“Look,” says Nathan, “I’m not stupid, and I know what she’s been doing and why she’s been doing it. That’s why I’m saying something. Because … I don’t think that’s what she’s doing anymore.”
Which just means she’s changed tactics. “You have no issues from me, Nathan,” I say. “But … ” I don’t want to say, Don’t believe a word she says, or Don’t let her pull you around on a string. So I opt for, “Just … be smart about it.” He nods, and I get over the edge of the cliff before I have to discuss anyone else’s love life.
I jog down the slope after I hit bottom, sprint a wide circle so I can come at Reddix from a slightly different direction. I think he Knows where I’m coming from—he always Knows when I get near—but it would give me some personal satisfaction to sneak up on him at least once.
He’s staring out over the cliffs again, like he always does, and I wonder if he’s thinking about jumping. Then I wonder if anything he’s been telling me is true. If Sam’s already dead and he’s playing some kind of game to distract his mind, or trick Earth, or some other reason I don’t understand. The thought makes me sick.
I’m always sick now.
Reddix turns his head when I’m still a long way away, and I sigh. I stop my customary three meters away and he says, “You’re not well, Earthling?” He goes on, since I’m not going to answer him. “You have a sickness I understand well. Here, I thought you might be in need of a … token.”
He’s holding something out to me. I’m not wearing the glasses—I don’t want him Knowing what they can do—so I step forward like he’s that beetle on the back of Jill’s leg. What he’s offering is a small metal case of blue glass and green enamel. It’s beautiful, and it wasn’t that long ago that I would’ve studied the aesthetic and craftsmanship of Canaan for days based on it.
“Open it,” says Reddix.
I do, thinking of poison and venomous bugs. But there’s only one thing inside: a long, coiled lock of curling black hair. I snap the box shut, and I’m so mad I go calm. It’s hers. He has access to her, and he’s been touching her hair.
“She is well cared for. I gave her a wellness injection early, to help her keep her strength while she sleeps. Perhaps you didn’t know that I am also a physician?”
“And you’re one of them.”
“Them? The NWSE? Oh, yes. From a young age.” He smiles, and it’s like a cold morning in the Arctic Circle. “I was something of a prodigy.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you want the Knowing out of power?”
“It is because of the NWSE that I want that. Among other reasons … ”
I see the signs of memory beneath his calm face, but only just a little, and only because I’ve learned from Samara.
Then he says, “Tell me, Earthling. What would you give to save her?”
I don’t say anything.
“Because they will kill her. Judgment is absolute. But they may not kill her right away. The NWSE finds the condemned to be useful for obtaining … medical information.” I see another small twist beneath the exterior. “I cannot remove her, not without being seen and stopped. And even if you swept in at the last moment with your rebels of the Outside, they would kill her then and there. Throw her in the Torrens before you got near. Because justice is their obsession, especially the justice they have decreed themselves. Keeping only the best of the best, so we can make more of ourselves, maintain our own worthiness, and create the Superior Earth. That is the ultimate goal. She will not survive.”
I’m gritting my teeth. I have my own thoughts about whether Sam is going to survive this or not, but I wait until Reddix gets where he’s going.
“Here,” he says. “I have something else for you.” Reddix holds out a small glass bottle, but before he puts it in my hand, he says, “Handle it carefully. Do not break the glass or the seal.”
I take the bottle and hold it up to the very faint light of three unrisen moons. The bottle is clear, a white powder swirling inside. “What is it?”
“Forgetting,” he replies. “The Knowing’s greatest weapon. A weapon I would like to see turned on ourselves.”
My eyes snap back to the bottle. “And why are you giving it to me?”
“Because I want you to come into the Forum just before Judgment and smash that bottle onto the stones. And then the Knowing—and even the memory of Knowing—will be gone. Samara will not be Judged, and the city will belong to the Outside. Let them deal with the coming Earth.”
I stand there, staring at the weirdly calm face. “And you need me to do this because … ”
“I will be with the NWSE in seclusion, and then under scrutiny. I will not be able to enter the Forum with that bottle. And it is a bottle that has been … difficult to obtain. But there is enough there for all of the gathered Knowing, if it were to … get in the air.”
“And I suppose that means I would be Forgetting, too.”
“I asked what you would do to save her,” he says. “Is the sacrifice too much?”
If he’s playing a part, he’s playing it well. I think maybe he always plays his part well. “How does it work?”
“The powder in that bottle will go to the air and spread. Even the smallest exposure will wipe away memory, and the city will be sealed once you’re inside. They will not escape. Once in the air, the powder lasts for three days. That is all I Know.”
I doubt that. “Where does it come from?”
“It is processed in the labs, but again, that is not my field. Information is very controlled in New Canaan.” Reddix looks out over the cliffs again. “Have you ever seen Samara … in the grips of a … painful memory?”
I have. And I hate him for having seen it. I’m sure he’s the one who’s been behind those screens. Saving that data.
“Pain is a constant for the Knowing, something we can never protect ourselves well enough from. And Samara has memories that are more … agonizing than most. Would you deny her the peace of Forgetting?”
I’d already decided I’d give it to her if it killed me.
“Could you deny it to any of us?”
And now I’m wondering for the first time what Reddix remembers. He would’ve been something like eight or nine years old at the last Judgment, brought early, he’d said, into their sect. What did he see done to the condemned that he wants to Forget? I grip the bottle tight in my hand. Cyrus got better, didn’t he? He healed. Sam could heal, and so could I. “How do I get into the city?”
“Come down the shaft you used before,” he says. “I will meet you there three bells after waking, and then Judgment will come at the middle bell. But you must see Samara inside the Forum before you drop the bottle. That is important. Don’t give them a chance to kill her.” Reddix looks at my face and smiles. “We will not need to meet here again. Three bells after waking on the day of Judgment. Or there will be no saving her.”
He turns away. Evidently nothing more needs saying. I disagree.
“Wait.” Reddix pauses, but doesn’t turn around. “What makes you Knowing?”