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The older Ky has turned his face away from the vil age in the middle, from the other boy. His hands are no longer open. They are clenched.
Behind him, people in Official uniforms watch him. His lips curve in a smile that never touches his eyes; he wears plainclothes, a line indicating the crisp crease where he’s ironed them neat.
at first when the rain fell
from the sky so wide and deep
it smelled like sage, my favorite smell
I went up on the plateau to watch it come
to see the gifts it always brought
but this rain changed from blue to black
and left
nothing.
There’s a drought of Officials at the game center, even though the center itself brims with people playing, winning, losing. I see three Officials, watching the largest of the game tables. They look earnest and on edge in their white uniforms, their faces showing more stress than usual. This is strange. Usual y, we have twelve or more lower-level Officials in the center, keeping the peace, keeping score. Where are the rest of them tonight?
Somewhere, things aren’t going quite right.
But here, as far as I’m concerned, at least one thing has. Ky’s with us. I look at him once as we weave our way through the masses of people, fol owing Xander, hoping that Ky understands from that look that I have read his story, that I care. He walks right behind me and I want to reach back and take his hand but there are too many people. The one thing I can do for Ky is to help keep him safe, to hold onto what I want to say until there is a good place to say it. And to remember the words he wrote, the pictures he made, even though I wish that part of the story had never happened to him.
His parents died. He saw it happen. Death came from the sky, and that’s what he remembers. Every time it rains.
Xander stops and so we al do, too. To my surprise, he gestures to a game table where the games played are one-on-one. Games Xander doesn’t usual y play. He likes to take on a group, to win when the stakes are higher and more players are involved. It’s a better test of his abilities—
more chal enging, more variables. Less personal. “You want to play?” Xander asks.
I turn to see who he means.
Ky.
“Al right,” Ky says without hesitation, nothing revealed in his voice. He keeps his eyes on Xander, waiting for the next move.
“What kind of game do you want to play? Skil or chance?” Is there a trace of chal enge in Xander’s voice? His face remains perfectly even, as does Ky’s.
“I don’t care,” Ky answers.
“How about a game of chance, then,” Xander says, which surprises me again. Xander hates games of chance. He much prefers ones that involve actual skil .
Em and Piper and I stay, watching, as Xander and Ky sit down and scan their cards into the datapod at the table. Xander sets out the playing cards, red with black markings in the center, first stacking the edges even with two sharp hits of the deck against the metal. “Want to go first?” Xander asks Ky, and Ky nods and reaches to draw.
“What game are they playing?” someone asks next to me. Livy. She’s here for Ky, I’m sure of it, her eyes possessive as she watches his hands over the cards.
His hands are not yours to watch, I think to her, and I remember again that they aren’t mine, either. I should be watching Xander. I should be hoping for Xander to win.
“Prisoner’s dilemma,” Em says next to me. “They’re playing prisoner’s dilemma. ”
“What’s that?” Livy asks.
She doesn’t know the game? I turn to her in surprise. It’s one of the simplest, most common games. Em tries to explain it to Livy in a low voice so she doesn’t disturb the players. “They each put down a card at the same time. If they both have an even card, they each get two points. If they’re both odd, then they each get one point. ”
Livy interrupts Em. “What if one has even and one has odd?”
“If one is even and one is odd, the person who puts down the odd card gets three points. The person who puts down the even one gets zero. ” Livy’s eyes fix on Ky’s face. Jealously, I think that even if she sees him in the same amount of detail that I do—which I doubt—she doesn’t know anything about him. Would she stil be so interested in Ky if she knew about his status as an Aberration?
I have a thought that strikes me cold: Would I be so interested if I didn’t know that he’s an Aberration? I never paid Ky particular attention before I knew about his classification.
And before you saw his face on the microcard, I remind myself. Naturally, that piqued your interest. Besides. You weren’t supposed to be interested in anyone until you were Matched.
I feel a little sick thinking that Livy might see Ky’s true worth in a way that is somehow more pure; she’s simply interested in him. No hidden reasons. No tangles. No extra layers beneath her basic attraction to him.
But then again, I realize, I never know. She could be hiding something, as I am. We could al be hiding something.
