Aquifer (13 page)

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Authors: Jonathan Friesen

BOOK: Aquifer
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I peer through a window. A man embraces his wife inside their dwelling. She kisses his neck and he bends, scoops up children into his arms. They climb on him as if he were a recreation tower. I want it. Longing fills me, and I want that.

“If I do this,” I say. “If I become this judge —”

“As I said, you already —”

“Nope. Stop. Rule number one: you will not interrupt me.”

Etria cocks his head and offers a slight bow. “Agreed.”

“Rule two: I don’t want the chair. I don’t want the hall. Or the applause or anything that sets me apart.” I point at the family. “I want that. No more Other.”

“I … don’t know that the option exists. You are special. We could not regard you otherwise.”

“Then don’t regard me.” I push by him and march down toward the Aquifer. There’s a man I need to see, and I know where I’ll find him.

CHAPTER
21

I
walk toward the shimmering water, my face tight, my fists balled. Strange; all around me is talk and freedom, but my face has become what I hate about those above. I feel bound.

Perhaps there is more Topper in me than I thought.

It takes some time to pass through the Dwellings, skirt the outdoor market, and reach the Aquifer, but soon I stand on its shore, peering out at the underground sea. On my left, a group of children squeals and plays in the sand. But the man I seek wouldn’t be found near them.

I turn my back on the children and walk. I pause, kick off my shoes, and feel the sand squish between my toes. It is cool, like the Shallows. It’s in my memory.

“Well, Old Rub, this would be a place you’d like to see …”

There he is
.

Seward sits alone on a stony shelf overlooking the water. I pad toward him, climb up beside, and plunk down. He neither nods nor turns, and we sit in the quiet.

The squawk of seagulls interrupts the moment.
How did they reach this place?
The birds round us, begging for handouts, but soon realize we aren’t in the mood and fly off. I peek at my uncle. I don’t know where my mate is, but he’s far from here.

Finally, he speaks. “What’s the difference, lad? Tell me, between where we were and where we are?”

I pick up a stone and skip it into the sea. “Are you kidding? Is anything the same? Salt water, freshwater. Amongus, no … Well, one Amongus. No freedom, total freedom, being wrinkle free.”

“Are you free? Am I free?”

“Not completely,” I say quietly, and exhale. “Birth still dictates what I will be, and I’m still Other.”

Seward glances down. “It be truth that above we are watched, directed, controlled. We have lost our souls. Most Toppers are no longer wild men. It’s why piracy isn’t about the gain.” He gestures toward the water. “But be we any different here? Is anything real? Take the sea; you could walk across it. It’s been tamed. Those clouds be the work of skilled hands. The air we breathe, the cool of the day — all controlled, directed. Hearts be free, but the body is trapped in a forever of comfort and safe.”

He stares out again. “And to think I spent a life desiring this, Massa’s world. I knifed for it.”

Suddenly he grabs a rock and hurls it into the Aquifer. After a great splash, the water stirs, then ripples, then stills. “Does the true sea do that? Can I dent it?” Again, he hurls a stone. “Ripples be the same every time.” He gazes into my eyes, his on fire. “I’ll miss it, Luca. The wildness of life. The danger of feelings and sudden storms and shark attacks. I’ll miss life.”

I don’t know what to say, but inside, desperation grows.

“So, mate” — his voice quiets — “live on, safe and secure.”

“And you?”

“Only you know the path to the surface. I have no choice. I’ll find honest work. Piracy is no longer an option, or I be judged most severely by my mate.”

“Why are you being so hard on me?” I frown. “Coming here wasn’t my choice. Who brought me? Huh? What have I done?”

“You’ve blasted forgotten why we came.”

I shake my head. “No, I remember it all. I need to stay alive. You said it yourself.”

“But why? Why live, Luca? For the comforts? Then you be in the right place. Or did another concern drive you here?”

Father Massa
.

Seward sighs. “You didn’t know him. You saw a quiet fool drowning in sorrow. But remember, as you judge this world, your father is torn up in another. And my brother be a great man.”

A great man
.

The panic inside turns to dread. In the flight, hiding below seemed reasonable, but the backside of all things wasn’t known. Seward is right; with the exchange just a sham, Father would tell them nothing of the route, and be treated most severely for his silence. And the surface, so filled with fear, could spiral out of control.

“You’re my hero, and a great man,” I recite. “And tomorrow, you’ll be great again. That’s what I told him before every descent, when his mind was rough and the night was bad.”

“Your hero? So you lied to him once a year.” Seward stands and brushes off his hands. “Well, mate, for certain, you have important preparations for your big moment. I go to find Jasper and Wren. I didn’t speak to the former last night, and for Wren
I have many questions.” He takes one last look at the glassy sea. “Enjoy the view.”

I sit alone on the ledge. Seward hates me or is disappointed in me or pities me — I can’t tell which. I only know he suffers, and Father suffers, and none of this was the plan.

I never had a plan.

I toss pebbles into the water, watching the ripples expand and vanish.

Same. Same. Same.

CHAPTER
22

S
eward’s wrong.

I have nothing important to do. I wander through the Dwellings, the weight of Seward’s words heavy on my heart. Though I’m hugged and greeted, welcomed and cheered, there’s no denying that I am again alone.

My wanderings take me around the roots of the mountain-like system of homes, and as I walk, small shops appear, not so different than those sprinkled among the residentials topside. Clothiers and bakeries and salons line the streets, and I pause to gaze through a shop window. A second too long.

“Oh, Luca, we need to fix what was.” A woman rushes out and grabs my arm. “Oh, yes, we will rid you of these.” She lifts my locks and lets them flop. “I declare, you’ll be thanking me soon.” She leads me to a chair. “Every time I see Massa, I tell him the same. ‘You’ll be on the front edge of a whole new style.’ But he only laughs. Never makes it to the chair.”

No, he never made it to the chair. He should have, though. He should be there now
.

“Hold it.” I lift my hand. “I have no credits, or whatever you use here.”

I am ignored, and an hour later I stand, my hair, golden and smooth, pulled back into one braid and falling down my back.

Won’t sit well with Seward
.

“Say, I … I need to speak to someone. Do you know Talya, Etria’s daughter?” Women glance at each other, smile and nod. One waves a hand my way and proclaims, “Isn’t that an irony? Such strange and wonderful things happen when they turn of age.”

She reaches for my hand and leads me to a back room bathed in yellows and oranges.

“A node?” I ask. “Inside?”

“We paid handsomely to build on top of it, but …” She removes her glove. “It’s grand.”

No. I’ll do this node thing with Talya, but not —

Too late. She slaps down her free hand and my stomach drops. I surge forward, cooling, cooling, and then warming again. I open my eyes in a small room drenched in light. Talya reads in the corner. My escort pats my back and disappears. Before a hello forms on my lips, Talya slaps shut the book.

“You can’t be here.”

“I … I don’t even know where here is. You can read too? Never mind.”

Calm, Luca
.

But I can’t calm. A loose, woven tunic falls over her upper body, curves around her thighs. Her arms and legs are light and beautiful. My gaze traces her lines, and my fingers stiffen, wanting nothing more than to trace them as well.

“Luca?”

I swallow hard. “I’m sorry, sometimes I stare. See, I was there, and then suddenly I was here. Honestly, I just asked if she knew you and then —”

“This is not a good time or place for explanations,” she hisses. “Father would say that I am not the appropriate one to receive your attentions. The city is filled with fine choices. All would show you around.”

“But I don’t want plenty of people. I sort of want one people — I mean, one person. I want you.” I kick the ground. “What I’m saying is, I want you to show me around … No, I don’t.”

“You don’t.” She rises and nears me.

I exhale hard and push my hand through my hair. It’s sweaty. “Yes, I do.”

“You’re a bit hard to follow.” Talya stops directly in front of me, a bit too close, or maybe not close enough. Either way, I’m rooted.

I cover my eyes; it’s my only hope of forming a complete thought. “I need questions answered, and your father won’t help me.”

I crack my knuckles and watch Talya’s eyes soften. “That’s why you came? For answers to questions?”

“I came to you.”

“Yes. You did.” She smiles, and I warm and wonder how long her mood will control mine.

“If I do this, which I shouldn’t, we need to return soon. Before my father does.”

I turn and march toward the door.

“If we are going to avoid Father, we best travel as shadow.” She yanks my newly done hair, and I take a breath.

Cool. Warm.

Books.

Thousands and thousands of books. They line the walls, floor to ceiling.

“This is a good place,” Talya whispers. “As I’m always here.” She closes the door into the back area. “It’s the study room.”

“You can study anything?” I ask. “Whenever you want?”

“It’s a library, Luca.”

I don’t recognize the word, but pretend that I do. I nestle into a chair and massage my scalp. I’ve never been transported by the hair before. For a long time we sit and look at each other, though our gazes, I think, land in different places. I shift, but don’t want to leave this stare.

“You speak very little for somebody with questions,” she says.

“Oh, right. I, um … I’ve never seen this many books.”

Talya glances out at the stacks. “The library is great, but it gets tiresome. All the books written from the same perspective. All written belowground. I wish we had some of yours, from above. I would love to know what you know. You’ve seen both worlds.”

“We don’t have any books.” I exhale. “Not quite true — I found some. I brought two with me.”

“Where?” She perks up.

“My bag. Wherever that is. I lost track of it my first night in the hall.”

She bites her lip. “It’s still there. Nobody is allowed to touch anything of yours without permiss —”

“Talya, of course! She was to be at home. Have you seen her?”

Etria’s voice is muffled, but unmistakable through the door. Talya drops to the ground. “These next minutes are not going to go well.”

She climbs beneath the table, and I shuffle my chair in front of her. Etria’s eyes fix on us through the clear partition, his jaw tightening.

“He’s coming. I’m sorry, Talya, I didn’t mean to cause trouble —”

“Quiet, Luca. Answer this. What do you think of when you see me?”

“What?”

“Quick. What do you think of?” The door opens.

“Talya. This is the height of folly,” Etria snaps, bends over, reaches out his hand …

“Hope,” I say quietly. “I hope.” Her hand clasps my ankle.

And with her touch, the room lightens and we both disappear.

CHAPTER
23

W
e pop out of the water rock and find ourselves in the midst of peaceful woods, beside a quiet stream. The journey to the hall for my books had been quick; the trip here required a mighty breath.

“Hope is good.” Talya’s eyes sparkle as she hands me my backpack. “Very good.” She winks. “And I like the hair.”

“Won’t your father —”

Talya gently places her finger on my lips.

Just keep your mouth shut, Luca
.

We turn and wander along the bank.

“Few people come out here, to the treed outskirts. These areas were all planned by past Deliverers, and for the Deliverers. Everyone wants you content. We tried to bring as much of your world into ours as we could.”

For a moment, it feels real. The gurgling water, the piped-in breeze, the rustling in the trees — if you didn’t know the original,
you’d be hard-pressed to find a flaw in the copy. But I do know it, and so does Seward; the wild is missing.

“Are we heading somewhere in particular?” I ask.

“We’re walking to Wren’s.” She slows, glances at her feet. “Walking. Hmm.” Talya smiles broadly. “She’s an outlier, choosing to live away from the Dwellings. She tends to the trees and the shrubs. During her years above, her home fell into disrepair, and much that’s green overgrew, but I think her plans were to return. My mother says she used to take me to this stream before Wren left surfaceward.” Talya throws back her hair. “If Wren’s here, this is a good place for us. I think my return home will be unpleasant. Father and my two brothers are searching right now, but I don’t think they’ll look outside the Dwellings.”

I nod. “They don’t trust me.”

“Judges function outside the rules. You define our system. You can do whatever you please, and the people will not question. No, it’s me they don’t trust. Now that I’ve turned six thousand.”

I freeze. “Years?”

She smacks my shoulder and it deadens. “Days, you idiot. I’ve reached joining age. I have one hundred days to find a companion, or one is found for me.”

Please say you haven’t
.

I swallow, but the dryness remains. “Have a, have you …”

“Not yet. And until I do, my brothers keep close watch over me.”

We walk in silence. The stream bubbles, but I’m suddenly grim. “Do you have any prospects?”

“I have a possibility. At least I hope I do.” She glances down. “I’ve known him for a long time.”

I want to ask more, to find out who the bloke is. I could surely find him guilty of something.

“I’ll just judge this whole system as unfair. Can’t I do that?”

“You can try.” She pauses. “But judges come and go. The systems keep life in place.”

Systems. Yes, Seward was right. Things here are not so different from above.

“But now, Luca, could I see a book? I’d love to look at one. A really old one.”

“Take your pick.”

She reaches in and pulls out the red one, Massa’s.

“That belongs to my father. He always held it, and when it wasn’t held, it was hidden. Even from me.”

“Maybe I should take another —”

“No.” I push it toward her. “Go ahead. Read it. I’d like to know what’s in it, and my reading isn’t great.”

She nods. “Well, it’s handwritten. Page one says, ‘To Luca, my son, whom I love.’ ”

I slow and regain my step. “That’s a nice start.”

“ ‘I want you to know everything, and as I may not have the opportunity to tell you, it is my hope that someday you will find the truth in this book. First of all, I want to tell you about your mother.’ ”

I snatch the book back from Talya, close it, and gently place it back in the pack.

Her eyebrows furrow. “Don’t you want to know what Massa says?”

“I can’t. If there’s even a chance I’m going to stay here, I can’t. I can’t know more about him or hear more about him. If I stay, I need to forget.”

Talya leans into my shoulder. “And if you don’t stay?”

“Your father says that’s not an option.”

“My father has been in charge too long.” She steps in front of me, presses her finger to my chest. “What does this say?”

“It says that there are some desirable things here.”

Talya winks. “This is good.” She glances over her shoulder. “We’re here.”

Ahead, a cottage rests on a spread of green grass. It’s a welcoming site, surrounded by trees and beside a large garden. Constructed of logs, not stone, the home could have come from the wealthy Telurine neighborhood of New Pert. Smoke churns from the smokestack, and the door stands open. We walk inside. It isn’t the quiet moment I’d hoped for.

“What is going on?” I glance at Talya.

“The group now be compete, just as you predicted.” Seward pushes back from the large round table and stands. “Though I admit I was not expectin’ his daughter.”

“Oh, I was.” Wren rises from the table where Jasper relaxes, and embraces first me, then Talya. She points to two empty chairs and moves to shut the door. “Luca, I will not delay. Time does not favor us. Now that you’ve heard what’s expected from you here, the moment has come for you to decide your course, and in some ways the course of us all.”

The crackling fire should warm the small cottage, but I feel cold. Cold and tired of decisions. Talya runs her hand along the dark stone, and then breathes deep.

Wren notices. “Yes, we are off the Aquifer. Nobody pops in here. Any guests will be coming the old-fashioned way. Please, sit.”

I don’t feel like sitting.

“Why did you bring me down here, Wren? Weren’t there other places Seward could have stashed me? Secluded places.
Maybe the outer Northern Territories?” I ask. “I could have taken care of myself.”

“That’s me lad!” Seward slaps the table. “Thinkin’ like your uncle, you are.”

“Haven’t you read your father’s book?” Wren says quietly. “Why else would I teach you to read? Didn’t you see what Massa wanted for you? He wanted you to experience what he never himself received. Freedom.”

“You call this freedom?” Seward hisses.

“Easy, man.” Jasper lays his paw on Seward’s shoulder, but he pulls free.

“Yes. Freedom … the freedom to choose.” Wren walks into her kitchen, returning with two cups. She reaches both out to me. I shake my head.

“Denying both options is the only choice you don’t have.” Wren hands one mug to Seward and the other to Jasper. “Your father wanted to give you the world. All of it. What if I would have withheld this part from you?” She takes her seat. “You have a rightful place here. Respected. Honored. How could I deny you at least a glimpse at what could be yours?” Wren exhales. “But now I’ve completed my course. I’ve watched after you. I’ve brought you above and back again. The length of stay is left with you.”

I rub my forehead. “So all this — the hasty descent, our near undoing? This was to teach me to make a choice?”

“No,” she says. “The timing of this trip was accelerated. Massa’s disappearance wasn’t foreseen. The danger that exposed you to … Massa knew nothing about the timetable for those matters, and I believe we have Seward to thank for a timely rescue.”

I glance at my uncle and give a tight-lipped nod.

Wren picks up the pot of tea and begins to pour. “I left the note and brought you down to save your life. And in so doing, perhaps bought Massa some more time, though I don’t imagine it is comfortable time. We left your father behind, but he would not hold that against you. Even Seward, if honest, would agree.” Seward lowers his head, and Wren continues. “You have seen your birthright below.” She turns toward Talya. “And all that could go with it.”

Wren marches over to the fire, stares into the flames. “The world of the Toppers is not what it was. A civilization in tune to Massa’s every breath, as well as to yours, needs only days to fall into chaos. New Pert, the Swan, the wharf; the world you knew is changing, likely filled with the panic of a people convinced that in less than one year water will cease to flow. Not even the Amongus will be able to control the anarchy.”

“Etria said that when the Council sees you mean them no harm, all will be set to rights,” I say. “They will know there is no need for a Deliverer.”

Glasses tinkle on the shelf as a tremor works through the house, sloshing Seward’s tea onto the table. Wren grabs a nearby towel and wipes it dry. “Those still alive will know. But the decision to resurface goes beyond you or your father. Surface hoarding and violence will intensify. And the tremors. Luca, all this needs to be weighed in your decision.” She raises her eyebrows. “Yes, the tremors. The water source exists on a fault line, but these are not the once-a-decade rumblings from beneath. These are not the movements of earth.”

She stares into my eyes. “A question for a bright young man: What would you do if what you thought you needed to survive lay thousands of feet down, and you didn’t know the narrow path to reach it?”

It hits me. “Blast my way through.”

The room is very quiet.

“The Council,” I say. “They’re trying to dig their way down. Blasting from the surface.” I stare at Talya, her eyes wide. “Eventually your sky will fall.” I turn away, look at Wren instead. “But if I leave, they’re waiting to undo me.”

“Perhaps. But now that you have seen their prize, I think you have information they will want — about us, about how best to proceed. Though I shudder to think how they would extract it from you. Remember, the Aquifer is their goal. You and Massa are still the only ones who know both the way down and the way to the surface.”

It is silent. Jasper speaks.

“I don’t envy your choice, Luca, but I’ve made mine. After years on that island, speaking to critters to keep myself sane, well, this is a dream. A crumbling dream, but a fine one, nonetheless. I won’t be going back up.”

Seward rolls his eyes. “Then I’ll take the other. If by any means I can surface, then surface I will. It’s not perfect, and it sounds as though it be less perfect still, but it’s real.”

“So is this, Seward.” Jasper exhales.

“You be bewitched.”

“You’ve never had it so good.”

“Fool!” Seward rises.

“Pirate!” Jasper pounds the table.

“Men.” Wren sounds weary. “If I was an Amongus, each of you would be in for a good debriefing. Luca, take some time. But your choice must come soon. I suggest you stay far from the Dwellings … Movement through the Aquifer renders you too easily detained. Your coronation is mere days from now.” She gestures behind her. “Take the back room as your own. You’ll
find a private entrance. Come and go as you please. Walk the stream and think. I find it helps me.”

It’s too much to place on me. Too much, and I whisper to Talya. “I’m going to be living here then.”

“I know. That’s good. But please …” She turns me around and reaches into my pack, removes Father’s book once again. “Don’t make this decision alone.”

Wren smiles. “A very wise young lady.”

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