“You again,” he said without looking up. Even his sandwich looked sad. Crumbly bread, dried-up lettuce, and some kind of meat.
“Welcome back to earth,” she whispered. “Consider me your tour guide.”
He didn’t even crack a smile. Once again Tabitha almost felt sorry for him.
In the distance there was another murmur of thunder. “Look,” she said, “you can’t mope or they’ll catch on to you. You have to keep acting like everything’s beautiful and you feel terrific. Try not to look anyone in the eye too long. If you do, smile. And don’t trust anyone.”
“Why should I trust you, then?”
Good question, she thought. In spite of everything, she found herself liking the kid. “Because I’m all you’ve got now.” She examined her own lunch. A dry roll with some kind of dirty, watered-down soup. “A few days ago I saw you arguing with the Guardians. Don’t do that again unless you want to take a trip to Special Training and come back a walking basket case. Never let your emotions control you. Most of all, whenever the spheres kick in, you need to pick something genuine to focus on. Sensations are good. Pinch yourself if you have to. Force your eyes to look to one side of the image.”
“How am I supposed to do that? The spheres are so strong.”
“Don’t worry. You can pull it off, I can tell. And it gets easier with practice.”
For the first time he looked at her. “What do you want from me?”
“I told you yesterday. In this crowd of sleepwalkers, a kid who can think for himself is a rare commodity. We can help each other.” She filled him in about Learning Floor 1-C, about the shipping boats and transport pods. She was careful how much detail she went into, though, especially about all the Guardians who kept watch down there. The kid already looked terrified enough, and she couldn’t afford to scare him away. Like it or not, she needed him.
“I don’t see how you expect to get away with stealing a pod,” he said when she was finished. “Even if you somehow make it out of here without getting shot out of the sky, then what? Where do you go?”
“Where else? We can’t go back to the domes, so our only choice is to hide in the wasteland.” His eyes fell back to his tray. Tabitha could tell he thought she was nuts. This wasn’t going to be easy. “There are safe places out there,” she said. “Sanctuaries where people know their way around the desert.”
“What people? Outsiders, you mean? Cutthroats and lunatics and cannibals? You expect them to lend a hand?”
“No, people like you and me. Friends who can show us how they survive. They’re out there, Eli—we just have to find them.”
“How can you know that for sure? Have you been out there? Do you know anyone who has?”
Tabitha hesitated. This wasn’t going as well as she’d hoped. And the truth was that she knew nothing for sure. She was making a leap of faith, hoping the Friends were right about this. Because what other option did she have?
“No,” she admitted, “it’s just what I’ve been told. But no matter what, don’t you think even the chance of surviving Outside beats the certainty of living like a zombie in here? We sure can’t go back to InfiniCorp.”
Eli played with his napkin. “Listen, I know you’re trying to help me, and I appreciate it, but I think you and I are in different situations. Maybe you can’t go back to InfiniCorp, but I’m only here because of a mistake. I won’t be here much longer.”
Tabitha stared. Was he serious or was he playing with her? Could he really be that naive? “Let me get this straight,” she said, careful not to raise her voice. “You’re waiting for dear old heroic Granddaddy to burst through those doors and save your precious Papadopoulos butt? Well, forget it. I hate to be the one to break it to you, Prince Eli, but if you’re here it means somebody wants you here. This tower is the end of the line, and there’s no going home. Not for any of us, not even you.”
His face went pink. “That proves how little you know.”
“Oh really? So what’s this I hear about you and the Friends of Gustavo?”
That seemed to catch him off guard. His mouth opened and closed, and then he dropped his gaze again. “That was my own fault,” he said, “my own stupidity. Yeah, I spoke with a Fogger. Two, actually, and now my cousin Spider has it in his head that I’m part of some conspiracy. What I did was dumb, I know, and I won’t do it again. But just because I screwed up, it doesn’t mean I was working against the company. I wasn’t.” He looked up. “Why, what do you know about the Friends of Gustavo?”
“I know a little,” she said. “It’s hard even for me to believe it now, but I used to be one of them.”
As soon as she said it, she realized she’d made a mistake. Eli’s expression hardened. It was a few seconds before he spoke again. “Oh, I get it now. I should have known. So that’s what you meant about finding help Outside. You people are still trying to rope me in. Or maybe you’re just setting me up for some kind of trap.”
“No, that’s not—”
“What’s the matter with you people? I already told the old man I’m not interested in joining. I’m not like you! And now because of you Foggers I’m stuck here. Haven’t you done enough to me already? Why can’t you leave me alone?”
“Keep your voice down,” Tabitha said through her teeth. All around them kids were eating and talking, and the last thing she wanted was to draw anybody’s attention. She leaned in closer. “First of all, the Friends—the Foggers, as you call them—didn’t arrange for you to be here. It’s not how they work. Second, I believe you that you’re not Friend material. That’s obvious. And anyway, didn’t you hear what I said? I’m not one of them anymore.”
“Oh, I see. You were a traitor, but now you’re all reformed.”
Tabitha’s blood rushed. Of all the people she might have ended up with, why did it have to be this kid? Here he was, imprisoned in a slave tower, and even now he was so confused that he wasn’t ready to admit the truth. He obviously wasn’t going to understand.
She should have expected this.
“You’re not the only mistake the Friends ever made,” she said at last, trying to stay calm. “They ruined my life and then abandoned me. And, no, I don’t believe most of the stuff they believe in anymore. Gustavo. The Wild Orange Yonder. I tried to for a while, but I don’t think I ever really did.”
“Then why go running Outside, looking for them?”
“You have any better ideas? Or are you okay with the prospect of rotting your life away?” Tabitha’s fists were clenched. She had plenty more to say, but that was when, over Eli’s shoulder, she noticed one of the Guardians wandering between the tables not far away. She swallowed her anger and forced a vacant smile. She’d had plenty of practice hiding her emotions, but she worried about Eli. He was a newbie. But when she started sipping at her lumpy soup and making happy sounds like it was the most delicious soup she’d ever tasted, he seemed to get it that something was up. He smiled too and started murmuring about glow lobes.
She was glad to see that at least he wasn’t a complete fool.
Even after the Guardian moved on, it was a while before either of them spoke again. The storm Outside wasn’t quite finished yet. The wind picked up, and Tabitha could feel the tower sway just a little.
“What about the end of the world?” Eli asked, calmer now. “If you don’t believe in most of what the Friends say anymore, does that mean you don’t believe these are the Final Days?”
Sweat trickled down Tabitha’s neck. Glancing around at the room, all she saw were zombie slave children sitting empty-eyed in the heat and stink of the cafeteria while Guardians stood watching. Even away from the spheres of the productivity area, many of the kids still gazed at a glowing screen on the wall, an ad for yet another dream game. Just at that moment there was another distant peal of thunder. To Tabitha it all seemed so pathetic and sad that it was almost funny.
If the Guardians hadn’t been watching, she might have laughed.
“I can’t deny that one,” sh
e said. “If this isn’t the end of the world, then I don’t know what is.”
Eli stayed quiet awhile. “I’m not saying I believe, and I’m not saying I don’t,” he said at last. “All I know is, as soon as I have the chance, I’m going to tell my family about this place. I’m going to have a lot to say.” And then he mumbled something as if only to himself. “‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said, ‘to talk of many things … ’”
“What was that?” Tabitha wondered if she’d overestimated him. Was he falling back into the Wayward trance again?
But then he gave her a half smile. “Oh, it was just something the old man said.”
“What old man?”
“One of the Foggers I met. A crazy old guy who told me he was Gustavo.”
Tabitha raised an eyebrow. “Well, you’re right about one thing. He must have been crazy if he thought he was Gustavo. He couldn’t have been. Not the Gustavo, anyway. If that guy really existed at all, he must have died years ago.”
Eli nodded. “I know. And I admit he had me wondering at first, but now I realize it had to be his brain fever talking. He told me he used to work for the company and that he knew my grandfather. I even saw an old image and started to convince myself it might have been him. The craziest part was that he said he saw me in a dream and that I had a special destiny to fulfill some prophecy about saving or destroying the world. Which is ridiculous. He called me a weird name too—el Guía.”
“He called you that?” Tabitha wasn’t sure what to say. What he was telling her was completely whacked. No wonder the kid was such a mess. “Trust me, Eli, it had to be his brain fever talking. Whoever the Outsider was, he was playing with your head.”
The bell rang, warning that only four minutes remained before they had to head back to the Learning Floor. All around them Waywards began to get up from their tables and shuffle over to the tray conveyor belt.
“Listen,” Tabitha whispered, “like I said, we don’t have much time. I’m offering you a chance to break out and live for the rest of your life, however long that might be. Are you in, or do you still have so much faith in your virtuous relatives that you’re willing to risk wasting away in this place?”
Eli narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t act like you know anything about my family. You don’t. When I tell my parents the whole truth about how my cousin is running this tower, they’ll shut it down.” He turned away. “Risking my life with some crazy Fogger escape plan isn’t the answer.”
“Your family’s going to shut down the work tower?” Tabitha repeated, unsure if he was kidding. “Eli, how do you think the domes have stayed running so long? All those people living their little bubble lives. How do you think they make it all function? What, you think this tower is the only one? Don’t try to pretend you never knew. Your whole clan runs this organization, not just some bad-egg cousin of yours. You people built this system.”
Eli’s face reddened. “I don’t believe it. My family isn’t perfect, but we’re not monsters. Grandfather is a good man. Whether you want to admit it or not, he saved us from extinction and made the cities work even when the rest of the world was dead. We Papadopouloses kept everyone safe and alive.” His jaw tight, he pushed his chair back and stood up.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“Maybe. But I already listened to you people once, and look where it got me.”
“Eli, you can’t be serious—”
“Leave me alone.”
Tabitha watched as he picked up his tray and joined the others. She wanted to run after him, take him by the shoulders and shake him. Instead, though, she grabbed her own tray and headed as calmly as she could to the back of the line. This wasn’t over. She hadn’t made it this far only to lose her one chance of escape because of somebody else’s misguided loyalty.
She wasn’t finished with Eli Papadopoulos.
19
the nature of nature
Soaking wet and covered in mud, Marilyn limped down the median strip between two lanes of broken asphalt.
It had been raining for four days. She’d spent the previous night shivering under one of the thousands of abandoned cars she’d passed along the highway. Near exhaustion, she’d tucked herself up among rusted pipes and decayed rubber tubing in hopes it would at least partially shelter her from the downpour. Instead of sleeping, though, she’d spent most of the night listening to the wind and rain. In her brief moments of slumber, she found herself besieged with the same torments she’d faced every day since she’d been Outside.
Wind and sodden earth. Lightning and hunger and wild dogs.
Even in her dreams, she couldn’t escape these things now.
She’d been following Eli’s distant signal for five days, ever since she’d left the Providence dome. Always moving, she’d kept to the same road as much as possible because she didn’t trust her own ability to navigate through the unfamiliar. Once, back in the Long Ago, it had been a highway known as Interstate 95. Marilyn knew this because there were rusted green and white signs that said so. Every now and then she passed under them—ancient signposts for travelers who no longer existed.
It had been days since she’d seen a human being. As far as she could tell, she was the only traveler out here now.
According to the signs, she was somewhere in Connecticut, just beyond the ruins of a city called Bridgeport. Every mile she covered looked more or less the same. Disintegrating pavement. Barren fields of mud and rubble. Dead trees like corpses. Now and then she came across the ruins of a former city or town, some deserted business center with crumbling bridges and empty, dilapidated buildings. And since the rain began, everything was flooded.
Worst of all was the hunger. In all her life she’d never known it like this. On the first day, before the rain began, there had at least been the insects that swarmed in thick clouds through the air. But the rain had made bugs difficult to find, and now she was ravenous. Every once in a while she came across the remains of dead things, mostly animals her own size or smaller, their bones picked dry. But even if she’d had the stomach for such things, there was never any meat left on them.
After four days of running, hunger burned inside her like a fever. The ache in her belly consumed her thoughts and never left her alone. She was feeling weaker by the hour.
Toward the end of that afternoon she stopped to catch her breath. Resting behind a large rock at the crest of a hill, she could see for miles across the desolate landscape, even through the rain. A sea of empty land vehicles. An overturned bus, its rusting hulk half-submerged in water. The highway ran like a river, and, as warm as the air was, above her the looming sky was gray and cold. She closed her eyes.
I know you’re still out there, my darling. Hold on. I’m coming for you.
She could still feel Eli’s signal, but he made no response.
Marilyn had already had one close call with wild dogs. It had been before the rain, on her very first evening out of the dome. Any genuine animal of the wild would have sensed something approaching, Marilyn was sure, but her attention was elsewhere. She was standing in the middle of a clearing in the woods and was looking straight up at the gathering clouds, which were lined in pink and red as the hazy daylight faded. The colors were softer out here and yet at the same time more intense. She was mesmerized by the idea that these were real clouds, actual formations of crystallized water droplets that had collected up in the atmosphere and reflected natural light from the sun. There was no programming involved. Nobody had encoded them with drift logic or advertising.
These clouds simply were.
Watching the real sky, so vast and uncorrupted, made her feel for the first time a part of Nature, an unspoiled creation of an immense system of randomness. Yet the colors were so beautiful, they made her wonder if this system could be so random after all. Maybe there really was a Leonardo up there somewhere, overseeing things. In the unknowable scheme of the universe, wasn’t it possible that someone or something might have planned all this? The c
louds, the sky, even Marilyn herself? Could it be that even a brain-chipped mongoose was here for a purpose?
Looking back, she could almost feel her animal ancestors chirping at her in alarm. There she’d been, exposed in an open field and lost in pointless ruminations—hardly the thoughts of a feral mongoose fit to survive in the wilderness—and the distraction had almost killed her.
Wild dogs sprang from every direction, five of them, scraggly things with rib cages clearly visible on their emaciated bodies. They lunged across the field with their teeth bared, their yellow eyes burning with a look she understood better now. It was hunger. They’d been lured by her scent, the smell of food. They were nearly upon her.
The only reason she survived was luck.
Just as she felt the biggest and fiercest of the dogs snapping at her heels, she happened upon a narrow hole in the ground. She’d passed several of them as she’d walked into the field, and now she darted down into one. In that instant all five dogs reached the top of the hole, growling and tearing at the dirt above her. They barked and howled in frustration, but they couldn’t get to her. Marilyn scratched and flailed her legs through the dirt to move herself forward. She was deep in a tunnel, and now she had time to wonder what creature had dug it and whether it might still be down there, somewhere in the gloom, ready to attack any intruder. But she wasn’t going back. She took her time crawling through the darkness, uncomfortable in such a tight space. The hole smelled musty and old. Whatever animal used to live in this place, not even its scent remained. Eventually she found another way up and out of the tunnel and ended up in a thicket perhaps forty or fifty yards from where she’d leapt into the hole. By then it was pouring rain. But the dogs were gone.
From then on she’d been more careful. As she traveled, she kept her eye out for escape routes, anything she could climb or dig under or hide inside at a moment’s notice. A concrete wall. A car with a half-open window. Even the water itself could be used as cover.
A Crack in the Sky Page 23
