Raja’s staring at my hand. “Don’t git yerself all riled up. Ain’t nothin’ none of us can do to stop ’em.”
“What were you ’bout to say ’bout my father ’fore they showed up?” I ask.
Raja scratches his head, trying to remember. His eyes light up. “Oh, that’s right. The ’Ssurances. Yer father’s set up border patrols all along the ice country border, so’s the Icers don’t have to. No one goes in, no one goes out.”
“Is that everything?” I say.
“That’s it. The big ’spiracy. Hope you don’t git yerself killed over it.”
I turn away from him, my back against the bars. I need to think. Luckily, I have another six days to think.
Chapter Nineteen
I been thinking for four days, but ain’t nothing come to me yet. It doesn’t help that Perry’s interrupting me constantly with wooloo questions like What’s it like to have legs? and You’d never eat a friendly prickler like me, would you?
Sure to his word, Keep’s been feeding the lifers three times a day to our one, but Raja showed me how Keep also cut the portions by a third, so they end up getting the same exact amount of food in the end. Yeah, Keep’s a baggard alright, through and through. And every night Raja and t’others get forced to go work the trees. I considered following them again, but it’d be a risk and I already know what they’re doing, so I just wait ’round in my cage for them to get back, thinking about everything I know, and worrying about whether Raja’s getting dumped with the bones. But every night he comes back and we look at each other. I see the weariness in his eyes, the defeat, the broken will. “Never give up,” I tell him, and then we both go to sleep.
Every day the winds swirl faster, along with my thoughts. My father. ’Ssurances. The Fire. Keep us out. More meat. More wood. More lifers. Border patrols. It’s all a mess of information and I don’t know how to organize it all. Nor do I know what in the scorch to do with it. My instinct is to rush straight to my father when I get home, demand that he stop making innocent men lifers, stop killing them, come clean with the village ’bout his agreement with the Icers.
What’ll he do? He’ll get out his snapper, add some scars to my skin, and then probably send me back to Confinement until the Call. I need a more subtle approach.
But first there’s an even bigger question I need to figure out. Why is my father doing this? A few days back I thought the answer was obvious—’cause we need more food and wood to survive—but now I ain’t so sure. Why would he kill off good men who can help hunt and protect the village? Even if we get a little extra food and timber it’s still working backwards.
It’s almost like he just wants to control us, keep us all in check, away from the rest of the world. Circ’s question: Have you ever wondered what else is out there? Maybe that’s exactly what my father doesn’t want us to wonder. If we’re too busy struggling to survive, to grow the tribe, to fulfill our duties as Bearers or Hunters or Greynotes or whatever, we won’t be thinking ’bout whether there’s more to life’n all this. Which means we’ll stay. In his control. Under his protection.
He’s always controlled my life, so why not on a larger scale?
But that can’t be it. No matter how lucky he is, the Fire’ll get him in the next coupla years, so what’s the point?
~~~
It’s my last day in Confinement—thank the sun goddess!—and I’ve decided to start by telling Circ everything I’ve learned and then we can decide together what to do ’bout it. I already feel relieved that someone else’ll know—besides Raja and Perry, who ain’t much help.
Circ.
It’s weird how I haven’t seen him since we kissed. I was marched straight home by my bull-headed father and Circ was told to go home, too. That my father would deal with him later. I wonder what punishment he received. I almost laugh at the thought. Probably shoveling blaze. Or hauling water. Something exhausting and mind-numbing. Sort of like Confinement, but in a physical, rather’n mental way.
In any case, surely he wouldn’t be allowed to visit me, so that explains why I been left to my own thoughts with only Perry and Raja to talk to.
It’ll be hard to talk to him back in the village without my father finding out, but we’ll find a way. We’ve always got Learning, too. My father can’t take that away—it’s required for all Younglings.
Yeah, things’ll get better as soon as I see Circ again.
I’m glad it’s not Luger that arrives to take me back. Just some other Greynote, all serious and bored-like. I don’t say a word to him, nor him to me, and we’re both okay with that.
I wave to still-sleeping Raja and still-standing Perry as I leave.
Don’t let the cage hit your arse on the way out, Perry says.
The hike is long and dark, but at least it’s in the right direction. Toward home.
When we crest a dune and the village comes into view, the Greynote extends a hand as if to say, “I’ve done my duty, now get the scorch out of here.” I don’t need a second invitation as I’m already running, feeling the wonderful, delicious burn of my underused muscles as they begin to exert themselves. I’m growing more and more comfortable with only having one good arm to swing while I run. When my wrist is finally healed I wonder if it’ll throw me off balance again now that I’m used to not having it. Knowing my level of clumsy, the answer’s probably yes.
As I pass the tower guards I flash a smile and offer a wave. They just stare at me with heavy eyes, but even they can’t break my mood. Not today. I get to see Circ. Things are bad with the ’spiracy I now know all ’bout, but not so bad that me and Circ won’t be able to come up with something to fix it. Today I have hope. Today I’m free. Maybe not so free that I can run off to ice country and join the Icies, but I’m not behind bars, and that’s good enough for me.
It’s still early, the sun barely spreading its light in soft tones across the desert, but I have the urge to run straight to the west tent sector, where Circ’s family lives. Just the thought of it sends bubbles bouncing around in my stomach, a lightness filling my chest. Can’t. I gotta be strong. Patient. Gotta wait until Learning. I’ll see him there and then everything’ll be fine.
So I head for home, hoping Father’s already left for the day.
He hasn’t. He’s sitting outside, as if he’s waiting for me. Pop. Pop! Popopopopopop! The bubbles of excitement explode in my stomach, leaving me feeling ill. Ill that this is the man who raised me, who’s my father, who’d allow innocent men to die for the sake of making ’Ssurances to the Icies. Heat rises in my belly, washing away the sick feeling.
I take a deep breath as I approach. I can’t let him know that I know. Not yet.
I stand ’fore him, shifting from side to side, all awkward-like. It’s a show. I feel more centered’n I ever have ’fore. More sure of myself. More sure of what’s good and what’s bad in this world.
“Welcome home, Youngling,” he says, standing, towering over me. He’s just trying to intimidate me, I say to myself.
“Thank you, Father,” I say, fighting the sarcasm out of my voice. Steady. Steady.
“I asked you this after your previous stay in Confinement, and I hope this is the last time I have to ask you. Have you learned your lesson?” I feel like his dark eyes are staring into the very pit of my mind, where the truth lies. But I can’t tell him the truth or I’ll end up right back in Confinement.
“Yes.” A lie, but a necessary one.
His eyes narrow. “I don’t believe you. But you are going to learn, one way or another.” He strides off, leaving me surprised and confused.