“We don’t know all that much about what goes on in that house, Letta, but we did get some information from Gorr. We do know that the Captain of the Guard, Cregg Whistlestop, writes the order.”
Letta nodded, trying to take everything in.
“We also know that all orders are signed by Noa himself,” Finn continued.
“So,” Letta said trying to figure it out, “at some stage today, the orders will cross Noa’s desk?”
“That is almost certain,” Finn said.
Letta stood up and started to pace. “So if I could get in there, into his office, I could see the order?”
“Letta, this is foolishness! I don’t know if you could see the order or not. I don’t know where he stores such things, if he stores them. I only know he signs them.”
“But there is a chance …” Marlo’s voice made Letta jump. She had nearly forgotten he was there.
“There is always a chance,” Finn growled. “There’s also a chance that she’ll be caught and killed. Why don’t you leave it to us? We will do everything we can.”
“But you said yourself, the odds are against you. It will be like hunting for sunbeams in a river. You might get lucky, but you might not. If we knew which gate, if we knew where they were headed, then Benjamin would have a real chance.”
“You are right, but the cost may be…”
“My life,” Letta said. “I know that, and I’m ready.”
Finn sighed again. “Very well then,” he said. “We’d better get to work.”
Chapter 13
#487
Winter
Cold time of year
As she climbed the steps to Noa’s house, Letta realized she felt no fear. She had been in awe of John Noa before, looked up to him as the man who had saved the planet. She had grown up on stories of his great valor, his clever thinking, his vision. Now she knew that none of that was real. John Noa was a bully. That thought made her brave. He might be a very clever bully, but he was still a bully.
She had gone over the plan with Finn, but even as Finn was talking, her mind was working independently. She wanted to trust her instincts, and her instincts told her that she could play a part. She would pretend she was still the girl she had been yesterday.
She had almost reached the top of the steps. She rehearsed what she would say and how she would say it. She opened the gate. From the corner of her eye, she saw movement in the downstairs window, eyes always watching no doubt. She marched up to the door and knocked firmly. A gavver opened it. He frowned but said nothing.
“I come see John Noa,” Letta said. “Tell him wordsmith here.”
The man looked her up and down, his eyes raking her from scalp to sole. Then he stood back and allowed her to pass.
“Wait,” he growled, before heading off down the long corridor.
She waited. A few minutes later, John Noa himself hurried up toward her. His face was creased in a frown and his eyes were full of concern.
“Letta?” he said. “Is everything all right?”
She forced a smile. “Yes, of course,” she said. “I am so sorry to bother you again, but you did say if I needed to talk to you…and I was worried about Amelia.”
“Amelia is much better today, thank you. Now come with me and we can talk in private.”
Letta tried to keep her mind blank as she followed him down the corridor to where it swung right and past two closed doors: one marked Laboratory, the other wordless. Finally, he came to his own study door. He opened it, and Letta could see the huge desk and the chair behind it. Another two chairs stood on the far side. On the desk itself there was very little, and Letta’s heart sank when she saw how tidy the room was. She had imagined mounds of papers and files that would give her a hope of finding something useful.
“How can I help you, Letta?” said John Noa, sitting now behind his desk and looking at her, giving her his full attention.
She sat down opposite him.
“I came here yesterday to ask you if you might consider adding some words to the new List.”
She watched as the dark eyes clouded over. He sat back in his chair.
“New words?” he repeated. “I’m not sure what you mean. Our aim is to curtail the use of language. As you know, throwing words around is quite irresponsible, considering our history. What did you have in mind?”
“Nothing too radical.” Letta smiled at him. “I thought maybe we could introduce one new word. A word like ‘hope’ perhaps?”
John Noa smiled. “Hope?”
“Yes,” Letta said. “I think it is a fairly harmless word, but it acknowledges that people do hope and—”
“Harmless?” His voice cut across her well-prepared speech. “You think that ‘hope’ is a harmless word? I’m afraid I would disagree with you there, child.”
“Would you?” Letta said, assuming a puzzled expression. “May I ask why?”
Noa nodded. “Hope looks to the future, does it not? We hope for things that we don’t have now but wish to have someday. And that is what makes humans greedy, Letta. We are the only beings on this planet that refuse to live in the present. We were always looking for something else. A faster way to travel, a cheaper food to eat, a better song to sing. Do the deer that you live beside think like that, Letta? Do the cows or the birds? No. Only man.”
“I never thought of it like that,” Letta said.
Noa stood up. “Of course you didn’t, Letta. You are too young, and you have always lived in a time of peace. My experience, I’m afraid, is very different.”
He came out from behind the desk and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Hope is a lovely word,” he said. “A relic from another time, but it’s not practical, Letta, and it sends out the wrong message. Here in Ark, we don’t hope. We do.”
Letta nodded. “I see,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand. I have wasted your time.” She bowed her head, hoping she looked suitably humble.
John Noa patted her shoulder. “You did not waste my time, Letta. You are the wordsmith now. You have things to learn, and I am happy to teach you. You are always welcome here.”
“Thank you,” Letta said.
“I will see you out,” Noa said. “I have a meeting and—”
“No, please,” Letta protested. “I know the way, and I have taken enough of your time.”
John Noa nodded. “Very well then,” he said. “If you are sure?”
“Perfectly,” Letta replied and turned quickly, heading for the door.
She walked down the corridor, not looking back. There was no one around, though she could hear voices coming from somewhere above her. The second door she passed was open. Letta stopped and looked inside. She looked over her shoulder and then into the room again. A laboratory, she thought, slipping inside and closing the door behind her. The walls were dyed white and the room had only one window, a narrow opening with a wide sill on the inside. One wall of the room was lined with capacious tin vats. Letta approached the nearest one cautiously. The vat was full of water, and in the water, she could see pulped paper, thick and stodgy, congealing in clumps. Curious now, she fished some of it out. She held the sodden paper for a moment, and she could see that it had once been written on and still had streaks of red ink running through it. And then she saw it. A piece of paper still intact clinging to the side of the vat. Carefully, she peeled it off. The letters were already blurred, but Letta knew what it said.
Future: A time yet to
“Come,” Letta said softly. “A time yet to come.”
With a rush, she understood what was happening here in this sterile room. Noa was destroying words, recycling the small cards, pulping them to make new paper. The words that Benjamin had collected. The words that Letta had transcribed. Tears pricked her eyes. Why? Why had he charged them with the task of finding every remaining word if he had always intend
ed to destroy them?
Nothing wasted, nothing lost. That was what Noa preached. And she had believed him.
She felt as though all the air had been sucked from the room. They had not been saving words for a time when man could be trusted with them. They had been destroying what was left of language.
She got up and went back to the door, opening it slightly. She felt less trapped with the door open. The walls were closing in on her. She had to forget what she had just seen and concentrate instead on her mission.
Someone was coming. She pressed her body against the wall. She could make out John Noa’s voice and one other, also male. She held her breath as they passed within inches of her.
“That is your responsibility then,” Noa said.
“Yes, sir,” the other man replied, and they were gone.
Letta waited until the sound of their footsteps had totally disappeared. She counted to ten in her head and then another ten. She peeped through the crack in the door. All seemed quiet. She opened the door and surveyed the corridor. There was no sign of Noa or anyone else.
As quickly as she could, she scampered out the door and back to Noa’s office, all the time waiting for the voice that would halt her in her tracks. The door to the office was closed. She grasped the cool metal handle and turned it. The door opened. The office was empty. Now! the voice in her head screamed. She crossed the floor quickly and stood behind the desk. There was only one pile of papers. She flitted through them, trying to ignore the shake in her hand. Orders for the harvesting of wheat. Results from the laboratory. A list of names. She scanned it quickly. No sign of Benjamin’s name. She had reached the end of the pile when she heard the approaching voices. Two of them. Both men. Noa almost certainly. Letta looked around the room, trying to subdue the wave of panic rising in her chest. Under the desk. It was her only hope. The desk was old-fashioned, closed on three sides, made of heavy, dark wood. She threw herself to the ground, pushing her body into the farthest recess of the desk, arms wrapped around her knees. Then she heard the door open.
“Well done, Len. That was a job well done.”
Noa.
She heard the footsteps crossing the floor, the chair being pulled out, and then his feet were inches from her body. She tried to make herself smaller, straining away from him. Her heart was beating so loudly, she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t hear it.
Noa sighed. “I am glad you have decided to come with us, Len. The scientists are convinced it will work—and it is both quick and painless. Nonetheless, we will need good men like yourself to make sure it all runs smoothly.”
“Yes, sir,” the other man said. Letta didn’t recognize the voice. There was silence for a moment.
“I wish it could have been otherwise.” Noa’s voice again. “But man is a parasite now, nothing more. We have to deal with the situation we find ourselves in. And I have found a solution. Many favor extinction, but I do not think that is the answer, my friend. Nature abhors a vacuum.”
The other man coughed, a small apologetic cough as though he only spoke with great reluctance.
“About the wordsmith, sir—”
Letta felt the blood of her body go cold. Noa was talking. She forced herself to concentrate.
“Benjamin and I go back a long way. I never thought he would betray me.”
The other man muttered something Letta didn’t catch.
Noa stretched his legs under the desk. Letta cowered away from them. Please. Don’t touch me. His shoes almost brushed her leg. She could feel the heat from his body, smell his sweat. She heard the other man’s chair scrape on the floor as he stood up.
“I’ll leave the orders for you to sign, sir.”
“Yes,” Noa said. “Thank you.”
Letta heard the second man walk across the floor. The door opened and closed. Noa pulled his feet back in. Letta breathed a little easier. She didn’t know how long he sat there, but to her, it seemed like hours. Her right foot had fallen asleep, and she couldn’t feel it at all. She wanted to massage it but was afraid to move. It reminded her of the cave she used to play in as a child. A small cramped space that smelled of moss and wild flowers. She closed her eyes and tried to stay in that place, to distract herself from the terror she was feeling. If Noa found her, she knew there would be no hope of mercy. As the minutes ticked by, she tried to hold the image of the cave in her head. She remembered the sound of the small stream that flowed past it on its way to the sea. These were the days when she had learned the names of the wild flowers. Maybe if she concentrated, she could still remember them. Noa coughed.
Bluebell, crocus, primrose, cowslip…
She pulled her knees closer to her chest.
Dandelion, mouse-ear, angelica, nettle…
Noa stood up. She heard him cross the floor. The door opened and closed. Letta was too afraid to move. What if it was a trick? She chided herself for being ridiculous. If he knew she was there, he would have confronted her. She rubbed her foot and felt shoots of pain as the blood started to flow again.
Then she crawled out. She put her feet under her, but she had to cling to the desk in order to stand. She was alone. She almost cried with relief. Then she remembered.
I’ll leave the orders for you to sign.
She saw at once that there was a new stack of papers on the desk. The first page had to do with food supplies. The next was a register from Mrs. Truckle, listing all her new pupils. And then she saw it. Benjamin Lazlo. She held her breath, scanning it as quickly as she could.
This evening, midnight, South Gate.
Her heart soared. She knew where they would leave from. Underneath that were details of the men who would guard him.
Timilty, Rudder.
Finally, she saw the word banish.
She replaced the page carefully.
She had to get out of here. She had two choices. The window or the door. She hurried to the window. Outside was a sheer drop. Not an option. It had to be the door. She pressed her ear against it and listened. She couldn’t hear anything.
Maybe she could go back to the laboratory. Anywhere would be safer than here. She opened the door carefully. A woman’s voice sounded somewhere down the corridor.
“Bring down here! Come now.”
Letta closed the door, her heart thumping. She could hear the woman coming closer. Then the voices disappeared. They had obviously gone into a room. Letta bit her lip. She had to get out of this office. She opened the door again.
She stepped out onto the corridor and started to walk. It felt like she was walking on a tightrope, waiting for the moment when she would lose her balance and fall. She hurried on. She could see the front door. Just a few more strides. She turned the heavy knob and pulled. The door fell open. She hurried out, pulling it closed behind her, and headed for the gate. She looked over her shoulder. Still nothing. Quickly, she found the steps and started her descent. It wasn’t as easy as the last time she had climbed down. Darkness had fallen and the wind had risen again, howling around her, blowing her hair into her eyes.
The South Gate.
Midnight.
That gave them a real chance. Once more, hope swelled in her heart. She would see Benjamin tonight. No matter how badly injured he was, she would nurse him back to health. Despite the cold, she felt a faint glow of happiness. When she finally got off the stone steps, she walked as quickly as she could toward home, conscious of time slipping by.
She had to talk to Finn. They had to get ready for the night ahead.
• • •
He couldn’t settle. His limbs felt like they had a life of their own. He had told Amelia he needed air, but it was silence he craved.
He stood on the beach looking out at the sea. Benjamin haunted him at every turn. They had been such good friends. Neither one of them was a scientist, but they had been passionate about the environment. They had
both been laughed at, ridiculed for their doom-laden prophecies, but they had stood together, shoulder to shoulder.
Benjamin had written stirring articles, using his mastery of words to try to wake people from their fug of complacency. It was Benjamin who had led the final campaign against the oil companies when they rushed to grab the oil and precious minerals from the polar caps after the ice had melted and left them vulnerable to an attack from man.
And yet.
Even Benjamin would not see things through. He would not cross the final hurdle with him. He did not see that man had no further use as he was presently constructed. Language was what made him different. Language was also what made him arrogant. Man, after all, was only a newcomer here on Earth. He would soon be forgotten, though it would take thousands of years to repair the damage he had caused. What was thousands of years to the universe? Nothing. It would pass like seconds. Nature would shake herself and get ready for the next species to gain dominance. Like the dinosaur, man would be as nothing. Unlike the dinosaur, he would still exist, wordless, tame, and in harmony with his fellow creatures. Without words, he would never again be dominant. Nothing wasted, nothing lost.
If only Benjamin could have understood that. The cold crept into his bones. He was lonely. So many of his friends were gone. He still had Amelia though. She was his soul mate, the one he turned to when he couldn’t bear his life a second longer.
A wave washed in near his feet, wetting his shoe, then slouched away again. He had met her on a beach on a bright summer day before he had understood how bad things would get. She had been so young, so innocent, and he had fallen in love. He had been in love ever since.
He sighed and turned away from the sea and headed home. He would talk it through with her again, the entire plan, though he was sure he was doing the right thing. Amelia was logical; she would point out any flaws. He couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong. Amelia would help him. She was the only one who truly understood him. She was the only one who would stand by him until the end. Of that he was certain.
The List Page 13
