Swans and Klons (16 page)

Branknor kept interrupting Rubric. “Rooobric, do a puzzle! Yes. Rooobric, do a puzzle with meee!” He’d wave a piece at her until she came over to help him.

The way he said her name was actually kind of cute. He was far from the most horrific Cretinous Male in town. Others were more craggy and hairy than he was. When she’d first laid eyes on him, he seemed ageless. But now she knew he was actually only nineteen. His skin was smoother than older Cretinous Males, and he didn’t have a beard, only peach fuzz.

She kept helping him finish the puzzle, but then he would dump the pieces out in his lap and start again. Finally, she abandoned her own puzzle and crouched by the side of his chair. If she gave him the puzzle with just one piece missing, he could slot it in the right place with his pale, slow hands. He could do it if she removed two pieces. But if three were gone, he didn’t even try; he just thrust it at her and said, “Do a puzzle, Roooobric!”

“No, no,” she said. “You have to do it. I’m tired of doing it for you.”

They went back and forth like this for what seemed like forever. Then, finally, Branknor picked up the pieces and began trying to fit them in. He seemed to have no sense that he had to orient the pieces correctly, that the picture on the puzzle should match what was on the wood, or even that the pieces had to go in the holes. But, through trial and error, he was able to slot the pieces in with satisfying clicks. When he had completed it, he laughed and said, “Branknor do a puzzle!” Then he dumped the pieces out again.

Rubric was moderately impressed. She hadn’t known he was capable of problem solving. Maybe he wasn’t as thicko as she’d thought. This time, she left out four pieces from the completed puzzle. The picture of the puzzle—a poorly drawn dog—began burning itself into her brain.

Salmon Jo came in when Branknor was up to solving five pieces. She got sucked into the puzzle game.

“Fill in the middle and give him the pieces on the edge,” she suggested. “Maybe that’s easier.” She sat down on the arm of the chair. “Move over, Branknor.”

Branknor could complete the puzzle with seven pieces missing by the time Theodorica came into the room.

“Look, Branknor can do a puzzle!” Salmon Jo said.

“Look, Branknor can do a puzzle,” Branknor affirmed.

“Half a puzzle,” Rubric amended.

Theodorica was full of admiration. “He’s been messing around with that thing for five years,” she said. “You girls are good teachers.”

“Pretty soon we’ll have him doing the laundry for you,” Salmon Jo joked.

Rubric didn’t think it was allowed to make fun of how cretinous Branknor was. He was so counterproductive with laundry that it was one of the few tasks Theodorica did without his “help.” But Theodorica must have thought it was an okay joke because she laughed like a maniac.

“I could make him a puzzle with fewer pieces,” Rubric offered. “One he could do on his own. And I’d make the pieces thicker.” Silently she added that she would put a nice picture on the puzzle, not like that cretinous-looking dog.

“That would be very thoughtful,” Theodorica said. “Girls, I have some wool overtunics for you. As a gift. It will be so terribly cold in your tent.”

In their terribly cold tent, Salmon Jo said, “I’m learning more about those boluses of medicine the Sons take. At first, I was so cynical after everything we’ve been through that I wondered if the medicine even helped, or if it only made the Sons worse, or if they might even be making their Sons more cretinous on purpose. But it’s all completely aboveboard, and it’s actually a really promising treatment. They’re taking these quaternary ammonium cations that have been biosynthesized from amino—”

“C’mon, Salmon Jo,” Rubric grumbled. She knew pretending to listen to Salmon Jo’s scientific rambling was part of being a good schatzie, but she was too miserable.

“Okay, sorry. How about this? I think the Sons are really fun.”

“They don’t bother me anymore,” Rubric admitted. “I don’t know about fun.”

“I really get it now, why they like having the Sons around the place. They’re very pure people. What you see is what you get. And even though they’re cretinous, they’re good at some things, but it’s unpredictable and they need a lot of coaching. I think Branknor understands more than he can express. He always knows how Theodorica is feeling, and she’s hard to read. All the emotional stuff is there.”

Salmon Jo seemed to be paying plenty of attention to the Cretinous Males and their emotions. Then why couldn’t she see how lonely and sad Rubric was?

“The Barbarous Ones have just bought into a mass delusion that Cretinous Males are really glam, just like we have our mass delusion about the Klons,” Rubric said.

“Maybe every place has their own delusion. But I think the one here is better, kinder. You know how before we left home I said I didn’t know what human was? I know now. The Sons taught me what it means to be a human being. Even if they’re sick or not brainy, they’re just as human as us. I think they make you learn more about yourself, and that’s why the Barbarous Ones think they’re such an asset.”

“You’re fitting right in here,” Rubric said acidly. “I bet you like the pregnancy thing too.”

“The pregnancy thing is interesting,” Salmon Jo said, ignoring Rubric’s tone. “It’s kind of amazing that the human body can naturally do all those things that are so hard to replicate in the Hatchery. Theodorica says giving birth is like going through the fence. It hurts, but afterward, you don’t remember the pain very well. But childbirth doesn’t cause seizures, and at the end of it you get a Hatchling.”

“Would you…you would never do that, would you?”

“I wouldn’t rule it out as completely out of the question, someday,” Salmon Jo said.

Rubric buried her head in her hands.

“I mean, if my schatzie wasn’t against it, which I’m assuming you would be, based on what you’re doing right now, if you were my schatzie…” Salmon Jo trailed off.

At this moment, the chances of being Salmon Jo’s schatzie in future years seemed low.

“But we’re going back,” Rubric reminded her. “Right?”

“Right.”

“When?”

Salmon Jo sighed. “I don’t know. I’m really scared of the fence. Of dying. Don’t tell Dream, but she didn’t do me any favors, grabbing my hand when we crossed the fence. I think that made us into kind of a circuit, and the current flowed through us more.”

“Really? You never told me that. Maybe when you go back, then, everything will be fine!”

“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe not. It’s not the kind of gamble I like to take with my life. I’m working on another way to cross the fence. I’ve got a project going. But it might take a while.”

“A while?” Rubric rolled her eyes, and then realized Salmon Jo couldn’t see her in the dark. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know!” shouted Salmon Jo. “Why are you being so mean?”

“Because you’re just pretending that we’re going back someday,” Rubric said. “You like it here. And we’ll just stay here longer and longer. And then someday you’ll say, oh, my project didn’t work out, sorry.”

Rubric heard Salmon Jo swallowing loudly, a sure sign she was crying, or about to.

“What else is it that you want me to do? I do like it here. And I don’t know what there is for us at home except getting captured and treatment. We were incredibly lucky. But the Doctors won’t stay bumblingly incompetent forever, if we keep stealing all their Klons and trying to topple Society. It’s safer for us here. The only thing that motivates me to want to go back is you.” Her voice cracked, and now she was crying. “I thought you were getting to like it here.”

“Aha, so you admit it! You’re trying to stall me here forever.”

“No,” said Salmon Jo. “Well, maybe, in a way. You’re getting used to the Sons, you’re fond of Branknor, you’re going to make him puzzles. I thought maybe you found something that was meaningful for you.”

“Good gravy! Just because I don’t hate Branknor doesn’t mean I want to live out my days surrounded by Cretinous Males. And making puzzles? You really think I can find meaning in my life making toys for drooling Sons when the Klons are still enslaved? I am miserable here!”

“It’s not like you’ve even tried to fit in,” Salmon Jo said. “Have you thought about me for one second? I’ve dreamed all my life about studying the Sons. This is my big opportunity, and you’re all ‘
Waah, waah,
I don’t like picking apples. Let’s go.’ You just have a bad attitude.”

Rubric was infuriated. “I don’t have to have a good attitude. I can’t believe I fell for your lies. ‘Don’t worry, Rubric, we’re leaving, I promise.’ You know what? If you like the Cretinous Males so much, live with them forever! Give birth to one! What do I care? I don’t need a schatzie who lies to me, and tries to manipulate me, and doesn’t care how I feel. Get out, go sleep in the house. Go sleep with Theodorica. Go sleep with Branknor!”

Salmon Jo unzipped the tent and left without a word. Alone in the tent, Rubric cried herself to sleep. She shivered all night, from cold and from sadness.

The next morning, Dream came to visit Rubric. She told her she was going back home to free more Klons.

“People are too complacent,” Dream said. “They like to talk about rebellion while sitting in their rocking chairs by the fire. It’s nice here, but I can’t sit around doing sweet scheiss nothing. Prospect doesn’t want to go. But I told her I won’t be gone long. It’ll just be a quick trip, in and out. Help some Klons out, and be back before she knows it. A little raid. You want to come?”

“Yes,” Rubric said. “I’m like you. I can’t stand by while this is going on. Someone’s got to do something.”

And that was the way Rubric sold it to Salmon Jo. Her burning desire to help others and end slavery. It was hard for Salmon Jo to argue with such lofty motives. But Rubric didn’t even believe herself. If she looked inside her heart, was she really that noble? Maybe she just had a burning desire to get out of the Land of the Barbarous Ones, and never come back.

Chapter Twenty-three

It was just dawn, and everything was bathed in an unreal light. As much as Rubric hated the fence and the Land of the Barbarous Ones, she had to admit the desert surrounding the fence was beautiful. The black silhouette of the wall beyond the fence was melting into reds and yellows as the sunlight touched it.

“I’ll be back so soon,” Rubric promised for the millionth time. “Don’t worry.”

Salmon Jo didn’t say anything. They had said everything, over and over again. They held each other tightly, kissing tenderly, deeply. Rubric threaded her fingers through Salmon Jo’s coarse hair, caressing her head. She wanted this good-bye kiss to be enough, but it could never be enough. How could saying good-bye to Salmon Jo ever feel complete and acceptable?

Rubric and Salmon Jo had formally made up after their fight. But there was still a wedge between them. It was the only thing that made it possible for Rubric to leave her. Maybe if Salmon Jo had objected more strenuously, Rubric would have stayed. But Salmon Jo had accepted her decision meekly.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t build that rubber suit to cross the fence in,” Salmon Jo said finally.

“It’s okay,” Rubric said, stroking her earlobe. “You shouldn’t come. I don’t want you to have a seizure and die.”

Nearby, Dream and Prospect were embracing and murmuring their own farewells.

She couldn’t tell Salmon Jo this, but Rubric was looking forward to having adventures. She was proud of being one of the only ones willing to actually do anything about Society. And, of course, she was delighted to leave the Land of the Barbarous Ones.

“I could camp here and wait for you,” Salmon Jo suggested.

“Don’t do that,” Rubric said. “We could cross the fence anywhere. It might not be at Lvodz.”

Saying the last good-bye was the hardest part. Rubric kissed her favorite spot on Salmon Jo’s neck.

The next hardest part was running through the fence. Knowing what it would be like didn’t help much. Once again, every muscle, sinew, and bone in her body quivered in pain as she ran through the invisible fence. Her blood felt like it was sizzling, and her heart stuttered.

The third hardest part was the wall. This time, they had grappling hooks and a real rope ladder. But there was no Salmon Jo to help. It took them a long time to get over the wall. On the top of the wall, Rubric stood and waved both arms to Salmon Jo. Then Rubric felt light-headed, so she quickly jumped down.

The electric bikes were waiting right where they’d left them. The battery case had cracked on one, so they shared the other. They had planned this trip as carefully as they could, and their Klon-freeing mission had three parts. The first stop was just outside Iron City at a factory that processed eth fruits into ethanol. The Klon they planned to free was Salmon Jo’s Jeepie Similar, just as they had freed Dream, who was Rubric’s Jeepie Similar. It helped Rubric to justify the trip to herself.

The whole ride to Iron City, Rubric had a ringing in her ears from going through the fence. Mercifully, it had stopped by the time they reached the bike parking lot of the ethanol factory. They wheeled the bike over to a charging station and plugged it in.

“What does this Klon do here again?” Rubric asked. She was feeling confident. It felt good to be back in Society, even as a fugitive.

“She cleans up the waste product that the factory generates,” Dream said. “Shoveling sludge into bins.”

“It makes no sense that they would give someone of Salmon Jo’s Jeepie Type that assignment,” Rubric said, smacking down the sticky kickstand on the e-bike. “Anyone can do that job. Why would you utilize someone with so much brains for that?”

Dream shook her head. “You still don’t understand how it is. They don’t want to use a Klon’s brain. The smarter they are, the more likely they’ll be stuck off doing something soul-crushing and menial.” She smiled. “C’mon, let’s go. I’m ready to impersonate a Panna.”

The factory’s front office was incredibly busy, Klons racing back and forth waving screens and shouting. But, of course, they made time for a couple of Pannas. Rubric and Dream played cute with the Kapo Klon.

“We’re doing a report on eth fruits for academy!” Dream said, tilting her head to the side in a fetching way. To Rubric’s critical eye, Dream was overdoing her imitation of a pampered, mindless human. But the Klon seemed besotted.