Текст книги "The Variables"

Автор книги: Shelbi Wescott

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

She lowered the book and opened it carefully to a random page. “As the time draws nigh glooming a cloud, a dread beyond of I know not what darkens me. I shall go forth, I shall traverse the States awhile, but I cannot tell whither or how long...” she stopped. Flipped the page and then flipped back again.

“Keep going,” Darla said.

Ainsley read, “Perhaps soon some day or night while I am singing my voice will suddenly cease. O book, o chants, must all then amount to but this? Must we barely arrive at this beginning of us? And yet it is enough, o soul; o soul, we have positively appeared—that is enough.”

The candles flickered and the rain pattered. Ainsley closed the book and held it tight.

“I always hated Walt Whitman,” Darla said.

“You asked me to read it.”

“I hate anyone that people tell me I am required to like. It’s a character flaw.”

Ainsley snorted. When Darla shot her a glare, she lowered her head, still smirking. “Darla admits her flaws. It’s almost charming.”

“No,” Darla said, sitting up halfway and propping herself up on her elbows. “You buy that shit? That it doesn’t matter what the journey is or how dark and awful the world seems, because we’re all going to die, and, then he says, it’s okay. Because it was worth it just to have been born?”

Ainsley shrugged. She opened the book up and scanned the lines again. “I was a nursing student. Science and medicine are my thing. Whitman and I aren’t intimately connected. I couldn’t tell you what he means.”

“I can. And I don’t buy it,” Darla said and she slid back down to the floor where she could feel the hardness of the gun next to her body. “Read me more.”

Without bothering to argue, Ainsley resumed the reading of Leaves of Grass by candlelight until Darla was fast asleep.

CHAPTER SIX

“Was this planned?” Lucy asked her father as the beeping rang through the hallway. The Announcement Alarm lights flickered as the King family made their way en masse up the elevator and through the hoards of gatherers and into the Center. Whenever the beeping interrupted their day, the System’s occupants began the slow trek to their meeting place to see what Huck had to tell them. The Center had been transformed from the carnival a few days earlier, and it was set up like the first gathering Lucy had attended with Cass.

“Yes,” Scott answered in a terse reply. “It’s a planned meeting.”

“Is it about getting out of this place?” Galen asked, sidling up beside his father. Someone nudged him from behind on his way through and Galen stumbled. He shot a look upward, but the offender had already passed.

“Come on, stay close,” Maxine commanded. She held Teddy on her hip—he was covering his ears with his hands and closing his eyes tight. Harper trotted alongside, and Maxine kept putting her hand on her youngest daughter’s head to steer her in the direction of the crowd. “Head to the place on the right. With our pod. Come on, keep moving.” Monroe and Malcolm tried to duck between other congregants and found themselves at an impasse behind the metal doors. Maxine snapped her fingers and the twins slunk back to the family. “I said, stay close,” she reiterated.

From down the hall, Lucy spotted Grant making his way through the crowd. He waved at her and she motioned for him to join her. He nodded and disappeared. While they were technically supposed to sit by pod, Huck had stopped enforcing it—the trapped survivors divided themselves into distinct groups on their own, splintering into cliques.

After his stint as a prisoner and guinea pig ended, Grant had been given a shared room halfway across the System from the King residence. Propelled into roommate life, he now shared living space with Todd, a computer prodigy from Texas, and Dylan, one of the System’s guards—recruited secretly from his military school with a promise of life-changing opportunities and upward mobility in the Elektos army.

Grant never had anything negative to say about the guys. He called them his “System Brothers” and often arranged to meet them for pick-up basketball games. It was endearing how much Grant wanted to show that he was trying to fit in. Late at night, Lucy and Grant found themselves discussing how they wanted to handle life underground. She refused to see how Huck’s leadership could be accepted so blindly, but Grant didn’t want to draw attention to himself by looking ungrateful for a second shot at life. She understood his need to transition from inmate to approachable System resident. While she knew it was calculated, she also knew that Grant could find fun and friends anywhere.

Lucy watched as Grant made his way closer, wearing a big smile every time his face popped up in the ambling crowd. Her family turned from the hall into the Center, and Lucy’s attention was drawn away from Grant and into the room.

Set up in front was a temporary stage and a white screen had been erected with a video playing on a loop. As the rest of the System’s population entered, they were naturally glued to the images: computer generated buildings, architectural designs, a white soaring tower with a helipad, and an open center looking down into beautiful green foliage. Surrounding the initial tower, there were walkways leading to smaller buildings. Glass ceilings peered into shopping centers. Through the art of computer animation, the video swooped through the ceiling and into hallways lined with artisan shops, manned by silhouettes.

Outside, the incessant beeping continued to call the System drones forward. Inside, a soft melody played as the soundtrack to the film.

“The Islands?” Lucy asked her dad, and he nodded a curt, single nod.

The Islands were not actual islands, as Lucy had imagined. Instead, they were floating cities. The images played again on a loop. Their future home was presented with a slideshow of enticing pictures, and for a moment, Lucy felt herself being pulled toward the excitement and beauty. They would no longer be shut up tight under the earth; the unavoidable dark sterility of their underground home could soon be a distant memory.

“They’re not what I pictured,” Lucy said to herself. Her father glanced down and acknowledged the comment, but his face was blank, studious, and altogether tense. He picked at his cuticles as they walked, his tell that he was mentally occupied and stressed. “Dad?”

“They are remarkable,” he replied, but he didn’t look at her. Scott’s face scanned the people in the room, his mouth taut. When he spied Huck, Gordy, and Claude taking their places at the podium, he closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath.

Grant slipped into their row and worked his way around Galen, Monroe, and Malcolm and took his seat next to Lucy. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, and she smiled.

“This is exciting,” Grant said. He reached out to hold Lucy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Act three begins.”

“They’re pretty, but—” Lucy started, but her father turned sharply and waited for her to finish, so she let the sentence go, shaking her head. “Stuck in a cave or stuck out at sea,” she then said, under her breath.

Lucy turned as she heard Cass’s voice materialize behind her. “Eskize mwen. Pardon, pardon,” her friend said, slipping between French and Creole effortlessly, as she slid past those already seated and took the chair directly behind Lucy. Once settled, she leaned forward and put her hand on top of Lucy’s head. “Good morning, dear ones.”

“The unveiling of your dad’s crowning achievement. Excited?” Lucy asked. Her father bristled beside her. She took umbrage with his prickliness.

Cass laughed and shook her head. “Excited? No. I am not excited about the presentation. This will be nothing compared to when everyone sees them in person the first time. But his shirt looks nice. I picked it out myself.”

Lucy watched as Cass’s eyes scrutinized the slideshow. Then she looked intently over Lucy’s shoulder, distracted from the good-natured greeting a moment before. When she turned to see what Cass was staring at, she could hear her mother’s voice in a cold monotone. Standing before the King family was Blair—dressed in a short skirt, a billowy blouse, and a headband with a peacock feather—she leaned in over some of the other System residents and was smiling at Teddy, who had buried his face into Maxine’s shoulder.

“He’s shy,” Maxine said. “He’s been through a huge ordeal. And the noise is scaring him.” Teddy shivered against Maxine and looked on the verge of tears; he held her around the neck and didn’t turn to make eye contact with the woman itching for his attention.

Blair slid in further to the row. “I’ve watched him play in the Center with the boys. I just wanted to say hello.”

“Another time, Blair,” Maxine said.

Blair’s eyes flashed. “I just wanted to say hello,” she repeated, but this time her voice carried the heaviness of a threat. “But since now isn’t a good time, I’ll just pop by later. Expect me.”

“Wonderful,” Maxine replied and she rolled her eyes as Blair turned her back and sauntered up toward her family at the main stage. When Maxine turned to catch Scott’s attention, Lucy saw that her father shifted his body so she was no longer in his peripheral vision. It was a subtle move, a turn of just a fraction of an inch—but it made all the difference. Maxine eyed him, while rubbing Teddy’s back and lulling him peacefully to rest against her body.

“What was that about?” Lucy whispered, turning back to Cass.

Cass put a hand on Lucy’s back. “Blair happened,” was all she said. “Shhhh,” she added. “Look. Here we go.” The overhead lights dimmed.

Gordy took his place at the microphone and the residents fell silent with anticipation. The music faded and the video ceased.

“We have called you here today to announce that the time has arrived to unveil our greatest achievement. The Islands are ready.” Gordy raised his hands into the air and clapped, soliciting a round of applause from around the room. Murmurs of excitement spread from one end of the room to the other.

“Everything that we have been through, everything that we have suffered through will be redeemed. My father’s plan from the beginning was to unite us in paradise. Those of us who are truly deserving and faithful to the work shall now see what we were fighting for. Not just second chances. Not just opportunities. But a new life.” His voice filled the space with intensity and vigor. His hands moved rapidly as he spoke, and every eye in the place was trained on him.

Lucy turned to her father and stared at him. His eyes stared unblinkingly at Gordy; he must have felt Lucy’s gaze, but he remained facing forward, resolute in his power to ignore her. Gordy continued.

“The Islands were partially constructed prior to the Great Divide.”

That was the first time Lucy had heard that expression: The Great Divide. The connotation of it bothered her and she realized it was because the title alone was manipulative. It was the sanitation of genocide. Yet, despite her conflict, Lucy was riveted by Gordy’s words. Even Grant was wide-eyed, listening to the lecture with intense focus. She took his hand and he wrapped his fingers around hers without looking.

“Once we knew it was safe to continue our work, the great architects and engineers were put to work,” Gordy continued. “Eventually, we will have nine Islands. Only eight are ready for the move. Each Island is its own entity, with its own specialties, and its own diverse population.” Gordy paused, waiting for his audience to process, and then he smiled. “Yes, yes. Diverse. Meaning...when you are assigned your Island location, you might be saying goodbye to some of the faces you have come to know here in our temporary home.”

This announcement created a ripple of chatter. People buzzed with anxiety. They had barely adjusted to life in the System, and now they were being asked to move again, to a new place, with new neighbors.

Gordy turned and motioned behind him to where Claude stood tall. With self-assured poise and a calmness that Lucy had come to admire in all of the Salvants, Claude rooted his feet on the stage, his hands clasped behind him, his head high.

“Claude Salvant is the man who designed and engineered this marvel of modern day architecture. He created our System, and together with the world’s best scientists and innovators, helped create the Islands. He worked with our Energy Trusts to make sure that the best designs could coexist with the best science. We’ve proven it can.” Gordy stopped and smiled, flashing his teeth at the crowd.

Lucy looked to the ground. Grant’s hand was sweating against hers. She pulled her hand back and wiped it on her pants and then resumed holding his hand. He smiled.

“Buoy technology, wave energy...you’ve heard about it in your newspapers, buried under the conflict of wars and failing governments. It slipped by unnoticed, but it was there, all along. Our Islands. And to introduce them to you today, I will have Mr. Salvant present to you our new homes.”

Gordy clapped his hands together and taking his cue, the rest of the Center began to applaud. Grant, unwilling to let go of Lucy’s hand again, out of love or in mockery, clapped their clasped hands together. Claude stepped forward, his towering form dwarfed Gordy as he took his position; he adjusted the microphone and leaned down.

“No, please, thank you,” Claude said to the crowd, raising his hand to silence them. “The Islands are indeed a feat of engineering. Using technology that is so new no one in the old world had perfected it yet, we have crafted fully functional, moveable, but anchored cities. Powered by wave technology and solar power, they are like giant luxury liners built for sustaining life for hundreds of years.”

People began to whisper and lean in to one another.

“That was my mission, based on Huck Truman’s fearless goal. While we let the Earth heal, while we let nature reclaim her health, we had to create a place for us to go. Certainly you are here for a reason. You were chosen. So, your value is high and we want to please you. This is not a temporary holding place while we figure out the next steps, no, these Islands are our permanent home.” The “p” punctuated against the microphone, a shriek of feedback squealed out. People covered their ears and Claude drew back, tapped the microphone, and then continued. “We wish we could have taken you there first, but they weren’t quite ready. Plus, we admit, we worried that they might have been accessible to outsiders had we led you there first. Therefore, it was imperative that the System was our first step. The Islands are our second.”

Cass leaned in and whispered in Lucy’s ear, her breath warm, “Claude Salvant, the architect,” she said. “He wears his pride so well. You can’t even tell what he really believes.” Lucy turned to ask Cass what she meant, but Cass had pushed herself back into her chair.

“Your first look,” Claude announced and a video started up behind him. Upbeat music, a female narrator; Lucy wondered if Huck had specifically sought out some documentary filmmaker for his propaganda production. Did he have a list of talents he refused to kill off? Neurosurgeons, experts in nanotechnology, his favorite barista?

The camera zoomed in on the towers that they had all seen when they first entered, and then the narrator intoned:

“The hub of the New World will be Kymberlin. The center of science, industry, and economy. It will act as the center of our new government: a central place for the Elektos board to meet, and a place where people of every Island can congregate for Founder’s Day or other joyous celebrations. Its dormitories are built both above and below the sea, connected by walkways to the central tower.”

Someone from another pod shouted something indecipherable to the crowd. Jeers and laughter erupted around it, and Lucy watched as Huck motioned for guards to settle themselves in front of the offending area, their hands on their guns. Huck looked personally wounded that someone would interrupt the glorious video; he eyed them with contempt.

Lucy tugged on her father’s shirt and he leaned his ear in to her.

“Founder’s Day?”

Scott nodded.

“Only bullies earn their support through fear,” she whispered and she looked up at the armed guards, who now stepped into the seating area, pacing among them. “He can’t stop them from saying those things. Not even with guns.”

Scott put his hand on his daughter’s knee and looked at her for the first time since they had entered the Center. He leaned in for an awkward side-hug, his wordless response to her observation. She had always enjoyed being the little girl who leaped into her father’s arms, but her great protector and adviser had lost his stronghold in her heart. While freeing Grant had earned him credit, her father had recently retreated into a steady darkness. She had watched it happen; Ethan’s arrival, Teddy’s nightmarish evenings, and more and more evenings called away to the Elektos.

“Dad?” Lucy said in a soft voice, while the video announced a future where the skills of the survivors would be put to use in various industries based on their innate talents. How they decided those talents was left unclear, but the video showed a clip of a little girl instructing her stuffed animals growing up to become a teacher in front of a class of engaged teens. So, the Islands would have schools? She had so many questions. “Is this going to be okay? The Islands?”

A flicker of worry passed over her father’s face and then he smiled a half-smile.

“Kiddo, the Islands will be great. They’re the best future we could ever offer you.”

“You don’t believe that,” Lucy whispered, feeling suddenly emotional.

“Yes. I do,” he replied in a firm whisper. “I really do. Your mother and I have always, since you were born, only wanted the best for you. And this is the best.” Then he turned back to the presentation, dropping his arms.

Lucy looked to Grant, pleading, but he nodded back toward the video, and so she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The woman droned on about the other Islands. Lucy barely processed their names; her head went fuzzy.

“Neighboring the hub of Kymberlin, you will find St. Brenden, the cultural hub of our island fleet...”

“This is strange,” Grant whispered. “Like really strange. I feel like I’m being sold a timeshare. Did your parents ever do that?” Lucy shook her head. “Man, my mom dragged me to four of those meetings, just for theater tickets or promises of a free dinner. Do you think we can choose where we live?” His voice squeaked a bit, like he was still in the throes of puberty, and then he cleared his throat. “It would be cool if we could.”

“That’s not going to happen—”

“Shhh,” someone shushed them from a few chairs down.

Reprimanded, Lucy refocused on the screen.

“...our specialized history and culture team will work diligently to rescue artifacts that we feel should be archived for the future.” The video showed pictures of great pieces of art and libraries full of books. “St. Brenden will be a place of cultural relevance and excitement. Journey here at any time to walk along the halls lined with artwork from the greats.”

Paulina was the Island of agriculture. Aeacus housed animals, moved there surreptitiously before the Release, as well as the military. And there were four others, each with a central area and then long enclosed walkways above the water connecting it to the housing. Dotted up and down the Atlantic, the Islands were spaced out twenty or thirty miles apart, but still easily accessible from each other. The narrator had described traveling between the man-made structures as “Island hopping” with a knowing and scripted laugh.

“Why not Cancun?” Grant joked.

Cass ruffled Grant’s hair and leaned closer. “Science, my dear,” she replied and then she looked to Scott for affirmation. “And access.” She winked.

The video ended and there was a smattering of applause. Claude stepped forward to the microphone and bowed his head slightly. “They are an achievement. They are amazing. And so, with that, we welcome you home.” He slipped backward to the edge of the stage and stood firm and straight.

Huck took the stage. He cleared his throat and looked out among the people he had recruited, those whose lives he was responsible for. He started to speak, but his voice broke, and so he bowed his head and lifted his hand to implicate he needed a moment to compose himself, and when his eyes rose to look out over the crowd, they shone with triumph.

“When we have left this place...this refuge in times of great war...when we sit and look out at the world and know that the generations that follow will reap the rewards of our sacrifice, then we can rest. Then we can look around and say, this is good. This is what we needed. This is the world we deserve.”

There was a delay, but then the Center started clapping, and throughout the seating area, people began to rise. One by one they stood to their feet, saluting Huck with a standing ovation. Scott rose to Lucy’s right and then the man sitting next to him, but Lucy could not bring herself to join them. Maxine rose next, pulling Harper to her feet, still cuddling Teddy against her chest, his long legs dangling. Lucy crossed her arms and looked across the way to the group of dissenters from before; they too refused to stand—the effect was obvious: they were clearly survivors divided.

After soaking in his praise, Huck motioned for the crowd to sit, and as they settled back into their seats, he directed their attention to the screen.

“Each of you, in family units, will be told of your Island placement today. Thank you.”

Behind Huck, the name Kymberlin popped up in bright letters and then there was a scroll of names, like the credits of a film. Halfway through, Lucy spotted their name “The King Family” and she squeezed Grant’s hand. Then she saw “The Salvant Family” and she reached back and clasped Cass’s hand, too. She did feel a twinge of excitement at the possibility of exploring this new place with her friends. She recognized the dichotomy of her emotions.

“The Island of science, industry, and government, very exciting,” Lucy said to Grant, but she still felt compelled to smile at the thought of them breathing fresh air, having opportunities to travel, shop, and wander. And each time she found herself dreaming about the luxury, she tried to pull herself out of it, remind herself that it was not real. Not really.

“I was kinda hoping to live at the one with the zoo,” Grant complained.

“With the military?”

“But the zoo.” He looked at her and winked.

They watched as the other Islands were mentioned and families and groups were designated to specific places. Conversations started and stalled as people waited and discovered their names: friends lamenting separation, others celebrating with joyous hugs of relief. The names moved quickly and people began to stir.

The slide show ended and some people stood to leave. But others began to call out, confused. Lucy saw as Hunter, together with his family, shouted toward the stage. She watched Hunter’s father point to the screen with agitation and concern. Then Huck stepped forward and calmed the masses by asking for them to settle down.

“As Gordy mentioned,” Huck began, “there is a ninth Island yet-to-be-made. It’s in the final stages, but it’s unready for occupants. We would house you at the other Islands until it was time, but so much of our sustainable lifestyle rests in the comfort of knowing we won’t be pushed beyond our limits. We know how hard it is to wait. So, if your name appears on this next list, the list for Copia, then to supplement for the extra hardship, we will be asking for your input as we complete your housing. We want you to experience the ultimate luxury. Copia will be our crowning achievement.”

The anger subsided and a few people crossed their arms and shook their heads, but most seemed pacified.

Huck smiled.

“Yes, you deserve it. Please don’t think your utmost help has gone unnoticed.”

The slide popped on and the names rolled.

Then Lucy put a hand over her mouth and she stared dumbfounded.

There, on the screen, was Grant’s name. Grant Trotter.

But it was her father who was unable to hide his disbelief, “No!” he said audibly and then he looked to Grant and then to Lucy and then back to the stage. “That’s not right. How could that be right?”

“Copia?” Grant asked. He looked at Lucy and tried to hide his own shock and doubt. “The luxury island? Well, that can’t be too bad.”

“Can you fix it, dad? Will Huck fix it?” Lucy asked. She made eye contact with Cass, who had gone quiet and pensive. “It shouldn’t be a hard switch. Grant could stay with us, until...”

“Maybe I can request a zoo,” Grant offered weakly and he smiled, but his eyebrows were lifted with concern. “My own little zoo right off my penthouse suite.”

“We’re not together,” Lucy said, turning to Grant. “We’re not together?”

“Hey.” Grant leaned down and kissed the top part of Lucy’s head. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll request to transfer. And there’s travel between the Islands, right? Until we get it sorted out. We’ll make it work. Maybe you can come to Copia with me.”

Lucy spun and looked at Cass, but Cass looked perplexed herself. “No transfers,” she said with sympathy. She stepped forward and dropped her voice. “You know how this works, Lucy—”

“That’s ridiculous. Grant is part of my family now. We’re staying together. Someone will have to fix it,” Lucy said. She tried to suppress the panic rising in her voice. She had just got him back; they’d only had a short time together. It was fixable. Hadn’t her father earned that much? “Dad? Dad. Please—”

When her father didn’t answer, she turned. It was only then that she noticed Scott had already taken off toward the stage, walking straight toward Huck, his hands clenched into fists by his side.