by Kelli Kimble
“She’s a whole lot more fun than you are,” he said.
Below her hair-curtain, Helen stifled a burst of laughter.
Willow rolled her eyes. “I know it seems like she’s all business,” Willow said. “This girl is just as fun as the next.”
“Are you done?” I asked. “If we leave now, we could have a meeting tonight, and you could be back by lunch tomorrow.”
“Hm. Maybe I’m wrong, Oliver. Maybe the village knocked all the fun out of her,” she said.
I frowned. “Willow . . .”
“I’m kidding. Just kidding. Can I pack a bag? Come to my apartment pod real quick. It won’t take long.”
At her apartment, Willow stuffed a change of clothes and some toiletries into a bag. Oliver and Helen perched on the couch, staring at their surroundings. It reminded me of how overwhelmed I’d been when I’d first come to Willow’s apartment, and she’d done my nails for me.
“All set. Let’s go,” said Willow.
◆◆◆
We arrived at the village in time for dinner. I dismissed Oliver and Helen. They ran from the stables as if their feet were on fire. Oliver was likely bursting to boast to his friends about having seen the mountain. Helen’s hurry was probably more escape-driven.
I took Willow to the kitchen hall, and we sat at an empty table to eat. She picked at the food. When I asked her if something was wrong, she laughed.
“No. The food just tastes so much stronger than I’m used to. It kind of fills you up on taste.”
Curious villagers were lingering around the edges of the hall.
“You won’t find any spiro here,” I said. “You’ve got an audience, though, so eat up.”
Charity came and sat with us. I introduced her.
“Willow will be speaking tonight at meeting. Can you circulate the word?” I asked.
“Of course,” said Charity. “People will be glad to see a doctor came to speak.”
“I’m not a doctor,” Willow said.
Charity stilled. “Then, what are you? You can speak about the science behind the illness, right?”
“Yes, I can do that. Though, I’m more of a biologist than a doctor.”
“The doctors were busy caring for the colonists with the illness,” I said. “Luckily, Willow has a working knowledge, and she can stand in.”
Charity didn’t look convinced. “All right. I suppose it’s understandable that they can’t spare doctors right now.”
After dinner, I showed Willow to an empty house, where she could spend the night. Then, we made our way to the pavilion. Already, people were milling around.
“Wow,” said Willow. “I didn’t realize so many people lived here.”
“The village has a population of 412,“ I said.
“Leo asked for people to come and live here, right? The people who aren’t sick?”
“Yes,” I said.
“You understand that would more than double your population?”
“Well, I don’t know exact numbers. I fail to see how the number of people who need help should impact whether we offer it or not.”
“Fiona. How will you house a doubled population? Put that aside and think about how you would even begin to feed them. Surely, you don’t have unlimited resources.”
“The mountain has resources. How do you feed the people you have? That won’t go away.”
“No, it will. When the people who don’t leave die out, there won’t be anyone to grow the spiro. And our external food resources have always been limited.”
I tried to find a reason to refute what she’d said. But, I couldn’t. Was she telling me that I had no choice but to refuse them? If the colonists came, and we ran out of food, the other village would help for a time. I knew my mother would never let us—or the colony—impinge on the success of her own people. They would slaughter us all in our sleep to stay alive.
The pavilion seethed with people, and I fought the urge to turn away. I’d been stupid and naïve. Our village couldn’t help the mountain colony. We would all die. Wouldn’t it be better if we let the mountain die off and kept our own people safe and alive?
I snapped from my imaginings when Charity came to my elbow. “They’re ready for you,” she said into my ear. “I think you’d better start.”
I went to the front and raised my hands. The room quieted. “Thank you for coming tonight. I’d like to introduce Willow. She’s a scientist from the mountain colony. She has spent a lot of time studying the disease, and she is here to answer the questions that you have. We’ll proceed as we did last night. Each person will have the opportunity to ask one question.” I pointed to the back left corner of the room and sat.
This time, Helen’s mother was sitting there. “My question is for Fiona. Why did you take my little girl into that place? She’s terrified that she’s going to die.”
Every head in the pavilion whipped around to stare at me.
“I—” I began.
“I know it must have been scary for her,” said Willow, cutting me off. “I assure you, Ma’am; your daughter is not going to die. The illness is not communicable, except in the sense that contracting it is done within the mountain.”
“She took her there! My baby was in the mountain!”
The mood of the crowd swayed from curious to hostile.
Davenport stood up. “Now, everybody, just calm down. There’s no need to get upset. We’ve been assured by multiple people that the illness isn’t catching.”
“Who? Who are these multiple people? Anybody we can trust?” asked someone in the crowd.
“This isn’t the first time there has been an illness in the mountain,” I said. “And I don’t think I need to remind you that all of us—every last one of us—has descended from the mountain. The queen’s village was established the last time this illness took hold. I confirmed it with her in person the day after President Leo asked me for help.”
“Did you know that?” someone asked Willow.
“Actually, no,” she said. “I was not aware that there had been a previous outbreak. That had to have been over a century ago.”
“How is this woman qualified to tell us anything? She doesn’t even know the history of the disease,” Helen’s mother said.
“A lack of historic knowledge does not discount the science she knows,” I said. “And she’s the most educated person on the subject we’re going to get. So many people are sick in the colony that they can’t spare a doctor to come here and hold our hands. We’ve got to learn what we can from Willow and decide where to go from there.”
“Well, I think this is irresponsible. And she’s only making it worse. Taking our children into the mountain without even asking our permission!”
Davenport scowled. “I understand that you’re upset. But, this isn’t the place. You can take your argument up with Fiona later. Moving on. Next question.”
The conversation buzzed in my head. I wanted to put my hands over my ears and just block it all out. I’d thought it was the right thing to do, bringing the colonists here. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe bringing them here would doom us all. Even so, wouldn’t ignoring their need be a departure from our own humanity?
Eventually, I pushed down my thoughts and focused on what Willow said enough to learn that she believed that the mountain itself was making people sick. And that was why the illness struck mostly older members of the colony, and not young people. She felt that, if they’d only move outside, the illness would stop spreading.
The questions slowed, and finally stopped. Willow looked weary. Charity must have noticed that I was lost in a fog, because she ended the meeting and sent everyone home.
Davenport, Charity, Willow, and I were leaving the pavilion when Davenport asked the question on my mind. “If you think that you only have to leave the mountain to save yourself, why do you still live there?” he asked Willow.
“It’s all I know,” she said. “Letting go of your home isn’t easy.”
“Surely, your
will to live overrides sentimentality,” said Charity.
“I suppose. Our population has dropped sharply. The people who are left are working hard to keep things moving smoothly. I’m afraid that will soon fall apart.” She turned to me. “I wonder how you’d feel if I didn’t return to the mountain,” she said.
“You mean, stay here?”
“I don’t know.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “It seems like a nice place.”
“Willow, you were just brutally questioned by the people living here. You’d feel welcome?”
“I feel safer here than I do there. That’s something, isn’t it?”
My stomach flip-flopped. Even though we’d just been questioning her desire to stay in the mountain, I couldn’t let Willow live in the village indefinitely.
Charity and Port waited in silence for my reply.
“Why don’t you sleep on it?” I said. “There’s no rush to decide.”
“Maybe you’re right,” she said.
“It’s a big decision to just leave. You haven’t even said goodbye to anyone. What about your family?”
“My husband died some time ago—not from the mountain illness, from cancer. My mother and her husband just fell ill, each within a day of the other. I really don’t want to be responsible for their final arrangements.”
“I’m so sorry, Willow. I didn’t realize.”
“You don’t have any children?” asked Charity.
“No. We didn’t like the idea of the tanks. Fiona can relate, I’m sure.”
I flinched. “Why don’t you think about it overnight, just the same? It’s a big decision to leave your lifelong home,” I said.
We arrived at Willow’s temporary house, and I walked her to the door.
“If you need anything, I live right across the way,” said Charity. She pointed to her own house, two doors up and across the path. “I think you’ll find everything you need.”
Willow smiled. “A night without electricity, plumbing, and filtered air. This is going to be great.”
I hugged her and said goodnight. We continued homeward, with Charity breaking off at her house.
When we were alone, Davenport let loose. “You can’t let her stay here,” he said. “If you allow her, then you have to let in anyone who comes. And the village hasn’t decided yet.”
“I know. I know! I just didn’t know what to say. She’s faced so much death, and she’s on her own. Plus, she actually disposes of the dead. I can’t imagine how lonely she must be.”
“I understand that she’s your friend, and you don’t want to disappoint her,” he said. “You have to be honest with her. You can’t let her believe that she can just come here because she wants to. Promise me you’ll explain it to her tomorrow.”
“Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? That we won’t take her in? We fled our own home at night and established this place in the name of freedom. Can’t she be free here, too?”
Davenport sighed. “I get it, Fiona. Really, I do. Your stunt today with Helen and Oliver already has you on shaky ground. You’ve got to let the village decide.”
“All right. Okay. I’ll tell her tomorrow. I promise.”
Chapter 5
Willow evaded me until the following afternoon. I finally caught up to her when I went in search of Oliver’s mother. She was standing on a path at the point where it turned from gravel to dirt, as it led out to one of the farming fields. The field was planted with oats, and the stalks were still green. In the breeze, they swayed in random, swirling patterns.
“There you are,” I said coming up alongside her.
“Hi,” she said.
“Look, I have to tell you something.”
“I know. I can’t stay,” she said.
I nodded. “I’m sorry. I want you to stay. I have to let the village decide. It isn’t up to me.”
“I understand. It isn’t your fault.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I said.
“There isn’t anything to say. When the decision is made, hopefully I can come back.” She stepped between two rows and snapped off a stalk of oats. “Remember when I said that I didn’t have any children?”
“Yes,” I said.
“We tried but couldn’t conceive. Our only alternative was the tanks. Leo—when you left, Leo started a new program with the tanks. Instead of delivering babies, they kept them in the tanks until they were toddlers. Then, they discovered some kind of growth serum, and they were able to grow children to ten years of age in just three years.
“He kept pushing and pushing. Now, they can grow a twenty-year-old adult in the tank in just under five years. And he had them develop an educational system, so they come out of the tanks fully-educated. They could extract people from the tanks in three years. And in six months more, they could have them in the colony as fully-functioning members.”
“That’s appalling,” I said.
“I know. Nobody would go against what Leo wanted. They just bowed to his will. I never did understand that. He isn’t irresistible.” She nudged me. “You demonstrated that to be true.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“When the illness started, and people started being afraid . . . that’s when the tide finally turned away from him. That’s when he lost control. So, even though I think it means the end of the colony, I think it was a good thing. Because if those who survive come out here and live, there won’t be any more tanks. The environment out here is too harsh and unpredictable for them.”
“That’s something to be grateful for,” I said.
“It is something,” she said.
◆◆◆
Charity called a meeting for the evening. I was dreading it. It would either be a vote, or the whole thing would devolve into yet another debate. My stomach turned over just thinking about it. But, Willow left, and the rest of the afternoon passed quickly. Eventually, I couldn’t procrastinate going to the meeting anymore.
I took my seat. The mood of the crowd was hard to read. Nobody had spoken to me as I entered, and few people would look me in the eyes. Despite that, there were smiles and laughter.
After most everyone had taken their seats, Charity called the meeting to order. “Today’s order of business is simple. We’re going to vote on whether we are ready to decide about the mountain colony. Depending on the result, we’ll determine how to proceed from there. Are there any questions?”
Silence. I crossed my legs and tried not to clench my teeth. I wanted to say that I’d made a mistake. I needed to keep everyone safe. Something held me back, though. My mouth wouldn’t open, and before I knew it, Charity was calling for the first vote. I watched as nearly every hand was raised when she called for agreement to move forward with the vote.
“All right,” she said. “Moving on. We’ve agreed to vote on the issue of whether we’ll assist the mountain colony with food and lodging, until they can better provide for themselves. All those in favor?”
Dread washed over me as hands waved in the air. Charity counted, and then called for nays.
“The vote passes by a margin of 20 votes,” Charity announced. “Fiona will proceed with communications to the mountain.”
A dribble of sweat emerged from my hairline and ran down the side of my cheek. I nodded, as if the vote had turned out well. Charity adjourned the meeting, and a few people came up to congratulate me and shake my hand. I don’t even know who they were; everything was blurring out.
Davenport appeared at my elbow and began steering me towards the night air. “Fiona has a busy day ahead of her tomorrow; I’m sure you understand,” he said to someone as he moved me away from them in mid-sentence.
I started to tune back into the world when a cool breeze chilled the sweat in my hair. I shivered, and Davenport pulled me closer. I could tell by his tense gait that he wasn’t thrilled with the voting result.
He didn’t speak until we were inside our house with the door closed. “What’s the matter, Fiona?”
&
nbsp; I sank onto the bed and swept the remnants sweat on my face into my hairline. “I think this might be a mistake,” I said.
He lit the lamp hanging from the ceiling. “Fiona, how could you not say anything?”
“It’s just a gut feeling. It has no basis in fact. How can I direct events with a gut feeling?”
“These people—including me—have been following your gut for decades now.”
“That isn’t enough, Port. I can’t just decide the fate of hundreds of people because something inside me says not to. We have to do the hard stuff. Don’t we?”
He slid his hands into his pockets and looked out the window. The view was distorted by the wavy imperfections of the glass, and the light reflected his own distorted image back to him. “I suppose so,” he finally said.
“In the morning, I’m going back to the mountain, and I’m telling them the decision. We’ll see what happens from there, right?”
“Okay.” He frowned. “I’ll go with you. No kids this time.”
“I’d like that,” I said. I had no intention of stirring up trouble with Helen’s mother again.
He went about his nightly routine, and I fell into mine. Davenport doused the lamp, and we slid into bed at the same time, each on our own side. He quickly fell asleep, his breath huffing in a regular rhythm. I could only lie on my back, staring above me at the darkness. I couldn’t shake the feeling that a mistake had been made. I hoped I’d have the chance to correct it.
Chapter 6
Davenport and I could see the mountain colony gates in the distance, beyond the meadow. He let out a low whistle. “I didn’t think it would seem so big,” he said.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
There was a guard standing outside the gate, a weapon hung casually over his shoulder. He watched us as we approached. Every minute or two, he put something in his mouth, chewed in an exaggerated way, then spat something onto the ground.
“I see they have good manners,” Davenport said.
“Don’t,” I said. “He’ll hear you.”
“And what better way to get out of this? If he turns us away, we can wash our hands of the whole mess.”
