The last rules on the sheet were against picking fruits or flowers, and no food-bearing vegetation could be planted anywhere without state permission, including in our own backyards.
I had no idea why that was. I was a child of hanging fruits and flowers, rooftop gardens and vegetable patches. I had no idea how long it would take me to get used to this—if I ever would get used to it.
Anna’s voice broke through my thoughts; she had picked up the loudspeaker again. “Now, it is getting late, ladies and gentlemen, and we still need to distribute those registration forms, assuming you all still wish to stay?”
She widened her eyes in question and looked around the crowd.
Nobody said a word to the contrary, but nobody said a word in affirmation either. We just… stood there, in limbo.
But Anna assumed the silence to be an affirmative. She gestured for her colleagues to begin distributing two tall stacks of paper, which they had pulled out of a large bag, along with a big box of pens.
“It’s getting dark out here now, so I suggest you take a pen and a form, and then head back into the building,” Anna said. “You can take your time to read the declaration and sign it inside. It’s a simple three-line statement that you accept allterms of residence and agree to become a loyal settler of Fairwell. There’s also a form on the back that requires a few personal details: your full name, date of birth, relationship to other settlers, and some basic biometric stats such as your height, eye and hair color, approximate weight, and so on. Parents, you must fill in the sheets on behalf of your children. And whoever has relatives that couldn’t make it outside for the presentation this evening”—here, her eyes settled on me—“take extra copies indoors and explain the situation. Have the forms ready for tomorrow morning, when we come to pick you up. We’ll arrive at 9 a.m. with transport, so please be ready. All children will travel with you, for now. We will deal with their longer-term care over the next few days.”
As her colleagues distributed the papers, I waited in line with my friends and family. The bells reverberated atop the mountain, somehow sounding less beautiful and more eerie at this late hour. I glanced up at the looming island, now a black jagged shadow, reminding me almost of open jaws, gaping up toward the dark heavens—the faint twinkling of lights among the slopes the only hint of life.
I looked away, shivering as a chill breeze touched my skin. Accepting four copies of the form and a pen, I turned back toward the building.
TEN
My parentsand Bea were asleep when I returned, a curtain drawn around their beds. I didn’t have the heart to wake them, not when they needed the sleep so badly, and decided instead to delay our conversation until morning.
I found a relatively quiet spot in one corner of the hallway outside to curl up in with Jessie. The nurses had given everyone extra blankets, and we tried to pad them out beneath us as much as we could. But they were thin, and nothing like the thick, soft mattresses they had back on the hover ship, or for that matter the coconut fiber ones we had back home.
Or what used to be home.
As much as I needed to sleep, of course I couldn’t. Not with the prospect of tomorrow’s conversation looming in my mind. I kept running over how I was going to break it to my parents, how we could explain it to Bea. Every plan my brain spat out felt woefully inadequate. It took several hours for me to finally surrender and stop trying to plan it out. There was no easy way to break the news. My parents were going to be forced to partwith their three-year-old daughter, entrusting her to the hands of strangers, with no fixed date for her return.
By the time the first rays of dawn trickled through the windows on either end of the corridor, I was itching to get it over with. Leaving Jessie, I entered my parents’ ward and crept toward their curtain. I pulled it aside gently and found my father awake, while my mother was stirring. To my relief, Bea still slept.
My parents both looked disorientated, and I suspected they hadn’t meant to fall asleep so early last night. I stooped beneath my father’s bed, where I had left the forms along with a pen, and then stood up, gazing down at them.
My mother was now fully awake and they both tensed up at my somber expression.
“What happened?” my mother whispered, adjusting the blanket slightly around her and Bea.
I drew in a deep breath, and then told them, as quietly as I could—I did not want my sister waking up before I had finished.
By the time I was done and had shown them the forms we needed to sign, the blood had drained from their faces.
“W-Will we at least get to meet the people taking her in?” my mother whispered, her voice hoarse.
“I’ll do my best to arrange it,” I replied, clutching her hand. “At the very least, arrange formeto meet them. Anna hasn’t specified the exact process; just said arrangements will start taking place from today.”
“You need to insist on meeting them,” my father said firmly. “That’s not too much to ask!”
I nodded, swallowing. “Iwillask and do my best to check out the family. And then… What day of the week is it?” I suddenly felt disorientated. I glanced up at a clock on the wall, which displayed a weekday beneath the time.Tuesday.
I blew out. “I’ll be able to visit Bea on Sunday, at least.”
“You should try to get her together with at least one of your cousins,” my mother said, planting a firm kiss on Bea’s forehead and holding her closer. The movement made Bea stir, and I gulped, nodding, dreading the moment she would wake up. “That way, at least she’ll stay with family.”
“I’ll discuss with Uncle Vance and Auntie Naomi, and we’ll make a request,” I promised softly.
“Where’s Muncle Vance an’ Nauntie Aomi,” Bea slurred. She partially lifted her heavy eyelids, slowly rising to consciousness.
I exchanged an anxious glance with my parents, then looked back at her. “Um, I’m not sure where they are,” I said. “Probably with Zina.”
“What’s that?” Bea mumbled, brushing the tangled locks of hair from her face as she eyed with confusion the papers our parents were holding.
