Summer Ruins (37 page)

“What is this place?” I whisper as Pax leads us through the yawning chasm in the front of the building and to the intact right side.

“Don’t know what it used to be, but now it’s a place with a good vantage point of the Summer Celebration.” Deshi smiles, and he looks better than he has in a few days. More sure of himself, somehow.

At the top of six flights of rickety stairs, we enter a room with a high ceiling and another wide hole in the wall that used to house an impressive window, most likely. Evidence of our scouts’ intrusion blinks everywhere, from the discarded blankets to food wrappers and water bottles.

Pax and Deshi flop on their bellies on one of the blankets, the sound of crunching glass beneath their bodies loud in the silence, and peer toward what must be the site of the Summer Celebration. Lucas kneels on the second blanket, and when he motions me down beside him, I join them.

Far below and to the south, bright tents pop up from the ground. Their canopies are white with vibrant red strips, and smaller ones line the perimeter of a cleared expanse of grass and intact concrete. I’ve been told for years about the tents, of the food and fortune-tellers and games that make the Summer Celebration the highlight of everyone’s year but mine.

I don’t recall anyone mentioning the skeletal remains of a group of hulking metal machines in the center of it all. The highest is a giant wheel standing upright like a rusted sentinel, little cages suspended from the spokes. Smaller machinery surrounds it, all twisted and rusted, indefinable but creepy, the way the Observatory Pod felt to me the first time the Others took me there. They seem alive, somehow, as though their metal bones will screech and creak to life any moment, reaching out to devour unsuspecting humans who wander too close to that weathered graveyard.

All the way at the back, toward us, are a single black tent and a large communication device. An expanse of seats faces it, too many rows to count. That must be where they run movies or videos for the attendees. On the opposite side of the unused metal equipment sit two large tents, white with black stripes instead of red.

“Now that I’ve seen it, can you guys tell me what goes on here?” I want to understand what I’m looking at so the logistics of the next few days make more sense.

Pax doesn’t take his eyes off the ground below while he explains. “The red-and-white tents are where everyone stays unless the Others tell you to move. There’s food like you’ve never tasted—tons of sugar, stuff fried in grease—things they don’t let us have most of the time. And there are games in some of the tents, like tossing rings onto bottles or grabbing apples out of tanks of water with your hands tied behind your back. You get the idea.”

Deshi picks up where Pax left off. “On the screen at the back they show a video about how the Others came to Earth and the people welcomed them. It’s about how terrible things were before, how their greater knowledge and technology saved us from destroying our own planet and annihilating our species. Basically what they teach you in Primer Cell but more intense.”

I’ve never seen that video. I wonder if it would have made a difference all these years spent wondering how things were before—if I would have believed the story the Others are telling. “What’s in the black-striped tents?”

“None of us has ever been in them, but we think it’s where they purge doldrums for the people on the summer purge rotation. They’re big enough to hold several cots at a time plus the mind-mapping equipment they need,” Lucas says, pointing as he shares his thoughts.

The reminder of the purging and the purge schedule zips shivers down my spine. The mental image of the Others hooking up people’s brains to machines, of the silvery hats that changed Mr. Morgan’s and the Healer’s memories the night Mrs. Morgan Broke, makes it worse. It’s how the Others keep everyone from Breaking due to the emotions trapped behind their veils—they use the machines to drain all of the happy, the sad, the mad feelings that have built up over the past year.

Humans would go banana balls without the purging, and according to Cadi many did, but it’s still horrible.

“What about that little all-black tent off to the side?”

“We don’t know. None of us have seen it before.” Pax picks up an object, something black and plastic, and puts it to his eyes. “Maybe it’s where they keep their own equipment.”

“And their cache of praseodymium,” Deshi adds.

“What is that thing?” I ask Pax, who’s staring down at the mysterious black tent through the weird contraption.

“They’re like glasses, sort of, but they make everything closer.” Lucas chuckles. “We’ve had a heck of a time convincing Christian not to take them apart to see how they work, but we knew they’d come in handy once the Others arrived.”

“Found them in a different part of the science building—biology,” Pax says, handing them over.

Once they’re settled over my eyes, the scene below rushes so close I feel as though I could reach out and touch the tops of the striped tents. Breath catches in my throat when the first Warden comes into view, carrying a crate from an idling rider and ducking into the nearest tent. I scan the area and find it swarming with tan-and-black uniforms, all hauling paraphernalia here and there, intent on their duties.

I sweep up toward the black-and-white striped tents and spot several white-clad Others, like the ones who are trained in refreshing. It looks as though the guys are right about the purging taking place inside those tents.

There isn’t any movement around the smaller black tent as long as I watch. After a few minutes I tire of holding the contraption to my face and pass it to Lucas. “We need to figure out where they stay. I mean, that little black tent might be where they keep provisions during the Celebration, but they have to congregate elsewhere.”

Deshi and Pax shoot me strange looks. “No one sleeps during the Summer Celebration. It last three days, but you’re never tired,” Pax says, his brow furrowing. “I never thought about it before, but they must slip everyone something in the food to keep us awake.”

“How do you get here, though?”

“No one knows. You go to sleep the night before and then wake up in the middle of the smells and lights and music. Same thing when it’s over. You’re playing a game or stuffing your face, then everything goes shiny, like it’s raining—”

“Glitter,” Deshi finishes for Pax.

The Goblerts. Huh.

“Okay, so if they don’t rest the entire time, maybe that black tent is where—” I stop talking when Lucas sucks in a quick breath, the contraption hiding his eyes trained on the tent I was just talking about.

I scoot to the edge of the opening, sunshine falling on my face and hair, and squint to get a better look. Four riders have pulled up behind the mystery tent, and eight Wardens are out and opening the back hatches. They pull out marble cages like the ones we saw at the Underground Core, made of the same thick, power-blocking bars that had held us captive.

Inside are the Elements. I don’t know about the boys, but for the first time it hits me that whatever we decide—to banish the Others, to kill them, to let them suffer and die—will be our parents’ fate as well.

Chapter 35.

We watch the preparations for the rest of the day, talking softly on occasion but avoiding the topic foremost on my mind—if we should handle our parents differently than the rest of the Others. They’re still full-blooded Deasuprans and presumably still need the praseodymium as much as the rest.

The Elements might not have the same detrimental effect on the temperature and atmosphere, though, since they can regulate themselves using their powers, but we have no way of knowing for sure. I’ve been thinking about Deshi’s request that we discuss how to handle the expulsion of the Others before the moment arrives. There are two options, and neither of them sits terribly well with me.

First, if the reverse magnetocaloric effect works and incapacitates the Others by stopping the cooling process that takes place in their blood, as we’re hoping, we can take the opportunity to figure out how to kill them. They heal quickly, but I’m guessing if we hurt them to a point where they die faster than they heal, they won’t recover.

Or we could simply get them to surrender and agree to abandon Earth back to the humans. The problem with that is, of course, we’re simply dooming another planet to the fate we’ve been fighting so hard to overcome.

Even so, refusing to help them and killing them in cold blood are different things. But there are only two hundred-ish Others while there are uncounted galaxies of beings at risk, and that’s not even counting the thousands of people still waiting for salvation on Earth. If the right thing to do saves the most people, then the decision is made.

I just wish I didn’t have to be the one to make it, that’s all.

After the sun goes down around nine, we sneak back out of the half-building and through the dusky streets to the university, where we find most of our friends gathered in the common room. Lucas and Deshi go to clean up while Pax and I let everyone know what we found.

“They’re definitely here, setting up for the Summer Celebration. We found where they probably keep their cache of injections—in a smaller tent to the side of the festivities—and they aren’t guarding it.” Pax gives me a sidelong glance, and I shrug. “But the Elements are in there, too.”

“How are we going to sneak in and switch out the substances with the Elements watching?” Sophie wonders aloud.

“Well, they’re caged.” They all watch me carefully, probably wondering if I’ll feel sorry for my imprisoned mother. “This is a group effort now, and we’re not going to make a decision without everyone’s input, but the four of us believe the Elements are on our side.”

“Even if they realize what you’re doing is going to maybe kill them, too?” Katie lifts her manicured eyebrows.

Different responses wrestle in the back of my mind: that our parents would want us to survive, that they can’t do anything to stop us since they’re locked up, or that the praseodymium might not affect them the same way it does the rest of the Others. In the end, none of those is 100 percent true or a sure thing, so I stay silent.

Pax must be struggling with a similar issue, because he just shrugs. “There’s no point in overthinking it right now. After we hear from Griffin and Greer tonight, we’ll know more about what kind of preparations we’ll need to make.”

That seems to placate everyone, at least enough to staunch any further questions. Pax and I head upstairs to get cleaned up before the Sidhe show up with either good or bad news.

The worst would be, of course, if they don’t show up at all.

I’ve hardly allowed myself to think about the possibility of losing them and our chance at testing the altered element before the Celebration begins. They’re resourceful and smart, and they know how much this means. Even if they can’t accomplish the test, they’re not going to get caught.

Pax pulls me to a stop in the deserted hallway. “What do you think about what Deshi asked the other night?”

It takes my brain a second to switch from worrying about the Sidhe to finding the answer to his sudden question, even if I have been struggling with it off and on for days. Having a life—even the life of an Other—in my hands makes me sick. “I don’t know. There’s no good answer, is there?”

His olive features darken, and he rakes a hand through his too-long hair. “Yes. They’re killing four innocent people every day. They’ve killed thousands more over the past twenty years, and that’s just on Earth.” He pins me against the white plaster of the wall with an intense look. “We can’t let them do this again. You, me, and Winter have to agree, to be united before Deshi tries to change our minds. His time with them clouded his judgment.”

My heart aches for Deshi, even as my brain agrees with Pax. But then Nat’s face floats behind my eyes and doubt creeps in. “I don’t know, Pax. I don’t know what’s right. But think about this—the Others aren’t killing four innocent people a day. The
Prime Other
is doing that to accomplish a very specific goal. What about Nat? If even a few of the Others are like him—with their own ideas and beliefs but are unable to break free from the Prime’s control—do they deserve to die?”

Brief uncertainty flickers across his handsome features before they harden into stone. “We can’t think like that, Summer. We can’t feel sorry for them.”

“I don’t feel sorry for them, Pax. I’m just saying I’m not sure I want to live the rest of my life, providing we get to have one, with the weight of the annihilation of a race on my head. If there’s another way, we should try to find it.” I reach out and squeeze the tense muscles in his forearm. “We’re better than them.”

He sighs, putting a hand over mine and holding on tight. “I don’t know. I want to believe that. I’m just so angry.”

Concern over the hardness on his face and in his eyes twists my heart. I had thought spending time with Leah was helping lift his burden, but it’s been worse for all of us since the Goblert’s daily visits began. “What does Lucas think? Have you talked to him?”

“No. We haven’t been alone.”