Athel

  Hennessy has just returned from the forest with Yuri and Cal. Yuri messaged me as soon as they were back within our network.

  Not found. Sorry, dude.

  First time he’s ever said the word “sorry.” I wonder if he told his father about the rocket, if he at least tried to convince him to let them keep looking, despite the mandatory evacuation.

  It’s too late now anyway.

  The two brothers run off to pack their things while Hennessy joins the other Kiva Members patrolling the premises outside the Tower. He scowls at the wagons and orders them away.

  “Be reasonable, people!” Hennessy shouts. “We’ll be hiding in the forest. How do you expect those big things to make it through the narrow trails?”

  “I own thirty goats,” a man complains. “What am I supposed to do with them? Leave them behind?”

  “What’s more important?” Hennessy asks. “Your family or the goats?”

  The man bows his head and shuffles away, waving for his wife and children to get off the wagon.

  Dottie’s eyes twinkle with emotion as she and Mom load the cart with the essential things we’ll need: dry food, blankets, our TBC battery chargers. Our pets.

  Kael is a cyborg, so we could deactivate him before caging him so he won’t suffer during the trip. But Ash isn’t, and now he mews and rasps his claws at the door of his kennel, trying to get out. Dottie tries to comfort him as best as she can, but the poor kitten is restless.

  Taeh sways her long tail and keeps her head low as I fit the bridle around her head.

  We were so close. We found two doors to the Underground City, and the rest were clearly labeled on the map. Once Yuri gave up the Prudence key, we had four chavis—four doors we could’ve unlocked. When Lukas and I returned from the forest, we were excited. And then Dottie and Wes gave us the bad news.

  The last key, the one that was supposed to unlock the city, is missing.

  Somebody’s taken it.

  I should’ve run back to the forest to warn Lilun. But I couldn’t. The evacuation had already started. People were swarming the stairwells and hallways of the Tower carrying their things, shouting, holding their loved ones. Mom whisked me away and told me to prepare Taeh’s harness because we had to load the cart.

  I can’t believe the last chavi vanished just like that. Who could’ve taken it? And why doesn’t Tahari confront every Mayake out there until the key turns up?

  Lukas and his uncle Akari bring a few more bags to load on our cart: tools, a few essential supplies, and small robotic parts we can’t afford to lose. Akari exchanges a few words with Mom, their voices low, the conversation kept to a minimum: yes, no, we’re good. Nobody mentions tomorrow. It’s as though time has frozen in this instant. The past is gone and the future stalled. Best to act mechanically and not even think, load another bag on the cart and move to the next item, as though all this were normal, a well-practiced routine, our eyes cast away from the Tower, our home, our land, all we’ve ever known.

  The Mayakes don’t question. The Mayakes obey, endure, and move on.

  Lukas slides the satchel off his shoulders and watches me tighten the saddle girth around Taeh’s belly. My blistered hands burn as I pull the leather straps, making me wince.

  “We did our best,” I say, just for the sake of conversation.

  “They claim they never found it,” he replies.

  It takes me a second to understand what he’s talking about. “Who? Yuri and Cal?” I shake my head. “Yeah. That’s what they said. The rocket flew too far and they couldn’t retrieve it.” I buckle the loin strap of the harness. Taeh’s tail brushes my side as she sways it gently back and forth.

  “They’re lying,” Lukas says, his voice firm. He sits on the grass with his legs crossed, pulls a handful of weeds and plucks out leaves one by one. His lips are pursed, his eyes narrowed.

  “Lukas, what’s going on?”

  He keeps shredding the weeds and won’t even look at me. “You had to tell them, didn’t you? And then the rocket vanishes, and the fifth chavi gets stolen. You think it was all a coincidence?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Rice!” some women call. “Hot steamed rice!”

  They come in groups, carrying baskets full of fantuan, vine leaves filled with balls of steamed rice. Little children dip their hands in the baskets and run around distributing the food, their naked feet padding in the grass.

  To be their age and unaware of what’s about to happen, I think as I take my ball of rice and sit next to Lukas.

  “It’s too late to take it back,” I say, pinching the rice with my fingers and filling my mouth. “I took a bet and trusted Yuri and Cal. They already had one of the chavis. It was the only way to get them to cooperate. They had nothing to lose. They’re stupid, but not suicidal. They want to survive as much as we do.”

  “I don’t trust them,” Lukas replies, pulling another wad of grass.

  “Look,” I hiss, my mouth full of rice. “I had no choice, ok? It was the only way to get the Prudence key.”

  “They’re lying about the rocket,” Lukas says, and this time there’s no doubt in his voice. He knows.

  “You know something I don’t, don’t you?”

  He bends over and slides his data feeder out of his satchel. The screen lights up at his touch and an image appears. It’s mostly dark and highly pixelated, except for a tiny bright dot that keeps blinking at the upper right corner of the screen.

  “That’s the rocket,” Lukas says matter-of-factly.

  The statement makes me seethe. “You—” I shout, then bite my tongue and hiss, “You knew? You’ve known all along where the rocket is?”

  Lukas taps the screen, closing the image, and puts the data feeder away. “Not all along. It’s taken me a few hours to decrypt the signal.”

  I open my mouth, close it, then open it again. Words fail me. So I take the rest of the fantuan and gulp it down. I work my way through the clump of rice grains and Lilun pops into my head—the funny way she fills her cheeks and chews like she’s never chewed anything in her life before.

  Lilun is in danger too, I think, but somehow the thought gets buried under other preoccupations: the rocket, the fact that it’s still in the forest, the fact that Lukas is able to trace its position through his data feeder.

  “Dude,” I say. “We can still make it. We can still retrieve the rocket and bring it to the gorge before dawn.”

  Lukas crosses his arms and juts out his lower lip. “We can’t ride there. And as soon as darkness falls, the procession will begin.”

  “Have you ever seen four hundred people on the move? It’ll be chaotic. Nobody’s going to notice if all of a sudden we go missing—”

  He punches me in the chest and brings a finger to his lips as Akari walks over with two leftover fantuans.

  “Did you guys have enough food?” Akari asks, handing us more rice balls. “Eat more. It’s going to be a long night.”

  Dottie and Mom secure our stuff on the cart, then together we fasten the shafts to Taeh’s harness. The sun dips behind the mountains and long shadows envelop us, the horses, the carts, the people coming and going from the Tower carrying bags, babies, food. Dark clouds roll over the mesa, projecting the yellow glow from the Gaijins’ factory onto the evening sky.

  A mother with a newborn gets to ride in one of the carts, together with a few elders who can no longer walk, and children too small to keep up. The rest of us will hike on either our feet or prostheses.

  Tahari gives an emotional speech. It’s short, not many words are needed. We are the Mayakes. We are strong. We will protect our children. He doesn’t say why we’re leaving or where we’re going. Nobody asks. That’s the thing with Mayakes. We obey. It’s ingrained in us.

  When he’s done, he comes to me and asks me to lead one of the groups into the forest. “You don’t need a flashlight, and the less light we use, the better. I’ll be at the tail, while Hennessy will lead the caravan with the horses and ca
rts.” He looks at the people gathered in the clearing around the Tower. “Not easy to move four hundred people, but we’ll have to make it work. We’ve got all night. Let’s just hope all night is all we need to keep safe.”

  Lukas waits until Tahari’s gone, then turns to me and says, “Congratulations on your promotion.”

  I inhale, trying to get past his hostility. “This means you, Wes, and Dottie will have to retrieve the rocket.”

  He narrows his eyes. “You forgot one tiny detail. The three of us can’t see in the dark.”

  “Then come up with something,” I snarl. “You’re not giving up, are you?”

  He looks down at his shoes and scuffs the ground. “We’ll have to take the trail north, toward the Wisdom door. I think that’s where the signal is coming from. It’s feeble, and not very stable, but it’s been emitting for the past hour or so.”

  “Lukas!” Akari calls.

  “Coming,” Lukas replies, but as he shuffles away, I call him back.

  “Hey.”

  He glares, still miffed.

  I swallow. “That idea you had of putting a tracer in the rocket? Brilliant. I wish you’d told me.”

  He nods, wind blowing his hair astray, and leaves.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Akaela

  The last sunrays fan over the mountains and then dissolve. The sky lights up with the glow from the Gaijins’ factory. A handful of stars dapple the night, blinking through a veil of passing clouds.

  Hennessy claps his hands and directs all the carts and carriages across the solar fields. Because the vehicles won’t make it through the narrow and uneven trails that cross the forests, Hennessy will lead them upstream along the river until they find a wide enough clearing to get into the woods and meet us on the other side.

  Mom was going to let Athel drive our cart, but now that Tahari’s made him lead the procession, we all agree she should be the one to drive it. At first she resists the idea, and a film of tears shows in her brown eyes.

  “But I want us to stay together,” she says softly. “And now that Athel’s being forced away…”

  I throw my arms around her neck and hug her, inhaling her familiar scent of summer grass and soap.

  “We’ll be fine, Mom,” I say, caressing her white-streaked hair. “We’ll all be together again soon.”

  She nods, looks away to hide her tears, and climbs onto the cart. I hug Taeh, whisper in her ear to take good care of herself and Mom, and then watch them vanish in the dim light of dusk, the cartwheels creaking and squeaking as they wobble down to the river.

  Tahari splits the rest of us into groups, each led by two Kiva Members. I feel a little knot in my throat as I pick up my bag, take one last look at the Tower, and then take my spot in line. I bite my lip and watch as the first group—led by Athel—starts off toward the forest.

  When our turn comes, we set off at a brisk pace. There are other children in my group, but none of my closer friends. The woman walking right behind me is Lamira, one of the older women who’s been making dinner for everyone over the past few nights. She huffs along and sweats profusely.

  A pale moon shines through the clouds, easing our passage. We all slow down once we enter the thick of the forest. It’s harder to follow the trail now, despite the milky light glimmering over the broad leaves of the wild vines.

  Boughs creak, night birds hoot, and coyotes howl in the distance. As we proceed, everything falls silent, and all we can hear is the muted thud of our steps.

  Behind me, Lamira whimpers.

  “Are you ok?” I ask.

  “This is so scary,” she says, her voice so low I can barely hear her.

  “It’s ok,” I tell her. “It’s just animals.”

  I soon realize how much harder the trails are when there’s not enough visibility to see where we’re going. More than once the uneven terrain surprises me with a rock or an unexpected dip. Lamira trips often and every time I stop to help her.

  “Keep up,” a harsh voice from farther down the trail admonishes us. “You don’t want to lose the lead, do you?”

  “It’s ok,” Lamira whispers. “I’m good. You go ahead.”

  Five minutes later she’s already lagging behind, so I call for the people ahead of us to wait, generating another wave of protests from the tail of the procession. I spot brisk movements in front of me, somebody hiking back along the trail.

  “Come on, Lamira,” I call. “People are w—”

  “Shh!”

  I blink. A shadow flashes before me, its finger raised to its lips.

  “Let her lag behind,” the shadow hisses. I can’t see his features, but the voice I do recognize.

  “Wes? How did you get out of your group?”

  Another low hiss, Lukas’s voice this time. “Move, you guys!” he says, grabbing Lukas’s hand and sneaking into my group. As much as I think we’re all going to get in trouble for this, a huge grin sprawls on my face.

  I follow their steps as they crunch ahead of me, Lamira’s huffs now a distant echo farther down the trail.

  “We’re almost there,” Lukas whispers a few minutes later.

  “Almost there where?” I ask.

  The screen of his data feeder glows briefly in his hands before he hides it away.

  “Athel didn’t tell you?” Wes asks.

  “Tell me what? I haven’t had a chance to—”

  “Koru five!” a voice calls from the lead.

  “That’s our group’s call,” I hiss. The signal we’ve agreed upon to make sure no one got lost. “Koru five,” I shout when my turn comes and, a few seconds later, I hear Lamira’s voice echo me from a few yards behind.

  “Perfect timing,” Lukas whispers, and as the people ahead of us hike around a bend in the trail, he grabs my hand, drags me in the opposite direction, and we all leave the trail.

  “Down,” he says, motioning Wes and me to stay low among the ferns.

  I watch the rest of our group pass by, black silhouettes framed by faint moon rays twinkling from the treetops, and the occasional flashlight, used sporadically to check a rock or scrutinize the trail.

  When the rustle of footfalls fades in the distance, Lukas hands me a walking stick. “Ready?”

  “You never said where we’re going.”

  “I thought you knew. To retrieve the rocket.”

  * * *

  The deeper we wade into the forest, the colder it gets. The moisture collected by the low vegetation seeps through my boots and soaks my feet. I struggle to see now that we’re off the trail and away from the people, their voices and footfalls a distant lull in the dead of night. Lukas shines a feeble beam from his data feeder, enough to make sure we don’t trip on roots or a fallen tree. The walking sticks help. Lukas instructs us to use them to hit the trail ahead of us, scanning for rocks or potholes, and to scare away animals.

  Wes groans at the idea of animals lurking in the darkness. “Can you make the light stronger?” he asks.

  “Gotta save batteries,” Lukas replies.

  Thick blackness swallows everything past Lukas’s shallow light. As my vision falters, it seems that sounds come alive: the rustling of leaves, the scuttling of a rat, the creaking of the trees. Our strained breathing, the snapping of twigs under our feet, the hoot of an owl.

  “Did you hear that?” Wes gasps.

  “An owl,” Lukas replies. “Stop fretting.”

  “I’m no—”

  Something flutters above us and screeches. Wes grasps my arm, squeezing so hard my hand goes numb.

  “What was that?” he cries.

  Something tickles my face. I pluck it off and feel it between my fingers. The texture makes me smile. “Hey, Wes,” I say, dipping the feather I just found under Lukas’s light. “Look who was going to bite your behind.”

  “Jays,” Lukas says, recognizing the iridescent blue of the feather in my hand.

  I can’t see Wes’s face but I’m sure he’s blushing.

  Lukas hits the trail
again, chanting, “Hmm, what’s that thing I smell? Wes? Did you just shit yourself?”

  “Shut up, Lukas,” Wes snorts.

  Lukas chortles. “It’s ok. I think I shitted myself a little too. Good thing Akaela keeps us grounded.”

  “The darkness really doesn’t bother you?” Wes asks, his long blades glinting on and off as they fall under the beam from Lukas’s data feeder.

  “Well, I wish I could see better,” I say, tripping for the umpteenth time over a root.

  “But,” Wes objects, “doesn’t it make you feel like you’re being followed? Or worse… stalked?”

  “Of course we’re being stalked,” Lukas replies. “The forest is home to owls, bats, toads, rats and wolves, to mention a few—all nocturnal animals.”

  “And they’re all following us,” I say, chuckling. I slam into Lukas, sending him against a tree.

  “Careful!” he protests.

  “Why’d you stop?”

  He swallows and doesn’t reply. Wes stretches an arm and snatches the data feeder from his hands.

  “Hey! Give it back!”

  “Where’s the dot?” Wes asks, keeping the data feeder high above his head.

  “What dot?”

  “The dot showing where the rocket is.”

  Lukas jumps and gets his data feeder back. “It’ll come back.”

  “What?” Wes yells.

  “Shh!” I hiss. The two are making so much noise they’ll attract the big animals. Or the adults. How long until someone realizes we’re missing from our assigned groups?

  “How do you know the dot was the rocket anyway?” Wes’s voice is starting to crack. He’s clearly regretting leaving the main trail, but there’s no going back now.

  “I left a transmitter,” Lukas explains, resuming the hike. “The signal comes and goes. It’s normal.”

  “And where are we supposed to go while the signal is gone?” Wes insists.