Page 15

A strange tightness grips my chest, a ghost of an emotion pushing against the NeuroMods control. “It sounds beautiful,” I murmur.

For a moment, I catch a flicker of something raw and unguarded in Ziva’s gaze. My heart rate spikes, warmth spreading through me as a longing I didn’t know I had rises.

“It does, doesn’t it?” she whispers, more to herself than to us.

Ziva’s expression softens, her shoulders relaxing as a tentative smile begins to form. It’s like watching a flower bloom in fast motion, each petal of curiosity and wonder unfurling before my eyes.

“But if emotions were so powerful,” Ziva asks, leaning forward, “why did people let them be silenced?”

Grandma’s smile falters as she rests her hands on the armrests of her chair. “It wasn’t all at once, dear. Little by little, they convinced us it was for our own good. Safety. Stability. Progress.”

The words land like a punch. I’ve heard them a thousand times in Harmonization Authority propaganda, but coming from Grandma, they sound hollow, sinister.

“We can’t let this continue,” I blurt out, surprising even myself with the intensity in my voice. “There has to be a way to fight back.”

Ziva’s eyes lock onto mine, blazing with a newfound determination. “You’re right,” she says, her energy rising. “We can’t just accept this. We need to do something.”

I feel a surge of…something. Not quite an emotion, thanks to my damned NeuroMod, but a sense of connection, of shared purpose. It’s intoxicating. Ziva is intoxicating.

Grandma reaches out across the armchair, taking my hand in hers. “You two,” she says, her voice thick with emotion that I know will be gone in a moment, “you give me hope. But be careful. The path you’re considering is a dangerous one.”

Squeezing her hand, I notice how Ziva is watching us intently. “We will be,” I promise. “But we can’t back down now.”

Ziva’s eyes dart between Grandma Elara and me, her fingers twitching nervously at her sides. She takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I have to tell you something,” Ziva blurts out, her words tumbling over each other in a rush. “Yesterday, when I was working on the NeuroMods, there was a glitch. Mine malfunctioned, and so did the one I was repairing.”

My heart races, even as my NeuroMod struggles to dampen the surge of adrenaline. “What do you mean, malfunctioned?” I ask, leaning towards her on the sofa.

Is this why she’s been acting so strange?

Ziva’s eyes are wide, her cheeks flush, the thrill of vulnerability in her voice. “I’ve been experiencing full emotions since then. Everything. It’s overwhelming and terrifying and… beautiful.”

She has her emotions back.

Grandma’s hand flies to her mouth, eyes brimming with tears. “Oh, my god,” she whispers.

“That’s not all,” Ziva continues, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper. “I’ve been working to replicate the glitch. I’m so close to figuring it out. If I can, we could free others and show them what it’s like to truly feel again.”

My chest tightens, an emotion tugging at the edges of the NeuroMods control. “Ziva, that’s incredibly dangerous,” I say, even as part of me thrills at the possibility at being able to feel freely.

Grandma Elara rises from her armchair and shuffles over to sit beside Ziva on the sofa, taking Ziva’s hands in hers. Her eyes are filled with a fire I’ve rarely seen.

“Ziva, listen to me,” she says, her voice low and urgent. “What you’re experiencing now, it’s precious. It’s who you truly are, beneath all the control and regulation.”

Ziva nods, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Grandma continues, “Embrace these emotions, every single one. They’re your birthright, your humanity. And if you can find a way to share that with others, to fight for a world where we can all feel freely again…”

She trails off, her face slowly becoming blank as her NeuroMod doses her with suppressants. For a moment, Elara’s expression turns to one of confusion, as if she had suddenly lost her train of thought.

Ziva’s face hardens, fear giving way to burning determination as her jaw tightens. “I will,” she says fiercely. “We will. Whatever it takes.”

Looking at Ziva, I see the raw emotion on her face. A wave of longing washes over me, something I didn’t know I was capable of. To experience real connection, to be alive. In that moment, I know that I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

My NeuroMod vibrates in warning.

I swallow, my chest tight as a lump forms in my throat. “Ziva,” I say, my voice hoarse, “I’m with you. All the way.”

My hands tremble slightly as I reach out to her, hesitating before gently grasping her shoulder. The warmth of her skin seeps through the fabric of her uniform and I feel a flicker of something stirring within me. “We’ll figure this out. Whatever it takes to escape this…this numbness.”

Ziva’s eyes lock onto mine, an ocean of raw emotion reflected in her gaze. “Myall,” she whispers, her voice thick with gratitude. “I… I don’t know what to say. I’ve never felt so…so…”

“Alive?” I offer, thinking back to our conversation the other night.

She nods, a single tear escaping down her cheek. I hold back from wiping the tear away, feeling the weight of her vulnerability.

Grandma Elara watches us, her weathered face creased with a knowing smile. “My dears,” she says softly, “you give an old woman hope. Hope for a future I thought lost forever when your parents died.”

A pang of sadness fills my chest as Elara mentions my parents.

She has always been so open about their deaths in the resistance, but I can’t help wondering, if she truly felt the full extent of her emotions, would she still be able to speak so openly about it if she could feel the true pain of their loss?

Ziva turns to her on the sofa, clasping Elara’s wrinkled hands in her own. “Elara, I can’t thank you enough,” she says fervently. “Your stories, your wisdom… they’ve shown me what’s possible. What we’ve lost, and what we could regain.”

Something passes between them, a connection deeper than words.

I clear my throat, reluctant to interrupt the moment but mindful of the time. “We should go,” I say softly. “But Grandma, we’d like to come back. Maybe…once a week on our day off? To check on you, of course.”

Ziva’s eyes light up, catching onto my plan. “Yes, we’d love to visit regularly. If that’s alright with you, Elara?”

Grandma’s knowing smile widens. “Nothing would bring me more joy, dears. My door is always open to you both.”

We schedule our first weekly visit to Grandma Elara’s cottage for the next week, on the day Ziva and I share off. Before we leave, she gives us both a tight hug.

As we step out into the fading light, the city’s oppressive atmosphere seems less stifling. Ziva walks close beside me, her fingers occasionally brushing mine. The contact sends a fluttering feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Once a week,” Ziva says. “A safe place where we can speak freely, plan our next moves.”

Nodding, I scan the emptying street for prying eyes or ears. “It’s perfect. No one would question us visiting my sick grandmother on our day off.”

It’s an ideal arrangement. Ziva and I have shared shifts for years, meaning we always have the same day off. It will provide us with a whole day each week to spend together, and I find myself looking forward to our next day off.

We walk in comfortable silence, my eyes occasionally drifting toward Ziva. I marvel at the subtle changes in her demeanor. Her steps are lighter, her eyes brighter. Even with my muted emotions, I feel a warmth spreading through my chest.

As we near Ziva’s living complex, she turns to me. “Myall,” she says, her voice low so that it doesn’t carry into the night. “Today… it changed everything for me. I feel like I’m truly awake for the first time.”

I swallow hard, fighting against the artificial calm of my NeuroMod. “I know,” I reply. “Grandma’s stories, they’ve always affected me, but seeing you experience them… it’s different. More real somehow.”

Ziva reaches out, her fingers ghosting over my wrist where my NeuroMod pulses steadily. “Soon,” she promises. “Soon you’ll experience it all too. We’ll bring down this whole system, Myall. Together.”

I nod, unable to find words to match the fire in her eyes. As she disappears into her building, I’m left standing in the growing shadows, my mind filled with possibilities of what it would be like to experience love for the very first time.