Outcasts (17 page)

“
That’s
a Safe Lands story?” It seemed to speak to discipline, rather than the pursuit of pleasure.

“It’s a cautionary tale to remind us that each individual is sacred, as is each life,” Ciddah said. “It reminds us that we come into this earth with great potential, and we should give pleasure to each other in each life, not simply live to please ourselves.”

Intriguing. But Mason wanted to point out that had the girl used her magic on others, she still might not have had any left to heal the boy. The only way for her to have had magic available for the boy was
if she had hoarded it all her life, which was also selfish. But he’d agreed not to argue, so he remained silent.

When they finished their meal, they returned the fur coats and hats and walked outside. A gust of warmth surprised Mason. The sun had not set fully yet. “It was quite cold in there,” he said, taking Ciddah’s hand.

She smiled at him, so he held her gaze and counted to five. Six … seven … eight … nine … lost again in her eyes.

“What?” she asked, her lips curving into a smile.

He shook his head and led her down the sidewalk. Below Zero was close enough to their apartment building that they were able to walk home. Mason told Ciddah one of his favorite childhood stories on the walk. It was the story of how the tortoise beat the hare in a race.

“I’m a lot like the tortoise,” he said. “I might not be the fastest or strongest, but I’m persistent and smart. It helps me remember that size or speed isn’t everything and that defeating the stronger adversary is possible.” Like Otley or Lawten or the thin plague or, when he was younger, Levi.

“I like that story,” Ciddah said. “I think I’m a tortoise too.”

They reached the Westwall and rode the elevator to the third floor.

At the door to Ciddah’s apartment, she turned to face him and bounced on her tiptoes. “I had a great time today, Mason.”

So had he. And he’d learned nothing about the boarding school. Figured.

“Do you want to come in?” She looked hopeful, waiting for his response.

Did he? Mason stared at her. He did. But also … he didn’t.

Ciddah leaned against the wall beside her door. “
Mason
, you’ve been sending me signals all day.”

“Have I?” Of course he had. He’d done everything Jemma and Zane had suggested. He might not have understood why those things had pleased her, but he could see that they had.

Ciddah eyelashes fluttered. “I like you very much, Mason. And I think you like me too. I know you’re uncomfortable with the way
things are done here, but I imagine that even in Glenrock it would have been unfair to flirt with someone if you didn’t intend to see that person again.”

He’d
flirted
? To be honest, he hadn’t expected any of it to work. And Zane had said to wait until Tuesday to arrange a second outing. Since Zane’s advice had worked so far, it seemed wise to stick with it. “But I’ll see you in the lobby. And when I return to the SC to task, I’ll see you — ”

“I want you to kiss me,” she said.

Oh. He started tapping his leg as his mind raced, looking for escape. “Some scientists of Old hypothesized that the practice of kissing originated from animal feeding rituals when a mother masticated food, then passed it to her offspring by mouth.”

Ciddah blinked and tilted her head to the side. “Mason, I want a kiss, not your regurgitated sandwich.”

“Sorry.” His stomach clenched, and he looked at the floor. Nothing to do now but kiss the girl and hope she found it satisfactory. Or he could just run for it.

He didn’t want to run, though. He liked Ciddah very much. She was perfect — except for being the enemy, of course, and for her views on procreation, and the fact that she had the plague. And he should likely weigh her dishonesty more heavily against her as well. And her friendship with
Lawten.

Why did she have to be the enemy?

He looked up and found her staring, and in her gaze, he lost his train of thought. Such a lovely girl. Smart too. It would hurt when she betrayed him again. It seemed almost as if she’d taken his heart from him already. Put it in a box. He felt fragile and empty at the very idea of walking away and never seeing her again.

He couldn’t.

For Levi, right? For Glenrock? A little pain was worth the cause of freedom for his people. Even if it bound him to this woman.

He inched forward, and the soles of his shoes scratched over the carpeted floor. Should he do something with his arms? In Old movies
men were always grabbing a woman’s face or waist or pushing them up against a wall.

Mason reached out and took hold of her hands, threaded his fingers with hers. He dove toward her lips, but their noses struck. Ciddah turned her head, but Mason pulled back. “Sorry.”

Ciddah tugged on his hands. “You’ve never kissed anyone, have you?”

Mason’s cheeks burned. “I have.” Though Eliza had instigated the act. Apparently there was more to instigation than he had surmised. Flustered, his hands began to tremble. He tried to pull them free.

But Ciddah held tight. “Why don’t you try again?”

Try again? When he’d rather go home and avoid Ciddah for the rest of his life?

But he couldn’t very well do that, not after all the work he’d put into today. And he couldn’t stand outside her door any longer, either.

Twelve. He’d been twelve the last time Eliza had kissed him, and he felt twelve all over again. He hadn’t anticipated kissing Ciddah, or he would have researched the topic on the grid.

Mason leaned toward her, slowly, hands still trembling. She turned her head a little and closed her eyes. Mason waited until he was certain of his aim before closing his eyes.

Their lips met. His were stiff and puckered, hers soft. She released his hands, and hers slid around his neck, pulling him closer. The space between them seemed to disintegrate. While Mason was awkward, Ciddah was confident. And just as hormones flooded his bloodstream, creating a sense of euphoria, Ciddah pulled away, leaving Mason winded and wanting.

She smiled, resplendent, and set her fist against the door pad, never breaking eye contact. “Good night, Mason.”

He released a quivering breath. “Good night.”

She went inside and closed the door, abandoning Mason to the hallway. He stood there, still stunned by the effect she’d had on him. He’d thought he was going to lure Ciddah into his trap, but somehow things had gotten completely turned around.

L
evi rode with Zane in a black bullet truck through the Midlands. It was Saturday, after lunchtime. Levi had been up since 4:30 a.m., which was the only way to get a ride from the cabin if he needed to visit the city in the daytime.

The electrified gauges on the windshield and the silence of the engine still amazed him, but his thoughts dwelled on Beshup from Jack’s Peak. Zane had confirmed that Beshup was in the Safe Lands and tasking in the Midlands. If Chief Kimama had heeded Levi’s warning and helped him back when he’d asked, things might be different now. But there was no point in saying “I told you so” since they were all in this prison now. They may as well work together — if Beshup would agree.

Zane took Gothic Road to Outrun. Once they passed 4th, warehouses ran all along both sides of Outrun. Zane pulled into a parking lot outside a long building labeled Leather Works Design.

“Will anyone care if I just walk in?” Levi asked Zane.

“Doubt it. Manufacturing isn’t the loftiest of tasks. That’s why it’s in the Midlands. Here.” Zane reached across Levi’s lap and opened the glove compartment. He pulled out a large padded envelope. “Say you
have a message for your peer, and someone will call him to the front. Don’t take too long. Make plans to meet later.”

“What’s in this?”

“A clean Wyndo. I was going to give it to you for Shaylinn, but I figured she could wait.”

“She can. Thank you, Zane.” Levi took the envelope, got out of the truck, and entered the building. He stopped inside a small reception area. The air smelled of oil and leather.

A woman looked up from a desk. “May I help you?”

“Message for Beshup.”

“Beshup Chua?”

Beshup must have taken his son’s name as a surname. The five-year-old had likely been taken to the boarding school, away from both his parents and his little brother Matsiku, who’d be in the nursery. What a mess.

“Yes,” Levi said. “Beshup Chua.”

“One moment.” The woman tapped her GlassTop screen, and when she spoke again, her voice came out through speakers in the ceiling. “Beshup Chua, you have a message in reception. Beshup Chua to reception, please.” Another tap and she looked at Levi. “Go ahead and take a seat, if you like.” This time her voice didn’t amplify.

Levi perched on the end of a chair, anxious to see Beshup.

“What salon you go to, valentine?”

Levi turned his attention back to the receptionist. “I’m sorry? We’re you talking to me?”

“Are those plugs?” She touched her hair.

“I’m not infected.” Maybe he should quit bathing. Then these people would stop staring at him everywhere he went.

“Walls! How’d you manage that?” she asked.

“I’m an outsider. Was.”

“You need someone to show you around, outsider, you give me a tap. I’m here Wednesday to Saturday, eight to four.”

She could dream. “I’m married.”

She leaned forward, as if she’d misheard him. “You’re what?”

“Levi of Elias,” a deep voice said.

Levi looked toward the doorway behind the reception desk and saw his friend standing there. Beshup was a few inches taller than Levi and had long blond hair, which he wore in two braids. He was wearing a thin, gray jumpsuit like the one the medics had given Levi after they’d captured him and taken his clothes. The number four glowed white on his cheek.

Levi got up, trying not to grin. “I have a message for you.” He held up the envelope, then glanced at the receptionist, whose gaze bounced back and forth between Beshup and Levi. “Why don’t we step outside for a moment?”

“If you insist,” Beshup said.

Levi pushed open the door and held it wide for Beshup. When they were both standing outside, Beshup clapped his hands onto Levi’s shoulders.

“It is good to see you alive, my friend. You always were a wild rabbit. I’m surprised you haven’t waged war on this place.”

“And what about you?” Levi asked. “Didn’t you say Jack’s Peak would kill all who stood in your way?”

“I’m still determining whether I can do so and see my family and tribe live.”

“I may have a way,” Levi said. “I heard through Mason that Tsana is well.”

Beshup’s eyes widened. “How? Did he see my wife?”

Levi explained how Mason tasked in the Surrogacy Center, how the Safe Lands had the Jack’s Peak women in the harem, and how Levi was trying to find a way to free the Glenrock children.

“Are your women in this harem as well?” Beshup asked.

“Not anymore.” Thankfully. “We got them out.”

“Then you can help me free the women of Jack’s Peak.”

If only it were that easy. “We can’t talk here.” Levi handed Beshup the padded envelope. “Inside is a Wyndo that can’t be traced. It works like a CB, but more high-tech. My number is programmed into the memory. We have a meeting tonight. Do you have transportation?”

“I have two feet. But my tasking shift ends in a half hour. Can you wait?”

Would Zane want to wait? Doubtful. “See that black truck that looks like a bullet?” Levi nodded to Zane’s vehicle. “That’s our ride. I’ll see you soon.”

Zane didn’t want to wait, so they ran some errands and came back. Then Zane drove Beshup to his apartment and explained how the SimTags worked to track them. Beshup had no desire to wait until they met up with Mason. He cut out his own SimTag and wrapped toilet paper around his hand.

Once that was done, Zane drove them to the small house where they’d left Jordan that morning. Apparently, it was the same house the people of Glenrock had come in through the basement after deserting Bender’s bunker on their way to the cabin. Here they would have the men’s meeting while they waited for it to get dark enough to return to the cabin and meet with everyone. Getting the men together in advance allowed for more purposeful talk, as some of the women tended to get emotional.

Zane parked out front and they went inside. The place reminded Levi of the Old houses in Crested Butte. It had a small living room that opened into a kitchen in the back of the house. A cluster of mismatched recliners and kitchen chairs were circled up in the center of the living room. Mason and Omar had joined Jordan, and all three greeted Beshup and expressed concern for the people of Jack’s Peak.

“What happened that day?” Jordan asked. “Did someone in your village betray you?” He shot Omar a dark glance.

“No. Their warriors came before dawn. They came in the copters. The noise woke us, but their lightning guns quickly put our men to sleep. Once we knew what was happening, our men and women fought bravely and killed many enforcers. But our ammo ran out and theirs did not. By dawn, it had ended. The children were loaded into a copter. Then it returned for the women, then the men. My father was taken and Chief Kimama as well.”

“Elsu lives? And Chief Kimama?” Levi couldn’t believe it. The woman was almost ninety.

“They took them alive,” Beshup said, “but I have not seen them since we left the City Hall.”

“Liberated, like my mother,” Levi said.

“What does this mean, liberated?” Beshup asked.

“We don’t exactly know, but we’re trying to find out.” Too many things to worry about and too little time.

Beshup asked more questions about the harem, so Mason did his best to explain what he knew, how he’d helped free the women, and how Mia and Jennifer had chosen to stay behind.

“They are fools,” Beshup said. “Dancing with the coyote is a dangerous game.”

“I think everyone who lives here is dancing with the coyote,” Levi said, which made Jordan laugh.

But Beshup nodded solemnly. “The coyote is always making mischief, but time is evolving again. We saw America come and go. And now we will see the Safe Lands come and go. Mother Earth must purify the land before it can be renewed.”