The Unspoken: Book One in the Keres Trilogy (3 page)

“
We were only confirming that The Mothers choose who is a boy and who is a girl,
”
snapped Harc from my left.

Without warning, The Mother reached out and slapped Harc hard across the cheek. I felt the air push by my face as if she were slapping me
too.

The Mother gasped and put her hands to her cheeks with a sickening mock face of regret,
“
Oh! See now what your words have made me do? You
’
ve made me hurt someone I love!
”

Merit was on his feet immediately, hands clenched into fists. Wex and Frehn were standing an instant later, I think more to remind Merit of where he was than to aid in his fury against The Mother. Doe started applying her handkerchief to the deep cut on Harc
’
s cheek made by one of The Mother
’
s spiked rings. No one was watching me. No one saw the rage that boiled over inside me, spilling out of my eyes in hot tears. No one noticed that I lurched to hurl myself forward at The Mother. Just before my fingernails could dig into The Mother
’
s eyes, Wex dove in front of me, his mouth on mine.

Wex and I were pried apart, all six of us locked into our separate rooms. Which was a blessing really. If The Mother had known I was going to attack her, I would have been killed on the spot. And probably my entire Play Group with me.

My first kiss saved my, our, lives.

I
’
m sure there was great debate on our punishment among The Mothers. I was left alone in my room for ten days, the only sign of life the oat mash and water which appeared twice daily in the little passthrough by the door. On the tenth day, our televisions lit up and our punishment announced to the entire city. Solace for 720 days. One day for each second of our rebellion, our two minutes with The Mother in her sitting room, times six. I would not see Wex or the others again until we were fifteen. To me it seemed like a lifetime.

Today is the 721st day of our Solace and 731 days from the last moment I saw PG3456. We celebrated our return by attending the Oath of Service festival where everyone in our year was assigned to a line of industry. I spent the last two years thinking, believing, our Play Group would be publicly dissolved during the Oath, leaving us to live out the rest of our lives in work and solitude.

From the moment we attended our first lecture in Traditions, PG3456 set our sights on serving side by side in Nutriment Cultivation. Being out of doors and free to walk among the crops or through the enormous open air kitchens was our primary goal, breathing in the clean air outside of the inner wall. We worked towards that goal in lectures and physical instructions. We bent our minds to show our teachers any traits that might be thought suited to the fields. No complaints from hard labor, building up a tolerance to sun and windburn by spending all of our free time outside with no regard for the weather. We volunteered to care for the flowers in the container gardens around the residence blocks and showed as much interest as we dared in the people who were already assigned to work the crops.

Now that we had been in Solace for two years, it seemed unlikely we would be assigned to anything but the mines and factories. My limited contact with other living things had been under observation and strict control. I continued hearing the Pedagogics lectures over the television in my room, and I assume the rest of PG3456 had as well. We would have to be reintroduced to life outside our rooms when this was over and education was essential to our usefulness to Chelon. But I had not been able to interact with the instructors.

The Mothers would certainly not have risked giving us so much freedom in the fields, not after our 720 second display of unified defiance. The fields are so widespread, we could have been off on our own for hours at a time with no supervision. I was certain I would be put in the factories because I am dextrous and have a quick mind. Those two traits would have kept my fingers out of the machines while I manufactured goods Chelon needs for trade with the other cities.

The night before the Oath, I dreamt of my seven year old self, of the day I tried to walk down a set of stairs backwards. My friends screamed as I tripped and rolled down two flights. Scooped up by the Healers and taken to their building, I felt no pain. Just a sense of foggy amazement that I was not dead.

While I was being looked over for broken bones, I heard the pains of birth from a room across the hall, then a joyous cry from a woman that quickly turned to an anguished sob as the baby was taken from her. There was a quick hurried sound to hush the woman as one of The Mothers came gliding down the hall in her lavender and white tunic to collect the newborn infant. She cooed and stroked the baby
’
s tiny fingers as she bustled off with it in her arms. We were all once that baby. And all the girls in Chelon would be that woman. Pain, brief joy, and then never ending agony. They will not permit us to have families.

Instead we are grouped in sets of six, three boys and three girls. When my Play Group was formed, people looked at us as the left overs. We had a wide swing in ages for a Play Group, ranging from just shy of 12 months to a matter of hours old. Even our assigned number was strange. The last group formed that day, we were PG3456. We were the first consecutive number set for 111 years, 1,111 Play Groups ago. Healer Fednum told me once that PG3456 was like a pack of wild dogs from the other side of the outer wall. Coarse and untamed from the beginning. Even our appearance was ragged compared to the Chelon standard. None of us wore the issued clothes as they were intended. But because we didn
’
t physically alter them, we weren
’
t breaking any rules. So we were left alone and allowed to ignore the opinions of others.

“
Keres?
”

My dreams, projected memories on the backs of my eyes, were coming in with sound. I must be deep into the Heavy tonight.

“
Keres?
”

No. That wasn
’
t in my memory. That wasn
’
t in my dream. That was on the other side of the room. I raised my head slightly to peer over the edge of my round bed. Eyes sweeping the room. No one. Exhausted from the effort, I fell back into the sheets.

“
Keres, it
’
s me. Wex.
”

Wex. Where are you now, Wex? Pain swept through me like poison, eating away at what little strength the soup had given me. I sank back down into my bed and gave into it.

On the backs of my eyes I saw us, all of us, in the fields running toward the horse barn. Jumping over crop rows and laughing when Frehn scoops up a handful of fresh greens to carry like a Banding Bouquet. We collapse by the stream at the back of the barn and dunk our heads in the cool water. The boys whip their heads back, causing arcs of water to fly through the air.

I catch Wex
’
s brown eyes on me while I wring the water from my own hair onto my bare feet. Already tall for thirteen, I take in Wex
’
s shoulders. They completely eclipse Merit
’
s entire body behind him. Frehn nudges me with his elbow and motions towards Doe, perched on the edge of the bank trying to pick a flower from the patch of grass in the center of the creek. Frehn jumps into the water, sending a huge wave over her. Before she has time to react, the flower is in her hand and Frehn is laughing as he kicks up the water, soaking us all.

I turned my head into the pillow and choked out my grief; the memory stabbed me deep. I wanted the Heavy to press me into the pillow, smothering out everything. I wanted to die there, that instant. Darkness crept over me and I heard his voice again. Deeper, stronger than I last heard it two years ago. But it was Wex
’
s voice.

“
In the vent. Keres!
”

Instantly, I was at the ventilation entry point in the back of my room without knowing how I got there.

“
Wex?!
”
my voice caught in my throat.

“
Yes, keep your voice down. We can talk while the air is blowing without anyone overhearing but you must keep your voice low. We only have a few seconds left.
”

“
Wex.
”
Wex. Hexes on the Absolute Mothers, it was Wex.

“
Listen to me, tomorrow when we are assigned to Services, we must pay attention to where everyone goes, even those outside of PG3456. We have a plan, Keres. To leave Chelon.
”

Like pulling my head out of water, I am brought back to the here and now. My memories are yanked away from me and I am left standing in the silk and satin robes of ceremony, disoriented and unnerved. The novice has guided us off stage to a room just inside the north residence compound. She is trying to group us by service so we can receive the appropriate uniform tickets. I stand alone, willing myself to stay upright. The weight of the robes seems to have doubled since they were put on me before dawn. I want to scream and frantically knock the black diamond out of my hair, as if it
’
s a spider.

Someone places two thin metal squares in my hands and moves on quickly. I don
’
t look down. I know one is the ticket I will present at the clothier counter and the other is my new schedule. I can feel myself swaying, pushed by the black smoke fingers. Not yet, I repeat over and over. Not. Yet. I cannot give into the despondency of the Heavy until I am safe in my room. I have to get out of these robes and take this makeup off my face. I am unbearably hot.

The Mother who led the Oath finally dismisses us with cheery instructions to use this rare free afternoon to gather our uniforms and check in with our Service Leaders before the feast tonight. We begin training at 08:00 tomorrow. Doe and Harc are at my elbows, guiding me out of the room. Merit whispers through slightly parted lips and clenched teeth directly behind me, instructing me to walk quietly until we are changed and can meet together in our common room. I blink at the idea. Meet in our common room. Together and alone. Impossible.

Somehow I make it to my room where a novice waits to help me undress and wash off the makeup. Apparently it takes four Mothers to dress me up but only one in training to get me back to normal. She packs the robes neatly away in a crate and slips out of the room, closing the door behind her.

I walk to the door, place my hand on the knob and hold my breath. The latch clicks open. I close it and open it again, looking out into the common room as I used to a thousand times, a lifetime ago. My door is unlocked. With no announcement, no instructions, no new rules, Solace is over. I want an explanation, I want someone to tell me what my new normal is. An unlocked door, finding myself still in the same block with PG3456 seems anticlimactic. It feels like a trap.

Realizing I
’
m standing in my doorway with nothing on but the thin dressing robe the novice draped over me, I close the door again and move across the room slowly. It feels foreign to move this much. In the closet I find the assigned allotment of clothes for my fifteenth year. I vaguely remember the day they were brought in by The Mothers, as I was unable to join the others in the annual trade out. How I ached for these clothes three years ago. They seemed so grownup to me then. Careful to choose items that were intended to go together rather than an outfit I would have created two years ago, I get dressed. When I look in the long mirror I don
’
t recognize myself. The goddess who was reflected back this morning has been replaced by a young woman, neat and presentable if a little too thin, dressed in dark brown pants, white shirt and flat leather shoes. A young woman who looks a little like me about the eyes with a black diamond pin over her left ear. "Who are you?" I can
’
t help asking the reflection. The girl in the mirror has a massive amount of black hair I don
’
t remember having and her chin is razor sharp. The only thing recognizable in the reflection are my blue eyes.