by Rae Thomas
Beck jumps in, “Yeah, that was a big mistake. They don’t cut off water to these buildings on purpose. They figure people like us will be desperate for a drink, so we won’t have a choice but to use the faucets in the home units. They never thought we’d be smart enough to catch it straight from the pipes.” She grins mischievously. “Mother and I, we’ve got it all figured out.”
David must look as confused as I feel, because Elena begins to explain, “They leave the water on as a trap. If they see a draw on the supply coming from one of the home units, they’ll find you in minutes. You won’t even know they’re coming.” It was simply luck that David and I had not used the water in our unit. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“You seem to know a lot about hiding; how long have you been doing this?” David asks.
A shadow crosses Elena’s face. “It’s been almost a full rotation now.”
A full rotation? David and I exchange concerned looks. How can someone live like this for such a long time? How can someone expect a child to adapt to this type of environment?
Elena is defensive. “I know what you’re thinking, all right? We don’t have a choice. We don’t have anyone who will help us. The Vox will kill us if they find us.”
I am ashamed for having judged Elena. Of course she does not want this life for Beck. She doesn’t have another option. David and I are in the same situation ourselves.
“I’m sorry. I won’t presume to understand what you’ve been through. We’ve only been doing this for a couple of days.”
David says softly, “If you don’t mind me asking, what have you been through? What crime did you commit that made you run?”
Elena’s face twists with disgust. “Crime? You don’t have to commit a crime here to be punished. I think you know that.”
We remain silent, waiting to see if she will tell us. Beck, who has been reapplying her camouflage, suddenly becomes aware of our conversation. “Us? We’re renegades! We want representation! We’ll never let them take us alive!” As she says this, she jumps up and lifts the sleeve of her oversized sweater. She shoves her forearm toward David and me. Drawn using the same muddy water as her camouflage is the symbol of interlocking diamonds. The same symbol that my mother had tattooed on her inner wrist. I absentmindedly clutch my father’s pocket watch.
David is the first to speak. “What is that symbol?”
Elena is suddenly furious. She grabs Beck by the arm. “Wash that off right now. We will not have this discussion. I don’t ever want to see that symbol again.”
Beck is defiant. “My father wore this symbol.”
“They left your father to die, Rebecca. He gave them everything he had, and they left him. You can honor your father by believing what he believed, but we will have nothing to do with those people. Now go wash it off.”
Beck does as her mother instructs. Elena turns to us and sighs. The anger is gone; only heartache remains. “My husband Aaron was a member of a group called The Third Stone. That is their symbol. They fight for equality. They fight for reform. They fight for a voice in our government. Despite the fact that The Third Stone is a non-violent activist group, they have been labeled a terrorist organization by The Sententia. The Sententia will not tolerate being questioned.”
My mother was a member of a radical activist group? My father had certainly never mentioned that. It’s a wonder that they fell in love; my father worked for the very organization that my mother sought to reform.
Elena continues, “Before we went into hiding, Aaron organized a protest outside of Vox headquarters. The Third Stone had never held such a public demonstration before, but Aaron was sure that if we could show The Sententia how the people really felt, they would allow us to be represented on the council. That particular day, The Third Stone would protest the use of Earth Banishment as a punishment for crimes. This sentence was viewed as too harsh; it did not give the convicted the opportunity to be rehabilitated.”
I look at David. Earth Banishment?
David knows my question before I have to ask. “Violet, sometimes, The Sententia decides that a person’s crime is too severe for a labor sentence, but an execution is too private. Sometimes, they want to make an example. If The Sententia feels that a person acted with malice to the government, that person is sentenced to Earth Banishment.”
My mind is reeling. David was right. Dread and Fear. To remind us that they brought us here, and they can send us back.
My voice is quiet when I speak. “What happened to him, Elena?”
“Aaron was leading the protest. They had only been demonstrating for a few minutes before they were surrounded. The Vox did not give them a chance to disperse. They were not given the opportunity to go quietly. The protestors were overtaken physically. They did not fight. They did not resist. They were taken into the headquarters, and they did not come out.
“Outside of Vox headquarters, there is a large platform that stands only a few inches above the street. In the center of the platform is a statue, a towering stone replica of their symbol.” My mind recalls the Inspector who came for me at Nineteen. The patch on his sleeve bore the symbol that Elena speaks of, the V with two orbs. Elena continues. “The next day, my husband sat on that platform. Around his ankle was a shackle that led to a chain bolted to the base of the monument. The chain was long enough for Aaron to move about six feet in any direction, but he could not reach the edge. Positioned next to the monument was a small table, and on that table was a single pill. A giant placard labeled him a criminal. His crime was treason, and his sentence was death.
“It was decided that my husband would die, but he was given a choice: take the pill and surrender, or suffer with his pride intact. Aaron did not take the pill. He refused to give them the satisfaction.
“On the second day, a woman approached the platform with a bowl of water. A guard stepped between her and the stage. He did not try to stop her with force. He said only, ‘Give it to him and you’ll join him.’ The woman remained standing there for several moments. She looked from the guard to the stage and then back again. Slowly, defeated, she lowered the hand that held the bowl, spilling its contents onto the street.
“After that, people just walked by as if Aaron was not there. He never cried. He never begged. He never apologized. And no one, no one from The Third Stone ever came to his aid. They stood among the onlookers. They watched him die. But they never stepped forward.”
The pain that she feels is no longer confined to her voice. Elena cries as she finishes the story. Beck sits at her mother’s feet, holding her hand. “It took him six days to die. For six days, my husband remained silent. He sat in clothes soiled by his own waste. He felt his body fail him. He watched everyone in Summus walk by as if he was not sitting there dying. On the evening of the sixth day, he lay down on the platform and he closed his eyes. The next morning, to be sure that he was dead, one of The Vox shot him in the head. His body was removed, and we never saw him again.”
“You never heard from The Third Stone?” It is David who speaks. I am too sickened to formulate words.
“Oh, we heard from them. They came to Beck and me that morning. They told us that The Vox would come for us; it’s no good to have family members of executed criminals stirring up dissent with their grief. They told us that we had to disappear. They offered us a place with them, but I refused. They see my husband as a martyr for their cause. They don’t see him as an individual; to them he was a necessary casualty. I don’t want to be part of this battle anymore. Haven’t we lost enough?”
We are all silent. Elena and Beck have lost more than enough.
Finally, I speak. “What happened to the other arrested protestors?”
“Banished. Sent to Earth on the very transport that they were protesting.”
David responds, “Some say Earth Banishment is a fate worse than execution.”
Elena meets his gaze and responds coldly, “I’d invite anyone who says that to suffer my husband’s death.”
With that, this conversation is over.
* * *
Elena has told us that we can stay here with them, but I want to leave as soon as possible. I have put enough people in danger, and Elena has already endured more pain than anyone should. When we settle on a laundry heap to go to sleep, David pulls my body close to his, and I rest my head in the crook of his arm. I pull my father’s watch from my pocket and press the latch. The door swings open, and I tilt the watch toward David so he can see the photograph inside.
“It belonged to my father.”
“Is that your mother?”
“Yes. She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”
David nods and hugs me to him.
I smile sadly. “I look more like my father.”
David places his bent index finger beneath my chin and tilts my head up so he can make eye contact with me. “Violet, you’re the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen.”
Yesterday, I wanted nothing more than to hear these words. I wanted nothing more than confirmation that David has the same romantic feelings for me that I have for him. But tonight as he looks into my eyes and says everything that I want to hear, I can’t help but wonder, Did you betray me? Did you give my sketchbook to The Alter?
That discussion will have to wait for another time and place. I shift the conversation back to my mother’s photograph. “David, look at her wrist.”
He squints in the semi-darkness to see the detail of the photograph. “That’s the symbol Beck drew on her arm,” David whispers.
I nod. “The symbol for The Third Stone.”
David is silent for a moment. I can tell he’s thinking. “Violet, if your mother was involved with these people, and we know that your father defected from The Vox at some point, maybe they’d have some information about what your father was doing. Maybe they can even help us. One thing’s for sure, we’ve got to find this artifact before The Vox does.”
I nod in agreement. “I was thinking exactly the same thing.”
“Should we ask Elena? She’s not involved with The Third Stone, but I bet she could take us to them.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think we should involve Elena. She’s been through enough. Besides, she probably wouldn’t tell us anything anyway. It’s clear how much she hates them.”
“Come on, Violet. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow, but we can’t afford to pass up any leads.”
I hate to admit it, but David is right. At this point, I have no idea what we should do next. Elena may be our only chance to find The Third Stone.
When we wake up, Elena has already heated some stew for breakfast. I’m surprised at how hungry I am. David is just as excited. “It feels like it’s been forever since I had some real food! How did you get this? I could hardly scrounge up some stale bread and moldy cheese when I went looking before.”
Elena smiles. “Well, don’t get too excited. It’s preserved. Beck and I found some non-perishables that were forgotten in a few of the units. We’ve got enough food to last us awhile. Here, put a few of these jars in your bag… Who knows how long it will be before you come across anything.”
I hug her. “Elena, thank you so much for everything. Good fortune to you both.” She nods. As I turn to hug Beck goodbye, I hear David begin to speak.
He says, “Elena, there’s one more thing. Can you tell us how to find The Third Stone?”
I turn just in time to see Elena’s smile disappear. Her face hardens and just before she turns her back on us, I hear her say, “Follow the symbol.”
Ten
I am sorry to have alienated Elena, but it was our only option. The Third Stone is the only connection we have found, and we must pursue it. Her clue is not of much help, though. David and I have no choice but to walk the streets of Summus in the hopes of finding a trail of symbols.
After hiding in the apartment building for the last few days, I find walking around in the open to be very uncomfortable. My uneasiness must show, because David says, “Violet, stop acting so suspicious. Just act natural and no one will give us a second look.” I make a concerted effort to relax. I try to take in the grandeur of Summus. A month ago, I might have been elated to be in this very place. Walking around this gigantic city holding hands with David would have been my dream come true. I guess a lot changes when you’re an escapee suspected of hiding priceless pieces of alien technology. Besides that, I’m still not sure how The Alter came to possess my sketchbook. Sometime, probably sooner rather than later, I’m going to have to confront David. For now, I just try to relax.
Around midmorning, David and I both begin to grow weary. We’ve been walking for miles, and still no sign of any symbols. In truth, Summus truly is something to behold. Every skyscraper is larger or more appealing than the one before. The sheer magnitude of these structures is enough to make me feel inconsequential. Despite all of this, I am glad I have no strong recollections of my time here. The pace here is too quick, and the proximity of all of these buildings is stifling. I like the open spaces of Eligo.
I do not fail to notice all of the propaganda that has been placed throughout the city by The Sententia. A city block does not go by without some type of poster or billboard extolling the benefits of our all-powerful high council. Many are like the one that I saw in Eligo. Sharply angled silhouettes of soldiers are illustrated with captions that read things like The Vox: The Voice of the People, or maybe The Vox: First to Protect. Others simply portray the symbol of The Vox. In some parts of the city, an audio track loops constantly, giving favorable statistics about life on Cerno. The voice is a female with an unnaturally cheerful inflection. As we pass, I hear her say, “Since the implementation of the Gilbert Griffin Graham Mental Aptitude Examination for Appropriate Placement of Youths, the unemployment rate on Cerno has been less than one percent…”
As we turn the corner, we come within a few feet of several V1’s. I tense up immediately, and David puts his arm around my shoulder in an effort to conceal my reaction. Luckily, the men are too busy with their task to notice me. They are working to repair a billboard that appears to have been vandalized. It was once emblazoned with the Vox emblem, the capital V with two orbs. However, this image has since been altered by someone, and The Vox is scurrying to correct it. An inverted capital V has been drawn on top of the other to create the shape of a diamond. Overlapping this diamond, another has been drawn, creating a third diamond in its center. The Third Stone.
The vandalism does not end there. Another orb has been added just above the other two. An arrow points to this third orb and a message that has been painted in deep red reads: Have you forgotten? David and I rush past; we don’t want to be seen showing interest in the perversion of a government symbol.
When we reach the next corner, I notice a man selling pamphlets. His facial hair is heavy and he wears a cap pulled almost all the way down to his brow. I attempt to walk past him without making eye contact, but he angles himself so that I cannot help but cross his path. He holds out a pamphlet. “Paper, miss?” His voice is raspy and deep. I begin to shake my head and smile apologetically until I notice something. He’s holding the booklet out to me, and I can see, just barely peeking out from the sleeve of his coat, the interlocking diamonds. This man is a member of The Third Stone. Wordlessly, I shake my head. Unsure of what to do, I hesitate before walking away. David stands beside me, waiting. He has seen it, too. The man sees me looking at his wrist and drops his hand. He catches my eye as he begins to speak. “You know, you look really familiar. Where have I seen you before?”
I shake my head. “No, this is my first time in Summus,” I lie.
He raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure? I’d bet money we’ve met.”
“No, I don’t think so. Like I said, I’ve never been here before.”
“Well, if you’re new in town that means you’ve never been to the market on Third. You’ll never taste a juicier orange, I guarantee it. You should stop by sometime.”
I nod, and he giv
es me a knowing look. “Make sure you go get some of those oranges. Tell them Gillis sent you.”
As quickly as our interaction began, it’s over. Gillis turns away from me and continues trying to sell pamphlets to passersby. David and I continue walking. I hear the audio track playing, but the cheerful voice is muffled until we walk a few more blocks. “Citizens of Cerno are lucky enough to be protected by our men and women in uniform, The Vox, whose shielding presence keeps us safe from harm around the clock… The crime rate on Cerno is exceptionally low due to…” We’ve passed out of range. David and I turn onto Third only to be greeted by a giant screen projecting images of Vox soldiers rescuing citizens, holding the hands of injured civilians, and posing for pictures with their arms around groups of children. The children cheer and look up at the soldiers admiringly. The film, like the audio track, continues on a loop after we pass.
Finally, we have come to the entrance to the market. The market is very simply constructed. Tables and booths have been erected in what was once an empty lot, so farmers and peddlers can sell their wares to Summus’s city dwellers. As we pass under a large banner that reads Third Street Market, David turns to me and says, “Violet, I’m sorry, I’ve got to rest. We’ve been walking all day and I feel like I’m about to collapse.”
As I take in his appearance, I feel guilty for not having noticed his fatigue earlier. David is red-faced, sweaty, and out of breath. I should have been paying more attention to him; I just didn’t want to stop walking. The excitement about having finally found a lead kept me trudging onward.
I notice a bench about halfway down the first aisle of vendors. “Look, David. There’s a place to sit down. Do you think you can make it that far?” He nods, and we walk the rest of the way silently. When we sit down, David leans his head back and breathes deeply. I’m sure my timing is not the best, but I want to talk to David before we reach the next phase of our journey. I am unsure how to begin, so I just look around at the market, thinking of what I should say.
