Night after night, Chimma met him, and they both tried everything they could think of to free him. At last, Chimma found that when she touched the release on both wrists at the same time, the wire mesh of his braces turned into loose-fitting gloves, and she could slide them off his hands. Moving his fingers and raising his arms had never felt so luxurious!

  “There seems to be a similar pad at the back of your pod. I’ve put my fingers on it every way I can think of, but it just won’t release.”

  Their conversations moved to what her life was like – at least, once she'd told him to use the key words to help her want to. Then she shared stories about all her mistakes in trying to adapt to life Over the Hill.

  One night, he nearly burst out laughing at her stories when another Greyman was near. So Denzin commanded Chimma to use the key words on him so she could silence him if it wasn't safe.

  The following night, she told him, “Hush, it’s not safe.”

  A burst of fear brought his verbal flow to an abrupt halt. Which meant he gave a completely silent gasp as a Tall walked by on the other side of the street.

  Once they had gone, Chimma said, “It’s safe, Denz.”

  “Do you have any idea who that just was?” he asked her, his heart pounding like hail in a suddenly. “That was my yassing sister! That was Kayda!”

  “She’s in the dorm I sleep in now, near the Checkpoint Caff where I work. What’s she doing out after Curfew?”

  “No idea. Just be careful. I know she’s my sister, but I don’t trust her.”

  In the Arena one afternoon as his mask was put back on, DEN003 was informed that there had not been enough rubbish and dirt in his bin. The mechanism must be faulty. Therefore, DEN003’s hand was clamped to the pole again. Not just one night, but two nights in a row, this time.

  Being the end of November, the sun was gone now for nearly fifteen hours at a time. With the messages continually playing in his ear, he had no choice but to spend the whole fifteen hours in the darkness of the Arena desperately trying to drive straight as his pod incessantly circled that yassing pole. DEN003’s gratitude for the care of his Pandrakon grew in depth and strength as the messages were laid down over and over again, despite feeling like his shoulders were about to dislocate. At least his Helper switched hands the second night. Both shoulders were badly strained by the end of the ordeal. But he was grateful for how much his Pandrakon cared for him! So grateful! So grateful, in fact, that DEN003 would do anything for him. Absolutely anything.

  Strangely, they never could find the fault in his bin. And DEN003 was grateful for his long nights in the Arena and for his Helpers – a spring of gratitude welled up and overflowed within him like he’d never experienced before! He was grateful for his life as a Greyman, being able to serve his Pendraken. With all his heart, DEN003 dedicated his life to serving his Pendraken. And somehow, he believed them that driving for fifteen hours at a time was rest.

  At least until his mask popped off of his face. Well, it took a bit longer than that. After more than two days straight of the gas and the messaging with no interruptions, Chimma had to start from scratch in finding Denzin again underneath the brainwashing that turned him into DEN003.

  Another night, after putting the mask back on him, Chimma told him, “Remember this: you have legs and when it is safe to do so, you will be able to use them again. Remember this: you want to get out of that pod, and you want to figure out how.”

  But he’d spent the whole day in angry dreams about being in the pod, and since he’d woken up, he had been in a rage, desperately trying to prise his body out. It was only his love – fear – of the Helpers that calmed him enough to hold his cup to eat.

  “It was easier to cope before you told me that,” he complained to Chimma. “Please undo it! I’ll go crazy!”

  So before he left, she told him, “Denzin, remember this: you will forget everything I have ever commanded you to remember before this. But you must always, always remember this: you are Denzin Walker, no matter what anyone else tell you. Remember this: listen to Senda’s Voice and obey him over every other voice. And,” she stopped, her left hand lingering on the front of his pod as it always did when she wasn’t using it, now, “Remember this: I am here to help you. Always remember that I am here to help you.”

  As he watched, a slight glaze came over her eyes as she repeated those words. That glaze he knew all too well. Masked, there was now nothing he could do about it but watch her message take hold in her own highly susceptible mind and root itself there even more deeply than it did in his. She had just locked herself into always helping him. And the effects of the gas in his own lungs drove that into his own yassing brain, too. She would always be there to help him. He knew it.

  DEN003 tried to work out what that would mean as the electric shocks escorted him Home and he made his way to his Bed.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  For that was his Home and that was his Bed as surely as his name was DEN003. Yet before sleep completely took him, he heard the Voice. Senda told him to trust Chimma. He knew beyond knowing that he was to obey Senda above all other voices, and just as strongly that Chimma was there to help him. And obeying Chimma’s command to obey Senda’s command to trust her? That was as sure as the night sky was black.

  Days and weeks continued to lengthen the nights. Denzin’s trust of Chimma deepened accordingly. He was more honest with her than he had ever been with anyone – even himself! Sometimes, he was as surprised by what he admitted to her as she was.

  Fear had driven so much of his life. It was only when he turned seven that he had realised why they had to draw a birthmark between his eyebrows every morning. For to survive, he needed to pass as a designed.

  Ever since that moment, he had lived in the fear of being found out.

  His whole body quaked as he admitted it out loud. And then he heard the Voice speaking deep inside of him.

  ‘You were indeed designed, my Child. But not by them. By me.’

  It took Denzin a few minutes to find his own voice again after that. When he told her what Senda had said, Chimma grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Then she unlocked the mask from her face so she could speak.

  “Of course you are. I never doubted that for a moment!”

  As they moved into the next alley, the moon broke through the clouds, throwing a silver glaze over Chimma’s face. Dark circles hung beneath her eyes. And she fought to keep them open. These nights that were a lifeline for him were taking a huge toll on her. He waved his free hand, and his friend took the mask from his face. He took a few deep breaths to clear his mind as her mouth was grabbed by the mask.

  “How have I not seen this before? Look at you! You’re exhausted! You’re awake, working in the Over and studying when I’m asleep. And then I keep you awake all night. No, sorry! You can look up again. I didn’t mean that literally,” he added, as she obediently looked down at her body instead of where she was going, and tripped over the kerb. “I can’t do this to you, Chim. Maybe we should meet every other night. Or, because the nights are so long now, maybe for only part of the night.”

  She shook her head frantically, then removed the mask.

  “But I don’t want to miss any time with you!” she protested. When he frowned, she admitted, “But you are right, I guess. I fell asleep standing up at work today. Maybe I should go home before you do.”

  “How well will that work in reality? Will you be able to make yourself say goodbye, turn around and walk away?” Denzin said.

  Her eyebrows scrunched up around her birthmark – such a cute birthmark, she had. “But how can I help you get free if I’m not here? We need all they time we can get.”

  “Here, put the mask back on for a second. Let’s try something.”

  Once she’d complied – as always, now, much too quickly, too fervently for his liking – Denzin thought carefully. She was far more susceptible to this than he was. He needed to do this ever so carefully. Yet he was well aware that being careful with his words was almost always well beyond his ability. He prayed to Senda for help, and instructed her take a few deep breaths.

  “Remember this, Chimma: when you lie down to sleep, you will find sleep quickly, and wake rested at the right time. Remember this: you will sleep well each night, and wake up in time to meet me three hours before sunrise, until either I tell you otherwise, or I haven’t been there to meet you for three days in a row.” If something happened to him, he didn’t want her bound to that for the rest of her life. He repeated it. And again.

  He was about to tell her to remove the mask, but more words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. “Chimma, remember this: you are never to sacrifice your own freedom for mine.”

  Denzin knew he needed to stop, but his heart poured through his lips like water down a storm drain during a suddenly.

  “Because I love you, Chim. I love you too much to let you do that. Remember this: you cannot sacrifice your freedom for mine because I love you too much to let you.”

  Knowing how foolish it was, he threw himself into the No-Man’s Zone of his heart and said it again. And again. “Now take some nice, deep breaths and let that sink in.” She complied, drawing the deepest breaths she could, sucking the gas into her lungs, locking those words into place as he repeated them yet again. He found himself taking deep breaths, as well. Then he told her to remove the mask.

  Her voice was barely more than a broken whisper. “Oh, Denz, you shouldn’t have done that. You really shouldn’t have.”

  “Too late,” he replied innocently. “Which bit?”

  “Not sacrificing myself. How did you know that’s what I was thinking of doing?”

  “I can’t let you do that. Ever. And you know why.”

  Her eyes were still slightly glazed. The gas was still having its effect on her.

  Those words were rattling around inside his own head, as well. He shook his head but that only made them click into place. He loved her.

  Of course he did. He had loved her for far longer than he’d let himself admit it. Now, there was no more denial possible. And because he loved her, there was no way on earth he could ever let her sacrifice herself.

  “You have to stay safe, Chimma,” he insisted. “You have to keep yourself safe, no matter what. You can’t risk yourself, even if it means disobeying something I’ve told you to do. Now, put my braces and mask back on. I’ve just had the first shock.” She obeyed far too quickly.

  The next night – and every night after that – Chimma had turned up exactly three hours before sunrise. There were now just two and a half hours to spend together until the shocks called him Home each night. His nights were so much lonelier. And she looked so much more rested.

  The long Winner nights settled into a routine. DEN003 spent long hours alone as he gratefully scrubbed his assigned alleys Under the Hill. The alleys and streets were now ice-covered and needed gritting, meaning there was more to do in those hours. The drive to serve his beloved Pendraken grew exponentially, pushing him to keep cleaning even when there was nothing left to do. He pushed himself to his limit, working as quickly as his pod, that always went at the right speed, would allow him.

  Each night, he was searching ever more frantically to find some tiny speck of dirt to clear away when Chimma found him and removed his mask. Once he could speak again, they would talk as he cleaned, taking turns wearing the mask, swapping frequently, as they planned carefully how to use the one precious hour they set aside each night to work on finding the key to his release.

  But every night, it look a little bit longer for her to find Denzin, trapped somewhere inside DEN003.