For Darkness Shows the Stars (22 page)

B
ENEDICT TOOK ELLIOT BY
surprise. He hauled feed bags and curried horses and helped her check on the supply of food and other goods at the Reduced barracks. He made the rounds with her as she visited each of the remaining Posts, and smiled and chatted with all of them, even those who were suspicious and openly hostile.

“It’s funny,” he said to her as they traveled from cottage to cottage. “There does not seem to be much love for your father among the CORs on the estate, but they are still willing to believe his story.”

“We tend to call them Posts now, as they desire,” Elliot said.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Benedict’s expression was jovial. “COR sounds so artificial in my mouth, but it’s the terminology your father uses. Not much of a surprise.”

Elliot was silent, as every minute a new theory bloomed in her mind. Did he hope to win the North Posts to his side in a potential battle over his inheritance? Did he hope to win her over, too? One thing was clear, her cousin was no fool. It had taken him no time at all to assess how things worked on the estate. Of course, Admiral Innovation had told her when he first arrived that it was well known throughout the islands that Elliot was the only person to get things done here. Perhaps Benedict had known it long before he arrived.

Perhaps he thought the workers’ lack of loyalty to Baron North would be an easy way to reclaim what was his.

“When I was younger,” he said, “I didn’t realize why they preferred to be called Posts. Living in the enclave down in Channel City taught me the difference. A ‘Child of the Reduction’ is just that—an offshoot of the Reduced, a juvenile, and still inextricably linked to his ancestor’s limitations. There is also the theory very popular on a few of the estates in the south that CORs are nothing more than the product of illicit Luddite liaisons with the Reduced. That they never overcame the Reduction on their own at all. You can imagine how the term might be offensive to the Posts.”

She didn’t have to imagine. She’d met Andromeda.

“But a
Post-Reductionist
 . . .” Benedict raised his eyebrows in appreciation. “That’s something else entirely. A Post has moved past his humble beginnings. A Post is looking at the future, and not the past.” He regarded Elliot. “I assume these Cloud Fleet Posts are filled with the same sort of boundless optimism?”

“They are focused on the future, yes,” Elliot replied safely, as they walked on.

“Little wonder,” said Benedict. “There isn’t much in the past that they’d find appealing. But even I, born a Luddite, prefer the potential of the future. Don’t you, cousin?”

Elliot was so taken aback by his bluntness that she nodded before she could stop herself.

“I knew we’d see eye to eye. You think like me. You know, watching the enclaves grow these last ten years from tiny shantytowns filled with beggars and thieves to prosperous neighborhoods, seeing the success of Posts like your Fleet, it isn’t hard to read the writing on the wall.”

“Oh really?” Elliot asked. She ignored his use of “your Fleet.” It was not hers. Certainly not.

“The Post-Reductionists are right.” Benedict nodded with certainty. “The Reduction is coming to a close.”

Elliot was rendered speechless. She’d never heard anyone talk such heresy. And certainly not a Luddite.

“For now,” Benedict continued, “Posts who are dissatisfied with their estates have merely run away, but mark my words, revolution is coming. Perhaps not here, but on other estates. Estates where the Luddite lords’ mistreatment veers into cruelty. Or maybe just when there are so many free Posts that the Luddites can no longer maintain control. Do you know where you want to be when that happens, Elliot?”

“Here,” said Elliot immediately. “If there’s an uprising, then the Reduced on the estate are in danger.”

Benedict blinked several times, as if surprised by her response.

“The Reduced haven’t died off yet,” she added. And, even by the most generous estimates, only one in twenty children born to a Reduced was a Post. It would be many generations, if ever, before the Reduction could truly be over.

But Benedict still wore an odd expression, and sheepishly Elliot realized what he’d meant by his question. He’d been asking which side she’d choose, not who she’d choose to protect. She ducked her head in embarrassment.

“Perhaps we should go to the Boatwright estate now,” he said, smirking, and Elliot was too flustered to protest.

“I’m glad to see that the Norths have mended their breach with the Groves,” Benedict was saying as they took the path through the forest. “I saw Horatio Grove down in Channel City last year, and I wasn’t sure if I should approach him or not.”

“Relations have been good between us ever since Horatio and Olivia’s father died,” said Elliot. “I always gathered that my father’s argument was with him, personally, but neither the Grove children nor my sister and I ever knew what it was about, so it seemed foolish to continue holding grudges from the last generation.”

Benedict grinned. “You really don’t know? Well, I guess I’m here to reveal the truth behind all the family secrets, then.”

Elliot stopped on the path. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled. “Elliot. You’re serious?” When she made no response, he continued. “It never occurred to you to wonder why your mother, who was as capable a woman as anyone ever knew, would marry a man like your father?”

Of course it had. “Are you saying that my mother was in love with old Mr. Grove?”

“I’m saying your mother was engaged to marry him.” Benedict nodded as Elliot’s mouth gaped open. “Oh, yes. I remember going to their betrothal party when I was very, very young.”

“Then why didn’t they get married?”

“Because my father died.”

Elliot stared at him in disbelief, but there was no deception in his words or face.

“The North estate is the largest one on this side of the island.”

“You’re saying my mother left Mr. Grove for my father because he was richer?” Little wonder Kai had offered to pay her off. She came from a long line of women for whom love was nothing in the face of money.

“No!” Benedict burst out laughing. “Because they all thought that marriage to her would help keep Uncle Zachariah in line. The Boatwrights and the Groves—they needed the North estate to survive. If it were to fail, then not only would the people living on the North lands starve, but everyone else would suffer as well. You know that. You’re just like your mother.”

No, Benedict was surely not stupid. He knew precisely what to say. She used to lie awake nights, hoping her mother would have approved of the choice she’d made four years ago. Now she knew it for certain. She and her mother were the same—she’d given up the person she loved for the good of the North estate. And her father had never associated with his neighbor because of Mr. Grove’s history with his wife.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know this. I thought it was the reason you’re still here.”

Elliot swallowed. “What do you mean?” Had he heard, down in the enclaves, that she’d once promised Kai she’d run away? Did he know every secret her family had ever held?

“If you didn’t think you needed to remain here and work, wouldn’t you want to marry Horatio and get out from under your father’s thumb?”

Now it was Elliot’s turn to laugh. He must have been talking to Tatiana. “Horatio Grove?” she joked. “You think he’d marry me?”

Benedict’s voice was soft when he replied, “Anyone would marry you, Elliot.”

Elliot was saved from responding by the sound of a horse’s hooves pounding down the path. A moment later, one of the giant Innovation horses came galloping toward them. Tatiana sat in the saddle. She pulled the beast up short before it mowed them down.

“Watch it!” she cried, scowling. Her sharp, pretty face looked pale. “What are you doing wandering around in the woods with Benedict?”

“We were going to the Boatwright house.”

“Me, too,” she said, flipping the reins in her hands. “We need Felicia back here at once. I hope she’s not so busy with Olivia that she can’t spare time for Grandfather.”

“What happened?” Elliot asked. “Tatiana, what happened?”

Tatiana gave an aggravated snort. “He had a stroke this morning, Elliot. Maybe if you’d been home instead of out socializing, you’d know that.”

Dear Kai,

I’m sorry I can’t come see you today. My dad overheard me calling you and your dad Posts instead of CORs. He thinks I spend more time than is good for me with you and Ro. I don’t really understand it, personally. I mean, if we’re supposed to own the lands and take care of everyone who lives on it, doesn’t it make sense to be involved? To make sure we know every bit of the land and the people who work it as well as possible? My teachers are always going on and on about Luddite
stuwart
stewardship of the Earth—if that’s true, then shouldn’t we actually make sure that the Earth is being properly stewed?

I don’t think that’s the right word.

Your friend,

Elliot

Dear Elliot,

No, it’s not.

I’m bored here today. Whenever the harvest is in, there’s nothing much to do and there aren’t any good books in the COR library right now. There never are.

Not that that’s a hint or anything.

Your friend,

Kai

Dear Kai,

Here are some books. I think you’ll like the ones about the old inventors. I got them from our library. My dad must not know they are here. I’m sure he’d burn them if he did.

Your friend,

Elliot

Dear Elliot,

These are amazing! I love these stories. I love the one about Tesla and Edison. And Marconi, and the Curies, and Einstein, and Watson and Crick, and Gavin and Carlotta. The world must have been such a fascinating place before the Reduction. Can you imagine being allowed to make anything you wanted? I wonder if there’s anyplace on Earth where they still can.

Your friend,

Kai

Dear Kai,

I hope not! Can you imagine how dangerous that would be? Didn’t you read the part where Marie Curie died because of all the experiments she did with radiation? And Einstein was sorry he helped make the atomic bomb. Some experiments are okay, I guess, but there are too many that are way too dangerous.

Your friend,

Elliot

Dear Elliot,

But you don’t know they are too dangerous until later. Like Watson and Crick and Gavin and Carlotta—they were just trying to help people. They had no idea it would cause the Reduction.

Your friend,

Kai

Dear Kai,

My teachers say that’s why it’s best if you just don’t do anything that hasn’t been done before. That way you always know it’s safe.

Although now that I think about it, that’s kind of stupid. Nothing can ever be exactly the same. We plant wheat every year, year after year, but it’s always a bit different. Like a different tempratchure, or the amount of rain. And now we have CORs. When my grandfather was young, there weren’t any CORs. They were totally new, but we didn’t get rid of them.

And I’m really glad of that!

Your friend,

Elliot

Dear Elliot,

Me too! I would like it if things changed. Not being able to do experiments seems very dull to me. I’ve been hearing stories about places where Posts live all by themselves without any Luddites telling them what to do. They get married, they go wherever they want without permission, they have their own businesses, they have solar-powered lights, and they all wear clothes in
brite
bright colors. I wonder if they do experiments too?

One day I want to go live there.

Your friend,

Kai

Dear Kai,

Don’t go live in a Post enclave. I’d miss you if you went away.

We can do experiements here. We just have to keep them a secret from my father—or anyone that would tell on us. Like Tatiana.

Stay with me, Kai. I promise we can do whatever you want.

Your friend,

Elliot