Memory Girl (3 page)

“Stay away!” I clutch the slash on my arm so tightly I stop the blood flow.

The glassy head tilts with a simpleness that reminds me of youth monklees when they are scolded but don't understand what they did wrong. The glassy-faced creature says nothing, as if dull-witted and primitive.

He lifts the round spear weapon.

No place to run. I'm surrounded by rocky walls on three sides, and the only way out is the tunnel—which he's blocking. I press against cold, damp rock, ready to dodge if he shoots at me like he did the fish.

Instead of aiming his weapon, he tucks it into an opening in one of his tubes. He extends his palm out like a wave. Is it an offer of friendship or an order to surrender? I breathe again, deciding maybe he isn't dangerous.

In fact, he may have just saved my life.

Green, slimy algae clings to his dangling tubes and flipper feet. Where did he come from? I've never heard of sea-dwellers, but I know so little about what lies beyond the Fence.

“Who are you?” I ask. When he doesn't respond, I point to the Lavender Pool, which is calm again, with no ripple of sharp-toothed danger. “Do you come from the sea or another island?”

No flicker of comprehension. I get more reaction when I talk to Petal.

“My name is Jennza. What are you called?” I ask slower and louder. “Are you understanding me? Can you speak?”

He stares blankly, as if he's not an intelligent species. He doesn't seem menacing though, so maybe he'll let me leave—which I need to do very soon. But what if he tries to follow me over the Fence? He'll be captured or executed. A simple-minded sea creature would have no chance against our Uniforms.

“You have to go back to your … um … home.” I gesture beyond him to the tunnel. “It's not safe here for you.”

He still makes no move to leave.

“You must leave now.” I sweep my arm as if shooing a small fly instead of a man-beast. When he takes a step backward, relief flows through me. “Yes! That's it. Return to the sea.”

But he only takes a few steps then stops. Turning back toward me, he lifts his glassy mask. I'm startled by the most dazzling sea-blue eyes I've ever seen. And these amazing eyes shine bright as his full lips stretch into a smile. He's not only human, but he's about my age and extremely stun-looking.

“Next time you're bleeding, it would be wise to avoid blood-sucking vampfins.” He speaks more intelligently than some Instructors. “I'm Nate. It's pleasing to meet you, Jennza.”

He clasps his hands over his heart, then out toward me. The mask falls back over his face and his flipper feet make no more sound than a breeze.

And he's gone.

I return along the rocky path and climb the Fence. Balancing near the top, I stare back toward the sea, thinking of Nate—his hands clasped over his heart, reaching out to me as if offering something like friendship. My gaze sweeps across waves, searching for the glint of a glassy mask. Is he out there? Where does he live? Are there others like him?

What I wonder most, I'm embarrassed even to admit to myself.

Will I ever see him again?

Of course not. Even if he returns to the cave, I won't be able to come back. The Celebraze will bind me to a new life, and I must accept my fate.

Jumping down to the safe side of the Fence, I wonder which Family will Choose me. With only fifteen youths and twenty-two Families, it's a certainty my name will be called.

Instructors assure us we'll be welcomed with affection and gifts. Still … it's hard to imagine living anywhere else, being someone else. I've been told what to expect in a Family, but words are only a frame without the texture and shape of the true picture. Only fifteen Families will Choose a youth. Our highest leader, Grand Sarwald, will have already selected these Families, basing his decision on necessity, communal contributions, and each Family's number of Lost Ones. Some Family Name Books (or as I call them:
Unusual and Terriful Ways to Die Books) are giantness! It's ripping amazing how many lives have been lost due to accidents in over three centuries.

But thanks to our four life-giving scientists, the dead are never truly lost, their memories born again in the body of a youth.

“Like me.” I stomp a spike-weed growing where the dirt trails meets the smooth gravel path leading to the Edu-Center.

While my fourteen born-mates are eager to bond with a Family, I only think of what I'll be missing: my cave, the sea, Petal, Instructor Penny, and my close friendships with Lorelei and Marcus. As ShareHaven citizens with separate Families, my best mates and I will never play games of seeking or have a box lunch in our tree platform. Youth ends today, and tonight I will leave everything I've known.

I am
so
not ready for the Celebraze.

It's ripping unfair that youths are expected to study all twenty-two Family Name books. That's like hundreds—thousands!—of Lost Ones. I suggested to the Instructors that the Celebraze change the rules so youths are told in advance which Family they'll join. Studying only one Name book would be much easier. But apparently centuries of tradition are more important than a logical process, and no one cares to hear my ideas.

Lorelei says to stop complaining and Marcus keeps handing me Name Books, urging me to read. But I grow quickly bored when reading of Lost Ones, who seem less real than characters from fictional retro-books. Only their manners of death stir my interest.

Still … I
will
have to stand on the stage and Choose a
Name. I wanted to bond with the Hu Family, since they dwell near the sea—until I discovered they raise the largest hoxen and woolly grazer herds, and nine of their female Lost Ones (yes, I counted) died in bloody accidents involving stampedes and piercing horns. Ouch. Besides, I itch when I get near wool—a fact noted in the medi section of my chart.

I also considered the Dallow Family. They dwell near City Center and offer the most interesting female roles, several involving solar energy research. But they place great value on study scores and will surely Choose Merry or Charles. Also cross off the Ying Family, since I have no patience for stitchery, and over a dozen of their Lost Ones crafted artistic coverings for ShareHaven. Lorelei, who is clever at stitching, hopes to join the Ying Family. And Marcus is sure he's going to the Sarwald Family.

So where does that leave me?

Sighing, I glance up to the sharp-angled roofs of the Edu-Center, dusk-brown buildings reaching for the soft blue sky. The weather, usually chilly in late autumn, has calmed for Celebraze. I feel no calm though, only unease twisting my stomach. There's something else too—a sense of wrongness. My neck itches, and I stop to scratch. A sound as close as a whisper stuns me in place. From the corner of my eye I catch the swish of a leathery tail across my shoulder.

“Petal! Not again!” I reach through my thick tangled curls for my tiny stowaway. “I've told you not to hide in my hair!”

She wiggles in my grasp, licking my neck and purring as if proud of herself.

“Oh, Petal.” I offer her my arm so she can scrawl down to my hand. “What am I going to do with you?”

Petal blinks up at me, her way of smiling since her tiny mouth has no teeth, nor does it stretch sideways. I am both mad and happy to see her. Clever Petal, hiding so well I didn't know I had a hitchhiker. My hair is thick enough to conceal the largest Name Book and so wild I usually tame it in a scarf.

“Petal, you can't stay with me.”

She licks my hand. “No,” I say firmly. “You must go back now. Last time you left the cave for too many hours, you nearly shriveled to bones.” Her tail encircles my wrist like jewelry. I sigh, knowing I must return her to the sea.

I'm turning back to the Fence when I hear my name called. Spinning around, I see Lorelei racing up the path toward me. Her milk-white tunic rattles with the small shells, now polished into beads, and the coral spirals twisting in her long black braid.

“Graces good, you're here!” She bends at her waist, breathing deep to catch her breath. “I feared I'd have to break more rules than I have bones to find you!”

“I wasn't gone very long, and there are still hours before the Celebraze,” I say casually, as if I'm not concealing a small creature in my hair.

“Instructor Penny requests us all to gather in the reading room.” Lorelei's dark eyes shine with excitement as she tugs me forward. “Right now!”

I shake off her grip. “But I can't go.”

“Why not?”

“I—I need more time to … um … study Name Books.” Claws dig into my neck and I mind-talk to Petal,
Be quiet and don't move.
I'm not sure she understands, but her claws ease their grip.

“You should have thought of that before you climbed that ripping Fence this morning. Instructor Penny has a surprise for us. It's all very mysterious, and I'm bursting to find out. Nothing will be revealed until we're all together.”

“I have something to do first.” I try to ignore the claws on my neck. “Cover for me, okay?”

“No, it's not okay. If you don't come, I'll tell the Instructors about the broken wires on the Fence. I will hate myself for hurting you, but I will do it.” When her lips press into a stubborn line and her crescent-shaped dark eyes narrow to slits, her mind is set firm.

“Well … um … okay. I'm curious about this surprise too.” I think quickly. “But you go ahead. I—I need to use the privacy room.”

Lorelei frowns. “Seriously?”

“Desperately.” I wiggle my hips for emphasis. “I'll be quick.”

“You'd better.” She arches her brows doubtfully.

“I criss-cross thumb promise,” I say, crossing my thumbs together—our secret sign of friendship. Lorelei hesitates, then crosses her thumbs too.

I watch Lorelei leave, waiting 'til the dorm building door closes behind her.

“Stay hidden,” I whisper to Petal.

Instead of the privacy room, I go to the kitchen, where I pour a bowl of water and rummage in the dry goods cabinet for sugar sticklets (Petal's special treat). I sneak her into the storage room behind the torium—the largest building in the Edu-Center with a stage and wings of seats that rise up near the ceiling. I performed here in minor roles as a tree or toad, leaving the dramatical roles to those with acting skills,
like Asha and Homer.

The storage room is crowded with boxes, wooden sets, and hanging costumes. No one ever goes here between plays, so it's a good place to hide Petal. Her tail thumps a complaint when I set her near the water bowl. I wish I could give her salty seawater. When I offer her a sugar sticklet, her tail dances and she tinkles a happy sound. She's safe … for now.

As my quick footsteps tap on the path to the study room, I try to guess what the “urgent” meeting is about. With only hours before the Celebraze, it must be highly important to interrupt our preparations—unless the Celebraze has been postponed? This thought floods me with relief. Another day, perhaps a week, even a month, of staying here would be a welcome surprise.

When I enter the study room, high ceilings shine with light-tubes, and sun streams through windows. I ignore the accusing looks from my born-mates (as if being late is so unusual?) and take my assigned station, the one with the black ink stain on the seat from my unfortunate finger-painting incident at age nine. How could I know puha berry ink would not wash clean?

“About time her royal lateness decides to show up,” Homer says, laughing as if he's told a clever joke.
Not even close to clever
, I think. He's a twig-tall boy with large teeth and a laugh harsher than a squawking crow-hawk.

“I offer my apologies,” I say turning away from annoying Homer to give a respectful nod to Instructor Penny, and instead of anger in the gentle angles of her olive skin, I see forgiveness. Tightness eases in my chest.

“Apology accepted, Jennza,” she says, and I think how good my name sounds from her lips. I will miss that.

“Now that we're all here, I'd like to introduce my surprise.” Instructor Penny gestures to two figures seated in chairs beside her. “Please welcome our guests, Monroe and Greta Hu.”

Not one, but two guests! Indeed this is a rare surprise, as we're seldom permitted contact with the community. Monroe and Greta radiate a sense of maturity like all of those who have ceased aging at the communal age of twenty-five. Monroe is of short stature, with high cheekbones, slim shoulders, and dark amber skin. His sturdy pantons and thick woven shirt are patched and faded as if his work role is outside climate-maintained dwellings. He taps his pointed-toe boot with nervous energy, while Greta gazes serenely around the room. She's roundly built, clothed in a bright blue tunic, with short, honey-brown hair waving from a scarf.

“I've invited our guests because many of you have come to me with questions about what happens when you leave here,” Instructor Penny tells us. “We've been like a family, but now it's time for you to take your roles in our communal Family. It's been an honor to teach you, and I will miss you all.” Her voice catches, and she leans against an edge of her workstation, as if needing the extra support. “While I have told you my own experiences about bonding with a Family, I thought it would be helpful to hear of others' experiences. So I asked Greta and Monroe to share their unique perspectives with you.”