The Child Thief

by Bella Forrest

  Maybe I was just overtired and my imagination was running wild, but I couldn’t deny the feeling that Nathan was definitely on the right track. Was leading us all onto the right track. I hoped that I could meet him one day, as he sounded like a brave and brilliant man, or woman.

  “I get you, Robin,” Nelson replied with a yawn of her own, leaning back in her chair to stretch out her arms. “And I’m looking forward to meeting these people myself.”

  “Hux actually said that Nathan’s planning to open the portal in about a week, so you shouldn’t have to wait long,” I said with a smile, remembering what he’d told Noreen.

  Another yawn then overtook me, and this time, I could no longer fight it. “Okay, guys, I’m signing off now. Sleep well.”

  “Ciao.”

  “Night-night.”

  “Toodle-pip.”

  I signed out and shut off the tablet with a contented sigh, then laid back and drifted off before I could even brush my teeth. I was soon lost in a lucid dream filled with vast skies and endless possibilities.

  11

  I took the train to Lakerville the next evening, as I didn’t feel like another several-hour-long ride on my motorbike. Honestly, I should have just taken it the day before, too, to Umberland, but the trains at rush hour made me feel claustrophobic, and I tried to avoid them as much as I could. This journey, however, would be too far; Lakerville was a town by the coast, and I could get a direct connection from my nearest station that would get me there within an hour, while it would have taken hours on my bike.

  Upon disembarking the train at my destination, I exited through the barriers and gazed around the gloomy station entrance, expecting Hux to be lurking around somewhere in the shadows. But he wasn’t. I frowned and checked the time on my phone. It was eight minutes past our meeting time—8:08 p.m.—and he’d said to wait for him just outside the station.

  My nerves started to spike again, in spite of how things had gone yesterday. Though this time it was less about fear of him, and more about worry for him. My mind started dishing out worst-case scenarios, involving him being caught or arrested, and before I knew it I was approaching full-on panic mode.

  Then I grabbed hold of the reins and reminded myself that he was only eight minutes late. There could be other explanations.

  Taking a deep breath, I walked onto the street that ran parallel to the station and gazed up and down it, though I still didn’t spot him. I crossed the road to the parking lot on the other side, wondering if he might be leaning against the hood of a car to rest his legs or something while waiting for me.

  As I entered the lot, my assumption proved correct. Except he wasn’t sitting. I heard his voice drifting over a row of cars from my right, and turned to see him standing, his back toward me as he paced. His phone was pressed to his ear, so it was probably just as well I hadn’t immediately attempted to call him to verify his location; he was preoccupied.

  Then, as I began to make out the words of his conversation, I realized his voice sounded oddly strained.

  “Wait, what do you mean? Yes. I know how she reacted. I know. But I want to try again. I already told her I’m coming this week. No. No, of course not, but I… I need to get to the bottom of this for both of our sakes. If I keep at it, I know she’ll come around. I mean, she has to, dammit. I’m the only family she has left.” There was a pause, and I recoiled, chastising myself for encroaching on what was clearly a very personal conversation. I moved to back away instinctively, but not before I caught him saying in a voice that was softer, cracked almost: “She… She really said that?”

  I almost stalled to listen further, but then he began to turn, and I was forced to duck out of view, not wanting him to see me eavesdropping. I discreetly made my way back to the other side of the road to wait for him.

  Still, my mind couldn’t help but wonder what the conversation had been about. From the snippets I’d heard, I guessed the she must be his sister. And it sounded like they were having trouble in their relationship.

  I tried to stop my musings there, because it was totally none of my business, though the question still played at the back of my mind—even while I assumed a casual pose outside the station, leaning against a wall and pretending I hadn’t spotted him across the road yet. I knew he’d come over when he was ready.

  About three minutes later, he did. I kept my eyes to the ground as I sensed him approaching, then lifted them slowly to his face when his footsteps stopped in front of me. His hands were stuffed into the deep pockets of his coat, which was zipped all the way up to his neck tonight, and I could tell he was trying to keep his expression neutral in front of me. Though he couldn’t hide the storm whirling behind his eyes. Nor his tense jaw and slightly uneven breathing.

  “Hi,” I said with forced brightness, trying to sound as if I knew nothing.

  “Hi,” he replied, his voice a couple of tones deeper than usual. He broke eye contact quickly and pulled out his pad, and after swiping a few times, pointed down the road to our left. “We need to head that way,” he said, then took off down the sidewalk.

  I was forced to move at a half jog to keep up with his long strides, while trying to keep my breathing in check and my mind focused on the task at hand.

  Hux cleared his throat. “Hope your journey home last night wasn’t too rough,” he said, clearly trying to distract his own mind, too.

  “Um, it was okay,” I replied, glad for the small talk.

  “Oh, and something you’ll be interested to know: Nathan decided to launch the portal early, since between myself and the other admins who’ve begun recruiting, we already have around eleven groups on the list. There will probably be a few glitches, as he’s launching ahead of schedule, but he wants to start letting people in as soon as they’re recruited. Strike while the iron’s hot, kind of thing.”

  “Oh,” I said, genuinely excited. “So when will I get my invite?”

  “Nathan’s going to be sending them out this evening sometime, so by the time you get back home, you’ll probably have one.”

  “I’ll definitely check in when I get back,” I said. And I also made a mental note to touch base with my team to see if they’d gotten theirs yet. “It feels like everything’s moving so quickly, all of a sudden,” I remarked.

  He gave a dry smile. “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s a big step for the platform.”

  “Sure is. It’s a big step for all of us, really.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  There was a span of silence as we rounded a corner, and then I wondered aloud, “What do you think is going to come of it?”

  As he was an admin of the platform, I was curious to hear his take.

  His expression lightened somewhat as he gave the question some thought. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he replied after a beat. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and it’s just so hard to say until we have people together and a better idea of what resources will join the pool. At the very least, I’m hoping we can shift more people’s perspectives. Remind them that it doesn’t have to be this way.”

  I nodded. In the beginning, when the CRAS was introduced, there had been enough people with fires in their hearts for protests and riots to break out all around the country. Many were unhappy with it, and they had the courage to show it. Now, however, it felt like atrophy had set in among the people. The government hadn’t responded kindly to the public protests, and they had long since died out, replaced with unhappy acceptance of the status quo.

  Except for the people who went underground with their flame of discontentment. The people who descended into the shadow web. There were still protests going on, I reminded myself. There were just fewer participants than there used to be, and they weren’t public anymore. It was a new kind of protest, where we had to work harder to get people’s attention, while also ensuring that we stayed safe. Safety versus action was going to be a very tricky balance to manage, but I had to believe that where there was a will, there was a way.

  There had to be. B
ecause I feared that with each year the CRAS remained in place, it would become harder to uproot. The more we came to accept it in our lives, the less chance we’d have of ever getting rid of it. If change didn’t start happening now, then who knew how long this scheme would run? How many more generations would have to bow to it? How many more families would be torn apart?

  “Right,” I replied, fiddling anxiously with my phone in my coat pocket. “We just gotta make sure we stay safe.”

  He nodded. “Yes. Especially once we move on to the less-trusted groups.”

  “When will that be?” I asked.

  “Well, I only have five trusted ones left, and I’m intending to meet with them by the end of this week, beginning of next. Honestly, there aren’t that many trusted people on the platform—trusted as in, verifiably trusted by Nathan. And we’re not expecting all of them to accept our invites.”

  “Which is why you’re planning to take the risk of reaching out to the less-trusted ones?”

  He nodded. “We’re all pretty sure there are a lot of other genuine members out there. Most members just didn’t make the top list because their activities are sparser on the platform, giving Nathan few data points and making it harder to detect their positions either way. So yeah, our visits to them will be a bit more… thorough.”

  “You mean, you’ll do some kind of interrogation?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Of sorts.”

  “I see,” I replied. I wondered what that would involve, exactly, but then noticed the ocean coming into view at the end of the long station road, and felt the press of a different question. “And who are we visiting today?” I asked, wondering what kind of people or person would want to meet us out here.

  He gave me a cryptic look, and I rolled my eyes. “You get a kick out of keeping me in suspense, don’t you?”

  He chuckled, then shook his head. “Nah. I’m not lying when I say it’s protocol, but I actually don’t know much about these people, other than that they come recommended on the platform. All I know is they’re due to show up at the end of the pier”—he glanced at his watch—“in about ten minutes. So let’s hurry up.”

  He poured on the speed, and I had to move at a slow run to keep up. I guessed his phone conversation had set us back a few minutes, plus I had been eight minutes late myself. When we reached the end of the road, the ocean came into full, glorious view. It wasn’t often that I visited the coast, and I breathed in deeply, enjoying the crisp, salty air in my lungs.

  The woods in which I lived were fresh and calm, away from the pollution of the towns and estates, but still, nothing could quite beat the ocean in my opinion.

  We arrived on a broad promenade and headed straight for the wide pier, which looked like it stretched out for at least half a mile. Moored boats bobbed on either side of it, though the dock in general seemed pretty empty of vessels, and also of people, except for a handful of couples enjoying an evening walk.

  I was out of breath by the time we reached the end of the pier, and I dragged in deep lungfuls of air. Waves lapped hard against the base of the pier, sending spray up into my face, and I relished the feeling. It was a surprisingly warm evening, so I slipped off my coat, folding it over my arms and then keeping it held in front of me so that it still concealed the gun I kept around my waist.

  I watched as Hux did the same, stripping off his jacket and revealing his broad torso, hugged by another slightly too-small shirt. We were three minutes early, and I thought about reminding him about my sewing offer, as small talk while we waited for whoever we were meeting to arrive, but then I remembered a more pressing topic I had been meaning to broach.

  “Hey, I understand if this is confidential information, but I was wondering what happens to the kids who are born at Noreen and Davine’s place. Same with the women.”

  “Ah.” He hesitated, his eyes switching to the ocean. “Yeah. I do know, but I don’t have permission to share it. At least, not right now.”

  “I understand,” I replied, even though I felt disappointed. “I guess I just wondered if they stay in the country, or leave somehow…” I added, hoping to get at least that little morsel of information out of him.

  If there were other ways people had found to disappear, then that was good news—for all of us. Because if we were going to become bolder in our rebellion against the system, I sensed that having as many ways as possible for people to hide themselves from the government would be useful, in times to come.

  “I can tell you that they stay in the country,” he replied.

  I nodded slowly. It meant they must have some system that was keeping them hidden, and together. Which was very, very interesting. My plan had always been to flee, once I found my daughter, but if there was another way, I was willing to consider it. The United Nation of America, for all its leadership’s faults, was my country, after all, and I didn’t want to be forced to leave if there was a viable alternative. I just couldn’t imagine what that might be right now.

  Maybe, as the days and weeks unfolded, and I came to know more and more people, I would find out.

  Suddenly another question hit me, one that was more important than anything I’d asked him so far. “This may be a long shot, but I figure that you’re surrounded by hackers and IT people on a daily basis, even if you’re not one yourself.” I glanced around the pier to verify that we were still alone, before continuing in a lower voice. “Do you know of anyone who’s ever managed to break into the state’s adoption archives?”

  I waited for his response with bated breath. Like I said before, Nelson was amazing with computers, and I had a lot of faith in her, but still. Who was to say that there weren’t people who were even more skilled than her out there, who might’ve already found a way to breach the archives?

  Hux shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t. Though, to be honest, it’s not something I’ve really asked about. It’s possible there are people on the network who have figured out a way in. I guess that’s a question you can raise in the portal. The other admins will spend time in there too, to answer questions wherever they can.”

  His reply sent a pulse of excitement rippling through me and added extra fire to my heels in regard to helping him reach out to as many people as possible. The more minds we had together, the more likely we were to come up with a solution to the archives. I was sure there had to be tons of others on the platform who wanted to break into it, to figure out where their children were. The answer could be out there, and it could just be a question of meeting the right person.

  I was about to continue the conversation when I noticed Hux squinting at something over the water. My eyes followed the direction he was looking in, and spotted a small ship heading directly toward us, its dull headlights glowing through the darkness.

  12

  We both stared at the vessel as it floated over the dark waves toward us. Our eyes then moved along the length of the pier, and, given that there was no sign of anyone approaching from that direction, it occurred to me that the people we were waiting for might be on the boat.

  I looked to Hux in question, and he shrugged.

  We continued watching the small ship as it slowed to a stop, its side brushing gently against the tip of the pier before mooring. Now that it was closer, I could better make out its features beneath the light of the pier’s lampposts. It looked large enough to hold fifteen or twenty people, and had definitely seen better days. Its exterior was rust-ridden, the original dark blue paint barely noticeable, as was the painted sign at the front. The Forebearer, it seemed to read.

  The sound of a door opening drew our attention to the superstructure at the top. An elderly man stepped out, his hair shoulder-length and white beneath a floppy brown cap that hung lopsided on his head. He wore a thick, wooly sweater, and seemed to hold a cane in one hand as he hobbled toward the railing to peer down at us.

  “Mr. X?” he asked, his voice gruff.

  Hux exchanged another glance with me, and I could tell that even he was su
rprised by the means by which this person had arrived. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yup.”

  The old man nodded back, then retreated into the ship. A minute later, a ramp descended from the belly of the vessel, revealing a dark space behind it, and connected to the edge of the pier.

  Hux and I hurried across the ramp and into the open space, which seemed to be some kind of storage chamber, filled with boxes and piles of rope, and reeking of seaweed. The ramp creaked behind us as it closed, sealing us inside the dark chamber, and I shivered as I heard the sound of footsteps overhead.

  Who were these people?

  A moment later, a trap door opened above us, spilling warm light down into the room and illuminating a winding metal staircase that led upward. To my surprise, a young, curious face gazed down at us through the hole. A boy who looked no older than four, with round, pink cheeks and curly, shoulder-length brown hair.

  “Move over, Rufus! You’re hoggin’ all the space!” another child spoke up from behind him, and a small hand closed around Rufus’s left shoulder and pushed him to one side. A girl around age six, with the same curly brown hair and round face, appeared next to him, clearly his sibling.

  “Now you’re blocking the way, too!” another child’s voice complained. “I can’t see!” A third face squeezed in beside the first two. Another boy with curly brown hair, who looked about eight.

  “All of you out of the way!” a female adult voice growled. One by one, the children were pulled away from the trap door’s entrance, and then a heavyset brunette came into view. She had the same curly brown hair, so I guessed she was their mother. “I’m sorry for that,” she said pleasantly, plastering a broad smile across her face as she met our gazes. “Please come up.”

  Hux and I frowned at each other, and then scaled the staircase, with him taking the lead. We emerged into some kind of living area, lined with sofas and carpets and… people. There had to be over twenty of them standing around the room, all of their eyes fixed on us.