I looked again at the building and wondered if anyone had beenkilled. Even if not, their home was wrecked. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the building fell to pieces after the fire was done with it. It was already crumbling terribly from the missile force, plus whatever possessions they depended on for survival would be scorched. In reality there would be no going back after this. Just like there hadn’t been for our home.
“We are terribly sorry,” Anna repeated, gazing down at the crowd of pale, terrified faces. “I know it’s not much consolation, but we have somewhere to take you, where you can have food, shelter and warmth, and recover. We have friends here who were recently in the same position as you.” She gestured toward Jessie and me, and several other mentees who had also jumpedout of the pods in alarm. “We can take you in and provide shelter for as long as you require it.”
My heart hammered in my chest as the crowd of pale, uncertain faces gazed at me—looking at me with a mix of fear and uncertainty. Anna looked at me, too, as if expecting me to chime in.
But I stood frozen. My throat felt clogged. I didn’t know what I could say to these people. What Iwantedto say to these people.
“We’re calling for backup,” Anna assured the crowd. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe.”
I could only stare as Anna began talking into something in the cockpit and presumably called headquarters… making arrangements to bring us all back to Fairwell.
THIRTY-ONE
I was too shakento speak for the rest of the return journey. I didn’t even want tolookat Anna. It was probably a good thing that we ended up traveling too squashed to make eye contact. A group of three children and a mother somehow fit in the pod with us. They cowered in one corner and didn’t seem to speak any English at all. I didn’t know what language they spoke. The thirteen small aircraft couldn’t take everyone, so a hover ship was due to come for the rest of them.
But, after we reached Fairwell and deposited the small family on the islet, where they were escorted to temporary accommodation in the crumbling outreach building, I couldn't remain silent any longer.
“I need to talk to you, Anna,” I said as we climbed out of the aircraft onto the roof of Springs’ Turret. I tried to keep my voice steady but the last time I opened my mouth I’d been screaming.
She adjusted the backpack on her shoulders and ran a broad hand down her face. “I'm exhausted, honestly. But come down and we'll talk.”
I glanced at Jessie, figuring that I preferred to speak to my “mentor” one-on-one, rather than in a group. Jessie could say whatever she wanted to Gerard on her own.
I followed Anna off the roof, down the stairwell into the interior of their home. She led me a couple of floors down, into an enormous, circular bedroom, streaked with beige, cream and purple shades. A modernistic sketch of a unicorn presided over her huge, silken bed.
I looked directly at her as she sank onto the mattress, clutching her feet and massaging her toes.
“I need you to tell me what happened back there,” I said. My fists were involuntarily clenched, my nails digging into the flesh of my palms. “Howdid it happen? I just don't understand.”
I didn't even know what the use was in having this conversation with her. It wasn't going to get those terrified people’s home back. Somehow, I just needed to know, even if only to try to come to terms with what had just happened, what we—whatI—had just done.
Anna leaned back against her headboard and let out a sigh. “As I said, it was an error. I'm not part of the intel team, but sometimes these things happen. Maybe some nomads were near that area, but the team got the wrong spot. We’ll do an investigation to figure out what happened since, obviously, we want to get the right people next time.”
Next time. The words made me feel sick. I couldn’t see there being a next time for me. I couldn’t see myself risking doing this again.
“So they didn't even check out the area properly?” I asked, feeling my blood pressure rise. “I mean, it wasn't difficult to see that they were primitive people. All it would have taken was for someone to hang around a while, watch them come outside,and see that these weren't the real targets. I simply don't understand how?—"
“Tani, what is the purpose of this questioning?” Anna's voice suddenly had a sharp edge to it. She stared at me, and I saw a hard glint in her eyes that I had rarely seen before, much less when she had spoken to me.
I paused for a moment, unsure of how to respond and feeling taken aback by the manner in which her mood had switched. “I can't tell you exactly what the purpose is,” I said in a quieter, though no less resolved, tone. “I suppose what’s done is done and we can’t erase the past. But what I do know is I can’t witness anything like that ever again.”
Anna continued to stare at me. “Really?” she asked after a long heartbeat, as if she could hardly believe my response. “That's really your threshold? You draw a line on the first day?!”
I frowned. What did she expect me to answer? That I would be happy to risk taking direct part in obliterating the home of more helpless people? At the very least I needed concrete assurances that this would never happen again, and maybe admission into the “intel” team myself, so that I could see with my own eyes that we were targeting the right people. There were obviously serious flaws in the current set up!
I was about to open my mouth to respond when Anna simply shook her head. “I’m sorry, Tani. I don’t have time to argue with you. We’re not supposed to be arguing. That’s not how this is supposed to work. I don’t want to have to persuade you to do anything. I don’t have the time for it. It should be obvious that, in this department, things can get messy. Not everything is going to be topped off with a pretty little bow. And I can’t guarantee you won’t see more like you saw today. I can’t guarantee you won’t see worse. So, it’s really up to you. Ifyou prefer, you can go off and do your own thing—whatever you want.”
Although she simply stared at me, she might as well have grabbed me by the throat. The unspoken threat in her words rang loud in my ears, and my mind instantly returned to my parents in the hospital.
“I'm not saying I won't work,” I said, feeling tension building in my temples. “I don't want to go off and do my own thing. I... I want to work in outreach. I want to help people, and I want to find the best way to do that.”
“We have an entire team figuring out the strategy,” she replied, no longer masking the impatience in her voice. “With all due respect, it’s not something we need you for. So you have a choice to make. Continue with the program and realize you're gonna have to take the rough with the smooth—whatever that may entail—or go off and do your own thing. As you know, both you and I have a way out of this contract.”
She spoke as if I actually did have a way out. As though my parents’ lives weren’t dependent on the pieces of paper we had signed down in the halls of FairBank. As though I could live any semblance of a worthwhile life if I rejected her mentorship. How did I have a way out? The moment I retreated, the coins would vanish and my parents’ lives would be back on the line. I didn’t even want to think about the risks that would come with suddenly destabilizing them and throwing them back into the islet building.
How could I do that to myparents?
She, on the other hand, could probably quite easily find a replacement for me.
