Inside the Palisade (11 page)

“Try these.” He takes the lamp from me and presses a pair of sturdy ankle boots into my hands, along with a clean pair of thick wool socks. The shoes look comfortable and well made, but I’m conscious they belong to one of his mothers. I slip on the socks first, and then the boots. Taking a few experimental steps, I almost overbalance. The shoes are too wide, but I should be
able to walk if I’m more careful.

“Good?” he asks.

“Yes. Thanks.”

He looks me up and down. “I should find you something else to wear.”

I blush as I scan my ratty robe.

“But we should probably take this stuff back to my room first.” He makes his way to the pile of supplies before pausing to ask, “While we’re out here, do you need to…?” He points in the direction where I assume the bathroom is. I haven’t had a chance to clean up since my shower earlier. The grime from the ducts covers my every pore and mats my hair. Clutching the lamp, I scurry in the indicated direction. Once inside the bathroom I lock the door.

Setting the lamp down, I examine the small space wondering why the bathroom is so tiny in such enormous quarters. I realize that it likely shares a wall with Ghent’s room. His mothers probably remodeled it to give him more space. Everything in here is white: tiles, towels, fixtures. The lamplight bathes the room in shadows, making my reflection in the mirror seem alien. The hollows remain under my mismatched eyes. Strange that Ghent hasn’t asked me about them.

Even in the dim light, I can see that my face is slicked with grease. My hair hangs in thick hanks around my shoulders. I gaze at the shower stall longingly, but I make do with splashing water on my cheeks and cleaning up as best I can. I try to pry some of the dirt from under my fingernails, but soon give up. There’s a lavender soap. It smells heavenly, and I use it liberally on my hands, reveling in its soothing scent and soft, creamy texture for as long as I dare.

An antique comb sits on a shelf beside the mirror. I hope no one will mind if I use it. Wetting it first, I attack the worst of the tangles in my hair and gradually restore order to chaos. I reach into my pocket, relieved to find a hair tie. I use it to slip my hair
into a ponytail before replacing the comb on the shelf. When I notice my reflection again, I’m surprised by the look of grim determination on my face. I’m going to get out of this mess somehow. And get Ghent outside the palisade.

When I leave the bathroom, the quarters are empty, and I panic for a few seconds before realizing that everything is exactly how we left it. Ghent must have gone back to his room. I head for the panel. It’s slightly ajar. I tap before entering. Ghent’s sitting cross-legged on the crate, wolfing down a nutri-bar.

“We need a plan,” I say as I snap the panel back into place. My voice is surprisingly confident. “We need to find out about your mothers. You said Epsie was sick.”

“It’s a kidney problem,” he says, offering me a nutri-bar. I wave it away even though I’m hungry. I need to focus. “She’s had it most of her life, but Del has been able to keep it under control, until now.”

“There must be a record of her in the Clinic, right?”

Ghent regards me with a scowl. “You don’t think I thought of that already? I can’t use any communications port without being discovered, and now neither can you.”

That’s true. With Commander Theta watching me, I can’t access the communications system either, not even from a public terminal. “We’ll have to ask someone else.” I fold my arms over my chest and lean back against the wall, trying to project confidence I’m not sure I feel.

“Brilliant idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” He shoves the last morsel of the nutri-bar into his mouth.

“Don’t get mad at me. We’re in this together now.”

Ghent is on his feet, pacing again. Tension crackles in the air around us.

“Who can we ask for help?” he says.

I shake my head, then look up at his eyes. They remind me of someone else, another set of warm brown eyes, soft and reassuring. “Gamma Temple. Her mother is a Med-Tech.”

Ghent’s brows shoot up as he strides forward and grabs my elbows, gripping them too tight. I cringe as pain shoots through my arm. “Did you say
Temple?
We can’t talk to them. Please tell me you didn’t say anything to the Temple family about me.”

“Ghent, what’s wrong?”

“The Temples! They’re all that’s left of an old religious order. They believe that men are evil, should be tortured, and killed. They were amongst those who planned the palisade and drove the men away in the first place. What did you tell them?”

He releases my arms and rakes his fingers through his hair, causing it to stick out in messy spikes. I clasp my hands together to steady them. “Ghent, they’re my friends. They know nothing about you. I promise.”

He paces across the room and leans into the wall, pressing his head into his forearms. Sweat stains his collar, and his hair is still a mess.

“Ghent, please.”

Finally, he looks in my eyes as if he can read the truth there. He lifts a hand to my face, stopping short of making contact. I think he’s trying to say that he trusts me. Not quite sure how to broach the subject again, I take a deep breath before speaking. “Hear me out. You don’t have to agree, and I won’t mention it again, but please listen at least once.”

He squints as if he’s in pain.

“Gamma Temple’s a friend,” I start.

He moves past me and slumps on the crate. I join him, maintaining a little distance, at least as much as possible on the small box.

“I know it’s a long shot,” I say, “but she may be able to help find out something about your mothers. Her mother is a Med-Tech, and Gamma may be able to access her datapad.”

“It’s too dangerous.” Ghent’s face is ashen. The Temples scare him. But he can’t be right about them. Ma Temple helped my mother hide the truth about me and my …
father.
For all this time.
Maybe if I tell him that part of my story, he’ll believe me, he’ll let them help us.

“There’s something I haven’t told you, about what the Temples did for me,” I say. “I think it will make you understand, that you can trust them. They kept a secret for me and my mother. An important secret. They protected us.”

“What kind of secret?”

It’s surprisingly hard to say it out loud. It’s going to be the first time I’ve ever admitted it to anyone. “I’m not a true daughter of the palisade,” I say. “I come from somewhere else.” I stumble to find the right words.

“I don’t understand. I looked you up in the data stream. Your mother is Sigma Wye. You were born in the Nest.”

“Yes, that’s true, but this isn’t where I was made. My mother never had the Procedure.”

Ghent’s eyes widen but he doesn’t interrupt.

“My mother was curious about what’s outside the walls.”

Ghent places a hand on my forearm. Somehow it steadies me. When I don’t continue he asks, “She went outside?”

I dip my head.

“So, you were created the natural way, the way men and women…” his voice trails off.

“Yes. In some ways, I have less right to be here than you.”

“You have every right to be here.” He lets go of my arm and grabs my shoulders, turning me to face him. “So your mother knows what’s outside the palisade? Can we ask her?”

“No, she’s at a retreat. You can’t afford to wait. I don’t know how long it will be before she comes back. Anyway, even if she knows anything, it probably won’t help. If she knew anything helpful, she would have reported it to the Elders long ago. We’d all know about it by now.”

Ghent digs his nails into the crate. “Okay, but I don’t understand what any of this has to do with the Temples.”

“They helped my mother hide the truth, falsified the data
stream, gave her contact lenses to hide my eyes.”

“So that explains it.”

He
had
noticed them before.

“But what about your true father?” he asks. “Where is he? Who is he?”

My eyes sting as I think about what happened to my mother outside the palisade all those years ago. Helpless and alone.

“I see,” Ghent says. He pats me awkwardly on my good knee before pulling away. “I’m so sorry. I can see now why you were so scared of me.”

“No, that’s not it. When I met you, I didn’t even know about him. I only found out after the Commander got to me.”

Ghent drops his head and speaks so softly it’s hard to make out his words. “I understand, Meg. I truly do. And I’m so, so sorry for what happened to you. But the fact that the Temples helped you, helped your mother, that doesn’t necessarily prove that I can trust them.”

I want to contradict him, but I know what he means. Helping women is one thing. Ma Temple was protecting my mother from what she saw as the monsters outside. That doesn’t mean she’d help protect a boy inside the walls, even if he hadn’t done anything wrong. I decide to approach the problem from another angle.

“Gamma and I have been friends forever,” I say. “We don’t have to involve her mother. Gamma can hack the datapad herself. She’s done it before. And even if you’re right about the Temples, remember I’m in this too now. I don’t want the Protectors to get to me any more than you do. We’re in this together.”

He leans forward and cradles his face in his hands. Then he presses his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “You know where I live. I can’t risk it. I can’t let you leave here without me. If they get to you, even if you don’t mean to tell them anything, they might get it out of you.”

I know he’s right, but the situation is impossible.

“You can’t come with me to see Gamma,” I say.

Ghent runs trembling fingers through his hair. Suddenly, he darts across to the bed, reaching for something under the mattress. I leap to my feet and watch him fossick until he pulls out a small device. He brushes it off with the hem of his shirt. It’s made of metal, not much bigger than the penny he showed me earlier, but thicker and slightly rounded on one side.

“What is that?” I ask.

“Transmitter. My mothers sometimes use it to get messages to me.”

Warnings, I realize, if someone is coming to their quarters. My heart cracks at the thought of how he’s had to live his whole life.

“Why didn’t Delta take it with her to the Clinic?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” Ghent flips the object over in his palm. “I guess she didn’t think of it when Epsie collapsed. She was too worried about her or she may have been worried someone would see it and ask questions.” He reaches under the mattress and pulls out a second object, similar in size and shape. He holds both of them out to me.

“This one’s the transmitter,” he explains, extending the one in his left hand. “The other is the receiver. It’s one way. You could talk to your friend. And I’d get the message through this. We wouldn’t have to stay together. But it has limited range. I’d still have to come with you part of the way.” Ghent is carefully examining the equipment, causing little bursts of static to punctuate his words.

“How close do you need to be for me to transmit?” I ask. “Perhaps I could sneak it into the Temples’ quarters from here? We must be nearby, right?”

“We’re on the same floor as the Temples, only a few doors down. But we can’t risk it. There’s too many Med-Techs around and we know at least some of them are working with the Protectors.” I cringe as I think about Rho Zee. Most of the Med-Techs live on this floor. I hunker down on the crate, feeling
suddenly exposed even though I know we’re relatively safe here. “And if you’re wrong about your friend. If she sounds the alarm…” Ghent doesn’t have to finish the sentence. There’s at least one Protector stationed in this very building, in my quarters, and she has a hotline to Commander Theta.

“I’ll have to catch Gamma when she’s not at home. Somewhere there won’t be Med-Techs or Protectors.” Suddenly it hits me. “The factory. I might be able to catch Gamma alone there, without anyone seeing me. She usually sneaks up to the storage room at some point during the day. And I know a back way in.”

“Will the transmitter work from, say, a hundred feet away?” I estimate the distance from the storage room to the hiding spot I have in mind.

“Probably.” Ghent rolls the device around in his palm. “What are you thinking?”

“There’s a loading bay out back with a shed that’s hardly ever used. You could hide there. It’s never locked so it shouldn’t be difficult for us to get in.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Yes.” I wish I could sound more confident, but this is the only plan I have.

“Alright then.” Ghent’s tone is all business now. “When’s Gamma’s next shift?”

“She should be back on the line tomorrow morning.” Daylight. That could be tricky. It’ll be harder to keep Ghent out of sight. “If you’re going to be hiding in the shed by the time her shift starts, we’ll have to plant you there tonight. What time is it?”

Ghent lifts an object from the top of the bookcase. An antique timepiece. It’s very elegant, with a worn leather band housing a gold circle covered with a shiny layer of glass. I’ve seen pictures of them before. They only tell the time and nothing else. They can’t be used to track people.

“It’s almost midnight,” Ghent says. “You must be exhausted.”

I’ve been running on adrenaline for so long I haven’t noticed how tired I am until he mentions it. I stifle a yawn.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? We have time” He indicates his mattress. “I’ll keep watch. We’ll be able to make it to the factory before dawn.”

Despite my exhaustion, I’m uncomfortable taking his bed. I’m not sure if I can sleep with him hovering nearby.

“Maybe we should take turns getting some rest?” I suggest. “You sleep first, and I’ll keep watch.”

He laughs out loud. I suppose he’s not too convinced about the idea of me guarding him. My cheeks flush.

“Oh, alright.” I give in. “You’re sure it’ll be safe?”

“I’ll be right here.” He pats the bedcovers. I sigh and move toward him as he straightens the sheets. When he moves, I slip my feet out of his mother’s shoes and climb under the covers. The bed is warm and soft, and the blankets smell of Ghent, oak and lavender. The soap from the bathroom I now realize. I nestle my head into the pillows as he scoops up an extra blanket from the foot of the bed and drapes it over me. The last thing he says before taking up his vigil is, “Sleep well, Meg.”