Luminary (9 page)

I decided to take a walk outside, avoiding the path to the lake where Berk and I fought. But within minutes of starting, this boy approached, smiling as if he knows me.

“Dallas.” He holds out his hand.

“Excuse me?”

“The name’s Dallas.” He takes my hand in his and moves it up and down before releasing it. “I’m Carey and Kristie’s grandson.”

The idea of a grandson is so strange. I have to think for a moment what that is. “I am Thalli.”

“Thalli, huh?” Dallas has trouble saying my name properly. As if his name is easy to pronounce. “I met Rhen. She is something.”

“Something what?”

“I mean something.” Dallas spreads his hands wide. “As in . . . really cool.”

“Cool?” I have found the atmosphere here to be quite warm, with a wetness to the air that makes my skin damp and my thick brown hair curl more than usual, causing it to lie heavier down my back.

Dallas shakes his head. “It’s like we speak a different language.”

“I would like to learn more about yours.” I cannot help liking this friendly young man. He seems so comfortable with himself. “We hope to make our home here.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Dallas smiles and starts walking. I fall into step beside him. “You and Rhen are just about the best-looking girls I’ve ever seen. I know you have a thing for Berg—”

“His name is Berk, and I don’t . . .”

“The dude is hot. I get it. If I were a chick, I’d be into him too.”

I have no idea what Dallas is talking about, but neither his mouth nor his legs slow down, so I remain quiet and let him continue.

“But Rhen—she doesn’t have a boyfriend, does she? I mean, it’s just the four of you, right? No one else?”

“Correct.”

“So if you’re with Berk, and the old guy is just old, then Rhen is available?”

“Available?”

“No boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” I’m familiar with the words, but they seem to carry more of a meaning than what I know.

Dallas groans. “Someone she likes, that she’s dating? Like you and Berk?”

I want to tell him Berk and I are not what he thinks we are, but I cannot get those words out.

“Forget it.” Dallas slows down. “That was rude of me—introduce myself and try to get info from you about your best friend. Mom would kill me.”

“She would kill you?” I thought this village was peaceable.

Dallas laughs—a loud, genuine sound that makes me smile. “It’s a saying. My mom wouldn’t actually kill me. But she has tried to teach me to be polite to people.
Tried
being the key word there.”

I’m still not entirely sure I understand Dallas, but I keep smiling anyway.

“Want to see our farm?” Dallas speeds up again.

I recall Rhen telling me she has been spending time on a farm. She mentioned horses and trees. But she has not mentioned
Dallas. Of course, we have not spoken much. I have been busy reading. I don’t care if it is a primitive form of entertainment. I find reading about others’ problems to be quite soothing. And it keeps me from having to hear from Rhen what I do not wish to hear.

I follow Dallas past a grouping of trees. Orange trees. The oranges aren’t perfect, like the ones grown in the greenhouses in the State, but there are many of them. Some are on the ground, turning brown. I stop to examine one and see tiny insects crawling around the rind, dirt and grass around the trunk. A light wind lifts my hair, bringing with it the scent of oranges. So different but so beautiful.

“You coming?” Dallas is far ahead of me, and I race to catch up with him.

In the distance, a large building looms. As we get closer, the smell of oranges is replaced by a smell far less pleasant. A young girl with hair and eyes as dark as the minor keys on a piano runs out of the building and leaps into Dallas’s arms.

“D!” She looks at me and grins—revealing a hole where her two front teeth should be. “Is this the girl you like?”

Dallas turns red and lowers the girl to the ground. “That’s Nicole—my sister. Nicole, this is Thalli.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Dallas turns to look at a pod on the other side of the large building. Rhen steps out of it and waves at us.

Nicole laughs. “
That’s
the girl you like.”

I am not sure how to respond to this conversation, so I walk ahead to greet Rhen.

“Peter was about to take me to the horses.” Rhen sounds so excited. I have never seen her like this. “Come with us.”

I look behind her to see a blond young man walk out of the house. He appears to be older than I am, shorter than Dallas, but just as muscular. His face seems much sadder than Dallas’s, though.

“If you want a tour of the stables, I’m your guy.” Dallas takes Rhen’s arm and moves with her toward the building. I follow. “Peter is new here. He doesn’t know much about the place. We just let him bunk with us because we’re such good people.”

Rhen and I look at one another. “He’s new here?”

Dallas shrugs. “Escaped from Athens a few weeks ago.”

Peter turns around and starts walking. “I need to run into town for a couple things, all right?”

“Doesn’t like to talk about it,” Dallas whispers as he moves Rhen toward the building again. “Good guy, hard worker. We’ll get him back on his feet again. Grams says he just needs some time and space to sort everything out.”

“Is Athens so terrible?”

“They’re just mean.” Dallas stops at a huge double door that is taller than I have ever seen. “They think they can just take what they want because they are stronger and have more technology than us. But we’ve got the food. So they attack us and steal from us to try to get what they need.”

“That is horrible.” These are the primitive people our history lessons warned us about.

“That’s probably not even the worst.” Dallas pulls at the door and it makes loud noises as it opens. “They keep to themselves. Peter talks to my grandparents, but he won’t say a word to the rest of us about why he left.”

Dallas guides us inside, where half a dozen horses congregate. They are beautiful creatures. A little frightening but
beautiful. Dallas walks right up to the one closest to us and strokes its neck. “This one is Sugar. She’s my favorite. I’ve taken care of her since she was a baby.”

Dallas pulls an apple from a bag hanging on a wall, and I watch, fascinated, as the horse eats the whole thing in three bites. He goes on to show us all the horses, tells us their names, and gives them all an apple. Actually, he is telling Rhen. I just happen to be in the building too. Dallas is obviously as intrigued by my beautiful friend as Berk is. Dallas’s attention, though, gives me a feeling that is exactly the opposite of what I feel when she is near Berk.

Rhen and I walk back to the village. Dallas insists on walking with us. With Rhen. I want to tell him to give up. Rhen belongs with Berk now. But Dallas is so eager. And perhaps I am hoping he will draw her attentions away from Berk.

I look around, though, and feel the wind, smell the scents of animals and fruits and so much more. Do I want Berk as much as I thought? Did I love him because he was the only one like me in the State? Someone with feelings and questions? Or is there more? Do I love him the way John loved Amy?

I think of Dallas. I do not feel anything for him, but I do appreciate that he is so open with his emotions. So honest. I wish Berk were more like that. I do not know what he is thinking most of the time. I do not like that he keeps secrets from me. I find that the more I am here, the more I like it. I could belong here. I am different because of the way I speak, but not because of who I am. Emotions are natural here. Freedom is given here. And best of all, here in New Hope, I am not an anomaly.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

W
e have been here for two weeks, and no Monitors have come. The Scientists likely assume we perished in our escape. They would not have wasted manpower trying to discover our bodies. I feel safe for the first time in my life. My friends are safe—this thought brings an even greater peace.

Berk and I have still barely spoken. He is focused on learning the way of life here, of talking with the Scientists, of being useful. When we do speak it is strained, uncomfortable. I do not know what to say to him. I can sense he feels the same. The easy communication that existed between us is gone. Able to survive only in the pressurized world of the State? I try not
to think about that. I focus instead on the freedom I have, the peace.

I have joined Rhen and am learning to work in the orchards, to care for horses. Little Nicole has become my companion in all things agrarian. She is delightful—so open, so happy. I ask questions about her life, trying to better understand the concept of parents, siblings, learning about aunts, uncles, cousins. She teaches me more about her language. I now know the different definitions of
cool
and
hot
. I know the names of the winds that blow past and the types of weather to expect here. I have seen rain, felt breezes, but have yet to experience snow, tornadoes, and heat waves.

Sometimes I walk out in the groves, just enjoying the feel of the sun on my skin. It is a feeling unlike anything I have ever known. I understand John better as well—what he has missed all the years he was below. He is so happy in New Hope. We all are. Mostly.

I am learning to release Berk’s hold on my heart. It still hurts, like a wound that pulls at my flesh. But it will heal. I know it will. And I will be stronger for it.

“Excuse me.” Peter bumps into me, his arms laden with a basket full of oranges.

“Can I help you?” I open the barn door and follow him in. Peter is the exact opposite of Dallas—he barely speaks and rarely smiles. He is from Athens, but that is all I know. He is new here, though, like me. I want to know what New Hope feels like to him. I want to know what Athens is like. I have so many questions I’d like to ask Peter. If I could just make him talk.

“Sure.” Peter sets the basket down and begins placing the
oranges in three different bins. One bin will go to the house and two to the store.

“How long have you been here?”

Peter drops an armful of oranges into the house bin and sighs. “Not long.”

“Do you miss Athens?”

The look Peter gives me makes all other questions disintegrate. It’s anger mixed with something else, something I can’t define. “No.”

I remember now that Dallas said Peter doesn’t like to talk about Athens. As much as I want to ask him more, I need to remain silent. We finish the bins in half an hour, the only sounds in the barn coming from the animals nearby.

“I’m going to shower, then I’ll take the oranges up to the store.” Peter walks toward the house. Dallas told me Peter shares a room with him. His parents volunteered to give Peter a home when he arrived in exchange for his help around the farm. “Thanks for your help.”

I begin walking back to my home . . . such a strange thought. My home. Not my pod or cube or chamber. Home. It sounds so warm, so peaceful.

I am halfway there when the ground shakes suddenly. I cover my ears but the noise still reaches my eardrums, threatens to pierce them. Is it a tornado? Nicole said they are loud when they are close. But she also said the sky is dark when they come and usually rainy. It is bright and clear above. Yet the noise persists.

Then it is over. As quickly as it started. I don’t know what happened. I feel dazed. I look around. Smoke pours from the village. What is it from? It was not there just minutes before. The smell is horrible. People are screaming.

I run out of the grove and I see Dallas and Nicole’s house on fire. Peter just walked in there minutes before. A huge hole looks like it has been carved out of the center. In the distance, a group of people are galloping on horses toward the village. They hold large sticks with fire on the ends.

I run as fast as I can toward the house. What if Nicole and her family were in there along with Peter? I see others running from the village toward the house. I see Rhen’s blond hair. Breathing deeply, I slow. Rhen will reach them. She will help.

I stop to gulp in lungsful of oxygen before running again. When I get there, Rhen is on her knees beside an unconscious Peter. I place a hand over my mouth, look at Rhen for information about his condition.

“His pulse is steady.” Rhen’s voice is calm in the midst of all the chaos. “But we need to get him away from here.”

Two men gather Peter in their arms and carry him toward a pod farther off. Kristie is at the edge of the crowd, tears in her eyes as she looks at the house.

“What happened? Who did this?” I ask quietly.

Kristie looks at me, anger in her eyes. “The Athenians.”

I hear commotion in the village. People yelling, screaming for food. “Is that them?”

“Yes.”

“What do we do?”

“Stay here for now.” Kristie pulls me into the barn. “Carey will give them what they ask for.”

“Why?”

“Because if we don’t, they will kill us.”

I think of Peter lying unconscious outside the burning house. “Why would they do that?”

“They have less fertile soil than we do.” Kristie lowers herself onto the ground. I join her. “And they use most of it to grow the ingredients for the medicines they are creating. They struggle to grow crops and keep animals alive. So they come here and take our food and our animals.”

“But that is barbaric.” I want to go outside and shout at these people for what they are doing. Stealing food? Killing people?

“It is. But it is all they know. We have tried to reason with them, to work with them, but they refuse to listen.”

I cannot comprehend this. It is like a lesson from my learning pad about the ancient civilizations, but this isn’t a lesson. It is actually happening. And it is horrible.

“It has gotten worse since Peter escaped and ran here.”

“Why did he escape?”

“They wanted him to finish what his grandparents started.”

“His grandparents?”

“I told you five of us escaped: Carey and me, Emile, Janet, and Victor. We all stayed here for a while. Until Victor got sick. Cancer.” Kristie closes her eyes. “He was in so much pain. Emile had been a developer of pharmaceuticals, so he tried to see what he could find to duplicate medicines to help Victor. But there wasn’t enough time. Victor died a terrible death. Carey and I were upset.”