“Everything? Even my left ear? Even my nose?”
“Especially your nose.” I touched its slightly crooked shape – the thickened bit across the bridge. “Ma used to say it’s a good thing you broke it, or else you’d be too pretty.”
“Too pretty?” Collie snorted out a laugh. “Oh, thanks, Rose.”
“Well, it does make you look kind of rugged. Masculine.”
“I’m glad you and your mother approve. Anything else I should break?”
I pretended to consider it. “No, I think you’ll do.”
Our eyes met then…and the laughter faded. From across the hall I heard Vera start up the shower. It seemed to be happening somewhere very far away.
Collie swallowed and ran his hand down my side. “You know…all those years when I was in the CS and everything seemed so hopeless…I used to dream about this happening with us. Exactly this way: you wearing my shirt, your hair all rumpled…”
My throat was tight. I couldn’t say the same thing back to him. I hadn’t dreamed about him; I’d torn him out of my life and tried to hate him.
But I never could.
“You told me last night that you’ve had two boyfriends,” Collie said quietly. “Were either of them serious?”
“No. Not emotionally.”
“That’s what I meant.” His gaze was level. “It’s been the same for me. A few girls, but no one I really cared about.” His thumb caressed my cheekbone. “No one who I couldn’t get out of my head for four years,” he added in an undertone. “Or who makes me feel like my heart’s going to explode when I see her standing across an airstrip.”
My own heart felt the same suddenly. “Me too.” My voice sounded stilted. “I wanted to get you out of my head but I couldn’t.”
“No matter how many photos you tore me out of?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“I’m glad.”
The air grew too heavy to breathe. When Collie spoke again, his voice was husky. “Do you remember the day I left? We were in the barn with your dad’s plane, and—”
“I remember it all,” I said.
His eyes looked very blue now – no hint of green. “I started to tell you something that day. I wasn’t brave enough. But now…” He touched my face. “I love you, Amity.” He gave a crooked smile. “I think I’ve loved you since I was about ten years old.”
“I know,” I whispered. I couldn’t say anything else.
There was a pause. Collie studied me with a slight smile. “Do you, um…feel the same way about me?”
I came back to myself, startled. “Yes. Collie, of course! I thought you knew that already.”
He nuzzled his face against my neck; I could tell he was grinning. “I’d still like to hear the words. If you don’t mind.”
“Now?” I said weakly.
“Amity…”
“All right.” I pulled back and took his face in my hands, cradling the warmth of his cheeks. My voice came out low, almost angry. “I love you, Collis Reed. I didn’t want to, but I do. I think I always have. There. Are you happy?”
His chin jutted out pugnaciously; his eyes were dancing. “Yeah, I am. You wanna make something of it, lady?”
I swallowed and looked down. “I’m happy too,” I admitted finally.
“I know.” His hand closed over mine; he squeezed it hard. “We’re always going to be this happy – wait and see. Your term will be over in two years and I’ll be finished the year after…then we’ll buy a little house somewhere amazing, maybe up in Puget somewhere. We’ll fly transport for a living and have a dozen kids.”
I smiled at that. “Not on our salaries.”
“Don’t be so pedantic,” he said. “We’re going to have it all, Amity Louise.”
Now that I’d started smiling I didn’t seem able to stop. “All right, we will.”
“And you know how we’re going to start?” Collie bounced to his knees and grabbed my hands. “If neither of us have night fights, I’m taking you out tonight.”
“You mean like a date?”
“Exactly like a date. Do you like dancing? Let’s go dancing!”
I was laughing now: this was the enthusiasm that had once spent a whole day building a bridge out of mud and rocks. Collie’s face was alive with happiness; I could feel it reflected deep inside me.
I touched his face again. He turned his head and kissed my hand, his lips vital and real.
“Yes, I like dancing,” I said.
Chapter Sixteen
The whirr of the projector filled the room. Kay sat silently with the others as Skinner showed a confidential film about the correction camps.
On the screen a too-thin man was being beaten by guards. The black-and-white footage had no sound. Kay winced as silent blows rained over his body. She was glad the room was dark.
Finally the man lay motionless, his eyes empty. Black blood pooled around him, stark against the snow. One arm was bent wrongly. A guard carrying a large knife approached the body.
The film shifted to a row of severed heads mounted atop a chain-link fence. They looked blackened, bruised. Frost sparkled on them.
Kay felt faint. She wondered if any had been Twelve Year astrologers. All that matters is that your head doesn’t end up there, she reminded herself fiercely.
If she didn’t get to Gunnison soon, it might. Her last ploy had failed. The one she was planning today could not.
The week before, a wary rustle had gone around the room after she’d asked about attacking the Western Seaboard. Though her pulse had been racing, Kay had met Skinner’s gaze squarely.
“‘Attack’?” Skinner’s tone had an edge. “Really, Miss Pierce. I believe you are referring to the Reclamation part of the plan.”
Kay inclined her head. “My apologies. When will the Reclamation begin?”
The photos in the “Operation Mars” file had awed her: troops, artillery, weapons. It was the first fighting force the world had seen in generations…and its troops were currently gathered only a few miles from the Western Seaboard’s border. Gunnison believed it his destiny to retake the WS and “bring Harmony” to it.
The astrologer who helped him do so would be set for life.
“Must we waste time on this?” snapped a man sitting across from Kay named Bernard Chester. He had round cheeks and wavy brown hair.
“Yes, spare us,” said a woman named Vivian wearing a large Sagittarius brooch. “We have covered this in some detail, you know, dear. It’s not our fault you’ve only been around for five minutes.”
“Order,” barked Skinner. “Miss Pierce, the Reclamation’s schedule hasn’t been announced. According to Mr Gunnison, the cards show that an unknown puzzle piece is missing from the equation. He’ll know when the time is right.”
The cards. That meant the Tarot, an ancient divination tool. Gunnison had a habit of consulting it at important junctures. From Skinner’s expression, the Chief Astrologer found this galling but was trying to hide it.
Kay hoped that whoever was watching them behind the mirror had noticed this. “Yes, I’m sure he will,” she murmured earnestly. “Mr Gunnison knows everything.”
“Indeed,” agreed Skinner with a stiff smile. “But it’s a moot point. Because it still hasn’t been settled precisely where on the Western Seaboard’s border the Reclamation will begin. And on this question…” He hesitated.
Suddenly nobody was looking at the four empty seats and Kay knew her hunch had been correct. None of the Twelve Year astrologers had managed to produce an answer that pleased the Central States leader. Those who’d failed the most flagrantly were probably dead.
Kay took a deep breath. Tell Gunnison how capable I seem, she silently urged the hidden lackey. Make him want to meet me in person.
“I can help with the location,” she said.
Vivian’s smile looked very toothy suddenly. “Oh, do say you’ll try. Please. We’d all love you to.”
“How, Miss Pierce?” said Skinner.
&n
bsp; “Dowsing,” said Kay.
The stunned silence was gratifying. “But…you can’t be…dowsing?” sputtered Bernard at last.
“No one’s taken dowsing seriously for centuries,” said Skinner coldly.
“Oh, but that’s a great mistake,” said Kay. “I’ve studied dowsing for years, and—”
Skinner’s steel-chilled gaze had cut her off. “Turn to Section 2a, please,” he said to the room at large.
That evening Kay had walked slowly down the gleaming corridor towards the stairwell. What if the mirror was only a mirror, and there wasn’t even an underling to impress? If she couldn’t reach Gunnison in person… She shook herself angrily. No. She would.
She rounded a corner and stopped short. Sandford Cain was just entering his office. Her first instinct was to duck back before he could see her. She squelched it and straightened her shoulders.
“Mr Cain!” she called as she approached him.
He glanced at her, his light blue eyes disconcertingly pale. “Yes?”
“I’m Kay Pierce, one of the Twelve Year astrologers.”
“Yes?”
He can smell fear, thought Kay wildly. She ignored her clammy hands and smiled. “I wonder if I could have a word? I have some names you might be interested in.”
Cain frowned. After a pause, he said, “Why aren’t you telling Skinner?”
“Well, I know that sometimes you take care of important cases yourself.” In her mind Kay heard again the dull thump Cain’s blackjack had made as it cracked across Mrs Lloyd’s head. She managed not to swallow. “So I thought…why trouble Mr Skinner when he’ll just go straight to you anyway?”
Sandford Cain’s near-colourless gaze studied her. Kay’s smile didn’t waver.
Finally Cain opened his door a touch wider. His signet ring gleamed; it showed the stylized crab’s claws that were the glyph for Cancer. The emblem seemed to mock Kay. Cancerians were meant to be sensitive and nurturing.
“After you, Miss Pierce,” Cain said with a pointed smile.
Now, a week later, Skinner stopped the film and flipped on the lights. On the screen, the severed heads on the fence were still faintly visible.
“As you all know, some of those destined for correction camps have escaped our country.” Skinner’s face darkened. “The Western Seaboard’s role in sheltering so many Discordants is abhorrent. When the time comes, we must ensure that they’re recaptured so that they can face justice.”
Kay kept her gaze from the heads as she added her agreeing murmur to the others. They’d been briefed on this: an upcoming Tier One Peacefight would soon give the Central States the right to extradite its fugitives from the Western Seaboard.
It was not a fight that was going to be left to chance.
A grey-haired astrologer named Francis spoke. “Are we certain that all the fugitives are Discordant? Perhaps some are just ordinary citizens who had reason to leave.”
Skinner’s eyes narrowed.
“Why do you ask, Frankie?” Plump Bernard Chester almost purred the words.
“Francis,” said the old astrologer tightly.
“Oh, but I agree with our president that nicknames keep things friendly. Feel sorry for the fugitives, do you, Frankie? Or…perhaps you have something in common with them.”
Pointedly, Bernard sketched on his notes a symbol they all recognized: the circle with the jagged line through it, the tip-off on family envelopes that someone was Discordant.
The grey-haired astrologer blanched; his gaze skittered to the mirror as if only now realizing what he’d said. “Certainly not!” he sputtered. “I’m as concerned about Harmony as anyone! I…I was only—”
Now, thought Kay, her heart beating hard.
“I don’t think we need to worry about the fugitives, Mr Skinner,” she broke in clearly. She opened her briefcase and took out charts she’d prepared the night before, angling them so that they were visible to the mirror.
“Look: I’ve cast the birth chart of Sandford Cain, who’s going to be in charge of the new extradition law. Mars in the tenth house; very auspicious.”
“We’ve already—” started Vivian.
“I’ve also done a chart for the fugitive extradition law itself,” Kay continued over her. “And here’s one showing the destiny of the Western Seaboard, where so many of the fugitives are escaping to.”
She laid down chart after chart. “You see? They’re all related. Look at Saturn in retrograde in the Western Seaboard chart. And see the Mars overtones in the other charts? In fact, if you look at this chart, where I’ve merged them all, you’ll see that the trine aspects are—”
She spoke on, dazzling them with astrological proof that the fugitives had no chance. Linking the wildly disparate charts had been tricky, but the similarities she’d come up with seemed less tenuous if you spoke with confidence.
And she could. Kay had met with Sandford Cain several times now. She felt very safe in making such a strong prediction.
“We’ve infiltrated the resistance groups,” Cain had told her, brandishing a batch of reports. “We have copies of all their lists. All. No matter what name someone’s been hiding under, no matter how safe they might feel, we will track them down.”
Then he’d smiled and rubbed the stylized claws on his ring. “And we’ll enjoy doing it.”
The fugitives’ days were numbered, all right. Soon their heads would be joining those shown on the screen.
Now the room’s silence was of the awed variety. Skinner craned to see Kay’s charts. She obligingly slid copies across the table, resisting the urge to glance at the mirrored wall.
As Skinner studied her work, he began to smile. The other astrologers eyed her warily.
After the meeting, Skinner stopped Kay in the hallway. “Most impressive, Miss Pierce.” His sallow face was practically beaming. “I’ll show your work to Mr Gunnison.”
“Thank you, sir.” Kay’s smile was humble. “And please…tell him that I can help find the best location for the troops, too.”
At the next meeting, the grey-haired astrologer’s chair was empty. No one ever mentioned him again.
Chapter Seventeen
“I’m sorry that there isn’t more,” said my mother. She scraped the spoon fretfully around the almost empty bowl and shook another bite of mashed potatoes onto Collie’s plate. “It’s so hard to get what you want in the stores now – and if I’d only known you were coming…”
“Don’t worry, there’s plenty,” Collie told her. “This is delicious, Rose.”
We were sitting in Ma’s cramped dining area: a corner of the living room with a table that folded out. I gazed at the mashed potatoes. If it was harder to get things in the stores now, it was my fault. The loss of our oil rights had hit the Western Seaboard even harder than I’d feared.
I shoved the thought away. I wouldn’t let it ruin tonight. “We wanted to surprise you,” I told Ma.
“Well, you certainly did that.”
“It was Collie’s idea,” I added gravely. He gave me a sidelong, amused look: that had been my refrain when we were growing up, to soften Ma’s reaction to our escapades.
She probably didn’t need softening this time. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d opened her front door and seen us. She’d hugged Collie for the longest time, beaming through her tears. Collie hadn’t looked completely dry-eyed himself.
“Well, I still don’t understand,” Hal said to Collie now, his voice flat. “Why couldn’t you write once you left?”
Collie took another bite. “Like I said, I was angry – confused, I guess,” he replied after a pause. “Dad had told me that I couldn’t write to anyone back home; he wanted to make a fresh start. So I just…didn’t. By the time I realized what a stupid mistake I’d made, so much time had passed that I thought you’d all hate me and I stayed quiet. I’m sorry,” he added, talking directly to Ma now. “You all deserved better than that from me.”
His eyes and voice were serious. I knew how muc
h he meant the apology, even if the rest was untrue. We’d agreed not to tell them that Collie had been in the Central States. It could be dangerous for him if too many people found out.
Hal scowled down at his plate. “It’s Amity you should apologize to,” he muttered.
“He has, Hal. It’s okay,” I said, touched despite myself at my little brother sticking up for me.
Collie leaned his arms on the table. “No, you’re right,” he said to Hal. “I’m just lucky that your sister’s forgiven me.” Our eyes met, and my heart tightened a little. His expression turned questioning.
Ma, we’ve got something to tell you. The words stayed poised on my lips, refusing to come out. I hadn’t mentioned about Collie and me in my letters home, though we’d been together for over a month. It just seemed too momentous, though really I guess it was very simple: we’re in love. In person was no better. I thought of the fuss Ma would make when she knew and part of me turned ten years old again and wanted to slither down in my seat.
Collie’s gaze became wryly amused; he knew exactly what I was thinking. I sighed and cleared my throat. “Ma, listen…”
She didn’t hear me. “Tell us about being a Peacefighter,” she said brightly to Collie. “You’re Tier Three, aren’t you?”
“No, Tier Two,” said Collie after a beat.
“Oh, Collis!” exclaimed Ma, pressing a hand to her chest.
“You are?” said Hal at the same time. The sullen look that had been on his face since he’d seen Collie faded a little.
I nodded. “He was promoted just last week.” My gaze met Collie’s; the knowing look in his eyes was like being in his arms, warm in bed. I smiled. “He’s pretty good.”
It still amazed me that the Collis I’d grown up with had become this lean, broad-shouldered man whose changeable eyes knew me so well. For the last month, either Collie had stayed over at my place or I’d stayed at his. One night we’d gone skinny-dipping in the ocean; the tide was coming in and our clothes on the beach got drenched – the ones that didn’t wash away.
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