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HQ was a single large cabin. The only building with a second story. It would be quick work to search it. “We’re going to check it out tonight.”
She grinned. “If your poor, weary bones can take creeping around cat-burglar style?”
His weary bones moved fast enough to swat her pert little ass, earning him a kick aimed at his shin that almost connected. He backed off, hands up in submission. “What’s this dance tonight?” There’d been talk about it in the dining hall at breakfast.
“Highlight of the season, Cadence says. We need to show up, be seen. Go do our break and enter and then make sure we’re back before the final waltz or whatever.”
It was a good plan. Better if they could find a drawer full of cell phones and he didn’t have to find an excuse to go whooping it up in a spruce forest.
“Come on.” She shifted her weight foot to foot, her ponytail bobbing. “I have to get back.”
Her lunchtime shift. “Wait. Tell me about this job.”
She stopped moving. “It’s the torture they devised for me. You got hardcore work and sleeping rough and I got being made to feel useless.”
“Oh shit, Rory, that’s—” It was like they’d guessed part of the real reason she was here was to restore her own faith in her abilities.
She kicked at the ground. “Cult indoctrination 101.”
They were stripping her of her competence to make her feel insecure. That and her fear something bad had happened to him, thanks to Cal and his hyper-vigilant warnings, explained her reaction last night. She was much more herself this morning.
“Wait them out. This is a long con, we won’t get it all done in the first week.”
She grinned. “That’s good because I don’t think you’re quite ready to be a father.”
He scrubbed both hands through his hair. “I happened to mention that, did I?”
Rory had a smart-ass expression on her face. “It was a notable info drop.”
That’s all it would ever be. “They’re big on growing the next generation. But they’re not so big on the family unit. Traditional families are considered quaint. A hangover from the decay that’s tolerated, especially for those that came in that way, but they’re otherwise discouraged.”
“Another way to isolate people,” she said. “If they want you to father a kid, you have to bond with someone.” She shuddered. “And that means they’ll expect me to bond with someone. There are pregnant women galore here.”
“We have time before we have to worry about that. They might be a little detached from reality but they’re not going to want us to breed until they know they control us.” The whole concept made him itchy. But it wasn’t any worse than the idea of casual end of the world slavery.
“You didn’t hear what the women said about you in the dining hall. You won’t need to try hard to find a starter wife.”
He grimaced. “Very sure I don’t want to hear about that. I did learn they think pregnant women approach sacredness.”
She shifted foot to foot again. “They’re right about that. Women have been raising families without deadbeat dads for centuries.”
Rory was on point there. But the Continuer approach essentially institutionalized it. All the men on the construction crew were fathers, none of them had any hand in bringing up their kids and claimed that was a benefit. They might not have voice-activation tech, but fatherhood inside Abundance was hands-free.
“We really have to go,” Rory said, “I get the night off, no corners to hide in at a barbecue. I can’t be late for lunch.”
Since he could eat a tractor, he had no complaints about that.
He didn’t see Rory again until that evening when he called at her cabin to collect her. Cadence opened the door with curl up and die written all over her face. “Oh, it’s you. She’s in the bathroom.”
No point antagonizing her. “I can wait out here.”
“Suit yourself.” She left the door ajar and disappeared from view.
He called after her. “Thank you for letting me stay over.” Then shook his head at his transparent attempt to soften her.
She appeared in the doorway, frowning. “I know what you’re doing.”
He pulled a face. “Barking up the wrong tree?”
