Under My Skin (5 page)

“You’ll have plenty of time to explore your quarters.” Monika took my arm and directed me to the table. She laughed softly. “You’ve never had dinner like this before?”

“Never.”

“Most of us never have—nor will we ever,” she replied. A boy, who had to be no more than ten, pulled back my chair. I sat while a young girl with red hair added a napkin in my lap. Covered plates on the far end of the table tempted me with the possibilities of a full belly.

“Do you want a glass of water with your tea?” the boy asked.

“No, thank you,” I murmured. “What’s your name?”

The boy kept quiet. I glanced at the others and asked the same question. No one answered. They merely kept their eyes on their tasks.

“They’re busy working,” Monika said. “As a Water Bearer with several affluent benefactors, you’ll find your quarters, in addition to your food, are the best.”

The boy placed a bowl of butternut squash soup in front of me. Thick and creamy, I couldn’t wait to eat. I immediately reached for the spoon, but then I paused to ask, “Do you know why they chose me to get all this?”

“No, I don’t.” Her smile didn’t appear as grand. “I guess they see something in you that will be of value to them in the future.”

I took two bites. The soup was hot, but I didn’t care. I’d never tasted food so filling, so wonderful. Even my mother’s homemade oatmeal cookies didn’t compare to the blend of spices I sampled. Sweet. Hot. Each slurp was meant to be savored. By the time I scraped the bottom, the boy came for my bowl.

“I’m not done yet,” I said.

“You have three more courses to finish.” Monika pointed to the other covered plates.

I’d been far too eager. “That’s a lot.”

One of the three girls picked the top off another dish. I fought the urge to frown. Most hungry people on the street would clamor for what they placed before me, a plate of warm venison topped with gray gravy. My stomach churned from the thought of putting the leathery meat in my mouth.

I pushed the food away.

“Is it not to your liking?” Monika asked.

“It looks...perfect. But would someone else like to eat the meat?”

Her whole face scrunched up as if she’d tasted something bad. She opened her mouth to speak, but, at that moment, someone knocked on the door. Zoe’s head peered inside.

“Hey, Tate.” After catching my grin, she came in, holding a plate covered with a napkin. “They brought me my food, but I refused to eat in a cold room alone.”

My cousin whistled at my furnishings. “Now this is nice! Whatcha got there?”

“I have a dead deer on my plate.”

She plopped down in one of the free seats next to me. “Mom never understood why you guys are vegetarians. I saw it as an opportunity for extra servings during family gatherings.”

“That’s true!”

From my other side, Monika showed her displeasure. She said to one of the servants, “Why wasn’t the door locked? Check her room to make sure her staff are doing their jobs.”

I spoke up. “Monika, everything’s fine. I can’t eat all this food. Not alone anyway. Does anyone care to join me?”

The three kids didn’t look up. Only the boy stole a glance at the food on the table.

“I do!” Zoe snatched my plate away to place it next to the one she brought in. “After those dumplings they gave me, this will definitely bring a nice end to my evening.” She began eating. “Thanks…”

I shrugged. Might as well let someone else enjoy it.

With an exasperated face, Monika hurried to shift the place settings when the servants dawdled.

“I won’t eat all this food,” I said. “I never had this much back at home.”

“We had enough,” Zoe said softly in between bites.

Enough wasn’t much on most days. Our town was simply a small fishing village where everyone helped each other produce food. As much as I wanted to live somewhere else, I couldn’t resist thinking about my tiny house that was only a street away from the ocean.

“My whole house could fit in this room. It’s not much, especially for four people.” I tore off a piece of bread and added it to the small plate the boy placed in front of me.

“I miss my books,” I whispered.

She leaned toward me. “You’ll find some sooner or later. Tate the book magnet. You always do.” As much as I wanted to share reading with Zoe, she didn’t care for leisure reading as much as I did.

I rolled my eyes. When drifters came through town, they sold all sorts of things. My dad traded food for machinery while I traded for books. I treasured ancient literature since books are forbidden in Myria. No literature was allowed except for the materials sanctioned by the Guild on the network. I didn’t obey though. The coastline was a different place compared to the inland cities, and I missed it already.

Our whispered conversation continued. “What’s the last book you read?” she asked.

Now she’d picked the perfect topic. I got up and stood behind her. One of her braids had unraveled a bit, so I released the plait to re-braid it again. “My dad found a whole collection of books by Sophie Saint John.”

Zoe’s nose wrinkled. “Who is she?”

Like most of my friends, Zoe didn’t know about the authors of the past. Books had been replaced by the virtual programming or textbooks on the comm-consoles. For those who had access to the network, they could watch the government-sponsored shows. In most of them, the actors and actresses either tried to sell us some product (which it seemed everyone couldn’t afford) or they touted all about how great the government was to us. It was a bunch of mindless—or meaningless—entertainment that was nothing compared to the great worlds I explored in my books.

“I’ve read half the collection already and I’m hooked. Sophie Saint John was one of the traveling storytellers,” I whispered. My hands continued to work, settling in a familiar task I could do in the dark. We often braided each other’s hair. “She used to go from village to village, telling her fantastic tales of how life was before the plagues. One of her assistants wrote them all down for the world to read.”

While Zoe ate the food, I told her all about Sophie Saint John’s books like
Cast Aside in Time. The Great Adventurers in the Beyond.
They were books where I could be swept away into another place, another time. In those places, I’d find unforgettable characters who led the most fascinating lives. The kind of life I wanted to have.

“I would’ve never thought you read that kind of stuff,” Zoe said. “Most of the books you have are rather dull.” She flashed a small smile to show she was kidding.

“I could use a boring book right about now. I might never see my books or my home ever again.”

Night had fallen outside my wide windows. Shadows crept into the room, leaving only the light from the fireplace and a single floating lamp to illuminate the room. Zoe had left an hour ago, leaving me alone to explore my room.

First, I checked the door to see if I could sneak out. It was locked.

Since I couldn’t leave, I took the time to check every dark corner and see what I could find. Beyond the double set of doors, I explored my beautiful bathroom with its cast iron tub and tiny vanity. Not a single surface had fingerprints or dirt. It was nothing like the miniscule bathroom I shared with my family. Even the set of towels and the bar of citrus-scented soap were brand new.

A window inspection came next. A simple latch kept the window shut, but when I pushed it up, I met another obstacle, a set of thick metal bars. Which meant only one thing: there’d be no escaping tonight.

My gaze flicked to the comm-console on the desk. It was nothing much. Just a standard unit with a viewing screen and a touchpad for input. I scrolled through the screens. One channel for sports. Another one for news from the government. And finally, a channel for browsing the network. I slid into the chair and tried to bring up the email manager. Perhaps I could contact Mom and Dad. But the electronic mail program flashed red when I tried to execute it. No dice. I didn’t have authorization to send any outgoing messages. But the network did have a button for my profile. After a few clicks, I found a notice that my stipend had begun for my family. When the number popped up on the screen, my breath caught. Hundreds of credits had been sent to my family.

A great weight fell off my shoulders. Dad would get his medications. A joy I hadn’t felt for hours filled me. With my upbeat mood, I scrolled through the news for while, but nothing jumped out at me. Everything related to people and places I didn’t care about. Before long, my eyelids grew heavy. It was time to sleep. To remove the stale air in the room, I opened the window.

In five steps, I leaped onto the bed. It was divine. Soft sheets, perfumed with the citrus scent I smelled in the soap. Soon enough, my body relaxed and the hints of sleep touched my senses.

But then, a breeze from the window shifted something on the desk. A piece of paper scrambled across the worn wood before it floated to the floor. I had snuggled under the blankets, why should I get up to retrieve it? But I heard my Mom speaking to me as though she was here.
Tate, we don’t have much, but we do keep it tidy,
she’d say. I had to keep my personal space clean. Even a room as grand as this one. With a grumble, I got out of bed and picked up the paper. The dim light from the fire wasn’t much, but I could make out the words with no problem.

I sucked in a breath as I read. My fingers tightened on the thin parchment paper. I should’ve known better since I’d handled such rare materials like paper before. But to see how the Guild glamorized the whole event with this advertisement made my heart pound furiously and my hands clench.

What I held in my hands was the public announcement of the auction of the Water Bearers to the Guild. I dropped the paper and let it fall back on the floor. The suite, the personal servants—all of it—would vanish along with my freedom. I would be sold in less than a week.

The next two days blurred together like dark gray clouds covering the sky. Hour upon hour, we sat in gray-walled classrooms as tutors droned on about politics and protocols. How to perform serving duties for people who had fancy place settings. How to properly speak to the Guild. When we weren’t studying, the older Water Bearers took us to the doctor, most likely, to make sure we were free from infections.

Not long after a physician in a white suit poked and prodded me, he sent me back to purgatory with a clean bill of health. Okay, maybe not exactly purgatory. I was there to learn how to best serve my community. Astrid had told us we were to be educated about the world where we lived so we could serve.

And even if I were swimming around in purgatory, I actually enjoyed the lessons.

“The Guild have controlled Myria for the last three hundred years,” the professor in front of the class said. One third of the new Water Bearers Aspirants filled the twenty seats. The professor, a small man with a round belly, gave us a lecture while showing his presentation through the vid-screen.

Most of us should’ve learned this as part of our standard history lessons. It was pretty basic stuff about the vast island of Myria.

The teacher continued. “With the introduction of a new, organized government, we’ve seen a drastic increase in peace and prosperity. There are no more food riots or forced migrations caused by past problems of population control and hunger.”

My fingers twitched and I looked at the desk where I sat. Not a single compu-tablet. Or even the rudimentary pencil and paper. My gaze darted to the others around me. Two students slept while another played with a scab on his arm. Most faces reflected the various stages of boredom.

Not that I was surprised. I bet none of these guys, other than Zoe and myself, read real books. They’d learned their history lessons through the standard education the Guild offered, but had they read any of the forbidden books that circulated in the countryside? The books about what life had been like before the Guild ruled Myria? It wasn’t until I read the books of the past that I’d realized what the comm-consoles and the advertising on the vid-screens didn’t show us. For some reason, the Guild never wanted us to know our past history before they took over.

The world hadn’t always been like this. Before the world shrunk down to a few countries like Myria, there’d been more than I could count. It had been a planet filled with a growing population of people hungry for both the latest tech and the exploration of outer space. From what I’d read, all that changed when disease ravaged the Earth. At first, it was KB12, then the wasting disease, RF9. Plague after plague wiped out the majority of the population until only the most robust remained. My dad was part of the legacy of RF9. Without expensive medication, his lesser form of the disease ate away at lung tissue, making the sufferer weak and feeble.

“Are there any questions?” the professor asked.

“When can we go to sleep?” a voice from the back asked.

“Very funny. Perhaps you’d like to explain to your sponsor why you won’t be ready by the end of the week.” The pleasant expression on the instructor’s face vanished. “Perhaps they’ll bid on someone who’s better prepared to assist them and you’ll end up like me. You’ll spend the rest of your life working at a Training Facility or a Testing Center with no stipend other than a standard salary for working-class citizens.”

His black warning woke up even the most tired among us. To be honest, though, if they wanted us to pay attention, then why the somber room? My classroom back home had an open window and the teacher forced us to take notes. We had to interact with the teacher to receive credit. There we were on day two, and everything resembled a mishmash of lessons. The place made no sense.

“Pay attention,” the instructor said, “for someday, one of you might become a Guild member. Your education might be what saves your life.”

I woke to find my Water Bearer clothes gone. Usually, I left them in the bathroom and found them cleaned in the morning. But with no uniform to wear, I just threw on my lime green top and pants. Perhaps, they’d changed their minds about me and I could go home.

The breakfast they provided was delicious: fluffy pancakes and fried potatoes. They’d even left me a dish of fat sausages—which I refused to touch.