The Star Dwellers (24 page)

“No,” Roc says, shaking his head. “You are
nothing like your father. He’s angry, but it’s cold, calculating
evil. Your anger is righteous, Tristan.”

I believe him. Because he’s my brother.

I
whirl around
twice, hoping that maybe I’m just not seeing Tawni in the shadows.
The lighting’s pretty crappy so it’s possible. But she’s not in the
shadows, not in the alley, not anywhere. Would she have left when I
told her not to? I took quite a bit longer than the minute I
promised her, so she might’ve gone to get help. Or she’s in
trouble.

I pause for a second, trying to decide what
to do.

The only place she would’ve gone is back to
the army offices, so I head in that direction, retracing our turns
through the cramped subchapter streets. I’m maybe halfway there
when I see a flash of shiny, white hair that is completely out of
place in the dismal city. When I see Tawni striding toward me
purposefully, her head down, I let out a deep breath. Trevor’s just
behind her.

I holler and her head snaps up, her
expression changing rapidly from surprise to delight. As she jogs
toward me, I hold up the packs like trophies, handing one to her as
she nears.

Her smile twists into a frown when she meets
me, her eyes darting all over my face. “Oh my gosh, Adele, what
happened to you?”

“Those damn kids happened,” I say. “But it’s
okay, it’s nothing.” To be honest, I’d forgotten about my minor
injuries, but now that Tawni’s reminded me, I feel their sting
again like I’m being hit by the rocks (and the foot!) all over
again. Trevor approaches, but I ignore him and relay the story to
my friend, telling her everything except the part about the supply
trucks—I can tell her that later in private.

“I was worried when you didn’t come out, so I
went to get help,” Tawni says, continuing to inspect my
injuries.

“Tsk, tsk,” Trevor clucks. “I can’t leave you
two alone for five minutes without you getting into trouble.”

I glare at him. “It’s none of your
business.”

“It is when I’m going to look very bad in
front of your mo—I mean, the General, because I’m failing in the
one task she assigned to me.”

“Like I said before, I just need to talk to
her, and then don’t worry, you’ll be reassigned and we won’t be
your problem anymore.”

He shakes his head. “You can be impossible
sometimes, you know that?”

“C’mon, Tawni,” I say, pulling her by the
elbow the way she normally does to me. I hear Trevor’s footsteps
follow behind us, but I don’t look back. Who does he think he is
anyway? Yeah, we might’ve gotten into trouble, ended up on a street
where we didn’t belong, had our stuff stolen…but I took care of it.
My dad sent me down here because he trusted me to take care of
things. Not to be watched over by some babysitter who’s “just
following orders.”

“Are you really okay?” Tawni whispers to
me.

“Yes, now stop worrying. It’s those poor kids
we should be worried about. They have nothing, Tawni. They might be
little brats, but it’s not like they have any other choice. They’re
just trying to survive.” Funny how your perspective can change so
quickly. Get a little new information and everything you think can
get turned on its head. The
brats
have become the
poor
kids
.

“What are you going to do?”

“There’s nothing we can do. If we stop to try
and help every street rat that comes along, we’ll never accomplish
anything. The only way to make things better is to fix the bigger
problem.”

“The sun dwellers.”

“Yeah.”

I sense that Trevor’s closer behind us. I
whirl around. “Do you mind?” He’s practically right on top of
us.

“Just trying to join in the conversation.” He
looks kind of sheepish, a far cry from his normal arrogance. I’m
glad.

“Private conversation,” I say, grabbing
Tawni’s arm again and pulling her away from him, walking
faster.

We make it back to the army offices without
further incident. “The General should be just getting out of a
meeting,” Trevor says, as if he’s trying to be helpful. For a
second I wonder why he’s telling us that, but then I remember that
it’s
my mom
he’s talking about. The General. It’s going to
take me a while to get used to that.

I nod and enter the building, zeroing in on
her door, which stands wide open. “We’ll wait in here.”

Tawni follows me into the room, and when
Trevor tries to follow, I say, “You’re dismissed.”

He frowns and pauses for a moment, as if
considering whether he’d rather deal with my wrath or my mom’s when
she finds out we’ve been hanging out in her office unsupervised,
and then shrugs and closes the door behind him, leaving us
alone.

I flop into a chair, sigh, and close my eyes.
Immediately I start thinking about the supply trucks. If I could
just get on one of them after they’ve been unloaded, ride it back
to its origin…

“Adele,” Tawni says, her voice motherly with
concern.

I ignore her, trying to formulate a plan to
deal with the supply trucks.

“Adele,” she says again, more insistently
this time.

“Tawni, really, I’m fine,” I say, opening my
eyes to look at her.

“No, it’s not that,” she says. Her thin,
white eyebrows are furrowed, as if she’s trying to solve a complex
problem. Something’s happened that I don’t know about.

“What?” I say. She pauses for a moment, as if
trying to work out the right words. “Tawni, what is it?”

She looks at me, holds my stare. “When I went
back to find someone to help me I overheard something,” she says
slowly, looking away at the end. When she pauses, I wait patiently
for her to continue. “I went straight to your mom’s office and the
door was ajar. I was about to knock—I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping
on your mother—but then I heard Trevor’s voice and I perked up. He
was telling her about how you were asking him questions about the
weapons, how he didn’t know what to tell us.”

What?
My mind is racing as I try to
fit the pieces together. “What did she say?”

“She said to leave it to her—that she would
handle it.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, but it all sounded a
bit…suspicious. That’s why I’m telling you.” If Tawni, one of the
least skeptical people I know, thought something sounded off, then
it was probably off.

“You think my mom is hiding something?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

I frown. Perhaps she just hadn’t gotten
around to telling us yet. I mean, we’ve only been with her for a
short amount of time, have practically just arrived in the Star
Realm. Or perhaps there’s something to it. Especially considering
I’ve recently learned that my mom has kept secrets from me my
entire life.

My thoughts are cut off when the door opens,
and the subject of my thoughts walks in. “Adele, Tawni, I heard
what happened,” she says, slipping past us and sliding next to me
on the padded bench.

“We’re fine,” I say, crushed gravel in my
voice.

“It doesn’t sound fine,” she says, reading me
like a book as usual. “Plus, your face is a mess,” she says,
reaching up to touch one of the welts.

Inadvertently, I shrink away from her touch,
like it might burn me. It feels so weird, being scared of my mom
for the first time in my life. “Adele,” she says, concern etching
her face, “what is it?”

I consider telling her what’s on my mind,
even glance at Tawni for support, but then just shrug my shoulders.
“It’s nothing,” I lie. And then, “I don’t want Trevor following us
around anymore.”

My mom sighs. “He told me you might say that.
Adele, I’m not trying to smother you. It’s just, this place isn’t
like the Moon Realm. It’s not as safe. You found that out
already.”

“They were just kids. And I handled it
without
Trevor
,” I say, spitting his name out like a swear
word. “Besides, the last time we were in the Moon Realm it wasn’t
exactly a safe zone, what with the bombs destroying every building
in sight.”

“Good point,” she says, nodding her head.
“But I’d still feel more comfortable if you keep Trevor close.”

“Okay, we’ll use an escort. But not Trevor.”
Anyone but Trevor.
“I don’t trust him.”

“Well, I do. And trust me, he’s the best
person for the job.” If only I
could
trust you right now,
Mom. “I know this is all a lot to take in,” she says. “Why don’t
you just relax for the rest of the day, and we can talk tomorrow if
you’re up for it.”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.
I’ve crossed hundreds of miles of danger-filled caves and tunnels,
only to find that my mom doesn’t need rescuing and doesn’t listen
to me anymore. “Fine,” I say evenly, standing up and walking to the
door. Out of the corner of my eye I see Tawni shrug at my mom, as
if to say
sorry
. Tawni, always the peacemaker.

To my annoyance, Trevor is waiting for us
outside. My fury’s not going to go away anytime soon.

“Have I been replaced?” he says snidely,
which makes me even more annoyed.

“C’mon,” I say, slinging a pack over my
shoulder, “where are our bunks?”

He laughs, but I ignore it and let him lead
us down a corridor, up a spiraling stone staircase, and into a
large room that’s buzzing with activity.

“They’re done for the day,” Trevor explains,
motioning to the dozens of soldiers milling about the bunkroom,
changing out of their training tunics, whipping each other with
towels, and generally carrying on like members of a traveling
circus. They’re all guys, some young, some old.

“Umm…” I say, “…I call bull crap.”

Trevor smirks. “Oh, I must’ve taken a wrong
turn somewhere, these are the guys’ bunks. Right this way.”

It would have been a reasonably funny joke if
it wasn’t Trevor. We exit the room and make our way down a long
hall that runs along the wall of the male bunks. At the very end is
a door on the opposite side. “The women will get you all set up and
get you to dinner. I’ll see you there.”

I ignore him and push into the room, hearing
Tawni say, “See you later,” behind us. Stopping, I take in the
room. It’s maybe half the size of the guys’ room, but still
contains at least fifty bunks, each about three feet apart, built
from gray stone, with thin pads and pillows atop them. Fifty or
sixty women are milling about in a much more civilized manner than
the men, changing their tunics, chatting away. It reminds me of the
Pen. Home sweet home.

One of the younger-looking girls notices us
and approaches. I remember seeing her at morning training. A decent
shooter but not so good at the close combat. Blond hair tied in a
ponytail. Close-set, bright blue eyes. A small nose with lips for
which smiling was a struggle. She’s attempting to smile now.
“Welcome, Rose,” she says, addressing me by my last name. “I’m
Lieutenant Marshall, and I’m in charge of the twenty-third barrack,
which is this one. I don’t think I’ve caught your friend’s name
yet.”

“I’m Tawni,” Tawni says enthusiastically,
pushing her hand out so Marshall can shake it.

“This’ll be your bunk,” she says, leading us
to an empty set of stacked beds with fresh towels and clothes
folded neatly at the foot. Fourth one on the right side, I
memorize. “Showers are through there,” she says, pointing to an
opening at the other side of the room, where women are passing
through with towels wrapped around their bodies. “Dinner’s in an
hour,” she finishes. “Don’t be late or the food’ll be gone.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, sitting on the
unforgiving bed. Tawni plops down next to me.

“Maybe it’s not what we think?” Tawni says,
picking up our conversation from before my mom interrupted us.

“What do we think exactly?” I say.

“That your mom is up to something bad with
Trevor.”

I smirk. “So you’re not so pro-Trevor
anymore?”

Tawni laughs and it reaches her eyes. “I
guess not. I mean, he’s not so bad. But you’re right, something
seems off about him.”

“Like something seems
off
about my
mom?”

“I don’t know.” She’s been saying that a lot
lately. But it’s what I’ve been thinking, too.

I reach behind me and remove the gun. Tawni’s
eyes are like saucers as I turn it over in my hands. I doubt if
she’s ever held one in her life. Not that I’m much better, having
just held one for the first time today. I shove it underneath my
pillow and out of sight.

Suddenly I feel dirty, not from my injuries,
or from the sweat-inducing physical activity of the day, but just
from being in this place—the Star Realm. I know it sounds bad, but
it’s how I feel. “I want to take a shower,” I say, “but not with
all the others in there. It reminds me too much of the Pen.” The
idea of showering with a bunch of other girls has never appealed to
me.

“I’ll go first,” she says, wrapping one of
the towels around her and slipping off her clothes discreetly, so
as to not embarrass me. She’s a good friend.

While she’s gone I lie on the hard bed, feel
the lump of the gun under my head. The gun my mom gave me. My mom
the general
. God, it’s bizarre. I don’t want to think about
my mom the way she is now—this strange person.

So instead I think about the Star Realm. It’s
so different than I expected it to be. Growing up, I always
believed the other Realms were these magical places. I wanted to
travel to them, to take in the sights, to meet the people. It’s
funny how when you haven’t been to a place before, sometimes you
picture it so much better than it really is.

That reminds me of a book my grandmother used
to read to me. It was one of the ones my relatives saved during
Year Zero, handing it down from generation to generation. A book
about the Beach, a strange open place where people go to lay in the
sun and waste the day away. My grandmother read about the ocean,
too, sparkling and cool under the heat of the afternoon sun,
washing sand and shells up on the shore. Tickling the toes of the
people on the sand. In the story, the ocean is endless, going as
far as the eye can see—and then farther still, beyond the horizon.
I picture it as a beautiful place and I want to see it for myself.
I hope it’s as beautiful as I pictured—not like the Star Realm.