The Acceptance (The GEOs Book 1)

by Ramona Finn

  “Come on, I’ll show you around,” he said, as if talking to an old friend who was visiting and not an apparent prisoner from the Geos.

  He walked me through throngs of people who all seemed to be busy doing similar things. One group of women was weaving straw baskets. Others were smoking meat or tanning hides. Each person worked without modern technology, using tools made from rock and polished bones.

  “We don’t have any tech here,” he explained as he pulled a torch from the wall and continued on. “Those of us who choose to live on the surface abandon all technology and live off of what Earth Mother provides.”

  “But how?” My mind returned to the images of the Above that I’d pulled up on my terminal—those of a barren wasteland. Surely, the Rejs had used some tech, or at least would have in the beginning?

  “It seems impossible to you, I suppose,” he said, turning to lead me up one of the sets of stairs carved into the cave. “The world has only recently begun to return to life. In the beginning, many of us perished in the elements, or died of things like hunger and disease. It took us time, to remember how we are meant to live.

  “At first, we relied heavily on the ocean bordering the other side of the mountains, but over time, our knowledge grew, and Earth Mother breathed life back into the ruins of mankind. It was then that we returned to hunting in the forest, where we found you.” He turned a corner, pulling back a woven cloth that acted as a doorway for what looked to be a living space. It opened to an open room not unlike the one I’d stayed in during my training, only this one was made of washed limestone that reflected the light warmly. The room had a seating area made from bundles of bamboo shoots tied together and elevated on a platform. The limestone walls had been painted over with bright hues, each depicting a different scene. On one wall, a scene depicted death and mourning, and people dividing, some going underground. Then there came a scene of a group arriving in the mountains. The third wall intrigued me the most, for it showed a mix of overgrown foliage with scattered markings to represent buildings and animals. Some of them felt familiar, like the strokes of brown paint that had been used to depict a beast like the one that Skylar Two’s hunting party had slaughtered when they’d saved me. I approached the wall, tracing the scene’s shapes with my fingers as Skylar Two lit other torches, bringing more light to the space.

  “It’s our history,” he said as I investigated the painting. “From the fallout of the Virus, to the founding of our society. Each home in the cave is painted to represent the lives of our bloodlines. This one is reserved for our leaders—my bloodline.”

  He’d said it as if it should have been obvious. This was his personal dwelling he’d brought me to, though I hadn’t realized it until now.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. “Beautiful and sad and... familiar.” My fingers traced a series of red Xs in the center of the painting. The Xs sat in the center of a grey circle. The picture reminded me of the dead zone I’d nearly run into while being chased by the beast. “What does this one mean?” I asked.

  Skylar Two made a face that almost seemed to show a flinch, but it happened so quickly that I couldn’t be certain it was in response to my question. “That is our trial,” he said solemnly. When I raised an eyebrow, he clarified. “It’s like the Acceptance, only we don’t lie to our own about it. They’re given the choice to participate, or to leave for neighboring communities and hope they’re accepted there instead. Most choose our trial. The likelihood of being chosen by one of the neighboring groups is low. Not all of the leaders are as welcoming as my father.

  I wouldn’t have called his father welcoming, but I decided not to argue. I’d made it this far on pure adrenaline and grit, but now that things had settled down, my body ached from my journey in a way I’d never experienced. The wound where the beast had clipped me burned, and as more sweat gathered on my brow, I began to realize how tired I was.

  “You need to rest,” Skylar Two said, seeming to read my mind. I nodded, and he led me to an adjacent room, this one’s entrance covered by the hide of what must have once been a large, auburn animal. The sleeping quarters were modest, but not uncomely. The floor was clear of clutter, and a faux window made of iridescent shell fragments hung on one wall. There was only one problem.

  “There’s only one bed,” I noted.

  Skylar Two spread his arms wide and shrugged. “I am only one person.”

  “Just so we are clear,” I said, struggling to keep my voice firm and even, though my mind quivered nervously, “your so-called ‘protection’ doesn’t entitle you to any extra… benefits.”

  His brow knotted in confusion. I nodded my head at the single bed, waiting for him to make the connection.

  His eyes widened as realization dawned on him, and then he did something I hadn’t expected. He threw his head back and let out a throaty laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” I demanded.

  “Your people must be desperate if this is the way they court one another!” He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and chuckled. “I am not looking for a mate. Though, truthfully, if I were, I’d choose someone like you, only…”

  “Only what?” I was fuming, my anger fueled by my embarrassment at misjudging the situation.

  “Only, with a body that is less soft,” he said.

  My face burned as I contemplated his words. I noticed again how muscular he was. I recalled that Donalt had a similar build, with strong arms and a lean body. Nothing like the body of anyone from the Geos. A body that had no expectation of running, climbing, or hunting. A body that had never seen the sun.

  My embarrassment only served to encourage Skylar Two, who smiled as he knelt to reach beneath the bed, producing a bamboo bedroll. He unrolled it, laying it out on the dirt floor. “My body is not soft like yours,” he said, his eyes twinkling good-naturedly. “It will not mind sleeping on the ground.” With that, he laid back, put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A low hum woke me from my sleep. I shot up, disoriented at first. On the floor beside me, the shadow of Skylar Two’s form sat up slowly, stretching as he let out a long yawn.

  “Morning meal,” he said as he rose from the ground and led me out to the front entry of his dwelling. He pointed down to the main floor of the cave, where a broad-shouldered man stood beside rows of people who were seating themselves to eat. Each one laid out a bamboo pad not unlike the one Skylar had slept on the night before. Once they were seated, they were handed a wooden bowl of food that my eyes couldn’t identify from this distance. It smelled familiar, and yet new at the same time. Not quite like the meat back home, but I knew it wasn’t greens, either.

  The low hum that had woken me sounded once more, and I saw that the broad-shouldered man was blowing into a large, polished horn.

  I was surprised, as I’d always been told that the Rejs were a lawless and wasteful people, descended from the ancestors who had caused the fall of our society when the Virus had spread.

  “That’s to summon the late-wakers,” he explained. “We gather together for the first meal each new day, before the hunters and gatherers leave at first light,” Skylar Two said while I took in the sight of his people as they began coming together. There was no pushing, no fighting for resources like I’d seen in the Geos. “The elderly and the children stay here during the day, weaving baskets and making tools. The young hear the stories of our elders and learn the ways of our people. Everyone has a place. Everyone serves a purpose. Eating the morning meal together reminds us that the individual can feed many. Can house many. Can care for many, if each one does their part to the best of their ability.” His chest had swelled with pride as he’d spoken, and as I watched him, I wished that there was something in the world I believed in as much as he believed in his way of life.

  “There’s room for you, too,” he offered. “Soft people must eat more often, or they get cranky,” he teased. He intrigued me in a way that I’d never been intrigued before, the way tha
t he could follow up such a serious statement with just the right amount of humor to take the pressure off of me, and I was surprised to find that I wanted to go down the stairs with him to learn about his people and their ways. To see if, somehow, they had outsmarted Farrow Corp and found a way to live.

  But something else was holding me back. The reasonable part of my mind chastised myself, and fiercely. How could I be so easily taken in by the enemy? The same people had raided my home many times. Suddenly, I recalled the story of Nari’s sister, who had been injured in a recent attack, and felt my jaw set. No. My duty was to the Geos. Surviving the Acceptance was the only hope I had of upgrading my parents. It was the only chance I had of saving my mother. Mentally, I severed the connection that Skylar Two’s charisma had created between us.

  “Do I have to go down there?” I asked, and my stomach hurt as I watched his face fall. “I mean, no offense, but my soft body is still tired,” I said.

  He shifted his weight awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, of course.” He motioned me back to his sleeping room. “No one will bother you here. After the morning meal, I must leave with the other hunters. You’re free to wander, but I’d caution you against causing any trouble.”

  “I’m not a prisoner, then?”

  “Honestly,” he admitted, “I’m not certain what you are. Not yet, anyway.” He flashed me a dazzling smile. “A friend, hopefully. I’d hate for it to turn out the other way.”

  A shadow fell over my mind as I contemplated his words. I was free to roam, but was I free to leave? Skylar Two acted as if he’d known others from the Geos. How many others had there been before me? And where were they now? But rather than voicing any of my questions, I nodded, and he turned to leave.

  After he’d gone, I retrieved my pack from the corner of the sleeping room, opening a pack of dried meat. I’d tried to play cool in front of Skylar Two, but my soft body wasn’t tired—it was starving. After eating, I explored the dwelling and was relieved to find a pitcher of water in a room meant for socializing with others. It had a table that seemed best suited for someone who was standing, which was where the pitcher sat. Across from the table was a wooden pantry with intricate designs burned into the wood. I couldn’t find a drinking glass, so I settled for a stone bowl, pouring the water carefully into it. It seemed clear, and smelled clean, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I pulled my straw filter from a pocket on the leg of my pants, savoring the water as I drew it into my mouth through the filter. The taste of clean water that had not even once been mechanically recycled was an experience that left me in awe. I wondered at whether I’d ever be able to go back to drinking water in the Geos, before deciding that going back would mean living in the Greens. If Ben Farrow had access to filters, I reasoned that I could convince him to share. I sat back, smiling as I sipped more water from the straw and let my mind wander to the idea of drinking fresh water for the rest of my life.

  I started into another strip of dry meat eagerly… before I caught myself. My rations weren’t going to last me forever. I didn’t know how long my filter was good for, either. Best to preserve them both as much as possible. I tucked the second strip away in my pocket. It wouldn’t keep long now that I’d opened it, but I could at least save it for mid-day.

  I slung my pack over my shoulder and slipped my feet back into the boots I’d left on the floor by the bed. I decided I couldn’t afford to sit around waiting for Skylar Two to get back. I had to find a way to let the Geos know I was still alive.

  I exited the space to find a scene that was entirely different from what I had seen at the morning meal. The bamboo pads had been cleared to make way for those who had stayed behind to go about their days. Everyone in their prime had gone out, presumably in search of food. Only the very young, the elderly, and the new mothers remained. My eyes scanned the cave from top to bottom. Some busied themselves near their dwellings, sweeping the dust out of their doorways with tools made from wood and dry grass. Others minded the children, who appeared to have been divided by age and were being taught different tasks, from weaving and mending to carving and cleaning fish. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to how they were divided other than their age. Both girls and boys were represented in near-equal numbers amongst every task.

  It took a moment for all of the pieces to fall into place before I realized this was their education system: each group of children learning different skills, building on their knowledge with each year. Not unlike the way education had been before the Virus. Only, instead of arbitrary subjects that most of them would never use again, here they were being taught how to make and use tools. How to build. How to feed themselves.

  They were being taught how to survive.

  I wandered down the stairs to the main floor of the cave, past those who were dying animal hide and preserving food. I felt like an intruder, viewing the most basic functions at the heart of their community. It made me feel like even more of an outsider.

  This feeling was only amplified as I neared the mouth of the cave. Suddenly, those who had previously paid me little mind paused in their work, locking eyes and shaking their heads as I walked by. I was suddenly reminded how dangerous these people were. I was no friend to them. I was an outsider. An other.

  A gust of wind whistled through the cave mouth, cooling my face. I sighed as I stepped into the mid-morning light. I closed my eyes before going further, letting it soak into my skin. It was warmer than the sun of the previous day. The rays licked my skin in a way that both soothed me and set me on edge. The sun could warm, I remembered, but it could also burn.

  I opened my eyes and scanned the entry. Guards were posted on each side, but they were different from the ones who’d been posted when Skylar Two had brought me in, although with the scarves on their faces, it would have been easy to mistake them for the same two men—had the ink art sketched into their skin not shown completely different designs. The last pair’s had been comprised mostly of angles, whereas these men had lines that followed a curving pattern down their shoulders.

  “They mark our year of birth,” the one on my right said. “Given after our trial, a mark of the gods that protects us from disease.”

  This piqued my interest. I’d noticed many of the others with markings, but hadn’t had a chance to ask Skylar Two about it in all the chaos. If they believed the ink protected them from disease, perhaps the plant which the ink came from had medicinal properties. Maybe the Rejs had stumbled onto a cure accidentally.

  “How is the ink made? It comes from a plant, doesn’t it? Something that grows up here?”

  The man on the right raised an eyebrow and nodded silently.

  “Can you tell me where it is?” I tried to walk closer to the ledge in front of the cave, to get a better look at the valley below, but the second that I stepped forward, the guards stepped ahead of me, crossing their large wooden spears to block my way. I stumbled back, caught off-guard. “I wasn’t told that I was a prisoner.”

  “You’re not a prisoner,” the guard on my left replied. “But neither are you free to go.”

  “Okay, I hate to break it to you,” I said, trying to sound light and nonconfrontational, “but that is kind of the definition of a prisoner where I come from.”

  “Were you brought here against your will?” the guard on the right asked.

  “Well, uh,” I stuttered, recalling the series of events that had led me to this moment. I hadn’t exactly been invited to the Rejs’ party, but I hadn’t been bound and spirited away, either. “I guess not.”

  “Exactly,” said the guard on the right. “You are not a prisoner.”

  “Then I’ll just be going!” I flashed my best smile and took a step forward. They didn’t buy it, and I shrugged. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” I could have sworn that the guard on the right who’d been doing most of the speaking cracked the briefest smile, before setting his jaw. The other guard leaned in, forcing me to take a step back.

  “You are an outsider, and there
fore your travel alone is restricted until after your trial is over,” he said.

  “But I’ve done nothing wrong!”

  He only raised an eyebrow. “That is doubtful. You are from the Geos. Few from the underground complete their trial. Skylar Two is wasting his time.”

  Wasting his time? I wanted to shout. What about my time? What about my mother’s? But I kept these thoughts to myself. If they wanted to treat me like some mysterious stranger, I wasn’t about to waste my time revealing any more information than necessary about myself.

  I turned on my heels, keeping my head high so as to avoid making eye contact with anyone as I made my way back through the cave. Just because I was stuck here didn’t mean I had to shrink under their gaze. Still, on the inside I shriveled, both humiliated and scared.

  I took a little too much gratification in slamming down my boots on each step as I made my way back to Skylar Two’s dwelling, but I found my frustration level even more irritated by the inability to slam a door behind me in anger. Somehow, the snap of the animal skin falling shut behind me wasn’t quite the same. I kicked my boots off, not even bothering to move them from the center of the living space, and then stormed into the bedroom, letting my body collapse onto the wool-stuffed mattress.

  Instinctively, my hand went to my neck, where my mother’s necklace still hung. My fingers traced the threads and I imagined that they spanned the distance between us, linking us together. I wondered if her name had been bumped off the upgrade queue. Life in the Greens was only awarded to the families of Acceptance survivors, and since my tracker was toast, there was no way for anyone to know that I was still alive.

  Now I was stuck here. “Great job, Ty,” I whispered to myself. “Now what?”

  If there was anything beyond this world, it didn’t deem me worthy of answering. Or maybe there was really only one choice to be made: If I was going to get out of here, I was going to have to win the Rejs’ trust first.