Part 15 (1/2)
The blonde girl said, ”There's a Hunter after them.”
”Really?” The leader-boy looked at us. ”Why is that?”
I opened my mouth to answer him, but before I could get any words out our guide pointed to me and said, ”This one claims her brother was s.n.a.t.c.hed by the Shadows. She wants to get him back.” His tone of voice made it clear how little chance he thought I had of succeeding.
The other boy nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed that information. ”I only know one person who ever got away from the Shadows,” he said. ”And it's rumored the cost of that was pretty high. You want to take a chance like that?”
”He's my brother,” I said stubbornly. Meanwhile I filed away the precious new fact he had just revealed: someone else had escaped the Shadows. If we found that person, could he tell us how to rescue Tommy? For the first time since we'd arrived in this G.o.dforsaken world I felt a ray of hope.
”They're from another world,” the blonde girl announced.
”Maybe,” our guide corrected her.
Children whispered in the shadows as the leader-boy digested all that. ”Well,” he said at last. ”That's quite an introduction.” He held out his hand in our direction, leaving us to decide who would take it first. ”I'm Ethan.”
It was Devon who reached forward and shook his hand, offering his name. Then Rita. Then me. You could feel this boy's confidence in his grip; I tried to return it in kind. After that, the group that had brought us to the Warrens all introduced themselves. Our guide was named Kurt, the redheaded boy who liked to spit was Ron, and the Asian-looking boy was Seth. The younger kids had taken on names from the animal kingdom: the boy who was Tommy's age called himself Hawk and the tough little blonde girl was Moth. Her tone was defiant when she introduced herself, as if she was daring us to ask for a more traditional name.
Others began to come out of the shadows as we spoke, some our age, most younger. In some cases much younger. Dirt and dim lighting had reduced their clothing to a uniform mud color, and most of the faces that stared at us in undisguised curiosity were layered in grime. They reminded me of the street urchins in Oliver Twist.
There seemed to be no adults around.
Now that we had been officially accepted into the Warrens, the youngest children cl.u.s.tered around us with undisguised curiosity, and they followed as Ethan led us through a shadowy archway at the far end of the chamber, into a large, irregularly shaped room. It looked like it had once been a control center of some kind, but with valves and levers in place of switches. Like something out of an old science fiction movie. Trinkets were strewn across every square inch of open surface, a crazy mix of items that seemed to have no common theme. Tidbits s.n.a.t.c.hed from the world above us, maybe? I saw china cups, bits of broken jewelry, ragged dolls, tarnished silverware. The place reminded me of a giant magpie's nest.
In the center of the floor was a circle of mismatched cus.h.i.+ons, all of them well-worn. Those who entered the room first claimed seats for themselves, leaving three cus.h.i.+ons for us on one side of the circle and one for Ethan across from us. My cus.h.i.+on was a colorless, shapeless thing that looked like it had come from the dusty attic of someone's grandmother, but it was comfortable, and after all that walking through slums and sewers I was glad to get off my feet.
When we'd all settled down on our cus.h.i.+ons and the children without seats had arranged themselves in a circle around us, Ethan said, ”Tell us about your world.”
That was the last thing I wanted to begin with-I was so anxious to get more information about the person who had escaped from the Shadows that I could barely sit still-but it was clear that if we wanted to get information from these people, we were going to have to put down a deposit first. So Rita started telling them about our home world. But soon it became clear from the questions the children asked that for all their casual talk of ”other worlds,” they envisioned our Earth-Terra Colonna-as nothing more than an exotic foreign country. Further away than Europe perhaps, but no more alien to their understanding than the town next door. The concept that there might actually be two different versions of the same Earth inhabiting the same s.p.a.ce wasn't even in their lexicon. As for the mysterious Gate . . . yes, that seemed magical to them, but it was a kind of magic they were used to. There were people with Gifts who could do all sorts of things like that, they informed us.
I was dying to learn more about those Gifts, but it wasn't our turn to ask questions yet.
Eventually it became clear that what these children really wanted from us wasn't scientific information as much as simple entertainment. So Rita started telling them adventure stories set in our world, and she kept them enthralled that way for a good hour or two. They probably would have demanded she go on like that forever if she hadn't started inserting long, boring descriptions. It was a brilliant strategy, and it soon bore fruit. One by one most of the youngest kids either fell asleep or wandered off, until all that remained in the magpie room was a small group of older teens, and the team that first found us.
Then it was our turn.
I wanted to start by asking about Gifts right off, but Devon wanted to know about the Guilds, and he talked louder and faster, so he won. As it turned out, the two things were connected, Gifts being mental powers that came in a number of distinct varieties, while the Guilds were organizations that trained and protected the Gifted, one Guild for each specialization. Since they controlled the most powerful people in this world, they also controlled most of its commerce, either directly or indirectly. Which meant that cities had to keep the Guilds happy if they wanted to prosper. Which meant that politicians needed to keep the Guilds happy, as did businessmen, law enforcement . . . you get the idea. Basically, if you p.i.s.sed off the Guilds in this world, you were seriously screwed.
So now the foraging team's reaction to Devon made sense. If these kids had been concerned that he might belong to a Guild, it was because that would make him an agent of the vast, Gift-driven network of authority that controlled their world-what folks back home called The Man.
Okay. It was starting to make sense now.
Ethan named some of the most powerful Guilds, and sure enough, the Guild of Shadows topped the list, followed by Seers, Weavers, Elementals, and a few scary-sounding ones like Soulriders and Fleshcrafters. Some of the names sounded like they came right out of one of Tommy's fantasy games, which made me miss my little brother even more. Then Devon described the weird grey aliens we'd seen, and Ethan said that yeah, those were the Greys. People called them that because their actual Guild name was a pain to p.r.o.nounce. Their Gift was sneaking around, so they did most of the Shadows' dirty work, and they inbred a lot to keep their Gift in-house.
Because true Gifts were so rare, Ethan told us, the Guilds were constantly on the lookout for children who had the seeds of power inside them. That's what the Seers were for; they could tell if a child had the potential to become Gifted, and if so, what form his Gift would likely take. Babies in this world were presented to the Seers soon after birth, and if a Gifted one was discovered it was taken from its family and adopted into one of the Guilds.
”Wait,” I interrupted. ”Don't the parents object to that?”
”Not if they're paid enough,” our former guide muttered. His tone was bitter.
Ethan nodded grimly. ”A Gifted baby can bring in enough money to raise a whole family up out of poverty.” And he went on to explain how some poor families would give birth to a slew of kids just to increase their chances of producing a Gifted one to sell. Which was a long shot, those being very rare, so the result was a lot of extra kids wandering around whom no one wanted. Meanwhile, any child born into a Guild family who had no discernible Gift was considered an embarra.s.sment and risked being abandoned. . . .
I didn't actually hear what Ethan said next. Because suddenly I grasped who and what our hosts were, and the revelation was so stunning-and so horrifying-that for a moment I couldn't hear anything at all.
All these children were rejects. Giftless kids who'd been abandoned when they were young, or maybe just so badly abused in the name of parental resentment that they'd run away from home. Some might have been children from lower-cla.s.s families who'd failed to manifest the one precious commodity that could lift their families out of poverty, so they'd been shoved aside to make room for their parents' next attempt at profitable reproduction. Others might have been upper-cla.s.s children who'd proven unworthy of their lineage, and were driven out to spare their relatives shame.
The revelation sickened me so much I didn't dare look into the eyes of any of them, for fear that they would think the horror in my expression was directed at them. What kind of a world was this, that would do such things to its children?
”Some are sold to the Shadows, to be used for the Gates,” Ethan continued, oblivious to my reaction. ”Others are sent to labor farms. A few are sent to other worlds-”
”Hold on,” Devon interrupted. ”What do you mean, sent to other worlds?”
”As replacements,” Ethan explained. ”When the Shadows steal a Gifted baby from another world, they leave an unGifted one in its place.”
I saw the look on Devon's face, and I suddenly remembered what he'd told me back at the IHOP, about the DNA orphan in Taiwan. There was stuff that should have been in any human DNA, that wasn't in his.
Suddenly my earthly ident.i.ty was falling to pieces, and there was nothing stable to hold on to. Was this the world we were originally from, Rita and Devon and I, and all the other ”DNA orphans”? Were these our real people? The concept was so insane that I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. But there was no denying the logic of it. Add this piece to the puzzle of our lives and everything fit together perfectly. That's why the genetic code of the Taiwanese orphan had been lacking the most basic human elements: he wasn't human. Neither were we.
”Why?” I whispered, trembling. ”Why would they do that? Why not just let people think the stolen babies had been lost, or kidnapped? It's not like anyone would guess why they were being taken. Why leave your own kids behind on an alien world-?” I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence aloud: so they would grow up ignorant of who and what they really were.
A voice from behind me said, ”Genetic investment.”
I twisted around to see who was talking. In a dark corner of the room a boy was tucked into the shadows, barely visible. His face was ghost-like in the darkness, his eyes so black they seemed to suck in the lamplight.
”Meaning what?” I demanded.
”Meaning that it helps keep foreign gene pools compatible with ours, so that when Gifted children appear in other spheres we can claim them.”
Rita glared at him. ”So it's like-what?-crop fertilization?”
It seemed to me that one corner of the boy's mouth twitched slightly, but whether that was a smile or a smirk I couldn't tell. ”That's the general idea, yes.”
Before I could find the words to respond to that bombsh.e.l.l he stepped back into the shadows, so that I could no longer see his face. I sensed a dark shape moving toward the exit, and an instant later he was gone.
”Seriously?” Rita demanded, turning back to our hosts. ”Is that how you all see us? Crops to be harvested?”
”Isaac's an aristo,” Kurt said apologetically. ”And yeah, that's how his kind sees our world. Everything in the universe exists for their benefit, human beings included.”
Ethan nodded bitterly. ”They claim the ones they want, use the rest for breeding experiments. Not only on other worlds. They breed their own children like livestock sometimes, trying to produce kids with particularly valuable Gifts.”
”So what's he doing here?” I demanded. ”I thought this was a refuge for-” I stopped myself just in time. For rejects, I'd almost said.
”He's fleeing an arranged marriage,” Ethan explained. ”It isn't the usual reason people come here, but it's good enough. He's our age, he's outcast, he pulls his weight on foraging expeditions . . . maybe he's not always as diplomatic as he could be, but who is?” He shot a warning look at Kurt. ”He had a formal education, which is more than most of us can claim. It's useful sometimes. So if you want more detailed information about the Shadows or the Gates, or anything else, you might want to talk to him.”
”a.s.suming he'll talk to you,” Kurt muttered. ”Not exactly the friendliest guy in town.”
I asked, ”Is he the one who escaped from the Shadows?”
Ethan shook his head. ”No, that's the Green Man. We can put out a call for him if you want, but there's no telling if he'll answer it. He comes and goes as he pleases.”
”If he hears there are visitors from another world he'll come,” Kurt said.