He leaned in closer. “Where are they? Your friends, the Desecrators. I know they’re planning something. I want names. I want to know where they live. I want to know it all.”
His voice was strangely hushed. She had to strain to hear him.
“And you”—his finger prodded her arm—“you are going to tell me.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he was faster. He caught her hair in his fist. She felt her scalp constrict. Pain. Ripping, burning pain. He pulled harder. She felt tufts of hair come away from the root. Despite herself, she cried out.
Carver laughed. “Feel more like talking now?”
She could feel his spit on her face.
He put his lips to her ear. “We are only starting, only starting.”
He turned to the other gavver. “Close the door, Wallum.”
Letta swallowed hard. Carver released her, throwing her against the wall. She stumbled but managed not to fall. Carver took off his jacket.
Suddenly, a new voice broke the silence. “What is this?”
At first, she didn’t recognize the speaker, and she found it impossible to drag her attention away from Carver. It was Carver’s own reaction she noticed. The way his mouth turned down, how the light went out of his eyes. She glanced across.
Noa.
“What is going on here?”
The words fell like icicles from his mouth. Carver seemed to shrink before her.
“Desecrator, sir,” Carver mumbled. “Reason to believe.”
“Get out!” Noa snapped the words at the men, never taking his eyes from Letta.
There was a noise like rats scuttling across the floor, and the gavvers were gone. Letta felt herself breathe again. She looked up at Noa, but something in his eyes had changed. Gone was the grandfather figure he had presented before. In his place, Letta saw only a shell full of venom, and all that venom was directed at her.
“So, Letta,” he said, “I understand you are in trouble?”
“Yes,” she said. “I am, but I don’t understand why.”
He ignored her.
“You have been associating with Desecrators, they tell me.”
What did he know?
“What do you mean?” she said.
He sighed. “That’s the trouble with words, isn’t it? So inexact. So much room to wriggle and squirm and play with the truth. Don’t you think, Letta?”
“Yes,” she said.
He knows something, Letta thought, her mind working furiously.
“So they made contact with you? What did they tell you? What did they promise you?”
She had to tell him something that had a grain of truth in it, something he might believe.
“I didn’t know,” she said. “You have to believe me. Someone called at the shop the day Daniel was taken.”
“The boy?”
“No,” Letta said. “Not a boy. An old man. Hugo was his name.” He’s already dead, she thought. You can’t do any more to him.
“Go on,” Noa said, but Letta could see the hesitation in his eyes.
“I was upset about Daniel. He was so young, you see. I was upset, and Hugo said he had friends who could help. I told Rose that, and… I promise you I had no idea he was a Desecrator. I hate the Desecrators. I hate everything they stand for. I wanted to talk to you, to tell you.”
“Enough!” he said, raising his right hand.
He doesn’t believe me, Letta thought desperately. He knows I’m lying.
Noa leaned in closer. Seconds ticked by. She could almost see his mind working. Then he took a step back.
“I believe you, Letta,” he said finally. “But you took a terrible chance. I know you are young, but you have to grow up fast now. Save your sympathy for the planet. Do not waste it on delinquents like Daniel.”
“Yes, master,” she said, bowing her head in what she hoped looked like humility.
Noa smiled, a slow, lazy smile. “The gavvers have a job to do. The healer’s wife made a complaint. A serious complaint. That had to be investigated.”
He stared at her for a second, and she could see his eyes were no longer focused.
“Come! This is no place for us to talk. Follow me!”
She watched him stalk out in front of her and then quickly followed him, hearing the heavy door of the cell slam behind her.
“Come!” Noa said again, putting his arm around her. “Come see what we captured.”
Why was he doing this? Why had he come to her rescue at all? Was this a test?
She followed Noa, almost running to keep up. For an old man, he was incredibly fit. Before she knew what was happening, they were descending a flight of old stone steps.
“This leads directly to one of our holding cells,” Noa explained. “When I was building Ark, I thought we would keep grain here in this underground bunker, but we soon found a more urgent need.”
At the bottom of the steps, a narrow corridor led them past a number of doors and finally to the first cell, a small room with a barred door. Letta looked, in but it was empty. At the next door, a woman was standing looking in. Her raspy breathing left no doubt as to her identity.
Noa stopped. Through the bars, Letta could see someone manacled to the wall. Her hair hung down limply around her face, and her feet were bare. She was looking at the floor. As they approached, she looked up. Letta drew in a sharp breath. She could feel the color draining from her face. It was Leyla, the saxophone player. John Noa turned to Amelia, who was standing staring into the cell.
“My dear,” he said, “what are you doing down here?”
Amelia looked up at him. “I came to beg you—” The air rasped through her lungs as if the life force was being sucked from her.
Noa stroked her cheek with his finger. “Stefano has cut some roses for you,” he said, speaking gently, as though to a child. “Roses in winter—think of that! There is nothing the Warriors cannot achieve. Why don’t you go up and put them in water?”
“Please, John.” Amelia grabbed his hands, clinging to him. “Please forgive her.”
“I don’t think you understand,” Noa said. “We can talk about this later.”
“But, John,” Amelia persisted, “she was once my sister. The only one I have left. You have to help her. I will take full responsibility.”
Her sister! How could Leyla be Amelia’s sister? Did Marlo know this?
“Please, John.” Amelia grabbed his arm.
Listen to her, Letta pleaded silently. People said Amelia was the person closest to Noa. If Leyla was her sister, he wouldn’t let any harm come to her. He loved Amelia, and that would make a difference. A weight shifted from Letta’s heart.
“Go now,” Noa was saying to Amelia. “Go. I will take care of everything.”
Amelia backed away from him as though afraid to lose eye contact, lest he change his mind. Letta stood listening to the gravelly noise of her breathing as she left them. Noa watched her till she disappeared around the corner, his eyes soft, his lips pursed.
“Carver!”
The word snapped across the hall, and suddenly, the gavver was standing beside them.
“Sir?” he said, ignoring Letta.
Noa nodded in Leyla’s direction.
“Did we get any useful information from her?”
“Not much,” Carver said. “Like all of them, she has nothing to say.”
Noa nodded and looked at Leyla again, a frown creasing his face. He leaned closer to the bars.
“Who are they, Leyla?” he whispered.
Leyla looked away from him.
“One name. One name for your life.”
No reaction.
“The life of your child.”
Letta watched as Leyla lifted her head and stared back at him. For a second, her gaze shifted to Letta, and Letta could s
ee the pain in her eyes. She’s pregnant, Letta thought. Will she not save her child before all of us?
“One name, Leyla.”
Noa’s mouth was against the bars.
Leyla looked up at Letta.
“Be strong, girl!” she said. “Like your mother. Like all the women in your family.”
She turned to Noa, then opened her mouth and started to sing, her eyes sparking with defiance.
Down in the valley
The stream flows on
In the heather morning
Quiet as a swan
Letta saw Noa’s face suffuse with color.
“Damn you!” He spat the words at the woman in the cell. “Terminate her.”
“Yes, sir,” Carver said, moving toward the cell. “We’ll take her to the forest and—”
“No! Do it here,” Noa said, grabbing his arm. “We can’t take any chances. They might be watching for her. And, Carver?”
The gavver looked at him, waiting.
“Do it now.”
No! A voice inside Letta screamed. Not Leyla.
But Carver was already opening the cell door.
“Come!” Noa said, putting an arm around Letta’s shoulder. “Enough of this.”
Letta heard the deadening sound of a blow, and Leyla cried out in pain.
Letta longed to turn around and fight for Leyla or at least to hold her in her arms and say good-bye. But she knew it was impossible. Carver would kill her too. Instead, she followed Noa back up the stairs and out onto the street.
The walk up the hill to Noa’s house was a silent one. Letta walked behind Noa, her dress clinging to her back, cold sweat drenching the fabric, her hip still aching from Carver’s boot. Images of Leyla’s face taunted her.
You have to keep it together, she told herself. Think! You need to reassure him, convince him you are on his side. That’s the only chance Leyla has.
He opened the door and strode ahead, not looking back to see if she was following. As she walked down the corridor toward his office, she felt herself calming. She could do this. She had to.
She sat opposite him, the great desk between them. As soon as he sat down, he picked up a document and started to read. Letta waited. Was she supposed to talk?
Finally, he looked up. “You had something you wanted to discuss?”
His eyes were like a hawk’s, she thought. Alert and wary.
“I had a thought, master,” she said, hardly daring to look at him.
“Yes?”
“I think the List should be even shorter.”
“You do?” he said with a half smile. “So you have changed your mind. And why is that?”
I have to make him believe me, Letta thought. This is it. I won’t get another chance.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said the last time we talked,” she said, “and I don’t think Ark will survive if the ordinary people have that many words.”
“Go on,” Noa said, and Letta could see he was watching her, judging her.
“I see it with people every day,” she said. “Even though their words are limited, they still come up with ridiculous ideas. They still spend their time going on about Ark, complaining about animals running wild on the streets. They are never happy. And then I thought, maybe we could have a much shorter List and a law against idle chatter. People should use words for function, not for nonsense!”
For a moment, Noa said nothing, then he threw back his head and laughed.
“What did I say?” Letta asked, trying to look as though he had hurt her feelings.
“You sound like me when I was a young man,” he said. “So strange to hear the old arguments again.”
“Again?” said Letta, and now she wasn’t acting. What did he mean again?
Noa stood up and walked to the window.
“Before the Melting,” he said, “the government found a way to remove language from the criminal elements in society.”
Nicene, Letta thought, trying to hide her excitement.
Noa turned to her, his blue eyes somber.
“Not everyone agreed with the device, of course, but it was effective.”
“How?” Letta asked. “How did they do it?”
“Not by way of List,” Noa said. “They found a way that was less kind and more deadly.” He hesitated.
“Did it work?” Letta asked eagerly.
The old man sighed. “Yes. It worked. It worked very well.”
“Can we use it then?” Letta said. “Can we do what they did?”
“I never wanted to go that way with Ark,” Noa replied. “I thought, you see, that we could create a sort of Eden here, where the lamb could lie down with the lion. I thought we could use language in a limited way, to communicate, but man is always so arrogant, so arrogant.”
Letta could see the despair in his eyes.
“But we could use it?” she pushed him. “Against the Desecrators?”
“Yes,” said Noa. “Against Desecrators. The gavvers tell me they are gathering support. They are planning to move against me.”
“No!” Letta said, jumping up. “They can’t be.”
“They use words to corrupt the people, to fool them into believing, just like they did before the Melting.”
“We have to stop them,” Letta said. “Surely there is a way to stop them spreading their…filth?”
She found it easy to act the part of the outraged wordsmith. She only had to remember how she used to feel about the Desecrators.
“Don’t worry, little one,” Noa said. “I have a plan. We may not need List anymore.”
“Like that method you mentioned, before the Melting?”
“Yes,” he said. “Just like that.”
He was staring at her again, and then he seemed to make a decision.
“You should go now Letta,” he said. “I am glad you told me about Hugo. I will speak to the gavvers and explain. Go now, child.”
Letta nodded. “Thank you, master,” she said and turned to go.
“One last thing,” he said. “In a day or so, I will send you some bottled water. I want you not to drink any other water but that until I tell you otherwise. It is important. Can you do that?”
He is going to do it, Letta thought wildly. He is going to put the Nicene in the water tank, but he has decided to spare me. She tried to show no sign that she knew what was going on.
“Of course,” she said. “But why?”
He waved his finger at her. “Sometimes, Letta, we have to follow orders and not ask questions. Can I rely on you?”
“Of course,” she said again, standing up. Her legs were shaking. Her head felt light.
Noa had turned back to his work. Rage stirred inside her. She stood for a second, looking at his bowed head and imagined killing him. She had never felt an impulse as strong in her life. This man did not deserve to live.
He looked up. “Was there something else?” Cold blue reptilian eyes.
“No,” Letta said. “Nothing.”
Her thoughts were in turmoil as she made her way back to the front door. She had to tell the others she knew the water was about to be poisoned, and she also had to warn Finn that they were going to kill Leyla.
Amelia appeared from one of the closed doors just as Letta approached it. Her face was white and drawn, her eyes too bright, like someone with a fever.
“Leyla is your sister?” Letta said softly.
“Yes,” Amelia answered, “my sister.”
“There were three of you?” Letta said, remembering what Solam had told her in Tintown.
Amelia looked at her, eyes boring through her. For a moment, there was silence. Then Amelia spoke again.
“Yes. Three. My other sister was lost,” she said. “But Leyla and I survived.” Amelia looked down the corridor
as though searching for something or someone. “Leyla once worked with us, here, building Ark, but she and John—”
“They didn’t get along?”
“She was a musician. When John banned all music, Leyla couldn’t, wouldn’t accept it. She was always stubborn. My father spoiled her. His little color-catcher. That was what he called her.”
“What will happen to her now?” Letta asked.
Amelia shrugged. “John will protect her. She doesn’t deserve it, but he will do it for me.”
I have to let her know, Letta thought. She can still save her. Even if it means Noa’s anger is directed at me, I have to say something.
Letta shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “He has already ordered them to kill her.”
Amelia’s eyes flashed for a second, then her hand shot up and slapped Letta across the face.
“How dare you! John would not do that,” she said, air hissing through her mouth. “Get out of my house.”
Letta turned, opened the door, and left. She could only hope that Amelia’s anger would extend to Noa and that she could stop him from destroying Leyla once and for all. It would be worth any pain if that happened, but in her heart, she knew it was already too late.
Overhead, a gull screamed, and Letta quickened her step. She had to talk to Finn.
• • •
Back at home, she threw herself into Benjamin’s chair and let the tears that had lodged in her throat fall freely. She hugged her knees to her chest and tried to stay calm. She replayed the scene at Leyla’s cell. Had Leyla known all along that Noa would kill her? Had she hoped for mercy? What had she meant about the women in Letta’s family. What women?
Marlo came in so quietly that she didn’t hear him till he appeared in the door.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
He was beside her in a heartbeat, kneeling beside her chair.
“Shh!” he said. “It’s all right.”
“You know about Leyla?”
“Yes. We thought we had lost both of you.”
His hand caressed her arm. She looked into his eyes.
“Leyla—” she began.
“Finn has gone to see what he can find out.”
“How did they catch her?”
The List Page 20