Aquifer (11 page)

I
reach the end of the road and stand before a great stone building, knowing a few things for certain. Nothing I have heard about this place is true. The Rats are beautiful and brilliant — how else could they have created all this? It’s also clear the PM and his Amongus do not control this place, not with this much excitement wrinkling up the dwellings.

Actually, I know a third thing, and my heart thumps with the thought of the girl I just met. Tall Topper girls never jumble my thoughts, twist my tongue. They certainly never cause a wrinkle. I fear that a life joined with one of them, though the safe, expected choice, will now be a real letdown.

“Luca, I think we’re supposed to go in. At least that’s what Etria wants.”

I follow Jasper’s finger. Ahead, Etria and his sons stand at the doorway, beckoning us on. They hold open the door, and we step inside a grand ballroom filled with light and marble and statues. Only the ground is clear rock.

It’s the museum, minus the beautiful painting
.

In the center of the floor, yet another circular prism-patch fills the hall with light. We approach it and stare down. Shadows pass deep beneath the floor, and the prism within the hall bends.

I stare at Jasper and shake my head. What is this place we’ve reached?

Jasper exhales and faces Etria. “Wren. How is she?”

“Have no worries, Jasper. She is beyond fine.” Etria rounds my shoulder with his arm. “Now, let me show you to your place.”

On the far end of the room is a chair, wooden and simple.

A chair in a hall filled with light. My second mother’s dream!

“That’s for you, Luca.” Etria stretches out his hand.

“Can you find another for Jasper? We’ve been traveling a long way, first down and then up, and —”

“I will find a comfortable resting place for Jasper, but this chair has waited for you.
We’ve
waited for you.” Etria gestures to one of his sons, who marches toward my only remaining friend.

“No,” I say. “I want — no, I need him to stay.”

The son removes his right glove and light explodes from his hand. Grabbing Jasper’s forearm with the other, he bends down and presses his palm against the prism. Both of them vanish.

“Jasper!” I break free from Etria and race toward the light. “Where is he? Etria! Where are they?”

“They are shadow, passing beneath,” he says quietly. “Luca, you have so many concerns. They aren’t needed.” Etria straightens. “All will be explained. Return to the front.”

What choice do I have? I’ve fallen into a crazy world. “Can I know where you’re taking everyone?”

“Yes.” Etria’s voice firms, and he glances over his shoulder.
His vanished son reappears on the prism and regloves his hand. Jasper is not with him.

“Please,” Etria says. “Sit in the chair.”

Sit in the chair. Sure, I’ll sit. I’ll sit before I sink into a hole of light in the floor. Father never told me this, any of this. It was just a down and up proposition
.

I walk the length of the hall, listening to the sound of scraping beneath my boots. The mood reminds me of my entrance to the amphitheater, except there is no Birthing tunnel, and no Father to anticipate. I test the chair with my hands, turn, and take a seat. This I can do. I glance up and rub my eyes.

People step quickly out of the prism. With hands upstretched and ablaze with light, they explode from the rainbow on the floor, move to their places, and glove their hands. Ten. Fifty. Hundreds appear, until the entire hall is filled with people — pointing, murmuring people.

“That is a little disconcerting.”

Etria appears at my side. “I imagine our normal mode of travel will take getting used to.” He clears his throat and addresses the crowd. “I now wish to formally welcome Luca to our home. As we had hoped to honor Massa, we will now most certainly honor his son.”

I lean over and draw him close. “Honestly, the fewer people who know I’m here, the better.” I point around the room. “I didn’t come to be celebrated. I came to hide.”

“I know. This may take some explaining, but first, let me place your mind at ease.” A nod to a son, and the young man disappears into the prism. A minute later he reemerges, but not alone. Seward and Wren, damp but sound, step out of the floor and release the Rat’s shirt.

I jump off the chair and run into my uncle’s arms.

“Hey, mate, you mess up me clothes.” Seward’s voice is strong. “Not bad for a pirate, though if they be thinkin’ of giving me a ridiculous hair job, well, this is where I draw lines in the sand.”

I squeeze him with all I have, not wanting to let go. Ever. But soon he pries me loose, and I look him over. “You fell …”

“And what transpired between that act of foolishness and now makes no sense. As I fall, I think, ‘I be undone. Nothin’ remains but the splat.’ And then I come to. I only know the Amongus who shared my tumble be here as well.”

“No, that can’t be.” I shoot Wren a panicked glance.

“It’s okay.” Etria steps between Seward and me, eager, I think, to regain control of these proceedings. “The other gentleman is … presently miserable. All things can now be spoken of.”

Wren approaches me. “Do you remember this hall?”

“Sure. It’s like your museum.”

“Go farther back. Do you remember
this
hall?”

I stare around, and my gaze falls on the chair. “I remember the chair, and a man in it.”

“Welcome home, Luca,” Wren says. “You’re finally home.”

I stumble backward. “Home? I watched my home burn. Wait …” I shake my finger. “You lied to me about the Rats. Probably everything.”

“Allow me to help.” Etria raises his hands, pleading for calm. “All, please sit down, and Luca, please sit in the chair.”

The hall obeys, and I look to Seward. “Listen to him, mate. If he meant us harm, we’d be undone long ago.”

I leave his side and take my place in front of a peaceful crowd. In the corner, I see her. The Her.

I guess it would be rude not to stay a little while.

E
tria strides around the hall, thinking, it seems, how to begin.

I’m so tired. So tired of waiting.

“Maybe you could simply tell me why I’m sitting in this chair and why you gave me a parade?”

Etria raises his eyebrows. “Massa told you nothing.”

I glance at Seward, tongue the inside of my cheek. “Yes, that seems to be a nasty little habit of Father Massa’s.”

“Would you allow me to share a bit of history?” Etria whips toward me with a flourish. A female groans from the back of the crowd.

I yawn. “Sorry, go ahead. It’s been a long day.”

Etria sits down at my feet, his legs crossed. “Have you heard of Rabal?”

“Of course. Rabal and the Nine. The miners who found the Aquifer,” I say. “Probably this Aquifer. Nine stayed below, only Rabal surfaced.”

“We in this hall, and everyone you see in our world below, are descendants of those ten men.”

“Okay, well …” I point at Seward and Wren and pat my chest. “Almost everyone.” I smile at my companions. They don’t smile back, and I bite my lip. Hard.

Etria continues. “Everyone. But that explanation will come in time. What you have just spoken about Rabal is true. If you were taught anything more, I think those words will not be as accurate.”

He snaps his fingers, and his son brings him a large book. “For completeness, I will read the rest.” He peeks at my Her, who steps behind a column. “I’m told I get long-winded when I tell the story from memory.”

Etria flips through the pages.

“The story of Rabal, and his place in the world. And so it was decided among us that Rabal should surface, for we have need of materials and machines if we are to create an underground home. Rabal will also inform our families of the path to the Aquifer. This we, nine in number, set our hand to on August 14, 2058.”

“Who wrote that?” I crane forward to see.

“Robert Blythe, one of the nine.” Etria flips forward in the book and continues.
“Lane’s family has just arrived, bringing with them news. The diverters we constructed are working. It is entirely possible that this aquifer will indeed meet the world’s future need for drinkable water. Rabal has provided us with every piece of drilling and pumping equipment needed, as well as airshafts, pressure equalizers, and everyday essentials such as food. Our one need is light. If we are to be self-sufficient, this need must be met, and soon.”

“The light rods,” I whisper.

Etria flips forward.

“It is now understood that Rabal will continue to live above. It is the only way to secure scarce items for us below. Furthermore, he sends word that rumors of the water source have spread, that there are those on top who would control it for ill gain. Indeed, there are those staking our claims, claiming our identities. They declare their authority over the Aquifer. This group of nine men deceives the world. They must not be allowed to find us. In the evil and panic above, all the secluded beauty of this place would be destroyed.”

“The Council.” I stare at Seward, who stares back. “The beginning of the Council of Nine!”

The ground heaves and shakes. Walls and statues rattle. And from high above, one small chunk of marble tumbles downward, exploding on the rock behind Etria. Throughout the hall, concern ripples along with the tremor. Faces turn grave, but Etria raises his hands. “We know the life.” He turns to me. “The rock bed is a product of the tectonic plates. It exists due to their shifts. Where was I?”

He clears his throat and glances down at the book, taking one more peek at me before continuing. I know the look; I saw it on Walery. He wants to know if I believe his explanation, if I believe him.

It is not true
.

The voice is clear, and once again not mine. I glance over my shoulder to find its source, but no one stands behind me.
What’s not true?

The voice is silent. I’m going insane.

“
Rabal has therefore —
” Etria raises his gaze. “Are you paying attention, Luca?
Rabal has therefore, in his wisdom, felt it necessary to create a barrier between the world above and the world below. That barrier will be the route. Only Rabal knows it.
The nine of us who remain, along with our wives and children, are in agreement with his decision. Though a barrier is needed to protect the Aquifer, to protect the beautiful, we hold no ill will against the Toppers, many of whom we remember as friends. We covenant never to turn off water to the surface. Those above are our brothers. At the same time, if the news is true, the darkness that settles over the surface cannot be allowed to reach the light we enjoy below
.”

Etria glances up at me. “Are you following?”

I rub my face. “So the water flows no matter what? What of the exchange? Of my father? Of the light rods?”

“Hear this well. There is no exchange. I’ll say this again: there never has been any exchange. True, your father brings us light rods to continue the ruse, but we learned long ago how to exploit the Aquifer’s energy and reuse them. They are of no new value.” He pauses. “Water flows upward because it should, not because a yearly deal is struck.”

“We call you Rats, monsters …”

“And this we accept. In fact, this misconception is helpful …” He flips a few pages forward.

“We could not imagine the hate of the Topper’s Council. Their desire for power and control is insatiable. Rabal has retreated to an island home with his two sons. His shrewd business dealings have secured the finances available for us to build a life belowground, but it has created enemies. The Council of Nine has offered Rabal their consultative services, but it is clear that they only seek the route to the source, and the power they could obtain through its possession. They have ordered countless excursions to find us, and many have reached the dome. Rabal has imposed this final safeguard: The directions to the Aquifer will pass solely through his family line, to his sons and their sons. His esteemed
position as peacemaker of the surface world should protect their family from the Nine’s wrath
.

Yet even this may not be enough. Rabal believes he must sow the seed of untruth about us. Our names must vanish. Our humanity must be forgotten if we are to live. He has declared us unhuman, animal in nature. It is to be taught, accepted. Sadly, we have come to this point
;
fear alone protects us from those above.”

“You started the lie about this place? Your ancestor did that?”

Etria shakes his head. “Yours did.”

A heavy silence descends in the hall. “Do you ever wonder how it is that you, Luca, you were chosen to be the Deliverer of the surface world?”

“Every single day,” I say quietly.

“Of course.” Etria stands. “You were chosen because you know the route, and the only ones who know the route are —”

“Rabal and his descendants.”

For eleven years I have stood and pledged allegiance to my ancestor. I stare at Seward, who nods. Of course. His story, Etria’s story, they all fit; they all make sense. All except for one thing.

There is no PM
.

“Seward, you said there was no peacemaker.”

“I wouldn’t lead you wrong, lad.”

I walk toward Etria. “But you just said Rabal was the first, and his two sons …”

“That history lies in another book, but it is easily and painfully told. Rabal passed, and his oldest son assumed his position. The new PM. Once again, the Nine placed themselves in his service, all in an attempt to attain the directions that were buried in his mind, now in your mind. He refused their assistance, and was, as is said by the Toppers, undone. By
committing this foolish act, the Council unknowingly cemented the barrier between the Toppers and us. They destroyed one of two who knew the route. Wisely, the younger son fled the island, and proclaimed he had knowledge of the Water Rats’ demands. He would be the Deliverer. He would come and meet with us. And he has — he and his descendants — for hundreds of years. Through the myth of exchange. Through the myth of a hideous underground race. Through the myth of our need for light. Through the directions the Deliverer alone knows. These myths have protected the Aquifer all this time.”

I step around Etria and pace back and forth. I know nothing about who I am, nothing about who my father is. I’m lost.

“So the Council —”

“Took over. Instituted the Amongus. Coded your children. Robbed you of humanity. The legend of a peacemaker lives on to cement their control.”

“And this chair …”

“And this chair” — he smiles broadly — “is where Deliverers come when they pass on the route to their offspring. There have been none so wise as Rabal’s descendants. For hundreds of years, they have been our judges. Without crime, we need no enforcement, just the wisdom that rests in here.” He points to my head.

“No, no. That can’t be how it works.”

“Thinkin’ it be true, mate,” Seward interrupts. “Janus disappeared, as did Linus before him. There was no sign of undoing.”

“Two good men. They made two fine judges.” Etria pauses. “We had hoped Massa would assume his place, but from Wren I heard the Fates held otherwise.” He spins me toward the crowd, his hands on my shoulders. “But now again, ill winds have
shifted, and our fortunes are favorable. With one so young, we can rest for many years.”

“Blime!” Seward screams, and jumps to his feet. “What a fool I be! How could I not see the possibility?”

“What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”

“The exchange be a sham? This changes everything. Massa has no reason to share the route. He knows water will flow either way. But the Council doesn’t — they would never believe that — and their desperation to secure the Aquifer will grow.” He looks Etria in the eye. “So follow it through. By now Massa has been shown to the world as undone. New Pert searches for Luca and finds his shanty burned to the ground. There is no Deliverer, and the world wails, believin’ that come the next seventh of the seventh, water will cease to flow as the exchange fails. What would you do if ya thought you had less than a year to live? Toppers know nothing of your … kindness. Do ya have an inkling of what this news be doing on the surface? In the best of worlds, people patiently hope the Nine will save them. In the real of it, without Luca and Massa, what carnage may follow!”

Etria nods, as if thinking, and then shakes away the thought. “The years, and I believe the need, for a Deliverer are over. Toppers will find out in time that they no longer need fear us.”

If any Toppers remain
.

Seward paces back and forth. “Then think on the reverse! What if my brother breaks and does speak the route? He endures more than a little duress. Have you no sympathy for him?”

“He would not do this. He will not speak our destruction.” Etria addresses the crowd. “Massa’s death is tragic, but it ends forever all presence of the route on the surface. There is no one who knows how to reach us now that Luca is home.” His face lightens. “Yes, Luca is home.”

Etria spreads his arms. “The coronation of Luca, our new judge, is in one week. Until then, People of the Rock, rejoice!”

“I … I … need some time.” I run out of the hall to thunderous applause. Once outside, I scan wildly.
I could escape
. I stare down the mountain at the Aquifer shimmering in the distance.
I could cross and ascend and maybe the Amongus have left …

A hand pulls me into the shadows.

“What my father does to you is not fair.”

It’s the Her.

“Your father?”

“Etria.”

I pull away. “The Etria?”
Oh, this relationship would never work
. My mind’s a blur. Beside me, her warm breath breezes softly on my neck.

“Luca, do you want me to leave?”

“No.
I
want to go home. I want Father and Old Rub, Seward and Wren … Well, they’re down here, but Lendi’s not, and he can’t give me the silent treatment forever. I need to … What is that place?”

Deep in my mind, I find a match for the small triangular building before me. “I remember the windows, looking in those windows.”

“Lots of people do.” She smiles. “That, Luca, is where you and I were born.”