Rebels (5 page)

Governess kneeled in front of me, overseeing the final adjustments. Tightening every inch of me. I sensed her sudden worry and reached out to touch her cheek.

“Why are you sad, Governess?”

“I am not sad.”

“Yes, you are.”

Gently, she removed my hand from her face. “Livia, it is not proper to touch Governess in this manner.”

“What manner?”

“As though . . . she is your friend.”

I wrinkled my nose. I had always touched Governess. She
was
my friend. A friend who sometimes forced orders upon me that I found rather displeasing—demanding I finish a dish I disliked or go to my sleeper when I hadn't yet finished playing—but still a friend.

For a moment, I thought Governess might cry, something I had never seen her do. Instead, she squeezed my hand, fluffed my ruffles, and stood abruptly.

“Time to go, little one,” she said.

◊  ◊  ◊

Waslo looked me up and down, as he often did, though his reaction was somewhat surprising: he appeared pleased.

“Very good, Governess,” he said. “I am glad we had our discussion.”

This was long before my own
Discussions
started, yet I already disliked the word.

The three—Marius, Waslo, and Governess—stared down at me in heavy silence, their expressions making me squirm

“The shuttle is ready,” said Marius, breaking the quiet. She leaned down, giving me a comforting smile. “Are you ready, my love?”

For the first time, I wasn't quite sure.

◊  ◊  ◊

The shuttle pod ride was a journey, just as Marius had promised, though one I could have done without. I had never left the island, let alone seen the point where its farthest reaches met the sky.

“You must stay within the designated edges of Helix,” Governess often warned. She had shown me the posts stationed near the welcome gate and prohibited me from ever crossing them. She explained I would most likely be injured if I tried to go beyond. “There are traps to protect us from intruders near the edge, Livia. Invisible stinger barriers to deter trespassers. Hidden holes covered in synth-grass, large enough to swallow a tiny girl whole. You would end up at the bottom, alone in the dark, and we might never find you.”

“I'm not afraid,” I would say defiantly, though I did as I was told back then. I had never liked the dark. When I couldn't see my own hand in front of me, I felt strange, as though I might not even exist.
Now, here I was, detached from the ground where I had spent my entire life. Seeing the sky above Helix was one thing. Flying through it, something else.

I had never been so frightened in my life.

Our air transporter hurtled through the sky, dodging other shuttles and speeding around the edges of islands, my stomach jumping with each turn. I pushed my face against the window, but the view went by too quickly: clouds, blue sky, islands, transporters. The sky was more active when you were in it, not standing on solid ground.

Will we smash into something and explode?
I wondered.
Will pieces of us shower the skies?
I pushed my lips together to keep from squealing, wrapping my hand around Marius's wrist and holding tight.

“Do not worry, love,” she told me. “I will not let any harm come to you.”

◊  ◊  ◊

My legs were wobbly as I exited the shuttle. Standing on island ground, I wanted to lean over and hug the surface beneath my feet, until I recalled Waslo's final words before boarding the shuttle:
Do not draw attention to yourself, Livia. You must appear to be normal as everyone else. Just do as you are told and remain alert.

I tried to forget the fear I had felt moments earlier. Now I followed Waslo's advice, my eyes hungrily taking in this new island.

“We are within a group of islands,” said Marius, gently leading me forward. “The Education and Socialization Cluster, as they are referred to. This is the tiniest one, suitable for the youngest of trainees. You will start here and eventually progress to each one until your Emergence Ball.”

I could see the island's edge from our location, not more than a quick sprint distant, and wondered if there were hidden holes ready to swallow little girls here as well.

This might be an island, but in no way did it resemble my home.
The synth-grass was short and sparse, and the gardens featured traditional white lilies. On Helix, we had strange crossbreeds of roots and flowers. I could feel the garden crew's confusion with our decisions on every visit. Why did we program such strange new growths? Why did we allow the foliage to grow so thick?

I once asked Governess this very question, to which her response was simple: “That is what your mother wanted.”

I loved our gardens, my curiosity charged with every garden crew visitation, knowing soon the shocking pink blooms might be replaced by tiny purple buds, or our shiny nuts transformed to exotic, inedible fruits. How could the rest of Indra deny themselves the discovery that overnight, yellow blooms might burst forth from unexpected crevices, or disappear just as quickly?

When Governess made a rare attempt to program something less exotic, the results were never pretty. Hence the bitter-tasting apples.

The Helix gardens were my ever-changing playground, and at that moment, I would have given anything to be back there instead of on this tiny, unremarkable island where the growing things mirrored my unhappiness. Marius led us down a path lined with shrubs aggressively trimmed into stubby cubes and pyramids; I looked at their sharp angles and felt sorry for all who laid eyes on them.

We came to halt in a clearing where a shiny steel building rose to the sky. The light reflected strongly off its facade, obscuring the glowing hololetter sign: Socialization Club.

I had never seen other little girls, as strange as that seems now, and it was like encountering another species. Everything about them made me uncomfortable, from their high, tinkling laughter to their small hands. Not a bow untied or pleat untucked or strand of hair out of place. We all wore the same dress, with the same ribbons woven through our hair. Yet somehow, I knew we were nothing alike.

Silent, tall governesses watched from the edges with stony faces and stiff blue uniforms. These ones wore bulky utility holsters
strapped over their broad shoulders, the ones I knew to be packed with emergency components and child-rearing devices, including a stunner that administered a quick, painful shock.

Years earlier Governess had a holster of her own. I'd shocked myself playing with the stunner, but the tears were meaningless when compared to the sparks! The electric blue arc between the prongs! Governess woke to find me streaking the various multicolored antisepticizers across the wall and, in a final touch, burning a constellation of holes across the entire spread with the healing laser.

“Livia!” she bellowed, and I stepped back, grinning, to allow her a better perspective. I remember the surge of pride.
Look at this masterpiece!

The holster disappeared soon after, and I hadn't seen it again until a few days ago. I'd known something was different when Governess came to collect me for lunch, her footsteps slower and heavier in the hallway. When she appeared, I was greeted by the holster and her unhappy expression, her shoulder stooping under the weight. “Waslo deemed it necessary,” she said before I could speak. Then she gave me a knowing look. “And I am sure he will notice if items are missing or misused.”

I hadn't wanted to take anything except her pain. I could feel it coming off her in waves. And somehow, I knew the holster was only part of it.

In that moment, I had the distinct feeling everything was about to change.

Now, standing on this tiny, unfamiliar island, I took no pleasure in being correct. Especially without Governess by my side.

“Marius will serve as escort,” Waslo said shortly before departure. As usual, he seemed unaware of my presence, though I was right in front of him tapping on the marble floor. I was inventing a song in my head, my feet keeping the rhythm, though I was careful not to miss a word. “Curiosity will be high, of course, but Marius and I do have
a certain standing within Indra. Let the reports begin to circulate of our approval and the child's genetic well-being and pleasing manner. Is that agreeable?” He didn't wait for an answer. “Good. But what is causing that racket?”

I stopped tapping. Not for Waslo, but for Governess: the look on her face worried me.

Lately, smiles were less frequent and silence was becoming ordinary. I tried to barrage her with unnecessary questions and pointed out fresh stains as though surprised by them, but nothing got a reaction. I even hid her micro specs, the ones she used for her holoreader and to inspect for errant particles when the maids finished cleaning. She didn't even chastise me, just sighed heavily and said, “The time has come to cease with childish pranks.”

One girl in particular caught my eye. A group was gathered tightly around her with adoring faces. When she giggled, they giggled as well. When she spoke, they leaned in close to listen.

“Do not worry,” said Marius softly. “Your beauty is far superior to every last one of them. For that alone, they will want to be your friend.”

I didn't find this comforting. Even less comforting, the sudden, overwhelming wave of curiosity. The others had taken notice, and I could feel their eyes boring into me.

“Do not look away from me,” said Marius, catching my gaze. Her expression was unreadable. And in this face I knew so well, I couldn't help but see her as a stranger.

“You are doing just fine,” she continued. “Now I will stop talking, and I want you to say something. Then we will laugh. Not too loud, mind you, but just a little. I go quiet, you speak in a conversational manner, we laugh. Do you understand?”

I nodded. Suddenly, I did understand: Marius was playing a part. Waslo had said she would escort me, so she must be playing at “Escort.” Marius even had a costume, trading her usual shimmering
robes for simple beige ones. When I first saw her, I'd worried she might choke on the tall collar, or that her hair, piled dangerously high upon her head, might go toppling.

“Now I am done talking,” Marius said. “Your turn.”

“I do not know what to say,” I responded.

To that, she laughed, and I knew it was my time to do the same. We both laughed at nothing and it occurred to me this journey would be full of complications and nonsense.

“Very good, Livia,” she said. “They have all stopped looking by now, I am sure, and have been made well aware they cannot unnerve us. You may relax. Try to abstain from overtly gazing in their direction, I should say. Just for the time being.”

I wouldn't be able to help myself, I was sure, and didn't know in what direction to face. I chose the only safe place that came to mind.

“Socialization Club,” I said, reading the sign above my head.

◊  ◊  ◊

I'd been able to read since finding a holoreader in Father's study. It wouldn't be until much later that I discovered the zinger there.

I'd never used a holoreader myself, but I'd observed Governess's daily reading breaks. I often peeped over her shoulder in anticipation of the tiny men and women who popped off the screen. They wore elaborate dress and danced across the air in front of Governess. They frolicked through fields and reclined in their chambers, arms and legs entwined. Sometimes, oddly, they weren't wearing clothes at all.

“Why are they always napping?” I asked.

Governess started from her chair. “This is
not
for little girls,” she responded, snapping off the holoreader, the light of these little people's lives expiring.

Now I had Father's holoreader, and Governess would never know!
I carefully inserted a cartridge and the screen lit up. This one had no people, only bursts of light racing across the air in front of me. Words. Beautiful, luminous words.

I sounded them out as they skimmed the air, at first with much difficulty, then with growing ease, still not understanding their meanings, when I was interrupted with a gasp. Governess stared at me from the entrance. Her mouth dropped open. “Do not move,” she said. “I must send word to Marius and Waslo.”

Now I will have a Discussion
, I thought sourly, wishing I'd never found the thing in the first place.

Soon after, all three gathered to listen to me recite the words.

“Before Indra, the study of genetics was elementary at best. At their most basic level, genetics are understood to be the traits passed from parent to child. Those early researchers, with their prehistoric notions, could not comprehend our modern Indrithian science, our ability to control and perfect these basic human elements, to choose the most appealing and beneficial, therefore creating a human specimen with the most preferential makeup—”

“Impossible,” said Waslo, grabbing the holoreader from my small hands and scanning the screen furiously. He looked at Marius. “Word for word,” he said, full of disbelief. “She is not yet four. How could she possibly—”

“Do not forget her heritage,” Marius said, smiling at me. “Livia is special. We already knew that.”

She made
special
sound like a good thing.

“What is a ‘human specimen with the most preferential of makeup'?” I asked.

“You are, my love,” said Marius, smiling.

◊  ◊  ◊

Now, outside the Socialization Club, there was no smile. Here, I decided, being
special
was not a good thing. Between the rules and
Marius's playacting and the frightening ride from Helix, I wished I hadn't come in the first place.

Perhaps she saw my apprehension. Instantly, Marius's old self returned. She leaned over, face very close to mine, eyes wide and voice very low.

“Livia, I need you to promise me something.”