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Indie’s right. I can sort. Already I’ve figured out what the white words say: Turn Again Home.
It’s from the Tennyson poem. It’s Rising territory. Home, they’ve called it. And the way to get to it is by following the stream where the Society dropped poison and Vick died.
“How do you know I can sort?” I ask Indie, putting down the map and pretending I haven’t decoded it yet.
“I’ve been listening,” she says. And then she leans forward. With the two of us sitting in the glow of the flashlight, it seems like the rest of the world has gone black and I’m left alone with her and what she thinks of me. “I know who you are. ” She leans even closer. “And who you’re supposed to be. ”
“Who am I supposed to be?” I ask her. I don’t lean away. She smiles.
“The Pilot,” she says.
I laugh and sit back. “No. What about that poem you told Cassia? That talks about a woman being the Pilot. ”
“It’s not a poem,” Indie says fiercely.
“A song,” I say, realizing. “The words used to have music behind them. ” I should have known.
Indie exhales in frustration. “It doesn’t matter how the Pilot comes or if it’s a woman or a man. The idea is the same. I understand that now. ”
“I’m still not the Pilot. ”
“You are,” she says. “You don’t want to be, so you’re running away from the Rising. Someone needs to bring you back to the rebellion. That’s what I’m trying to do. ”
“The Rising isn’t what you imagine,” I say. “It’s not Aberrations and Anomalies and rebels and rogues running free. It’s a structure. A system. ”
She shrugs. “Whatever it is, I want to be part of it. I’ve been thinking about it my whole life. ”
“If you think this will take us to the Rising, why give it to me?” I ask Indie, holding up the map. “Why not give it right to Cassia?”
“We’re the same,” she whispers. “You and me. We’re more alike than you and Cassia. We could leave right now. ”
She’s right. I do see myself in Indie. I feel a pity so deep for her that it might be something else entirely. Empathy. You have to believe in something to survive. She’s picked the Rising. I chose Cassia.
Indie’s been quiet for a long time. Hiding. Running. On the move. I put my hand next to hers. I don?
??t touch her fingers. But she can see the marks on them. I have scars from living here the first time that no Citizen of the Society would have.
She looks at my hand. “How long?” she asks.
“How long what?”
“How long have you been an Aberration?”
“Since I was a child,” I say. “I was three years old when they Reclassified us. ”
“And who caused it?”
I don’t want to answer but I can tell we’re on the edge. It’s as though she holds to the walls of a canyon. If I move wrong she will look over her shoulder, let go, and take her chances with the fall. I have to give her a little piece of my story.
“My father,” I answer. “We were Citizens in the Society. We lived in one of the Border Provinces. Then the Society accused him of having ties with a rebellion and sent us all out to the Outer Provinces. ”
“Was he a rebel?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say. “And then when we moved to the Outer Provinces he convinced our village to join with him. Almost everyone died. ”
“You still love him, though,” she says.
I’m on the edge with her now. She knows it. I have to tell the truth if I’m going to keep her hanging on.
I take a deep breath. “Of course I do. ”
I said it.
Her hand rests on the ground next to me against the splintered floorboards. The rain outside the window falls in gold and silver dashes in the beam from my flashlight. Without thinking I touch her fingers gently.
“Indie,” I tell her, “I’m not the Pilot. ”
She shakes her head. She doesn’t believe me. “Just read the map,” she tells me. “Then you’ll know everything. ”
“No,” I say. “I won’t know everything. I won’t know your story. ” This is a cruel thing to do because when someone knows your story they know you. And they can hurt you. It’s why I give mine away in pieces, even to Cassia. “If I’m going to go with you, I have to know about you. ” I’m lying. I won’t go with her to the Rising, no matter what. Does she know that?
“It all started when you ran,” I say, encouraging her.
She looks at me, deciding. Suddenly—even though she is so sharp-edged—I want to reach out and hold her close. Not the way I hold Cassia. Just as someone who also knows what it means to be an Aberration.
“It all started when I ran,” she says.
I lean closer to listen. Indie speaks more softly than usual as she remembers. “I wanted to escape the work camp. When they dragged me back to the air ship I thought I’d lost my last chance to get away. I knew we’d die in the Outer Provinces. Then I saw Cassia on the ship. She didn’t belong there, or in the camp either. I’d been through her things and I knew that she wasn’t an Aberration.
“So why did she sneak on board the ship? What did she think she could find?” Indie looks straight into my eyes while she talks, and I can see she tells the truth. For the first time she’s completely open. She’s beautiful when she’s not holding back.
