Secret Worlds (559 page)

The chilly female judge, whose name I’ve learned is Stazzi, wags her arm for my attention. “Excuse me, but how is this connected to new applications for Fireseed?” Another judge nods in impatient agreement.

“I’m getting to that,” I say cheerily. “Fireseed, as we know, is an incredible plant in so many ways. We know it’s super fertile, and survives without water in high heat. But I found a new talent: for its use as a medicine.” The panelists, now anticipating I’ll put two and two together, relax back in their seats, readying their holo pads for notations.

“Elixir #1 is a combination of Spatter Venom and pulverized Fireseed.” I raise my left arm, which I held under a candle flame last night until I was practically screaming. The judges gasp at the sight. “As you see, my left arm is badly burned. It’s runny and blistering.”

I take a flattened spoon, dip it into the mixture, and then spread it over the burn. When it touches my skin it stings and tickles all at once. “See how fast it works?” Holding my arm out for everyone to see, the elixir hisses and bubbles and within a matter of seconds my skin is pink and tight with no burn just the way it worked with Armonk’s injury. Everyone starts to ask me for the recipe at once. I hint that I will reveal all if picked as a finalist.

For the next demonstration, I’ll be winging it. “Elixir # 2, a mix of pulverized Fireseed and beetle antler powder can be used as a powerful sedative. Who knew that Fireseed also had this property in its leaves!” I announce as I open the vial, and lift the Spatter Lizard from its box. Gripping the flattened spoon in my two-fingered hand, I dredge up a hunk of the buttery mixture and spread it across the Spatter’s arching back. Its madly cycling legs slow dramatically and its snout freezes into a gaping grin. “Now I can safely place him on the table. Elixir #2 renders the patient temporarily motionless, which is handy in a variety of situations.”

“Such as?” Axiom twiddles his holo pen.

“I know a co-worker I’d use that on,” sniggers a judge.

I stifle a laugh. “Well, it could be quite useful during medical procedures, or situations where you need to subdue a person, or—”

“Will the lizard snap out of it?” George Axiom frowns at its motionless body.

Good question. I hope I didn’t kill it. This mixture’s so new I didn’t have quite enough time to work out the proper dosage. “I, um …” Just then, the lizard slowly raises its head and rotates its beady eyes. By the time I catch it and hold it aloft, it’s again madly cycling its legs.

With relieved satisfaction, I see that the panelists are all taking notes. I’d so love to win this competition, and a fledgling dream is forming in me to replace my old Stiles nightmares. My new dream is for a man to love me not for what I look like, but for what I
do
in the world.

Could that be Blane? Way too early to tell, but the excitement over my successful demonstration has my legs wobbling and my heart bouncy with glee.

“Thank you, Ruby.” George gestures toward the door. “Please pack up and wait outside for the judge’s decision.”

That’s it? No hint of their early response? I could’ve shown the third elixir, a drug similar to Oblivion, but my druggie days are behind me, and I’d hate to encourage anyone else to use.

Marching out, I close the door behind me, pricking up my ears as I go. Alas, the judges have reverted back to savvy silence.

No time to catch my breath before they call my brother. “Thorn, um, Fireseed, your turn to present,” calls the female judge. Once again, my nerves jump all over the place.

Thorn looks at me with a mischievous gleam as he skips toward the parlor. I see now: his shirt is bulging in a place where he has no fat. In fact, the bulge is shifting as he walks.

Oh, how I wish I were a spider on the wall in there.

Bea elbows me. “What’s Thorn up to, Ruby?” I dare not say, so I simply play dumb.

Next Armonk pulls up a chair. “How’re you holding up?”

It’s hard to concentrate while I’m watching the shadows move behind the office door, but I’m glad that Armonk wants to talk. Does that mean he hasn’t heard about Blane and me? Or that it doesn’t bother him? “My presentation went well, except they got impatient with my rambling explanations. You?”

He sighs. “I couldn’t get the darn Fireseed to burn, and I know it does, I’ve seen it happen. No way they’ll pick me. So much for seeing the great Vegas-by-the-Sea.”

“You might have misjudged …”

Armonk starts to fiddle with his long braid. I jiggle my foot. Blane is sitting on my other side, picking at the armrest, but I don’t have the wherewithal to worry about what he thinks of me spending time with Armonk when I’m also worried about Thorn. Besides, it’s not as if Blane has claimed me.

Just then, we hear screeches—of delight or fear? Nevada’s office door flies open to more screeching as a Red soars out and careens toward the ceiling to perch on a light fixture. The Red flaps its leafy wings and peers down at us as it squeaks like a rusty hinge.

Stazzi rushes out, craning her neck to get a good look at the Red. The other judges clamber out and stare too.

“Watch out!” I cry as the Red lifts its plumed tail and lays a pink turd that plops down on Jan’s shirt. Cursing, Jan bats the turd off, smearing it on the floor. The Red, frightened, lifts off of that light fixture and flaps around until it finds a higher perch, on a ceiling rafter.

The string of judges look absurd in their fancy outfits, as they leap upwards in clumsy attempts to grab it.

“My. Red!” Thorn warbles.

We all gape at him. “He spoke!” Bea exclaims, “he—”

“That thing crapped on me,” Jan yells. “It’s going to meet a bad ending.”

“Enough, Jan,” Nevada warns. She reaches up slowly for the Red with a long-handled scoop she uses for cleaning sand from the tarp.

From above, the Red cocks his head at the scooper, and then down at Thorn. It blinks its brown eyes and flutters down to sit on Thorn’s shoulder.

“My word!” exclaims George Axiom. “My word!” he repeats dumbly. He sticks his finger out for the Red to sniff … or bite or whatever a Red might do.

The Red must not like what it smells. It squeezes its eyes shut and tucks its head into Thorn’s messy hair. Stazzi, the female judge guffaws at the sight. Does she know that George Axiom has cheap taste in cologne or what?

“Thorn, can you show us where this creature lives?” Axiom suggests. As the students and even the teachers try to follow them out to the Fireseed field, Axiom holds up his hand. “Judges only, please.” We sigh loudly and trudge back to our chairs.

On their way to the burnsuit porch I hear Axiom asking Thorn how he created the Reds. Thorn doesn’t answer. Has he stopped talking?

Now I’m not only wiggling my foot, I’m rocking like a lunatic. The suspense is way too much. After ten minutes of this, I busy myself with cleaning up the pink turd.

“So, are there more of those things out there?” Blane asks me.

“I guess so,” I say.

“I’m going to slaughter every last one of them,” Jan threatens.

“The hell you will,” says Armonk. “Whatever they are, they’re miraculous. I mean, this desert’s been barren for so many years.”

“Miraculous as a pink turd,” Jan sniggers.

“Oh, will you all shut up?” Bea presses her temples with her palms. “You’re giving me a frying headache.”

“One big happy family,” I say.

To which the other guys laugh.

Thorn comes back beaming and runs into my arms. I slide over and share the chair with him. He’s gotten bigger in the last month, still there’s room enough for both of us.

I whisper into his tousled hair. “Did you show them the new buds and tell them how you made the Reds?”

He cups his hand around my ear and whispers back. “No. Keep. Secret.”

“It’ll give them something to look forward to then. You’ll still be in the finals for sure!”

He nods, confident. I’m amazed at how much the Red’s eyes resemble Thorn’s. It’s incredible, these tiny half-human beings.

And me, half human as well. How many varieties of half-human are possible? Am I the same person I was a year ago? How could I be?

Axiom and the judges return from the Fireseed field engaged in a heated discussion. They file back into Nevada’s office. As they deliberate behind closed doors, she brings them cold mead on a tray. Gazing at the Axiom poster, I imagine Thorn, Blane, Armonk, Bea and Radius out at the Vegas festivities, even Vesper and Jan. All of us swimming at the beach.

Except it can’t be all of us. There aren’t that many spots.

Nevada’s doors open and the judges emerge. They form a semicircle around the podium. I grip the sides of the chair as George Axiom begins. “The first student finalist from the Greening is Bea Wynter, with her stupendous Fireseed fashions. They are fun and also functional, and will help many, many people combat the heat.” Bea yelps joyously. Radius and I get up to hug her. Nevada too.

“The second finalist is Radius Quist.” Bea runs over and gives him a bear hug and we all cheer for him. I’m thrilled that Bea will get to party in Vegas-by-the-Sea with her boyfriend. Fingers crossed I’ll be as lucky.

“The third finalist is Blane Tralfant.” Strange, I never knew Blane’s last name. It’s an elegant, mysterious name, and he’s wearing a mysterious grin. What on earth did he do to win that spot? “Blane’s advanced genetic work on Fireseed will help sort out this complex and changing plant, and we look forward to more of his work.”

Advanced genetics? Holy Fire! Clearly, I underestimated him.

Nevada heads over to shake Blane’s hand, and I do too. The touch of his hand in mine sends heat all through me. I think he feels it too because neither of us wants to let go. I break away just as Axiom announces the last finalist.

“Miss Ruby, um, Ruby … Fireseed wins the forth spot.” Laughter erupts from all corners of the room.

“That’s right,” I explain. “Where I came from, we all shared that last name.” It was a hallmark of our society. My neck burns with anger. And excitement!

“Well, Miss um, Fireseed,” Axiom stumbles, “we appreciate your medicinal elixirs.”

“You mean, her
drugs?
” Vesper mutters from the facing couch. Sore loser.

Thorn squeezes my arm. Armonk, Bea and Nevada congratulate me. Then Blane comes over and surprises me with a hug. He feels good. I can’t lie. I inhale his scent of sweat and musk as his strong arms fold me in. From the corner of my vision, I see Vesper studying us but I can’t put my finger on her expression other than it’s coldly blank.

When Blane heads over to talk to Radius, Thorn jiggles my arm. I’m so excited that it doesn’t dawn on me right away. They haven’t called my brother’s name. “I was sure you’d be picked,” I tell him, “It makes no sense.” His creation is the very pinnacle of what we’ve done here. It’s so obviously a winner.

Big tears start to roll down his cheeks as I clutch him to me. “I’ll talk to them, okay? I’ll ask them what happened.” He nods, swiping a hand across his nose.

I dash after the judges, packing up their holo pads and latchbags in their fancy gliders. “Is there some mistake?” I ask Axiom.

“Meaning?” He whirls around looking taller and more wizardlike up close with his pouf of hair and disc-shaped eyes.

“My brother, Thorn made those Red creatures. Shouldn’t he have won a spot? Aren’t they the most incredible things you’ve ever, ever seen?”

“They’re quite impressive.” Axiom looks down at his hands.

“So, why didn’t he earn a spot? I mean, how could—”

“The judging process is not up to me alone. It, um, has many factors,” he says, still examining his cuticles. “I’m not at liberty to reveal the processes.”

“But …” Doesn’t he run this whole thing?

“George?” Stazzi peers out of the glider and glowers at me.

“I must go.” He offers me a harried handshake before stepping into his glider. As if he feels guilty for brushing me off, he calls out at me through the window. “I look forward to seeing you and the other Greening finalists out in Vegas-by-the-Sea.” He gives his driver a hand signal to take off, and the caravan makes a steady ascension into the sky.

It feels as if the wind’s been slapped out of me. What can I tell my brother? I haven’t the heart to go back inside. Turns out I don’t have to. Thorn bursts from the front entrance, followed closely by Jan, who’s dressed in a burnsuit. Jan is cursing at Thorn.

“I’ll smear those bird poops in your hair! Get back here, you little creep!”

Thorn is very fast on his feet these days, but Jan has long legs, and could’ve been a professional runner, if there were any down here.

I start to chase after them when an incredible thing happens: there’s a frantic rustle in the Fireseed field. A band of at least forty Reds alight from its canopy. Their madly fluttering wings are framed against the bright coral sky as they charge toward Thorn and Jan. But instead of the Reds attacking Jan as before, they link their wingtips to form a fluid, rolling rectangle. Soaring closer and closer to Thorn, they swoop him up on their airborne carpet, just as Jan has caught up and reaches out to grab Thorn.

The Fireseed hums its approval
Safe, safe, safe, safe! Fly, fly, fly.

I cheer from the dunes below. “Go, Reds!”

A distinctly more human cheer erupts from behind me. Spinning around, I see Blane, Armonk, Radius and Bea pumping their fists by the entrance to The Greening.

Today Thorn spoke for the very first time in front of his classmates and now this flying red escape hatch. It’s unfathomable that Thorn didn’t get picked, and I sense the real reason could be disturbing. What other bizarre wonders and terrors await us I can hardly imagine.

Armonk, Thorn and I take one more trip to Dr. Varik before I pack for Vegas-by-the-Sea. This is Thorn’s first trip here and he’s excited to meet the well-regarded doctor. He skips along the tasteful stone path and raps on the door.

Dr. Varik is delighted to meet Thorn as well, and they seem to hit it off—this all with few words, though Thorn is talking more. The doctor examines Thorn, peering into his ears and down his throat. “Have you been eating much?”