Hungry

by H. A. Swain

  He puts his hands on his hips and hangs his head. “No,” he says simply.

  “But we have an obligation to use our knowledge to better the world!”

  He looks up. “Do you even hear yourself?” he asks me. When I stare at him blankly he shouts, “You sound just like your mother!”

  I’m so angry that I can’t see. I can’t hear. I feel like a train is driving through my skull. Without even thinking, I run toward him with my arms outstretched until I smack into his chest, pushing him backward while I scream, “Don’t you dare say that about me!”

  * * *

  I storm away, limping and livid that he, of all people, would compare me to my mother. And that he, of all people, would fault me for trying to make the world a better place. So what if I’m a privy? I can’t help where I was born! I can’t help that I just found out the world sucks. And then to blame me for wanting to help? I don’t know why I ever wanted to be with him. He’s a hypocrite and a liar and an idiot. And my ankle hurts again.

  I hobble along for several minutes, hopping and cursing each time something sharp pokes the soft soles of my feet. I come to what looks like the edge of the park. The exit is two more arches under a huge sign. I yank the vines away to reveal the words YOUR FUTURE IS IN YOUR HANDS: WHICH WILL YOU CHOOSE? I clear the foliage. The arch on the left says, HEAVEN. The one on the right says, HELL.

  “Oh for god’s sake,” I huff. People have made up stories for thousands of years to explain what they couldn’t understand. They’d say disease was caused by evil spells before they understood genetics. Or superstorms were the work of nasty genies. Or that a woman named Eve ate forbidden fruit and learned the truth about how hard life could be. But now that everything I’ve ever thought was true has been turned upside down, I understand why people grasp for answers. I only wish it was as easy as choosing path A or path B.

  I choose neither. Instead, I find a different path that leads deeper into the kudzu jungle. It’s calm and quiet out here and the ground is softer and smoother so it’s easier to walk. Soon my head stops spinning. I feel myself relax a bit under the thick canopy of vines that let in only a smattering of sunshine here and there. My stomach unclenches as the pleasant smell of the leaves warming in the sun permeates the moist air. I take a few deep breaths and try to understand what just happened. One minute I was rolling around on the ground wanting to devour Basil. The next I was so mad at him that I couldn’t see straight. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe my mom is right. Maybe we should control human hormones if this is how they make us feel.

  I slow down and look around. At first, everything seems the same, but as I look more closely along the path, I begin to make out colors, shapes, and textures that I haven’t noticed yet. Tall brown trunks—that were probably once trees—with soft green fur and brown stair-step disks growing around their bases. Another cluster of raspberries sparkles in the sun. I reach down and pluck a pink-and-white flower growing up from the earth. A real flower. Not a hologram or a synth plant. It is the most beautiful, amazing thing I’ve ever seen. So delicate and intricate. I want to tell others about this so they can decide for themselves whether to stay in the Loops or walk away. But, the thing that Basil doesn’t understand is that we don’t have to go back to spread the word. I reach inside my pouch and pull out my Gizmo, hoping that it still works.

  Slowly, the screen comes to life with the animated One World globe spinning while the system searches for a signal. I can hardly believe it works, but I shouldn’t be so skeptical. My father designed it after all. Astrid, still on mute, goes berserk, pinging me with dozens of messages, all of which I ignore because standing here, holding my father’s invention in my hands, makes me miss him terribly. I have the urge to call him and let him know that I’m okay. But, first things first.

  I log on to the Dynasaur chat, open a video feed, and film my surroundings. “This is HectorProtector. Since One World security forces attacked the Outer Loop Synthamil distribution point last night, I’ve made it to the Hinterlands. As you can see, the world is lush with kudzu out here.” I pan the sea of green. Then I reach into the leaves and pick a few berries. I hold them close to the camera. “Ana Gignot thought arable land beyond the Loops was a possibility. I’m here to tell you that it’s a reality.”

  Once my video has posted, I peruse the chats for AnonyGal. My heart leaps when I see a post from her, but it’s just two short lines.

  Watch your step out there, Dynasaurs! Moles are everywhere and their holes are deep.

  I puzzle over this. Why would she be warning people about the obvious? We all know One World trolls the chats—that’s why we protect our identities. Except mine was leaked. Maybe hers was, too. One last time, I reach out to her through a direct private message:

  Thnk U 4 the code. R U OK? I’m worried. Pls b n touch.

  I wait for a few seconds, but nothing comes back and I worry that she’s been arrested. Just as I’m about to log off, something entirely unexpected pops up—a vid of Yaz wearing a fuzzy purple jumpsuit standing in front of the green flashing 42. I sit, befuddled, wondering what’s gotten into her and why she’d be doing her PRC through the Dynasaur network! I click the feed and watch.

  If you’ve logged onto my PRC before, you know that my name is Yaz, but this broadcast will be different than all the others. Thalia Apple, who some of you may know as HectorProtector, is my best friend. I was arrested for helping her escape One World security guards then they released a video of me slandering her, but that was a farce. One World has twisted the truth of Thalia’s story into an indictment against her. But I am here to tell you, she is fighting the good fight for a more just world. Thalia Apple, aka HectorProtector, is on your side. Dynasaurs, Analogs, and Privies unite. Join us and tune in to my PRC for updates on the battle.

  As she reaches toward her HoverCam to turn it off, I notice a new tattoo on her wrist. A tiny sprout unfurls from a seed as the word Remember flashes beneath. I should have never underestimated her. I leave her a comment below the vid telling her she’s my hero for using her PRC to keep people informed, and I beg her to be careful. Then, knowing my time could be limited, I log off the Dynasaur site and I call home.

  * * *

  While Astrid pings my father, I see myself in the small subscreen. Pink hair. Green eyes. I look nothing like the Thalia my father knows and without my locator on, there’s no way for him to know it’s me. I worry that he won’t pick up when this stranger from a strange place calls, but he does and as soon as his face fills the screen, I burst into tears. “Daddy, it’s me. It’s Thalia.”

  He looks gaunt and tired with deep lines across his forehead. “Thalia?” he says and I hear the skepticism in his voice. “Is that you?”

  “Yes!” I pull myself together. “It’s me. It’s really me.”

  My mom jostles into the picture. Her skin is ashen and her jaw is tight. For the first time in years, I miss her like I used to when I was little and she’d go away on business. When she would walk in the door, dead tired, I’d throw myself at her, relieved to be in her arms again, even if her hugs were tepid. She scans my features, looking for some sign that it’s really me. “Do you think it’s her?” she asks my dad.

  “It’s me, you have to believe me,” I implore them, “I know I look crazy but so much has happened and…”

  “It certainly sounds like her,” Dad says, still studying my face.

  I rack my brain for something to convince them, some litany of facts like the ones Basil recited to his mother, but suddenly my screen goes black. “Dad!” I yell. “Mom?”

  I can hear them in the background, but I can no longer see them. “Do you think it was her?” asks my mom.

  “I don’t know,” Dad admits, choking up. “Where could she be?”

  “I’m here!” I call to them desperately. “I’m right here.”

  Then the sound goes dead. Slowly an image appears. Fuzzy at first, but then it sharpens and I see Ahimsa staring at me. “Hello, Thalia,” she sa
ys calmly.

  I gasp and back up into the tree. “But … how … but…” I shake my Gizmo as if I’ll be able to loosen her from my screen.

  “I see you’ve changed your hair,” she says. “I liked it better natural.”

  “What do you want?” I ask. “How did you get on here? Where are my parents?”

  She raises an eyebrow at me. “Come on, a smart girl like you must be able to figure out how I did this. Especially with all those hacking skills, HectorProtector. Cute,” she says. “But I’m not sure your grandfather would be flattered.”

  I ignore her dig. “You knew HP was me?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Even before you announced it to the world. I had my best security agent working on it, after all.”

  This takes me a second to piece together, but then I inhale sharply and whisper, “My dad?”

  She nods and leans back, letting his betrayal sink in as she slowly twists from side to side in her office chair. I remember twirling myself in circles many times in that chair when I was little. “I must admit,” she tells me. “Even I was surprised. I never saw that one coming. You were such a good kid. I had high hopes for you at One World. Wonder where we went wrong?”

  This makes me mad. I stand up and shout. “I wouldn’t work for you if … if … if…”

  “If what?” she asks. “Your life depended on it?” She laughs. “Funny, because it kind of does, doesn’t it?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snarl.

  She leans forward and gets her beaky face as close to the camera as she can. “I’m tired of playing this little game with you, Thalia. You’re causing big problems for us. For our bottom line. For your family. You think you’ve uncovered some big secret…”

  I grab a handful of leaves. “Like this!” I shout and shove the leaves in front of the camera. “You’ve been lying for years.”

  Ahimsa’s face tightens. “It’s just not that simple. Even if there is food out here, it’s not enough to feed the world. You have no idea what it was like when the food supply diminished. The hoarding. The wars. The famine. Watching children die. Your parents and I promised ourselves that we would do everything we could to make sure that never happened again.”

  I toss the leaves in the air. “You’re lying right now! I know about the children born illegally. How you don’t feed them. You’re not saving anyone!”

  For a moment she falters but then she regains her composure. “The system might not be perfect, but it would be irresponsible to pretend that we can go back to the way life once was. If we did, war would break out again and only the richest would survive. We’ve found an acceptable solution for the greater good. Believing that is the most compassionate thing you can do.”

  “No,” I say. “You’ve been hiding this so you could keep people under your thumb and make a profit.”

  She snorts. “Don’t be so naive, little girl. Profit makes the world…”

  “What do you want from me, Ahimsa?”

  She cocks her head to the side. “Oh dear, I’m no longer Auntie Ahimsa to you?”

  “You never were,” I say. “Why did you hijack my call to my parents?”

  She half smiles. “Anybody else who pulled the shenanigans you have, would be dead by now.”

  Her words send a sick ripple through my guts.

  “But I’ve known you since you were born, and your parents are like siblings to me, so I’m trying to help you save yourself. Your restitution for all the crimes you’ve committed has been set extraordinarily high.”

  “You twist reality.”

  She shrugs and continues. “So high in fact, that your parents won’t be able to meet it. They’ll try of course, but they’ll ruin themselves in the process. Not to mention lose their prominent positions at One World because of the stain on their reputations from your behavior.”

  My chest tightens and I find it hard to breathe. I’ve known this but haven’t allowed myself to think about it until she puts it so bluntly. “What do you want from me?”

  She folds her hands and stares hard. “Come back. Turn yourself in. Admit that you’ve been wrong. I’ll get the restitution reduced and cover it. Then we’ll lock you up in some chic rehab facility in another population center, where we’ll treat you for your genetic flaw. I’ll even let your mom work on your case. She’ll find a cure; you’ll come home. It’ll be a sweet story. The public will eat it up.”

  “What about the others? The protesters? What about Basil?” I ask, breathless.

  “They’ll be treated fairly.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I tell her. This clearly makes her mad. She sets her jaw and looks to the side. “Now that you killed Ana, you need another scapegoat,” I say.

  She nearly hops out of her chair as she jabs her finger at the camera. “You better start cooperating right now. Don’t think I can’t find you. One snap of my fingers and we’ll pluck you out of that forest so fast.…”

  The screen goes black before she finishes her sentence.

  “There!” I hear my dad say. “I think I fixed it.” A new fuzzy image comes on my screen. “Thalia?” he yells. “Thalia, can you hear me?”

  “Dad!” I yell back. “I’m here!” He and my mom stare at me again. “Ahimsa hijacked your call,” I tell them.

  “Ahimsa?” Dad asks, bewildered.

  “She threatened me. Told me to turn myself in and…”

  “Don’t do that,” my mom warns.

  “What?” I sputter in disbelief.

  “Listen to me,” Mom says. “We don’t have much time. Things have gotten bad here. You need to stay away. I’ve been doing a lot of research, and I think I’m beginning to understand what needs to happen, but One World’s not going to like it. Promise me you’ll go someplace safe until we can get to you.”

  “But I … I … I don’t even know where I am,” I admit. “And Ahimsa said…” From the distance I hear shouts. “Oh no!” I cry, fearing that my signal has somehow allowed Ahimsa to keep her promise.

  “Thalia,” Mom says to me.

  “I have to go!”

  “Wait!” she says. I look into the camera too afraid to move. “I want you to know, I don’t think you’re crazy, and I know you didn’t do all those things Ahimsa has accused you of,” she tells me. “I’m on your side,” my mother says.

  The shouting in the distance gets louder. I’m afraid they’ve gotten to Basil.

  “We will help you!” my father calls as I throw my Gizmo to the ground and run.

  * * *

  I charge down the path toward the heaven and hell archways. I have to get to Basil. The entire area is probably crawling with security agents who’ve been looking for us all night. Somehow Ahimsa was able to zero in on my signal. At the end of the path, I skid to a stop on the moist ground when I hear loud voices.

  I push into the kudzu curtained trees beside the path to hide. Tendrils from the vines wrap around me as if they too want to pull me down. I feel like I’m inside one of Grandma’s knotted balls of yarn. I creep forward, carefully unraveling vines, so I don’t snap a twig or rustle the leaves. Being barefoot makes it easier to tread softly, but my limp makes it hard not to stumble. I quickly realize that I have to stop moving or I’ll give myself away. Instead, I peer through the lacy pattern in the undergrowth at the group of people surrounding the place where Basil and I wrestled for berries less than an hour ago.

  Two men bend down, touching the ground where our bodies matted the green foliage. My heart pounds so loudly in my ears that I’m sure they will hear me. I count the people. Five, no six, half are women. Some carry huge curved blades on poles slung over their shoulders. Others carry coarsely woven bags on their backs. They are the strangest security agents I’ve ever seen, but I figure they are bounty hunters from the Outer Loop who’ve come to take us back, dead or alive.

  “Please, please,” I mutter, begging some invisible force to make sure Basil has seen them and hidden.

  The men stand up. They talk in low
voices, pointing in different directions. The discussion gets heated. They gesture at one another and grimace, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. One of the women steps between them and shouts, but her words are lost to the wind.

  Not far from me, something crashes through the kudzu. I wrench around trying to find where it’s coming from, then watch in horror as Basil rushes out from the brambles, squinting against the sun. “Apple!” he yells as he runs blindly toward the people. “What’s happening? Are you okay?”

  * * *

  In the time it takes the group to draw their weapons, surround Basil, throw him to the ground, and shout in his face, I have to make a decision. It must take no longer than a minute or two. They stand him up roughly, form a circle around him, curved blades on each side, so he can’t run. I know in that time I have to choose. I can either turn myself in with the hope that Ahimsa will keep her word to go easy on me and treat Basil fairly or I can, for once, listen to my mother. The choice isn’t easy. I’m not sure who I can trust, but my mind crystallizes around one single intention. I must, at all costs, protect Basil.

  I stay hidden in the underbrush and follow the group as carefully and quietly as I can. They walk toward the heaven and hell archways and pass within a few feet of me. I’m confused about why they aren’t going in the other direction, out of the park and toward the river. Surely, there are no prisons out this far. Then they take the path through the woods that I abandoned, and I realize that they must be looking for me. I follow at a distance, but when they pass the place where I tossed my Gizmo, they walk by without slowing down or commenting.

  Camouflaged in the twisted vines, I pursue them for what seems like miles. Sometimes I can hear them talking, but I’m too far away to know what they’re saying. Anytime kudzu has grown close to the edge of the trail, one of them hacks it with a curved blade. Then, as suddenly as they slipped into the woods, they leave the trail. When they are all off the path, I sneak up close to the opening, which emerges into a clearing surrounded by a ring of strange low buildings with rough brown walls and woven roofs. This place certainly isn’t a city, and it doesn’t look like a prison or a settlement or even a geophag camp, yet clearly people live here.