The Sun in Her Palm

Isabelle inserted the flash drive labeled “NEVER” into the computer and, after a moment’s hesitation, pressed Enter. The image broke through the hiss and blur — a street-cam feed, unstable but real. From the very first seconds of the video, Bella realized she had always been looking the wrong way. She had built her life around tomorrow — blind to what lingered behind, never daring to uncover the buried pieces of her past.

The smart sensor on her desk blinked red and chimed, registering her rising pulse and cortical activity.

There — on the computer screen — the crowd at the Main Square broke apart, scattering.

Police drones glided through the smoke, red sensors sweeping over faces; the air filled with sharp pops and a deep, moaning hum from the stasis grenades as squads in black pursued the fleeing crowd.

Zoom in: her father?

She still remembered her parents — faces that sometimes came in dreams.

He was carrying a girl. Bella recognized herself.

Was that ever possible?

She froze.

Yes — no doubt.

As if responding to her thoughts, a scan-tag flickered to the right of his face:

JOHNNAR NAUVETT — Civil Engineer — Risk Index 83: TERMINATION PENDING...

Then a loud crackle. Shots? It looked as if her father stumbled and fell, still managing to shield her. Some fell with him. He tried to rise again…

Bella’s stomach dropped; a strange, hollow cold spread inside her — yet hot blood pounded in her temples.

Her mother? …Yes, her mother — rushed in to help them, someone else steadying her.

They all tried to drag each other out of the line of fire.

Zoom out. She lost them in the blur of people running for their lives.

How?! Aunt Polly had said her parents had abandoned her — said they were the worst parents ever.

Why? Wouldn’t it have been easier to know they had given their lives for her?

Wait. Could the video be fake?

…But she was starting to remember something now.

Yet where had this flash card come from? Bella had found it in her drawer, though she had never seen it before. Was it aunt Polly’s?

Her thoughts darted wildly, colliding one after another. Nothing made sense.

Or — wait. Was that then?

Her memory flitted, desperate, over scraps — newspaper headlines, textbook chapters.

July twenty-first? No… so that’s why —

The Last Rebellion…

Were her parents the enemies of the State?

Maybe it was good she had forgotten them. Isabelle forced herself to smile.

And why had they taken her with them to the protest? Were they insane? She had been only five. Well — five and a half.

Anger rose within her. Insane rebels! She wasn’t one of them.

Rage shifted into doubt.

Unless…

Bella flushed and began to tremble. She …had followed them, unseen, to the Square.

Her feelings twisted — shame, bitterness, despair, confusion. Stupid girl! It had all been because of her…

Only now did she realize that moment had been completely erased from her memory for ages. Why?

The shock was too sudden, too painful, too unreal.

It didn’t match what she’d been taught. The Last Rebellion was described in books as the bloody madness of cruel mobs who slaughtered thousands of policemen and soldiers defending order — yet the video showed clearly who was the hunter and who the prey.

As if everything solid had melted away.

Isabelle had thought her life was fine — until now.

She had served as lower personnel on the Semiconductor Megafarms since she was sixteen, cleansing toxic waste and believing every worker’s effort was a contribution to the defense of the Motherland. It was hard labor — but it had a purpose.

Everyone there worked to exhaustion — boys, old men, young women — and after the shifts came evening classes.

It was unbearable at times, but Bella was happy. She believed she was doing a good thing.

Becoming an engineer and joining the defense projects, she took pride in her profession and her team.

They developed new types of plasma rifles and energy weapons. Isabelle knew her efforts helped her country defeat its enemies. She had never imagined she could doubt it.

And now — her parents, shadow-minds? The “non-viables”?

But from the books Bella remembered: the rebels had been eliminated long before the First Expedition to Mars.

She recalled that day clearly — she was ten, watching the historical launch with her aunt Polly. It was the triumph of the Bright Philosophy. She had believed it.

But now her mind tossed up forgotten fragments — strange guests in the evenings, whispers in the kitchen.

Could the rebels still exist?

Had they lied to her for her safety? But she wasn’t a girl anymore — why hide?

No, no, no!

Bella clasped her head in her hands, fingers tangled in her hair.

It simply couldn’t be true. There had to be some other plausible explanation.

And after all… she couldn’t betray the Bright Philosophy or the Free Monarchy. The Leaders had sacrificed everything to bring the country and its citizens to today’s success.

She had dedicated her life to her State.

Oh God…

Tears filled her eyes, her hands falling limp.

Could that, too, have been true?

When Bella was eight, Uncle Max had caught her reading a letter from her mother — a letter from the past.

She could never remember how it had come into her hands.

He had yelled so harshly — she had never heard such words before.

He was furious — no, terrified!

And she had truly believed him when he said the letter was an enemy provocation. Enemies were everywhere; they tried to seduce anyone — children, elders, even noble citizens.

That morning someone had visited them… maybe he had left the letter. But who was he? She couldn’t remember.

Then came the inspectors who drove Bella to hysteria.

Of course she wasn’t a shadow-mind! They had believed her.

Still, they gave her three months of corrective work. That was where she had met her first friends — and aunt Polly.

Back then, Bella had been required to undergo “memory enhancement treatment”.

She now recalled the warmth, the calm, the vivid, almost joyful sensations. But…

Oh no! …That’s why everything in the past had always felt so hollow, so broken and disconnected. Memory treatment…

Now each piece of the puzzle was falling into place.

And Uncle Max had disappeared soon after…

Isabelle thought he no longer wanted to see her.

Or maybe he had been detained. Was he a rebel, only protecting her? Or had he served the Government? Questions that may never find their answers…

But Eliot… What about him now?

Her heart raced; her thoughts scattered, searching for something that still felt real.

They were engaged. He believed in the Free Monarchy with all his heart.

What was she to do now, if her whole life had been a lie?

Or maybe their whole world had been?

Bella remembered the film they had shown in fifth grade — the Governess-General’s funeral at the Wall of Honor, the golden casket, the endless speeches about duty and light.

At the same time, she recalled a poor cemetery she had once visited, with simple citizens’ graves. Even then, she had felt uneasy — the silence of the poor graves had seemed truer than all the music at the Wall.

She had served the State earnestly and believed in its future. Yet she couldn’t see herself praised like the Governess-General or the Esteemed Citizens in the end. Deep down, she still doubted whether she truly belonged to that world.

She loved the Bright Monarchy, yes — but somewhere deep inside lived another feeling: a longing for something lost. For freedom she had never truly known.

The recording ended…

Silence.

The outer wall screen showed a bright autumn morning — her only weekend that month.

Ever since cameras and display panels had grown cheaper than glass, with all of the State’s mineral resources reserved for semiconductors, architects had stopped designing real windows. These days the Government wisely controlled every element — even sand and silicon.

Outside, the projected sky shifted gently, synchronized with the city’s rhythm. From time to time, police drones glided softly through the air, keeping watch over the city’s peace and order.

Bella knew she would go on chasing the truth — because it was the only thing that still gave her a sense of meaning. Tomorrow she might return to her lab, follow protocols, wear her usual smile — but truth had already left its mark.

…She flinched as the sudden outer bell chimed, her body tensing at once. Did anyone plan to visit her today?

She forced herself toward the door… pressed a security cam button.

A hologram of a delivery man at the entrance appeared. The tension eased a little. After all, she hadn’t broken any law she knew of. She had no reason to be afraid.

Letting him in, she waited a minute or two until he reached her floor.

The man handed her an envelope and left, without asking for a signature. Odd.

It read simply: “To Bella.”

She opened it — real paper, not plastic. She hadn’t seen one in years.

It wasn’t even a letter — just a note. And what she saw… It made her burst into tears as she had never cried before.

“Give me your palm and I’ll draw a sun.”

The old code — hers and her mother’s — flashed before her eyes.

Isabelle was afraid to believe. Yet now, everything seemed possible. No matter what doubts or dangers lay ahead, she felt something stir within her — a hidden light, kindled quietly, that no order could ever extinguish.

A forbidden memory reborn.

A forgotten hope.