“My teeth are loose,” she said.
Elijah frowned.
“I’m going to get back to the sand,” Jacob said.
“Where are you putting it?” Madelyn asked.
“We’ve been filling up your old incinerator with it,” Jacob said.
“What?” Madelyn asked. This time she pushed herself right to the edge of the couch. She intended to get up and see for herself what atrocities they were committing with the damn sand.
“Relax,” Elijah said. “He’s joking. We’ve been taking it over to the ridge behind the outhouse. There’s a pit there where it looks like you were throwing rocks?”
Madelyn nodded. “I put the garden rocks in there. It was my grandmother’s old landfill. The sand is fine there, I guess.”
“There’s plenty more to dump. If you want us to the put the rest of it somewhere else, just say,” Jacob said.
“No. That place makes just as much sense as any other,” she said. It was difficult giving up control. She wanted to go inspect their work, but she sensed that the effort would require too much energy. She didn’t have any extra energy to waste.
Elijah was still looking at her.
“It’s fine,” she said. She settled back down. Madelyn finished the tea and leaned her head back against the pillow. She was asleep again as soon as her eyes closed.
#
#
#
#
#
“This is terrible,” she said, looking at the bread. “How much did it cost?”
Jacob smiled and looked over his shoulder to see if Elijah was close enough to hear.
“Don’t say that. Elijah made that by hand. It didn’t cost you any energy at all.”
“Who would waste time making bread?” she asked, looking at it. She wondered where he got the yeast and then flipped it over. It was so dense—perhaps he hadn’t bothered with yeast.
“It’s a luxury,” Jacob said.
Madelyn shrugged. At least it was good exercise for her jaw. She felt like she was really doing something as she chewed on the bread. Her strength was coming back quickly. As the men cleared the sand from the cabin, Madelyn felt rejuvenated, like the two things were somehow connected.
“We’re going to have to vacuum downstairs,” Jacob said. “There’s just no other way to get up the last of it.”
Madelyn shrugged. “Just haul out the traps manually, please. Don’t let the composter take in all that. It will drain a ton of energy to process all that sand.”
“Okay,” Jacob said. From the way he nodded, she guessed that they had already let the composter take some of the sand. It was okay. She knew that she was too frugal with Q-battery. As The Wisdom had just demonstrated, the cabin could be destroyed in the blink of an eye. Then all her careful rationing of energy would mean nothing.
“Did my great grandfather really freeze to death up here?” Jacob asked.
Madelyn had to count the generations to decide if he was right or wrong. It was her Grandmother’s husband, Grant, who had died of exposure before he saw his first spring at the cabin.
“Yes,” she said.
“That’s so weird,” Jacob said. “Down in town they said that it never gets below ten degrees. You hardly need a jacket.”
“Hold on,” Madelyn said. “First, that’s down in town. It’s a lot colder up here in the mountains. Second, the world was different back then. They used to get several meters of snow each year, and it would be below zero from October to May.”
“Get out of here,” Jacob said.
“That’s what my grandmother told me, and she wasn’t one to exaggerate.”
Jacob looked like he wanted to object, but had the sense to keep his mouth shut. Madelyn didn’t allow any disrespect for her grandmother’s words, and that must have shown on her face.
“He wasn’t a weakling though, your great grandfather. He got caught in a squall and lost his way. He was out all night in a blizzard while your great grandmother had to sit and wait for him. She knew that if she went out looking for him, they would both die. The next day, they found each other. She had dug out the cabin, got the fire relit, and made her way to the top of the hill so she could scout for him. He made it back to the rock with her medicine. He sacrificed himself to get that medicine so she could stay healthy for her pregnancy.”
“Pregnant with your father?” Jacob asked.
She nodded. “Your namesake—Jacob Mason Clarke. You’re Jacob
Riley
Clarke, right? Where’s the
Riley
from?”
“It was my mom’s nickname,” Jacob said. He looked down at his hands.
Madelyn nodded.
Elijah came through the door with the cart.
“I’m going to need your help, Jake,” he said.
Jacob nodded and pushed himself up.
“Good bread,” Madelyn said. She tilted the slab of bread towards him and then took a small bite. It was all she could manage.
Elijah smiled. “Get healthy. We’re going to need your help soon.”
#
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#
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#
They lowered her down on a rope. Even though they had done all the work, Madelyn had to catch her breath when she got to the floor of the lift. The men had done a great job with the cleaning. They hadn’t even started repairs though. Madelyn didn’t like the smell of the control room. It was too familiar. It smelled like death.
“We could fabricate it in strips. Your unit is just too small to do the doors all at once. I’m afraid that the result is going to be weak. It won’t hold up to daily use,” Elijah said.
He was pointing to the doors of the lift. They had been molested by the onslaught of sand. Ripped from their tracks, they looked sad the way they were leaned up against the wall.
Madelyn ran her hand over the dented surface of one.
“We could reuse these,” she said.
“They’re ruined,” Jacob said.
She shook her head. “We bang them flat and then grind off the sides. There’s plenty of room to weld new brackets along these edges. They’ll be even stronger than before if I weld supports across here and here.”
Elijah nodded. He grasped Madelyn’s vision right away.
“Weld?” Jacob asked.
“It’s a skill I picked up along the way,” she said.
“You don’t have a welder,” Elijah said.
“That’s true, but that’s something I can fabricate,” Madelyn said.
Elijah smiled.
“Not here though,” she said. His smile disappeared. “Someone has to go to the camp on the lake. That unit is set up for pressure containment. It will make what we need.”
“I’ll go,” Jacob said. “Just give me the specifications.”
Elijah studied Madelyn’s face. “What?” he asked.
She turned to her nephew. “Can you give us a second?”
Jacob nodded.
#
#
#
#
#
Jacob went outside to the afternoon sun and shut the door behind himself. When it clicked into place, Madelyn turned back to Elijah.
“What made you come back?” she asked.
“Pardon?”
“What made you come back to the cabin?”
“I came to find you,” he said. “I never wanted to leave you behind. Harper needed my help to get back to Fairbanks, but I wasn’t going to strand you up here with no transportation to get back to the town. I’m just sorry that it took me so long to get everything together and make the trip. I feel like if I had been quicker, I would have been able to save you before you got so…”
“It’s fine,” she said. “
I’m
fine. What about my diary on the ether?”
“I didn’t see it. You’re very popular down in town, but I was too busy to be browsing the ether. I had to get a lot of things done before I was granted permission to come back.”
“And how did you meet my nephew?” she asked.
“He found me. He learned of Harper’s story, talked to Cleo about mounting another mission, and she sent him my way.”
Madelyn nodded.
“What?” Elijah asked. “What has you so upset?”
“He’s not going to be able to get a welder from the lake house,” she said.
Elijah cocked his head.
“The house doesn’t recognize him as human,” she said. “I’ve asked it, and it doesn’t even acknowledge him.”
“I’m not sure what you’re saying.”
“I still have my doubts,” she said. “I wonder if he is what he says he is.”
“What else would he be?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “That’s what bothers me.”
Elijah thought for a second, glanced at Madelyn again, and then really seemed to consider the problem. “No offense, but you’re being silly. The camp over on the lake is probably having sensor issues, and everything else is just conjecture and silliness. Life is complicated. Sometimes we want to make it even more complicated by inventing controversy where none exists.”
“Are you sure about that?” Madelyn asked.
“Of course,” Elijah said. “Why?”
“I’ve never seen you look more uncomfortable than you do right now,” she said. As the words left her mouth, she realized it was an unintentional lie. She
had
seen him look just as uncomfortable. It was when he talked about his dead brother.
#
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#
#
A day passed after Jacob’s departure. Madelyn’s recovery was accelerating. The more she moved around, the hungrier she became. As she ate, her energy increased and she found the desire to move around. It was a vicious circle of life. Madelyn began to wonder if the only thing that kept people alive was momentum.
Elijah smiled whenever he saw her doing something. He smiled all the time.
“Lower me down there, would you?” she asked as he headed down the stairs.
“I can’t. It’s too much for me to do alone,” he said.
She was frustrated that she couldn’t get down there to inspect the situation with her own eyes. The loss of control was worse than the loss of strength.
“I’m going out for a walk then,” she said.
“Please don’t. I’ll be worried about you the whole time and then I’ll slow down and I won’t get everything done before Jacob returns.”
“He’s not coming back,” she said. “I’ve already given up on him.”
Elijah shook his head. “He didn’t give up on you. I figured we were digging out all that sand just to recover your corpse, but Jacob refused to believe that you weren’t alive. He pushed to work faster and faster.”
“Relax—I’m not condemning him to death or anything. I’m just saying that I don’t think he’s coming back here anytime soon.”
“You should have more faith.”
Madelyn laughed at him.
Another day passed without Jacob’s return.
“Whatever you’re planning to do next, we should probably get on with it,” she said. “Did you want to return to Fairbanks? I’ll have to go with you. Without a working lift, I can’t stay here. If I can’t get to my supplies, then this cabin is useless to me.” Even as she made the declaration, Madelyn was thinking of how she could manage. She might be able to rig up a rope ladder in the shaft. If she could convince Elijah to bring up enough food for her to complete her recovery, then she might be able to make it work.
“We’re not leaving until we find out what happened to Jacob,” Elijah said. Anger didn’t suit him. It looked unnatural on his face. Madelyn smiled at him and he smiled back automatically.
“You’ve grown very attached to my nephew in a short period of time.”
“He’s a good kid. He works hard—before we left, I talked to the leader of the crew he’s on. They all raved about him.”
“Did they share any theories about how he accomplishes all that hard work?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Elijah said. Anger didn’t suit him, but he showed irritation perfectly well.
“Like maybe he’s a little better than human?”
“If you’re suggesting that he’s an Optioner, then you’re crazy. He’s way too young. That world ended long before he was even born. What you’re saying is crazy.”
“How would you know how they age?” she asked.
Elijah blushed and turned away. It was such an obvious question.
She continued.
“We can’t know what they would look like. What if some rich bastard Optioned their son when he was eighteen? Wouldn’t he still look eighteen after all this time? Wouldn’t that explain why the camp didn’t recognize him?”
“He’s your nephew,” Elijah said. “Even I can see the resemblance. Did your brother have an eighteen-year-old son during the cull? You would know that, right? You don’t look old enough to have a nephew who was eighteen all those years ago unless your brother was twenty years older than you. Was he?”
Elijah had stumped her. Everything he said was perfectly right. Still, there was something wrong with the situation and Elijah knew it. She could tell.
She turned the question to him. “How would you explain it?” she asked.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said. “People have this urge to invent stories and make myths out of something misheard or misunderstood. The tiniest misconception is worried over until a grain of rumor turns into a pearl of legend. This is why science was doomed. A method is invented to make sense of the world and then it’s thrown out. People would rather trust conjecture than observation. Worse, they demand that you honor their notions. Everyone doesn’t get to have an opinion. Facts are facts, no matter how skeptical you are.”
“Why is my theory less credible than yours?”
“I don’t have a theory. To me, people are what they seem until they prove otherwise. I’m not going to assume your nephew is some genetically modified superhuman until he gives me evidence to support that theory.”
“And I’m telling you that I’ve seen evidence,” she said.
“A misfiring sensor in a camp that hasn’t been maintained in decades? The fact that a young person has a lot of energy and a drive to work hard? That’s evidence?”
They both turned as the door opened.
“What are we arguing about?” Jacob asked.
“Nothing,” Elijah said. He turned for the stairs. Madelyn watched as he disappeared into the darkness. She turned back to her nephew.