The Line (14 page)

“Come to the house with me now. I have some things to tell you.”

R
ACHEL SAT ON the sofa. Vivian was seated on one of the sentry chairs across from her. They were both wide-eyed, stunned. Ms. Moore came in from the kitchen with a tray, upon which were three glasses and a decanter of wine.

“It’s time we all had a frank chat.” Ms. Moore served the wine calmly, as though she were hosting an evening social. Rachel couldn’t stop staring at her. She seemed so unruffled. But she was wearing a
robe
. With a stunner poking out of one pocket. And her hair was
messy
.

“The man in that digim”—Ms. Moore pointed to the mantel—“is Indigo.” She looked at Rachel. “Apparently, your Pathik is his grandson.”

Rachel gasped. She stared at Ms. Moore, and then at the digim. “But that man is so young,” she said.

“He was then,” said Ms. Moore. “That was years ago, before you were even born, Rachel.”

“His eyes. Pathik’s eyes are the same color. So Indigo
must
be his grandfather, don’t you think? I’ve never seen eyes that color on anyone else.” Rachel looked at Ms. Moore and Vivian for confirmation.

Ms. Moore sat down in the empty sentry chair. She reached for her glass. Rachel noticed that her hand was shaking. She caught her mom’s attention, motioning with her head toward Ms. Moore.

Vivian saw what she meant. “Are you all right, Ms. Moore?”

Ms. Moore set the glass back down on the table without having taken a drink. She looked pale.

“If Pathik
is
Indigo’s grandson, that makes him my grandson too.”

“What?” Rachel didn’t mean for her voice to be quite so loud. “How?”

Ms. Moore held up a hand. “Let me explain it, Rachel.” She took a deep breath, then another. She looked as miserable as Rachel had ever seen her look.

“Indigo is one of the Others. He and I were in love. We had a child—Pathik’s father—together.”

Rachel started to speak again, but Vivian shushed her. Ms. Moore continued.

“Indigo Crossed many, many years ago. I was only a few years older than you, Rachel, when we met. He’d come with a small group of Others, on a mission of some sort. It didn’t go well, and his friends were killed. He was very ill himself and unable to Cross back to Away for some time, and . . . well, we met. And we fell in love.”

Vivian interrupted. “I don’t understand. How did he Cross? The Border Defense System is supposed to be impenetrable.”

“I’ll get to that.” Ms. Moore reached again for her wine. Her hand was still shaking, but she managed to take a sip without spilling.

Rachel had her own question.

“Did you know he was one of them, one of the Others?”

Ms. Moore turned to her. “I did, Rachel. You know how many strangers we see on The Property. It was no different in those days. He tried to tell me he was from town at first, but there was something about him. Something . . . different. I knew he wasn’t telling me the truth.” She tilted her head, studying Rachel. “Why do you ask that?”

Rachel met Ms. Moore’s eyes. She wasn’t sure if she should answer honestly, but she did anyway.

“I was betting you didn’t. Know, I mean. That he was one of the Others.”

“Hmm.” Ms. Moore nodded, as though she understood.

“I mean, the Others are supposed to be dangerous, evil. You don’t seem to be the type of person who would . . . take chances.” Rachel bit her lip, wishing she could take those words back.

Ms. Moore surprised her though. She smiled. Briefly. And then she looked very sad.

“That is so true, Rachel. I’m sure I don’t seem like someone who would take such a chance. I haven’t taken any real chances in a very long time.” Ms. Moore’s eyes glittered with unspilled tears. “I regret that in so many ways. But, back then, when I was a young girl, I wasn’t like I am now. I was more like you. At least for a while.”

“Like me?” Rachel could not imagine Ms. Moore as anything but gray-haired and reserved.

“Yes, like you. You are brave, Rachel. It couldn’t have been easy to steal my medicine.”

That made Rachel squirm a little. “I’m sorry about that, Ms. Moore. I know it was wrong to take it. It’s just . . .”

Ms. Moore waved Rachel’s apology away. “Yes, it was wrong, Rachel. Of course, I don’t
condone
such behavior, under normal circumstances. But you saw a way to help someone in need, someone most people
would
consider evil, and you did it. It was a brave thing to do.”

“She gets that from her father.” Vivian smiled at Rachel.

“Well, I used to be like that too. Brave.” Ms. Moore took another sip of her wine. “When I met Indigo, I knew
he
wasn’t evil. And as we got to know each other, I learned about the Others. Some of them
are
different from us, but they are not evil.”

“How do you know they aren’t?” Rachel watched Ms. Moore intently.

“Indigo told me what he knew of the Others’ history. He grew up hearing the stories about the beginning around their campfires in the evening, when people could rest a bit after the day’s work.” Ms. Moore looked from Rachel to Vivian and back again. “They are just people, like we are. People who paid a price for events they had nothing to do with. Perhaps you should know some of what he told me about his people. About how history looks to
them
.” She settled back in her chair. “Is your mother teaching you about U.S. history, Rachel?”

“I have to study every single—”

“Rachel.” Vivian frowned at Rachel and then turned to Ms. Moore. “Yes.”

Ms. Moore smiled at Vivian. “Then you both know about how the Line came to be, how people were trapped on the wrong side.”

Rachel and Vivian nodded.

“Many of those people died in the initial blast from the bomb Korusal dropped. More people died from the sickness that came in the days after the blast. Those left alive—Indigo’s great-grandparents among them—managed to gather together in small groups. The group Indigo’s great-grandparents were with numbered a hundred twenty-five souls. At first, they had all they could do to survive.

“They had to learn how to live without the conveniences they had ‘before.’ That’s how history is divided Away: before the Line was activated and after. The survivors struggled to forget the people they had been separated from forever. Some could not forget. Those often disappeared from camp without a word, never to be seen again.”

“You mean, nobody went looking for them?” Rachel couldn’t believe it.

“No, Rachel.” Ms. Moore shook her head softly. “They had no choice, really. There were people hurt and ill, and no food sources after a while. Those that found the will to continue had their hands full. It wasn’t like the life you know.”

“So the people that left,” Rachel whispered. “They probably died.”

Ms. Moore nodded silently.

Vivian refilled Ms. Moore’s glass.

“Thank you, Ms. Quillen.”

“Please. Call me Vivian. If you’re comfortable with that.”

Ms. Moore looked at Vivian, surprised. Rachel was sure she was going to say something brusque about formalities, but she didn’t.

“Well, I suppose you must call me Elizabeth, then.”

Rachel gawked. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Ms. Moore looked at her and laughed softly.

“You, young lady, shall continue to address me as Ms. Moore. And you might take some measures to ensure your tongue doesn’t fall out of that open mouth.”

“Yes, Ms. Moore.” Rachel closed her mouth. “So, how did Indigo’s group survive?”

Ms. Moore stopped laughing. “I don’t really know how they survived. Indigo told me they struggled for many years. According to the stories he heard, they almost
didn’t
survive, many times. But somehow they persevered. And now it appears they need our help. Malgam needs our help.”

“Who’s Malgam?” Rachel didn’t think she had heard that name before.

Ms. Moore considered her. “Did your Pathik say what his father’s name was?”

“No.” Rachel thought back to be sure she was right. “No, he only ever mentioned Indigo’s name.”

“But he did say that Indigo was his grandfather?”

“Yes, he did.” Rachel suddenly understood. “Malgam was the baby—the baby you and Indigo had.”

“That’s right, Rachel. He would be Pathik’s father. Who is, from what Pathik says, very ill.” Ms. Moore’s voice was strange; weak and tremulous.

“We’ll help them, Ms. Moore.”

“But we can’t really help them, can we?” Vivian looked confused. “We can’t get the medicine across the Line.”

“You’re right,” said Ms. Moore, tears finally slipping down her cheeks. “The worst of it is that I once had a way for us to do just that.”

“What do you mean, you had a way?” Vivian’s voice was sharp.

“A key.” Ms. Moore began to say more, but Vivian interrupted her.

“A
key
? What kind of a key? Where did you get it?”

Ms. Moore was silent. She looked at Vivian for a long time. Vivian stared back. Rachel wasn’t sure what was happening. When Ms. Moore spoke again, her voice was almost as sharp as Vivian’s had been.

“Do you know something about keys, Vivian? Because if we can help these people, we
must
do it.”

Vivian looked away. “I’m sure the boy ran off,” she said. “We probably scared him.”

“He didn’t run off.” Ms. Moore leaned toward Vivian. “He made a long and difficult journey to get here. And he needs our help.”

Vivian said nothing. Ms. Moore waited.

Finally, Vivian looked back at Ms. Moore. “I’m sure Rachel is tired,” she said.

“What? I am
not
tired.”

“It’s the middle of the night—of course you’re tired.” Vivian was using her strict voice. “I’d like to speak with Ms. Moore for a bit, and I want you to rest here while we talk. You can stretch out on the sofa.”

“But Mom,” Rachel said. “I am
not
tired.”

“We can go to the dining room,” said Ms. Moore, rising from her chair.

“But
Mom
.” Rachel knew it wasn’t going to do any good. Once Vivian used the strict voice, there was never any room for negotiation. All she could do was watch Vivian and Ms. Moore cross the hall to the dining room.

R
ACHEL WOKE WITH a start. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the sofa was surprisingly comfortable despite how firm the cushions were. Somebody had put a blanket over her. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her mom and Ms. Moore were whispering, huddled together at the dining room table. Rachel could see them through the doorway from the parlor, where they had told her to stay and rest. She couldn’t hear them though. Probably they were busy figuring out how to pretend the whole situation never happened. How to avoid trouble.

Every time Rachel looked at the digim of Indigo, she saw Pathik’s face. She wondered where he was right now. She wondered if he was okay. It wasn’t winter yet, but the nights were getting pretty cold. She hoped he knew she hadn’t deserted him. Most of all, she hoped Ms. Moore meant what she had said about helping him. And that Vivian wouldn’t be able to talk her out of it.

Her mom was scared. Rachel could tell by the look on her face—the same look she had that day in Bensen. She’d had that look on her face to some degree or other for as long as Rachel could remember. Worrying about getting Identified, worrying that the government might find them. Rachel had her doubts about that. After all, even if her parents were involved in the rebellion, her dad was dead now. Why would the government waste time looking for her mom? It wasn’t like she had any way to cause them problems. They had lived quietly for as long as Rachel could remember without anyone nosing around. If the government was really looking for them, they would have found them by now.

She peered across the hall into the dining room. The two women were still whispering. Ms. Moore looked tired and worried. Vivian had a hand on her shoulder, making little circles like she did when Rachel had a stomachache. Rachel thought it was the first time she had ever seen anyone touch Ms. Moore other than a doctor. She knew she had never seen her get a hug, or more than a handshake from anyone that she could remember. Ms. Moore wasn’t the huggy type. The fact that she was letting Vivian comfort her made Rachel think her defenses must be down. She bet her mom was telling Ms. Moore how they should mind their own business and everything would be fine.

Rachel puffed air into her cheeks, making them inflate like twin balloons, then blew out hard, making a noise her mom would have called rude. Neither her mom nor Ms. Moore looked her way. She couldn’t stand this anymore. It felt like the digim on the mantel was staring at her; those blue eyes that looked so much like Pathik’s. He was out there somewhere, she knew he was, probably cold and scared, but still there. Her mom had said that he probably ran away after he saw her and Ms. Moore tonight, but she knew he hadn’t. Pathik wasn’t going to run away without doing everything he could to make sure his father was okay.

If
her
dad were there Rachel knew that he would be helping Pathik, not sitting in some room convincing himself why it would be better not to do anything at all. She knew her mom was scared, but that was no excuse for deserting Pathik. She couldn’t believe Vivian was actually that kind of a person.

She took several deep breaths, as though she were getting ready to dive under water. She was going to walk right in there and tell her mom what she thought of her, what her
dad
would think of her if he were alive. Vivian might not like hearing it, but it was the truth. Rachel was tired of all the lies. She hopped up off the sofa and started toward the parlor quickly; she didn’t want to give herself a chance to change her mind.

“Mom, we have to help Pathik.” The two women hadn’t seen her approaching, and both turned in surprise.

“We can’t just do nothing. He came all this way, and if Dad were here, he would help, and I can’t help it if you’re scared. You are doing the wrong thing! You’re being a coward!”