The Sky is Everywhere

Chapter Five

I blink back at him. What he's just said is so ridiculous . . . so insane . . .

"But . . . you can't," I say, because I can't find any other words.

"Why not?"

I have no idea.

I understand that CC hasn't been around that long, but it's all I've ever known. Whether I like it or not, it's the only home I've ever had, and I can't fathom it not existing anymore.

My heart flaps, reminding me how many times I have dreamed of flying free.

Is Roan saying that Beyond want to make that dream a reality?

More to the point, is it a reality I can dare to believe in?

"A year ago, we thought we had a breakthrough. We were contacted by a source who claimed that he was a Second, one that had passed the Trials and then been contracted into the military. He told us that the CC was hiding things, and if we ever wanted to bring it down we had to look into the Trials. That was the smoking gun we needed."

"What does that mean?"

The clouds in Roan's eyes grow darker. "We don't know. Initially he didn't want to get involved or say anything more, but he wouldn't say why. Maybe he was afraid. Anyway, long story short, we did eventually persuade him to go public with what he knew, but he never got a chance."

"Why? What happened?"

Roan shrugs, but a hard light enters his eyes. "He died less than twenty-four hours later. Officially it was a car-crash, but that's pretty convenient timing, don't you think?"

"I don't know," I mumble.

"I get that it probably sounds paranoid, but the Trials are a closely guarded secret, and the first person willing to make a public statement about them mysteriously dies the next day?" Roan shakes his head. "Not buying it. What happens to people who pass the Trials?"

"We are issued some sort of government job."

"What kind?"

I have no answer.

Roan inches closer, his eyes fixed on mine. "And what happens to people who don't pass the Trials?"

"I . . . I don't know."

I know that not everyone passes, but I've always been so determined that I will that I've refused to consider the alternative. That's how it works in the CC. It's not something we talk about.

Uncertainty twists inside me, and turns to annoyance. I don't want to be questioning any of this. The Trials are my one shot at a better life, and I want to believe in them.

"So what do you think happens to people who fail?" I snap.

"I have no idea. That's the point – no one knows. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

I don't answer.

"We thought we were getting somewhere when the CC finally agreed to allow inspections, but that hasn't taught us anything about the Trials. The CC and anyone connected to them make sure that nothing Trials-related is ever made public, and it seems to me that they're trying to hide something."

"Like what? You think they're killing people who fail?" I snort.

"No," says Roan. "That wouldn't make sense. But if there's nothing strange going on, why do they work so hard to suppress all information about the Trials?"

"We're not allowed to know about them. It would give us an unfair advantage," I say, repeating what I've always been told.

"Okay, but that doesn't explain why no one on the outside is allowed to know about them. It's not a test that firstborn kids have to take, is it? Why would it matter if we knew how it all worked? Why would it matter if we knew what happened to Seconds afterwards?" Roan presses.

I simply have no idea what to say to any of this, so I fall back on the question that I can't seem to stop asking. "Why do you care?"

I study his face. His features are lean and exact, like they've been crafted with care, and his eyes are little pieces of sky that I think I might fall into.

He frowns.

"Why do you care about Seconds? You're not one of us, so why does it matter what happens to us?"

"I care because you're human beings," he says, and his eyes flash with that same passion I saw before, like my words have lit a fire inside him. "I care because you're all being punished for crimes you didn't commit. I care because human beings are not property. Wars have been fought over this. Before the Firstborn Act, I thought the world knew better, but atrocities and cruelty always seem to come back round again. So people like me have to be here to fight it."

I try to process that. My heart is madly fluttering.

"Caia," he says, gripping the fence with one hand. "I don't know what kind of crap they've been feeding you, but you don't belong here. You shouldn't be caged up like this."

"And you honestly think you can change that." I can't help my scepticism.

"Alone? No. But I'm not alone."

His gaze holds mine, intent, and it's like a force I can't break away from.

"You think I can help you," I realise.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"But I don't know anything about the Trials."

"Caia, I'm not asking you to do anything you don't want to, but you have one advantage that Beyond doesn't. You're on the inside, where all this is happening. I'm not."

I think of that damaged section of fence sitting right in front of him. He doesn't know it's there. I could tell him, show him how he could get inside the grounds too, but I hold my tongue. After all, I still don't really know him.

"Here's what we know. Seconds are considered government property. They are raised inside the CC until they are sixteen, and then they are subjected to tests known as the Trials, used to determine whether or not they are valuable to society as a whole. We have questioned what happens to Seconds after this, and we've always been met with vague stories about how they go on to work for the government. But no one knows exactly what they're doing, and when we try to probe further, we get met with a brick wall. What we want is to find out exactly what the Trials are, and why they're being kept secret, and, if we're right to be suspicious, then to stop them if necessary."

"Stop them?" I feel a stab of panic.

Roan's eyes get a little sad. "Caia, legally you and every other Second have no rights. If the CC is taking advantage of that, we need to know. We're trying to help."

"And I don't know what to do with that," I whisper.

His forehead furrows a little more. "What do you mean?"

"I'm a Second. You're not supposed to care about me." My voice cracks a little.

"Well, I do anyway. You're a person, Caia."

A person.

Not a Second.

Not a freak.

My heart is pounding, and there's a rushing sensation in my head, and my heart is throwing itself against my ribcage.

Abruptly I get to my feet.

"I should go." I don't want to, but if I stay, I think I'm going to be overwhelmed by everything that's happening inside me.

Perhaps it's wishful thinking on my part, but Roan looks disappointed.

"I'll be here again tomorrow," he says.

"I haven't said I'll help you," I point out.

He looks up at me and smiles again, lighting up his whole face. "Maybe I just want to see you again."

They aren't words I ever thought would be spoken to me, and they bring something to life in my chest, that sputtering spark of hope.

I don't want to let that go out.