Linchpin

Chapter Two: A Choice

I jolted awake in a sweat. My room was cloaked in darkness, and I could feel my heart thrashing furiously against my ribcage. I rolled over and saw the LED light on my TeleCommunications Chip glowing. The device, embedded in my thumb, was telling me I had a notification. I lightly touched the light, and raised my thumb up to my ceiling. A message from Eitan was projected, "Sleep well." The message was from 3 hours ago. 

Confused, I pulled myself up and wiped at my forehead- my body was flooded with adrenaline. I swung my feet off the edge of my bed into my slippers, and draped my white cotton robe over my frazzled limbs. Eitan wasn't one to bid me goodnight. 

I grabbed my TC Device, the sleek, circular object cool in my hand. I pressed my thumb against it and, recognizing my TC Chip it spurred to life and logged me in. As I did so it promptly warned me of my high blood pressure and heart rate. I swiped away the alert and scrolled through the news. The stills of Jonah and I, along with a recording of the proposal had already been posted to the press, American All. I tried not to notice the grimace across my face. 

Deciding I needed a walk, I got up and lazily leaned against the black, square sensory tile next to my doorway, fighting off a yawn. After it scanned my handprint, the door hitched open and my senses sprang awake when a dark figure scurried across the frame. 

"Eitan?" I questioned, recognizing his hunched stance, "What are you doing here?" 

His muscles froze, and he gently turned his head to meet my gaze. He was wearing his old combat boots paired with a heavy black coat. A hood was covering up his floppy hair and a bag hung low from his shoulder. 

"Why aren't you asleep?" He asked defensively, pushing his bag out of my view. Lines creased his forehead, and his face was aglow in the light from the Feed. I glanced up at its tubing that lined the molding and noticed the light flickering ever so slightly.  

"I had a nightmare and was going to get some water," I explained, drawing my attention back to him. "What's going on?" I demanded. 

Color rushed to his face. "Me too," he mumbled, crinkling his eyebrows and tossing his hood down. "Just, couldn't sleep." 

"You go to sleep dressed like that?" I asked. I knew he seemed off tonight. "What's happening? Tell me," I demanded, folding my arms. "Now." 

Eitan rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about it, everything is fine. Just go to bed, okay?"  

I just stared at him, knowing full well what was happening. He was leaving: it was obvious. I wanted to yell at him, and tell him that he couldn't, but the damn Feed prevented me from saying what I truly wanted. 

Instead, I held his gaze and whispered, "Not like this." 

Eitan paused for a moment, and let out a sigh. "Can I come in?"  

I gestured him in and Eitan dropped his pack on the floor and the door cinched shut. He moved to sit on the edge of my bed, rubbing his hands against his knees. "Addy," he started. "I don't have much time to explain, but I'm leaving tonight."  

"Yeah I pieced that together on my own, thanks," I retorted. "Why?" I pulled the white fabric tighter around me. 

"I'm in danger." He rested his head in his hands. I just stood still, watching him, unable to move or react in any way. "Evans is on to me." 

Secretary of Defense Simon Evans had taken a special interest in Eitan after he helped discover and "raid" the old White House. If he realized who Eitan was working for, Eitan was dead. 

"How do you know?" I asked.  

"He knows someone leaked about the raid." He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration.