"Make your way to the dining tent immediately. Make your way to the dining tent immediately. Make your way to the dining tent immediately."
The announcement wakes everyone in the tent in an instant.
"Hurry, hurry," says a woman to me in the dark. "We have two minutes to get to the meal hall or we'll all be in trouble."
I move quickly as do Crinae, Hyla and Chuck. We stumble out from under the canvas and follow the rest through the maze of tent pegs and tent wires and tent walls to arrive at an enormous tent filled with tables and chairs and light. And Motos. Tal points out where we are to sit and takes a seat across from us.
"When the next bell rings, that's when you rise and say the prayer for Sebastian. Even if you don't know the words you must look like you're saying something. Once you're finished, you can head to the front of the tent and get your food."
Sure enough, when the bell shrikes, everyone rises to their feet and begins chanting in unison. I've heard this creed before at the community feasts so I mumble along.
"Oh, Sebastian. Leader of good, leader of all, leader supreme.
Let us give thanks to you for our daily bread and all that you have given us.
You are one, you are us, you are perfection.
Amen"
I change the last word to "Blah blah." No way am I praising that Reg.
"Go," says Tal, pushing Crinae and Chuck up to the line where other children are heading. "You too," she nods at me. "Kids first."
I'm not kid but Crinae and Chuck certainly are and I bet they're hungry. We step into the queue of silent children and wait for our turn for food. Not that I think we want any of it. As the trays go by I see the stuff is grey and lumpy and not so delicious looking.
"Urgh," says Hyla, eyeing a plate. "That's disgusting."
There has to be at least one hundred kids here. That's a lot. I scan the rows and stop at one particular girl. There's something about her that's familiar – it's her blonde curly hair. I can't see her face. I need a closer look.
Stepping out of line, I head to the girl.
"You!" shouts a Moto at me, startling me. "Get back in your place or you'll be sorry."
I duck my head and walk back to where I was. I sidle into my spot and try to keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks. Man, this is stupid. Sniffing once or twice I send my inner crybaby back inside. There's no way the Motos are going to get me down. No way.
I pick up my head and glare at the Moto who yelled at me. Jerk. Then I stare straight ahead. Right into the eyes of Elody.
I think it's Elody.
My heart beats fast and I can't break my gaze. I can't believe what I'm seeing. Is this a dream? If I look away will she disappear?
"What are you looking at?" asks Crinae. "The Motos are watching you."
"It's Elody."
"That's not funny."
"Really! She's in front of us in the line. It's her."
"Huh?" gasps my middle sister drawing Hyla into the mix.
"What's wrong?" she asks.
"Nothing," I hiss. "Just shut up."
"Don't tell me to shut up," says Hyla, flicking my arm.
It stings and breaks my gaze from Elody. At least I know I'm not dreaming.
Elody is getting her food and moves slowly down the line. She hasn't gained much height in the past few months but she isn't her pudgy little nine-year-old self either. Her face is narrow and her cheekbones are as sharp as knives. Her Habitant clothing hangs off her. Elody hasn't smiled once and that's not like her. Her shoulders slump forward and she winces whenever someone gets too close to her.
We shuffle ahead in the queue and I watch her as she heads back to her table. When she sits down her eyes scan the room as though she's seen me. We lock eyes again but she quickly looks away. I try to spot Dad and Mom at her table but I don't know anybody except for Elody.
How do I talk to her? To ask her what happened. To see if she's all right. It's not going to happen here in the middle of all the Motos. I collect my breakfast and head back to my chair. I stare at my so-called meal. It's gross and I barely gag it down. I take a teaspoon at a time and drown the salty blob in water before swallowing. Hyla is also eating slowly while Chuck gobbles his all up. Crinae isn't touching her food at all. She puts her fork to the side of her tray softly and takes a drink of water.
Tal picks up Crinae's spoon and puts it in her hand.
"You must eat," she says quietly. "The Motos punish those who don't. I know eating this stuff is hard but it's better than what you'll get if you don't. Take a bite, honey."
Crinae picks up a glob of something and puts it in her mouth. She barely squeezes it down her throat before tears form in her eyes.
"Wipe those," Tal says sharply. "Keep eating."
Once the meal is over, we all stack our dishes and trays at the end of the table. Another Habitant gathers everything on a large rolling cart. Tal explains that the cart's taken to the kitchen.
The bell hurts my ears again and we're ordered to stand up. Motos walk around each Habitant and pat them up and down.
"What are they doing?" I whisper to Tal.
"They're searching us to make sure we didn't take a fork or an object to use as a weapon."
Oh, oh. I'm terrified. The amber is hidden in my socks. The Motos are doing a thorough job of searching each of us. This is going to be a problem. They're getting closer and closer and my heart is about to jump out of my chest.
"Something wrong with you child?" whispers Tal. "Breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out."
I listen to her instructions and try to tell my lungs to do the same. The Motos are coming closer but I focus on Elody's head a few tables away. I must survive if I want to talk to her.
They're here. One Moto grabs me by the arms and pins them behind my back. I can't believe my arms bend that way. The other Moto's hands climb up my sides and then front and back before moving on to Hyla. For some reason he didn't check my leggings. I'm weak with relief and wobble a bit.
"Steady now, girl," says Tal. "Wait until they've left to pass out."
The Inspection Squad doesn't find anything on any Aeternians today and they march out of the tent, one behind the other. All the Motos seem to be exact replicas of each other. They all look the same and walk the same. Think the same too: that we're scum of scum.
"You stink," says a Moto to Tal. He pushes her out of the door. "Get out you Habitant Terra-rist and take the rest of your filthy people with you."
Terra-rists?
"What's a Terra-rist?" I whisper to the Habitant beside me.
"That's what they call us," he says as we trot out of the tent. "They're Regs and we're Terra-rists. Terra means earth and a terrorist is someone who scares people."
The Regs are the terrorists. Not us.
Outside, Motos are calling numbers, "1012, 99, 3324..."
That's me.
"Follow our Diligence Sargent," says the Moto, pointing to a tall man standing off to the side.
I give Crinae a quick hug and walk towards the Diligence Sargent. He waves at me to stand in line with the others who had their numbers called. Crinae, Hyla and Chuck aren't in my group. I wonder where they're going.
"What's your number?" yells the Moto at me.
"3324," I say, avoiding his eyes.
"Oh," he says, now quieter. "You're a long way from home."
I'm not talking to these jerks.
The brown-haired, brown-eyed Moto steps closer to me. I take a step back. My skin crawls as he leans in and murmurs to me, "I'm from Queest too. My mom lives there."
My head spins and my nose almost collides with his. How does he know this about me? I look at him.
It's Greg, the Moto Dad talked to at the community feast.
"Does your mother have a yellow scar across her face?" I ask.
"Yes. How do you know?"
"I've met her."
"Diligence Sergeant Officer," shouts a Moto. "Shut that girl up."
Diligence Sergeant Officer Greg straightens his posture and shoves me roughly over to where the rest of the group stands. I stare at him with a look that I hope says "traitor" as I pass by him on the way out of the camp.
A Moto marches us by the tents and then we're climbing to the top of a small hill. I get a good look at what's below: an old riverbed and a couple of shacks enclosed by a fence. The fence is high and wide and snakes for as far as I can see around the camp.
It doesn't take us long to get to the rundown cottages where we're put to work. I'm put in Cottage Five, a one-room shed that's stuffy and smells like sweat from people who have hiked up a mountain and back five times like I used to do getting water. I can barely see in the dim light. There aren't any windows in here but I can make out that the place is crammed with chairs and tiny tables. I'm told to take a seat and given a needle and thread and a pile of Habitant uniforms are thrown by my feet.
I'm expected to sew and mend the clothing. I don't know how to sew. How I wish I had helped Mom with her never-ending patching pile. I hold the tiny needle in my hand and look around the room to see what others do with it.
A Habitant worker beside me taps me lightly on the shoulder and shows me how to thread the needle. When it comes to my turn, I prick my finger. A dot of red blooms on my fingertip and I watch it as it grows into a round spot and then trickles down into my palm.
"You can bleed all you want," says a Moto standing over me. "You guys are the ones who have to wear this shoddy stuff."
I flinch as her horrid breath wafts past my nostrils.
"Oh, poor Terra-rist," she rants. "Doesn't know how to sew. Well, learn. Fast."
The material is tough to get a needle through and I poke my fingers again, over and over again. The red from the blood gets absorbed by the blue fabric and I keep going.
"Is that blood on your work 3324?" asks a second Moto.
"Yes?" I say dropping my head. "That woman over there said it was okay."
"That woman? That woman is Supreme Endeavour Officer Lewandowska. Are you suggesting that she said you could do shoddy work?"
I keep my eyes trained on the floor. Trained on the murky shapes on the wood under my feet. "Answer me directly," screeches the Moto, cupping his hand under my chin and forcing me to look at him.
"Yes," I snap, my eyes burning into his.
"No one insults an officer. No one! I know what'll tame you."
The Moto grabs my arm and starts dragging me out of the room. No one stops their stitching to look at me. No one blinks or bats an eye as I struggle to free myself.
"Leave me alone," I shout as I push against the man. "Take your hands off me."
"This will teach you," snarls the Moto and shoves me with both hands into a small, dark cupboard and slams the door shut.
"Let me out!" I cry and wail and pound my fists on the hard wooden door. A sliver slides into my palm.
"Ouch!"
I hold my hand and weep. This is where life has taken me. To a lightless storage room that barely fits two people sitting down.
Two people?
There's someone else in the cupboard with me. I hear them moving in between my sniffles. At least, I hope it's a person.
"Who's there?" I say as strong as my teary voice will let me.
"It's me," replies a young voice.
"Elody?" I say shaking with anticipation.
"Ya, it's me."
"Elody!"
I grope for my sister's hand and pull her towards me to give her a hug.
"What are you doing in here?" I ask.
"I'm part of the tailoring workstation," she says. "The needle is too big for me and hurts my fingers."
"Are you okay?"
"Guess so."
"Where are Dad and Mom?"
Elody doesn't answer.
"What?" I say. "What's wrong?"
"Dad's dead," she says calmly.
"No, he's not," I say. "He's part of the Resistance. There's no way the Motos got him."
"I saw him die."
"What? How?"
"Goliath grabbed me from Magda's and the first thing he did was throw a sack over my head," says Elody in a flat voice. "I couldn't breathe and I told him and he took the bag off. He put me in a cage attached to a big motorbike with a bunch of other kids. Then he drove us to the Four-Way in the sandpour.
"I was the only one who could sort of see so I told the kids where we were. I could see some adults tied up and being guarded by Motos there. One was Dad.
"After the storm stopped, Goliath took me out of the cage and put the bag back on my head again. I could still see out of it a bit. The Moto marched Dad and the other adults up the left trail with the cliff on one side. I'm pretty sure I saw Goliath push Dad off the mountain. I'm pretty sure I heard him yell out for me. I'm pretty sure I heard his screams while he was falling."
"Pretty sure?" I say. "But not for certain?"
"Pretty sure."
"So he could still be alive couldn't he?" My tone rises with hope. "He could be out there looking for us then!"
"No, no. He's not," says Elody matter-of-factly. "He's dead. I heard him stop screaming."
It takes everything in my power not to shake Elody. She's already been through a hundred lifetimes of pain, but come on, to say Dad's dead without clear proof? There's got to be some other explanation.
"Naia," says my younger sister who seems much older than me now. "Hope is of no use to us here. We must face the facts that no one is looking for us. No one is going to help us. No one is coming for us. Sebastian is going to use us as he sees fit and if we cause more trouble than we're worth he's going to kill us."
How can she be talking like this?
"I'll find a way out," I tell Elody. "We'll get out of here. I'll get us out of here."
"You can't even get out of this cubbyhole," says Elody. "It's no use," she sighs and shoves me away from me.
The door opens and a Moto yanks on my hair, pulling me out of the cupboard by my roots. I crawl as quickly as I can out of the closet and stagger to my feet.
"Back to work," she snaps, pushing me in the direction of my station.
I glance back to see if she's grabbing Elody. She's not.
"What are you looking at Terra-rist?" the Moto glowers, picking off strands of my hair from her plump fingers.
I say nothing and head straight to my sewing. My hands flutter and shake as my thoughts fly everywhere thinking about Dad and Elody and Mom. I know I'm going to get in trouble again, it's just a matter of time.