The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf (The Tribe) (21 page)

He came back to himself slowly, his eyes focusing on mine. He looked vulnerable. Wounded. Hopeful. And he whispered, “Ashala.”

He didn’t say anything more. But I knew what he was asking.

I shifted closer, brushing my lips against his cheek. “You’re Tribe now, Connor. Welcome home.”

THREE MONTHS AGO

I loved the forest at night. The way the gray tuarts went silver in moonlight, the curving shadows between the trees, and the changed sounds and movements of the Firstwood as the owls, tree cats, bats, and other night animals woke to hunt. That was why I was out, wandering beneath the stars and heading in no particular direction. Well, that, and because, once again, I couldn’t sleep. It had been four weeks! Where
was
he?

Ember kept telling me, patiently and often, “He can take care of himself, Ash.” And, when that failed to reassure me: “You know he won’t come back until he finds out who the traitor is.” She was right, but it didn’t stop me from worrying. It wasn’t that I didn’t think he could protect himself. I knew that he could.

But I also knew how much that self-preservation cost him.

There was a noise somewhere behind me, and I turned to see Ember stepping out from the trees. “Honestly, Ash, you
would
be wandering around out here when I need to find you. He’s back.”

I bounded toward her. “Is he all right?”

“Of course he’s all right. He’s waiting in the caves.”

She started walking, and I followed behind her. Except she was moving too slowly —
much
too slowly! Hopping from one foot to the other, I asked, “Exactly where is he waiting?”

“In the largest of the caverns that opens onto the woods.”

I took off, tearing through the undergrowth until I was pounding through the narrow entrance to Georgie’s side of the caves, then down the tunnels to the big cavern. Connor was standing in the opening with his back to the forest, his feet resting on the edge of the drop as if he’d floated down from the sky. Which I guessed was exactly what he’d done.

Stumbling to a breathless halt, I grinned idiotically. “Connor.”

He smiled back, teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “Ashala Wolf.”

“Are you — um, is everything okay?”

“I know who the traitor is.”

Oh. There’d been a small, unrealistic part of me that had been hoping it would somehow turn out to be a horrible mistake, and I suddenly didn’t want to hear the name, didn’t want it to be made irrevocably real. “Don’t tell me yet! I mean, Ember should be here soon. She’s behind me somewhere.”

“Then, I suppose we had better wait to talk until she catches up with you.”

“Yeah.” I stared down at the ground, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. There had been no need for me to come running up here like a lunatic. He was fine.

“Ashala?” His voice had changed. Not so smooth or so cold.

“Yes?” I asked hopefully.

“I . . . I think of you. And the Firstwood. When things are bad.”

My throat closed over, and I answered, “I know.” And I did. That was
why
I’d been so worried these past weeks. Without even being conscious of it, I’d picked up on his loneliness, his extreme isolation, grown so much more acute now that I’d shown him what it was like to belong. The memory sharing had created a link between us, just as Ember had said it would. Taking a hesitant step closer, I said, “I can hear you, Connor. Even when you’re not here. Even when you don’t speak.”

For a second, he was still. Then he moved toward me, or maybe we moved toward each other. I flung my arms around his neck, and he hugged me back, the two of us clinging together as if we could make everything else disappear if we held on tight enough. Resting my cheek against this shoulder, I whispered, “You’re not alone.”

He sighed raggedly and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. Then he pushed me gently away. I clenched my hands into fists to stop myself from hanging on to him, watching as he took a step back, and another, and another, until he’d nearly run out of cave to stand in.

“Ashala . . . I have . . . There are things I have to tell you. There are some difficult decisions to be made. I still need . . . I cannot let go . . .”

He stopped, shaking his head in frustration at not being able to get the words out. But I could fill in the blanks:
I still need Justin. I cannot let go of him yet.
He had to maintain the defense system that allowed him to survive in a Citizens’ world, and he was worried that if he allowed himself to be completely Connor, the mask of Justin-the-enforcer would disappear forever.

“It’s all right. I get it.”

He exhaled, and when he spoke again, I could hear the relief in his voice. “Yes. You would.”

Ember arrived and found the two of us standing, in total silence, a long way apart. She looked from him to me, and I could almost hear her mind ticking over.

All she said, though, was “I’ve put a lamp in one of the smaller caves across the way. I didn’t want to bring a light in here. I mean, I’m sure everyone’s asleep. . . .” Her voice trailed off, but she didn’t need to say any more. We didn’t want anyone looking up from the forest and spotting us, not when no one but Georgie knew about Connor.

I strode out jerkily, heading for the smaller cave and leaving Connor and Ember to follow. The three of us settled down in a loose circle on the floor, and Ember asked, “So, enforcer, who’s the traitor?”

He cast a concerned glance at me, and I knew that he’d realized I was dreading hearing a name. Bracing myself, I nodded at him, and he said, “Her name is Briony.”

Bry?
“It can’t be!”

Ember sighed. “She was on the list, Ash.”

Connor’s brows drew together. “You made a list of the people who might betray you? Are there so many?”

“No,” Em replied, “we made a list of anyone who could have left the forest to make contact with the government. Although Bry was a ‘maybe,’ because she could only have done it if she’s been lying about how strong her ability is.”

Bewildered, I asked, “
Why
would she do this?”

“Because,” Connor answered, “she wants an Exemption.”

Ember shook her head in disbelief. “They’ll never give an Exemption to a Runner!”

“No, they won’t. But she doesn’t know that. She’s told them the names and abilities of everyone in the Tribe and given them a description of each of you.”

I gasped. “They know what we look like?”

“General descriptions aren’t photos, Ash,” Ember said soothingly. “It’d be hard for anyone to pick us out in a crowd without more than that.”

“They could pick
you
out.”

“Yes, but you know I can fix my eyes.”

She could, too. Ember had a special contact lens that her dad had given her, which made her blue eye as brown as the other one. But that didn’t make me feel a whole lot better. “It’s still bad, Em.”

“Believe me, I know.” Turning to Connor, she said, “Some of the Tribe are still in contact with their relatives. If the government starts investigating them —”

“They aren’t, yet. Briony knows you by your forest names. Ashala Wolf, Ember Crow, and so on. It’ll take time to match first names and descriptions against all the records of runaways.”

I drew my knees up to my chest. “Neville found
me
quick enough. He gave you my file.”

Connor’s eyes darkened. “You weren’t hard to locate because Briony knew that your sister had been killed in Gull City four years ago. Besides, he isn’t even trying to track the rest of you down.”

“Why not?”

His mouth twisted as if he’d tasted something bad. “I’m afraid the Chief Administrator has made the Tribe his own personal project. He’s hoarding information about you, keeping it away from the rest of the government.”

There was a small silence as Ember and I absorbed the level of Neville’s unwelcome interest in us. Then Connor said, “There’s something I must know. Does Briony possess any information of importance, other than what she’s already told them?”

I felt very grateful for Ember’s circles of secrets. “No. She’s passed on everything she knows. Why does that matter?”

“Because she’s going to be told to introduce me to you. I think it would be best to let her continue betraying the Tribe long enough to do it.”

“What?”

“Neville doesn’t consider Briony to be very reliable,” he explained, “so he wants someone he trusts to make contact. The idea is that I will pose as a clerk seeking help for an Illegal relative.”

Ember looked thoughtful. “That could be useful. It would put you in a position to cast doubt on everything Bry has already told them.”

“Connor, that’s too big a risk for you!” I objected. “Besides, now that we know who the traitor is, you’re coming to live with us.”

But he shook his head. There was an odd expression on his face that I hadn’t seen before and couldn’t place.
Is he . . . afraid?
I felt cold all over, wondering what could possibly scare Connor.

“Ashala,” he said, “Neville has promised Briony an Exemption if she delivers
you
. He is sending me to the Tribe to get to you. And the best way for me to protect you is to be by his side.”

Dismayed, I asked, “What does he want with me?”

“I believe he thinks that capturing you will break the Tribe, and he
has
to break the Tribe. He can’t risk having free Illegals so close to things he is trying to hide. Chief Administrator Neville Rose is a man with a lot of secrets.”

“The rumors are true?” Ember demanded. “About Dr. Grey and her interrogation machine?”

“It’s supposed to read memories. Not unlike your ability.”

“Because,” I said bleakly, “they probably experimented on someone like Ember to develop it.”

“It’s possible,” he agreed. “And there’s more. I’ve seen the machine, and it’s a small electronic device, a box about so big.” He measured a space in the air with his hands, and Ember let out a strangled sound. “You’re sure that’s it?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

The size and shape of the machine clearly had some significance to the two of them that had escaped me. “I don’t get it! What does it matter what it looks like?”

It was Ember who answered, sounding shaken. “Ash, do you remember me telling you about those powerful little electronic boxes, the ones that are used to run stuff like the Rail system, and the recyclers, and the solar generators? Computers?”

“Yeah, but what does that have to . . .? Hang on, you think the machine is a
computer
? It can’t be!” Computers were advanced technology, and as every schoolkid knew, advanced tech was restricted to projects of “public good,” and then only if the Council of Primes determined that the potential good to the Balance outweighed the harm. “You’re telling me the Primes approved —”

Connor and Ember shook their heads. “We would have heard,” Ember said, “if the council had allowed a computer to be developed for something like this. So if that machine is a computer, then Neville is breaking the Benign Technology Accords.”

I tried to get my mind around this latest disturbing piece of information. It seemed impossible. I mean,
everyone
knew the dangers of advanced tech. It had isolated the people of the old world from nature, shielding them from the consequences of imbalance, and yet they’d believed, right up until the very end, that it would save them. But as Hoffman himself said, advances in technology could never compensate for failures in empathy. That was one of the reasons why we
had
Benign Technology Accords, to stop us from making the same mistakes.

“I’m afraid,” Connor said, “that what Neville’s doing doesn’t end with the machine. He has something going on in the Steeps, too, though I don’t know what yet. It seems to me that there is one sure way to deal with the threat he represents. I can kill him.”

Ember straightened in sudden interest, but I snapped, “No!”

“There wouldn’t be much danger of being caught. With my ability, it would be easy enough to make it seem like an accident —”

“Absolutely not, Connor!”

He seemed taken aback by my reaction. “Why not?”

I couldn’t believe he was even asking why it would bother me to tell him to kill. “Because I am not your father.”

He seemed surprised. “Ashala. It wouldn’t be the same.”

“It would feel the same. To me.”
And to you, even if you don’t know it.

His brow creased, as if I’d presented his quick mind with a puzzle he couldn’t solve, and I knew he still didn’t understand.
Because you’re not used to anybody caring, Connor. Caring if you succeed or fail, yes. But not caring about you.
I don’t know what he read in my face, but his expression changed, growing softer. I longed to reach out to him, but I couldn’t do that without breaching the boundaries he’d set between us, so I stared at him instead, willing him to feel what I was feeling. After a moment, his lips curved faintly into a smile, and I smiled back.

Ember cleared her throat. When Connor and I didn’t react, she did it again, a bit louder.

We both looked at her this time. “There’s a better way to get to Neville than killing him,” she told us. “We can
expose
him.”

“For breaking the Tech Accords?” I asked.

“And whatever else he’s up to in that place. I don’t think we even want him dead, because he’s not doing this alone. Grey might just carry on without him. If he was exposed, though . . .”

Connor seemed intrigued by the idea. “There’d be an inquiry for certain, and they might even shut down the center temporarily. There’s talk of an Inspectorate visit being scheduled soon after the center opens. We could be able to use that.”

Happy with any notion that didn’t involve Connor assassinating somebody, I put in brightly, “I think this is a terrific idea. We’ll just have to come up with a plan. One of your twisty plots, Em. To expose Neville — and maybe rescue some detainees, too.”

She laughed. “I’m afraid it would have to be some amazing plan to do all that.” Then her face grew serious. “Have you thought about how this ends, Ash? With Briony, I mean?”

I frowned, and she continued: “I take it we’re agreed that it would be best to let her introduce Connor to us. And we couldn’t expose her as a traitor immediately after that, either, because Neville would wonder if we suspected Connor, too. There’ll come a time, though, when we won’t have to pretend anymore, and I guess what I’m asking is, are you prepared to forgive her?”