“Yes. By chance, Professor Jacob witnessed his psychotic episode in public. Because we’ve been building a case against him, the professor knew exactly what needed to be done.”
This must be the same person Aris told him about, Thane thought.
“If we didn’t know about him, he would have been taken into police custody for one night then released, like all public disturbance cases. It would have been useless. This way, he can be treated. He’ll no longer be a threat.”
“That’s why we need you,” says Professor Jacob.
“We need more information. Who they all are. Where they meet. We don’t know enough,” Apollina says.
“But why wouldn’t you just use video surveillance and drones? Wouldn’t those be more effective?” Thane asks.
“Only the police have access to those,” Professor Jacob says.
“Oh, I was under the impression that you work together,” Thane says.
“Reluctantly,” says the professor. “We don’t always agree.”
“In order to treat them, the law says we need consent,” Apollina says. “As you can imagine, people in love with their dreams aren’t exactly lining up to erase them.”
“Unfortunately, the police would rather follow an archaic law written hundreds of years ago instead of doing what needs to be done,” Professor Jacob says. “So it falls on us. We’re the guardians of the Planner’s ideology—of Tabula Rasa.”
Apollina steps forward, so close Thane can feel warmth emanating from her skin. At the same height, he is looking right into her cold, fierce eyes.
“After running tests, we’ve been able to determine one commonality among them—those we were able to treat,” she says. “A drug. We found a trace of it in his system. It makes people believe they can remember their past. Based on our database, it’s been around for as long as Tabula Rasa—invented to create unrest. The Interpreter Center’s goal is to destroy it each time it reappears. But it keeps returning every cycle.”
Thane feels as if the ground is shaking underfoot. “But how? How can it keep returning when everyone’s memories are wiped after Tabula Rasa?”
“We don’t know. We can only assume the source was never destroyed. We believe that once it’s eradicated, we should be rid of it for good,” Apollina says.
“The Planner’s hope for a peaceful existence for mankind rests on Tabula Rasa,” says Professor Jacob. “There’s nothing in the past but the Last War. That past has no place in the present.”
Thane imagines a world of chaos. Of people fighting against one another. A world where distrust grows like cancer of the mind. The image is too easy to conjure.
“That drug is a direct assault on peace. We need you to follow the suspects and find the source,” the professor says.
Thane looks at the man on the bed and begins to see him as dangerous. The Four Cities need to be protected. It is the only home he has—that everyone has. He must find the source that threatens to unravel this place and their way of life. He needs to destroy it before it destroys everything.
A breeze blows through curtains. The tinkling of wind chimes comes from somewhere nearby over the constant sound of waves rolling on sand. The air smells as if it is about to rain.
“Wake up sleepyhead,” a voice says. But instead of making her want to get up, the voice sinks her farther into the soft bed. She feels the hard tip of a finger running along her skin, outlining her. It moves down toward the supple part of her, rousing something primal.
“Aris, you have a reach,” says Lucy, waking her. “It’s Benja.”
“Put it through.”
She pulls the cover over her body and turns on her side. Benja’s image appears in the middle of her bedroom. He has a pencil behind one ear and his hair is tousled as if he had just wrestled with a bear. It only adds to his allure.
“We should go to the main library today,” he says.
He is not looking at her. Instead, his eyes are focused on something offscreen. She hears a crinkling sound like static.
They have been spending a lot of time together this week. It started by accident. They ran into each other at a library the day after their first date and got into a discussion about a book, one of the classics. When the library closed, she realized she did not want the conversation to end. She told him all she wanted was friendship. He was of the same mind. They’ve been together every day since.
They bonded quickly as if they’d always known each other. The more time she spent with him, the less his good looks distracted her. She learned there was quite a brain behind his gorgeous face. But he is . . . She struggles to come up with a word to describe him.
Benja doesn’t appear to fit or want to fit into any box. His edges are all blurry. But he is interesting. And life could be worse than having an interesting, blurry friend. If only he was not a romantic. It’s a useless state of being.
Aris narrows her eyes. “Another library?”
“I just have to do some research,” Benja says.
“Research or stalking?”
He laughs and looks up at her. “Wait. Are you still in bed? What time is it?”
“It’s Saturday. I was out late last night.”
“Another first date?” he asks.
“Maybe.”
“Did he spend the night?”
“None of your business.”
“Anyway, if we happen to see the Dreamers, I’m not going to walk out.”
She rolls her eyes. The Dreamers are the focus of many conversations with Benja. In an attempt to talk sense into him, she had told him about the angry man from Elara and what Professor Jacob had shared with her about the Interpreter Center. But Benja had laughed it off, telling her to stop worrying about his mental health.
“You’re obsessed,” she says.
“I prefer tenacious,” he says. “It’s a quest for knowledge.”
He has dragged her to more libraries and bookstores than she cares to remember. Not once did they find anything or anyone resembling a Dreamer—not that she knows what they’re supposed to look
