Luminary: Book Two In the Anomaly Trilogy

by Krista McGee

  I pick up a book by someone with a last name of Dickens. The book feels as if it could fall apart in my hands. The pages are brittle and yellow, and someone has written all along the sides of the pages and underlined sentences. We would never be allowed to do that in the State. And there are so many words. Too many. We were taught that communication should always be direct. Never use five words when one will suffice. Obviously this Dickens did not receive that same instruction.

  “Thalli.”

  Rhen’s voice surprises me, and I slam the book closed. “Yes. Of course. I am coming.” I am embarrassed to have been caught in here. Will Rhen and Berk laugh about me together when they are alone? The thought makes me sad. I should be thankful—we are here in this village, and the people seem friendly. They have food and pods. My friends are safe. But I still miss Berk.

  John, Berk, and the Scientists are sitting on the couches in the living area. Rhen and I sit in chairs facing them. The room is silent. The male Scientist clears his throat.

  “My name is Carey and I worked to help build the State. I was an aerospace engineer. For years I worked for a company that built shuttles that would travel to other planets. But we lost funding, and government officials approached me about their plan to build an underground superstructure. They knew nuclear war was a real threat.”

  “They wanted to build it to protect the government.” I knew this much.

  “Actually”—the woman Scientist looks at Carey—“that’s only partly true.”

  Rhen leans forward. “What?”

  “The government couldn’t afford the costs of building the State.” Carey’s voice is quiet. “So they allowed wealthy individuals to purchase a pod, promising they could live in the State in the event of a nuclear war.”

  John’s eyes are wide. “I never knew that.”

  “We didn’t know either.” Carey shakes his head. “There were many things we didn’t know.”

  “Go on.” I want to hear more. How much of what we were taught were lies?

  “We didn’t find out about that until much later,” Carey says. “When I came on, all I knew was I had a government grant to help construct the superstructure so it could survive a nuclear attack. Once those plans were in place, I helped develop the blueprints for the pods. We used the most state-of-the-art material we could find, knowing it might not be able to be replaced or repaired for many years.”

  “They have held up well.” Rhen nods. “Everything has.”

  “Everything but the oxygen.” The woman doesn’t say this with malice. She seems truly saddened about this fact. “Sorry, I am Kristie. Before working for the State, I developed technology to make hyperbaric chambers.”

  “You were an expert in managing oxygen.” Which is why she is so concerned about the oxygen levels in the State. Those were her creations.

  “Yes.” Kristie sighs. “I was so young when I started there. Barely thirty. I thought I was helping to save humanity. I was sure we could come up with something huge. The Scientists working there were the best in the country, and we were all working toward the same goal. Or so I thought.”

  “At first, we were.” Carey places his hand on Kristie’s knee. “But when the War actually happened, things changed.”

  “Because there was no warning?”

  Carey and Kristie exchange a look before Carey continues. “Is that what you were told?”

  “Yes.” I swallow hard.

  “We had equipment that allowed us to monitor the locations of the countries around the world that had nuclear weapons.”

  “You knew the attack was coming?” I have never seen John angry. His face is red and he stands up, moving away from Carey and Kristie.

  “We didn’t.” Kristie stands and takes John’s hands in her own. “Please believe me. If we had known, we would have contacted the president immediately.”

  “Some of the Scientists felt that the current government was not worth saving.”

  “So they didn’t tell them?”

  “No.” Kristie takes a deep breath. “Nor did they tell those who had invested in the pods.”

  “But the military had radars,” John says. “They knew. The White House knew. Right?”

  Carey lowers his head. “We had the most brilliant minds in the country. Rerouting all information through our headquarters was simple.”

  “They kept that information from the government?” John’s voice is louder than I have ever heard it.

  “They didn’t trust the president.” Kristie folds her arms across her chest. “They didn’t like him.”

  “Let me make sure I understand this.” Berk leans forward. “You are saying the Scientists knew the attack was coming, and they refused to save anyone?”

  “They were part of the attack.” Kristie looks at John, her eyes sad. “They moved our weapons into position, forcing the enemy countries to do the same. Then once our weapons were discharged, the other countries responded in kind.”

  “The Scientists destroyed the whole world.” I can hardly believe what I am saying, what I am hearing.

  John is sitting now, his head in his hands. He is rocking back and forth. His voice is so muffled I can hardly hear him. “James Turner? Did he know?”

  “James?” Carey says. “No, no, James was unaware. Spires, Loudin, and Williams made that choice. James was just as angry as the rest of us were.”

  John takes a ragged breath. “Good. Good. Thank you.”

  “But when it was over, we were divided,” Kristie continues. “Loudin believed we had the chance to make an evolutionary jump, to create a new, better version of man.”

  “Without emotions to cloud our judgment and create conflict.” Berk shakes his head—we know these reasons.

  “Yes.” Carey nods. “And in that, they meant well. The world was so dangerous, with so much evil and hate and fear. They were sure that if the government were allowed in, they would simply rebuild another country to mirror the one destroyed.”

  “But what about the others?” I cannot help thinking of those who paid for the State to be built. They paid for my life with theirs.

  Carey shrugs. “Loudin said they were more of the same—greedy, selfish, and concerned with power. He felt we needed to start with just the fifteen of us.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Fifteen?” I feel like the room is spinning. “What do you mean fifteen? There are ten Scientists. The Ten.”

  “Ten remained,” Kristie says. “Five of us could not agree to their plan. We didn’t want to create new people. We believed people could be taught to be better. We believed families are important.”

  “Emotions too.” Carey takes Kristie’s hand in his.

  “But we were outnumbered.”

  Berk blinks several times. “But how did you escape so soon after the War?”

  “We didn’t leave immediately,” Carey says. “For a while, we were all in survival mode.”

  “When things settled down, though, Loudin outlined his plan. And he had the others firmly on his side.” Kristie bites her lip. “The Geneticists had already begun creating the first generation.”

  Carey bows his head. “They started with a hundred. But so many had severe mutations, only thirty made it to term.”

  “It was when we saw those babies that we knew we had to leave.” Tears spring from Kristie’s eyes. “So much death, so much pain. A 70 percent fail rate. And they were thrilled.”

  “We all knew a few places aboveground survived.” Carey places an arm around Kristie’s shoulders. “The bombs were pointed at the major cities across the world, and the effects would radiate far beyond. But there are places—places like this—far enough from any major city that they were not destroyed.”

  “But how did you escape so soon after the War?” I think of all the precautions we took—forty years after the War had taken place.

  “We escaped much like you did.” Carey stands and walks to a cabinet. He opens it and pulls out a suit—one exactly like ours but yellowed
with age and dusty from disuse. “Three of us snuck old motorcycles down before the War for sentimental value. We rode those here. Somehow we managed to dig up enough gas from the rubble to keep them going.”

  “The Designer was protecting you,” John says.

  “Maybe.” Carey shrugs. “But whatever—or whoever—it was, we found our way here, to New Hope.”

  “New Hope?” I like the way that sounds. I like the way it makes me feel.

  “Yes,” Kristie says. “We helped the people here start over. We teach at the school. We raised our children here.”

  “We even helped raise our grandchildren.” Carey winks.

  “We tried to help make a place that will one day be able to combat what the Scientists in the State are creating. Not with war or anger, but with education and hard work.”

  The room falls silent. There is much to consider. Fifteen Scientists. Loudin murdering whole countries and lying to his own. Seventy percent dead. New Hope.

  I feel caught between two worlds. The State is even more terrible than I realized, and I am ashamed of it. But it is also home, all I have ever known. But I was an anomaly there.

  Am I any less of an anomaly here?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I have to get away. I walk out of the large building. Berk calls after me but I keep moving. I cannot think in there . . . I cannot listen to any more. My brain feels as if it is full of the ashy ground we passed as we traveled here.

  I do not know where to go. I just walk. I keep my eyes down. I do not want to see these buildings, the pods. I do not want to see the people. And they do not want to see me. No one is out. They are all inside. I hear muffled voices and know they are close but frightened. Let them be frightened. I am frightened too.

  I never really thought ahead to what this village might be like, what we would find here. I worried that the people might be mutated. I worried that they might be violent. I worried that they wouldn’t exist. But never, in all my worrying and thinking, did I ever consider this. The Ten were Fifteen? And Dr. Loudin made the choice to attack countries around the world—some neutral—because he wanted to create a better world than the old one?

  “Thalli,” John calls out. He is winded. I cannot believe he followed me. He needs to rest.

  “Please, John.” I stop, but only because I want him to do the same. “I can’t go back there right now.”

  “Neither can I.” John takes a deep breath.

  I suddenly realize that this information is far more personal, far more painful, to him than it is to me. His son is one of the Ten. Even if Dr. Turner wasn’t privy to Dr. Loudin’s plans when he made them, Dr. Turner chose to abide by them once they were made. He was the head Geneticist. “Where are you going?”

  I link an arm through John’s. “I don’t know.”

  “May I come?”

  I don’t answer. I just begin walking. He cannot go far, so I ask the Designer to help us find a place fast. I feel a little sick as I make the request. I have been so angry with him lately. So full of doubts. So focused on myself. What right have I to make any request?

  “There.” John points to a strange-looking structure. Two large triangles made from cut trees support a post that looks weathered. From that post hang two objects. “Swings.”

  “What?” I watch as John moves quicker.

  “Swings.” John sits on one of the objects. It moves with him. He lifts his feet and smiles broadly. “We used to push our children on these for hours. I built them a huge swing set in our backyard. Two swings, a slide, a fort, a climbing wall. It took me months. But the kids loved it. I was fixing it up before I came out to visit James. We were planning on our grandkids using it.”

  John never got to see his grandchildren. He came out to visit Dr. Turner just before the Nuclear War hit, before his daughter had her first child. He spent the last forty years locked up in the State, a virtual prisoner, allowed only to speak to those scheduled for annihilation. He was seen as a danger to the citizens because of his faith.

  “Sit.” John points to the object beside him. “It’s fun.”

  I lower myself onto the narrow rectangular seat. The ropes holding it move and I almost fall. I hold on to them with both hands to make them stop moving and I sit. I move slowly at first—back and forth.

  “Walk backward and then pick up your feet.”

  I can imagine John saying this to his children. There is such joy in his eyes. I cannot refuse, despite my fear at the instability of this swing. I do as he says, holding on to the ropes with all my strength. My heart feels as if it has dropped into my stomach. But the sensation is exciting. Fun.

  John laughs as I swing higher, following his instructions to “pump” my legs. I feel as if I could touch the sky with my feet. I lean back and close my eyes. The sensation is unlike anything I have ever experienced.

  “You have missed out on so much.” John’s voice is sad. I am sure he is thinking about the world before the War.

  “Why would Dr. Loudin do that?” I look at John, slowing my swing with my feet. “Was the world so terrible that it needed to be destroyed?”

  “Have I ever told you about Noah?”

  “I don’t think so.” Did John hear my question? I want to ask again but he begins speaking.

  “In the Designer’s book, there is the story of a man named Noah.” John stands and stretches his arms over his head. “The world had become evil. People were ignoring the Designer, angering him. So he decided to destroy it. All of it. With a worldwide flood. Because Noah was a righteous man, the Designer spared him and his family.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “It sounds terrible, yes,” John says. “But the Designer is the Designer. Everything he does is good. It is just.”

  “You think Dr. Loudin was acting like the Designer?”

  “I think Dr. Loudin believed he could be like the Designer.” John shakes his head. “James believed the same thing. That there is no Designer. That man is the highest power. They believed they knew what was best for the world. The Scientists were sure they knew how to re-create the world into a better place. Without emotion and religion and conflict.”

  “But they did, didn’t they? With the exception of anomalies like me?”

  John walks to me and places his soft hands on my face. “You are not an anomaly. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. And no, the Scientists did not create a better place. A world without the Designer is not better. It is a world without hope, without true joy, without love.”

  I know John is right, but I still struggle with it. Feeling so much seems wrong. Doubting the Scientists seems wrong. It goes against all I have been taught.

  I glance at John and notice he has closed his eyes, his lips moving, eyebrows furrowed. John prays at all times. I wait as he finishes. He opens his eyes and lets out a deep sigh. “It is James. The Designer is impressing upon me to pray for him. God is not through with my son.”

  I want to ask how he knows that, what he means, but John is looking at something else, something beyond me. I turn to see Berk limping toward us. “I think I’d better head back. I’ll see you later.”

  I am suddenly sick to my stomach. I don’t know what to say to Berk. I am afraid of what he will say. Afraid to hear he has developed feelings for Rhen. Truthfully, he and Rhen are better suited for each other than he and I. She is logical, careful. And now she seems to be developing abnormal feelings. But not completely abnormal, like mine. She doesn’t lose control and cry or question or get angry. She is just softer and kinder. Berk deserves someone like her. She is better than me in every way.

  John pauses to whisper something in Berk’s ear. Berk nods but he doesn’t smile. I cannot identify the look in his eyes, but I do not like it. It makes me uncomfortable. Nervous. He keeps walking toward me. I didn’t even notice when I stood and turned around. I cannot think clearly where Berk is concerned.

  “Thalli.” He is standing in front of me, his gaze locked on mine. “It is time to talk.�
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  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I do not like the way he said that. His eyes weren’t soft. His voice wasn’t gentle. He seemed more like “Dr. Berk” than the Berk I have come to know.

  “Can we walk a little?” His voice is higher pitched than normal. It is not the smooth melody of a trombone, but the pinched tone of a French horn. He is still limping, his leg not completely healed from the attack.

  “Have you seen the healer yet?”

  “Not yet.” He looks ahead, the silence between us almost tangible. He seems to know where we are going. His legs are longer than mine, so even with his injury, I struggle to keep up. Now as I walk, I look everywhere. I need my mind to be occupied with something else—anything else.

  I walk past a faded blue pod with pieces of cut trees on parts of the top. The window fabric is pulled back, and I see a living area with a variety of furniture. I stop to look closer. I cannot help myself. The fabrics remind me of John’s room: colorful, patterned, aged. Learning pads appear to be everywhere, but that cannot be. There is no technology here. No electricity. These pads are still. Just pictures. But pictures of what I assume are families. I am still uncomfortable with that thought. John told me about families, about marriage and children, but that is so different from the world of my experience.

  Berk has not stopped, and when I look for him, I see he is far ahead. I jog to keep up with him. He doesn’t look back at me. I look beyond him and see a hill. It is similar to the hill we walked over to arrive here, but this one has blue flowers all over it and the grass is thicker.

  Berk is at the top of the hill. He finally looks back and watches me as I climb to meet him.

  “Where are we?” I am breathing heavily. The hill is steeper than I expected.

  “Look.” Berk motions below. “A lake.”

  I see water. A lot of water. “A lake.” It is beautiful. The sun reflects off the ripples created by the wind. Leaves drift onto the surface and float along. Birds are flying overhead and cows are drinking at its banks. I have never seen anything like it. It is so much bigger than the pond John swam in when we first arrived.