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Authors: Heather Terrell

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Augustus 1
Year 242, A.H
.

Elation subsides and industry sets in. Lukas sets me to work setting up a strange light source that he’s brought with him. Using words from before the Healing that I only vaguely understand, Lukas tells me that in order to “start” the Tech, we need to “charge” them. Since we can’t give the Relics the power from Her Sun they usually require, Lukas has rigged up a substitute. But we won’t be certain of its efficacy until we see the Tech’s telltale flickering blue light.

As we wait, Lukas examines the Tech that’s not being “charged”; we can only attempt to power up two of the Relics at a time. I update him on my findings beyond the Ring: Madeline’s journal entries, the scratched-out Apple surface on the laptop, the proximity of the so-called first Lex to that Tech, and Madeline’s suspicions. The very moment he
acknowledges that I was right to bring him here—a huge victory, though I try not to gloat—the room fills with a familiar bluish light.

The Tech is on. Lukas’s contraption works.

“Please start with the damaged one,” I implore him. Even if we never make it out of the Hall safely, I’ve got to see this one Relic’s secrets with my own eyes. I owe it to Madeline.

Lukas nods, then starts tapping away at the squares with letters inscribed upon them. He’s told me before to call them “keys,” but the word feels awkward on my tongue and in my mind. The squares don’t look like any key I’ve ever seen. I can’t make sense of what’s appearing on the face of this Relic—what I used to think of as the diptych altar to the false God Apple—that I now know to call a “screen.” What was once sacred has become profane.

I draw closer as Lukas’s fingers clatter furiously. Row after row of numbers appears. Lukas seems mesmerized by them, but they’re nonsensical to me. Why is he spending so much time on this? We should be poring over the Tech for more critical information about the beginning of New North, the Founders, the
Genesis
, anything along the lines of Madeline’s suspicions. The Archon Guards are prowling. This strikes me as a waste of precious time; our luck is bound to run out.

But in a few ticks, I begin to see what he finds so fascinating.

The numbers are linked to various categories. And while the numbers don’t mean much to me, the categories certainly do. They are a list of the items on board the
Genesis
, and the numbers indicate the quantities of those items that
the
Genesis
carried. The document is entitled “Manifest.”

Interesting that the
Genesis
was fully loaded with nearly everything necessary to sustain life. The hull contained seeds of every sort; multiple pairs of food-producing animals like cows, goats, chickens, and sheep; soil samples; water purification systems; fuel and energy sources; building materials; tools; bountiful quantities of wool, threads, and furs; basic hunting and fishing equipment; climbing gear; compasses and Arctic maps; and countless things I’ve never heard of.

How would the Founders have had the time to assemble this enormous array of items in the few bells they had between the onset of the Healing and the boarding of the
Genesis
? As described in the Lex history? Or is that a fiction, too?

Lukas points to an entry in the upper right corner of the screen. It’s tinier than the other entries, so I draw even closer to the Tech. “Do you see this?”

“Yes.”

“What does it say?”

“It looks like a date.”

“Exactly. What is that date?”

I look at the screen, then back at him. “That’s two weeks before the Healing.”

“Correct. Do you understand what that means?”

“Of course.” If this wasn’t so unbelievable, I’d be irritated at his question. Like I’m some sort of simple Maiden to whom he needs to explain everything. “It means that the Founders loaded the
Genesis
with all the necessary items for life two weeks
before
the Healing. Two weeks before the flood waters started rising.”

“Exactly. All of your stories tell us that the flood waters
were sudden and that the Gods selected the faithful to be saved. There wasn’t a forewarning.” There’s contempt in his voice, especially the way he says the word
your
—as if he’s exempting the Boundary.

“So The Lex is wrong,” I say.

“Again.”

“Again.” Feeling a creeping sense of uncertainty, I pause for a tick. This Tech is telling us much more than the old tale about the inaccuracies of The Lex. “If it was just a simple matter of forewarning, the Founders could have written some passage about the Gods sending them a sacred message. To protect the faithful and all that. No, I think that this Manifest is telling us much more than that The Lex is wrong.”

“What, then?” he asks.

The answer tumbles from my mouth before it is even fully formed, the words an avalanche of realization. “The Founders planned the settlement of New North long before the Healing. Think about how long it would have taken to assemble this list. Months, not weeks, I’m guessing. This is no mere forewarning. There are bigger questions at work here.”

Lukas turns to me. “What questions?”

“Look at this.” I point to a tiny entry at the bottom of the screen. “It says T
HE
N
EW
N
ORTH
C
OMPANY
. Do you remember what you told me about a company?”

“Yes. That a company is a group of people who make something. Apple was the company that made Tech.”

“Right.”

He turns back to the screen. “So what exactly was the New North Company making with all these items? And how did the Founders—or this New North Company—know
about the Healing long before it happened?”

I can’t respond. I feel like the answers are so close, but I can’t reach them. Do they even really matter? I’m not certain how the truth about the Healing and the founding of New North will lead me to my brother’s murderer, but somehow I know this truth is intertwined with his death. Perhaps that is also why I feel myself getting one step closer to finding out what happened to Eamon.

“Do you think my brother knew about this?” I ask after a tick.

“He never mentioned it to me. But maybe—”

I interrupt him. “Shh. I hear something.” In the distance a familiar sound. The clomp of the Archon Guards as they tromp down a nearby corridor. They never bother to muffle their heavy steps. Why should they?

I point at the ceiling. Lukas pulls out his
atlatl
and shoots two lines into its icy expanse, one right next to the other. He gestures for us to start climbing.

Hand over hand we ascend, my heart rattling in my chest. I do my utmost to slow my breathing; I don’t want to give away our location by my panting. We pull our dangling lines up as we climb until we can climb no more. Lukas releases one of his hands to push my feet up against the ceiling; I sink the toes of my bear-claw boots into its surface. Lukas does the same just as the Guards scan the floor of the Conservation Chamber with their forbidden Tech-produced beams.

Together we cling to the ceiling like two spiders in the center of an icy web.

XXX
.
Augustus 2
Year 242, A.H
.

Even though I’m bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, I am ready and waiting when my parents take their seats at the breakfast table. They look surprised when my plate is cleared of the morning repast of broth and bread; usually they have to prompt me to eat. When I have my sealskin overcoat on before my father dons his, they laugh at my eagerness. But they misunderstand it. I’m racing to the Hall of Archons not because I long to resume my duties but because I have to make sure Lukas and I left no trace behind in our haste to escape.

In the Main Chamber, I arrange myself near the hallway leading to the Conservation Chamber. When my father calls the Archons to prayer, I dutifully chant “Hail to Sun the Mother,” but my mind is retracing
every step Lukas and I took last night. Archon Theo has eagle eyes.

The very tick my father ends the prayer, I’m gone. Thank the Gods I pass no one as I race down the corridor. I’ve got maybe five or six ticks until Archon Theo arrives. Turning the corner, I proceed under the entryway and cross into the Chamber and practically bump right into Theo.

How did he get in here before me? I just saw him in the Main Chamber. “Are you in a rush, Archon Eva?” he asks with a stern look.

“No, Archon Theo.”

“I certainly hope that there’s another explanation for your panting. You know my feelings about rushing.”

“Of course, Archon Theo. Many times I’ve heard you say, ‘Slow and steady wins the race.’ ”

“Indeed.” He grins.

“Is that a phrase from The Lex? I don’t remember seeing it, but maybe it’s one of the lesser rules. I don’t have those memorized.”

“No, it’s not.” He scratches his head. “Funny, I’m not sure where it comes from.”

“I’ve never heard your brother Archon Laurence use it.”

“No.” He gives me a sly grin. “But then he wouldn’t use it, would he? Nothing slow or steady about him.”

I glance around the room. There are scuffs in the usually polished ice floor, gouges in the ceiling, should anyone bother to look up, and one of the Tech is askew. Theo is always very particular about how we leave the Tech in the evening. I watch as he busies himself with getting on his sealskin gloves. His fear of the Tech hasn’t diminished since our return to the Aerie; if anything, the constancy of contact has intensified it. Even within the safety of the
Conservation Chamber, and even though such a buffer can hinder our work, Theo takes every precaution to avoid touching the Tech directly.

Frantically pulling on the gloves Theo insists I wear, too, I walk with purpose but not haste over to the off-center Tech. Thank the Gods Lukas grabbed his charging contraption; no explanation would have sufficed for its presence. Just as I reach toward the Tech to straighten it, Theo asks, “What in the Gods are you doing, Archon Eva? We haven’t gotten to those Relics yet in our cataloguing. We are still over here.”

“My mistake, Archon Theo—”

“Wait a tick.” He is staring at the ice-table behind me. “Why is that Tech misaligned?”

“I don’t know.”

His gaze shifts to mine. “You didn’t dislodge the Tech from its normal position. I’m certain that you didn’t.”

“I don’t think so, but it’s possible I nudged it accidentally.”

“No, that’s not it,” he says as he approaches. With his protective gloves in place, he runs his fingers across the ice-table. “Someone placed another object here.” He points to the spot where Lukas had his charging machine. “It must have been last night. There is a slight indentation in the ice that can only be attributable to another object. Another
warm
object.”

I remain motionless. I am frozen by my fear. Theo is piecing it all together. I will be found out for the fraud that I am—and get the gallows I deserve, according to The Lex. I will be made an example for all, like that poor Boundary worker. My mind utters a silent prayer.
By the Gods, whoever, whatever you are, please spare me. I seek only the truth
.

“I wonder …” he says, but not to me. He is staring off into the distance, his eyes glazed in a private rumination.

I don’t want to ask, but know I must. “Wonder what, Archon Theo?”

“Nothing to trouble yourself about, Archon Eva.” He gives me his brisk, officious smile. “You’re probably right. You probably bumped into it. Let’s spend the rest of today focusing on a far more important task—the sacred work of cataloguing the
Genesis
Relics. Only then can we begin the Chronicle.”

XXXI
.
Augustus 2
Year 242, A.H
.

Even the numbing task of cataloguing every detail of the Tech doesn’t calm my mind. I can’t shake the idea that Archon Theo is trying to lure me into a confession with his uncharacteristic silence about the disrupted table. Normally he likes to discuss each theory that runs through his mind, and in truth, I learn much about reading Relics from this practice. That Theo would keep silent on a critical concern like the possible violation of the Tech is unthinkable. How could it be anything but a trap?

BOOK: Boundary
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