Part 2 (2/2)
”Yeah,” I said, but I felt defensive again. Sure, I had thoughts about my mom leaving, got angry about it sometimes, but I didn't like the idea that Paul might be judging her. Then again, maybe he wasn't. His tone was so flat, and I couldn't tell what he meant without seeing his full expression.
We both sat there for a second. ”Challenging living out there at Hub,” Paul offered.
”I guess,” I said, really not wanting to talk anymore. Maybe he was right, though. I thought about life back home. Living in an apartment in the cave complex, the fluorescent lights dimming every hour as the geothermal charge faded. School was fine, pretty normal, but only compared to what I knew. Lots of kids had asthma due to the fumes, but I actually didn't. I hadn't really considered my life and family to be that bad, but I guess it was, compared to things here.
Paul clapped his hands together in a sharp, flat smack that echoed in the room. ”Well, Owen, these are all good reasons to finally have you here. You are exactly why I started running the drawings to invite kids from outside EdenWest to be a part of our camp.”
”Thanks,” I said, but my defensive feeling only grew. I didn't like being one of the charity cases, the poor wastelander being given a golden chance.
”No, thank you you,” he said, his tone level, almost like he was being sarcastic, except I figured he wouldn't be. ”Now listen,” he continued, ”it may not seem this way right now, but your time at Camp Eden can really be life-changing. In fact, in your case, I'd go so far as to guarantee it.” Another smile. With each one I felt more like I wanted to leave.
”Okay,” I said.
”So...” He shuffled the images on his desk. ”I've rea.s.signed you to Craft House for the electives hour. You'll be with some younger kids, but it will be fine. And I've noted exemptions in your file for any of the rituals that could pose a problem for you, like polar bear swim. We don't want you going out there and getting damaged.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. Polar bears? They'd been extinct for almost thirty years. Did Eden have one here? Maybe it had been in the Camp Eden brochure, but I hadn't really read that. And why was he talking about me like I was some prized piece of merchandise? Maybe he didn't mean it that way, but that was how it sounded.
”Well, that should do it.” Paul pressed his fingers together again. ”Dr. Maria noted that you're due back in for a follow-up, tomorrow.”
”Yeah.”
”In that case, you can head back to your cabin now.”
I nodded and stood. Paul did, too.
”Listen, Owen,” he said. ”I may be the director here, but I also want to be your friend. If there's anything you need, or anything you're concerned about, anything at all...” He stepped around the desk and over to me. ”You'll come to me first, won't you?”
”Um, sure,” I said, just trying to end the conversation.
”Especially,” said Paul, and then his voice lowered to almost a whisper, ”about these...” He reached out, his fingers extending toward the bandages on my neck. They grazed the fabric gently. The wounds seemed to ignite with simmering itching, and I flinched and stepped back.
”Sorry,” he said mildly, and I had no idea if he was, but his smile was its widest yet, like he wasn't actually sorry at all, and suddenly I needed to get out of there.
”I should go,” I said, and stepped toward the door and yanked it open, trying to stay calm but really wanting to run.
”Of course.” Paul didn't stop me. ”Owen?”
I turned to see him standing casually, hands in his pockets. ”Just remember, I've seen it all. The more you share with me, the more I can help.”
”Okay, um, thanks.” I hurried out.
Chapter 3
OUTSIDE, IT WAS EARLY EVENING. THE TEMPERATURE was balmy, the breeze like a soft hand. The moisture in the air made my skin feel sticky. It was still a strange feeling, but a relief compared to being with Paul. was balmy, the breeze like a soft hand. The moisture in the air made my skin feel sticky. It was still a strange feeling, but a relief compared to being with Paul.
The SafeSun lamps had been dimmed to orange, the SimClouds tinted purple. The wind had been turned down, and the insects were making a bunch of different sounds: drones and screeches and blips. Out at Hub, we only had the usual insects that could've cared less about the Great Rise, like ants and flies, and the c.o.c.kroaches that had adapted to become hand-sized so they could compete with the snakes for the rodent supply.
EdenWest was supposed to contain all the animals that used to live in this part of the country except for the mosquitoes and biting flies, which they'd thoughtfully not included. I was pa.s.sing tall bushes of purple flowers by the dining hall, ones that Todd had called rhododendrons, and I saw yellow-and-black bugs buzzing around. Bees. Actual bees. That made sense. You'd hear stories of how they had things like real honey in the Edens, just like they had up north in the HZ.
I stopped to watch them work, floating to a flower, then flicking their delicate leg structures and abdomens to gather pollen. It seemed so amazing that creatures like that, so small and complex, were the work of the same world that offered ma.s.sive things like oceans, or a Three-Year Fire, or even this soaring dome.
Something bounced on the air, closing in on the bush like it was being controlled by a puppeteer. I flinched, then saw that it was a b.u.t.terfly, another creature that was only memory out at Hub, and in most of the world. Its wings were powder blue and jewel green with black curling patterns. It flittered around the bush, like it was looking for a free flower. I stuck my arm out near it and the b.u.t.terfly wobbled, then landed right on the top of my wrist. I could barely feel its feet.
I moved it closer to my face to get a better look, its wings flicking up and down slowly, its feet readjusting so that it almost seemed to be looking right at me. It had a long, straight abdomen trailing behind it, two delicate antennae, and s.h.i.+ny eyes. Except, I saw that there was actually only one eye. And it wasn't even an eye.... It was a camera. Now I recognized a tiny humming sound, and clicks as the legs moved.
A robot.
Its tail was actually an antenna. I looked up at the lavender TruSky, and wondered if there was someone up there in the Eagle Eye who controlled this thing. It lifted off and fluttered away from me and the bush, not actually needing the flower nectar.
I started down the hill to the playing fields. The itching on my neck was acting up again, getting hotter. Despite Dr. Maria's warning, my fingers found the outside of the bandages and started rubbing softly. It helped a little.
The boys' cabins were on the south side of camp, in the woods between the playing fields and Mount Aasgard, which wasn't really a mountain like out West, but it was a high hill with a naked set of rock ledges at the summit that reached out and almost touched the curving dome wall. The granite sparkled in the pink sunset light.
I entered the pine trees, my sneakers scuffing along a wood-chip path. The forest was still except when I pa.s.sed near an air blower. A steady chord of insect noises hummed in the background, but I wondered now if that was real or instead broadcast from hidden speakers.
I reached the cl.u.s.ters of boys' cabins. The girls' cabins were on the other side of the fields, near the beach. Each cabin was named for an extinct creature, and I could hear the wild calls and thumps from mine, the Spotted Hyenas, before it was even in sight.
I got to the door and felt the usual flutter of nerves. I hated this place already, and I felt pretty sure that there was no way I was going to have the amazing transformation that Paul and Dr. Maria talked about.
I walked into the front room. Todd was lounging on his bed, the curved brim of his dirty white cap pulled low over his eyes. He was reading a paper book. Another part of the costume of this place.
”Hey, Owen, good to see you back,” he said. ”You feeling okay?”
”Fine.” I pa.s.sed him and walked through the doorway into our bunk room. There were wooden bunk beds built into the walls, a small window beside each bed. Another wall was lined with cubbies. Everyone was messing around, some kids playing dice on the wooden floor, others joking, some sitting, legs hanging off their perches. I headed straight for my bunk, which was in the far corner, by the side exit door.
I was just reaching the little ladder up to my bed when a balled-up, sour-smelling sock whipped past my head and smacked against the wall.
”Check it out: the Turtle lives!”
I looked over to see Leech staring down at me from his bunk, where he was leaning on his elbow, lounging like royalty, giving no indication that he'd just thrown the sock. Everybody stopped when they heard him and turned to look at me.
”We thought you were dead,” said Jalen, sounding disappointed.
I wanted to say something, but what? Leech was the undisputed ruler, there was no use fighting it. When we'd all first walked in, each dropping our bags onto our bare bed and sliding our trunks underneath, Leech's top bunk had already been decorated with posters, photos, and drawings, his stuff already hung in cubbies. He'd been wearing the hand-dyed T-s.h.i.+rt from last session that was signed by the other kids and even the counselors, like an endors.e.m.e.nt of his king status. He'd already shown that he knew everyone on the staff by name, and they all knew him. Even the kitchen cooks gave him high fives.
He'd started handing out the nicknames during the first dinner, the night before. I'd been busy eating real wheat pasta for the first time, and also this leafy plant called spinach, which was greener than anything I'd ever seen and tasted bitter and smelled like wet rocks. People were giving welcome speeches to the whole camp, when I heard Leech begin.
”How about...” He scratched his chin with his index finger and thumb, a scientist hard at work. To either side of him, Jalen and Leech's other freshly minted minions were already leaning in close. ”Ooh, I know,” he said, and then he pointed dramatically to the two kids at the opposite end of the table. ”Bunsen and Beaker.” Leech's gang laughed, though I'm not sure any of them knew what those nicknames were from. I didn't. ”Who else?” said Leech, scanning the table with his squinty gaze. It landed on me. He nodded and grinned. ”Turtle,” he said. More snickering laughter.
”What?” I said back to him, because I didn't even know what he meant by the nickname. I figured I didn't look turtlelike in any way, since I wasn't overweight, so I wondered if maybe it was because of how the tortoises out in Yellowstone lived in burrows and how I lived underground, too.
”Turtle,” he snapped back at me, and I guess it was the fact that I'd dared to question him that suddenly made his grin curl downward. ”That's you.”
The reason for the nickname turned out to be even dumber than I'd thought. I learned later that night that it was just because I had been wearing wearing a turtleneck s.h.i.+rt. And n.o.body called those s.h.i.+rts turtlenecks anymore. I'd never even heard of the word. It was just a LoRad pullover like anyone else might wear back at Hub. They were part of the dress code at my school, where Rad levels were a daily issue. a turtleneck s.h.i.+rt. And n.o.body called those s.h.i.+rts turtlenecks anymore. I'd never even heard of the word. It was just a LoRad pullover like anyone else might wear back at Hub. They were part of the dress code at my school, where Rad levels were a daily issue.
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