The Secret Under My Skin

by Janet Mcnaughton

  I wonder if I should throw the basket into the woods and lie to Erica. But again I think, maybe this is a test. I’d do anything to keep myself out of that workcamp.

  At the fork that leads to Ski Slope, an old metal sign reads “Ski Lift.” I force myself to put one foot before the other. This path leads toward two rusting metal towers, the first of many pairs that travel up Ski Slope. The tops are visible above the trees from the upper windows of the Grand Hotel. Why are they here? Maybe it had something to do with an advanced technology. If the stories are right, Lem Howell’s house is at the base of the first towers. When I see them ahead, I duck into the bush so I can at least approach from an unexpected angle. It isn’t easy, dragging this heavy basket through the undergrowth. Branches snag my new tunic and scratch my face, making me wish for the protection of a UV visor. Then I see the clearing ahead. I move up cautiously behind a big spruce, removing the dark glasses so the light can’t reflect off them. Lem Howell’s house is just where the stories say it should be.

  Two huge, rusting metal posts support the front wall. It’s the strangest house I’ve ever seen. It reminds me of shacks in the barrio on the South Side of St. Pearl. Kids who went there would disappear without a trace. This house has that homemade look, but it’s different, made mostly of wood, not chunks of cement and sheet metal. The strangeness comes from what’s been added. Some things, like the solar collectors, I recognize, but there are more than this small house could possibly need, at least three different kinds of windmills and other things. Cones with wires coming out of them, metal grids that must have some purpose. Or maybe not. Maybe crazy Lem Howell just put them up because he likes the way they look.

  Suddenly the door swings open and there is Lem Howell. I freeze. I am well hidden behind the spruce, but my heart pounds so loudly I’m afraid he’ll hear. He looks just as I imagined. His clothes are patchy. His long, frizzy hair is reddish but graying. He sniffs the air like an animal. I’m afraid he’ll sniff me out. Then he stretches and gives out a yawn that sounds like an animal’s roar. He has big, yellow teeth. They look sharp. I wonder if I should drop the basket and run, but he turns and walks from the house to a small wooden building. A latrine. The door shuts firmly and I hear it latch. Why would a crazy man latch a latrine in the bush? I don’t even stop to wonder.

  I run from my hiding place as fast as the heavy basket allows. I fling it onto the step, turn, and run down the path without looking back, so quickly I am afraid I will lose control and tumble down the steep hill but somehow I keep my footing. I am positive Lem Howell must be at my heels, but at the fork in the path, when I finally pause to look back, I am alone. Clinging to the sign post, I clutch my side, which feels sliced open with a stitch. I gasp for breath but I am smiling. Lem Howell has his food and I am not it. If this was a test, I passed. Suddenly, a branch snaps on the hill above me. I run to the Master’s house without looking back again.

  Erica is still in the kitchen. She looks surprised. “Goodness, Blay, you didn’t have to hurry back like that. Such a lovely day. You might have enjoyed your walk.” She doesn’t seem to understand I’ve just done something dangerous and brave. “Where’s the basket? Did you leave it on the porch?” she asks.

  “You wanted it back?” I manage to say. How could I have brought it back?

  “Yes. I’ll fill it again in a few days. It isn’t much of a walk. You can get it later.”

  My knees almost collapse when she says this, but Erica is looking out the window and doesn’t notice. “Never mind. It’s such a lovely day. I’ll fetch it myself.” I sit down, overcome with relief. Erica gives me a sharp look. “You’re exhausted, aren’t you? You didn’t eat enough for breakfast. What would you eat, I wonder.” She takes a round red fruit from a basket on the counter and hands it to me. “Here,” she says.

  I take it in my hand. It’s smooth and lovely. “What is it?” Erica sighs. “You’ve never seen an apple?”

  “Oh, an apple. I’ve heard of these.” My teeth break the skin and sink into the sweet flesh. “It’s good,” I say with my mouth full and Erica laughs.

  She turns her soft and rubbery bread onto the board again. The thought of eating it makes me want to gag but I love the apple. I bite again and again until only the stem and seeds are left. The kitchen is bright with morning sun. It’s quiet, except for the thunk of Erica’s bread on the wooden board.

  “I went up to Marrella’s room and yours while you were gone,” she says. “You did a good job on them, Blay. I’m sure you’re going to fit in here.” Her praise makes me feel like I did in that hot bath last night. Warm and peaceful. The feeling is so good, it scares me. I must not believe that I could belong here. It is dangerous to even pretend. What am I doing here, really? My curiosity overcomes me. “Erica, why am I here? Last night, the Master said Marrella needed help with learning.”

  Before she answers, Erica presses a few keys on a panel in the wall. The kitchen powers down. “We’ve been having trouble with the power,” she says, then she continues. “William and Marrella are isolated from the townspeople now until her investiture. It’s part of a ritual that goes back centuries. So we can’t ask anyone from Kildevil to help her, but things have not been going well.”

  “So I’ll help her prepare for the ceremony?”

  Erica hesitates. “Not exactly. The Commission encourages us to train bio-indicators because they remind people how degraded the environment has been. In the Dark Times, when clouds of poison blew over from the industrial zones, bio-indicators exposed themselves to the toxins to show when it was unsafe for ordinary people to go out, and eco-warnings were then issued. It was simply a biological reaction to the environment.” I wonder what Erica means by “the Dark Times,” but I don’t want to interrupt. “Things are different now,” she continues, “and we hope bio-indicators can play another role. To show she can adapt, Marrella must learn to use important equipment and collect knowledge that may help the earth. But she’s always making mistakes. Over the next few weeks, she will also undergo some tests to see if she is capable of assuming new responsibilities, but she’s reluctant to learn anything and she seems to clash with William. We’re hoping you can help her learn. Is that clear?”

  “I think so,” I say. There’s so much I want to know. I struggle for the right questions. “I remember the eco-warnings in St. Pearl. We ignored them, but I never knew anyone who got sick because of them. Since I came here, there haven’t been any eco-warnings at all.”

  Erica gives me a look I cannot read. “You’re a clever girl,” she says. “I might as well be honest with you. In the Dark Times, the eco-warnings were real. The air from the industrial zones killed people. Bio-indicators died so often, they could hardly be replaced. That doesn’t happen now.”

  “Because of the technocaust?”

  A curtain comes down behind Erica’s eyes. I have said something very wrong. When she speaks again her voice is quiet. “That’s what they teach you down there, isn’t it?”

  My throat is so tight, I can only nod. Silence fills the room until I think this conversation, perhaps all conversation, has ended between us. I am just about to creep away when she finally speaks again. “I cannot talk to you about the technocaust, Blay, but you should know that the things you’ve been taught at the workcamp are not all true. Please believe me when I say that you don’t have the whole story. You will learn many new things in this house. We might as well start now. Blay, the ecowarnings in the city aren’t real anymore. The Commission uses them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Commission finds it useful to empty the streets of St. Pearl at times, to make people think it’s too dangerous to move around. As long as people fear the eco-warnings, they depend upon the Commission to protect them. They don’t mind giving the Commission extra powers.”

  “But why do bio-indicators cooperate?”

  “They don’t. There are no bio-indicators in the city now. No Masters. They have withdrawn. To places like this.”
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br />   I remember the tension between the Master and Warder November last night. It begins to make sense. “You mean you’re at war with the Commission?”

  Erica laughs. “I wouldn’t go that far. We live just up the hill from a Commission-run complex. Bio-indicators have always reinforced the Commission’s power. For a long time, the Way cooperated with the Commission. But the technocaust caused a split. It’s a kind of war, but no one dies. Call it a power struggle.”

  “But if we don’t need bio-indicators, why do we still have them?”

  “People would feel lost without them. Every month after her investiture, Marrella will be exposed to the water, the air, and the produce of the land in the bio-indicator’s Sacrifice, a ritual dating back to the Dark Times. People still need the Sacrifice to make them feel secure.

  “Besides, all creatures adapt when the environment changes. The Way is helping bio-indicators to accept a new role.” She pushes her bread into pans, then wipes her hands on her apron. “All this must seem strange to you. It will be stranger yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Remember what I said about tests? William is trying to discover if Marrella has special talents. You will help her prepare for these tests and accompany her to see she comes to no harm. I suspect she chose you partly because you look as if you could survive anything.”

  I feel a chill on the back of my neck. How strange will these tests be? I wonder. “What kind of tests?”

  Erica begins to speak, then damps her mouth shut. “It’s better for William to tell you,” she says. “I have probably already said more than I should.” She adjusts the panel on the wall again and the power comes on. She turns on the oven and places the pans of bread on top. “There,” she says. “Soon we’ll have bread.”

  I stare at her. “You mean you bake it? I thought we were going to eat it like that.”

  She laughs. “Eat bread dough? What an idea! You must think we’re barbarians.” She is not angry. “Let’s make lunch. I’ll try to find something you can eat. Ever try fish?” I shake my head. Isn’t it wrong to eat animals? I want to ask, but I don’t want to upset her again.

  “Well, I’m not surprised. Fish is so rare.” She takes something from a package in the food storage unit and puts it in a pan on the methane burner. The smell is strong but wonderful, like smoke, like the sea. When it’s ready, she puts a fragment on a piece of bread and gives it to me.

  I do not like the way it looks, like the body of a living creature, but the smell makes my mouth water so I take a bite. It tastes smoky and salty, warm and soft, like nothing I have eaten before. “I love it,” I tell her through the food.

  She grins. “You have expensive tastes but it’s a good protein. That’s called kipper. Smoked herring. A very rare food. For many years, herring were thought to be extinct. That was before I was born. The fishery is tightly controlled, but we get some from time to time. Now, help me get the rest of this food ready.”

  Later, when Erica takes the meal to the dining room, I stay at the kitchen table. “Wouldn’t you like to eat with us?” she asks. “You don’t have to sit alone.”

  “I’m fine,” I say. I’m not sure Marrella would welcome me. “I really don’t mind,” I add when Erica hesitates.

  “As you wish,” she says finally and leaves. We made a huge salad for lunch. Erica left more than I could possibly eat, the rest of the fish and half a loaf of fresh bread. Lunch passes quickly. I do not mind being alone with food. When Erica returns with the plates, I have already taken care of my dishes. “Good girl,” she says. “Now you’re wanted in William’s study.”

  The study is at the front of the house. Passing through the door, I think, now my real work begins. They sit at his desk, the Master with his back to the window, Marrella opposite, with a book turned between them. “Ah, Blay,” he says. “Please wait while I finish explaining this.” It is his habit to make orders sound like requests, but he expects to be obeyed without question. I sit in a semi-solid chair. It forms itself around my body like a cloud and begins to pulse a pattern in vivid blues and greens. Ordinarily, I’d be interested but now I ignore it. Instead, I study the Master. His eyes are the gray of a sea that is distant, but calm. His eyebrows are heavy. His gray hair has thinned to a fringe around his ears. He is older than Erica, but powerful and tall. He looks like someone who might have been a soldier. No. A warrior. That’s the word. Marrella does not look at me. It seems I am not worthy of her notice.

  “You see,” the Master says, “this one, Marrella splendens, is the creature you were named for.”

  Marrella draws back. “It’s very ugly.” She sounds horrified. “Oh no, it’s quite beautiful in its way,” the Master says.

  His voice is filled with humor and patience. “We learned many things from the Burgess Shale. But you won’t need this book until the final test.” As he closes the book I note the title, Geology Lessons for Bio-Indicators. He takes another book from the shelf. “This is the one you must read before the first test. Take it with you now.”

  Marrella does not touch the book. “I still don’t understand why I have to do these tests,” she says. “I want my investiture.”

  “I know you are anxious for the ceremony, but I’ve explained all this before. The tests will determine your aptitude for the role.” He turns to me. “There are two small tests, Blay, and a more extended one. They seem simple, but from them I will know if Marrella has the talent we are looking for. The final test is the greatest and is particular to the landscape of each area. On this part of the island, we’ve chosen the Tablelands. If we proceed to this test, Marrella will go into the Tablelands with you. She will listen to the earth and we will see what happens.”

  “I have always wanted to see the Tablelands,” Marrella says. She is as delighted as a child. She asks nothing about the tests themselves.

  The Master nods. “And you will if you pass the first tests.”

  Even I know about the Tablelands. In the picture on the ceiling of the Rotunda, they rise from the green hills around them like a chunk of the moon. Barren orange rock with not a plant to cover the naked ground. A place of desolation, and no one I’ve ever talked to can say why. I feel a cold wind at my back. Perhaps she will fail the first tests. Then we would be safe. But she is the one who chose me. How can I wish her to fail?

  The Master continues. “Normally, I could leave these tests until after your investiture, but winter is coming and there is a sense of urgency about this now. So we begin tomorrow, at dawn. I will not bother to describe what you must do now. Just make sure you read the book.”

  Marrella begins to rise but he stops her. “Before you leave, Marrella, we must discuss your UV readings. You’re still making careless mistakes. I have told you, repeatedly, to make two sets of readings for each observation, and yet I’m only seeing data for one. I also thought you understood the importance of taking a zenith observation as well as direct sun observations. I find them missing from most observation sets. The UV readings are very important. Such carelessness cannot be tolerated. Tomorrow, we will run through the entire process again with Blay. Then perhaps she can help you.”

  Marrella has stopped smiling. “I thought,” she says, “that being a bio-indicator was a natural talent. I did not know I’d have to learn all this stuff.” She spits the last word out.

  The Master’s face darkens. “Marrella, being a bio-indicator can be a blessing or a curse. That’s for you to decide. To this point, I would say you have seen very little of blessing.”

  He pauses to give Marrella a chance to reply, but she scowls and says nothing, so he goes on. “In the Dark Times, bio-indicators were like sacrificial victims, like those put to death to stop the gods from being angry. The role was altogether automatic, as you wish it now to be.” His voice tightens. “At that time, the life expectancy of a bio-indicator was a few years at most.” He pauses to rein in his anger. Although he is not young, there is power in his body. If he loses his temper, he could do great har
m. Marrella has not flinched but I hold my breath. He continues. “Things are different now. Bio-indicators collect information. Some do UV readings all over the planet every day, looking for changes in the ozone. Others collect information on the greenhouse gases. They all learn and try to contribute to our store of knowledge. It’s your job. Is this clear?” His eyes blaze.

  Marrella meets his gaze steadily, then shrugs one shoulder slightly. Her defiance takes my breath away. I am sure they will come to blows. I move to the edge of my chair. The Master is twice my size, but I will throw myself between them to protect her if I must. When the Master speaks again, his voice is filled with controlled anger. “I have never seen such disrespect in a bio-indicator. Your performance in this house has been disgraceful. If you fail these tests, Marrella, there will be no investiture. You will leave here in shame.” He turns away. “Go now,” he says. “Learn what you need to know. Take this.” Without looking at her, he pushes the book across the desk. “It will make you a better bio-indicator.” His voice is bitter.

  Marrella takes the book and storms from the room. I am swept along in her wake. At the foot of the central staircase, I hesitate, uncertain if I should follow. “Come,” she calls back over her shoulder, so I do. In her bedroom, she throws the lastbook against the wall. It lands on the floor with a loud thud that must certainly be heard throughout the house. I wonder if she’s broken it.