The One Safe Place (14 page)

Twelve

THE NEXT MORNING WAS
so exactly like the one before that Devin felt he had been at the Home for years rather than just three days. On his farm there had been constant activity, seasons of growth and labor, colors that sang with different voices as the months turned. And the city was full of movement too; to stay still there was to die. But here time seemed to pause. Time and the children too, all of them in limbo, waiting.

The only new activity was in the small meadow where staff members were setting up tents. Mrs. Babbage was overseeing the job.

“We’re having a campout!” she told him. “We’ll sing songs and roast marshmallows over the fire and sleep under the stars. It’s ever so much fun. I’m sure you’ll love it, Devin. The Administrator wants everyone to be involved.”

“So everyone has to do it?”

“Everyone wants to,” she corrected. “It’s a group activity. We have group activities of all sorts. Last week we had sports day. There were all sorts of races, and the winner got a medal and so did everyone else.”

“Why would you get a medal if you don’t win?”

“We’re all winners here, Devin.”

Devin looked at her carefully. She was so kind, so warm and chirpy, despite her timid manner and droopy clothes. Devin couldn’t believe she had any idea how bad it was for the kids in the Place. He thought maybe she was just dim.

He smiled politely and walked on.

Devin was passing by Kit’s room and saw that the door was ajar. Kit was sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees, her head down. Frisker was curled up against her ankles. Devin knew at once that she was back to normal.

“Hey, you okay?”

She looked up at him with a tear-stained face and then buried her head again.

He went over and sat down beside her, not saying anything. He could see the top of her shoulders as she leaned forward, the old scars and welts clearly visible above the neckline of her pale green dress. They sat together in silence for a while.

“Can you talk about it?” Devin said at last.

Kit sniffed and wiped her nose.

“She wanted to see me early,” she said. “I had to go to the tower. You weren’t up yet. When I got there, she looked angry.”

“The Administrator?”

Kit nodded. “She said Roman shouldn’t have brought me because . . . because I wasn’t right for the Home. She knew I’d been badly treated. She said I was damaged.”

Devin clenched his fists.

“I thought she was going to send me away and I’d lose Frisker and . . . and everything. But then she started talking about a shortage of something and how it couldn’t be helped. I didn’t understand. Not that it mattered much. I don’t think she’s the sort of person who cares if you understand or not.”

Devin nodded.

“She said it helped that I was ‘unusually attractive,’ which I thought was really stupid, but I didn’t argue because I wanted to stay so badly. She told me to go to this special building and I had to go right away.”

“I’ve seen it,” Devin said.

“They gave me a shot,” Kit said. “Then I had this horrible feeling . . . You know how sometimes when you’re just going to sleep and you think you’re falling and you kind of jerk awake?”

He nodded again.

“It was like that, only it lasted for ages, that feeling of falling, and I didn’t wake up. I dreamed a lot. Bad dreams mainly, really bad ones.”

Kit said the dreams were strange because in the past, sometimes she had nightmares where everybody was looking at her. But in the Place, it was just the opposite; she dreamed that nobody was looking at her. It was as if she was invisible, but instead of feeling glad about this, she felt terrible, lonely and ignored and full of sadness. In the dream she came to a hall of mirrors, but even she couldn’t look at herself. She crouched and covered her head, overcome by panic and shame. She kept having this same dream, over and over until she thought she might go crazy.

“I hope I never have to do it again,” she said. “Because I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You probably will have to do it again,” Devin told her. “All the kids here have done it lots of times.”

Kit looked at him with anguish on her face. “But why, Devin? What’s it for?”

Devin wondered what he should tell her. Everyone he’d asked had a different theory. There was Luke’s idea that the whole thing was a scientific experiment. He said some of the other kids agreed with this, although a few of the younger children were convinced that magic was involved, that it was some sort of spell or enchantment and the Administrator was a witch in disguise. Karen had just shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t know and she didn’t like thinking about it. Thinking about it made it worse, she said. Vanessa—source of all gossip and rumor—claimed she’d heard that it was all a test.

“A test?” Kit asked when he explained this to her.

“To see if we’re . . . ready for adoption,” Devin said. “But I don’t think that can be right. I mean, who would do that just to—”

“That’s it!” Kit interrupted. “That’s got to be it.” She scrambled to her feet, her face suddenly eager. “It’s a test to see who’s ready for adoption. Or to get us ready for adoption.” She picked up Frisker and buried her face in his fur. “That’s it, isn’t it, Frisk? And when I do get adopted, I’m taking you too.”

“I don’t know,” Devin said. “It just doesn’t sound right. I think Luke’s idea makes more sense.”

“I can take it if it’s a test,” Kit went on, ignoring him. “I can take a hundred visits to that place if it’ll make me ready for adoption.”

“But it’s bad,” Devin protested. “It makes people strange. The other kids call it being Spoiled . . .”

But Kit wasn’t listening to him. She wasn’t even looking at him. She was playing with Frisker as if he hadn’t spoken at all. For the first time since they’d become friends on the city rooftop, Devin felt distance between them.

“There’s a campout tonight,” he remarked awkwardly, trying to change the subject. “We have to go. It’s a group activity.”

“A campout!” Kit exclaimed brightly, her voice a little too loud. “Wonderful! Great!”

The campout was neither wonderful nor particularly great, despite the fact that Mrs. Babbage kept hovering around, clapping her hands and telling everyone that it was all “ever so much fun!” There was a fire and there were marshmallows on sticks and small lanterns inside every tent. But none of the children looked like they were enjoying themselves.

Devin was sitting next to Pavel, who had been sent to the Place that morning and was now in the Dream once again. He had caught a couple of moths fluttering over the dusky grass and was slowly pulling them apart, flicking the scraps of wings into the fire with a contented, almost peaceful expression on his face. Devin looked away, repulsed. Everyone else had also averted their eyes, although Devin sensed that there was something more to it than simply not liking to look at poor Pavel. He saw how the children shrank away, their bodies still, almost frozen. Devin was reminded of a rabbit he had once seen, caught in the open, under the shadow of a gliding owl. The animal hadn’t tried to run or hide. It had simply stayed there, rooted to the spot with fear.

The children were like that. They didn’t just dislike seeing someone in the Dream. It seemed to terrify them.

On the other side of Devin, Luke poked angrily at the fire with a stick, the light making his eyes look dark and sunken. Kit sat in silence, her face expressionless. Only Malloy seemed to be making the most of the group activity. Having grown up as a Nomad, he was an expert at cooking over an open fire, and he was busy wrapping small packages in leaves and placing them carefully among the coals. He left them there to cook for a few minutes, then fished them out again.

He wriggled his way in between Devin and Luke and offered them each a package. They were very hot, and the boys had to pick the leaves off carefully before eating them.

“That’s kind of good,” Luke said, chewing. “What is it?”

“Grubs, mostly,” Malloy said. “And some mashed potato to hold it together.”

Luke made a terrible face and spat.

“Lots of nutrition in bugs,” Malloy informed him. “Mom makes a great beetle-chip cookie. Not what you’re used to, though, is it, rich kid?”

“Not exactly.”

Kit had been quiet all evening, but now she seemed to come to life. “What’s it like living in The Meadows?” she asked eagerly. “I bet it’s lovely. Everything you want.”

“I guess so,” Luke said, frowning. “But when you’re used to something it just feels ordinary. I spent a lot of time at school. I qualified for Hi-Speed Learning. Not many kids qualify because the program can mess with your head. But once they hook you up you can cover a whole grade in a month.”

Pavel had finished with the moths and had started picking at a large scab on his knee, levering a fingernail underneath it with deep concentration.

“Hurts so good,” he remarked in a small, sticky voice to nobody in particular.

He can talk when he’s in the Dream, Devin thought. The realization disturbed him almost as much as what Pavel was doing, although he didn’t quite know why.

Mrs. Babbage jumped to her feet and waved her arms. “Time for songs!” she announced.

“Oh, no.” Luke groaned.

Devin didn’t know any songs, and he wondered how Mrs. Babbage was going to persuade the kids to start singing. She didn’t even try. Instead, music began to play from speakers hidden somewhere nearby and he heard a recording of children’s voices.

The recording went on and on. The song was all about walking in the woods with backpacks on, and there were many verses. After it was over, another song began, and then a third. The children sat stiff with boredom. There was a movement beyond the fire, and out of the corner of his eye, Devin saw three or four Visitors, standing and nodding to the music. One was extremely fat and unable to nod because he didn’t appear to have a neck. His head merely bobbed to and fro on the flabby layering of his many chins. The moment the other children caught sight of the Visitors, most of them began singing as heartily as they could.

“Hiking! Hiking! Hiking all the day!

“We have stout boots and we know the way!

“The world is full of great de-light . . .”

“Until you get a big bug bite!” Malloy sang in Devin’s ear. He rolled his eyes and grinned.

The Visitors wandered away and the children stopped singing. Mrs. Babbage turned the music off abruptly.

“Tents, everyone!” she called.

Devin was sharing a tent with Malloy, Luke, and Ansel. Kit was in the tent next door with a couple of other girls. After they had all crawled inside, Malloy made an announcement. “Nobody go to sleep,” he said. “I want to go look at the posts again.”

Luke groaned slightly. “We’ve tried this before, Malloy. I can’t figure out what sets off the lasers, let alone how to keep it from happening.”

“We haven’t tried using fire.”

Luke looked thoughtful. “True.”

They waited in silence, listening to the voices and rustling of children in the other tents, the footsteps of adults passing to and fro. At last all was quiet. Malloy stuck his head out of the tent cautiously. “Eagle One to Eagle Two,” he said. “We have clearance.”

“No one out there at all?”

“That’s a negative, Eagle Two.”

“Stop talking like that,” Luke hissed in irritation.

“Order acknowledged. Over and out.”

They emerged and made their way quietly through the camp. Kit stuck her head out of her tent and then hurried to join them. As he passed the fire, Luke picked up a stick. It was still burning slowly, the tip white with heat. They left the camp and passed by the farmyard, Devin stumbling along on the uneven ground. Where the path ended, they pushed through bushes, Malloy leading the way. He stopped about ten feet from the first post, and they stared up at it. It was made of slender steel, and a red light flickered on the very top, casting a weird, unearthly glow.

“That shows it’s active,” Malloy told him.

Together, Luke and Malloy had tried throwing different things past the posts, trying to see what set the lasers off. They’d thrown plates and toys, handfuls of earth, rocks and sticks. Malloy had once even flung his underpants. But nothing worked. In the end, Luke had concluded that the posts were only triggered by living things. This meant they were probably heat sensitive, and if so, it might be possible to cross them by somehow masking the natural warmth of their bodies.