3) What does 143 mean/
If it’s your way of telling ne we’re over, sorry boyo, but it’s not going tp work out for you.
Conduit-in-training,
Ten Lockwood
TROIKA
* * *
From: Mailer-Erratum
To: T_L_2/23.43.2 K_F_5/23.53.6
Subject: THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN DEEMED UNDELIVERABLE
A report of this exchange has been sent to your superior, General Levi Nanne.
chapter seven
* * *
“What you seek, you will find. Good or bad.”
—Troika
For over a week, I practice with my Shell, a plethora of Whells/weapons and my teammates at all hours of the day and night, driven by unwavering determination. Several Generals stop by periodically to watch my progress, or lack thereof. Alejandro, who I’d swear was an Italian model in his Firstlife. Luciana, who is short, curvy and covered in adorable freckles. Shamus, who is the epitome of a Scottish warrior. And Ying Wo, who is as graceful as a sunbeam.
Each of the Generals oversees a different part of Troikan security and well-being. Everything from war planning to communications to the well-being of our citizens. They are the leading experts in their fields.
But no pressure for me to perform without error, right?
Every day Levi says, “Take my hands. Send a stream of Light to me through the Grid.” Every day I fail, and frustration is riding me hard.
In what little spare time I have, I read the Book of the Law. If there’s power in knowledge and strength in consistency, I’m going to be the strongest, most powerful girl ever to live!
Confession: half the time I don’t understand what I’m reading.
Page one states: The law does not define your life. The condition of our heart does that. You can only walk in the Light you know. Never violate your Light.
So the laws aren’t as important as our intentions...or the laws are just as important as our intentions, but if we mean well, we’ll be forgiven for our mistakes? And how do you violate Light? Doing the wrong thing when you know what the right thing is? Or simply doing the wrong thing?
Either way, my brands throb as I read, so I figure some part of me gets the gist. Kind of like when I eat manna. I don’t know what vitamins and minerals I’m putting into my spirit, but my cells absorb the nutrients all the same.
Every part of me understands the importance of forgiveness. My bitterness is poison—but only to me.
I force myself to let go of my anger with Elizabeth. When the feeling resurfaces, and it does, I focus on her good qualities. Her loyalty and passion. She hasn’t returned the favor; she’s holding on to her anger like it’s a new boyfriend, putting me down at every opportunity.
She’ll say, “If you’re our savior, I weep for the fate of our realm.” Or, “I wonder if the Firstking looks at you and regrets the creation of all humans.” Oh, and I loved this one, “I bet your name stands for all the ways you make those around you miserable. Numbers one through ten, existing.”
Thankfully, the rest of the realm has pardoned me. I’m greeted with smiles.
I wonder what everyone would think if they knew I’d received a message from Killian. I wonder what they’d think if they witnessed my reaction to the message.
Every time I think about it, I laugh, spread my arms and twirl. The untouchable, indomitable Killian Flynn might maybe possibly be in love with me!
In the middle of my apartment, I do my thing. Laugh. Spread arms. Twirl. I have come to believe 143 is the numerical equivalent of I love you. 1—a one-letter word. 4—a four-letter word. 3—a three-letter word.
Until I received Killian’s note, I constantly shied away from the word love. But why? My aversion seems so silly now. I mean, what’s so frightening about four little letters? L-O-V-E.
Love gives. Loves protects. Loves lifts up and never tears down. Love empowers.
I think I might 143 Killian right back. My heart softens at the mere mention of his name. He is strong, smart and witty. He is courageous. He is learning how to be kind. When he looks at me, I don’t see the pain of the past, but the brightness of the future.
I will tear the world apart to be with him.
But how can we be together?
We will have to brave the hostility of two worlds. I’ll have to be stronger physically and mentally. A soldier capable of defending those under my protection and ignoring insults.
Yesterday Elizabeth said, “What if you’re wrong about your Myriadian boy toy, huh? What if, when you compete with him, he uses your feelings for him against you? Who am I kidding? He will.”
She hopes to ignite doubt. I have to be careful. Doubt is an insidious creature. It can creep in, set up a tent and ruin everything.
Killian has more than proved his loyalty to me. He deserves my trust. He’s hiding my mother, even guarding her so that she can defect.
One day, she might walk the streets of Troika at my side, her hand in mine. Because of Killian’s efforts and love.
Maybe he’ll go a step further and work with me to end the war. Together, we can do anything! After all, not every Myriadian is a representative of darkness, and not every Troikan is a representative of Light. There are good and bad people in both realms.
The brands in my hands vibrate, and I jolt, preparing to—oh. Right. My internal clock. Ever since I learned to move in and out of a Shell, I’ve been able to produce a glowing keyboard above the center of my wrist. I can type whether I’m in or out of a Shell. I’ve learned to set an alarm.
If it’s your way of telling ne we’re over, sorry boyo, but it’s not going tp work out for you.
Conduit-in-training,
Ten Lockwood
TROIKA
* * *
From: Mailer-Erratum
To: T_L_2/23.43.2 K_F_5/23.53.6
Subject: THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN DEEMED UNDELIVERABLE
A report of this exchange has been sent to your superior, General Levi Nanne.
chapter seven
* * *
“What you seek, you will find. Good or bad.”
—Troika
For over a week, I practice with my Shell, a plethora of Whells/weapons and my teammates at all hours of the day and night, driven by unwavering determination. Several Generals stop by periodically to watch my progress, or lack thereof. Alejandro, who I’d swear was an Italian model in his Firstlife. Luciana, who is short, curvy and covered in adorable freckles. Shamus, who is the epitome of a Scottish warrior. And Ying Wo, who is as graceful as a sunbeam.
Each of the Generals oversees a different part of Troikan security and well-being. Everything from war planning to communications to the well-being of our citizens. They are the leading experts in their fields.
But no pressure for me to perform without error, right?
Every day Levi says, “Take my hands. Send a stream of Light to me through the Grid.” Every day I fail, and frustration is riding me hard.
In what little spare time I have, I read the Book of the Law. If there’s power in knowledge and strength in consistency, I’m going to be the strongest, most powerful girl ever to live!
Confession: half the time I don’t understand what I’m reading.
Page one states: The law does not define your life. The condition of our heart does that. You can only walk in the Light you know. Never violate your Light.
So the laws aren’t as important as our intentions...or the laws are just as important as our intentions, but if we mean well, we’ll be forgiven for our mistakes? And how do you violate Light? Doing the wrong thing when you know what the right thing is? Or simply doing the wrong thing?
Either way, my brands throb as I read, so I figure some part of me gets the gist. Kind of like when I eat manna. I don’t know what vitamins and minerals I’m putting into my spirit, but my cells absorb the nutrients all the same.
Every part of me understands the importance of forgiveness. My bitterness is poison—but only to me.
I force myself to let go of my anger with Elizabeth. When the feeling resurfaces, and it does, I focus on her good qualities. Her loyalty and passion. She hasn’t returned the favor; she’s holding on to her anger like it’s a new boyfriend, putting me down at every opportunity.
She’ll say, “If you’re our savior, I weep for the fate of our realm.” Or, “I wonder if the Firstking looks at you and regrets the creation of all humans.” Oh, and I loved this one, “I bet your name stands for all the ways you make those around you miserable. Numbers one through ten, existing.”
Thankfully, the rest of the realm has pardoned me. I’m greeted with smiles.
I wonder what everyone would think if they knew I’d received a message from Killian. I wonder what they’d think if they witnessed my reaction to the message.
Every time I think about it, I laugh, spread my arms and twirl. The untouchable, indomitable Killian Flynn might maybe possibly be in love with me!
In the middle of my apartment, I do my thing. Laugh. Spread arms. Twirl. I have come to believe 143 is the numerical equivalent of I love you. 1—a one-letter word. 4—a four-letter word. 3—a three-letter word.
Until I received Killian’s note, I constantly shied away from the word love. But why? My aversion seems so silly now. I mean, what’s so frightening about four little letters? L-O-V-E.
Love gives. Loves protects. Loves lifts up and never tears down. Love empowers.
I think I might 143 Killian right back. My heart softens at the mere mention of his name. He is strong, smart and witty. He is courageous. He is learning how to be kind. When he looks at me, I don’t see the pain of the past, but the brightness of the future.
I will tear the world apart to be with him.
But how can we be together?
We will have to brave the hostility of two worlds. I’ll have to be stronger physically and mentally. A soldier capable of defending those under my protection and ignoring insults.
Yesterday Elizabeth said, “What if you’re wrong about your Myriadian boy toy, huh? What if, when you compete with him, he uses your feelings for him against you? Who am I kidding? He will.”
She hopes to ignite doubt. I have to be careful. Doubt is an insidious creature. It can creep in, set up a tent and ruin everything.
Killian has more than proved his loyalty to me. He deserves my trust. He’s hiding my mother, even guarding her so that she can defect.
One day, she might walk the streets of Troika at my side, her hand in mine. Because of Killian’s efforts and love.
Maybe he’ll go a step further and work with me to end the war. Together, we can do anything! After all, not every Myriadian is a representative of darkness, and not every Troikan is a representative of Light. There are good and bad people in both realms.
The brands in my hands vibrate, and I jolt, preparing to—oh. Right. My internal clock. Ever since I learned to move in and out of a Shell, I’ve been able to produce a glowing keyboard above the center of my wrist. I can type whether I’m in or out of a Shell. I’ve learned to set an alarm.
