And now I Know. Why Marcus didn’t understand Reddix’s plan. Why Mother made all of the Knowing immune. Because Mother doesn’t Know what immunity does. Did Uncle Towlend never show her those pages after he found them, hidden in the front niche of the map book? He should have. We’re Archivas. But Aunt Letitia was gone not long after that, and then the Archives closed. Maybe Reddix and I are the only ones to have read those pages since my uncle and Janis Atan.
I rise through my mind and open my eyes. And Marcus Physicianson is only a meter away from my face, a knife in his hand, the one I dropped, with “NWSE” engraved on the blade.
“It was because of you, wasn’t it?” he says. There’s no calmness to him now. “It was because of you … ”
He jumps forward, I leap back, and then he drops to the platform like a stone. Because he’s been hit with one. I look up and find Angela, Michael’s mother, with a piece of rubble in her hand.
“Cyrus said you weren’t supposed to be alone,” she says, a little shocked. I glance down. Marcus is breathing, but he’s not moving. And I’m shaking. I look up again.
“Where’s Michael?”
“With his father.” She nods her head toward the crowded Forum, and the foolish thought that comes into my head is that now Angela must know I’m from Underneath. I suppose she always did. She says, “You did something to him, didn’t you?”
I think she means Michael. I don’t Know what to say.
“You fixed him, didn’t you?”
I nod.
“Thank you.” We look at each other. “You go on. I’ll take care of this.”
“Make sure Michael rests,” I say. I step away. I’m not sure what “taking care of this” means, but it might have something to do with Marcus and the Torrens. And then I move quicker, because Annis is coming down the steps from the entrance hall, Jasmina on her hip, Ari and Luc holding hands just behind her. I meet her halfway across the Forum and hug her until Jasmina protests.
“Where’s Beckett?” I ask.
Annis frowns. “I don’t know.”
“Didn’t he get the children?”
“No, I did. Do you know where Nathan is?”
“He was on the gates. Isn’t he there?”
“No.”
Annis meets my gaze, and then I hear an echoing boom in the Forum. But this is a familiar sound. Metallic and final, a noise I can feel deep in my insides. The gates are shut, and it won’t be safe to open them again. Not until Earth is gone, or three days after the white sunrise.
And we are not all inside.
I don’t know,” I reply. What I do know is to expect the fist in my gut as a reward for my nonanswer. I cough hard, and it takes a few agonizing seconds to get my breath back.
“So let’s try again,” says Commander Juniper Faye. “What kind of weapons do the locals have?”
We’ve been “trying again” for a lot longer than either one of us would like. My back is against the stained and pitted post in the center of the Bartering Square, hands cuffed behind me on the other side, facing a squad of about twenty-five soldiers, Faye’s inner circle. Jillian is here, and her mother, Vesta, standing in front of the water clock tower, and if they’d just turn their heads and look all the way back into the window of the potter’s workshop, they’d see that Nathan is with us, too. Watching. When I give an unsatisfactory answer, I get fists. When I take too long to speak at all, it’s the stunsticks.
And now I’ve taken too long, and I get two of them. One in the neck and one in the knee. The stunsticks are “humane” because they won’t leave an injury or even a mark. What they will do is stimulate my nerves to excruciating pain. There’s no way not to yell, and when they take them away, I feel blood on my hands. I pulled so hard I’ve cut my wrists on the cuffs. I blink, panting. When they move up to three, I might start making things up.
“All right. Again,” says the Commander. “What kind of weapons … ”
“Jill,” I say, my voice hoarse from yelling, “what did you do with the kids?” Vesta tightens an arm around her daughter. She seems to think I’m getting what I deserve, but Jill’s face is a blank wall. “Where are they?” I shout. If she handed them over, I’m going to break out of these cuffs and kill her. As soon as I can stand upright.
Vesta shakes her head, but Jill decides to answer. “They’re with Irene next door.”
Juniper Faye clicks her tongue. “Oh, Rodriguez. Why couldn’t you have been more like her?” She nods her head at Jill. “She gave us a map that is going to be very useful going door to door … ”
All those trips with Nathan to the orchard groves, high on the mountainside. A perfect aerial view. And I’ll bet she showed Nathan the cartographer. Jill won’t look at me.
“But like father, like son, I suppose. He tried to blow up my ship. And what have you been up to?”
She fingers my rough cloth. I’m so desperate to know about Mom and Dad it hurts, but asking won’t change anything, and I won’t give her the satisfaction. “You know exactly what I’ve been up to. Because you’ve already uploaded all of my files.”
Faye smiles. “True. Very interesting viewing, some of that. But your data was a little thin on weaponry. Let’s stop playing. You do understand that it doesn’t matter what she did with whoever’s children? We’re taking all of them with us. And as soon as we have them all, this place will be razed to the bare ground. People assimilate so much better when there’s no home to go back to. Or haven’t you learned that in your history lessons, young professor?”
I don’t say anything.
“They’re outgunned no matter what, Rodriguez. Your information only saves lives at this point.”
Lives she’s getting paid for.
“So,” the Commander says, “we have a power source, but we can’t see. Why do you think that it is? That we couldn’t see this city?”
“Rock,” I say, hoping to gain a few seconds before the next blow. “It interferes with communications. And I guess you noticed it explodes.”
She’s losing her temper. “What kind of weapons are these locals holding? How much have they got of the Centauri II?” But instead of waiting for my lack of an answer, she holds up a finger, listening to her earpiece. Then she says, “Finchley, turn your soldiers.”
The squad spins a one-eighty like they were one person. And then I see why. There’s a group of people entering the Bartering Square. Eight of them. Thorne, Craddock, Lian Archiva, the man with the long ropes of hair who kicked away the katana. Everyone I saw huddled together at the base of the platform. The NWSE, walking with the serenity and elegance that is their trademark. It makes Juniper Faye look like she’s the one who’s pretech.
I’m kind of doubting this is a rescue mission.
Sam’s mother stops in front of Faye, and the two women size each other up. Lian Archiva is willowy, her white hair in complicated braids, clothes glistening weirdly under the lights of the ship. Faye is set heavier, feet apart, poofed hair bobbed, and with a badge on her sleeve. She looks like she could win if this showdown came to fists. I’m not sure who would win the contest of cruel.
“I have no objection to you doing whatever you wish with this young man,” Lian says, her accent particularly smooth against the sound of Earth. “But if you have a question, then why not ask it directly? Your source will be so much better.”
She smiles, and Commander Faye smiles. “And who are you?”