A Fortress of Pebbles

“How was the dump?” said Orion, petting the purple vine that lounged on the shoulders of Cassandra’s flannel.

“Did you wash your hands?” said Cassandra.

Yes, the mind pebbles were working perfectly. By wiping their memories and re-exiting the bathroom, she had established a phenomenon that the Master of Mind called a “behavior/context loop.” Technical term. The idea was that people behave the same way if you put them back into exactly the same context – same external environment, same internal state. Wipe their memories, and they say and do exactly what they did before.

Of course, the environment wasn’t exactly the same. Tassadu was making that face he makes when crunching the numbers on whether something is ethical. And the vine pets on the twin’s shoulders were the tiniest bit bigger, still evolving. And the kids were, no doubt, a little bit hungrier, a little bit more tired. Context was hard to control. Still, it was enough.

Aissaba bent down to their level, adopting her friendly aunt demeanor. But with a serious edge. “I want to ask the two of you something really important.”

“About dumps?” said Orion, which triggered Cassandra’s giggles.

“Not dumps,” said Aissaba, very solemnly. “Tassadu and I are aware that you know something you’re not telling us.”

The giggles stopped immediately. Cassandra gave a look to Orion that (in the Aissaba/Tassadu language) was pretty much equivalent to Don’t you dare say anything. Then, Cassandra said innocently, “I’m sure there are lots of things we haven’t told you.”

“You knew about the Fortress before you got here,” said Aissaba. The nice thing about a behavior/context loop was that you could take risks. If she overstepped, she could simply restart.

Cassandra looked surprised. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“You’re a very good actress, Cassandra,” said Aissaba. “Seriously, I’m impressed. You could win that thing they have on Earth.”

“Academy Awards?” said Orion, earning him a dig from Cassandra’s elbow.

“Yeah, those!” said Aissaba. She fixed Cassandra with a very serious look and counted to three in her mind. To Cassandra’s lavender eyes, the morning dew arrived. It made Aissaba’s heart ache, which meant that Tassadu probably felt like there were knives in all of his stomachs. Still, Aissaba dropped the bomb: “When you were in the bathroom in the Hall of Life, we heard you tell your brother, ‘They can’t make us stay if we don’t want to.’ So…” She trailed off, trying to insinuate that she knew more than she did.

It wasn’t as if Aissaba had experience interrogating children. But she’d been on the receiving end of interrogations enough times to know the basics. Once (much to her chagrin) she’d been coaxed into admitting the theft of six bottles of Earth wine from Tassadu’s not-dad – all because he’d convinced her that he already knew. Only later, sitting in solitary confinement with the world’s worst hangover, had it occurred to her that she’d been outmaneuvered.

Whatever. Time to repeat the cycle.

Cassandra was doing a pretty good job of blinking back the tears. “I told you, we have issues. We say things that don’t make sense.”

“Cassandra, we know that your mom knows about the Fortress,” said Aissaba, increasing the pressure. Orion’s eyes were on his shoes, holding his breath. Both of the vine pets were trembling, as if feeling the tension in the air. Aissaba turned the screws tighter: “For your mother’s sake, I need you to tell me what she told you.”

Tassadu’s jaw dropped, horrified. She tried to give him back a look that said Apocalypse risk, buddy!

It was Orion that cracked. “Mom doesn’t know anything about the Fortress!” he cried. “She just always says this… thing.”

Cassandra would have tackled him if Aissaba hadn’t seized her. The girl was like a tornado, every bit as violent as the one she had summoned in the Room of Sand. Somehow, Aissaba managed to wrap one arm around the girl’s waist. With her other hand, she snatched a mind pebble and tapped Cassandra’s head with it, zonking her out.

Orion stood there, looking terrified and alone, while his sister swayed, asleep on her feet. Tassadu started to say something about how this had gone far enough, but Aissaba cut in, “Orion, tell us. What does your mom say?”

He reached out to touch his sister. She didn’t respond, but the vine pet on her shoulders chirped reassuringly.

“Orion, it’s okay. Your mom and sister will be fine,” said Aissaba, hating herself. “We just need you to tell us.”