Unplugged: The Beautiful World (#3, Unplugged Trilogy)

Chapter Nine

Enna

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on!" I scream and hold up my hands, palms facing outwards. "Please, hear us out!"
"Talk fast. I'm in no mood for excuses." I still can't see the man's face through the shadows, only the soft gleam of his weapon.
"Woah, hold up!" Another voice drifts up from the dark hole, incredulous. A beefy-looking man with greasy brown hair and a scruffy beard raises his head from the entrance set in the ground, rubbing his eyes. "It can't be..."
"Enna Price?" The first man sticks his head into view and widens his eyes. He is older than I would have expected, with a gray comb-over and a jutting chin. "Well pull my leg and call me Jenny!"
"You... You know who I am?" I ask, almost dizzy with relief.
"What are you talking about? You're the face of the Government! Of course I know who you are!"
    It strikes me that everyone believes I have gone over to the other side now. I must act accordingly. The older man lowers his gun and I feel myself start to relax. For the first time, I notice the odd clothes that he wears: a sharp, pressed suit with long sleeves and some sort of adornment tied around the neck, resting on top of his chest. He speaks over his shoulder to the younger, wild-looking man.
"Dwayne, alert Mr. Burbank at once." The bearded man salutes casually and starts to descend what I presume to be a ladder. A musty smell drifts out of the opening, and I'm suddenly reminded of the trapdoor that led to the Depot.
"Are you alone, Ms. Price?" He asks, squinting and peering into the dark green shadows pressing in on my body.
"No, sir," I reply calmly, trying to sound as much like Fake Enna as possible. It's my best bet as far as staying alive within the next several minutes. "I've been... uh... traveling for publicity and I came across my old comrades. The ones I abandoned. They tried to flee at my sight so I followed them here... Wherever this is."
"You don't mind if I introduce you to Mr. Burbank, do you?" The man says with a slight edge to his voice. I get the faint impression that I don't have much of a choice.
"Not at all," I reply smoothly. "Though my people may worry when I don't return ..."
"I'm sure they can manage," he says, raising the weapon again. My eyes widen slightly, against my own volition. He shrugs somewhat apologetically. "Standard protocol."
I glance at Matthew before following the older man down the tunnel; he nods almost imperceptibly. Descending the ladder is a lot harder than I thought it might be. The tunnel slopes slightly forward and each metal step is slippery with the rainwater from my shoes. The complete darkness gives way to bright, blinding lights placed evenly along the stone wall. I can see my friends above me now. Victoria is last; she must have closed the doorway. Hopefully it's still well-hidden.
"Do you know where we are?" The older man asks, slightly out of breath. The way his voice echoes gives me reason to think that he is much farther down the ladder than I am. I don't risk looking back at him.
"No clue," I reply, focusing on gripping the ladder rungs. "Some sort of control center?"
"Nice guess," he replies. It takes several minutes more before I reach the stony bottom. The older man trains the point of his gun at me while Matthew, Victoria and Gale descend the last few steps. The air starts to smell sickly sweet, contrasting with the damp aroma of the tunnel. I nervously run a hand through my hair, instantly remembering that I'm drenched.
"Don't worry. We'll take care of you," he says casually, as if he weren't pointing a gun at me.
"Is this a resistance?" Gale asks. The man doesn't reply. Instead, he starts to lead us through another brightly lit tunnel, walking backwards so he can face us. The air feels oddly warm, like we're not several yards underground.
"If anything starts to look dangerous," Matthew whispers from behind, "I'll rush him. You take the others and escape." I swallow hard. Hopefully it won't come to that. It shouldn't if I play my part well.
"It's lucky you found us," the man calls, smiling jovially. "Did you come straight from an interview, or something?"
"Uh... yeah."
"Boy, you've been through a lot, haven't you?" I don't have to lie to answer this question.
"Yes, sir." This is the oddest hostage/captor situation I've ever been involved with! Why am I being treated like an enemy and an ally at the same time? Maybe I am viewed as the ally while Matthew, Gale, and Victoria are not... That must be it. Maybe he thinks my safety has some reckoning power among my comrades. The tunnel goes on for a couple more yards before ending at a locked metal door. The man opens it and leads us into an enormous vestibule. A tall, cylindrical room with walls made of windows allows for me to peer into countless offices and rooms. Small tables on tracks shuttle around food, clothes, toiletries, and other supplies. People dressed in an assortment of suits swarm up one escalator, others down another. I notice that they all have something in common: old age. Matthew elbows me slightly and nods towards a blank spot of concrete wall far above me, where an old, painted logo chips away. It reads: THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT. Goose bumps rise along my arms. The government?
"Nice, isn't it? It's hard to believe that we've managed to stick around this long." I force myself to swallow my shock and look somewhat authoritative. I'm supposed to lead an entire country, not gawk at every underground society I come into contact with.
"Quite impressive." I straighten my spine. "Though I can't say I'm pleased with our hospitality so far." Our original captor/escort lowers the gun half an inch, but keeps his arms tense. He shrugs apologetically.
"Boss's order."
"I'd like to seek counsel with your boss."
"In due time. In due time..."
Matthew, Gale, Victoria and I gather in the middle of the lobby area, watching the activities of the government workers with muted interest. A few of them stop and gawk at me. Some whisper at each other. I can almost hear their shocked mutters: "Is that Enna Price?" "What's she doing here?" Matthew scowls and glares around at the people who stare at me. I notice, somewhat accidentally, that many of them send glances towards Matthew. The older man regards us with surprise.
"Not used to the popularity yet?" Awkwardly, I shake my head. Maybe I shouldn't show weakness... But, then again, maybe a little dose of humanity is what people need to believe my disguise. Fake Enna's small smiles, shared glances... They somehow make her more believable. More real. I'm suddenly snapped out of my stupor when I see the bearded guard heading towards us. The corners of his eyes crinkle up at the corners in a smile.
"Mr. Burbank will see them immediately in the Red Ballroom." He says, slipping some sort of greenish paper into the older man's fingers. Our original captor stuffs the gift into his pocket and starts to lead the way to our next destination. I follow, head held high. We walk through glass-walled hallways and corridors that twist the light around us. Occasionally a wolf-whistle follows me: I force myself to ignore them, a sick taste in my mouth.
"Sorry everything's been so secretive," the man mumbles. I wave a discarding hand through the air.
"Understandable. I know that my appearance was quite sudden and startling. My comrades and I thank you for taking such good care of us." He beams, as if being thanked by me is the most thrilling thing that's ever happened to him. Before long, we enter an enormous hall lined with gargantuan doors. Each door leads to an elegant ballroom. Some men and women in suits cluster together in the middle of the hall and gossip while others keep to themselves, grimly clutching briefcases.
"Remember, anything crazy..." Matthew whispers. I nod and glance back at Gale and Victoria, who observe the proceedings with a mixture of disdain and alarm. Our escort stops just outside of the doorway at the very end of the hall, bowing us into the room. I self-consciously brush through the knots in my hair with my fingers. Who knows who we're about to meet! It might turn out to be a powerful Executive, or a ruthless military leader... Maybe it's another Reptilian. I shake my head and force air into my lungs, struggling to forget the awful creature that had brought me so near to my demise. I have trouble working up courage. Matthew squeezes my hand, and I make one last effort to steel myself.
I round the corner and walk into the room as slowly as possible, surveying the new surroundings. No wonder they call this the Red Ballroom. The floor is made of a rich maroon wood, the walls adorned with crimson curtains and veils. There are no windows. Low diamond chandeliers provide light for the room, hanging over a round glass table. One man sits at the table, facing us with clasped hands. A resounding thud echoes off of the cavernous walls as the doors close behind us.
"Welcome, Enna. Please, join me." I rub my sweaty palms on my rain-soaked pants and lead the others towards the glass table. Up close, I notice that the man has white, wispy hair and a frail build. Wrinkles and dark spots interrupt the otherwise smooth stretches of skin upon his face. He wears a gray suit. Silently, I pull up an ornamented chair. Matthew, Gale, and Victoria follow suit.
"Impressive operation you have here," I mutter. "I'm glad I could stop by." The man inclines his head gratefully.
"I do try, Ms. Price." He extends a hand and smiles wearily. "My name is Calvin Burbank. I'm the former President of the United States." I don't necessarily know what being President entails, but I don't dare linger too long on the subject.
"Interesting. I've never heard of you before..."
"Oh, many have. Though they may not remember ever hearing about me." Burbank sets his square jaw and leans in close to the table. His blue eyes sparkle with the reflection of the diamond chandelier. "I've been waiting to meet you, Ms. Price."
"I'm flattered. I've been so very busy lately, between my press excursions--"
"Enna." He lowers his voice. "I know who you are." I stop short in the middle of my response. Fear forms a crackling force field around my brain. I glance at Matthew, noticing the tightened muscles in his arms and torso. Gale and Victoria share panicked glances.
"What do you mean?" I choke, throat dry. So much for a convincing cover! Burbank grabs a remote control from under the table and points it at the wall to my right. A projection instantly lights up the wall like a television screen. The person televised is Fake Enna. She speaks to the camera from a podium, back straightened and straightened hair brushing against her cheekbones as she talks. The bottom of the screen reads: "Enna Price--Live!".
"Could you explain to me how one person can be two places at once? It's such a lovely trick. In fact, I didn't know it was possible at all."
"What do you want?" Matthew demands, leaning forward restlessly. Burbank raises his hands innocently.
"Mr. Elliot, I ask for nothing more than a fair, honest conversation between two so-called criminals."
"You're a criminal?" I ask.
"Of the state. And so are you. And so are they." Burbank nods towards Gale and Victoria. "But that's beside the point. The point is that everyone thinks you are running the country."
"Yeah, I've picked up on that." I mutter flatly. Who is this guy? Who is he really?
"I know that you and your friends have been through quite the ordeal. It would be my pleasure if you let my people take care of you indefinitely."
"No offense, but who are you?" Victoria asks, her eyebrows squeezing together. "A bunch of strangers stumble into your hideout and you offer them protection?"
"Not protection," the man says, raising his eyebrows. "Shelter."
"Same thing," Victoria mutters, eyes narrowing. Burbank sits up in his seat and shakes his head.
"Silly old man, I've been avoiding answering your question. Who am I? I am the American President, as I formerly told you. This is my home." He gestures at the large, empty ballroom spreading out around him.
"President?" Gale speaks up, voice hoarse. "What does that mean?"
"Several years ago, before the world went to war and the country was split into ten Regions, my administration and I governed the fifty States of America. The economy was collapsing. People revolted. Things were not going well. You see, there was a certain level of deceit and secrecy within my administration, and several citizens began to sense that something was amiss. They were labeled as crazy, of course, but their distrust was well-placed nonetheless." He scratches his balding head. "Have you learned anything about the Hidden Allies?" We all nod grimly.
"Too much," Victoria whispers.
"I had formed negotiations with them, just like all of the Presidents before me. That was the only choice I had, other than placing my country into irreparable destruction and fear. Their leader kept asking for more and more test subject allocations, and I kept giving them to him. Eventually he became so greedy, and so many citizens grew suspicious about the surplus of metaphorical faces on milk cartons, that other globally-recognized leaders and I decided to share the existence of the Hidden Allies with the world." I remember the story Victoria had told me in one of the Base's prison cells: the Hidden Allies spurred the world to resort to fighting, and then RScreens were implemented to make everyone forget about the war and the Reptilians, causing them to forget basic human traits in the process. For the first time in a while, I remember when Matthew had told me what being plugged in felt like. Like you weren't alive at all.
"Sounds cowardly," I mutter. The President suddenly looks much smaller in my eyes. Matthew sends me daggers with his gaze, but I ignore him. "You'd rather give up millions of innocent lives than face the Master yourself? You have whole armies! Couldn't you have just raided the Base?"
"You have no idea the stress I was under," Burbank insists, blue eyes bright with passion. "I'm surprised that I didn't drop dead of a heart attack!"
"What happened next?" Matthew urges, his mouth a thin, pale line. I can tell that he's losing his patience with the old man.
"Many of the people under me who worked closely with the Hidden Allies were gaining the creatures' trust. I don't know how; through bribes, probably. The Reptilians rose into positions of power, against my knowledge of course. To my ignorance, many of my own people were plotting to help them overthrow me." He spreads his fingers wide. "And they did. I was forced to resign publicly--through television and RScreen--and to never let my face be seen again. I gathered my last few loyal followers and hid in this underground bunker. The Hidden Allies became the new ruling power, hidden behind the face of democracy. 'You stinky Republican! You lousy Democrat!' Or how about socialist, or communist, or humanitarian! All of these titles acted as rubber bullets; divisions of the American people that really served as facades for the true order of things."
"You don't sound like much of a leader to me," Matthew growls, balling his hands into tight fists on top of the table. "What leader lets himself get pushed aside like that?"
"I've told you already!" President Burbank's eyes grow cold and angry. They make his face look much darker than before. He must have been a very imposing man in his prime. "You children have no idea what you're really facing." A surge of anger forces its way through my throat and I almost snarl. I pull the collar of my shirt down to expose the base of my neck. The healing gash I received from the Master stands out, prominent as ever, against my pale skin.
"I'd beg to differ." The President stares at me for a moment, then his eyes grow soft.
"Enna... I apologize. I had forgotten how much you've been through--"
"I don't want your pity," I say quickly. "I just want to know what the hell is going on. Why did you want to see us?"
"I wanted to see you. When I first heard of you, heard of how you escaped your Graduation Ceremony... I was inspired, to say the least. It heartened me to hear about someone so young who felt secure in her morals." Despite myself, I feel a blush rise on my cheeks. "Ever since that moment, I've wanted to meet you."
The double doors at the end of the room burst apart and a waiter glides into the room.
"Hungry?" The President asks suddenly. I shake my head, even though I feel like I could eat an elephant. The others refuse the waiter's service as well. "You're sure?" Burbank orders a salmon filet for himself and glasses of fresh water with lemon for the rest of us.
"Ah, where were we?" He asks politely, as if he's reading off of a script. It only takes him a moment to remember. "Yes, well... I know this will sound like quite a shock, but I would like you to work for me, Enna."
"What? Work for you?" I splutter. A million thoughts run through my mind. "What about your servants and employees? Wouldn't I still have to pretend that I'm the cloned version of myself?"
"Yes, but it can't be that hard! And none of them have access to the outside world except for what I allow them to see. It would be simple to keep this little detail from them."
"Hold on." Gale shoots furtive glances between me and President Burbank. "What is this all about? Why do you want Enna?" Matthew's jaw clenches and unclenches as he stares at the table. He breathes hard.
"Enna is strong-willed and independent. I'm weak. I'm old. When the time comes that I can no longer run this administration, I need a proving young candidate that will easily be able to fill my shoes. Maybe, under Enna's guidance, the United States can become as glorious as it once was!" I stare at the emphatic President, shocked. This person that I barely know is counting on me to carry on the United States' legacy? I can hardly manage to stay out of trouble for a couple of hours, let alone years! But then again, taking his offer would practically guarantee my friends and I a lifetime of safety. If the Hidden Allies are pretending that the President is nonexistent, they wouldn't actively search him out, right? And the Mothership is destroyed. We're practically dead to the rest of the world! Burbank narrows his eyes as if he's in pain. "I normally wouldn't ask this of someone so young, but the Reptilians are gaining ground. Their true agenda is far darker than it may appear, even from your perspective. We need you as a weapon to combat the enemy and win over the public--" Matthew slams a fist so hard on the table that a small crack splits the glass. I jump in my seat, startled.
"She. Is not. A weapon." He spits slowly and dangerously, glaring at Burbank. I regard him carefully. I can't remember a time that I've seen him so angry. His hazel eyes look almost red in the glare of the ballroom floor.
"Matthew." I whisper, placing a calming hand on his forearm. He brushes it off, ignoring me.
"I don't care who you are, or were. Stop treating her like a commodity. Trust me, I know what you're doing. I've seen this before with politicians. She's a person, and she has better things to do than be brainwashed by your sob story. You were a coward. You failed. End of story." He stands up and strides towards the double doors.
"Oh dear," Burbank mumbles. I watch Matthew leave. Upset, I stand to follow him, but Burbank sighs heavily and shakes his head.
"I want to talk to him," I argue.
"Sit down, Enna. Let him cool off." Gale and Victoria stare at me awkwardly. Was Matthew right? Am I really just viewed as a weapon to these people, a means to an end? Uncomfortable, I sink back into my seat and brush together a small pile of glass shards.
"Sorry about the table," I mutter. The President waves a wrinkled hand.
"Don't mention it. I was meaning to replace it with a larger one anyhow." A tense silence passes through the room, then Victoria sighs.
"I don't mean to be rude, but we've been through a lot today. Would you mind showing us the way to a bedroom?" She stands and politely folds her hands on the back of her chair. Her hair hangs over her shoulders in straight, wet strands that drip onto her padded seat.
"Of course, of course! You all need some time to rest and clean up." Gale and I join Victoria, stretching out our legs. President Burbank calls for one of his servants. The older man who originally welcomed us into the base rounds the corner. "My second-in-command, Brandon, will show you to your rooms." We walk towards the doors, but Burbank holds me back as Gale and Victoria exit the room with Brandon.
"I know you have some sense, Ms. Price. Contrary to what your boyfriend believes..." He sighs. "Harming you is the last thing on my mind. Forgive an old man for his romantic ideals, but... I still believe that things can get better, don't you?" I force myself to remain calm.
"I used to hope too, Mr. President. We all did." I break his grip on my arm and stride towards the door.
"Just think about it!" He calls after me, his voice limp and full of regret.