by Brenda Hiatt
“Thank goodness you’re all safe!” Mum exclaims as soon as she sees us. She’s clearly distressed, despite Dad’s protective arm around her shoulders.
“Come on, Deirdra, let’s get you out of this mob. We can talk once we’re back in our quarters.”
Jana’s parents also look thoroughly shaken as they silently shepherd their daughter away from the square.
Mum and Dad don’t say anything else as we make our way back to our lodgings. Meanwhile, I consider the possible ramifications of what we heard.
If what the Sovereign says is true, the entire planet could devolve into chaos over the next few days. An EMP of that magnitude will almost certainly take out all communication satellites and every active power grid on Earth. The Duchas are practically savages already—what will they become once the trappings of civilization are stripped away? Will even Echtrans be able to survive on such a world?
It crosses my mind that the complete breakdown of society might be a shortcut to the Populists’ goals—but at what cost? All I can do—all any of us can do—is wait and see what happens.
“Please don’t worry, Deirdra,” Dad says as soon as we’re back indoors. “Dun Cloch is self-sufficient, so we’ll be perfectly safe here. They’ll simply turn off the generators and restart them once the EMP passes.”
Mum nods, sending Adina and me what she clearly intends as a bracing smile. “Yes, I’m sure we’ll all be fine. It turns out to be a very good thing they kept us here, doesn’t it? I hope everyone who already left for Jewel—and who moved to other cities around the country—will be all right. They must be so frightened right now! Do you think they’ll hear the news in time to protect themselves?”
“The Sovereign said the Duchas news outlets are urging precautions as well,” he reminds her. “That should give everyone plenty of time to prepare, especially given that an EMP won’t directly harm anyone, just disrupt power and scramble circuitry.”
“You’re right, of course, Aidan. I just wish…we could do something.”
That sense of helplessness is expressed repeatedly over the next two days, even as we’re assured that every safety measure has been taken and all we can do now is wait.
Friday night, as the time of the predicted attack draws near, no one even considers going to bed. Everyone from the temp lodgings gathers just outside the dining hall as the minutes tick past on an old wind-up clock someone found.
“Two minutes.” Dad double checks the time on a non-electronic wrist timepiece he bought specifically for this occasion.
“Maybe our Scientists figured out a way to keep it from happening,” Jana’s mom responds hopefully.
We all watch the sky, though there’s no particular reason to think the attack, when it comes, will be visible.
“Ten forty-seven,” Dad and two others with mechanical chronometers announce simultaneously.
It’s time. I can hear my heart beating as I stare at the star-encrusted canopy above us.
The entire crowd gasps when a brilliant point of light abruptly appears over our heads, then spreads outward in all directions, taking on every color I’ve ever imagined as it advances across the sky. It’s both terrifying and breathtaking—literally.
Gradually, the multi-hued cascade of light fades, until the sky looks just as it did before. I’m not the only one still holding my breath.
“Did…did it happen?” Adina finally asks, a quaver in her voice.
Dad pulls out his mobile phone and powers it on. “It must not have,” he says after a moment, “or this shouldn’t be working. I don’t suppose—”
“Attention, everyone,” an announcement blares across the compound. “Dun Cloch appears to have escaped the worst effects of the expected EMP, though we are just now restarting all systems and running tests. We’ll have more information for you after we have made a full assessment, probably in the morning. Meanwhile, you can all relax.”
“Well, that was anticlimactic,” I mutter. So much for shaking up the status quo.
Unfortunately, Adina overhears me. “Seriously? You thought that incredible light show was anticlimactic? I’ve never seen anything like it! You sound like you’re disappointed everything didn’t get fried!”
“What? No! Of course not. It just…seems like we were all worried for nothing.”
“And thank goodness for that!” Mum fervently exclaims. “I’m sure we’ll all sleep better tonight. I certainly will. Let’s go back.”
But as we return to our quarters, I can’t suppress a niggling suspicion that everything the Sovereign told us three days ago was a lie.
* * *
The next morning there’s a notice on our tablets, repeated at breakfast, that Dun Cloch did indeed come through the events of last night unscathed. More than that, preliminary reports from around the world indicate the expected EMP never happened at all—though what exactly did happen is unclear.
Not until that evening do we get an explanation, when another MARSTAR bulletin from the Echtran Council appears on everyone’s tablets. I quickly read through the brief statement confirming that the EMP never reached Earth. Our Scientists apparently used a positron beam somehow, to turn what would have been an EMP into last night’s light show. The Duchas media are being informed it was an exceptional display of Northern Lights because of the fictitious sunspots previously mentioned.
The bulletin also gives the Sovereign some credit for “communicating” with the Grentl and making them leave. I consider it far more likely they simply left in embarrassment when their EMP fizzled—assuming they were ever in orbit at all. Either way, the so-called threat is apparently over.
Though I hear cheering from around the compound as others read the report, I suspect more strongly than ever the whole thing was fabricated. Maybe to promote unity among all the new immigrants and ensure their continued allegiance to the Sovereign? Seems like the sort of thing Royals might do.
I wonder if I’ll ever know for sure.
Part II
Jewel
14
Away game
Two days after being assured that the so-called crisis was supposedly averted, our bus to Jewel is finally allowed to leave, nearly a week later than originally scheduled.
All through the first long day of our trip, as we trundle through Montana and most of South Dakota, everyone keeps exclaiming about the miles—and miles—of nothing. For someone born and raised in Nuath, where you can’t go a quarter of a mile without seeing buildings and people, it goes beyond freaky to downright creepy.
Early on the second day, though, I start to see more signs of civilization. More traffic, for one thing. At least by now I’m used to how fast those gravity-bound Duchas cars can go, which was startling at first. Signs and buildings sprout up, thicker and thicker, as we cross from Minnesota into Iowa, then Illinois.
It’s full dark by the time we reach the Indiana border. An hour and a half later the driver announces we’ll arrive at the NuAgra facility in ten minutes. We start gathering up our belongings. Peering past Adina out the window, at first I just see a lot more nothing, punctuated by an occasional building. Then a long metal fence looms up in the darkness and a moment later the bus pulls to a halt in front of a tall gate of the same material.
The driver speaks briefly to a guard, then the gate slides open and we continue on to a building bigger than anything I saw in Dun Cloch, not to mention Nuath.
“Everyone, please make sure you have everything you brought on board as you leave the bus,” we hear over the speaker. “There will be a short briefing indoors before you’re taken to your individual residences. Thank you for your patience during this long drive. I wish you all the best in your new lives here.”
Mum is beside herself with excitement as people start to file off the bus. “We’re here! We’re actually in Jewel! I can’t wait to see what our new home will look like!”
Though Dad’s smile is indulgent, he looks almost as excited as Mum. Adina, who slept the last two hours, is yawnin
g.
“Have you seen my—? Oh, there it is.” She retrieves the stylus for her tablet from her seat, where she was apparently sitting on it.
Once off the bus, we’re directed into the central building, then down a corridor to a huge room full of desks and chairs, like a classroom. As soon as we’re all seated, a woman steps up to the podium at the front of the room.
“Welcome to Jewel, everyone. I am Breann, one of four Jewel-based members of the Echtran Council. You’ve had a long journey from Dun Cloch and I’m sure you’re all tired, so I won’t keep you long.”
She goes on to explain that we’ll have a day or two to settle in before training begins at the NuAgra facility. “Those of you with school-age children, however, will want to get them registered tomorrow so they can begin attending their Duchas classes the following day. Please consult the informational files you were given before leaving Dun Cloch.
“Given the lateness of the hour, the first to be taken to their new residences will be families with underage children. Please follow Rory, there, who will take you and your luggage in the van. For those few of you who will be living here at the NuAgra facility for the present, Maddy will show you to your quarters. We should have the rest of you settled within the next hour or so.”
My parents, Adina and I head back outside the building. Those of us who’ll be living at the Diamond View Terrace Apartments—us, Jana, Erin and their parents—are directed to the middle of three waiting vehicles. The others fill the other two vans, depending on where they’re headed. The van seats aren’t nearly as roomy as the ones on the bus, but this drive only lasts fifteen minutes.
“Here we are,” our driver announces cheerfully. “I hear your apartments have all been recently refurbished, so you should be comfortable here.”
He helps us unload our bags, then escorts us to a tiny office staffed by a woman who looks as tired as I feel.
“If you’ll just sign your leases, you can fill out the rest of your paperwork tomorrow.” She stifles a yawn. “NuAgra paid your deposits yesterday, so you can move right in. Here’s a map of the complex.” She hands each family a sheet of paper along with their keys. “Sleep well, everyone.”
Our apartment is on the second floor. Because of our luggage we take the little lift—elevator, I remind myself—though I’m glad to see there are also stairs we can use. After two days on a bus, I feel as much in need of exercise as I did on the ship.
Dad fits the key into the lock. It clicks, but nothing else happens. After a moment, he tries the round metal knob just below the keyhole and the door opens.
“I’d nearly forgotten they still use doorknobs on Earth,” he comments, stepping inside. “Oh, and these.” He gropes along the wall just inside the door and light floods the interior.
“Cool!” Adina exclaims as we follow him into what will be our home for at least the next year or two. “I can’t wait to try out all the Earth gadgets!”
“Sshh!” Dad hastily closes the door. “Remember, we need to be extremely careful if there’s a chance we could be overheard by Duchas.”
The need for absolute secrecy about our origins was drummed into us over and over, but I worry Adina—especially with Jana’s influence—might blurt something out she shouldn’t when completely surrounded by non-Martians. It’ll be ironic if my sister accidentally gets us booted back to Dun Cloch before I can even begin my mission here.
Unabashed, she starts exploring. “Look, we have our own bathroom again, Kira. Ooh, with a real Earth toilet and a water sink and shower! Can I take a shower before I go to bed, Mum? Please?”
“It’s awfully late,” Mum begins, but Dad shrugs.
“I don’t see why not. You don’t have school tomorrow, except to register, which we don’t have to do first thing. We can all sleep in a bit in the morning. I believe I’ll take a water shower myself.”
He and Mum head for their room and I follow Adina into ours. The apartment is furnished but looking around, I’m not impressed by whoever did the furnishing. Two twin beds with matching plain blue spreads, a nightstand between them under the single window, two tiny desks and a chest of drawers. All made of actual wood, which would be prohibitively expensive on Mars.
“You can have first shower if you want,” Adina says, opening her larger bag. “I’m going to unpack. We have a lot more drawer space here than we did in Dun Cloch—ooh, and a closet, too!”
I do feel grubby after two days on that bus, so I pull out my nightgown and go into the bathroom—then stare around at the unfamiliar fixtures. I never did finish that chapter in the reading we were given back on Mars, but I figure if the Duchas use this stuff, it can’t possibly be too complicated.
In place of the usual ionic cylinder, there’s an oblong trough with two pipes sticking out of the wall above it, one up high and one lower. The elimination device is different, too, with water in a white bowl below the seat.
Hoping it works basically the same way, I close the bathroom door and sit down. When I’m done, it takes me a few seconds to figure out that I need to turn the silvery lever on the shiny white box behind the seat. The bowl empties with a startling whoosh, then refills. Efficient, I suppose, but a terrible waste of water.
Where a sanitizing unit would normally be, there’s a sink with a pipe over it and two handles. Gingerly, I turn the handle on the left and water gushes out, quickly becoming hot. Alarmed, I turn it back off, then try the other handle. This one produces cold water. By turning them both at the same time, I manage to produce water that’s comfortably warm.
The shower works similarly, though at first I can only get water from the big, lower pipe. Will I have to sit in water to get clean? Ew. I tug experimentally on a little knob atop the pipe and a jet of wet hits me in the back of the head. Cursing, I jump backwards to glare at the upper pipe, now raining into the trough.
Feeling stupid now, I strip and step into the trough to let the water wash over me for a minute or two. No way this is getting me as clean as an ionic shower, but I guess it’s better than nothing. Disliking Earth more than ever, I turn off the water and pull a towel off the rack.
“You were in there a long time for such a short shower,” Adina says when I rejoin her. She’s tucking the last of her things into a drawer.
“Took me a minute to figure out the knobs and stuff,” I admit sheepishly, opening my bag to put my things away, too.
Adina frowns at me in apparent confusion. “Why? They look exactly like they told us, plus you took Earth Studies.”
I lift a shoulder. “Earth Studies didn’t cover day-to-day stuff like that. It was more about Earth’s history, geography, culture, that sort of thing. And I, um, kind of skimmed that part of the reading.” Because I was still in denial about coming here at all.
* * *
Mum is already bustling around the kitchen when I make my way out of the bedroom the next morning. “I don’t guess there’s anything for breakfast?”
“There certainly is,” she says brightly. “They were nice enough to stock the cooler, er, refrigerator with enough food for our first day or two as we’ve no way to get to a grocery store yet. Your father and I plan to buy an automobile today—we’ve been offered a ride to a market here in Jewel that sells them. Then we can drive you and Adina to the high school to register for your classes and do a bit of shopping.”
Adina comes out of the bedroom still yawning. “What smells so good?”
“Real eggs, scrambled up with fresh vegetables,” Mum happily informs her, dishing some onto a plate. “We have orange juice as well—it’s apparently quite easy to come by here.”
Only the upper fines can afford citrus anything in Nuath, those fruits are so tricky to grow hydroponically. My mood lightens slightly as Adina pours each of us a generous glassful.
I’m less cheerful three hours later, when Mum and Dad show us the “new” vehicle they just bought—a small blue contraption with noticeable scratches and dents. Our old hovercar was in better shape than this thin
g.
“It’s, um, nice,” Adina offers.
“I know it’s not much,” Dad says, “but it was the best we could afford from the selection available.”
Mum nods, clearly delighted with it. “Tell them the best part, Aidan! Guess who sold it to us, girls? Louie Truitt!”
We both stare at her blankly.
“You know,” she prompts. “The Sovereign’s adoptive uncle. Not only that, while we were signing the paperwork, Mona and Brad Gilroy stopped in to invite him and his family to dinner this coming weekend. They arrived here last week and had already purchased a car from him. As soon as they left, we did the same—and he accepted! We’ll be hosting the Sovereign herself for dinner next week, can you believe it? Of course, we’ll need to make the apartment more presentable first. Perhaps some new curtains…”
She chatters on about other things she wants to buy—stuff we probably can’t afford and the Sovereign won’t even notice, she’s so used to luxurious surroundings. Finally, Dad reminds her that they still need to get us registered at school, so we all climb into the little blue car.
After ten minutes driving past enormous fields of corn and not much else, we pull up in front of Jewel High, a long, single story building of yellowish stone. The only other thing within sight is a smaller, similar building across the street labeled Jewel Middle School. And more corn.
“How can anyone eat this much corn?” I comment as we get out of the car.
“A lot of it is for animal feed,” Adina knowledgeably informs me. “The whole Midwest grows mostly corn—well, that and soybeans. They use it in all kinds of food products you’d never expect.”
All of which I’d know if I hadn’t zoned out so often in our early classes.
Once inside, we’re directed to the school office, where a woman behind the counter immediately pulls out all the papers we and our parents need to sign. We’re obviously not the first newcomers to register today.
