Vagabond (32 page)

I laughed. I’d been guilty of overanalyzing it too. That’s what the Rebels had intended outsiders to waste time doing, and it worked.
 

Claire continued. “When you meet someone, you begin with the introduction. They will say it back. Then you ask if they have more to their story? You ask this between each line of the poem you share. Rebels stay on the honor code on this, because you don’t want someone to think you have more information to share than you actually have. It’s not fruitful to the conversation or sharing of intel.”
 

I nodded. “So, what would the next line entail?”

“Every rise in rank means you hold every job below that rank. You just get more responsibility,” she said. “The first rank— the rank you’ll participate in, means you’re a teacher. You travel the Tracks, and you teach anyone willing to learn. You keep an eye out for Greenies and teach them Ways. You give all your willing to give, then you move on,” Claire explained. I thought of Celeste, and how she moved along after teaching me so much. She’d taught me that I could stand on my own two feet— that I didn’t need Xavi. “You tell others along the way what you’ve discovered. During Roll Call, you share the stories of those you’ve encountered, and you warn other Rebels of potential problems or spies. If you come across a Greenie you think may be a spy, you feed them the story about being a Stationary. It’s an automatic warning to the Rebels to be careful around them.”
 

“There’s no such things as Stationaries,
” Mari and Celeste had both tried to tell me, but I didn’t know enough to listen to what they meant.
 

Claire smiled at the realization she saw in my face. “Finally figured it out, huh? When Celeste told me about you, she said that’s what confused her. You held so tightly to the Stationary story, but you didn’t seem like a spy. It took her a while to figure out it was Xavi who was the spy, and he fed you the story someone else fed him, not knowing the implications. Comically enough, it only double punctuated his spy status when he encountered others. Celeste tried to get you away from him, but you wouldn’t leave. A few months back, the two of us met up with Annabeth, and during Roll Call, she reconfirmed that Xavi was a spy— that she was the one who fed him the story originally. Celeste sent her to try and break you guys apart.”

“Celeste had no right to do that.”
 

Claire frowned. “Honey, she saved you. Xavi may be a sympathizer, but he’s still tied to the Republic. There’s no happy ending for you there. And if, he was so wiling to leave you for another girl, is he worth getting upset over?”

I shook my head. It hurt to know she was right. Xavi broke me so easily, and there was nothing he could do or say that could right that. “How do you know he’s a sympathizer?”

“He found us about two weeks ago. Gave us legit intel. He’s a Split-Cell now.”
 

“Split-Cell?”

“It means a traitor who we aren’t sure we can trust yet. After all, he’s responsible for all those deaths last night. It was his intel that set the whole raid into motion.”
 

I nodded.
 
“But, people still taught Xavi things. Why
teach them? If you know they’re spies, why help them?”

“I thought you were a genius girl. Try to think that one out.”
 

I smiled. It sounded like something Celeste would say. I thought for a minute— chewed on it all. “You teach them so they start to see you as people.”
 

“That’s one reason. It’s harder for them to murder us when they begin to see us as human rather than abominations. They eat with us. They survive with us. Sometimes, they make love to us. It makes them start to question their own beliefs and loyalties. Even if they return to the Republic, those questions are always there. What is right versus what is law? These questions eventually trickle down and influence change… Us Vagabonds understand generational patience too.”
 

Chapter Twenty One
 

I’d always imagined what the train stations looked like when people rode the trains all the time. The space in the station I entered was so vast that it was hard to imagine it ever being full of people.
 

It was the right time to sneak in. It was slightly after lunch, when it was just empty enough to not have to wait in long lines for the vid-screens, but full enough to go somewhat unnoticed. I was terrified when a soldier sauntered up. I couldn’t see his face through the black face guard, and it reminded me of how much I hated the Militia’s uniform. With hidden faces, I never knew who I was speaking to, and I couldn’t read the expressions or gauge reactions. It made it difficult to lie.
 

 
My mind raced. We were still close to where the raid had taken place. What if he was one of the same soldiers I just escaped from? “Can I help you?” he asked. I knew he’d appraised my dusty jeans and dirty hair. I’d forgotten to clean my nails, and I gripped my fingers into a fist.
 

“Can you believe it?” I swallowed. “My mother forgot my brother was supposed to come home today. He’s in the 503rd. We were knee deep in yard work when she remembered, and sent me to meet him. You see, it’s a family tradition to never let someone come home to an empty welcome, and we forgot!” The excuse impressed even me, and it explained away the dirt and grime I carried with me.
 

“His name?”

“Chrysanthos Petras. How do you work this?”

He bent over to look, but luckily I’d already changed the vid-screen back to the home screen. The officer typed in a few things and laughed. “Looks like your mother is as absent minded as mine. The 503rd isn’t scheduled to come in for another week.”
 

I sighed. “Whew. Sometimes, she can be so out there! Thanks for the help!”

“Anytime,” he said. He leaned against the vid-screen like he wanted to open up a larger conversation. It startled me, but I ignored the gesture. I nodded, acted like a good Colony-girl, and walked away with my heart pounding.
 

“Ma’am?”
 

I froze at the question. The soldier had followed me. My heart pounded outside of my chest, and I closed my eyes for a second to center myself before I turned back in his direction.
 

“Yes?”

He sauntered up, and his black, shiny boots stood firm in front of me. “May I see your identification card?”

I gulped and held my breath. I reached into my pocket as if searching for a wallet. “Oh, no. I must have left it at home in my rush.” I prayed for the lie to work, but my gut dropped all the way to my tippy toes when I saw how he closed the gap between us. “Did I do something wrong? Did I break some law or rule?” I asked innocently with a perfect accent. I opened my eyes wide and pouted out my lips. I probably looked ridiculous.
 

“Come with me please.”
 

No.
 

No.
 

I couldn’t go with him.
 

I unhinged my knees and let him lead me by the elbow towards the exit.
 

“Where are we going?” I asked. “What did I do?” I kept playing the stupid card, but it wasn’t working.
 

He led me into the alleyway next to the station. No one was there, and a green dumpster overflowed with garbage just behind us. The smell was putrid and tangible. I tried not to breathe through my nose, not that I could breathe anyways with my lungs collapsing in fear.
 

I was smarter than this. We were too close to the raid, and I should have steered clear of the Colony.
 

Then the soldier spoke again. “I thought you were dead.”
 

“Huh?”

He reached up and clicked the button that slid his mask up.
 

“Agathon!” I gasped.
 

He grinned. I never thought much about him in the past. He was just some grand-stander, soap-box hogger, know-it-all, know-nothing in class. Now he was a solider. “You made it out?” he asked.
 

I nodded. I couldn’t read his reaction. Was he happy because he caught a Rebel or was he happy I was alive?
 

“I’m glad. I worried about you when I heard about it all,” he said. My heart retraced its steps back into my chest— I didn’t even realize it had run away. Agathon was a friend. “I’m glad you’re okay. I knew it couldn’t be true, you know. Anyone who listened to you in class would have laughed at the accusation. Genetic Terrorist. Ha. I’m more of a Genetic Terrorist than you are.”

“Agathon?”

“Surprise!”

“You’re a soldier?”

“Just enlisted two months ago.” He grinned.
 

“I don’t get it…”

“Neither did I at first. But something felt so wrong about how your parents died without even a trial, and so many other things have been going on in the debates between Petrakis and Tantalos. I wanted to learn the truth of things. I switched career tracts to get to the answers since joining the Militia is the fastest way to classified information. They’re sending me out there, you know. A year to sniff out Terrorists. Will I see you? Will you search for me?”

I broke into a grin. “You’ll learn what a Roll Call is. Call yourself Loud. Ask for a girl named Wind.”
 

Wind. It was what I planned on becoming. In a split second, I shed off my old names like a snake shed off its skin.
 

“Loud, huh? I’ll show you loud.” He pulled me into a hug that surprised me. His arms were broad and warm, and he smelled of the 19
^th
. He smelled of home. He squeezed me tight, then let me go. He lowered his mask again and backed away. “Be safe, Niko. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
 

I watched him slide back out of the alley and disappear into the station, and I couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at my cheeks. I leaned against a dirty wall in a dirty alley and breathed in the smell of freedom. Sure, it smelled like rotten garbage at the moment, but I was finally seeing how everything connected. I was finally seeing what really mattered.
 

“But there are genetic possibilities out there too. What if the G.E.G. treated those living out there as a control group, the way we do with every experiment. Compare what occurs naturally to what occurs under their thumbs?” Agathon asked.
 

Dion scoffed. “That’s bordering on treason.”

“No. It’s just meant to be another way of thinking. Do we have to be so scared of the Terrorists? Are they—“

“That’s enough,” Aeschylus intercepted the conversation and redirected.
 

But it was a good argument.
 

Agathon sat back in his desk, put his arms behind his head, and winked at me. Winked at me!

I glared back.
 
 

I walked back to our rendezvous point with an unexpected grin. The randomness of it all swam in my head. It gave me hope… hope that people were seeing Vagabonds not as a threat, but as a possibility.
 

Claire showed up ten minutes later, and I explained she had an hour before the Celebrity-transport took off. I left out the story of my near capture and my mini-heart attack, but I explained what train she needed to look for.
 

“You sure you don’t want to come see Celeste first?”

I shook my head. “She’ll understand. I want to learn to be on my own. I’ve never done it before.”
 

She laughed. “You’re brave, Niko. I’m proud of you.”
 

“Want to divide up the things in the pack since you don’t have one?”

“Naw. I have ways to get another,” she said.
 

My stomach rumbled in ways that compared to thunder. Claire handed over some food items she swiped, and I went to place them in Ono’s food pouch. I wondered if he’d be relaunched back out to the wild? How would he get another pack? Maybe they’d send him out with one to begin with this time? My fingers grazed the bottom of the pouch, and I felt something I wasn’t expecting there.
 
“What’s this?”
 

The documents.
 

I forgot about them the day Flea stole Roderigo’s bag.
 

I sucked in a breath as I pulled them out.
 

Prometheus remained stamped across the center of the square, and I unfolded the sheets as tenderly as possible.
 

“Project Prometheus,” I whispered.
 

Claire frowned. “Prometheus?”

Aeschylus laughed. “Why are these stories important to know? These myths and legends, why are they informative?”
 

Berenike groaned. “They aren’t.”

“Dion? Do you have a less angst-y answer?” Aeschylus redirected.
 

“Gods and man. They balance each other out. The Greeks humanized their gods so that they were approachable, and the legends were the boundaries for what was acceptable and civilized. They taught lessons,” Dion replied. The boy was smart. He was second in class behind me.
 

“Niko?”

“The Nurture versus Nature debate. It’s human nature to act in our own self interests. The gods helped nurture civilization by, as Dion said, setting boundaries on these self interests. These boundaries set us apart from the animals, because when we act in the interests of others over ourselves, we advance in civilization. By helping each other out and taking on rolls in society, we are able to pursue advancement in science and technology.”

“So, why is Prometheus my favorite legend?” Aeschylus asked.
 

Berenike growled. “Because he got his innards pecked out by an eagle every day?”

“Enlightening, Berenike.” Aeschylus’ words practically had an implied eye roll, and the class giggled. “Try again.”

“Because, according to legend, he gave fire to man and began the quest for knowledge and scientific advancement.” Agathon interjected.