MiNRS (12 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Illumination

One of the grinders didn’t
make it. The boy I’d seen looking so listless. I’d hoped the food and water I’d left behind would help him recover.

Mandeep had come with us and hurried to help him. She tried pounding his chest and giving him mouth-to-mouth, but it was too late. She looked at me, shook her head sadly, and covered him with a jumpsuit.

She examined the other grinders. There were now only four left alive. Fatima, another girl, and two boys. They were all too weak to even say their names.

Elena used her borer to drill a hole into the floor beside the cage. That left a pile of ground stone. She
placed the body inside the hole and then used the rubble to fill the hole back up.

Elena took back the jumpsuit. She didn’t say anything during the whole process, and silently handed Pavel the jumpsuit as she walked back toward her digger.

“We’ll need it more than he does,” Pavel said.

I wanted to punch him, punch him so hard his helmet would fly off. The fact that he was right didn’t help me feel any better.

I walked over to the new grave.

I closed my eyes and said what I guess you could call a prayer. To whom and for what, I had no idea. It just felt like something should be said to recognize that this grinder had been a boy and had been alive. That counted for something. If it didn’t, we might as well just surrender to the Landers right now.

Maria discovered a break room with some food and water a little farther down the tunnel. If the cage hadn’t been locked, it would have been a five-minute walk for the grinders. We grabbed as much as we could. Then we fired up our diggers, shut off our microphones, and followed the coordinates back to the camp in silence.

Finn and Darcy had stayed behind with Alek to prep beds for the grinders, but Alek ran away as soon as he saw the injured grinders being lifted out of the cockpits.
I wanted to follow him, but Mandeep waved me over to help.

•   •   •

“Those kids smell,” Darcy said as we laid the last of the kids on the cots. It was true. They had been trapped in cages with only a couple of buckets for a bathroom, and no running water. We’d at least been able to do some washing.

“I know. We’ll help them clean up.”

“Friendly thinks they’re a little scary,” she whispered.

“Well, they need our help. They are part of our family now.” I said the last part louder, hoping everyone would hear.

I knew we needed to go over our plans, maybe even clear the air, but I just couldn’t stomach talking to the others again. Elena’s suggestion had gotten everyone to save the grinders, but had she been serious? I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.

I had an inkling that the ground rules had changed at that meeting, that Elena, if she wanted, could take over control of the group. Did she want to do that? I wasn’t sure I wanted to find that out either.

I walked from the sleeping quarters, nodding to Finn and Maria who were on guard duty, back to the makeshift infirmary, which we set up a distance away down the tunnel.

Jimmi and Pavel had pulled out some cards and were playing a game, but they ignored me as I walked past. Fine. We’d deal with it tomorrow.

•   •   •

Mandeep was checking on the grinders, even chatting with the ones who were recovering faster. I caught the names—Julio, a quiet kid named Nazeem, and Therese—as Mandeep introduced herself and talked to them about treatment. Only Julio seemed well enough to answer. Nazeem occasionally nodded but said nothing. Therese was hooked up to an IV and didn’t move.

Elena was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she’d gone to find Alek.

As I continued down the tunnel, I ran through the day again. Did Jimmi and Pavel and others have a point? Should we have left the grinders to fend for themselves? We were low on supplies. How would we survive with so many more people to feed?

I wondered what my parents would have done, but thinking of them made me angry. They had known about the grinders. They had known and done nothing. How could they have done nothing for kids?

Their copy of
Oliver Twist
was still in my backpack. The book had been helping me settle down each night. Now it seemed like a horrible relic of a happier but
fake past, burning a hole in my back. I wouldn’t read it again.

The irony of my parents giving the book as a gift for my birth, the birth of their only child . . . I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I thought of my parents hugging me, teaching me, reading me books. My parents, telling me that we were on a Great Mission to save humanity while using kids as mining machines. Didn’t they even read
Oliver Twist
before they gave it to me?

“You okay, rich boy?”

I jumped in surprise, then looked down.

Fatima was lying on her bed, propped up on a pile of uniforms, her eyes open.

I’d been so lost in thought, I’d almost stepped on her.

“Sorry. Just a little exhausted.”

“You look rattled.”

“I’m that, too. You’re bouncing back.” She was. Her eyes were alert, her lips weren’t cracked anymore, and there was even some color in her cheeks.

“You don’t live in a mine your whole life without a strong constitution. Weakness is a death sentence.”

“The young boy didn’t make it,” I said, lowering my head.

“Thomas. He was so small. He never adjusted to the
travel from Earth or to the life here. I think he was homesick.”

“I’m so sorry for what my family did to you, to all of you. For using you all like that. It’s not right.”

Fatima just stared straight ahead. “So, now that you all know we’re here, what are you going to do about us?”

“There’s actually a bit of a debate about that right now.”

She nodded. “It’s always like that. There was even some debate in the cage about who should get what and when. Who should risk their lives trying to escape. People chose sides, or tried to until I came up with the plan to get the warning signals. It was not pretty.”

“I told everyone that you are part of our family now.”

She scoffed. “They didn’t believe you, not all of them. I can see the looks in their eyes when they watch us. And who says we want to be part of your family?”

“Well, don’t you think we can help you?”

Fatima looked at me with one eyebrow raised. She lifted her hands and held them out like the trays on a balance. “Let’s see. Over here”—she wiggled her left hand—“there are four kids who know the mines like the back of their hands and have survived underground for years. And over here”—she wiggled her right hand—“a bunch of little spoiled brats running around, who’ve lucked out
for a couple of weeks.” She let her left hand drop to the sheets. “I’ll go with this one: it’s got more weight.”

Fatima folded her arms on her chest and smirked. “Oh, I know you want me to be grateful that you saved us. It helps quiet your guilt.”

I just stared at my feet.

She gave a small laugh. “I don’t mean to be so mean. I am grateful. But I’m not going to bow down and serve you or anybody ever again.”

“Don’t you think we all have a better chance together?”

Fatima stared at me for a good minute, pursing her lips.

“Let’s say we could work together, get along, share the food. That keeps us alive in the same way a rat in a sewer is alive. But you and I both know that we’ll have to fight the Landers in the end. That bald kid who likes to pretend she’s a soldier knows it too.”

“Elena,” I said quietly.

Fatima nodded. “And if it comes to a battle with the Landers, who gets the diggers and who has to fight bare-handed? Who gets used as cannon fodder?”

I looked at her, shocked.

She smiled and pointed to her ears. “You get used to listening for the smallest sounds down here. A trickle of water could mean a giant cave-in is coming. A distant
echo off a tunnel wall could signal a digger coming straight for you.”

“I don’t think Elena meant it. I think she was trying to convince the others to move, to help.”

“Maybe.” Fatima nodded. “They did rescue us in the end. And that Mandeep seems very nice. Finn and Darcy, too. They gave me this.” She held up a small cat, made from a tuna can. The edges had been filed smooth. “I like it. I’ve always wanted a cat. Once the others are healthy, we’ll discuss whether we should save your butts, or not.”

I nodded.

“Do you have any idea who the Landers are?” she asked.

“No. I know they are here for the ore. I know they are murderers.”

Fatima stared at me. “You’re quick to judge.”

“How can I not? They killed everybody they saw. They’ll kill us if they want to. Elena thinks we should kill them first. She might be right.”

“Maybe they are desperate, and that’s why they attacked.”

“Isn’t everybody desperate? That’s why we’re all up here, to save everyone back home.”

“Maybe these Landers come from someplace poor.
Maybe they worry that Melming, and the rich nations of the world, despite their promises, won’t be as willing to share? Have these Landers been corrupted by fear? Or greed? Or both?”

“You sound like my father,” I said. “He was always suggesting something wasn’t right with the setup of the mines, maybe with the world. He and my mom would get these looks sometimes. I thought he was just a worrier. Now, finding you, I know there was a lot more to it.”

“Maybe he was uncomfortable with the arrangement. Not that he turned down the money,” she added quietly.

That stung, because it was exactly what I’d been thinking. “Neither did my mom.”

We sat in silence for a while.

“Do you hate me?” I asked.

“I don’t hate. Hate does no good. I don’t even hate Melming Mining.”

“‘We are what makes the Great Mission Great,’” I said bitterly.

Fatima took a deep breath. “Back in the digger I told you my parents sold me. They made a horrible choice. But they made that choice because they needed money, they needed to shed a hungry mouth from a large family. I don’t forgive them, but I don’t condemn them. If I
hate anything, I hate a world that makes people make that choice.” She yawned. “I need to sleep. Your shoulder is softer than these uniforms. Maybe I can rest my head on you again?”

I raised my eyebrows at her.

“I’m joking. But if you want to stay there for a bit, that’s fine with me. Something about you does make me feel safe.”

“Okay,” I said. I wasn’t sure what to do. Sit there, I guessed. I thought about the book in my backpack again. I thought about what Fatima had said about the world being gray. I’d started reading
Oliver Twist
to find out why it was so important to my parents. Maybe I needed to do that still.

I quietly slipped the backpack from my shoulder.

Fatima breathed softly beside me.

I pulled out the book. The flashlight fell out at the same time, and it dinged off the floor. Fatima stirred.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “Stupid broken flashlight. I should have thrown it out.”

Fatima looked at the flashlight and grabbed it suddenly.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, holding it up and flicking it on and off.

“My father. But it doesn’t work.”

She shook her head. “It works perfectly.”

“There’s no light.”

“It’s a different kind of flashlight.”

I must have looked confused.

“It’s not for illumination, but for finding hidden trails inside the crevices.”

“Oh,” I said, not entirely sure what she meant.

“We don’t have lights in those holes, like the miners do in the main tunnels. So when we blaze trails in the seam, we make dots on the walls with a special paint. It can only be seen using this kind of light.”

Fatima handed me the flashlight. “This is very old. The ones we use today are much smaller.” She pulled one out of her pocket and showed me. It was barely the size of a pinky finger. “Why did your father give this to you?”

I didn’t answer. My mind raced. Maybe there had been no physical map to lose after all?

Had my father left a trail of dots on the tunnel walls? Was I supposed to use the flashlight to find them and follow them? That could take forever.

No. My father had said there was a map in the backpack. He said I’d need the flashlight, but I’d assumed that meant I’d need a light to read in the tunnels.

I flipped the book open to the front cover and shone
the light on the page. There was nothing. I tried flipping through the book, from front to back, but still saw nothing.

“What should it look like?” I said, panicking.

“Purple. But it’s too bright in here. You need to be in the dark to see the markings.” She offered me one of her blankets.

I threw it over my head and hunched over the book to block even more of the light. I smiled. This was how I read most nights in my room. I could almost hear my mom telling me to go to sleep.

Nothing appeared on the first few pages. I kept turning. Then I saw it. A purple circle in the upper right corner of page four. The circle was around the page number. I scanned the rest of the page, but that was it. I turned page after page and found more markings, always around the page numbers.

Some pages had one circle around the page number, some two. Some had a box, and then some had an X through the page number.

In the end I had discovered a series of numbers. That was it. Nothing to tell me what they meant, or what sequence they represented, or didn’t. I grabbed my pen and scribbled down the numbers on the back cover.

Circled

4

15

38

56

Two circles

5

7

9

12

Xed

6

8

37

55

And surrounded by boxes—47, 283, and 371.

Obviously it was a code, but what kind of code?

I flipped through the book again. There was nothing else.

The first few page numbers weren’t even from the story itself but the introduction. Some pages mentioned parts of London; some didn’t mention anything at all.