Free Violet by Rae Thomas Page B

My heart is beginning to pound. I fear that I will give myself
away. I struggle to calm down.
    The Alter begins to speak more forcefully. “Have
you ever seen any type of artifact hidden anywhere in your
home?”
    “No! I’ve never seen or heard of anything like
that!”
    Suddenly, his demeanor is calm. He smiles at me
as if he’s won. “Miss Price, I thought we had agreed not to lie to
one another?”
    I am confused until he pulls something familiar
from the stack of papers he arranged. He drops it onto the table in
front of me.
    My sketchbook. He opens it to one of my recent
drawings. I know which one before he finds the page. Heavy black
strokes come together to form the silhouette of a man. He has no
face. I had not drawn the room around him. It is not the room
itself, but what is in the room, that is important. The man is
reaching toward a waist-high pedestal in the center of the room.
Resting on the pedestal is the stone; outlined in the same stark
black that I used for the man, I filled the center of the stone
with a powder blue. I smudged the black outline to mix some of the
black with the blue. Light emanates from the stone, but not full
rays, a steady glow. The sketch is unmistakable. There is no doubt
that I drew the artifact that The Alter is seeking. He will never
believe that I don’t know where it is.
    As suddenly as in my dream, a brilliant light
engulfs the interrogation room, and it is as if I am no longer
there. I am in a room. A lab. The ceiling and floor are stark
white, as is all of the equipment. All four walls of this room are
formed by the shock-absorbing gel used in the science labs at
Nineteen. Throughout the room are large octagonal tables outfitted
with an array of microscopes, sanitation areas, and dishes full of
various samples. At one of the tables sits a lone scientist. My
father. Stretched out on the table in front of him is what looks
like a human corpse. My father must be doing some type of autopsy
because he is elbow deep in this man’s abdomen. When he raises his
arms, I see that he holds metallic pieces in his hands. A BioMech.
My father re-installs the piece that he removed, and the BioMech
opens its eyes. My father smiles.
    Soon, he stands and begins to pack up his work
station. He must be preparing to leave for the day. My father seems
jovial. There is a bounce in his step that I have never seen
before. He begins to walk toward the door when a scientist working
at a neighboring station swivels in his seat to address my father.
The scientist jumps up and puts on an exaggerated expression of
shock.
    “Whoa, whoa. What in Cerno’s going on here? The
most dedicated scientist in all of the Claro is leaving four
minutes early? I never thought I’d see the day! Not in all
my rotations have I seen something as shocking as this and frankly,
I’m appalled.”
    My father laughs good-naturedly as he pats his
fellow scientist on the back. “Come on, I told you I’d be heading
out. Violet saw her sixth today! Tara has planned a get-together
with the family and some of Violet’s friends. She’ll kill me if I
miss it.” My mother is still alive. That explains my father’s
happiness. I only knew him after his heart had been broken.
    A figure steps from the shadow of the doorway. I
did not notice him standing there before, but it’s possible that
he’s been there all along. “I think you’ll have a good reason to
stay.” The Alter. My father and the scientist both turn toward the
sound of the cold voice, and immediately their smiles drop from
their faces. The scientist swivels his chair back around and
continues working. My father, visibly deflated, walks back to his
work station. The Alter follows him.
    When they both reach my father’s station, The
Alter places a clear case in the center of it. Within the case is
the shard. The piece of the artifact that he had called The
Cube.
    My father is the first to speak. “What is
it?”
    The Alter speaks curtly; he is all