, watching me, making sure I wasn't going to end up under a train or floating face down in a river. At first they had thought dying was all I had on my mind, but it wasn't true.

I didn't want it all to end. I just wanted it to be like it once had, with people I knew and trusted around me. We hadn't been safe, and we'd been running from the moment war tore across the country. But we'd been happy, and in our innocence we hadn't cared what we were doing. Now everything was a choice - walk to the train terminal, or call for a car? Feel the pavement under my feet, or the vibrations from the cars engine? Visit Dr Summonds and be probed about my private life, or skip a session and be dragged in there anyway? It was all choices, and there were both too many and too few.

Thinking, at least, was better than dreaming: in my dreams, I remembered the feel of salty rain on my face and sand in my hair, laughing about something so small and insignificant that it hardly seemed to matter now.  I missed those days with a burning, fierce passion, and I didn't want to be reminded of those days. I had been too happy, too free - we all had. We'd risen so high, so far we thought we could escape anything. We outlived ourselves. If we had never gotten off the ground, we would never have fallen so far, or so quick.

A haze of smoke swept across the view, mixing with the lights from the city and the darkness, making the lights shine a little brighter and the darkness more dense, somehow, as though the whole world had twisted in perspective; but I knew it wasn't the world that had changed: it was me. Delicately, I ran a hand through the smoke, marvelling at the way it clung to my fingers. I leant out, a little further, and glanced along the row of balconies on either side; on the right, I found where the smoke was coming from: two girls, both perhaps a little older than I was, sitting with lit cigarettes balanced between their fingers, raising it to their lips and blowing out a soft stream of smoky haze, which drifted across my balcony.

"Hello?" I called. One of the girls heard me, and nudged the other in the stomach, both of their faces turning in my direction. One pointed, and then they both stood up, hiding their cigarettes. One coughed into her hand, and glanced sideways at her friend.

"No- please, don't go." I called out. "I didn't mean- I'm not going to tell on you, I promise. I just saw the smoke and wondered..." My words descended into a mumble that barely I could understand. At last, I stopped mumbling, and shrugged. "I... I'm Violet."

"Thia." One called back, holding the cigarette back to her lips. She gestured to her friend. "This is Helen. I remember you - we met on the first day I was here, remember?"

It took me a while to think back. I'd seen many faces, and rarely saw those faces again. I'd learnt to accept that friends were out of bounds for me right now, so trying to remember names and faces was a big waste of time. 

I could have stayed there forever, fixed, frozen in time - being quiet and just watching. From a tall dark building in the distance, there was a brief but blinding spark of light; it rose into the air, from red to green to blue to purple, spraying sparks and smoke: a flare, set off in memory of some long-forgotten memory or event. Or perhaps by another lonely soul, like me, who just wanted to leave an impression, to have something to show for the years they lived here. I sighed, and then the darkness reached up to pull me under.

"There was no escaping the inevitable: morning would come, and with it dawned the day of Dr Summonds visit. She was concerned, still, that I wasn't quite right. I was glad of her concern but I wasn't interested in what she had to say, not today of all days.

"Timecheck?" I asked, my eyes still closed in reluctance to give up the rare nights bliss I had experienced. "Suzie?"

"Good morning, Violet. It is currently nine-fifteen in the morning. The temperature is nineteen degrees celsius, and is set to remain at an average of between seventeen and twenty today." The AI replied. "Would you like any further information?"

I rose from my chair and rubbed at my forehead. I hadn't meant to spend the whole night out on the balcony, and now my neck ached from the awkward curled up position I had been sleeping in. "What day is it?"

"The fifteenth day of the sun months. Prestigious events occurring on this day were: the great inventor, Arthur Clainé, created the first human AI twenty years ago today, and consequentially it is my sixth year of service." There was a slight pause. "Speaking of creators, Dr Summonds is currently visiting upstairs."

"I know," I told her wearily. "Give me ten minutes. I need to get dressed."

The walk back into my room was painful, my frozen feet stiff and unwilling to respond. When I finally made it inside, the balcony door shut behind me, and the lights to the walk-in wardrobe flickered on. 

"I have selected garments for you to wear according to the average temperature, and clothing of your guests. There are several combinations I could suggest." I took a seat on the bench while the racks moved into position.

"Just.. choose." I rubbed my neck, wincing as my fingers rubbed over sore spots. "Dr Summonds has seen me in a worse state."

"Now might be a good opportunity to impress, Violet. I believe she may be planning something."

"Dr Summonds is always planning something," I replied, pushing studs through my ears. "I've learnt to react as little as possible to whatever she throws at me."

"Even so," Suzie replied. "Josh is... well...." She cut off abruptly. A pile of clothes dropped at my feet, and I pulled them on as she stuttered, sliding in and out of view as her projection struggled to adjust to her change in heart.  "I... I didn't realize. I shouldn't tell you, not if you didn't know."

"You'll tell me anyway." I replied.

"Josh's purpose is to love you." Suzie said quietly, her projection settling down beside me. "If he isn't fulfilling his purpose..." 

"They'll reassign him. I know." I swept my hair away from my neck, and pulled it back into a clean ponytail.

"No, Violet, you don't understand." Suzie begged for my attention, and, reluctantly, I gave it. "He's been reassigned too many times. They'll kill him."

"It isn't his fault." I protested. "They can't seriously expect me to feel anything other than gratitude towards Josh."

"They can, and they do." Suzie replied, with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "I'm not saying...I'm not saying fake it, I'm saying be careful. And talk to Dr Summonds, because Josh deserves nothing but rewards for his work here." She got up, strode to the door, and held it open. "Come on. They're expecting us."

                                                             ###

I glanced at the mirrored sides as I walked up the stairs, adjusting the messy pun I had pinned up in a hurry. The combination of loose green shirt and black trousers worked well enough, and Suzie seemed to be able to judge my skin tone in comparison to the shade of colours I wore. But it wasn't the superficial that caught my attention; it was the stark reminder of how different I would have been just three years ago. I wouldn't have been so easily captured nor domesticated, and if anyone had dared tell me I was wrong, I would have fought them tooth and nail until I proved I was better. 

Now all I seemed able to do was follow commands; like a dazed sheep being herded by dogs, I shied away from conflict, and lead the simplest life possible. Everyone else seemed convinced it was no more than I deserved - my rebel status had lead to having a traitorous reputation, not matter what I did or said to try and change other opinions of me. I would always be the one on the wrong side of the war, and I would always be the one left to one side. 

I tilted my head and caught the reflection of the tight double knot sprawled across my skin. The source of all the trouble; the mark to remind myself and others that I was, at heart, a traitor - and that was all I would ever be. No redemption for me, or any of the thousands of other teenagers arrested as the war reached it's crescendo. We had resisted a long time, and that had earnt me the double knot; not just once of being born to the wrong parents, but twice for not handing myself over.

They judged us too harshly, everyone knew: no child could have handed themselves over, not even if they honestly believed they were on the correct side of the war. Our parents brought us up lovingly, brought us up to fight for what we believed in. And we believed in them, their teachings, all that they told us.

This side showed an entirely different story. The story of the rebels, causing chaos and disorder wherever they went, stealing and burning anything they came across. The truth just wasn't like that - but how were we to tell them? In a society where we had no voice, no vote, no way of protesting to the great dishonours they dealt us, we had to bear it. Whatever they threw at us. 

The other survivors had been spread far away from me. Perhaps we were all separated, although the more likely reason was my unstable mental state shortly after I was rehabilitated, since there were far more rebels than there were miles of the City. 

​Why didn't we band together? The answer was simple. If others saw large groups of us - identified by our knotted tattoos - then we would be arrested on sight. That was the problem. We couldn't risk making friends, because we would be torn away if those friends happened to be knotted. No one flaunted it, and by the time I discovered someone was knotted, it would probably be too late. It was easier not to trust anyone, to cut myself off completely, to avoid the overwhelming disappointment I might otherwise feel.

"Greetings, Dr Summonds," Suzie had already reached the top of the staircase, and I hurried after her. "How are you today?"

"Very well, thank you, Suzie - Violet, it is good to see you." Dr Summonds rose from her chair. Her greying hair - although it looked more silver in this light - was pinned back tightly as it always was, and she gestured for me to have a seat. Suzie assumed her position, perched next to Dr Summonds. It was interesting to see them together; they shared almost a parent and child relationship. Normally Suzie was informative, polite and respectful - but when around Dr Summonds she became childlike. I put it down to the relationship between AI and creator, and Dr Summonds never commented or seemed aware of Suzie's reaction to her, so I let it go unnoticed between us. "Do take a seat."

I sat. And then it began.