by Annie Oldham
Jack leans his head over the top bunk. “Are you still awake?” he whispers.
I peer up at him, and his eyes gleam in the faint reflections of light filtering under the door. I nod.
He climbs down. “Do you mind?”
I scoot closer to the wall and fling the covers over both of us. He grabs my hand, leaving the palm up and starts writing on it. His touch tingles through the calloused skin of my hand all the way to my toes.
Nervous?
Yes.
Shouldn’t be.
I know. Can’t help it.
Jack leans his head against mine, and I feel his cheeks turning up with his smile. His finger hovers over my hand before he decides to write.
You’ll be fine.
Don’t know. Apparently I have a communication problem.
You saw a psychologist?
I bump his shoulder. Not that kind. The doctor said.
Your tongue?
I guess.
Jack presses his lips to my forehead before writing again. You’re beautiful. I nudge him in the ribs, but he holds my hand still. I’m serious.
I know he is. And the thought that he thinks I’m beautiful warms me and even helps shrink the pit in my stomach. If only my father could see the good things in me the way Jack can.
Jack lets go of my hand and traces a finger down my cheek to the corner of my mouth. Then he presses his lips to mine so softly I could just be imagining it. I fall asleep with his warm breath in my hair and his fingers laced through mine.
Nell, Red, Jack, and I sit in the chairs by the medical attendant’s desk. Nell and Red have both left their wheelchairs behind. It’s amazing what two days of decent food, rest, and no loyalty serum will do for your health. Nell’s eyes are sharp, the way they were the first time I met her in the settlement, and Red has already started filling out.
We each hold our set of clothes we were wearing from the Burn, and the medical attendant is going through the checkout procedure on her tablet.
“Item three. The keypads next to the door of your quarters have already been programmed to recognize your handprints,” she says, pausing to look up and smile at us. I wonder if she has a quota of smiles she has to meet each day. I shouldn’t think it—she’s been nothing but kind to us—but her demeanor is just such a contrast to what I’m used to. Funny how I was accustomed to this not even a year ago, and now it’s foreign all over again.
Her sweet voice continues until Red clears his throat. “Miss?”
She keeps going.
“Miss?”
Her eyes take a second to focus on him. She smiles. “Yes, Red?”
“How many more of these items are there?”
She scans her tablet. “There are ten items total. Did you need something or shall I keep going?”
Red sighs and leans back in his chair, and Nell pats his knee. “No, no. Keep going.”
The medical attendant turns her eyes on all of us one at a time, her lips turning higher. Her singsong voice continues, and Red folds and unfolds his hands. Then he crosses his legs and a minute later recrosses them. He checks the clock on the opposite wall. I understand his fidgeting. He wants nothing more than to be out of limbo and into a real life. I think another day of this would have driven him insane.
“Terra?”
My head snaps up. How many times has she been saying my name? Jack chuckles behind his hand.
“As soon as you’re released from quarantine, you’re to report to the medical area for a last exam.”
My communication problem, no doubt. I shake my head.
“Is it a problem, Terra?” The medical attendant checks her tablet. “I can reschedule the appointment if necessary.”
I wave my hand. No, it’s not a problem. That’s the whole point.
She drones on for another minute, and then we’re free. Red stands, stretching his legs and his arms like he’s waking up from hibernation. Nell’s eyes are shining as she watches the medical attendant open the door. It slides back with a hiss, and outside, people are coming and going. A few glance over as they pass by, and Nell clutches Red’s hand.
“Is it possible?” she whispers. She takes a hesitant step.
Red stoops to kiss her cheek. “Let’s go. I feel like we’re on that honeymoon we never got to have.”
“Would you like help finding your quarters?” the medical assistant asks, hugging her tablet to her chest and smiling. Looking at Nell and Red, I can’t help smiling either.
“No, no. I think Terra could show us around.”
I nod. I’d like nothing more than to spend a few hours with them outside of these few rooms. We walk out the door.
“Terra!”
Mr. Klein’s rich, warm voice greets me as I step outside quarantine. He’s leaning against the opposite wall and stands as soon as he sees me, running his hands to smooth the creases in his pant legs. I rush to hug him.
It’s an awkward moment as I clasp his back and he pats mine. Before I never would have dreamt of hugging a teacher. But he got me to the Burn. I always thought of Gaea as the one getting me there, giving me the supplies and the sub and the directions. But I never would have found Gaea if Mr. Klein hadn’t pointed me in the right direction. He fed my love of the Burn. I never really realized how grateful I am to him.
He pulls back and grips my shoulders, holding me at arms’ length. His eyes look deep into mine, and I’m not sure what he’s looking for. I hold my own, afraid to blink. Finally he lets me go and nods.
“You’re happy.” It’s not a question.
I nod. In a strange way, I am. If someone were to look back on the turn my life has taken, they might seriously doubt my sanity to consider me happy. But I am.
His voice drops. “Gaea told me the price you had to pay. I’ve told her it was too much. I’m sorry. And I think she is too, every day.”
I look at my feet. I still haven’t wrapped my head around the whole idea of my mother and being in such close proximity to her.
Jack steps next to me and shakes Mr. Klein’s hand. “Nice to see you again, Rint.”
He nods. “You too, Jack. You want to come to my office and talk, Terra? I have so many questions for you.”
I shake my head. Jack helps me out.
“She has an appointment with medical first.” Jack turns to Nell and Red. “Why don’t I show you where you’ll be living?”
“Mind if I come to medical with you, Terra? It’s not anything involved, is it?” Mr. Klein looks a little embarrassed to be asking, but I’m sure he doesn’t want to spend a minute away. Not with someone who’s been to the Burn and back.
I don’t mind at all. I’d rather have someone with me—someone I trust—than be in there alone while they try to solve my ‘problem.’
Mr. Klein waits outside while the doctor performs a few last tests, and then he comes in and sits down in a chair. I’m glad I have Mr. Klein with me because my blood starts to boil as soon as the doctor says, “Voice box.”
Mr. Klein stands beside me while the doctor returns with a device in his hands. It’s a sleek silver card on a clear strip of plastic. It’s a thousand times more sophisticated than the voice box I used in the labor camp, but it’s still a voice box, and I want to fling the thing away from me. I scoot back on the exam table and hold my hand out to say, Stop. Don’t let it near me.
Mr. Klein frowns. “What’s wrong, Terra?”
I shake my head. I don’t want to even touch the thing. I won’t be reduced to a machine here in the colony, a place I used to call home.
“You don’t want the voice box?” Mr. Klein asks, confusion wrinkling his forehead as he exchanges glances with the doctor.
No.
“Why?”
Oh the reasons would take far too long. I put my head in my hands. He pats my back awkwardly.
The doctor steps forward. “I can assure you it’s perfectly harmless. It simply senses the vibrations in your throat and vocal chords—”
I know. Oh, heav
ens do I know. And I also know the way it makes me sound like an automaton.
“Then I don’t understand the problem.”
The doctor still has his hands extended toward me when the door slides open and Jack steps through. He takes one look at the doctor and what’s in his hands and stops dead in his tracks. He laughs humorlessly.
“Are you serious?”
The doctor looks from me to Jack. “Well, yes, I’m serious. I thought Terra would like being able to communicate more efficiently and so thought the voice box would be an ideal solution. It’s painless, easily put on and taken off, and weighs virtually nothing. She won’t even notice it’s there.”
Jack puts a hand to the back of his neck, and his eyes linger on me. “They really are serious.”
I nod. I’m glad he knows me so well.
“Dr. Keyes.” I forget he must know him. He worked in medicine until he came back to me. “Here’s the problem with the voice box. You may or may not know that Terra was imprisoned in a labor camp while she was on land.” The doctor flinches when he says this. The people here really have no idea what life is like up there. People like my father have more than seen to that. “In this labor camp, just one of the humiliations Terra faced was to wear a voice box that made her sound like nothing more than a robot just so the people in charge could have the satisfaction of—”
The doctor holds up a perfectly manicured hand. “Say no more. The voice is of no concern. There are five voices you can choose from, and I’m certain one of them will be to your liking.”
I roll my eyes and rip the voice box out of his hand. He’s so clueless. I really can’t blame him—he was raised to be clueless. I’ll put the stupid thing on just so I don’t have to deal with the doctor again. Then I’ll slip it in my pocket as soon as I’m out of here.
“You don’t have to,” Jack says.
I know.
The doctor hovers over me, fussing with his hands in the air, as I attach it. He almost jumps in a few times to adjust it, but I lean away from him. Mr. Klein stands by Jack and watches the whole production with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk. Finally the doctor nods his head in satisfaction.
“Now to change the voice, simply press this button here.” He guides my fingers until I find a small raised bump. “One press for each change. It will cycle through them. The voice box itself has speakers in it, which can be adjusted in volume. You may find if you turn it up too high, however, that the sound will distort.”
My fingers slip away from the plastic and I nod. I admit it—it will be easier to actually talk to people instead of spelling everything out. Especially in my meeting with the council scheduled in two days. But I’m not going to do this in front of him. I’ll test it out with Jack when we can find a quiet place in a corridor somewhere. It’s too embarrassing trying on new voices in front of everyone.
I slip off the exam table and grab my clothes. Everyone is still hovering around the edges of the room, and I give Jack a pointed look.
“Oh, right. I’ll meet you at the Juice Deck?”
I nod, and Dr. Keyes and Mr. Klein take the hint and leave the room with him. I remember the last time I was naked for a physical; when I needed to be hosed down and sanitized at the labor camp. My fingers brush along my colony clothes. They actually are mine—not ones assigned to me—and I wonder if the medical staff retrieved them from my quarters or if Jessa picked them out herself. The fabric is soft as I slip the dress over my head. It falls down to my knees. I look in the mirror hidden behind the door. The dress is robin-egg blue. If you had asked me a year ago what robin-egg blue actually looked like, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. But I’ve seen robins’ eggs, and this color matches them exactly. I’d like to be able to tell Jessa that, but I’m not sure if she’d really get it.
I smooth my hair. I’m about to turn to the door when I stop and study the girl in the mirror again. The bruises on my face are just about gone after being tended to by Dr. Keyes; only the faintest green hue over my jawbone remains. My hair is shiny after my perfect diet of the past few days. I push my feet into my slippers and stare at myself. I look older than I did when I left the colony. Not like I have crow’s feet or anything, but my eyes are older. I’ve seen and done more than I could possibly imagine. My jaw is sharper. My arms and legs are thinner, but they’ve also filled out with muscle. I’m not as soft as I used to be. No wonder Dad looked like he hardly knew me when I stepped off the sub.
I fiddle with the collar of my dress, arranging it so it hides most of the voice box. I’m stalling here, but I’m not sure entirely why. I know Jack waits for me outside, and I want to be wrapped up in his arms more than anything. It’s everyone else I can’t face. Everyone else and the questions that muddle their faces every time I walk by.
I take a deep breath and stand stock-still in front of the door until it slides open. Jack leans against the wall on the other side of the corridor. I’m not used to seeing him so relaxed, but he’s a chameleon that way—he looks equally comfortable down here as he does up there. I wish I had that skill. He smiles and holds out a hand. I slip my fingers through his and he stands and leads the way down the hall.
Mr. Klein?
“He was called away—had an appointment with a student.” Jack takes my hand. “You’d better talk to him soon, though. I don’t think he can wait much longer.”
I nod and run my fingers over the voice box, unable to leave it alone.
“Do you want to pick out a voice now, or put the voice box in a drawer and never look at it again?”
I smile up at him and all my hesitation melts away. How does he always know exactly what to say? I wrap my other hand around his arm and pull him against my side. We walk down the corridor that way until the next intersection. Then I take a right. This will lead to a small observation deck that hardly anyone ever uses—it’s too out-of-the-way.
Now.
Jack sits down on a bench by a window. Through the black water I see the shimmering lights of another observation deck. I sigh and look up and find the watcher imbedded in the ceiling. Even when you think you’re alone down here, you never are.
Jack follows my gaze and then presses his palm against my cheek to turn my face toward him. “Ignore it.”
Right. There are eyes watching me wherever I go. I miss the forest where there’s nothing but trees, animals, and my cabin. Then my heart catches as I think of the watchers and scanners installed so close to my home. There’s nothing that’s just mine anywhere now.
Jack’s other hand finds my cheek, and he holds my face and looks at me. My skin warms under his touch. “You don’t have to do this, you know. We can take the voice box back to medical and just tell them you won’t use it.”
I shake my head. It’s never that easy. There’s a whole political game you have to play, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the council who orchestrated the whole voice-box thing just to feel like they were back in control again.
I’ll do it. And even I have to admit, it will be easier. I trace my finger along the plastic until I find the button. I press it once and speak.
“How’s this?” The voice is high-pitched and breathy.
Jack smiles at me. “Not quite you. Or was it? Somehow I can’t imagine you sounding like that.”
I laugh. Definitely not.
I press the button again, but this one is a low alto and I could almost be a guy. I press the button and it’s more manageable, but too monotone. It’s like the robot all over again. I press the button, and this time the voice is a tone or two lower than mine, but closer. The words come out just a little too husky, but it’s much better.
“I like that one,” Jack says, sitting back.
“Me too. I think it’s about as close as we’ll get.”
Jack takes my hand. You don’t have to use it with me.
I kiss him. Thank you.
Chapter Sixteen
Jack and I are staying with Jessa and Gram. The colony had tried to offer Jack his own qu
arters back, but Gram wouldn’t hear of it. “He’s practically family,” she said. And he doesn’t mind sleeping on the couch. It’s a million times better than sleeping with a rock under your back. It’s funny to think Gram used to be a speaker herself. I can’t imagine my father letting someone sleep on a couch.
I put my hand to the door scanner, it glows green, and the door slides open. Gram gathers me into her arms. I breathe deeply, taking in the scent of freesia and nutritionally optimized bread slices. It sends a pang through my heart. Not everything in the colony is bad, and there are some things I really miss.
Gram runs her hands over my hair and then holds my face and just looks at me for several seconds. Then she breaks into a wide smile.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Terra. You’ve been missed.”
Not by everyone. But I don’t say it or spell it; it would be too hurtful. That doesn’t stop Gram from reading it in my expression, though. Her silver eyebrows knit together for a moment, and I can’t bear the scrutiny of her gaze. I turn my head and her hands slip away from my cheeks.
Gram wipes her hands on her apron. “I was just getting dinner ready. Did you want to help, Jack?”
Jack steps from the doorway. “Yes, ma’am.”
Gram beams at him. “You’ve been missed too.” She leans to my ear. “I like Jack very much, you should know.”
I raise an eyebrow. How much time did he and Gram spend together during those months we were apart?
Jack and Gram work in the kitchen, passing dishes to each other. Gram doesn’t let me help. She shoos me to the table, fluttering her hands to get me to sit down. The screen in the front room shows images of the dinner prep step-by-step, and I watch the screen show cut vegetables, and then Gram cuts the vegetables and Jack browns the meat. Gram tries to make conversation.