Perhaps she was the recruiter, and always had been.
He would ask Micah and the others, and they would tell him because he was one of them now. He’d just need to give it a little while. He reminded himself to remain silent, to listen, until the right moment presented itself.
*
The next morning, August held up a new secretarial prop, this time an old-school reporter’s notepad, which fit like a Device in the palm of his hand. “It’s time to start plans for the next journey. I’ll probably go in a few weeks, so I need to get another list going. Of needs.”
Cal had quickly learned that a journey meant a trip to Pines. Not to be confused with a round, which referred to August’s regular survey of the areas around the Land. From what Cal had gathered, there were only a few settlers scattered in a hundred-mile radius. All were peaceful, and few interacted with one another. On a round, August’s job was to make sure the settlers stayed put. They were not to go exploring. On a journey, August avoided these settlers; he had but one goal, and it was to get to the Community.
“They’ve asked us to report on the rate of disease,” Micah said.
“What’s the concern?” Peter asked.
“Probably isn’t one,” Micah replied. “They just want to feel smug that their mortality rate has leveled off. You know, that they’re truly protected.”
“I’m sure they’re vigilant about possible viruses,” Sailor ventured. No one responded.
“Let’s ask them, straight up, why they need that information,” August finally said to Micah. “They’ve been more forthcoming lately.” Micah nodded. August held up the reporter’s notebook and said, “And what do we need from them?”
Sailor leaned forward, his eyes rolled up to the ceiling, as if he were trying to recall the capital of some far-off country. “Housekeeping needs vinegar and another set of mops, if we can get them, and we’re low on iodine tablets. Anika wants the baking crate replenished.”
“Of course she does,” Dave said, and snorted.
“She does have a lot of requests,” August said. “Remember when we got her ChapStick with SPF? It was hard to get one tube, but once she had it, all the other women wanted one for themselves? We don’t want another situation like that on our hands.
“This list will be tough, too. Last time I was there, it wasn’t easy getting the iodine tablets. The demand is so high. They’re paranoid about the water supply. Lord knows why, with their filtration system.”
“Water at Pines tastes like a motherfucking swimming pool,” Micah said.
Everyone laughed except Cal. He knew he shouldn’t be shocked by the conversation, but this was the first time he’d witnessed the men make plans for a journey. They were being so casual about it. And why not? The facts seemed simple: August trekked to a Community, to Pines, to procure the Land’s supplies. And to get those supplies? They provided information: the rate of disease, who might be a threat, who was out here. Could that be all? It seemed too easy.
August said they could revisit the list of needs the next day, and the men fell silent.
“Now that August’s back,” Micah said after a moment, “the Vote is upon us.”
“Only one or two are uncertain,” Sailor said.
“It should be unanimous,” Peter said. “Even if it doesn’t have to be.”
Cal didn’t want to know how Micah planned to convince people to vote a particular way. Something to do with denying requests for supplies from Pines, perhaps.
On his way out of the Church, Peter called Cal’s name.
Cal hung back and let the others step outside ahead of them. Once the two were alone, Peter asked, “How’s Frida?”
“Great. She really likes Anika, actually. I know you guys think she’s sort of schoolmarmish, but she’s been welcoming to Frida.”
“I see,” Peter said.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just let me know if anything changes.” He ran a hand along his chin, which was peppered with stubble. “She’s a tricky one,” he said after a moment, and Cal didn’t know if he meant Anika or Frida. “Any changes in Frida, physically speaking?”
“I think she’s showing, but she says I’m nuts.”
“You are. She isn’t.”
It made Cal feel strange, imagining Peter watching Frida, eyeing her body for that tell-tale rise above her belly button. It wasn’t his job.
“You’d like a kid here,” Cal said. It seemed obvious to him now.
Peter laughed, but it was too big, too horsey, to be convincing.
“Everyone would,” Cal added.
“Not everyone.”
“I’ve thought about what you told me before,” Cal said. “How Micah can change.”
Peter had started walking toward the open door. “It’s not that he can or can’t change,” he said quietly. “It’s more that he isn’t the person he projects himself to be. Not exactly.”
“No shit. He faked being a martyr.”