Vagabond (26 page)

“I can’t give you what you want.”
 

Ono tugged at my pack so that I stopped. The red light sent hues down every needle on the pines in front of us. “You don’t know that. We haven’t even tried.”
 

“I don’t need to try. Your father had my parents—“

“—murdered. I know. I’ll never forgive him for taking you from me.”
 

“You talk as if you can still have me, but you don’t even know me.”

He took a few steps so that he stood beside me rather than behind. “You’d be surprised by what I know about you now. Maybe you could have claimed that a few weeks ago, but I know you. You know me… and we owe it to our lines to try.”
 

I blushed. It was a blush that hurt, because he did know me in ways no one else knew me.
 
“Niko. I get it. You love him— the boy who left. But. I. Am. Here.” He reached up and tugged the headlamp off my forehead. The red box moved with his hand as he clicked it off. “Look at all the darkness around you. Can you honestly say you want to walk through it all alone? Especially when you don’t have to? I’m not a bad consolation prize if you give me the chance.”
 

I could only see in waves of black. He had my light, and I wanted it back. I grasped out to find it, and my hand met his. Instead of letting me take the headlamp back, he laced his fingers into mine. He brought our hands to my face, and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. “I’m not saying we have to go crazy. Let’s stick together. Get to know each other better? Does that sound fair?”
   

When the sound came, it came fast. A crash. A smash. A broken, splintered door. Daddy shouted. Mama screeched. The gunshots that followed silenced them both.
 

I stood at the backdoor as soldiers in shiny black invaded our small home, and instead of freezing at the guns pointing my way, I ran. I didn’t look back. I ran and ran and ran in the dark until the trees became woods and woods became forests and I was lost in the middle of nothing and everything.

The raid started on the rails. The screech of the train halting sounded like an owl dying, and a cacophony of gunshots ricochetted off the trees. I yanked my hand out of Ono’s, reclaimed the headlamp, and turned it on. We needed to move fast. We were still too close to the tracks. What if the Rebels failed in what they were doing? What if soldiers combed these woods sooner rather than later?
 

I moved into a jog as much as my limitations allowed me. Tree roots, jagged rocks, and fallen branches littered the way. Ono didn’t let go of my pack, so when I stumbled on rocks I didn’t see in the inadequate light, he stumbled too, and when I fell down the ditch I didn’t see in time, he fell too.
 

Chapter Seventeen

Xavi’s calluses were their own countries. Each one had different stories layered on top of each other— histories upon histories of a life on the Tracks. I laid against him and traced the lines on his hands. They were haphazard roads, and traveling them with my fingertips felt like a new adventure each time.
 

“Tell me about home,” he said. Where the hot of his breath met the emptiness of my ears, I felt a shiver. The dark was big around us, and it was my turn to sleep. I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes just yet. I wanted to stay awake and feel his chest rise and fall against my back.
 

“Home?”
 

“Yeah. Home. Did you have any pets?”

“No. We weren’t in the right Caste for pets. Just one too low, actually.” It was something that always saddened me. “I had a few friends in the Caste above. My friend, Berenike, got a puppy for her birthday, and I was so jealous. I’d always wanted one. In fact, when I found out I was moving up Castes, I was more excited about getting a dog than a husband.”
 

Xavi laughed.
 

“What do you know about Castes?”
 

“Enough. They have something to do with genetic pools.”

“Yup. Did you ever notice how the Colonies are just a hundred or so petri-dishes. Except instead of growing molds or bacterias, we’re growing genes.”
 

“Was it hard to give up choosing a partner?”
 

“How’d you know I—“

“You seem like a stoic girl. Republic before self.”
 

“Did you know that most people have a choice? They can choose anyone they want.”

“Not if they want to have kids.”
 

“True, but it happens. If you loved someone enough, you could agree to sterilization and possibly adopt. You could also request the Five from the G.E.G. They give you five possibilities and you choose your favorite option.”
 

“But I’ve heard that reduces your chances of increasing your Caste,” Xavi reminded me. “You know the choice is an illusion, right? How many people do you know who choose sterilization or the Five anymore? Especially when they are taxed exorbitantly for it and become social pariahs if they do? The G.E.G. has worked hard to make completely trusting their judgement fashionable.”
 

That was something I’d thought of too, but I wouldn’t admit it. Not to Xavi. Castes were like labels on the petri dishes. The highest Castes were usually concentrated in specific Colonies until their genes were needed elsewhere to create genetic competition. That’s when transfers happened and why Castes of all levels existed in every Colony. In terms of trusting your own judgement on a partner, it’d be stupid not to do everything you could to enhance your genetic line, and therefore Caste. The G.E.G. gave people their best chances of moving up.
 

Xavi continued. “Think about this. From what I understand, every generation has the potential to move an entire family up a Caste. If you partner correctly and trust in the geneticist, they will give you the most viable option of moving up through your children. That’s why people stopped choosing their partners, but it’s a scam. It’s too slow of a climb. The Republic does this for a reason. When people are made to the feel inferior, they begin to believe it, but this only works if there’s a balance. The Republic and the G.E.G. give just enough hope to Citizens that they can work hard enough to better themselves, and by controlling the rules for hope, they maintain all the power. Why do you think they parade Celebrities around? People need something tangible to work towards, or they direct their attention to less preferable things. People would spend all the energy they previously used to prove themselves to the Republic in order to do the opposite— destroy it.”
 

I’d considered this before, but Xavi was still missing the bigger picture. “True. I see your point, but Castes are the parameters of Nurturing. They provide direction and guidelines to grow into your genetic potential. That’s why every Caste is so different in their sacrifices, policies, and traditions. You say that trusting in the G.E.G. takes away choices, but why risk destroying your genetic line? That goes beyond Castes and material rewards. You’re wrong. We have a choice. We choose to trust ourselves or trust the Republic.”

“But this system can’t last. All civilizations fall. We used people in power as much as they use us, but then we get tired of them. We start to see them for what they are, we tear them down, then we give the power to someone else, and the cycle starts over again. One day we won’t need the G.E.G. One day we won’t need the Republic. They know this, and they fear this. Why do you think they hunt down Vagabonds— Terrorists so readily? They want to generate mass-fear of the Terrorists so the Citizens don’t spend their fears on the G.E.G. or the Republic. It’s a very effective control mechanism.” His chin moved on top of my head as he spoke, and I wrapped my arms around myself a bit more tightly. “It has nothing to do with trust and everything to do with control. You choose to let people control you.”
 

I shivered, and he wrapped his arms around me tighter. “Sometimes control is needed,” I said. “Otherwise chaos happens. And don’t think I haven’t had these same debates with myself. What does the G.E.G. truly know, after all? I wanted to distrust them because I was flagged. Flagged! I wanted them to be wrong.”
 

“But you were paired.”
 

“Yes. And I was moving up eight Castes, but my entire life I thought I was a genetic dead end. I didn’t realize they had something planned for me, but what if I was a genetic dead end? Should I have searched for a way to discredit the G.E.G.? That would have been selfish.”

“If you hadn’t been flagged, which would you have gone for. The choice or the faith?”
 

I wondered where he heard that question phrased just like that. It was a Republic phrase whispered by kids at school.
 

Xavi laughed at my pause. “It’s okay. No one choses the choice anymore. Do you know why they keep it an option? Citizens need the illusion of choice. If they officially take it away, it’d cause immediate rebellion. Instead, they make the concept of choice seem as dirty as any disease we are fighting against.” He sighed and changed directions with his questioning. “Were you scared about transferring Colonies?”
 

“Not exactly— a little maybe. But we had a few transfers in the 18
^th
, and I knew it wouldn’t be horrible. The last one happened a few years ago. A girl named Aspasia. She was so beautiful compared to everyone else, and everyone treated her like a princess. I didn’t expect to be treated as well as her, given the Caste I was born to, but I did know my life wasn’t going to be horrible.”
 

“Aspasia?”
 

“Yeah. What an overdone name, right? But she gave me hope.”
 

“Was she happy?” He asked. “As an 18.”

“I think she was. I didn’t get to know her very well, but she showed me what my life would have been like, had my parents not been—“
 

But I couldn’t finish the thought. I was too caught up in loss to say anything else. His breathing moved up and down faster than before, and it touched me that he was so upset over what had happened to me. I tried to see my story through his eyes. It was hard to explain the Colonies to kids who grew up on the Tracks. They can’t understand it until they tried to live it. As strange as our system was, it was bigger than me, but Track-kids rarely knew of anything bigger than themselves. Focusing on survival rarely leaves room to think beyond basic needs, let alone the good of Humanity.
 

On the Tracks, I was torn between our system and my freedom. Here, I was wind. My genes were not important. Not even I was important. It was just me, a girl falling in love, regardless of genetic markers or right and wrong.

The voice sang, but it felt distant. It was a haphazard lullaby about a star and a frog. As a kid I never knew what it meant, but I never needed to since the way the words moved up and down always soothed me when I was feeling bad or sick. I wondered if someone sang it to Ono as a kid? His voice was sultry and clear, and I just wanted to lay there and listen. However, something reminded me I needed to open my eyes. I pried them apart and a purple-hued light filtered through the pines. I tried to sit up, but there was a throbbing in my head that weighed it down.

“Shhh. Knucs. It’s okay. You hit your head pretty hard when we fell,” he said. Ono sat against a tree and kept my head in his lap so that I had a more comfortable pillow. His fingers pushed back strands of hair from my face, and next to us was his t-shirt and sweater wadded up in a bloody pile. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Head wounds always bleed more. I stanched it. Funny. I thought your head was harder than that?”
 

“Har. Har.” I grumbled.
 

He reached the hose from his water bladder so that it was in my teeth, and I sucked in some water, letting the freshness of it trickle down my throat.
 

“What time is it?” I asked. Something was off. The sky wasn’t completely bright yet, and we were in the middle of those predawn moments where objects looked bluer than normal. Wherever we were, I was sure we weren’t far enough from all the action of last night.
 

“It’s okay. The sun just started to come up.”
 

I inhaled and tried to push myself up again. I succeeded this time, but my head pulsed. “I have to go.”

Ono frowned. “You need to rest.”

“Did you forget? If they aren’t already out here, they’re on their way.” I used the tree to prop myself up, but my head exploded into a million fireworks behind my eyes. I rubbed my eyelids with my fists, but the dizzy was still there. “Remember, the Rebels robbed that Military
 
Transport last night, and we are still too close to the scene of the crime.” I grabbed my pack, but my vision blurred and wavered. I couldn’t run just yet, but I needed to.
 

Ono stood up to help steady me, and his hand rested on my elbow. “I know. You need to rest. If they come, I’m still undercover. I can think of something.” The poor boy just didn’t know he had a stupid plan. He’d be safe, alright. But me? I pulled the pack on, and shuddered under the weight. I didn’t have any more time to waste.
 

A wail came from the distance, and sharp howls layered on top of each other.
 

“How long have have they been searching?” I whispered.
 

He shook his head. “I started hearing the dogs about fifteen minutes ago. We’re fine.”

My laugh cluttered up my lungs. “We’re everything but fine. We’re screwed. I need to go. Now,” I said, not only to Ono, but to myself, as if saying it out loud would turn my need into reality.
 

He helped me stumble along, but he kept trying to convince me that we should just wait. “Like yesterday, Niko. We can make them stop. You can hide.”