by Trisha Leigh
We go back outside, taking Wolf along, and he bounds off into the woods while we watch the stars emerge and twinkle above our heads. My whole life I’ve wondered who else might be out there, and after meeting creatures who are neither human nor Other, my curiosity has only heightened. It makes me think about what Lucas says, that perhaps the Others are our future. I wonder if that’s true, if we’ll visit those far-flung places in unnamed galaxies, and if we could be happy putting our own survival above that of our hosts.
If Lucas chooses to stay with his father, to make a life with the Others, what then? Would I go with him?
A glance at Pax’s handsome profile, his serious expression, tugs my heart another direction. We belong here, on Earth, no matter our unique genetic makeup. The Others stand for narcissism and cruelty, even though Lucas might try to convince me they don’t have a choice. If they’re to survive, they must feed off whatever it is that keeps them alive, and it’s not exactly their fault that their presence destroys planets.
But they could have done the noble thing. They could have searched for a place compatible with their needs, and if one didn’t exist, annihilation of their own race should have been the decision—as opposed to annihilating countless more.
I voice that last thought to Pax, wondering what his thoughts are on all of this now, after he’s realized the Others aren’t going to forget we exist. When I first met him, Pax wanted nothing to do with the humans or the Others, but after meeting Leah, an unveiled human…it has to have at least given him something to think about.
“I guess people don’t think that way, Summer,” he replies to my question about the Others choosing extinction over killing. “It’s instinct to keep yourself alive.”
His quiet, sure response floats over to me like feathers tossed on a breeze, kind of soft and tickling me with the terrible truth. If the Others weren’t hopping through space, discovering planets with the resources to support them for however short a time frame, they would be no more. Faced with those options, I’m starting to think it would take a special kind of person to choose in favor of the greater good.
The Prime Other, as horribly as he’s treated me, was faced with an unthinkable dilemma all those years ago when it became clear that Deasupra would not survive the civil war that nearly ended their race. Hundreds of Others looked to him, and this was his decision—life.
“That’s true. Cadi and Ko chose to live in captivity all of these years, and so have Griffin and Greer. I mean, it’s not like they could have escaped, but they could have…done what Apa tried.” I can’t bring myself to say the phrase tried to kill themselves. The simple idea of it hurts my heart. “They’re choosing life over death, too, even though it’s not a life most people would want.”
He slides closer to me, sharing his warmth and the comforting smell of apples and cinnamon. “I think you never know how far you’ll go to stay alive until you’re in the situation. But that doesn’t change anything. It’s not right, what they’re doing. If we can save Earth, we still should. And if we get to choose between humans or Others, I choose humans.”
“Me, too.”
My stomach grumbles and we both laugh. I lay my head on his shoulder for a minute as tension unwinds from my shoulders and neck, surprised again when there’s no rush of heat, only friendship. We whistle for Wolf and the three of us head inside to eat dinner. If we’re going to make it through whatever’s coming, we have to find a way to focus on the things we can change and let go of the things we can’t. Lucas is gone, for now. I have to believe that he wants to get back to us, and if he truly does, he’ll find a way to use Greer’s portal.
In the meantime, Pax and I should be putting our minds to something useful.
We eat the reheated pasta and sauce, still mulling over the intricacies of the Others’ occupation of Earth and the moral ambiguities of their decisions.
“It’s funny, talking about how we’ll make a choice, that Cadi and the Others are picking life in captivity over death, but humans don’t have any choices at all.” I swallow a gulp of water, sadness sinking into my belly along with the cool liquid.
We’ve discussed before how none of us have a real idea of what unveiled humans are like, or how life on Earth existed before the Others changed everything. In humans who’ve we’ve un-controlled—on accident, mostly—we’ve seen many of them display tendencies toward violence and anger. The adults more than the kids our age.
“That’s the best we can hope to accomplish, I guess. To keep this planet livable after the Others leave, and to give them back their choices. People aren’t meant to be controlled.” Pax’s eyes hold mine, questions tumbling behind his sharp gaze, as though he’s wondering where my train of thought is heading.
When I say nothing, he reaches out and punches my arm lightly. “Winter is going to be okay.”
It takes a couple of big gulps of air to control my swirling fear, but then I force a wobbly smile. “I know.” On my feet it’s easier to think, and moving around will keep my mind off the long hours stretching ahead, not knowing if Lucas is safe, if he’s being harmed…and wondering if he has any intention of coming back.
“Where are you going?” Pax ask as I head toward the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.
“I think I’ll poke around a little bit and see what information might be hiding around here. We know Deshi’s in Rapid City. Maybe there are more maps somewhere that show this area,” I answer, stepping out of the room.
Pax’s footsteps pad out of the living room and hit the tile in the kitchen, followed by the sounds of dishes settling in the sink. It’s hard to see without the light of the fire, but the flashlight I brought from the Clark’s last winter still works. We’ve tried to use it as little as possible.
It takes me an hour or so to go through the closet and all of the drawers in the bedroom. I don’t find much that interests me or that looks to be potentially helpful, and when I return to the front room, Pax is sitting on the floor behind the coffee table picking through a small pile of stuff he’s found.
I drop to the floor next to him, spilling the four or five things I brought out next to his. “Maps! Where’d you find them?”
“In that room with the desk and the old-looking communication device. Where’d you find that crap?”
“Bedroom.”
Until I ran away from the Sanctioned City of Des Moines, I’d never seen a map of anything besides the sky. Star and planet maps, constellations, solar systems. But the Others don’t supply us any clues as to the size or terrain of this place we live.
I push aside the extra flashlight, batteries, a floppy book titled Holy Bible, and fingernail clippers that were hiding in the bedroom, and poke through Pax’s find. Besides the maps, he’s unearthed another lined disk like Lucas’s clue—this one with the name Johnny Cash on the outside of the case—two more books, and what looks like a family photograph.
The books remind me of the ones we found at Fort Laramie—textbooks that tell what happened on Earth before now. I hope the stories aren’t as depressing as the ones about what happened to the Native American people when the white settlers came to their land.
It’s frustrating, only knowing half of the stories and being unable to fit the rest of the puzzle together. To know terms and places and dates but not the how and why of things, the ins and outs of what made a group of people decide they could take what belonged to someone else because of the color of their skin.
I suppose if I understood that, I would understand the Others, too.
After all, they believe they are superior to the people of Earth because they have greater technology, and because they have mental capabilities that outstrip the ones of the inhabitants of this planet. But those things, in my estimation, don’t make the Others better than humans. It simply makes them different. I’m sure that if—when—humanity returns to its former state, it will have plenty of strengths to show off.
And weaknesses.
I think of the Native Americans and
wonder what they would think of now, if they could have seen into the future. Certain humans had been bad enough to commit those crimes we learned about traveling west, but surely after all of these years people had learned from their mistakes.
We shove the books and Johnny Cash out of the way to make room for the first map. It’s been folded in perfect creases, and takes up over half of the coffee table with its width. The one we found before showed the Sanctioned Cities—along with several more places that had been foreign to us—but this one is more confusing. There are seven land masses interrupted by vast expanses of blue. These are not lakes or rivers. The blue stretches forever, and I know they are oceans like the one near Portland. I never imagined that water could stretch so far.
We try to make sense of the thing for a while, to find a place to get our bearings and start from, but soon frustration curls my fingernails into my palms. I rummage through Pax’s bag until I find the previous map, and smooth it out next to the new one to see if anything looks familiar.
I’m starting to believe they can’t both depict Earth when I spot a long, extended shape that matches on the maps. On the one we took from the Cell, it’s marked as Florida. On this new one, it’s not marked at all but appears to be part of a place called the United States of America, in an even bigger area titled North America.
I stab my finger at the word America; it triggers a memory. “Cadi said when the Others first came they sent the Elements to four corners, and that my mother came here, to America. I bet it’s where my dad was from.”
So much time has passed since that night in the woods, months, and Cadi dumped so much information into my brain I can’t recall all of the details. At the time I thought we’d have another chance to talk to her, another opportunity to ask questions and let it all sink in, but we didn’t.
And when Lucas ran in to the Observatory Pod with Pax a few weeks ago, I believed he and I would never have to be apart again.
I’m starting to realize that nothing is ever for sure, that a tomorrow will arrive or that it will look the way I expect it to. It’s best to live the current day for all it’s worth. In that regard, I regret not letting Lucas kiss me until my lips fell off the other evening no matter how unsure he seems or how scared the potential of no future makes me.
A glance Pax’s way finds him staring at me, an indecipherable expression hanging on his olive complexion. I clear my throat, trailing my finger across the strange names and plucking bits of memories from my mind. “This is where Cadi said Lucas’s father met his mom—France. I can’t remember what she said about Deshi.”
“What about my mom? Do you remember what Cadi said about where she met Vant?” Pax asks, fingers curling around the edges of the coffee table.
I frown, squinting at the map. More of Cadi’s explanation returns from the recesses of my mind and helps me narrow down my search. If the Others sent the Elements to four quadrants, Deshi and Pax’s parents must be from opposite sides, far away from America and France.
A moment later, the word Brazil sticks out and I poke my finger onto the paper. “There. Brazil, that’s what she said.”
My heart climbs into my throat as I watch him stare at the place where his mother lived, where he might have grown up if things were different. The map tells us nothing about those separate places we might have grown up—what they smell like, if they’re hot or cold, whether mountains or endless plains stretch across the landscape. Cadi said people only live in America now. I wonder what’s left of all those other places, or if they’re simply untouched and abandoned.
If we fail, no one will ever see them again. I want Pax to see Brazil, but for now, that I made him smile with that bit of knowledge will have to do.
He looks up and sees me watching him, and what I’ve come to recognize as desire floods his bright eyes. Instead of immediately shoving it away, Pax’s way of dealing with it last winter, it wells up and overflows, drowning me in its strength. I can’t breathe; Pax’s chest rises and falls too rapidly in the quiet room. My feelings for Lucas don’t make me immune to a handsome boy staring at me like that.
I jerk my gaze away. “I’m, um, going to see if I can find any more maps that might tell us where we are now.”
Pax tugs on his hair with one hand and rubs Wolf’s belly, a quiet resignation falling around him that hurts my heart. “Okay. Too bad every map doesn’t come with a magic ‘You Are Here’ button, huh?”
The humor falls flat, smothered by the unreleased tension crowding the space between us, and I escape as far as possible. In the back of the cabin is the den-type room Pax explored before, but he did too good of a job and I find nothing else. In a spare bedroom, though, I find a contraption on the desk that pulls my attention. It’s black and smooth, with buttons on the top and either end of the front covered with mesh. The back has a spot for batteries, but it’s empty.
I push the buttons to see if anything will happen, and a door pops up on the top. Inside is a flat, silver disc with little lines, just like the one in Lucas’s note holder and like the one with Johnny Cash on the cover that Pax found earlier.
“Cool!” I grab the thing by its handle and drag it back into the living room, where Pax is still poring over the wrinkled maps on the coffee table.
He looks up when I pad into the room, my step quicker than when I left. Relief cools my heated cheeks and settles my stomach when nothing flickers in his eyes except interest at the item in my hand. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it makes the silver discs work.” I set the contraption down on the end table by the couch and head to the kitchen, where the cabin’s previous owner kept an entire drawer filled with batteries. I grab the ones that look like the right size, then return to the living room and fill the empty compartment.
A light comes on next to the buttons, signaling that the thing still works. Pax abandons the maps and scoots next to me, watching as I press a couple of buttons to see what happens.
When I push down the third one, which has a triangle on it, sound emerges and pumps through the room. It’s so loud I can’t hear myself think. Wolf looks up with alarm.
“Turn it off,” Pax yells loudly enough to be heard over the din.
“I don’t know how!”
I push more buttons with my left hand, and my right on lands on a knob that swivels to the left, immediately softening the noise. “There.”
“Much better.” Pax cocks his head to the side, looking like Wolf for a moment. “What is it?”
I start to shrug, then recall the memory Cadi walked Lucas and I through, the one that took place the night our Element parents learned of their Partners’ deaths. “Oh. It’s called…balls. Cadi told me, but I can’t remember. Lucas’s father made it once while we were in a memory.”
We listen for a moment, and the sound shifts and changes, from fast and happy to slow and moody, back again. I like it both ways. The fast one makes me want to move around, and slow one draw out my emotions and rub against them until they’re raw. “Oh! Music! That’s what Cadi called it.”
“Music. I like it.” Pax smiles at me, then goes back to reading his maps.
I turn the music lower still, until it’s a steady undercurrent but not distracting, and turn the second map to face me. Pax still pores over the page in front of him.
I get impatient and slide over to peruse it, too, risking getting closer to Pax again, letting his warm, autumn scent fill my lungs. After a moment I spot Rapid City on the map. “There!”
“Wow. We were kind of close to it on our westward hike. I wonder what’s there?”
“Maybe Deshi.” I chew on the tip of my finger, ripping the skin around the nail. “But how are we supposed to figure out where we are now?”
Pax yawns and stretches, and despite all of my mental urgings not to look, I can’t help but sneak a peek to see if his tanned stomach is visible. His eyes sag; he still tires easily and I know his wound isn’t healed all the way, even though he takes care of it himself now and w
on’t let me near it.
“I’m beat, Summer. Let’s hit the hay and try to puzzle this out in the morning.”
“Yeah. Okay.” The last thing I am is tired, but Pax needs to rest and I know he won’t want to go to sleep if he thinks I want to stay up talking.
Over the next fifteen minutes we take turns in the cleansing room brushing our teeth. I wash my face and untangle my hair while Pax lets Wolf outside for the last time tonight. I’m an expert at the fire by now, and settle it for the night so that it won’t go out but won’t be too big, either.
Pax crawls into the recliner, Lucas’s usual spot, and all of the worry and missing him that I’ve been studiously ignoring for the past several hours crashes around me. Before Pax can see, I roll onto my side on the couch, away from his gaze.
The selfish part of me hopes the Others will show Lucas their true colors, remind him that with me is where he wants to be. His harsh words from earlier scroll through my head. He wants to make his own decisions, and as much as I want to tell him what to do because I believe it’s right, the decision is Lucas’s to make.
It’s the same lesson he needs to learn about me—and I think together we can be an even stronger team if we can find a way to trust one another again. But that small voice in the back of my mind whispers that right now Lucas doesn’t know what’s right. The suggestion breaks my heart, pumping pain through my arteries to my veins and back again in an endless loop.
Pax’s light snores waft over the occasional pop from the fire, and Wolf’s aren’t far behind. An idea snags its fingernails in my mind. Giving in to it would be as dangerous as taking Fire’s advice, but once I start thinking about it, I can’t stop.
I could go to my sinum. It’s safe; the Others can’t get inside. From what Greer said, some of the half-Others like Cadi might be able to get through, but none of the half-breeds have presented a threat in the past. If no one is there, if they’ve given up on trapping me since we built the wall or they’re all too busy dealing with the crisis Apa created, I might be able to sneak around and eavesdrop.