The Neptune Project

by Polly Holyoke

I sigh. Dolphins don’t care about appearances, nor do they know how to apologize. But they do have a wicked sense of humor, and I can feel Laki’s and Sokya’s joy over the prank they have played on me.

  There’s no time for me to go wash up and change. Now I face being salty and sticky throughout the long trip inland. At least I’ll be cooler while I walk.

  :No squid for you later,: I think at Sokya.

  :we can find our own squid,: she replies, sounding very pleased with herself.

  “We have to go now, Robry,” I say. His mother, Alicia, is waiting for us at the end of the dolphin dock. She’s always been surprisingly patient about Robry’s fascination with the dolphins.

  My mother joins us as we leave the dock and merge into the stream of people heading inland to hear this new edict from the Western Collective. Alicia walks along beside her. Neither Robry nor I speak much as we trudge along the dusty road. I’m sweating and my lungs feel hot and itchy by the time we reach the farmers’ town. Santero consists of rows of flimsy government houses that are all beige, squat, and ugly. Beyond Santero, the empty fields stretch for dozens of miles, this year’s corn crop already withered to dead stalks beneath the relentless sun.

  I shiver, despite the heat, when I see the first of hundreds of soldiers standing along the road, wearing body armor and carrying solar rifles. Gillian and I exchange grim looks.

  Cam leaves his friends and deliberately walks between Robry and me and the soldiers. Even though he’s only fifteen, Cam looks formidable. I would feel safer, except that I can see the resentment burning in his dark eyes. I think he has too much sense to do something stupid, but what if he doesn’t? My stomach twists tighter.

  When we reach the center of the town, the adults and youths like Cam who no longer attend school continue on to the large community hall. My mother sends me a reassuring smile. I must look terrified, because Cam says, “It will be all right,” even though we both know it may not be. “Wait for me afterward.”

  Then he goes on with Gillian. I force myself to follow Robry into our school. Inside, he and I are separated when they herd us straight into our classrooms.

  At least today I don’t have much time to think about how miserable I feel at school. I’ve always been too shy to talk to the town girls, and usually they ignore me just like the fisher girls do. Mostly I try to be invisible, and I’ve gotten good at it.

  As I slip into my classroom, I can’t help glancing around for Lena. I hear a trill of laughter, and then I see her. As usual, she’s flirting with Thisen and Rom, the two most popular boys in our year.

  “Rom, that’s just such a horrible thing to say to me.” Her laugh rings out again on a day few of us can find anything to laugh about.

  She doesn’t even look at me while I walk past her and quietly take a seat in the back. Being ignored by Lena still hurts. She used to be my only other friend besides Robry and Cam. Like me, Lena has parents who went to university. Like me, she’s always had weak lungs and had to wear dark glasses. She used to come swim with the dolphins and me all the time, and then the summer we both turned ten, she suddenly just stopped being my friend.

  I watch Lena toss her long, dark, curly hair and open her brown eyes wide as she gazes at Thisen. She hardly squints at all here in the brightly lit classroom. I wonder if she’s wearing protective contact lenses. They are horribly expensive, but then again, her parents had the money to buy her a pair of dark glasses on the black market, which make her look like an old-time movie star.

  At last our teacher, Mr. Casey, hurries in carrying a clipboard. His face is shiny with sweat, and he looks worried. I feel sorry for him. Unlike many of the teachers at our school, he truly cares about his students. He loves literature more than anything, and he was thrilled that I liked the few novels he’d been allowed to assign us.

  Mr. Casey clears his throat. That’s all he has to do today to get thirty of us to quiet down and quickly find our seats.

  “We are honored that Deputy Minister Torpel of the Department of Population Allocation for our southern sector is here today. He has come to personally deliver a special announcement that affects us all.”

  The classroom falls silent as the deputy minister enters our room and strides to the front. There, he turns to survey us. I tremble when I realize how cold and dead his eyes look. In the back of my mind, I try to figure out where I’ve seen eyes that cold before.

  “The Department of Agriculture,” the deputy minister says in a curt, crisp tone, “has determined that the crop yields here in Santero have been below average for five years now.”

  Someone dares to snicker at that. We all know that in this case, “below average” is “nonexistent” in government-speak. The deputy’s expression tightens. “I’m surprised you young people find that amusing. I can assure you that your government does not.” He stares at each of us so intently I sink lower in my chair.

  “The Department of Border Defense is likewise concerned about the rampant smuggling that continues to flourish in this region,” he continues at last, “despite the Marine Guard’s dedicated efforts to eradicate it. Citizens of the Western Collective are to share their resources, not hoard them or use them to buy luxuries, especially during times of hardship. Smugglers cater to the selfish, privileged few, and we are determined to stop them once and for all.”

  Everyone in my classroom knows that members of the government are the privileged few most apt to buy goods from the smugglers, but no one dares to point out that fact to Deputy Minister Torpel.

  “We believe the fisher folk of Goleta continue to aid and abet these smugglers. Therefore, the Ministers of Agriculture, Population Allocation, and Border Defense have decided it’s time to move the people of Santero and Goleta to various communities farther inland, where their efforts will help boost food production for our entire nation.”

  I struggle to understand his government-speak, and then his meaning slams into me like a killer wave. Minister Torpel is here to make the fishermen abandon their boats and move inland. That means my mother and I are going to have to move away from the sea, and from our dolphins.

  I DIG MY FINGERNAILS hard into my thighs, trying to hold back the cry of protest building in my throat. My classmates aren’t so careful. Angry murmurs rise all around me.

  The murmurs cease as the deputy minister raises his hand and coldly surveys us once again. Suddenly I realize where I’ve seen eyes like his before. The big sharks, like makos and great whites, have cold, dead eyes just like the minister’s.

  “We are giving your parents two days to pack and prepare to leave. I suggest that you young people do everything you can to help them.” He goes on to talk in a more friendly tone about what wonderful places we may get to live, but his shark eyes are anything but friendly.

  Several girls start crying noisily the moment he leaves our classroom. Mr. Casey dismisses us in a choked voice. He wishes us good luck as we file by him, but he tugs at my sleeve to halt me.

  “Nere, I hope you keep up with your reading,” he says urgently.

  “I’ll try,” I mumble. As much as I’ve loved his books, reading about tormented people hundreds of years ago just doesn’t seem that important to me right now. There’s plenty of torment in my present.

  Walking out of our school, I can’t slow the torrent of questions rushing through my head: how can I possibly leave Mariah, Sokya, Densil, and Tisi? How can I live away from the sea? My lungs are always so much worse in the dry air inland. What if lung meds are as scarce there as they are here? This government plan could kill me.

  Cam is waiting for me in the street, a pale Robry already at his side. Cam’s face is cool and guarded, but I can tell he’s furious. I want to cry on his shoulder, but I don’t want to embarrass him.

  “Your mother’s already headed back,” he tells me. “Wait here. I have to talk to someone.”

  I gaze after him, stunned that Gillian has already left. My whole life is falling apart, and she can’t stay away from her work?


  I feel even worse when I see Cam walk straight up to Lena. She brightens at his approach and starts to turn up her flirty act. But whatever he is saying quickly wipes the bright smile from her face. She looks over at me and scowls. He seems to be urging her to do something, but she shakes her head vehemently and dashes off.

  His face tighter than ever, Cam doesn’t even pause as he passes us. “Let’s go,” he says, and Robry and I hurry after him.

  “What did you say to Lena?” I gasp as I run to catch up with him.

  “You mother asked me to give Lena a message, but I can’t tell you what it was.”

  So we’re back to my mother and her secrets.

  “Do you know why Gillian was in such a hurry to go home?” I ask.

  “She didn’t say, but I gather it was important. She wants you and Robry to hurry, and both of you are to go straight to your cottage.”

  Cam strides along so swiftly I can’t keep up with him. “Cam,” I say, hating the wheeze I hear in my voice, “I can’t walk this fast.”

  Twice we have to step off the road into fields of dead cornstalks as convoys of armored troop carriers race by us heading toward Goleta. They must be sending more troops to make sure the fisher folk don’t cause any trouble.

  “How can they make all these people give up everything they care about and leave like this?” I wonder aloud.

  Cam’s eyes are hot and bitter. “Because we actually believe that our leaders helped us survive the famines and the tyrox outbreak before them. Because we’re so grateful to be alive, we’ve become sheep and let them tell us what to do.”

  “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?”

  “I suppose it depends on how you define stupid.”

  “You’re not g-going to fight them?”

  “No. If it makes you feel any better, I’m planning to run away. My brothers and I have talked about this before. We’ll slip away with the Sandpiper and become black-market fishermen.”

  “Maybe you could take me with you. With the dolphins’ help, you could be the most successful black-market fisherman ever.” I blurt the words, not really thinking about what I’m saying, but Cam stops dead in his tracks.

  “Nere, if only I could take you.” There is something in his eyes that I’ve just caught glimpses of before. He raises his hand and cups my cheek gently. “But your mother made it very clear to me years ago that she has other plans for you,” he says, and he drops his hand and starts striding along again.

  “What do you mean, she has other plans?”

  “Ask her,” he says. I’m shocked by the anger in his tone.

  “What other plans? Cam, you can’t keep this—”

  “Something’s burning!” Robry interrupts my protest.

  “No!” The hoarse cry is torn from Cam, and then he’s pounding up the rise to the headland above the harbor. Robry and I run after him as fast as we can.

  When I reach the top and see what’s happening in the harbor, I feel like the air’s been knocked from my lungs. The first of the wooden fishing boats is engulfed in soaring yellow and orange flames. A sleek, deadly Marine Guard cutter blockades the entrance to Goleta Harbor. Soldiers, with their solar rifles at the ready, block the access to the pier to make sure the fisher folk don’t try to save their beloved boats.

  “Oh, Cam,” I say, my voice breaking, “I’m so sorry.” There will be no escaping on the Sandpiper for him now. Even as we watch, another fishing boat bursts into flames. The smoke from the burning vessels twines like a massive black snake into the sky.

  “They tell us people are starving inland, and then they do this,” Cam says, his hands clenched into fists.

  My eyes flood with tears. I can’t believe Cam’s going to lose his boat and I’m about to lose my dolphins. What if Cam and I don’t get sent inland to the same community? I couldn’t bear to lose him, too.

  I reach out for Mariah.

  :Are you all safe?:

  :yes. the big boat with motors came, and we swam beneath it. we hunt now down the coast. you are safe?:

  :I am.: I don’t want to explain to her now about our having to leave. Surely there will be time for that later tonight.

  :your mother told us to stay near. be careful.:

  Gillian again. :I’ll do my best.:

  Cam takes my arm. He’s staring down at the soldiers guarding the pier. “Come on, we’ve got to get you home,” he says, and almost drags me toward my cottage.

  “But what about the Sandpiper?” I protest even as I dash away my tears.

  “I don’t want to watch them burn her,” he says, his voice rough.

  No one stops us from reaching the cottage. My mother meets us at the door.

  “Robry, Nere, thank heavens you’re here.” She starts dragging back the table the instant I close the door behind us. Is she really going to let Robry and Cam find out about the lab?

  “We don’t have much time,” she continues as she tugs the rug back. “You both need to head down to the lab right now. Cam, cover up this trapdoor with the rug and the table once we’re down the ladder. Keep an eye out for Lena and her family. Show them the way down to the lab if she comes, and tell her parents to hide the door. The soldiers will find the lab eventually, but I need to buy us all the time I can.”

  “I want to say good-bye to Nere before she goes,” Cam says. “You owe me that.”

  My mother pauses and meets Cam’s gaze before she starts down the ladder. “Very well,” she says after a long moment. “It’s going to be dangerous for everyone, but you can meet us at Tyler’s Cove an hour before sunrise tomorrow. Make sure no one else comes with you.”

  “All right.” Cam nods slowly.

  “What is going on?” I’m almost screaming in frustration.

  “Come to the lab, and I’ll explain everything,” my mother says curtly, and then she disappears through the trapdoor.

  Robry, his expression anxious, follows her. I pause at the top of the ladder, feeling somehow that this is the start of a separation I’m not sure I can survive.

  “Cam?” I can’t keep the fear from my voice.

  “I promise I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, his face grim.

  “I’m so sorry about the Sandpiper.”

  “I know, but your staying alive is a hundred times more important to me than any boat. Now go.”

  I climb down the ladder. My gaze clings to his. As the heavy trapdoor swings downward, it cuts off my view of Cam and drops closed with an ominous thud.

  “I WANT THE TRUTH, and I want it now. I’m sick of your secrets!” I shout at my mother the second I reach the bottom of the ladder.

  “You’ll get the truth, but we don’t have time for dramatics. Roll up your sleeve. I need to give you a shot. Robry, you’re about to get one, too.”

  “Why do I need a shot?” I ask.

  “To keep you alive where you’re both going.” She grabs my sleeve and rolls it up to my elbow.

  “Aren’t there better hospitals inland?”

  “You’re not going inland. You’re going to meet your father.”

  “What? Are you crazy?” I snatch my arm away, wondering what, exactly, is in the syringe I see next to her on the counter.

  “No, I’m not crazy,” she says brusquely. “But I will get angry if you don’t give me your arm back. Your father is very much alive and living up north in the Broughton Archipelago. Or at least he was six months ago, which is the last time he managed to get word to me.”

  I stare at her in disbelief. I hardly notice the coolness where she’s swabbing my arm with alcohol.

  “Now I know you’re crazy. Dad died two years ago.”

  “No, we faked his death during that storm so that the secret police would believe he was dead.”

  “Dad’s alive?” At first I can’t believe her, but I see the truth in her eyes. I feel like screaming for joy. My father is alive! And then I want to hit her.

  “You lied to me. You know I cried for months. How could you do t
his to me?”

  “Because we both felt that the work he was doing was too vital and too dangerous. We couldn’t risk you telling anyone that he was still alive, nor could we take a chance that the secret police might someday torture that information out of you.”

  The level, matter-of-fact way she speaks gives me chills. She takes advantage of my momentary shock and confusion to plunge the needle deep into my arm.

  “Ow, that stings!”

  “Sorry, sweetling.” I see a flicker of humor in her eyes as she kisses my forehead. “I’d give you a candy, but I don’t have any.”

  She turns to Robry, who already has his sleeve rolled up. “All right, my brave boy, it’s your turn now.”

  “This is going to change us all the way, isn’t it?” he asks her quietly.

  My mother looks startled. Then she searches his face carefully. “How long have you known?”

  “Since we studied the Eugenics Wars in school, and I came home and took a long look at my feet. I’m glad, though, truly. I’m ready to go.”

  “What do you mean this is going to change us all the way? Where are you ready to go?” I can’t help yelling again.

  “Into the ocean, for always,” Robry says calmly as my mother gives him his shot. “I think your parents altered our genes before we were born to create a new species of human that can survive under the waves.”

  I stare at Robry, trying to sort through his impossible words. Suddenly, I hear a scraping sound overhead. Someone is moving the table back from the trapdoor.

  We freeze. Have the soldiers found us? My heart gallops in my chest. Gillian calmly takes a lethal-looking solar pistol out of a drawer, powers it up, and points it toward the trapdoor. My mother owns a solar pistol? I can’t believe that she has one, or that she looks so comfortable handling it.

  My mouth goes dry as the trapdoor swings open.

  “It’s all right, Gillian, it’s me,” I hear Mr. McFadden, Lena’s father, call down the ladder to us.

  “I don’t want to go down there,” I hear Lena whine.

  Lena’s here? I’m trapped in a nightmare where nothing makes sense. I hear raised voices upstairs, and seconds later a red-faced Lena comes stomping down the ladder. The trapdoor shuts, and I hear the rug and table getting moved back into position.