Free Darklandia by T.S. Welti Page B

impatient with me. “It’s a detainee facility, and it’s in Brooklyn,” he replied. “Sera, there’s something you should know before we get there.”
    I wanted to look at him, because I was beginning to like the way he said my name, but I stared straight ahead at the empty seats before me. “What is it?”
    “Sera, your father knew he was going to be detained. He joined the movement willingly. I don’t want you to think your father was unjustly targeted by the Department of Felicity.”
    “Are you defending what they did to my father?”
    “No, you’re misunderstanding me. I’m saying that your father understood the risk he was taking and he accepted his role with unflinching courage. Your father was a great man. He still is a great man.”
    “So my father is alive? Will I be able to see him?” My mouth went dry at the thought of seeing my father’s smile.
    “No, you won’t be allowed to see him,” Nyx replied, and a different expression settled across his handsome features, a look I had never seen on anyone’s face. His eyebrows crinkled together, the outer corners of his eyes turned slightly downward. This was new, and I couldn’t be certain, but I had a feeling this expression conveyed pity.
    “Do you pity me?” I asked. “Is that what the look on your face means?”
    The corners of Nyx’s lips turned up in a smile again. “You’re learning quickly. Pity is not really the correct word, though. I don’t pity you. I empathize with you. Both my mother and father were detained.”
    The darkling disease runs in your family.
    The words flashed in my mind, but they weren’t my words. Darla had spoken these words to me the day after my father’s detainment. It felt like a punch in the gut that day and it still did. My family was diseased. Not even the Commission for Hereditary Intelligence could correct that anomaly. Darla’s family was only one generation further removed from the darklings. I once believed this made her family better than mine.
    “There is no such thing as a darkling disease,” Nyx corrected me. “There is no such thing as darklings. We are all human. We all suffer the same emotions and urges.” He paused to look me in the eye, to make sure I understood him before he continued. “The government has taught you almost from birth that you belong to a superior species, more evolved, less violent. The truth is that there is no difference between your DNA and the DNA of a darkling.
    “The only difference is the synthetic mixture of drugs and propaganda you’ve been fed, that courses through your veins and pollutes your mind. That is what makes you different. Whether that makes you better or worse than a darkling is for you to decide, but the so-called darklings are no more diseased than you or I.”
    I looked past Nyx at the safety pole, which reflected a distorted view of us: life through the lens of the rations, everything fuzzy and rounded, everything safe.
    “Why did you tell me to drink my ration before you arrived?”
    “Because that wasn’t your ration,” he replied with a grin. “I adjusted your dosages in the system. You can drink your rations on the same schedule as before, only now your rations won’t turn you into mush. You’re going to feel a little strange the first week. I know you already experienced the dark feelings and hunger from going without the rations for a day, but that’s nothing compared to what you’ll feel in a day or two… maybe sooner.
    “Your body is going to slip into a state of withdrawal and you’ll feel as if your insides are being clawed to shreds. But don’t worry and try not to raise your mother’s suspicions. You have to try to pretend that everything is okay. If the pain gets too bad, you can always get in touch with me and I’ll try to adjust your ration with a proper dosage of pain relievers. But I can’t make any promises. I’m no health specialist.”
    “That’s not comforting,” I replied.
    “That’s real