The Star Dwellers

  “When I linger outside the truck, a strong hand shoves me forward and into the tinted interior—and Year Zero begins.”

  There’s a blank page, which I pass quickly in an effort to get to the next entry. I’m gripped by the young girl’s words, speaking from beyond the grave. The history books don’t tell it like this. They’re all patriotism and new beginnings and marvels of engineering.

  I read the next page:

  “Just like me, the elevator shakes and trembles as it descends deep into the earth. We are packed into the metal box like the yucky sardines my dad likes to eat are packaged into their smelly cans. My stomach feels funny as we drop, like when my dad took me and my friends to ride the rollercoasters at the amusement park. The elevator is bright, lit by yellow fluorescent light that hurts my eyes. I close my eyelids, because there’s nothing to see anyway. I imagine I’m still with my family, playing in the backyard with my sister while my dad mows the lawn and my mom does yoga. My imagination tells lies.

  “When we exit the elevator it is dark. We are in a cave full of gray rock walls and pointy stones popping from the floor and ceiling that I know from school are called stalactites and stalagmites. The cave is the biggest cave I’ve ever seen, even bigger than the ones in Laurel Caverns, where my family went spelunking on one of our family vacations. This cave is so big that I can’t even see the other side of it, which seems to disappear into the gloom at the far end of my vision. The roof is so high that I have to squint to see it, and I can only make it out then because of the dim overhead lights strung up on the ceiling.

  “They give us hardhats with lights on them. Mine is too big, but they say it’s better to be too big than too small. They tell us we have to hurry, that the scientists are predicting the meteor will hit earth very soon.

  I can’t hold back my tears any longer, but I wipe them away quickly with the back of my hand.

  “We all line up with our helmets on and sit on the hard stone floor, which pinches my skin beneath my jeans. They tell me to put my head between my knees so I do. Silence. A child whimpers. Not me. Someone shushes him and he’s quiet again. Silence. A bead of sweat trickles from my helmet down my forehead and into my eyes. I blink it away, ignoring the stinging.

  “The impact is so powerful I think the earth will be torn in two. I’m flung to the side and I land in a tangle of arms and legs. There are bodies all around me. People screaming. Kids crying. I cry. The lights flicker and go out. The earth is shaking, shaking, shaking to pieces. The sky is falling and my head hurts when I feel the stones crack against my helmet. Sharp pebbles sting my skin, but I keep my head down like they showed me.

  “I am scared.”

  I take a deep breath and look up. “I can’t imagine what it was like,” I say.

  “One more entry,” Ben replies.

  The next page is dated two weeks later. I read:

  “It’s the first time I haven’t cried in a week. My family is dead, they told me. Nothing could have survived it. I don’t understand it all, but they say that it wasn’t the meteor that killed everyone. Mostly it was the oceans, which rose up and covered everything when the meteor hit. They say we are lucky to be alive. There they go with the lucky thing again. It bothers me, but I just listen.

  “One kid asks when we can go back outside again. I can tell he’s scared of the dark. I’m glad I’m not, because it’s dark most of the time. They told him never. That it would be hundreds, or maybe thousands, of years before anyone could go back up. They told us this is our home now—in the caves.

  “I feel so alone.”

  I feel something tickling my cheek and when I touch my face with my hand it comes away wet. A single tear, filled with the girl’s desperate tale, moistens my cheek. I don’t know why I’m moved by something that happened five hundred years ago, but I am.

  “Why did you show me this?” I ask, looking up.

  Ben doesn’t answer right away and I think he may have fallen asleep, weary from the gunshot wound and our harried flight from subchapter 26. I’m about to ask again, but his eyes flash open suddenly. “I just wanted to change your perspective,” he says.

  My perspective? My perspective is that my father’s a creep and he needs to be stopped; that I want to help; that I want to forge a new life for myself; that I want to get to know Adele better. What’s wrong with that? I puzzle over Ben’s words, trying to understand what he means. What does our fight have to do with a diary from five centuries ago?

  Something clicks in my brain, and I realize how dense I am sometimes. Everything I want is for me, selfish. I want to stop my dad because he drove away my mom, and because he didn’t love me or her, not really. I want to help because I think it’s what Adele wants, or maybe because Roc thinks it’s my destiny, I don’t know. I want to forge a new life and be with Adele because I think it will make me happy. I want, I want, I want. I am stunned when I realize how self-centered I’ve been. It all comes together in an instant.

  “You want me to see that this is bigger than just me, just you, just any of us.”

  There’s an invisible smile on Ben’s face and I know I’m right, even without him saying it. “If we’re not doing this for the right reasons, we won’t make the right decisions,” he says simply.

  I know he’s right.

  Chapter Nine

  Adele

  “Mom!” I cry out, bumping Trevor from behind as I dash past him. She’s on her feet, moving around the desk, and we meet partway. And then my arms are around her and hers around me.

  I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming. I’m waking up for sure. Any second. Any moment. I’ll be back in the inter-Realm tunnel, feverish and delirious with Bat Flu. I’m not sure my heart can take the loss of my mom again, and I hold on tighter, willing her not to disappear.

  I realize I’m crying, sobbing into her shoulder, my nose running like a faucet. Maybe it would be better if it was a dream. I don’t want my mom to see me like this.

  “Adele…” the melodious and familiar voice murmurs. “You found me. You’re okay and you found me.”

  Before I pull back so I can look at her, I wipe my nose and face on the shoulder of my tunic. It’s gross but I don’t care. She’s looking at me. My mom. Anna. The General? Reality flashes back and I have so many questions.

  “Mom—what are you doing here?” I ask.

  Her hazel eyes are full of compassion, just like I remember, soft and somber. She lifts a hand and gently wipes a lingering tear from my cheek with the backs of her fingers. “There’s so much I have to tell you,” she says.

  Her head jerks to the side as she remembers we’re being watched. I follow her gaze and notice Trevor staring at us, his eyes narrowed, his lips contorted into a slight frown. An unwanted shudder passes through me. Tawni is behind him, smiling bigger than I have ever seen before. Or at least since before Cole died.

  “Mom, I want to introduce you to my friend,” I say, motioning with a hand. She steps forward. “This is Tawni—Tawni, meet my mom, Anna.”

  My mom releases me from her embrace and shifts forward, ignoring Tawni’s outstretched hand, hugging her. Tawni takes it in stride, hugging back.

  When they pull away, Mom says, “Any friend of Adele’s is a friend of mine. Thank you for coming all this way with her.” The way she says it makes it sound like she knows exactly what we’ve been through—every challenge, every heartbreak, every success. But of course, that’s impossible.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Rose,” Tawni says respectfully.

  “Call me Anna.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you, Trevor,” she says, her eyes flitting to the door. One side of my lip turns up when he gets the unspoken message: You’re no longer needed here. His eyes dance from my mother to me and then back again, before he takes a slight bow and exits the room, closing the door on his way out.

  “What is with him?” I say, not trying to hide my annoyance at our guide.

  “Trevor’s okay,” Mom says. ?
??He’s not the one to worry about.”

  I search her once-young face for a mystery, but find only lines of age and hardship, despite having been away from her for only eight months. “Then who is?” I ask.

  “There are many liars in our world,” she says cryptically.

  “And Trevor’s one of them.”

  Tawni laughs, high and musical. “She’s been talking like this since we met him.”

  “You’ve done well in winning Adele’s friendship,” Mom says. “It’s not easy to come by.”

  A comment like that should make me angry, but my heart is too full of excitement at having found my mom, and it just rolls off my back like the trickle from an underground waterfall.

  “C’mon,” she says, tugging my hand to the side, where a stone bench sits, padded with something dark. We sit in a row, me, Mom, and Tawni.

  I bite my lip as my brain pushes me to ask one of the zillion questions swirling around my head. As my mom smiles at me, her delicate features—a small, upturned nose, doll-like lips, and rosy cheeks—bring on memories of my childhood. I shake my head, willing them away. There’s no time for memories.

  “We have to get out of here,” I say. “Dad said—”

  “Tell me everything, Adele.”

  I sigh, trying to organize my thoughts. My mom’s hand rests lightly on my leg and it gives me comfort. “Everything?” I ask.

  “Take your time,” she says. “Everything is important.”

  “But I don’t understand. Why are you here? Why are they calling you the General?”

  “All in good time, honey. But first, I need to hear what you know.” I’m confused—so freaking confused that if my mom suddenly turned into a dog and started licking my face it would make just as much sense—but I just go with it. I know my mom too well. She’s a patient woman, not one to be rushed.

  I start with the Pen, about meeting Tawni and Cole—my voice cracks slightly when I say his name—how we escaped the electric fence, the bombs, rescuing Elsey, Rivet’s attempts to capture or kill us. Unlike when I told my father, I don’t leave anything out, including Tristan. I tell her about my surprising feelings for him, how he followed us, saved us, pursued us on the train to subchapter 26. Tawni interjects from time to time, adding important details, but for the most part she is silent, just listening. Just before I get to the part about Cole’s death, she gets up and leaves. Mom raises an eyebrow and then turns back to me.

  When I get to the fight on the train platform, I pour my heart out to her, telling her of the pain I felt at losing Cole, the rage inside me as I killed Rivet, my deep sadness and rebound as I got to know Tristan. I even told her about holding his hand before we slept. It’s like I’ve been bottling up all my most powerful emotions and finally they spill over, with my mom as the recipient.

  Tawni reenters the room and I relay the story of rescuing Dad, our frantic race through the city, and how we parted ways at the reservoir. I condense our monotonous jaunt through the inter-Realm tunnel to just a few sentences, focusing mainly on when we crossed paths with the sun dweller army, and end the tale when we pass out after contracting the Bat Flu.

  When I finish, my mom leans back and puts both hands behind her back, closes her eyes and breathes deeply. “You’re sure you saw sun dweller soldiers in the Moon Realm?” she asks.

  “Yeah, in the inter-Realm tunnel. What do you think they’re planning to do?”

  “I’m not sure, but nothing good. And you’re sure your father told you to come rescue me?”

  I try to remember. “I don’t think he said ‘rescue,’ but he did say to find you,” I say, glancing at Tawni. She nods once in agreement.

  “Then he really doesn’t know what’s happening.”

  It’s not a question, but I feel obliged to answer. “He didn’t know anything. He said they didn’t get much news inside Camp Blood and Stone, just rumors. Mom, please, what is this all about?”

  “And he didn’t tell you anything else about me, or him, or the past?”

  “No, Mom, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Then I’ll start from the beginning.” Her eyes open and she looks tired, like all the years and troubles and stress are catching up with her. “Your father and I are in the Resistance.”

  The words ring through my head, but it takes me a moment to register their meaning. A strange feeling washes over me, like I know what my mom just said won’t be the biggest surprise. My initial reaction is to deny it, to even scoff at it, but somehow I know it’s true. Probably because my mother has never lied to me. At least not that I know of. Evidently she’s kept some secrets, but it’s not the same thing as a bold-faced lie. “Okayyy,” I say. “You mean, like part of the Uprising in 475 PM?”

  “Correct.”

  “I thought the Resistance was defeated, Mrs. Ro—I mean, Anna,” Tawni says.

  “Sort of. The sun dweller army was too powerful. Many of us were killed, but not all. Nailin knew it, but he instructed the press to imply that all Resistance members had been killed in battle, or captured and executed.” This is a different woman than the one who raised me. I’ve never heard her speak of death so brazenly. Nor have I heard her utter the Tri-Realm leader’s name with such disrespect. Growing up, it was always President Nailin.

  “How many survived?” I ask.

  “Not many, a hundred, maybe. But most were the Resistance leaders.”

  I stare at her, pondering her words. I don’t ask the question. Can’t. Want so badly to ask it, but my tongue is tied.

  As usual, Tawni comes through for me. “Were you one of the leaders?” she asks.

  Despite Tawni having asked the question, my mom’s eyes never leave mine. They look different than before. Less compassionate. Harder. Not somber—fierce. More like my eyes. I feel like I’m looking in a mirror, the way I normally do when I look into my father’s eyes. “Yes,” she says. “Ben, too.” She lets it sink in for a minute and I say nothing.

  “We were the two topmost members of the Resistance Council.”

  I say nothing, heat rising in my chest.

  “They hid us in plain sight after the Uprising was quashed…”

  I say nothing, the fire in my throat.

  “Allowed us to start a family…”

  I say nothing, my lips twitching.

  “To live a normal life—”

  “No!” I shout. “No, no, no!” My mom’s head moves back, seemingly surprised by the ferocity of my outburst. Even Tawni looks shocked, and she’s been dealing with me for a while now.

  I lower my head to the floor, take a deep breath. What is going on? Have I accidentally fallen down a hole and into another dimension, one where my soft-spoken mother has become a born fighter? All these years, has she been hiding her true self? The truth slides behind my heart, flits into it, bumps and shakes. I know the truth, but No! It can’t be true!

  It is—and I know it.

  With the truth, everything in my life abruptly makes sense. Why my dad wanted me to go to find my mom, and why he expected I’d be safe once I found her. Going back further, why my father always said I was more like my mom than him, particularly once I learned to fight. It all makes sense and none of it makes sense; it’s definitely one or the other, and I know which.

  “Adele,” my mom says, snapping me back to a dream world which is really reality. I slowly lift my head, meet her eyes, and she pulls me into her chest.

  “Are you okay?” Tawni asks, gently stroking my hair. I think about the question, all my crazy thoughts over the last few minutes, and what it means to my life going forward. Despite how insane it all sounds, something about it just feels right. It’s like a missing link, or the last puzzle piece, and now the picture is complete.

  “I’m fine,” I say, sitting up straight.

  Mom’s eyes are twinkling and I suspect she knows much of what I’ve been thinking. “You fought,” I say, not as a question, but as a statement.

  She nods.

  “And the E
nforcers took you and Dad away because they figured out who you were?”

  “Yes. When the Resistance was defeated, we laid low for a few years. We maintained the organization, but didn’t seek to grow it. Eventually, though, we had to start recruiting. Slowly at first, and then more and more as our plans advanced. We were careful and patient, vetting all potential new members before approaching them, using mostly referrals and internal connections. But no system is perfect, and at least one of the President’s spies slipped through. Somehow the traitor found out about us—you know the rest.”

  “You were brutally abducted, I was locked and forgotten in the Pen, and Elsey was dumped in a shithole orphanage.”

  Her lips part slightly and I can tell she’s shocked by my language, but she doesn’t reprimand me. “Exactly,” she says.

  I feel like screaming and crying and laughing all at the same time. A smattering of emotions, all fighting for control. Instead I ask another question: “What happened after the Enforcers took you?”

  “I was brought here—to the Star Realm. Locked up in the Max; the key thrown away. Dead to the world, at least in Nailin’s mind.”

  “Why’d they take Dad to a different prison?” I ask.

  “They knew who we were, how dangerous we were together. So they weren’t taking any chances. Perhaps they thought two of us in one place would increase the chances of a rescue attempt.”

  “But why not just execute you?” I ask, swallowing hard.