Repatriate Protocol Box Set 3

by Kelli Kimble

  “Not by myself, I don’t think.”

  I helped him stand and propped myself under his arm. “How about like this? Can you walk now?” I turned him in the direction of his house.

  “No, I think you’d better take me to your house,” he said. “It’s much closer.”

  I bit my lip.

  “I know you’re worried about your aunt,” he said. “Maybe we can convince her it was my fault. That I dared you, or something.”

  “All right,” I said. We turned back towards my house and started hobbling. It was slow going, and I knew that not only was Aunt Rue going to beat me there, but I was going to be late for dinner, as well. Even worse, my mother would feel compelled to invite both Aunt Rue and Elton to eat with us, and our meager portions would be divided in half again.

  By the time I got Elton up the porch steps and into the living room, I was dripping with sweat. I opened the front door and helped him inside, then settled him on the old sofa in the living area. “I’ll get you some water,” I said.

  The house was quiet. I checked the clock and saw it was indeed past time for dinner. Where were my parents? Where was Aunt Rue? I poured Elton a glass of water and took it back out to him.

  “Do you have any ice? I think it’s swelling up,” he said.

  “Sure,” I said. I brought him some ice wrapped in a kitchen towel. I hoped he wouldn’t notice that, though it was clean, it was ripped and stained. “Let me see,” I said. He rolled up his pant leg and pulled down his sock. His ankle was swollen and a bit red, but it didn’t look terrible. I set the towel on it.

  He winced. “That feels nice,” he said.

  There was a knock on the door.

  I rose and peeked through the window to see who it was.

  Aunt Rue.

  She turned her head and must’ve seen the curtain twitch. She banged on the door, more insistently now.

  “What’s wrong?” Elton asked. “Why aren’t you opening the door?”

  “It’s my aunt,” I said.

  He tried to stand up without touching his injured foot to the floor. “Well, lock it!”

  Too late. Rue opened the door and, after seeing me standing there with my mouth gaping, entered and shut the door behind her. She locked eyes with me. I don’t know what you children are trying to pull, but you’ll be in trouble when your parents get home, she broadcast.

  “My parents are probably already home,” Elton said.

  My eyes widened, and we turned together to look at Elton.

  “What?” he asked. He hopped once and lost his balance, falling sideways onto the couch.

  “You heard her,” I said.

  Aunt Rue gasped. So did you, she said, grabbing my elbow. I knew you heard me the other day. Why did you lie to me?

  I swallowed and looked at the floor.

  She guided me to the sofa beside Elton and kneeled in front of me. Nim, we’re family. I love you. You can always tell me the truth.

  I didn’t like her attention. Something felt wrong about it. I looked at Elton. “How long have you been able to hear?”

  “Not long,” he said. “That’s really the first time I’ve heard a person. So far, it’s just been animals. It kind of hurts when a person talks.” He stuck a finger in his ear and dug around, like that would scratch the itch inside his head.

  Do you know of anybody else? Aunt Rue asked.

  Elton clapped a hand over his ears and shuddered. “No. Could we just talk out loud, maybe?”

  Rue shook her head.

  “She never learned to vocalize,” I said. “Her kids have implants.”

  Elton eyed her warily. “Couldn’t share any of that bounty with your niece, huh?”

  Rue drew back, as if he’d slapped her.

  “Elton, that’s not fair,” I said.

  Rue grabbed my arm. No, he’s right. When you were born, I tried to intervene. But, your parents were proud and didn’t want help; they thought they could make the cut on their own. I knew they wouldn’t, but I let it go.

  It was my turn to eye her. She’d tried to help me? Why would my parents have rejected that help?

  Do you know anybody else? she said to me.

  “No. Only the kid in my class who disappeared—Marve. And Elton.”

  They’re experimenting on your class, she said. She gripped my arm harder. You can’t let anyone know. Anyone. This is a secret you keep from your mom, your dad, your friends, your teacher, everyone. Understand?

  I nodded. “I’ve already been keeping it a secret,” I said.

  She released my arm and mussed my hair as she stood. You’re smart, like your mother. She looked at Elton. You, too. Got it?

  He rubbed his ears again and nodded.

  You’ll get used to that, she said. If I’m right about this, it won’t be long before you can project your thoughts, as well. But, you have to be really careful. At first, you won’t be able to control the recipients. So, you can only practice in private. When nobody else is around.

  “So, you want to explain who exactly is experimenting on us?” Elton said, dropping his hands.

  I can’t tell you that. It’s dangerous.

  “More dangerous than accidentally letting slip that I am a natural telepath?” Elton asked.

  Rue cocked her head.

  “That’s his word for it,” I said, “because we’re telepaths without implants.”

  Hmm. Rue’s eyes flicked between us. You need to keep each other safe. Okay?

  “What about Marve?” Elton said. I really could not believe what lengths he’d go to for Talika.

  Rue set her mouth in a thin line—a look of disapproval I’d grown familiar with and wasn’t too fond of. Forget him. You can’t help him. He’s gone.

  I gasped. “Gone? You mean, he’s dead?”

  No, she said, shaking her head. But, he might as well be.

  Elton and I exchanged a look.

  Rue sighed and went to the door. I won’t tell your parents where you were. But, don’t go back there again, okay? Take it easy for a few weeks; don’t draw attention to yourselves. There are probably other children in your class who are developing, too. Don’t reveal yourself to any of them.

  My mind drifted to Talika. It would be so awesome if we could talk to each other with our minds.

  Especially not Talika, Rue said. That family of hers would sell you all out in seconds flat.

  My mouth dropped open. How had she known I was thinking of Talika? She didn’t wait for me to ask more questions. She left, pulling the door over its awkward threshold, until it latched.

  “Holy crap,” Elton said, turning to me after she’d walked out to the street.

  “I know,” I said. “I can’t believe you can hear it, too. I was so scared something was wrong with me when my dog talked to me.”

  Just then, Chia wandered into the living area. She looked up at me and wagged her tail. Food, she said.

  We didn’t have any to give her, though. I took her to the door and put her outside. Maybe she could scavenge something on her own.

  “What do you think about what she said?” he asked. “Can we really not trust anybody?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. It pained me to think Talika’s family had marked her as an untrustworthy person, through no fault of her own. But, I could see her point; Talika’s father would do anything he thought might get him ahead.

  “For now, I think we should probably follow her advice,” he said. “I don’t know what happened to Marve, but I sure don’t want it to happen to me. Or my family.”

  “Yeah,” I said, agitated. Marve’s family was gone. I flopped down onto the couch, and it squeaked. “That’s an interesting thought, though. What did happen to his family? She made it seem like Marve wasn’t dead. So, they’re doing experiments on him? Then, where are his parents?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with any of this,” Elton said.

  “We don’t have a choice, Elton. We can’t hide our abil
ity forever. Eventually, you’re going to slip, and then what? Then, they’ll do to you and your family what they did to Marve’s. Don’t you see? If we don’t help Marve’s family, we’re as good as guaranteeing we’ll end up the same way.”

  His eyebrows scrunched up, disappearing under his hair. “I don’t know, Nimisila. We could get in a lot of trouble.”

  “Just think about it, okay? Think about it.”

  ◆◆◆

  Talika didn’t come to school the next day. After two nights of beatings in a row, I was sure she was at home, probably unable to get out of bed. Hopefully, her father hadn’t done any permanent damage.

  Elton was there, though aloof. He didn’t say much to me, though at lunch, he didn’t object to me sitting with him, and he shared some food with me—a custom I was fast becoming dependent on. This morning, I’d had to pull my belt in another notch to keep my pants from falling down. Somehow, I’d managed to lose weight from my already-bony frame.

  After school, I asked Elton if he wanted to go with me to check on Talika. Her parents wouldn’t be home from work yet, and she could probably use some friendly company. At first, he tried to evade me, but when I said she’d be happy to see him, he brightened and agreed.

  It was a sunny, fall day, and many of the trees were starting to change color. We took turns pointing out our favorites, and we laughed when we saw a dog sniffing another dog’s butt. The sniffing wasn’t so funny; it was that the dog doing the sniffing very clearly said, Hi! as he did it.

  We walked once past Talika’s, and it looked quiet, so we rounded the block again and went to the side yard, picking up the crate for her window as we went through.

  “I sure could’ve used that yesterday,” Elton said. “My ankle is still a little sore.”

  “You’re fine, you big baby,” I said, elbowing him in the side. “You just tweaked it, is all.” I set the crate under the window and climbed onto it. She usually kept the window unlocked, so I only had to maneuver it up enough to get my fingers underneath. But, as I was going through the familiar motions, something unfamiliar struck me.

  The room was empty.

  “No,” I said. “Oh, no. No. No.”

  “What?” Elton said.

  I jumped from the crate and went to the back door, yanking on it. But, it was locked.

  “What’s going on?” Elton asked again. He climbed onto the crate to look.

  “They’re gone,” I said.

  “What? No. That’s not possible,” he said. He cupped his hands around his eyes to look inside. “You’re just not looking . . .” He trailed off, then said, “It’s empty.”

  “I know; I told you. They’re gone.”

  “But, we were just in there yesterday, and there was a bed, and a rug, and some dirty clothes . . .” He trailed off.

  “I know.”

  He stepped carefully down from the crate, then turned and sat on it heavily. “How can she be gone?”

  “She must have it, too. The natural telepathy,” I said. I darted a quick look around, just in case anybody had heard me. Then, I added, “Just like Marve.”

  “Like Marve,” he echoed.

  “Yeah.” I sat in the overgrown grass. I wanted to cry. My best friend was gone. Her worthless parents, too. But, I didn’t care about them.

  “You were right,” he said. “We have to find out.”

  A single tear escaped. I nodded. “Yeah. Someone has to give us some answers.”

  At school the next day, the man in grey made another appearance. This time, Mrs. Darit didn’t speak to him in the room; they moved into the hall. But, when she came back, she confirmed another classmate had indeed graduated to telepath school.

  Elton and I exchanged a look over that. This time, he didn’t have anything clever to say, and he didn’t get a gold star. I raised my hand, though.

  “Yes, Nimisila?” Mrs. Darit asked.

  “Talika left some things in her desk,” I said. “I’d like to volunteer to take them to her.”

  Mrs. Darit stood very still for a moment. “Well, that would be very nice of you, Nimisila. But, I’m afraid I can’t advocate that kind of contact. You know telepathic children don’t mix with those who aren’t.”

  It was true; telepathic children didn’t mix with kids like me. Not usually. But, there wasn’t actually a rule against it. It was simply about the comfort level of those involved. “Oh, but my aunt works at telepath school,” I said. “I know she’d be happy to come with me.”

  Mrs. Darit demurred, but didn’t relent. “That is a very kind offer, Nimisila. But, it isn’t necessary. Talika won’t be needing those things, and we really need to be sure to give her plenty of space. She’ll be developing her telepathic abilities and finding her place in a big school, after being here in this small classroom for so long. She’ll need to stay focused on making a fresh start.”

  I nodded. “Just one more question, though. How come, all of a sudden, two people in our class can suddenly read minds?”

  Mrs. Darit jabbed a finger at me. “That is a very smart question, Nimisila. So, let’s talk about a scientific theory that was developed long ago, before the winter. It’s called ‘evolution’. Who can tell me what evolution is?”

  The class buzzed on, going over the theory involving primates and missing links and such. It didn’t interest me—though I probably was an example of it now. I hashed over Mrs. Darit’s words and reactions, trying to decide what—if anything—she knew.

  Who was the man in grey? Did he have something to do with it?

  After school, Elton suggested we go to his treehouse. We walked to the park, and this time, he let me pick my way through the trees, testing if I could find the treehouse on my own. He corrected my course through the green spots only twice. We climbed up the ladder and sat down in the middle of the platform.

  “What do you think?” I asked, finally feeling secure enough to talk.

  “Mrs. Darit knows something,” he said. “She’s got to. I bet, whatever they’re doing to us, she’s the one who starts it. Picks the candidates, or whatever.”

  “Mrs. Darit? But, she’s our teacher.”

  He rolled his eyes. “She hates us, Nim. Always has. Haven’t you ever noticed the way she looks at us when she thinks we aren’t looking?”

  “That can’t be true,” I said. I shook my head, like I was trying to force that thought to fall out of my ears. “She cares about us. I know she does.”

  “If she cared about you,” he said, “don’t you think she’d slip you some food now and then?”

  That stung. “I . . .” But, my voice trailed off.

  “I’m not trying to embarrass you, Nim. It’s not your fault your family doesn’t have food. You’re just a kid.”

  “I like to think other people don’t notice,” I said. I clutched my hands together, weaving my fingers through each other and tensing them until my knuckles turned white. Who was I kidding? Even my hands were little more than bones inside gloves of skin.

  “Only people who care notice, Nim.” He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

  It lurched a thought through me. Did Elton like me? I pushed the idea away. “Enough about that,” I said. “I can’t do anything about it, anyway. We’ve got to figure out where they took Talika.”

  “We’re never going to find her,” he said. “This is a big city. They could be anywhere. Maybe even outside the city.”

  I sighed. Had he already given up on her?

  “We need to find some clues, get some kind of direction,” he said. “Your aunt was no help. Going to Marve’s house was no help, and I bet we won’t find anything at Talika’s place, either.”

  “What about the guy? The guy who came the day they disappeared?”

  “Yeah, what is up with him? He wears dresses.”

  “I think they’re kimonos,” I said.

  “Whatever; he’s wearing women’s clothes.”

  I’d never travelled far from my neighborhood before, but I remembered once, w
hen I was small, my mom took me to a marketplace, where there were people wearing kimonos. Men and women alike wore them—though the male version had different sleeves and was shorter. They wore matching pants underneath. The women wore theirs more like a dress. They were longer—almost to the knee—and the sleeves had a square of extra fabric hanging below them.

  “I remember going to this place once, when I was a kid,” I said. “My mom took me there, and the people were dressed like him. Maybe they’re near there.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Where is it? Can we get there and back before dark?” He moved towards the ladder.

  “No,” I said. “I don’t remember how to get there. I’ll have to ask my mom about it.”

  “Ask, and we’ll go tomorrow,” he said, and I agreed.

  “Hey, let’s practice the telepath stuff,” I said. “I want to see if you can hear me.”

  He went to the edge of the platform and looked around, checking every direction for what seemed like an eternity. Then, he sat beside me. “Okay. Say something.”

  I put my pointer fingers to my temple—I’d seen real telepaths do that when they were learning to control their voices—and I closed my eyes. I pictured an ice cream cone. The last time I’d had one, I was probably four or five years old. The ice cream was pink, and there were strawberries studded in it, and the cone was rough in my hand. I imagined what it was like to lick it, how cold it was, and yet, how it seemed to melt away to a delicate nothing. I thought about how it dripped, and I’d frantically licked as much of it as possible, so as not to waste such a precious treat. Then, I opened my eyes and looked at Elton. I thought in my head, as hard as I could: I love strawberry ice cream.

  Elton flinched and rubbed at his ears. “It’s still uncomfortable,” he said.

  “But, you heard me?”

  “You like strawberry ice cream,” he said.

  “No,” I said, punching him playfully in the shoulder. “I love strawberry ice cream.”

  He shrugged. “Who doesn’t?”

  “Nobody I want to know.”

  We laughed, and it felt good. Talika and I often made silly jokes, but this felt different. It was freeing to laugh with someone who shared a big secret.

  “Now, your turn,” I said, when we’d composed ourselves.