Fervor

by Chantal Boudreau

  As Nathan rushed past Sam, breakfast in hand, Sam noticed a problem that he had not paid any attention to before. Sarah and Sam had been borrowing some of the Bigs clothing, which fit comfortably, but the Bigs had been forced to continue to wear their own clothing, since Elliot had not been able to get into the hover to offer any spare garb that he had brought along. Nathan’s looser fitting tunics and pants were just barely sufficient to accommodate Francis, fitting snugly on the average-sized man. Nathan on the other hand was wearing odd-fitting items that Sarah had cut and re-sewn. She was a Fixer, but this was more a case of fabrication rather than repair, and in this respect, the petite girl was not as skilled. As a result, the Watcher looked like a patch-work quilt of neutral tones and varying textures. And then there was the issue of footwear.

  Cobbling larger boots from smaller ones was not a feasible option without the proper equipment, and Nathan had resorted to slicing open his boots towards the toe and taping over the ends with heavy duty work tape where his feet protruded. It was definitely only a temporary solution, and Nathan had been forced to carry the tape with him, replenishing what had been applied to his footwear en route, as it occasionally failed him. Sam offered to keep an eye out, in case any of the minders or teachers had left something behind that would prove to be a better fit.

  Nathan gave Sam an exhilarated smile, without actually looking at him. He opened the front door. “I think I’ve convinced Fiona to finally join us for supper tonight,” he remarked happily. “We’ll be all together, like a real family again. She knows all about the hover. She’s anxious to see it fixed so that we can leave here. She’s really excited.”

  Sarah had been accommodating Fiona’s wishes to avoid the others and had been bringing the young woman her meals in her room. She did not need to join them for supper. If she had agreed to do so, it suggested that she was finally coming to terms with her transformation and was willing, perhaps, to adjust to it.

  His feet barely touching the stairs, Nathan skipped down the front steps and loped joyfully off on his circuit. Sam closed the door behind him and turned back to see Francis standing there wearing a perplexed expression. Before Sam could say anything, he shrugged and made for the kitchen from which Sarah and Elliot were emerging.

  “Time to do some finding, Sam,” the technician stated, gesturing towards the door with paper in hand.

  Sarah did not look ready to go anywhere. Sam frowned.

  “I thought you were coming with us?”

  She glanced back towards the kitchen before answering.

  “I helped Elliot write up the list. You don’t really need me with you, and I don’t want to get in the way.”

  There was a nervous tremor to her thoughts. Sam could tell that she was anxious again, and still yearning to fix something that she felt was beyond her reach.

  “You can’t say that for sure. Who knows what I’ll find, and what state I’ll find it in. We could very well need your help. Besides, you agreed to come with us last night. You agreed that there isn’t much that you can do here right now. You know how important getting this hover fixed is to us. Please, Sarah,” Sam thought plaintively.

  “I...” she began, hesitating as some internal struggle ensued. She clenched her eyes shut, and then moments later seemed to give in. “Alright, give me a couple of seconds.”

  The petite girl dashed over to her room and disappeared from view. Elliot watched her go with a hint of interest as Sam took the paper from him and scanned the list written upon it.

  “What’s bothering her?” the large man asked the Finder.

  “Something about chips and cracks in windshields,” Sam replied evasively. “I think she’s worried that Fiona is not the only one who isn’t handling the transition well. This isn’t a new thing for Sarah, Elliot. She started behaving this way after Royce left – it’s just that it has gotten a little worse, that’s all. I think she just needs to get out of the house more. It’s making her a little stir-crazy.”

  The technician looked a little relieved at this. “She started acting like this before I got here, and it has only gotten a little worse? That’s okay then. If you see any drastic changes in anyone, you’ll let me know, right? I wasn’t sure what effect the Languorite was going to have on all of you, and I don’t want any repetition of what happened with the Bigs’ parents. I was worried about Fiona at first until I had the chance to get in and talk to her. Her problems didn’t run that deep, and she let Sarah do what she could for her. At that point I was fairly certain that Fiona’s situation wasn’t all that serious. Some disabling insecurities and a bit of drama, but for the most part harmless. Not that I would expect there to be any show of trouble at this point if it hadn’t manifested yet.”

  “To be honest with you, I wouldn’t recognize anything like that in the others with all the chaos that has been going on around here,” Sam conceded. “Nathan is all tangled up in the directions that Francis has placed in his head, and Francis is upset with Fiona and the way that she has been treating him from the start. Not that he seems to be holding it against her, really. I think that if we can just get that hover repaired and get going, everything will sort itself out.”

  This was when Sarah reappeared from her room, dressed and ready to go. Sam seized on the opportunity and, grabbing her by the hand before she had the chance to change her mind, he pulled her out of the house after him.

  “Come on, Elliot!” he called over his shoulder. “I think that I may have a lead on something!”

  Sam followed his instincts with Sarah closely in tow, circling around first of all to the old hover where Fiona had once hidden the burly man’s messages. Elliot crouched by the abandoned vehicle and started stripping away anything that was potentially useful. Sam and Sarah sat back a short distance, watching him as he worked.

  “I won’t be able to get everything I need that’s salvageable from this. We will have to come back here after we have found some of those tools on our list. I need them in order to actually retrieve some of those items. I managed to gather a few all purpose tools from the house, but anything specific to working on the hovers, if they were left behind, would likely be found in the garages,” the technician grunted as he leaned awkwardly around the edge of the hover.

  “No – none of the minders had any clue about maintaining or repairing the hovers,” Sam corrected. “If there’s any hope of finding those tools, we’ll have to go to one of the schools. It had been left up to the teachers to keep them in operational condition.”

  “What?” Sarah said with a hint of fear. “We’ll have to go through the spaces of at least three of the other house-families. What if they see us? And we won’t be able to follow you in. It’s against the Directives.”

  Elliot paused and glanced over at her sternly. “If you want me to repair that hover, I need those tools. I’ll be having to make enough compromises with regards to parts and materials. It will be impossible if you are expecting me to work empty-handed. We’ll have to take our chances with the other house-families, and I guess it’s time to test out the other functions of the Languorite…see if we can override those Directives. I’ll be back.”

  He clambered to his feet, and headed into the house.

  “You and I are okay,” Sam assured her, once they were alone. “Although they may start asking questions about why we have strayed from our designated space – we just have to make sure that they don’t see Elliot. We won’t be able to explain him away, no matter what story we come up with as to why you and I happen to be there. They’ll assume we’re Bigs, and we’ll have to run with that.”

  Sam actually liked the idea of leaving the space that they had been practically imprisoned in for the last five years. He looked forward to the idea of having the opportunity to scavenge at a school. Sarah did not appear to be nearly as pleased with the idea.

  Elliot returned a few moments later with the Languorite in hand.

  “Pray that I can make this work,” he murmured, pointing the device first at
Sam. “I’m going to try to limit it to the compulsions from the Tellers, but I can’t make any guarantees. I certainly don’t want to strip you of your gifts right now. We still need them.”

  There was painful flash of multi-coloured light, and Sam felt a slight tingle to his skin and a temporary fogging of his thoughts, but those were the only signs to suggest that it had worked. Elliot then repeated the process with Sarah. Once again, from all outward appearances, nothing had changed. The success of the technician’s efforts would be tested soon enough. He returned the Languorite to the house, and then set his sights on the old hover once again.

  The pair observed Elliot’s tinkering in silence for a while, considering possible cover stories to offer other children if they happened to have any encounters, before Sam found himself lost in other thoughts. The talk of them passing themselves off as Bigs brought his focus around to the idea of the Littles versus the Bigs again, and the missing information that Elliot had denied him twice already. It niggled at him, like a fly buzzing about his head. He hoped that this was a sign that his gift had remained untouched, his curiosity burning in the pit of his stomach as fiercely as ever.

  “Why don’t you think that we’re ready, Elliot?” he pushed very lightly at the technician. “What is it about our parentage that you find disturbing? If it makes a difference as to how much you’ll tell us, Francis already suggested that we were somehow made to be what we are, even though Fiona tried to suggest that this wouldn’t have been possible. I think we deserve a straight answer.”

  Sarah gave him a nudge, and shook her head disapprovingly as Elliot lifted his head to centre on the Finder with a disconcerted stare.

  “I don’t think you would really want to hear the truth, and I can’t predict how you or the Bigs will react. I will say that Francis is right, and Fiona is wrong. You were designed to be what you are. The scholars tailored you to fill perceived gaps – the ones that the Controls could not fill properly,” he admitted, directing his attention back to his work, specifically so that he would not have to make eye contact with the two children as he spoke.

  “You mean the way that we were raised and our education?” Sarah asked.

  “No,” Elliot mumbled. “More than just that.”

  He was growing tense and as he tried to remove a part with one of the household tools that he had brought with him it slipped, twisting in his hand and the sudden movement resulted in the technician gashing his thumb open against a sharper edge. He cursed and he shook the offending digit, which immediately began to drip blood. Sarah moved quickly forward to help him, her Fixer compulsion kicking in.

  “Our parents, then? They were selected more carefully than they were for the Bigs?” Sam demanded.

  Elliot hissed in pain, allowing Sarah to take the injured hand. She set about fixing it right away.

  “I don’t want to talk about this right now. Just let me do my work. You’ll get your answers when I’m good and ready to give them,” the technician protested, relaxing slightly as Sarah’s efforts drew some of the pain away.

  Sarah and Sam talked quietly between themselves as Elliot continued to pull pieces of the old hover. They decided that if they encountered anyone in the other house-family spaces that they would have to traverse, their story would be that they were searching for a necessary part required to repair a needed device. They would be referring to Elliot’s hover, but they would be hoping that anyone asking might jump to some other conclusion. If they were lucky, the questioner might assume that they meant a part for some kitchen appliance, such as the cooking implement. This would not be a find that they would be able to locate in their own space, and ought to be explanation enough as to why they would need to stray outside of their boundaries. This plan was far from fool-proof, leaving a lot to chance and to the interpretation of the person with whom they would be speaking.

  When Elliot had accomplished what he could, they set off toward the closest school. In addition to the necessary tools for the hover, Sam hoped that they might find some adult-sized clothing there, left behind by their teachers, particularly footwear. Anything even somewhat snug would be better than what Nathan was making do with at the moment.

  Just as they feared, on their way trespassing through the second house-family’s space, Sam felt the familiar mental prodding that suggested someone recognized that they were there. Giving Elliot an abrupt shove into the bushes, Sam threw his walls up around the ill-prepared adult. The Finder knew that anyone searching would push through the man’s paper-thin walls with little effort. Throwing up his guard to protect Elliot from scrutiny might draw some suspicion from anyone that they happened to encounter, but it was their only option.

  Within seconds, a wiry Little, with strawberry blond hair and freckles, rounded the corner along the pathway that they had been crossing. He looked up at them with some surprise, his pale blue eyes also displaying some excitement.

  “Who are you?” the thin boy demanded. He did not bother with any pleasantries. “Or better yet, what are you, and why are you here?”

  “I’m Sam, and this is Sarah. I’m a Finder,” Sam said. “We’re sorry for the trespass, but it was unavoidable. We needed parts for one of our devices that made leaving our space necessary. We’re only passing through, and we won’t disturb anything here.”

  The strange Little’s eyes narrowed for a moment as he looked them both up and down.

  “She must be your Keeper then, eh? My name’s Julius and I’m a Finder, too. I heard that there were some Big Finders out there, but you are the only one that I’ve met. Don’t worry about crossing over. I’ve had to do it a few times myself. That’s how I met Cynthia and Jerome. They’re Finders near here, too, but they are both Littles like me.”

  Sam was trying to do the math in his head. There were only fifty Littles, from what he had learned, and three hundred children altogether. That meant that if the Littles were evenly distributed amongst the house-families, there would be one per group. Since he and Sarah had both been Littles, it was clear that this had not been the case. That meant that some groups would not have any Littles whatsoever, perhaps in the case where their Big Finders and/or Fixers had proven to be sufficiently strong. Then again, it was hard to predict the scholars’ rationale behind any of this. Perhaps the Littles had been purposefully concentrated in an area. There was no way of knowing for sure, not unless Elliot’s information gathering had offered some insight that he just had not gotten around to sharing yet.

  “Well, we’re still sorry for the intrusion, Julius,” Sam offered. “It was nice to meet you, and we’ll try not to make it a habit.”

  “Just promise me you’ll be as forgiving if the tables are ever turned, and if so, then we’re good. It’s nice to meet a Big outside of my house-family as friendly as you. Some of the Bigs around here are pretty surly,” the smaller Finder chuckled. Sam couldn’t help but wonder if Julius had had a run-in with Royce or any of his friends. He also wondered if the boy might be referring to his own Control.

  “If it’s up to me, you’ll always be welcome in our space.”

  Sam had meant it when he had said it, but realized a few seconds later that Julius wandering freely through their space could quickly prove to be problematic, particularly if he laid eyes on Elliot, any of the Bigs, or Elliot’s hover.

  “I wouldn’t go at the moment, however,” Sarah chimed in, giving Sam a chastising nudge. “Some members of our house-family are not feeling their regular selves. It would probably be best to keep your distance for now.”

  There had been no signs of illness in the children since they had been abandoned on Fervor, and it was likely that the Fixer would be able to resolve any health issues that arose, but for the moment that theory remained untested. Her words seemed to be enough of a deterrence.

  “I’ll keep that in mind, and consider myself warned,” Julius assured her. “I don’t foresee the need happening soon, but in the future I may take you up on your offer. I’ll see you both around. I’ve got som
e errands to run. I’m sure you understand.”

  Sam nodded, and the Little set off down the path again. They waited until he was out of sight, and his walls seemed to be quite solid again. Sam kept his walls up around Elliot, letting Sarah in instead.

  “Well that proves one thing – the stasis is still up around here,” Sam remarked. “Obviously, that effect of the Languorite doesn’t extend beyond the limits of our space. If it had, there would be nobody like Julius around here.”

  “You have to be more careful, Sam. We can’t be inviting others into our space. It’s too dangerous,” Sarah chided.

  “What else was I supposed to do? He had just caught us in his space and he was being gracious about it. I couldn’t exactly refuse him, now, could I,” the Finder retorted. The two had rarely argued, but the tension of the moment had been weighing heavily on both of them.

  “No harm done,” Elliot intervened. “The crisis was averted and we don’t have time to spare for bickering. Point me the way to that school.”

  The remainder of the trek was uneventful, although Sam kept his walls up around the ghostly presence of the technician in the connection, just to be on the safe side, until they had arrived.

  The school looked much the worse for the wear, the result of years of disuse. It had been a very plain building to begin with, just like the majority of the buildings on Fervor. Now it looked ragged around the edges, where the storms had dislodged siding and roof shingles, and on one occasion, had forced a large broken tree branch into one of the windows, shattering it in the process. There were no signs of life, and certainly no evidence of upkeep. It disheartened Sam to see it that way, remembering the productive, and sometimes joyful, days that he had spent there. Elliot pushed his way past some of the overgrown shrubbery to the front door.

  “I was expecting to have to disable the lock, but someone has seen to that for us,” he observed. “Of course, my method would have left it intact. Whoever did this didn’t much care.”