by Nora Olsen
Rubric buried her head in her hands.
“I mean, if my schatzie wasn’t against it, which I’m assuming you would be, based on what you’re doing right now, if you were my schatzie…” Salmon Jo trailed off.
At this moment, the chances of being Salmon Jo’s schatzie in future years seemed low.
“But we’re going back,” Rubric reminded her. “Right?”
“Right.”
“When?”
Salmon Jo sighed. “I don’t know. I’m really scared of the fence. Of dying. Don’t tell Dream, but she didn’t do me any favors, grabbing my hand when we crossed the fence. I think that made us into kind of a circuit, and the current flowed through us more.”
“Really? You never told me that. Maybe when you go back, then, everything will be fine!”
“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe not. It’s not the kind of gamble I like to take with my life. I’m working on another way to cross the fence. I’ve got a project going. But it might take a while.”
“A while?” Rubric rolled her eyes, and then realized Salmon Jo couldn’t see her in the dark. “What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know!” shouted Salmon Jo. “Why are you being so mean?”
“Because you’re just pretending that we’re going back someday,” Rubric said. “You like it here. And we’ll just stay here longer and longer. And then someday you’ll say, oh, my project didn’t work out, sorry.”
Rubric heard Salmon Jo swallowing loudly, a sure sign she was crying, or about to.
“What else is it that you want me to do? I do like it here. And I don’t know what there is for us at home except getting captured and treatment. We were incredibly lucky. But the Doctors won’t stay bumblingly incompetent forever, if we keep stealing all their Klons and trying to topple Society. It’s safer for us here. The only thing that motivates me to want to go back is you.” Her voice cracked, and now she was crying. “I thought you were getting to like it here.”
“Aha, so you admit it! You’re trying to stall me here forever.”
“No,” said Salmon Jo. “Well, maybe, in a way. You’re getting used to the Sons, you’re fond of Branknor, you’re going to make him puzzles. I thought maybe you found something that was meaningful for you.”
“Good gravy! Just because I don’t hate Branknor doesn’t mean I want to live out my days surrounded by Cretinous Males. And making puzzles? You really think I can find meaning in my life making toys for drooling Sons when the Klons are still enslaved? I am miserable here!”
“It’s not like you’ve even tried to fit in,” Salmon Jo said. “Have you thought about me for one second? I’ve dreamed all my life about studying the Sons. This is my big opportunity, and you’re all ‘Waah, waah, I don’t like picking apples. Let’s go.’ You just have a bad attitude.”
Rubric was infuriated. “I don’t have to have a good attitude. I can’t believe I fell for your lies. ‘Don’t worry, Rubric, we’re leaving, I promise.’ You know what? If you like the Cretinous Males so much, live with them forever! Give birth to one! What do I care? I don’t need a schatzie who lies to me, and tries to manipulate me, and doesn’t care how I feel. Get out, go sleep in the house. Go sleep with Theodorica. Go sleep with Branknor!”
Salmon Jo unzipped the tent and left without a word. Alone in the tent, Rubric cried herself to sleep. She shivered all night, from cold and from sadness.
The next morning, Dream came to visit Rubric. She told her she was going back home to free more Klons.
“People are too complacent,” Dream said. “They like to talk about rebellion while sitting in their rocking chairs by the fire. It’s nice here, but I can’t sit around doing sweet scheiss nothing. Prospect doesn’t want to go. But I told her I won’t be gone long. It’ll just be a quick trip, in and out. Help some Klons out, and be back before she knows it. A little raid. You want to come?”
“Yes,” Rubric said. “I’m like you. I can’t stand by while this is going on. Someone’s got to do something.”
And that was the way Rubric sold it to Salmon Jo. Her burning desire to help others and end slavery. It was hard for Salmon Jo to argue with such lofty motives. But Rubric didn’t even believe herself. If she looked inside her heart, was she really that noble? Maybe she just had a burning desire to get out of the Land of the Barbarous Ones, and never come back.
Chapter Twenty-three
It was just dawn, and everything was bathed in an unreal light. As much as Rubric hated the fence and the Land of the Barbarous Ones, she had to admit the desert surrounding the fence was beautiful. The black silhouette of the wall beyond the fence was melting into reds and yellows as the sunlight touched it.
“I’ll be back so soon,” Rubric promised for the millionth time. “Don’t worry.”
Salmon Jo didn’t say anything. They had said everything, over and over again. They held each other tightly, kissing tenderly, deeply. Rubric threaded her fingers through Salmon Jo’s coarse hair, caressing her head. She wanted this good-bye kiss to be enough, but it could never be enough. How could saying good-bye to Salmon Jo ever feel complete and acceptable?
Rubric and Salmon Jo had formally made up after their fight. But there was still a wedge between them. It was the only thing that made it possible for Rubric to leave her. Maybe if Salmon Jo had objected more strenuously, Rubric would have stayed. But Salmon Jo had accepted her decision meekly.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t build that rubber suit to cross the fence in,” Salmon Jo said finally.
“It’s okay,” Rubric said, stroking her earlobe. “You shouldn’t come. I don’t want you to have a seizure and die.”
Nearby, Dream and Prospect were embracing and murmuring their own farewells.
She couldn’t tell Salmon Jo this, but Rubric was looking forward to having adventures. She was proud of being one of the only ones willing to actually do anything about Society. And, of course, she was delighted to leave the Land of the Barbarous Ones.
“I could camp here and wait for you,” Salmon Jo suggested.
“Don’t do that,” Rubric said. “We could cross the fence anywhere. It might not be at Lvodz.”
Saying the last good-bye was the hardest part. Rubric kissed her favorite spot on Salmon Jo’s neck.
The next hardest part was running through the fence. Knowing what it would be like didn’t help much. Once again, every muscle, sinew, and bone in her body quivered in pain as she ran through the invisible fence. Her blood felt like it was sizzling, and her heart stuttered.
The third hardest part was the wall. This time, they had grappling hooks and a real rope ladder. But there was no Salmon Jo to help. It took them a long time to get over the wall. On the top of the wall, Rubric stood and waved both arms to Salmon Jo. Then Rubric felt light-headed, so she quickly jumped down.
The electric bikes were waiting right where they’d left them. The battery case had cracked on one, so they shared the other. They had planned this trip as carefully as they could, and their Klon-freeing mission had three parts. The first stop was just outside Iron City at a factory that processed eth fruits into ethanol. The Klon they planned to free was Salmon Jo’s Jeepie Similar, just as they had freed Dream, who was Rubric’s Jeepie Similar. It helped Rubric to justify the trip to herself.
The whole ride to Iron City, Rubric had a ringing in her ears from going through the fence. Mercifully, it had stopped by the time they reached the bike parking lot of the ethanol factory. They wheeled the bike over to a charging station and plugged it in.
“What does this Klon do here again?” Rubric asked. She was feeling confident. It felt good to be back in Society, even as a fugitive.
“She cleans up the waste product that the factory generates,” Dream said. “Shoveling sludge into bins.”
“It makes no sense that they would give someone of Salmon Jo’s Jeepie Type that assignment,” Rubric said, smacking down the sticky kickstand on the e-bike. “Anyone can do that job. Why would you utilize someone with so much brai
ns for that?”
Dream shook her head. “You still don’t understand how it is. They don’t want to use a Klon’s brain. The smarter they are, the more likely they’ll be stuck off doing something soul-crushing and menial.” She smiled. “C’mon, let’s go. I’m ready to impersonate a Panna.”
The factory’s front office was incredibly busy, Klons racing back and forth waving screens and shouting. But, of course, they made time for a couple of Pannas. Rubric and Dream played cute with the Kapo Klon.
“We’re doing a report on eth fruits for academy!” Dream said, tilting her head to the side in a fetching way. To Rubric’s critical eye, Dream was overdoing her imitation of a pampered, mindless human. But the Klon seemed besotted.
“We’re following eth fruits from their earliest days on the tree until they are turned into energy!” Rubric said, giggling.
“Charming,” declared the Kapo Klon, an older woman with a lined face. “I will personally escort you around the factory.”
“That’s not necessary,” Dream said.
“Oh, but it is,” the Kapo Klon said. “There are a lot of dangers in a factory for young Pannas like yourselves.”
Dream’s smile began to look a little strained. But Rubric knew a Panna could always get her own way. “We must go by ourselves,” she said haughtily. “It’s part of the assignment.”
“In that case,” demurred the Kapo Klon.
Rubric was actually a little shocked at how easy it was. Security was so lax in Society. They could probably do a lot more damage to this factory than just steal one Klon.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Rubric asked, as they walked through a dirty hallway, clutching floor plans and safety equipment.
“I know you’re thinking we could destroy this factory while we’re here, and I agree,” Dream said. “But that’s not what I’m thinking.”
“Okay, what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking it’s so much fun to be a Panna!” said Dream.
They found the staircase that led down to the basement where Salmon Jo’s Jeepie Similar Klon was working. They donned the face masks and polycarbonate goggles that the Kapo Klon had told them to wear.
When they reached the basement, they couldn’t see at all. The whole area was a cloud of white dust. They could hear Klons talking and coughing, but they couldn’t see them. Rubric turned on the flashlight she kept in her pocket, but it only made the cloud of dust more luminescent. They walked around, peering at each Klon they saw. Big chutes came down from the ceiling, emptying piles of eth-fruit detritus into dumpsters, but the white dust settled all over the room. The Klons were scraping the white stuff into piles and then shoveling the piles into the dumpsters. Finally, Rubric caught sight of a characteristic stooped posture at the other end of the large room. Even through the white swirl, she recognized Salmon Jo’s Jeepie Similar Klon.
The girl was younger than Rubric, barely into her teens, but she was gaunt and hunched. Her face was covered in white dust. Her golden eyes seemed to pop out of her goggles.
“Hello,” Dream said, and the girl jumped.
“Are you inspectors?” she said. “I’m sorry I’m not wearing my mask. Kapo Klon always tells me to put it on.”
They had agreed that Dream had to handle the big reveal. “No offense, Panna Rubric, but you did a lousy job,” Dream had said. “You seemed completely veruckt. Leave it to me. And be ready to run, because some Klons are very loyal and aren’t receptive to the idea of escape. I know that seems strange, but that is how it is.”
Now, Dream knocked the girl on the arm. “Listen, Gold Eyes, I know your Kapo Klon doesn’t want you to wear a mask. ’Cause it makes you breathe too slow, and then you work too slow, eh? You know how I know?” Dream was using what sounded to Rubric like an exaggerated Klon accent.
The girl’s eyes got wider and she shook her head.
“Eh, I’m a Klon too,” Dream whispered.
“You’re her personal Klon?”
“Keep your voice down! No, I was a Picker Klon. Maybe I picked some of the eth fruits you’re shoveling now. But I escaped. This Panna human helped me. If you want, we can take you to the Land of the Barbarous Ones.”
The girl began to tremble. The trembling started her coughing.
“The Land of the Barbarous Ones isn’t as good or as bad as the stories say,” Dream whispered. “They really do have Cretinous Males and give birth to Hatchlings out of their you-know-whats. They’re odd people, but they leave you alone. Know why? Because you’re free there, a Panna, a human. You still have to work, but only half as much, and it’s real gentle work. So what do you say, Gold Eyes, are you coming or what?”
The girl tried to answer, but she was racked by coughing. “Do I have to decide right now?” she choked out.
Rubric felt so sorry for her. “No, of c—”
Dream slapped Rubric’s arm, silencing her. “Yes, Klon, it’s now or never. This is your once-in-a-lifetime chance. But we’re not trying to sell you anything. We’ve got a list of suitable Klons as long as your arm, and if you don’t want to go, we just move on to the next. Only don’t tell anyone what we said, or we’ll come back and smother you in your sleep. From the sound of your lungs, it wouldn’t take very long.”
“It’s difficult to make such a hasty decision,” she said. “I need more…” She sighed. She looked like she might just fall asleep on her feet.
“Data?” Rubric suggested. Salmon Jo was always saying she needed more data before she could decide anything.
The girl just looked blankly at her. Where was this girl’s lightning-fast intelligence? From what Rubric could see through the dust cloud around her, other figures were shuffling closer. They probably wanted to hear what they were saying. Dream needed to wrap this up.
“Why am I on the list?”
“The Panna here’s got a soft spot for your Jeepie Type,” Dream said. “Her snuggle mate is the same Jeepie Type.”
Now the girl looked alarmed.
“It’s not like that,” Rubric assured her. “I only have eyes for my schatzie. She’s back in the Land of the Barbarous Ones. Also, your Jeepie Type is very brainy. We need people like that.”
The girl smiled faintly. “No one’s ever called me brainy before.”
“All right, brainy, we’re leaving. Are you coming?” Dream asked.
“Yes,” she said, in the most indecisive way you could possibly say yes.
“What’s something that breaks down in this factory that we might need your help with fixing?” Rubric asked.
“The cane-splash mixer is always getting sucrolated,” the Klon replied.
They shuffled through the sugar mist toward the elevator they had spotted earlier.
“The cave splasher is sugarcoated,” Dream announced to no one in particular.
“She means the cane-splash mixer is sucrolated,” Rubric said louder, smacking Dream.
“Not again,” someone said.
“I can help,” said another.
“Nah, we got it covered,” Dream said.
In the elevator, they removed their goggles and safety masks. Dream shook out her tunic and brushed at her leggings, but Rubric didn’t bother.
“The floor plan said the back door is on the ground level,” Dream said.
“Yeah, but the finished ethanol is on the mezzanine level,” Rubric said.
The girl just followed them without comment, although she was a bit startled when Rubric stopped in the hallway and smashed the glass on the fire-alarm panel with her flashlight. She pulled the fire-alarm handle, and a loud bell began ringing.
“So do they even let you guys out of the building if there’s a fire?” Dream asked. “Or do you have to keep working?”
“They let us out,” the girl said. “They removed some fire-alarm panels because we set off a lot of false alarms so we could have breaks. But we have drills all the time. If we all got toasted up, they’d have to get all new Klons who wouldn’t know how to do things.
Our jobs are harder than they look.”
“Looks hard enough already,” Dream said. “What do you work, twelve-hour days?”
“Sixteen, sometimes,” the Klon said. “Without our long hours, Society would grind to a halt.” Talking about numbers seemed to soothe her. Rubric wondered if Dream had noticed and that was why she had asked.
“How many minutes does it take everyone in the factory to exit during a fire drill?” Rubric asked. Dream smiled at her, but there was a reason Rubric wanted to know.
“Just four minutes,” the Klon answered. Rubric knew she could trust her response.
Rubric checked the watch around her neck. It had been Salmon Jo’s, and she had given it to Rubric. “It’s probably safe to start a fire now,” she said.
“How can it be safe to start a fire?” the girl asked.
Rubric pushed open the door that led to the finished ethanol storeroom. Another alarm went off, but it didn’t matter. The big room had many fans turning lazily on the ceiling and was filled one end to the other with tanks of ethanol. There were several fire extinguishers placed on the walls next to the doors. Rubric took two and tossed them to the Klon and Dream. The Klon dropped hers on the floor, and some foam hissed out. Rubric went to work with her pocket knife, poking a tiny hole in the sealed spigot of the nearest tank.
“Um,” said the Klon. “I don’t know if this is such—”
Rubric took her flint out of her pocket and struck it. A spark appeared, and she was able to light her cloth safety mask. The girl edged closer to the door, speechless.
Rubric stuck the flaming mask in the spigot of the tank. Nothing happened, and she was thinking it wasn’t going to work when whumph! a huge flame shot up. She turned and ran.
Rubric heard a successive series of whumphs behind her as the other tanks began to catch. She bumped into the Klon, who dropped her fire extinguisher again. Dream and Rubric were running for the stairs, trying to drag the girl with them.
“No, close the door, close the door!” cried the girl, bumping into Rubric in her frenzy to get back, past them, the other way to shut the door. She slammed the metal door shut just as balls of flame belched out of the doorway. When she turned back again, she had no eyebrows. But Rubric had no time to look. The three of them kept jostling each other on the stairs in a way that would have been comical if it wasn’t so scary. She did notice with part of her brain that the girl wasn’t racing far ahead of them as she would have expected. Maybe if your lungs were full of dust, you wouldn’t be in top running condition like Salmon Jo.
