Freakling (19 page)

“Anybody with psi,” Amma said.

What a pair we are,
thought Taemon. Amma had the power but no knowledge. Taemon had knowledge but no power. Amma couldn’t share her power, but Taemon could share his knowledge. Some if it, anyway. Sharing knowledge was not a quick thing, and Taemon wasn’t sure if his drawings were good enough for Amma to picture things in her head perfectly. When he’d learned about light switches in school, they’d been able to look at an actual switch.

Taemon covered a few more topics like water faucets, seat belts, and how to flush a toilet. Now all they needed was a way to get past the gate guards and into the city.

“Do you have any ideas?” Amma asked. “You know more about the gate guards than I do.”

An idea
had
been forming in Taemon’s mind. He nodded. “Are you up for a little frivolics?”

Amma smiled. “Always.”

Half an hour later, they caught sight of the city wall. Having ditched the byrider in the woods, they walked on foot through the trees, behind a cluster of pines, and near enough for a good look at the gate.

“There it is,” said Taemon. “The West Gate.”

Amma squinted. “I can only see two guards. This frivolics idea just might work. Are we ready?”

Taemon pulled his hat down as much as he dared. “Ready.”

The two of them burst out of the woods, laughing and running for the West Gate.

“Beat you!” said Amma when she reached the guards first. “Now you can’t stop me from asking.”

The guards looked curiously at Amma. Taemon raced up behind her, then stopped and traced one foot in the dirt, looking down at it as though he were embarrassed. “You don’t have to ask them,” Taemon said. “I’ll tell the truth this time.”

“No,” Amma teased. “I’m not sure I believe you anymore. I’ll ask these fine, trustworthy gate guards. They’ll tell me the truth.”

“Tell you the truth about what?” one guard asked.

“Are those woods really full of bears?” She pointed toward the woods they’d just left.

The guards laughed heartily. “A hundred years ago, maybe.”

“I knew it.” Amma stamped her foot. “I knew it wasn’t true. We went for a hike from the North Gate to the West Gate. And this . . . this scoundrel told me tales about bears just to scare me.”

Taemon tried to look embarrassed, turning his face away from the guard and looking at the ground.

The guard snorted. “Go easy on the boy. He just wanted you to hold his hand.”

The other guard was more serious. “You kids oughtn’t be hiking around here. Might not be safe. Go home, now, and stay out of trouble.”

Amma harrumphed. “My thoughts exactly. I can think of better ways to win a girl’s heart than scaring her half to death.” She stomped through the gate, chin lifted.

Taemon hurried after her. “Aww, don’t be mad! I was just having a bit of fun!”

The guards were still laughing as Taemon and Amma passed through the gate unchallenged.

They came to an intersection and turned a corner. Taemon glanced around, then whispered, “Perfect performance.”

“Thank you,” Amma said, looking around with wide eyes. Taemon followed her stare. Shacks leaned up against the city wall. Raggedy-looking children played in the dirt. Skinny stray cats roamed the area. An old lady struggled with a deep cough. Taemon fought the urge to hold his nose; it smelled like fermented beans around here.

He’d only been gone three months. How had the city declined so quickly? He had to find out what was going on. It was time to find his parents.

Twenty minutes later, Taemon showed Amma the place he thought he’d never see again: his home.

But he almost didn’t recognize it when he saw it. The grass was dead. The windows were boarded up. And it wasn’t just his house. There were plenty of others that looked the same. What in the Great Green Earth was going on? He led Amma up the front steps.

He stared at the front door. Now what?

“Well?” Amma said.

“I can’t unlock the door,” Taemon whispered. “And neither can you. Skies, we can’t even ring the doorbell.” Even if he could tell her how these things worked, she wouldn’t be able to operate them without seeing them for herself. They were doomed if they couldn’t do even the simplest things.

Amma reached out and knocked.

Taemon looked around, hoping no one had seen what she’d just done.

“Relax,” Amma said. “There’s no one around.”

“Go away!” came a gruff voice from behind the door. Was that Da? “This house is occupied.”

“It’s Taemon,” he said, as loudly as he dared.

Taemon heard the latch click and the door swung open.

“Get in here,” the voice said. “Hurry!”

Taemon and Amma stepped inside into a dim living room. When Taemon’s eyes adjusted, he saw his uncle Fierre staring back at him.

“Taemon! Skies above, it is you!” Uncle Fierre looked thin and gaunt, his eyes bloodshot, his face stubbly. “I thought they shipped you off to the dud farm. Was that a lie?”

“It’s true. I was at the colony, but I came back to help. Are you okay? Where’s Mam and Da?”

“I’d ask you to sit down, but as you can see, there’s nowhere to sit. Are you hungry? I might have some food. Somewhere. Or maybe it’s gone. I forget.”

Taemon looked around and realized that the furniture was gone. “What’s happened?”

“Don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, Miss,” Uncle Fierre said to Amma. She introduced herself, and then Uncle Fierre took a deep breath and rubbed the whiskers on his chin. “Blazes, I don’t even know where to start. I’m so tired I can’t think.”

“When’s the last time you slept, Uncle Fierre?” Taemon asked.

“When’s the last time you ate?” added Amma.

Uncle Fierre dismissed their concerns with a wave of his hand. “You know your father: he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He was one of the first they took away. So many people are missing. It’s chaos. I have to keep the squatters away.”

Taemon’s thoughts spun. They’d taken his da? Had they taken Mam, too? Where were they? Were they okay? But the question that came out was: “Squatters?”

“Cha,” Amma said. “We saw a lot of those when we came in through the West Gate.”

Uncle Fierre shrugged. “Desperate times. So many houses destroyed. So many people left homeless. Senseless. Wasteful. People see an empty house, and they figure nobody’s coming back to claim it.”

Taemon took a step back. “What do you mean nobody’s coming back? Where are they?”

Fierre shook his head. “At the asylums, maybe? Prisons? There are rumors flying everywhere. No one knows anything.”

“Have you heard anything about Taemon’s brother? Or the war?” Amma asked.

“War, yes. War. The priests are preparing everyone. They say sacrifices must be made.”

“I don’t understand,” Taemon said. “Who is the war against?”

Uncle Fierre sat on the floor and hung his head. “We’re lucky this house is still standing. War. Squatters. They’re everywhere. Sacrifices. Ha!”

His uncle laughed — at least Taemon thought it was laughter — long and loud, then stopped abruptly. “Have you seen your da? Tell him I’m keeping the squatters away. Are you hungry? Skies, I’m tired.”

Amma turned to Taemon. “We should let him sleep.” She touched his shoulder. “I’m so sorry about your parents.”

Taemon nodded. He wanted to feel sorry, too, but feeling sorry wasn’t going to help anyone. “We’ll have to see what we can find out on our own.”

They left Uncle Fierre a little food from their pack and moved on.

Amma and Taemon hid behind some azaleas in Moke’s backyard to wait and see if the plan worked. Taemon had found a stray psiball in his friend’s yard, and Amma had used her psi to wedge it between the tree limbs. It was their old signal that psiball practice was on. Psiball was the only fun thing he could remember from those fearful days after he’d lost his psi. They’d had fun, hadn’t they? He and Moke? Until that ugly scene at the tournament.

In a few minutes, Moke came out to the backyard with a quizzical look on his face. “Taemon?” he whispered.

Taemon stepped from the bushes. “Hoy, Moke.” Without warning, strong emotions welled up inside Taemon. He reached out to hug his old psiball partner.

Moke stiffened and stepped back. “What are you doing? Why are you here? Do you have any idea what could happen if —” Moke’s eyebrows arched high as he looked at something behind Taemon’s shoulder.

Taemon turned and saw Amma stepping out of the azaleas.

“Are there more of you?” Moke asked. “Is this an invasion?”

“Just the two of us,” Taemon said. “Amma, this is Moke. His parents run the crematorium. He studies weasel droppings. He makes sculptures out of cat hair. And he . . .” Taemon couldn’t bring himself to say what came next.

“And I stink at picking a psiball partner,” Moke said with a wry smile. Taemon returned the smile, but he still couldn’t read Moke’s mood.

“Crematorium?” Amma’s question broke the awkward silence. “Is that like an ice-cream store?”

Moke and Taemon burst out laughing, which erased all the tension. Despite Amma’s demands, neither boy could bring himself to tell her the truth.

“Seriously,” Taemon said at last, turning to Moke. “I’m sorry about the tournament. I thought I could keep it a secret. I was stupid.”

Moke shook his head. “It’s ancient history. I just wish you had told me.” Moke turned to Amma. “This guy really knows how to stir things up.”

“How’d you like to help us do some serious stirring?” Taemon asked.

Moke listened patiently as Taemon and Amma explained about the library, about the high priest’s deal with the Republik and their planned double cross, and about how Yens was the key to stopping the war.

“This explains a lot,” said Moke. “Last Sabbath the priests kept talking about restoring lost knowledge and the True Son humbling the heathen nations. They’re trying to get everybody thinking it’s time to take our rightful place in the world. Everyone’s talking about psi weapons.” He frowned. “What I don’t get is how the library fits into the high priest’s plans. They were already building their weapons before they attacked the colony.”

“I’m not sure either,” said Taemon. “But it must have something to do with the Republik. Maybe the library gives the priests a stronger position. Something else to bargain with.”

Amma balled her hands into fists. “If everyone knows about the weapons, why doesn’t anyone do anything?”

“Anyone who speaks out is gone the next day.” Moke frowned. “But the priests never actually use the word
war.
They make it sound like everyone else will just give up because they’ll see how powerful we are.”

“They might be right about that,” Taemon said. Silence fell among the three of them for a moment.

“Is there any way you can get us inside the temple?” Taemon asked. “I have to get to Yens somehow — without the priests knowing.”

“No,” Moke said. “But I might know someone who can help.” His expression was determined. “Meet me back here just before dark.” Moke opened the gate with psi and hurried off.

“Are you sure we can trust him?” Amma said.

“Skies, I hope so.”

“How long till sundown?” Taemon asked Amma. “Two hours? Three?”

“Closer to two, I’d say,” Amma replied.

“I think we should stay put,” said Amma at exactly the same moment that Taemon said, “Let’s go into the city.”

Amma looked at Taemon incredulously. “What if you’re recognized? Or what if I do something wrong, something that gets us noticed? People are scared. Haven’t you picked up on that? Who knows what they’ll do if something spooks them.”

“We can’t pin all our hopes on Moke,” Taemon said, rubbing the back of his neck. “If we go into the city, we might learn something that would help us. We could get a feel for what people are thinking, what they’re saying. Maybe it will help us think of a plan.”

“We’ll have to avoid attention.” Amma frowned, turning her head and looking at him sideways. “Are you
sure
it’s worth the risk?”

“You can stay here if you want,” Taemon said. “I . . . I have to go out there. I can’t play it safe anymore and hope for the best. Maybe it won’t be enough. Maybe it won’t matter. But if we fail, I want to know I did everything I could think of.”

Amma nodded. “Fair enough.”

Taemon tipped the brim of his hat to hide his eyes, and the two of them walked toward the city.

“If it’s gossip we’re after, we should go to the plaza,” Taemon said. “It used to be crowded this time of day, but we’ll see.”

“Whatever you say,” Amma said.

On the short walk to the plaza, Taemon realized just how much the city had changed. On a beautiful spring day like this, he should see people trimming their hedges, kids riding scooters, playing psiball. Hardly anyone was out. Maybe there would be more activity at the plaza.

They came to a crossroads. Amma glanced around, then nodded toward a sign with the Turtle symbol. “What’s that for?” she asked furtively.

“That’s a street sign,” Taemon said, directing her to the right. “Wrong way. We’re not taking Turtle Street.”

Amma shook her head in disgust. “I can’t believe people don’t read.”

Taemon shushed her, and they walked the rest of the way in silence. The plaza was close now, and they were starting to see a few people here and there. He couldn’t risk anyone overhearing them.