Numbers Ignite (7 page)

“I caught a glimpse of some at the bottom, under the flowers,” he said. Then, as if realizing what he’d just said, his face colored. “Not that I was looking through your stuff, of course. I don’t—”

“Of course you do,” Ruby said, “but it’s all right. I couldn’t have planned this better. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to eat my birthday cake alone. Go have a seat, and I’ll bring you a piece.” She poked the cake with a fork, then nodded.

Coltrane headed for the woven chairs near the door, but I made my way to the bin he’d carried in. With a glance at Ruby, who was distracted, I peeled back the lid and peeked inside. A floral aroma wafted upward. He wasn’t kidding about the flowers, then.

“What are you doing?” Coltrane hissed.

I shrugged and pulled it higher, peeking inside. Two small bags of white powder filled the bottom. A bunch of vines with dozens of wilting orange flowers rested on top. I picked up one of the stems, holding it carefully so I wouldn’t damage the flowers. Definitely not plastic.

“I thought you might be interested in those,” Ruby said, carrying two plates. “Desert Globemallow, in case you were wondering. My favorite flower.”

“What are they for?” I asked, taking a chair. Ruby’s chairs were similar to Coltrane’s woven ones but padded with soft pillows.

“Lillibeth sends a few whenever she can. These must be the last of the season. I’d never see them if it weren’t for her. I’m not allowed onto the surface until November. We get one visit a year, you see, and that’s usually at night. Not the best for flower hunting, even if it was the right season.”

She handed me a plate with a square piece of light brown cake covered in something white and creamy. I reached to grab a chunk, but she shook her head slightly and handed me a fork. Then she held out the other plate for Coltrane, who thanked her.

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts at breaking a piece off without crumbling it, I set the fork down and broke off a piece with my fingers. Ruby hid a smile.

I put the piece into my mouth and felt my eyes widen. It was
amazing
. So many flavors, all so different. It was easily the best thing I’d ever tasted. The top layer was sweeter than the bottom, which was slightly salty, but the two flavors blended beautifully. I swallowed and grabbed another handful. The gooey whiteness of the topping coated my fingers, but I didn’t care.

“I’ve always wondered about that,” Coltrane said. “I mean, Mrs. Brough has an order in for roses. Those make sense. They’re hard to find and valuable, and she makes perfume out of them. But Globemallow is pretty much useless, and they grow right above us.” He lifted the fork to his mouth for another bite.

“These flowers may be worthless to everyone else,” Ruby said, “but they hold infinite meaning for me. There’s something special about a bright desert flower. It takes the land nothing else wants and thrives in places where it shouldn’t. Where the land is dead and dry, that’s where desert flowers thrive—and they throw off some brilliant colors while they do it. It’s almost as if they defy science by their very existence.”

The last piece went into my mouth. I stared eagerly at the crumbs covering my plate. I considered licking it clean but settled for running my fingers along the crumbs and putting them into my mouth. As I did, I caught Ruby’s gaze. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she chuckled.

“Sorry,” I said. “It’s just so good.”

“It’s like a new planet, isn’t it?” Ruby asked. “New tastes and textures and colors and people. It can be overwhelming. You’re faring far better than I did.”

I nearly let the plate slip off my lap before catching it again. “You’re from NORA?”

Her smile faded a bit and she looked at the floor. “I remember how strange people looked without numbers then. We’re trained to look at the number first and
then
the person. Because their score tells us everything we need to know, right?” She stabbed her cake with a fork almost violently. “But here, you have to actually get to know people. Even so, I think I mentally assigned Ratings to everyone I met for the first year after I escaped.”

“And then you met my parents,” Coltrane said.

She finished chewing and swallowed. “They were young, but yes. I knew your grandparents as well.”

“So you’re one of the founders?” I asked. “But why aren’t you leading the community?”

“The founders formed a circle of elders, and they voted on the leader. Ruby is the last founder left in the circle.” He looked at Ruby, then at the ground. “Most of them went out to look for my dad and never came back. They had to replace them.”

“But enough about that,” Ruby said. “I heard how you came to be here, Amy. A snakebite, so near the exit, and just when Coltrane happened to be watching. It seems almost too good to be true.”

Coltrane stiffened, and I stared at Ruby in surprise. How much did this woman know?

Ruby chuckled again and put her empty plate down on the floor. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask about the circumstances. But it is rather convenient. I’d say the fates are definitely involved here.”

I sat back. “Yeah, the fates have it in for me. First my supplies got stolen, and then a snake attacked my leg.”

“And then Coltrane saved you,” Ruby pointed out, “and you ended up here. Nothing happens by chance, dear. There’s a reason behind everything the fates do. If your journey was interrupted, maybe you were on the wrong journey.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Um, I think the snake was a clumsy moment. Now I’m stuck here until my leg gets better. And I have a debt to pay.”

“Ah,” Ruby said. “So you need to find a contribution.”

I made a face. Coltrane grinned. “I think she’s sick of hearing that word.”

“Call it what you like,” Ruby said, “but you’ll want to find a skill to help the community as soon as possible. Here, a contribution is the doorway between childhood and adulthood. Coltrane will be presenting his project for approval very soon, as I recall. How long have you been working on it again, dear?”

“Four years. Can I have another piece for the road?”

“Take the whole pan. Your mother will want some, and I have a feeling Amy hasn’t had her fill yet.”

I stood, then winced as the blood came rushing back into my ankle. “I don’t need a rite of passage. I just need to pay off my debt quickly.”

“A contribution is the fastest way to do that,” Coltrane said as he headed to the kitchen. “Although I don’t know why you’d want to rush off. It’s not like you had anything going for you out there.”

Ruby must have seen my frown because she stood and reached for my plate, which I handed over. “Thanks for joining me on my birthday, dear. I hope you feel comfortable stopping by anytime. I’m always available to talk.” She stopped. “Well, whenever the elders aren’t convening, anyway.”

“Thanks for the cake, Ruby,” Coltrane said, clasping the pan with both hands. “I’ll bring this back tomorrow.” He turned toward the door.

“Oh,” Ruby said. She bent over the box and retrieved a vine of flowers, then handed them to me. “Why don’t you hold on to these? It would be a shame to keep them all to myself.”

“Thank you,” I said, cupping the orange flowers in my hands. They felt soft and prickly at the same time. “The cake was amazing. I hope you have a great birthday.”

“I hope you enjoy your stay here, whether it be long or short.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “This place is one of second chances. I believe that everyone, no matter what they’ve lived through, deserves that much.”

The next day, Ju-Long walked in with three guards. They had similar features except that the guards had straight black hair where Ju-Long’s head was smooth and bald. He swiped his device against the door and it clicked open. “It is time.”

I set down the bowl of tasteless gruel and stood, eyeing the door. “But the trial is next week.”

“The assembly wants a preliminary hearing. Your crimes will be presented to the people, and you’ll have the opportunity to declare your guilt in exchange for a lesser sentence.”

I snorted. “For my actual crimes or the ones Mills made up?”

“You’ve been accused of many things, none of which look favorable to you. Now hold your hands out.”

“I didn’t blow up anybody, and I’m not going. Let Mills hold his hearing without me.” I stepped back into a veiled fighting stance, keeping my hands down.

Ju-Long’s dark eyes narrowed. “You will come quietly, or in bonds.” He motioned to a guard, who approached with a pair of chained cuffs. As he lifted the cuffs, my palm smashed through his nose. The guard recoiled with a yelp, blood dripping onto his uniform. The next guard ran at me, but I tripped him, sending him face-first into the ground. I leaped over him and barreled through the doorway, shoving the third guard aside as I headed for the exit.

But suddenly Ju-Long was there, standing right in my way. I threw a punch. Faster than should have been possible, he stepped aside and redirected my fist, doubling me over and sending me tumbling to the ground. I jumped to my feet and charged, more wary this time. Ju-Long faked a kick, deflected my next punch, and raced into action. I barely saw him move. He spun and threw his arms around my head, then tightened them into a chokehold against my throat.

I was too stunned to react for a moment. I tried to step behind him to get leverage, but his grip tightened even more. Someone jumped in and fastened the cold steel cuffs on my wrists. A little more pressure and my windpipe would collapse. I began to flail wildly, kicking and elbowing anything in sight, then attempted to bash Ju-Long in the face with my head, but his grip was too strong. The room went out of focus, the objects around me losing their color.

“There are more of us than you realize,” Ju-Long’s voice said near my ear. “And you are alone. Your stubbornness will only make things worse for you, Hawking. I think you’ll find that cooperation is best for your sake as well as everyone involved. Yes?”

I let my body go slack. The moment I did, Ju-Long released my throat and I gasped in precious air. He raised himself to his feet as I lay there gulping, my body trembling from effort and lack of oxygen. The guards who had escorted him watched me with unreadable faces except for the one whose nose I’d broken. He held it with a bloody hand, and his gaze was murderous. But it was Ju-Long’s face I focused on. His usual blank expression was now twisted into a self-satisfied smile. If I could have lifted my hands, I would’ve punched the guy.

He seemed to know it. “Since that’s over with,” Ju-Long said, patting me on the shoulder, “we will make our way promptly to the preliminary hearing. I do hate to make people wait.”

Four days later, standing in the cafeteria kitchen, I was ready to throw something. Preferably something heavy and breakable. Unfortunately, all that surrounded me were brown bags of various ingredients and hard concrete countertops that I couldn’t move in a million years. And one frustrated chef with a heavy beard tucked into a hairnet. Tufts of rough hair escaped here and there from their prison, and I made a mental note to check my food for beard hairs from now on.

“You mix the dry ingredients together first,
then
add the wet,” he said. He sighed. “Well, I suppose it’ll have to turn out. We don’t have enough water rations to start again. Five cups of water wasted.”

“I’m sorry,” I told him for the fourth time that morning, dropping the spoon and stepping away from the bowl. He’d given me a paper with instructions, a worn piece with ink writing. It may as well have been written in another language—flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, sugar, water, vegetable oil. I knew that oil was a lubricant of some kind. But this stuff was a deep yellow. And how many types of white powder did one food need?