Aquifer

  “I love you, son. I am so proud of you. Protect her.” He winks toward Talya, who softly hums. “Always, protect her. Well, that and save the world.”

  I bite my lip. “Don’t look back. Protect her. Save the world. Got it.”

  Father and Seward exchange glances, nod toward me, and pad along the tree line toward the boats. I take Talya’s hand and follow.

  Their long legs make short work of the distance, and soon Father and Uncle climb into the nearest craft. Seward frantically hops to and fro while Father hauls up the anchor. Seward jumps out and then into another boat, where he repeats his dance.

  “Must be ours,” I whisper.

  “Not likely.”

  Talya screams. Hands slap over my eyes and mouth, and I’m hoisted from the ground. There is no use fighting.

  A distant engine roars to life, and the grip loosens over my arms. I yank my hand free, reach up and tug at the fingers shielding my eyes, and catch a glimpse of two figures, standing in a boat, skipping out of the bay.

  Father is free.

  The thought brings comforts, but only for a moment. Two figures haul Talya toward the nearest hut.

  The hand again blocks my gaze, and I’m carried forward and dropped onto the sand with a thud. I wince and sputter and stare up at five men dressed in white tunics. Though tall and imposing, they peer down at me with kind faces, wondering faces.

  “So, you are Luca. Is this correct?”

  I say nothing.

  “Who were the men?”

  They don’t know it was Father.

  “Amongus, wandering Amongus,” I say. “Your jungle is filled with them.”

  The youngest man glances at the oldest, who continues to speak.

  “They wander the jungle … And their number?”

  I think. “How could one know? Fifty? A hundred? Mostly women and children. Little bands here and there. And one great pit of death.”

  “Reffarian.” Another straightens and clenches his teeth. “This cannot go on. The pilot. He warned of —”

  “Yes, Kito.” Reffarian’s gaze never leaves me. “I am well aware of what was spoken, and what tragically has taken place. Luca, how did you come to the PM’s isle? Why did you come?”

  His voice is hypnotic, and I fight to stay clearheaded. “There aren’t many safe places on the mainland. I was holed up on the Swan. There was a kopter, and a seat. I was shoved aboard and ended up here. I’ve been wandering for a while.”

  Reffarian kneels before me, as do all the others. “But you didn’t wander alone.”

  “No.”

  “Who is the girl?”

  “Talya.”

  “Talya,” Reffarian repeats. He looks down at the sand, and then up at me. “Do you know why the world is falling apart?”

  “Because we thirst.”

  “No. Water is not the problem. The Rats are. The Rats are the problem. You are old enough to have had your tour. Did you not see the Rats in the museum?”

  “I saw the Rat in the museum.”

  “Was it not frightening?”

  “It was not frightening.”

  “And …” He blinks and squints. “What did you say?”

  “I told you the Rat in the museum caused no fear.”

  “And why not?” asks Reffarian.

  Keep them speaking.

  “Have you seen her? The museum rat?” I ask.

  “A long time ago.”

  “Then you have not seen her. But what you saw, the creature on display, were you terrified of it? When you were taken from your special room below, when you visited the museum, were you scared of the fact that you are not in control of your life? That a creature like that could turn off your water?” I push up onto my elbows, suddenly unafraid. Suddenly, I am truly Father Massa’s son. “Did that frighten you, Reffarian?”

  The others peek at their leader, who leans back against the door. “It haunted my dreams.”

  “I see.” My gaze wanders the faces of the Council. “But here in paradise, those dreams can’t reach you, and they should not upset you. I will face your nightmares. Now that Father Massa is sadly undone, I must descend next year. How could I do my job filled with fear?”

  Reffarian draws in the sand. “Yet I’m told that you have already descended. That you have ascended. That you escaped Mape’s hands. And now you are here.”

  I squint. That smooth voice is probing, reaching. I feel it.

  “I told you, I flew here because of the chaos, through no fault of my own. This morning I came across two Amongus near the beach. They said they were leaving, that they were going to find their families. It was my intention to leave you, and the PM, undisturbed. I would appreciate the gift of a boat so that I may not trouble you further. Surely you have important business to complete.”

  There is a long pause. “Would you consider a trade?”

  I look at all these men. They are baffled; I sense it. If I had five dials, all would spin. They have lost control of a world, and now they cannot direct a conversation, especially a conversation with a boy who feels remarkably like a man.

  I ponder my reply. I suppose they can debrief me — Father survived the process. I only know I can tell them nothing about the Rats, and I need to find and protect Talya. Father said so.

  “I would consider a trade.”

  “A boat, for the route,” Reffarian says. “Surely you understand the precarious position the world finds itself in. One young boy knows the path of exchange. The system of Deliverers was never wise. Fraught with danger, leaving each generation hanging by a thread. Together, we can remedy this, now that your father is gone. Should you ever forget the way, the route would be safe in our hands, a vault of security for the world.”

  A vault. The thoughts rush in. I see the faces around the fire. I see their bowed heads and clasped hands. I hear each shot, watch them fall.

  But you, you must complete your task.

  Akov’s words.

  Protect her. Save the world.

  Father’s words. Yeah, I’ll need a boat.

  “I will share the route with you. For a boat, and my companion.”

  Reffarian glances to his left, and a man rises. He returns quickly with three more men and Talya. She hints a smile and sits stoic at my side.

  “Eight?” I ask. “We’ve been taught you were nine.”

  “As we are. Discussions can follow, but first let’s unburden your mind. Share the route, and then you two are free to stay or leave as you please.” He turns toward another council member. “Where’s that dolt Fundin?”

  Moments later a boy is escorted into the hut. Just a young boy. Maybe twelve, thirteen. His skin is pale, his eyes gray. He opens a book and nervously fidgets with the pages. It’s the boy chosen over Walery. I’m certain of it.

  “Reffarian, there is no need to obtain the path, not with plans in place … Luca can’t read.” Fundin whispers loud enough so that all can hear. “He can’t know if he possessed what you seek.”

  Reffarian lays his hand on Fundin’s chest and gestures toward me. “You may begin.”

  I give Talya’s hand a squeeze.

  “Left, left …”

  I stand and walk around the hut as I recite, my mind on automatic. I help Talya to her feet. “Right, sharp right …”

  I pause, mouth directions. “Let’s see, let’s see. Straight away, a long one.” I step over Reffarian and open the door. “Left, sharp right. Very sharp right.”

  Together with Talya, I crisscross the beach, walking the path in the sand. Nine men follow me like obedient chicks, Fundin and his scratching tool leading the way.

  “And finally a right.”

  I help Talya into the boat, and climb in after. “There, you have it. That’s the way.”

  I stare at Reffarian, who stares at Fundin. Fundin’s lips move quickly, and minutes later he shuts the book. “It’s the same. Exactly. The same route that Massa gave.”

  Reffarian folds his arms. “We’ve sent men on that path. Th
ey don’t return. I do not believe you’ve been forthright with the truth.”

  “You expect your men to return from the journey? You saw the gnawing, gnashing creatures that await.” I can’t help but peek at Talya. Absolutely beautiful. “Surely your parties met destruction.”

  I glance at the rope threading the metal loop on the prow. Coils fall lifeless onto the deck, where they surround the anchor. Father pulled it up.

  “Here it is, something you must know,” Reffarian says, and I move to the driver’s seat. “You will be surprised to know that there is no PM. That when it comes to the world’s citizens, we” — he spreads his arms — “the Council, alone is responsible.”

  “Yep, I know,” I say.

  “You know?”

  Murmurs ripple on the beach, and Reffarian continues. “Toppers are like sheep without a shepherd, so we must lead with strength. Unfortunately, with Massa undone and you disappearing as you did, they no longer experience the security to which they are accustomed.”

  “That makes sense. That makes …” I drop into the captain’s seat, and Talya jumps to my side. “I’m sorry, just a little weak from wandering through the jungle.” I reach behind my back and feel for the key. Talya straightens and steps between Reffarian and me.

  “You and Massa have provided us with inaccurate information, so we have no choice but to forcibly take the Aquifer from the Rats. This plan is underway as we speak.”

  “Hmm,” I say. “Good luck there. I mean, that’s a big job.”

  Reffarian glances around. “Luca, you do not comprehend the gravity of my words, or their implication. The Deliverers are no longer needed. You are no longer needed.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, and bow. “I consider myself dismissed.”

  I crank the key, and the engine roars to life. The boat spins wildly. Three members of the Council splash into the water and throw themselves at our craft as I turn and grab the wheel, gain control, and power deeper. Two men quickly slip off the hull, and when Talya lugs the anchor toward the prow, and drops it on very unfortunate fingers, we are, at last, free of the Council.

  I hear no shouts, but I don’t look back.

  “They’re letting us go, Luca,” Talya says. “You were brilliant, but that was too easy.”

  “I know. If we go to the Isle of Descent and try to warn Etria, they could follow us down. They will think we’re going there.” I shake my head. “I hope Father and Seward find fortune. But as for us …” I exit the bay and turn toward New Pert and the world from which we just fled. “We stay our course. We have a different assignment. Nobody of right mind would trail us to the mainland.”

  Talya nestles down and again starts to hum. That strange melody from long ago.

  Why does it calm me this way?

  The ocean turns restless. So do I.

  We make our way southeast, or as near to it as the sun reveals. Talya lies beneath a tarp, her skin glossy red. With her beauty hidden, my thoughts float to my father and Seward and their impossible task.

  They’ll never break through thousands of Amongus.

  At least I should be able to land.

  I scan the horizon. We are alone, and I understand Seward’s passion for the sea. It accepts your crazy thoughts, reminds you how small you are. But at the same time it surrounds you, protects you. It’s everything a good mate should be.

  We are alone.

  No, we’re not.

  Bobbing in the distance, I see a white speck. A boat or a trick of the eyes … I can’t tell. I squint, and it’s gone, but it festers in my mind. It would be just like the Council to track us.

  “I think we’re being followed.”

  Talya breathes deeply. “We probably are.”

  I bite my lip. Perhaps she has sunstroke. Perhaps she did not hear.

  “It looked like a boat, maybe,” I say.

  She closes her eyes. “I trust you’ll take care of it.”

  Her inappropriately low amount of concern puts my fears to rest. Yes, it must have been a boat. Yes, we are likely being followed. But during the last week, when has this not been true?

  I chuckle. Three months ago, I shared my soul with Old Rub, dreading the task that would be mine. Now, I captain a boat on the open sea, sought by the most powerful men in the world, transporting the most beautiful Her I have ever known.

  And yet …

  I miss home. I miss ignorance. I’ve seen a beauty I can’t fathom in the Aquifer, and met a girl who moves my heart. I’ve rediscovered my father and drawn close to a true friend in Seward. But still I long for the walk up the spiral to my class. I ache for the time when the dials were my biggest fear.

  I’m ashamed that I miss my captivity.

  The day passes slowly. The white dot makes several appearances, but always it dances in the distance.

  Talya sleeps the hours away. Night comes, and she takes the wheel while I close my eyes.

  Until the storm.

  Pummeling rain, the rarest and most violent of gifts, falls in sheets, and waves swirl, lick, and then slap the boat.

  “Capture it!” I throw open the lids of both water casks and lift my cupped hands. Water, for free.

  Talya loses her balance and crashes hard against the hull. I stumble to her side, and sweep back her hair.

  She laughs, and I stare unblinking into her joy — an unencumbered, unbridled joy that surges through her veins even as we float toward our undoing. There is no fear, only a trust I do not know, one that buoys her through scorching sun and sudden rain.

  I want her, but more than that, I want her unconquerable soul.

  We ride the crests until the bottoms fall away and we plummet into the sinks. Up and down. Darkness takes us, and southeast disappears. For all I know we are retracing the way we came.

  And then, as stealthily as it appeared, the storm vanishes, moving on to bless another sea. Stars appear and our motor makes headway.

  “That never happens. Ten full minutes of rain, it never happens … I no longer know if we’re close.” I look for clues in the sky. “I don’t know how far back the winds set us.”

  “I think not too far.” Talya points at the water, her face blank, her mirth absent. Floating toward us, a flotilla of wood. Decking, drift, mast …

  And more bodies.

  The characteristic dreadlocks of New Pert float aimlessly in the water. Men and women — mostly men — swell by. They aren’t Amongus. They are us: Doctors, teachers, neighbors. New Pertians are destroying each other.

  “I want to put ashore in Glaugood,” I say. “It’s a deep mine. Nothing’s there. Nobody is there. We should be able to set out unnoticed.”

  Talya looks up from the water. “Set out to where?”

  I wait a moment too long to answer, and she turns. My shoulders slump. Talya’s great man has no idea what he’s doing.

  Daylight and the shoreline arrive together. I hold our distance, beyond the reef, and turn south. I don’t know exactly where we are but I know we’re close to home, and I don’t want to risk another arrow-pierced welcome. My gaze traces the shoreline. I puff out air. Fortune is our companion. To the left rises the city of New Pert.

  Further on, the arch remnant of Glaugood. I quiet the engine and slowly patter toward the mine and the sea opening I first discovered with Seward.

  “This mine is submerged, but it’s filled with caves. Empty, except for one,” I say. “It’s the perfect place to hide a boat and decide what to do … Oh.”

  It is far from empty. Faces peer out from every cave. Families, many I’d seen in my previous life. The mine is filled. We float into the pit’s heart, and I spin a slow circle. Pertians stare down in silence. I duck into a windcoat and pull the hood over my head.

  “Who are they?” Talya asks.

  I shake my head and kill the engine. “Hallo! What brings you all to this place?”

  From a cave toward the top, a raspy voice calls, “You don’t know? The city is taken. Savages roam.”

  “But
can this be safe?” I ask.

  “Safe no longer exists, but we have nothing they want. They demand all our water, our food.”

  “So if you hunger and thirst, why retreat to this desolate place?”

  The voice falls silent.

  “They’re waiting for their end, Luca.” Talya plops down. “These caves … can’t you smell it? They are homes and tombs. These people are refugees. They have no place to go.”

  What is happening? A short time ago, I sat in school, staring at the dial in my eagle. I was content, sort of. Content and fooled.

  “The Amongus,” I ask the voice. “They were barricaded near the Swan.”

  “Their walls fell.” A young woman, gaunt and tired, appears at the front of her cave, a limp child in her arms. “The last I heard, only the museum is in their hands.”

  I think of the family on top of the marble building, waiting for the next transport to safety. Are they still waiting?

  “The savages you spoke of …” Talya says. “Do they meet?”

  “They have formed the ‘true’ council. In the amphitheater,” a woman answers. “From there, my eldest son and his friends spew anarchy. In the months that remain, they will no longer be controlled. They mock their dials and broadcast their anger across the world. They demand to speak with the PM.”

  I can no longer hold it in. “People, you have more than months! Rats will never turn off your flow.”

  There is no response.

  “They are resigned. They can’t believe you. I think — I fear — part of them doesn’t want to,” whispers Talya.

  I tighten my jaw. “The amphitheater. We need to get there. But not through the inlet. I can’t be sure Lendi will be there to help us this time. But before we go …”

  I draw our boat near the cave with the woman and child. “Have you any use for wood? Warmth for your son, perhaps?”

  She glances around. “Always, wood is needed.”

  I unlash the caskets from the hull, and carefully reach them to the woman. I glance around. “Enjoy the fire.”

  She lays down her child, and grasps the small barrel. She cocks her head, peers inside it and her eyes grow large, a tear tracing down her cheek. Talya hands her the second casket, and I fire up the engine and motor back into open water.