Luminary (3 page)

If I knew how to turn off the volume in my helmet, I would. Instead, I have to listen to stories about hearty people, about a place called the Alamo, about cowboys and rodeos and boots. I don’t really know these words, but they are forced on me anyway in this transport going south, headed toward this place that used to house independent, hardworking people who rode animals called bulls for fun and holed up in forts until they died.

I see my reflection in the mirrored surface of the helmet. My eyes appear more blue than green today. My hair hangs in limp, wavy brownish strands along the side of my face. I look the way I feel—pathetic.

“A friend of mine was from Texas, and he used to call it ‘the promised land.’ ” John is still talking. “Fitting for us. We are escaping our own Egypt. Perhaps Texas is our promised land.”

“Or maybe it’s just as barren as this land.” I can’t hold it in any longer. I have to speak. “Maybe we’ll get there and those orange dots will want to kill us. Or eat us. Maybe they are even worse than the Scientists ever were.”

“The Israelites said the same kinds of things when they were making their way to the Promised Land. Let’s not make the mistakes they made. Let us trust the Designer. He has worked many miracles throughout history. I believe we are about to experience another one.”

I bite my lip. I won’t argue with John. But I can’t believe blindly the way he does. I wish I could. But I have too many questions, too many doubts. I have just begun to believe in a Designer, in a plan, a purpose for humanity. But my faith is weak. This is too much.

“We should stop here,” Berk says, and the transport begins to lower to the ashen ground. “Rhen, will you help me prepare dinner? Thalli, you and John can set up the temporary chamber.”

I do not want to stop. The Monitors who might be following us won’t stop. They do not have a ninety-year-old man with them. They do have the impetus of the Scientists behind them, though, and I feel certain the Scientists want to bring us back, to make sure there is no possibility of anyone from the outside finding out about the State from anyone but them.

Berk clicks a button and I no longer hear him, though I know he is still talking. Through the lens in my helmet, I see him walking beside Rhen—close beside Rhen. She is leaning her head toward Berk, like she can hear him through her helmet.

“Shall we begin?” John’s voice is in my ear, as happy as ever.

I try to focus on getting the temporary chamber assembled. I have never used one of these before. Never seen one. Why would we even have them? Our pods were perfectly good, safe. We had no need to leave them. Unless, like me, we had a medical issue. But then we’d go to a medical facility. I turn the white rectangle around. There is a small screen on the side. I touch it and it comes to life.

“Press the blue initiation panel,” a computerized voice instructs me. I look all over. There is no blue panel. “Press the blue initiation panel.”

“Be quiet!” I know the voice can’t hear me, wouldn’t care if it could, but I shout anyway. I throw the unassembled chamber to the ground. There is no blue initiation panel. We’ll be sleeping on the dusty, diseased ground. Which is fine. Death will only come sooner if we spend our nights sucking in this horrible air. These helmets can only protect us so much. Surely the toxic fumes are already finding ways to seep into our bloodstreams.

“Here it is,” John says.

Apparently, the panel is visible to everyone but me. I take a quick step back as the chamber comes to life. Its white walls are streaked with gray dirt as it rises from the ground, a cylinder-shaped chamber, large enough to house all four of us. John is on his knees checking the edges.

“What are you doing?”

John eases to his feet, his muscles likely sore from our day of travel. “Just checking. Back when I was a young man, we had something called tents, and we had to make sure they were stuck tight to the ground. I remember once—”

John’s eyes lock onto mine and he stops his story. I don’t know what nonverbal signals I am sending of my boredom, but they must be pretty awful, judging by the look on his face.

“This is in tight.” John looks back at the chamber. “I don’t know how they do it, but it’s solid as a house.”

I walk around the chamber, touch the walls. They are solid. Not the same kind of material as the pods back in the State, but they are sturdy. I try to find the entrance, but the entire structure is seamless. No door, no window. And I still don’t see the blue panel.

“Very nice.” Berk and Rhen are back. He surveys the chamber with a light in his eyes. He is happy. How can he sound so
relaxed when we are about to spend our first night—ever—outside of the State, pursued, no doubt, by representatives sent from the State?

“There’s no door.” I declare the obvious because it seems I am the only one who realizes it.

“You’re right.” Berk doesn’t seem upset by this fact. He puts a hand on top of the structure, and an entrance appears. “This is a brand-new development. I grabbed it from another Scientist in training.”

“You stole it?”

“I couldn’t exactly ask for it, could I? We needed a place to sleep. And a transport. And food. And these decontamination suits.”

“Isn’t stealing wrong?” I look at John.

“Let’s think of it as plunder from the Egyptians.” John tries to sound confident, but I can tell he is bothered by this too.

“Let’s just go in and take a look around.” Berk steps into the chamber. “Then we can eat and get some sleep.”

I follow Berk. The chamber makes me feel relaxed. It looks familiar. Like my cube back in Pod C, but round. White walls, white floor, even white sleeping platforms. How this all fit in that tiny rectangle, I have no clue. But I am glad for it.

“This is perfect.” Rhen sits on one of the platforms.

“How are we going to sleep with these helmets on?” Just the thought of it causes my neck to ache.

Berk touches the entrance and it closes, looking as seamless from the inside as it did from the outside. Then he removes his helmet.

“No!” I rush to Berk and try to shove the helmet back on his head. “What are you doing?”

Berk throws his helmet down and begins to remove mine. I push him away, but he is stronger than I am.

“Relax.” Berk takes a huge breath.

I lose track of my thoughts as I take in his face—so handsome it makes my heart hurt. His light brown hair is messy from hours inside the helmet, but his green eyes are bright with joy. His face is unshaven—light whiskers in patches on his cheeks and his chin. “The air is safe in here. This was a prototype designed for Scientists who wanted to spend evenings aboveground to begin testing the atmosphere.”

“So the Monitors won’t have one of these?” The tightness in my chest lightens just a fraction, relief combating with anger that Berk did not tell us this earlier. “They only have the suits?”

“Correct.” Berk pulls my helmet off my head. “It will take several months to make a new one.”

I take a deep breath. The air is clean. “But it’s a prototype?” I grip the edge of the sleeping platform. “It hasn’t been tested?”

“No, it hasn’t.”

Rhen and John take their helmets off at the same time. Rhen takes a cautious breath. “You’re sure it can withstand the travel? Being used and shut up again each night?”

“It is made from the best material. It can handle anything.” Berk sits on a sleeping platform and runs his fingers through his hair. I look at this shelter, hoping Berk is right.

“Amazing.” John leans forward. “I hate to be a bother, but I am quite hungry.”

Berk jumps up from the platform. “Of course. The food should be ready now. We’ll have to put the helmets back on, but it will only take a moment.”

We go back outside, to a pit Rhen and Berk dug. Smoke is
pouring out of it. I am sure the smoke smells delicious. But, of course, I can smell nothing through this helmet.

“Another theft.” I walk closer, seeing four meals in white containers at the bottom of the pit.

“We have to eat.” Rhen shrugs and reaches for one of the containers. She hands it to me, then reaches for another. By the time she pulls the last one out, my stomach rumbles. I am hungry. I want to ask how these meals were cooked and stored. I saw so little on the transport, yet we now have a chamber and sleeping platforms and meals. But I don’t ask because I hear another rumble. Not my stomach this time. But surely not someone else’s. That loud?

I turn to see where the sound is coming from, and Rhen gasps in the speaker. And then I see what made her gasp.

Three huge animals, with red eyes and saliva dripping off sharp, fang-like teeth. These are animals unlike any I have ever seen on our learning pads. Huge heads, smaller bodies, matted gray fur. And the noises they’re making are more than rumbles. They are angry sounds, hungry sounds. They have come here for their meal too.

They have come for us.

CHAPTER THREE

I
have never known so much fear. Not even seeing Monitors would have made me feel the way I am feeling now. The three animals are coming closer, red tongues hanging out, red eyes darting from Berk to Rhen to me to John. I don’t know what to do. I am certain that if we move, they will move too. We are standing still but they are moving. Slowly. Very slowly.

I suddenly remember seeing a video lesson on animals called wolves. They traveled in packs, were fast, and ate animals much larger than themselves. Because they were considered unnecessary to the State, the Scientists did not breed any. These animals look eerily similar to those wolves on my learning pad. But these survived the War, adapted to the toxic
air. My heart beats faster. If the primitive wolves were dangerous, what will these mutated forms be like?

I see Berk from the corner of my eye. As soon as I realize what he is doing, it is too late to stop him. He runs as fast as he can away from us, causing the animals to follow him.

“Go back to the chamber.” Berk’s voice sounds so close, coming through the speaker in my helmet. Yet he is running so far away. “Go!”

Rhen pulls at my arm. “Thalli. He is right.”

The first wolf pounces on Berk, dragging him to the gray dirt. The animal’s teeth dig into Berk’s thigh.

“No!” I am running, willing the animals off Berk. But they have surrounded him. I will not let him die for me. “Get off of him. Get away.”

“Thalli.” Rhen’s voice is strained. “I’m going for the transport. Come with me. You can’t help him.”

“I have to.” Berk is fighting, kicking the wolves. But they don’t let up. They are trying to rip off his suit, get to his flesh. They’ll kill him. They’ll kill Berk.

“Stop!
” But of course they don’t hear me. They don’t have speakers in their ears. I twist my helmet and rip it off, then toss it on the ground as I run toward Berk, toward the wolves. “Get away! Get off of him!”

The wolves look at me. They freeze. Their ears perk up, furry triangles that point at me. The biggest one howls—a bone-melting howl. My ears ring with the sound long after he finishes. In the distance, another wolf responds. He is calling for more. Telling them there is another meal here. Berk is yelling, but I only hear muffled grunts and groans. I only see eyes full of fear and pain.

I turn around and see Rhen on the transport—high enough
to be out of the wolves’ range, but close enough for her to reach out to try to pull me up.

“No.” I push her away. “I have to get Berk.”

Rhen grabs my hand. The wolves are charging me. I try to wrestle out of her grasp. Blood stains the right leg of Berk’s white suit. I don’t know how badly he is hurt, but I have to protect him, give him a chance to get to Rhen. He is struggling to his feet. I want to go help him, but I don’t want the wolves following me, endangering him once again.

Rhen, refusing to release my hand, lowers the transport so it is right at my knees. I turn to look at her and she rams the transport into me, making me fall backward. We rise above the wolves, me lying flat on the transport.

“No!” I look down. The wolves howl at us. But it won’t be long before they return to Berk, try to finish him off. I have to get off the transport.

I walk to the main steering column, push Rhen away. I need to go down. The panels lining the column don’t have instructions. Just colors. I press the red button. We stop. I press the orange. We move to the right.

I close my eyes. “Designer. Help me.” I reach for the last panel, almost at the bottom of the column. It is black, smaller than the others. I hope it isn’t a self-destruct button. But I am out of options. The wolves are turning around, back toward Berk, tired of howling at us.

A siren pierces the air. I cover my bare ears with my hands. The wolves shrink backward. The biggest one howls—or at least I think he is howling. The siren is too loud to hear anything but its blaring, blaring, blaring, cutting through the sky with its razor sound.

The biggest wolf leaps off to the right, his legs moving so fast that a cloud of dust comes up behind him, hiding him from view. The other two follow quickly, one behind the other. I keep my hands over my ears and watch until I can’t see the dust cloud anymore. Then I press the panel once again. The siren is off.

“Get to Berk,” I shout to Rhen, my ears still ringing. “Now.”

Rhen slams her finger into the purple panel and we are lowered, moving forward so we land right beside Berk. There is so much blood. I feel sick to my stomach, suddenly glad I haven’t eaten. Berk’s face is almost as white as his suit. Holes perforate his pants where the wolf’s teeth were just moments ago.

I jump down and go to him.

His eyes are wide. He is in pain. I don’t know what to do to help him. He is saying something, but I can’t hear him with my helmet off.

My helmet is off!

That’s what Berk is upset about. He is trying to get up, to find my helmet. I push on his shoulders. I can’t let him move. He has lost too much blood already. We have to get him back to the chamber, stop the bleeding.

“I’m fine,” I mouth slowly, right in front of him. “We need to take care of
you
.”

Rhen is beside me, my helmet in her hand. Berk must have been giving her instructions. She places it back on my head, tightens it a little harder than necessary, and clicks it on. “What were you thinking?”