The Tithe

by Elle Hill

  “Good morning,” she grumbled as she plunked down next to him with a sigh.

  Blue remained silent. She didn’t blame him; it wasn’t as though imrabi has lined up to teach him the social niceties.

  After a moment, he asked her in his dry, flat voice, “Why say that when you don’t mean it?”

  That’s what he’d been thinking? She opened her mouth, closed it. Finally, she said, “No one ever means it. Nobody likes mornings. I don’t know. It’s just a ritual. You don’t mean it, but you say it anyway.” She paused. “It’s like when someone says ‘thanks’ and you say ‘you’re welcome.’ You’re welcome to what? It doesn’t make sense. You just do it because you’re supposed to.”

  “So you all lie to one another all the time?”

  She exhaled, rubbed her eyes. “We’re not lying.” Were they? Was it a lie to say “good morning” when you didn’t think mornings were ever good things? “They’re not lies because no one believes them. They’re empty rituals.”

  “Then why bother?”

  “How should I know?” she snapped. What was she, a scholar of human behavior? Well, a scholar maybe. Before. But that didn’t mean . . . She sighed. “Okay, sorry. Why do them? I guess they’re not meaningless. Or maybe so, but mostly on the surface. Underneath, we’re taking the time to keep things civil, to say to each other we may hate morning and annoying, empty rituals, but we like this person enough to engage in them. And we value social, well, harmony, I guess. Like the Bit’ says. Maybe those rituals are better characterized as the lubrication that keep our social interactions running smoothly.” She shrugged stiffly.

  “Thank you,” Blue said then added, “So you like me enough to engage in empty social rituals?”

  Josh stared at his sharp-angled profile. How to answer that? Eventually, she rushed, “Yes. Do you know what time it is?”

  “It’s a few minutes after six,” he replied, serene and inflectionless as always.

  How did he know that?

  “It’s kind of hard to be here, without even glimpses of the sun,” she said, and then stopped, in part because she was babbling to fill the silence and also because, well, Blue had never seen sunlight. “Or, uh, feelings of it,” she stammered.

  Maybe she should go back to bed.

  By the time Lynna joined them, Josh had discussed books with Avery and fetched tea for herself and Blue. Millen had not made an appearance, but then again, neither had his friend, Cam/Kim.

  “Good morning,” Lynna chirped, and Josh smiled.

  “Morning,” Josh said.

  “Good morning,” Blue said carefully. “Would you like tea? It’s leaves and herbs steeped in hot water.”

  “Uh, yeah, I’ve had tea before. Not my favorite. I’m a coffee kind of woman,” Lynna said, and smiled.

  “Marcus and a few other people are making breakfast this morning,” Josh said.

  Lynna sank down with a groan. “I am so gross.”

  “Who told you that?” Josh snapped, looking around. She’d been wondering where the sneaky, door-shutting kid had gone. He’d managed to avoid her all day yesterday.

  Lynna laughed. “I meant my clothes. I haven’t worn dirty clothes for three days since, well, ever. But thanks for guarding my honor.” Her grin showed small, even white teeth.

  Josh sank back against the cushions and sipped her tea.

  “The third hallway contains a room filled with washing machines,” Blue said. “Marcus announced it about an hour ago.”

  “Praise angels! Metaphorically speaking, of course.” Lynna brushed her hand over her long black skirt. “When can we sign up? And what do we wear while our clothes are getting clean?”

  “Talk to Jame, one of Marcus’ friends. He’s in charge of laundry shifts,” Josh said. “Short man, brown hair, smiles a lot, has a stutter.” Josh had plans to wash her clothes around four.

  Lynna nodded.

  “Speaking of Marcus . . .” Josh stopped, waited.

  Lynna raised her eyebrows in polite inquiry. She waited back.

  Oh, heaven. How did people ask these kinds of questions, especially of sensitive people like Lynna? “He has nice hair,” Josh said carefully.

  Lynna nodded slowly.

  “And he’s charismatic.”

  Lynna stared.

  Josh sighed. “I asked him this morning, and he’s not married or attached.”

  Lynna’s eyes twinkled over a suddenly sunny smile. Aha! She knew it!

  “That’s great news!” Lynna gushed.

  Josh nodded smugly, arms crossed over her chest.

  “I had no idea you were interested in him. He just doesn’t seem your type,” Lynna trilled.

  “What? No! I asked for you.”

  “For me?” Before Lynna dropped her eyes and hunched her shoulders, her face crumpled, burned. She shook her head very slightly.

  Oh, dear. This was why she should remain tucked into a rab’ri, far away from people. “Sorry,” Josh mumbled. “I just, I misread. I misunderstood, I mean. Sorry.”

  Chin tucked against her chest, Lynna asked, “You thought I felt that way?”

  “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “No, don’t be sorry.” Lynna looked up with one of her nose-down smiles. “I do feel awkward around him. I’m a little shy, anyway, but Marcus . . .” She shook her head wryly. “He’s exactly what my mom would have wanted for me. Before I became a Tithe, she used to throw me in the path of handsome men all the time.”

  “Sounds awful,” Josh deadpanned.

  Lynna snorted.

  “Lynna isn’t interested in men,” Blue said.

  The woman in question stared at him, eyebrows inclined.

  “True?” Josh asked.

  Lynna nodded. Then, sending a look Blue’s way, said, “Yeah. Marcus reminds me of what my mom wanted for me. I felt bad, but I was grateful when she stopped trying to find me a nice boy a few years ago.”

  Josh shook her head. “I misinterpreted everything.” A blind man, a socially backward blind man, had figured out Lynna’s inclinations long before she had.

  Lynna shrugged. “I shouldn’t be so awkward around him. It’s not his fault my mom would have called him son-in-law before knowing his name.”

  Speaking of should, what was she doing wondering about crushes in a life-and-death situation? She was acting like the young teens that would stumble into the rab’ri’s services on Shabuah and giggle while peering over the prayer books at other cute teens.

  “Breakfast!” Marcus announced.

  Praise angels.

  “You stay here,” Lynna said. “Blue and I will grab you something.” They rushed off, Lynna with her brisk walk and Blue with his limber stride.

  Breakfast consisted of oatmeal, vat sausage, and plenty of tea and coffee. Powdered cream added flavor, although not necessarily tastiness, to the oatmeal and the coffee. Josh even found three slices of freeze-dried strawberries, a rare treat, in her bowl.

  After breakfast, she insisted on helping with the dishes and scowled at everyone who tried to dissuade her. No one had ever mollycoddled her before; blast if it would start now, at the tail-end of her life and while among her own kind.

  Twenty minutes later, limp-shuffling back to her precious seat between Blue and Lynna, Josh had to concentrate on keeping her balance. Her feet burned, her calves quaked, even her hands shook in sympathetic tremors. Next time, she’d exercise more prudence and less pride. Maybe she could find something productive to do while remaining seated.

  Fifteen feet away, her space on the round couch awaited. Beige had never looked so beautiful to her.

  From behind her on the right came the uneven sound of a foot scraping against concrete. Josh turned and found Cam/Kim, the muscular man with the wasted right leg, hobbling to her with the assistance of a brushed aluminum cane. Josh detested canes. She found them awkward, ugly, and only marginally useful. Kind of like her legs.

  The limbs in question screeched their silent language as she turned to Cam. She wobbled brief
ly and managed to steady herself with an awkward scuffle and out-flung arms.

  Blue, hand outstretched, reached her a few seconds before Cam. His hand met her back, slid impersonally to her elbow, and grasped it. Her portable breathing cane. Charming.

  Cam looked awful. His face shone a mottled pink and white, his puffy eyelids covered eyes that twitched wetly like two snails, his fists clenched and unclenched like angry pistons.

  “Millen is gone,” he announced as he limped up to her. “We checked, and nobody can find him anywhere.”

  Well, that answered that.

  “I’m sorry,” Josh said.

  The left corner of his upper lip twitched, more a tic than a sneer. “And you’re still here. Why’s that?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know,” she said quietly, even though every head had already swiveled in their direction.

  “Where’s my friend?” he shouted. Droplets of saliva struck Josh’s face. “Why are you here and he’s not?”

  She didn’t respond. Cam wasn’t really talking to her but to all of them, to the angels, maybe even to Elovah Herself.

  Cam’s voice rose, a siren in the silence. “My whole life got taken away when they chose me for the Tithe. But in the cells, I found Millen. It’s like Elovah gave me this gift that I had for not even a year before taking him away. How come Millen was the first one taken? Why not you or anybody else?” His moist, red eyes darted around the room.

  “I’m sorry, Cam,” Josh said. She realized this was a mistake as soon as she said it. He snapped back to the front, all his fury and grief funneled forward. At, she couldn’t help but notice, her.

  “My name is Kann!” he yelled, and spelled it. “I can write, too! If you’re—”

  “That’s enough.” Blue’s emotionless voice sliced through Kann’s tirade. The older man bit off a word and stared at them both, teeth clenched. “Joshua doesn’t know any more than you do. This is pointless.”

  Air hissed through Kann’s teeth. “Go sit down, babysitter,” he spat. “You have nothing to say to me. You still have your girlfriend.”

  “Sitting down is a good idea,” Josh said. Her legs, quaking in pain and exertion rather than fear, agreed. “Why don’t we all do it?”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Kann snarled, “till someone can tell me why the angels passed you by that first night and grabbed my friend the next.”

  Josh swallowed angry words. She got grief, she empathized with Kann, but her legs ached too furiously for her to summon any more patience with this blowhard. Shaking her head in annoyance with her physical limitations, she turned away from Kann. Hate Blue’s interference, she might, but his hand on her arm was the only thing keeping her from toppling forward.

  “Don’t you turn away from me!” Kann yelled.

  Josh flinched involuntarily at the volume, wobbled.

  A heavy hand thumped against the back of her shoulder. Unbalanced and weighted down by the momentum of the gesture, Josh pitched forward and collided with a breathless oomph with the floor. She landed painfully, lightly smacking her forehead against the concrete. A metallic flavor coated her tongue. Nonetheless, she almost sobbed with relief as the pain in her legs eased. She lay there, breathing deeply while the burn in her legs quieted to an ache.

  Scuffles and cracks from behind her finally encouraged Josh to roll painfully onto her back. Five feet from her, the force of Kann’s fist drove Blue’s head to the side.

  Josh cried out in horror.

  Blue’s fist had already formed its own response. With only a snap of his head, Kann absorbed the force of the punch, but Blue’s next move, a forceful shove against his chest, sent him sprawling to the floor on his back.

  Eyes still trained straight ahead, expression eerily blank, Blue managed to avoid Kann’s kick. He moved lightly around Kann’s prone body and snapped a kick against the older man’s side. Kann cried out. Face still unlined and empty of ire, eyes cool, Blue drew back his boot once again.

  “Blue, stop it!” Josh cried out. Blue halted and let his foot drop back to the ground. He turned fully toward her then, and she saw a bright red knot on his left cheekbone. “Help me up,” she ordered, although she had no idea if she could stand.

  A minute later, leaning more on Blue than her own legs, she shuffled to the couch before dropping painfully onto it beside a wide-eyed Lynna. “Sit next to me,” she murmured to Blue, who wordlessly complied.

  Three people tended to Kann as he lay cursing on the floor. Josh tried to look worldly and nonchalant, but she’d never even heard some of the words spraying like gunfire from Kann’s mouth: male body parts, requests to Elovah to blast Blue’s soul, remarks involving dubious sexual positions.

  “Your, uh, your mouth is bleeding,” Lynna said. She reached a hand out before awkwardly drawing it back.

  Josh touched her finger to her lips and felt moisture. “I bit my tongue,” she said. The coppery taste nauseated her, but she had nowhere to spit or wipe her mouth.

  “Are you all right?” Blue asked her.

  She nodded, hissed through her teeth, and moved her hand up to her temple. “Just a little headache,” she said. “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  Marcus walked by Josh, sat on the other side of Blue. He handed her two aspirin but no water glass.

  “You still need to officially account for your town’s residents,” he reminded Josh.

  She began to nod, stopped, and said, “Yeah.”

  “We all saw what happened,” Marcus began.

  Except Blue, Josh almost said, before biting her lip. Instead, she rubbed her calf through the boots. “But would you explain it, Blue?”

  Blue, facing forward, blinked and rubbed a finger over his cheekbone. “Kann confronted Joshua. She acted reasonably and humanely. Kann pushed her down, so I hit him.”

  Oh, heaven.

  “He, um, didn’t push me down,” Josh said. There was a lot more to say, but she wasn’t sure she was up to it. “He tried to restrain me, and I fell.”

  “Thank you for the correction,” Blue said, voice as calm as ever.

  “Doesn’t matter, does it?” Marcus asked him, eyes squinted.

  “No one should ever hurt Joshua,” Blue said.

  “Things are tense here,” Marcus pointed out. Josh almost snorted. “I appreciate your . . . concern for Josh, but I’m interested in maintaining the peace. No more fighting, okay, Blue?”

  He’s not a child on a playground, Josh thought.

  “As long as no one hurts Joshua,” Blue said, “I have no interest in fighting.”

  Marcus looked at her then. Keep your friend under control, his expression said.

  Josh pursed her lips.

  “Okay,” Marcus said. He inclined his head toward Josh, opened his mouth.

  “Yeah, I heard you,” Josh said. “And everyone but Pius is up and around. He told me yesterday he was a day sleeper, though. I’ll let you know when he gets up.”

  After Marcus’ departure, Josh fought to keep her head high while the weight of everyone’s attention, their speculation and judgment, pressed it downward. She gritted her teeth and stared straight ahead, ala Blue, refusing to glance around or disappear within the bubble of self. The less-populated kitchen, the quiet of her new bedroom: she wished she could snatch up Blue and retreat to either, but her overused legs dangled below her, cramped, inflamed, and useless. She supposed she could ask Blue to carry her to her room; that would be sure to ensnare the attention of even the most detached among them.

  They sat in relative silence for the next two hours. Even chatty Lynna, after grabbing Josh a glass of water for her aspirin, wandered away to help RJ and friends prepare a more elaborate lunch. At noon, Josh and the other nine town representatives reported in. As everyone expected, only Millen remained unaccounted for.

  Who will be next? Josh wondered, gazing into others’ apprehensive faces. And how many of them agreed with Kann that it should be her?

  A few feet from her, rocking in one o
f the armless chairs, a young man appeared to poke holes in the air while muttering angrily to himself. She couldn’t hear much of his diatribe, but she did catch something about fish, electricity, and chalcedony (at least she thought that was the word; she’d never heard it said out loud).