The Cage: The Hunt Part 11

Had one of the Council's spies seen something? Had they overheard something she and Ca.s.sian had said in the alcove? That voiceless whisper in her head . . . what if it was a Kindred?

They led her into the rough-hewn foyer. The hosts and hostesses of the different menageries, dressed in their ridiculous costumes, all turned to watch. But the guards led her straight past a vacant podium and into a menagerie that was dark and smelled like dust. Only faint light came from the wall seams, illuminating outlines of furniture.

"Leave us," Fian ordered the guards. "I will question her here. Tell Arrowal he will get a full report shortly."

Arrowal. That must be the high-ranking Council member.

The room filled with the sounds of boots as the guards left. Dust choked the air; there were no sounds of kids, no music or guests. Cora pressed a hand to her throat. Even after Fian's rea.s.surances, she still had nightmares about being choked.

"What's going on?" she asked, once they were alone. "You said I could trust you."

A dim light flickered on.

"And you can," he replied.

She spun-they weren't alone. Ca.s.sian stood in the shadows, and relief made her heart thump harder, though something seemed different about him. Maybe the uniform. Maybe the black eyes.

Black, she realized. He's cloaked.

She quickly pinched her arm as Mali had taught her to do, letting the sting of pain s.h.i.+eld her mind so that he couldn't read her thoughts. One slip and he would know that she planned on cheating the Gauntlet.

"I apologize for having to scare you," he observed.

Slowly, it sank in that Ca.s.sian was behind this arrest, not the Council. As her fear waned, she looked around the menagerie. The furniture was heavy and wooden. A throne. Cells made of stone and wooden beams, as in a medieval castle.

"What is this place?"

"An abandoned menagerie. The Council sometimes uses it for private interrogations, as its observation panels have been turned off. Fortunately, the Council specifically requested you be interrogated without anyone's knowledge. They do not know I am speaking with you right now."

"Interrogated for what?"

"A few days ago, I formally initiated the application process to sponsor a human partic.i.p.ant in the Gauntlet. It caused a stir, as I had antic.i.p.ated." He paced the length of the room. "There are six other candidates who have submitted applications. Two Scoates. Three Conmarines. One Temporal."

He glanced toward the doorway, as though he feared being overheard. "The Council made it known they would prefer no human partic.i.p.ants this time, but they cannot legally prevent it. They demanded to know the name of the human compet.i.tor I was sponsoring. I refused to tell them. Now they are systematically interrogating some of the more problematic humans. Arrowal is leading the effort. He is the Kindred's chief delegate, which means he will also be the Kindred's Chief a.s.sessor for the Gauntlet. Fortunately, Fian is his second in command."

He nodded to Fian, who turned to Cora. "Arrowal wishes to locate this individual before the testing begins, when it will be too late to stop that person's partic.i.p.ation. Your name, among others, was mentioned as that of a potential agitator."

"Why?" Cora asked. "I've done everything they've asked. I've sung on cue and haven't broken any rules."

Ca.s.sian exchanged a long look with Fian. "They found out the truth about your previous enclosure. That it failed because of your escape attempt."

"How?" she breathed. "I thought you hid that information."

"Somehow, someone found out."

Cora swallowed. "One of their spies."

Ca.s.sian nodded slowly. "I warned you the Council could have watchers stationed anywhere. It seems my fears were correct. They have narrowed down the list of potential agitators to six, which means they will be watching you even more closely. Mali is on the list as well, and Anya, and Rolf-"

Cora jumped on the name. "Rolf?" Among all of them in the cage, he had been the least troublesome to the Kindred. "Why, what has he done?"

Ca.s.sian folded his hands. "Your concern right now is not to give the Council any further cause to distrust you. Dane submits regular reports about all of your behavior to the hostess. Tessela can filter them, but only so much. Now that you and Mali are on the list, they will be watching the Hunt even more carefully."

Cora was silent. She pinched herself harder.

Ca.s.sian frowned. "You are in pain."

She folded her arms to hide how she was pinching herself. "Just a headache."

"Headaches can be serious, when you're dealing with perceptive abilities."

She swallowed harder, thinking of how blood had flowed from her nose when she'd broken out of her cell. "Is that what happened to Anya? Her mind ruptured?"

"We did not realize we were doing any damage. We thought the nosebleeds and the headaches were minor side effects, not lasting-that is why we have been so careful not to push you during trainings. With Anya, it got much worse. She started to hear voices."

"Voices?" Maybe that voiceless whisper last night really was in her head-the first symptom of a brain rupture.

"Fian will return you to the Hunt," Ca.s.sian said. "Be cautious; do not give Arrowal a reason to suspect you any further."

He turned to go.

"Wait," she blurted out. "I need to ask you about something. Lucky found a code one of the other boys left behind. POD30.1."

A ripple of confusion pa.s.sed over Ca.s.sian's face. He glanced back at Fian. "That is impossible."

"It means there's just a thirty point one percent chance Earth is gone, doesn't it? Not ninety-eight point six?"

"The information must be incorrect," he said, but there was a waver in his voice.

"Did you actually see the algorithm readout that said ninety-eight point six percent? If the Council is so dead set on us never gaining freedom, couldn't someone have tampered with it to make it seem like Earth was gone?"

Again, he looked hesitant.

"Look into it," she said. "Please."

He gave a slight nod, then said a few words to Fian in their language. "Fian will return you now. But, Cora, one last thing. I've read some of Dane's reports myself. He says you and Lucky are still very close." No emotion crossed his face, and yet slowly, his right hand curled. "I cannot tell you what to do, but I would suggest keeping your distance. As I have been told, romantic liaisons are a bad idea between those working together."

She cleared her throat. She'd been the one to tell him that.

"I understand the appeal of a bond with someone in your same situation," he continued. "But you must not lose focus. Our mission is more important than everything else. It needs to be me you trust. Me you confide in."

His hand was a fist again, by his side.

Cora's throat felt dry. He didn't even know about the kiss.

"Of course. There's nothing between Lucky and me, just friends.h.i.+p."

He nodded and left, but his fist never released.

18.

Rolf "SUPPER'S READY, DARLING."

Nok's voice came from the kitchen. Rolf folded his newspaper-it was from 1969 and announced the moon landing-and smoothed his hand over his tie. He smiled and took a seat at the dining room table, pulling out the chair for Nok as she carried in a tray of meat loaf. She was wearing a frilly 1950s ap.r.o.n with a daisy pattern, and he knew she'd rather die than put on something so hideous.

But now she smiled, set the meat loaf on the table, and sat across from him. They began to eat. "I made sure to use plenty of fresh herbs," Nok said. "Fresh vegetables are good for the baby's development. After dinner, we should practice mas.h.i.+ng up apples into applesauce. That's the most easily digestible food for toddlers."

Rolf forced a smile. "Of course."

The newspaper, the tie, Nok's ap.r.o.n. Sera.s.si had presented each object to them formally, explaining that they were real artifacts from Earth. I want this to be as real as possible, she had said, adding, as an afterthought, for my research. She seemed to have some idea that this was how human couples acted. Rolf thought she clearly hadn't watched enough episodes of Keeping Up with the Kardas.h.i.+ans.

"More, darling?" Nok smiled as she served him an extra helping, but her hand was shaking.

Not far away, Sera.s.si watched their every move.

No matter how many days pa.s.sed, Rolf hadn't gotten used to the fact that an entire wall of their house was missing. In the mornings, there was usually a crowd of Kindred sitting in the spectator area, all of them cloaked and stiff. He could hear the sounds of their fingers inputting data into the computers slung around their hips as he and Nok playacted watering the house plants, reading to each other from the newspaper, putting together the crib.

He took another bite of the bland-tasting replicated meat loaf. "Mmm," he said, loud enough for Sera.s.si to overhear. "You really outdid yourself. You're going to be a great mother."

Today, Sera.s.si was the only one in the seating area. She was often there even after the other scientists had left. Sometimes Rolf and Nok would go to sleep, curled together in the bed, and she'd still be there when they woke. It was seriously starting to creep him out.

Nok stood to do the dishes. "Did you know that babies need to be swaddled for the first four weeks?" she said over her shoulder. "We can use any old piece of fabric. A towel, or even an old s.h.i.+rt-"

"Stop," Sera.s.si commanded suddenly from the seating area. "Stop this."

There was an edge to her voice that hadn't been there before. She stood, winding with quick steps through the empty seating into the house. She pointed to the baby care book sitting on the kitchen counter. "You are merely reciting facts from the books that we have provided to you. The information on fresh produce and applesauce is on page eighty-one in the 'Nutrition' chapter. The information on swaddling techniques is on page two hundred forty. We are already more than familiar with prenatal care that has been doc.u.mented in books; this scenario is meant to teach us practices we have not found in books. Informal practices." She picked up the book and dropped it into the trash can. "But you are not teaching us anything that we do not already know."

Rolf exchanged a worried look with Nok. In his heart, he felt that same familiar twist as when he had disappointed one of his teachers. Back in Oslo, he had studied all night, every night, to make top marks. It was the only time his parents paid attention to him, rather than to his brother, who was Rolf's total opposite: a prize-winning track star.

But not anymore, he reminded himself. He might never be a track star, but he had learned coordination and balance and felt the strength in his arms that meant his life wasn't just about high marks. As Sera.s.si leaned over them, he realized he didn't feel the desire to please anyone anymore. In fact, he felt the desire to shove his fist in her face.

"It will be different when the baby comes," he said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. "We don't know much now because neither one of us has had a baby before. But we've both worked with children. If you let us give birth to Sparrow naturally and raise her ourselves, we will show you something new."

Nok looked at him in that loving way that always made his heart flutter a little.

"No. I do not think so." Sera.s.si's words made his hope come cras.h.i.+ng down again. "This scenario is not justifying its expense. I cannot continue without immediate measurable results. The fetus is nearly viable; once it is, we will transfer it to one of our grow centers. Your partic.i.p.ation in this child's life will no longer be required."

Rolf couldn't quite process what he had heard. No longer required? Take the child? It wasn't until he saw the look of horror on Nok's face that it sank in.

"Wait!" Nok yelled. "Oh my goodness, I misunderstood!" She forced a sudden smile that was so incredibly out of place Rolf could only stare. "I feel so stupid! All this time I thought you meant you wanted us to adhere to the books." She smacked herself on the forehead. "It was just a misunderstanding! We can certainly do what you want! Can't we, Rolf?"

She seemed to be struggling not to turn her smile into a grimace.

"Yes," he answered quickly, though the lie had him fl.u.s.tered. "Yes, of course."

"There are so many swaddling techniques that aren't in the books," Nok continued. "In Thailand we do this special thing with, um, pillowcases. Cut a hole in the top for the baby's head and bind it up tight. Babies love it. Fall asleep right away. I'm sure it's not in the books-it's something my mother taught me, and her mother taught her before that. Really informal stuff, yeah?"

Rolf didn't dare move a muscle. He certainly knew Thais didn't swaddle their children in pillowcases, but that didn't matter. What mattered was if Sera.s.si believed it.

But Sera.s.si only watched them, her face a mask.

"Right, Rolf?" Nok prodded. "They do something special in Norway too, right?"

But he only blinked. That old nervous twitch threatened to come out, and he had to press his hands against the table to keep his fingers still. "Ah . . ." But he wasn't nearly as good a liar as Nok.

"Oh yeah," she covered for him. "I remember you telling me about it once. Mothers use their wedding dresses in Norway to wrap their babies. It's a good-luck thing."

Sera.s.si c.o.c.ked her head slowly. "Good luck?"

"You know," Nok said in a rush. "Superst.i.tion."

Sera.s.si slowly lowered her hands and typed something into the input pad around her hips. Rolf waited, barely daring to breathe, until she had finished typing.

"Superst.i.tion," Sera.s.si said at last. "Good."

Rolf let out a tight breath.

"Perhaps you have something to teach us after all," Sera.s.si said. "At least for the time being." She turned to leave. It wasn't until long after she had disappeared into the shadows that Rolf and Nok dared to sink together onto the living room couch.

Nok immediately burst into tears.

"It's okay," Rolf said, holding her close. "She isn't taking Sparrow away. You convinced her. You were brilliant, Nok. Truly brilliant."

"I didn't know what else to do!" she sobbed, brus.h.i.+ng away sloppy tears. "I'm so sorry."

He blinked at her in confusion. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"Lying," she spat out. "I made a promise to myself when they took us from the cage. I became such a terrible person there, Rolf. The things I did with Leon, that I almost did with Lucky too. I was awful to you, yeah? And the moment I realized how crazy I'd gone, I promised myself no more lies."

"This is different," he whispered. "No lies between you and me, yes. Between us and the Kindred"-he smiled-"tell as many as you want."

A grin broke through her tears.

That night, for once, they had the freedom of no eyes watching them, but Rolf couldn't shake the feeling that at any moment Sera.s.si might change her mind. While Nok spent the evening fabricating baby-raising techniques and writing them down in a journal for them both to study, he worked on the time conversion. He'd come close to solving the equation a few days ago. There was only one outstanding integer. Maybe it was a fraction he needed.

His sum came out all wrong again, and he scribbled out the bad equation.

Think, he told himself. Concentrate.

He folded his legs underneath him on the couch like he used to do, slouching down into himself, letting one hand twist knots in his hair. His mom had called this his genius-at-work pose. It let him free his mind, concentrate on nothing else.