The Softwire: Betrayal on Orbis 2 (11 page)

“He said you must release him. His time is up,” I replied.

My announcement sent the Trading Council members scrambling. A few circled around Odran, shouting at him, their arms flinging about and pointing at the tank.

“This has gotten out of hand,” I heard one say.

“He is still a knudnik,” said another.

“I know what is wrong with Toll,” Ketheria said, sneaking up to us amid all the commotion.

Theylor touched her head just above the device she wore to control her telepathy.

“You do?” Theylor said.

“It is Smool, his mate. She is with child,” Ketheria informed them.

Everyone in attendance turned to Ketheria.

“How does the human know this?” someone asked.

“Are the child’s abilities not contained?” I heard another whisper.

Drapling strode over to my sister. “How
do
you know this?”

“I just do,” she said.

“Ketheria, go back with Max, OK?” I told her.

Ketheria returned to Max, who was now as close as she could get in order to hear as much as possible. Theodore kept tugging on Max’s skin, but that did not stop her from inching closer.

“It is impossible for the child to know this,” Drapling said.

“My sister’s not lying. Why would she?” I said. “What difference does it make if Smool is going to have a child?”

No one answered. The council members huddled near Odran’s tank. He watched them closely, almost nervously. When Odran tried to move closer, one of the council members turned his back to him.

“This is none of your concern, Caretaker,” the alien said.

The Trading Council members huddled tighter, whispering and occasionally glancing at the Keepers. Odran stayed close to them, as if he were part of their conversation, but they did not include him. Occasionally he would nod as if a council member were talking to him, but they were clearly ignoring him.

The Nagools were now on the stairs with Drapling.

“What’s wrong?” I asked Theylor.

“Nothing’s wrong . . . right now,” he said. “Will you confirm this news with Toll?”

“Sure,” I said. “But how will I contact you?”

“I will return shortly,” he said, and followed Drapling down the stairs.

Max and Theodore ran over to me when the last of the council members had drifted down the stairs.

“Did you see the size of that thing?” Theodore exclaimed.

“His name is Toll,” Max reminded him.

“I know but — wow, huge!” Theodore said, standing near the edge of the tank and looking out.

“What’s wrong, JT?” Max said.

“I don’t know, but something doesn’t feel right,” I told her.

“What do you mean?”

“Things just aren’t adding up.”

“It’s not our business,” Theodore said.

“I think it is,” I replied.

Theodore and Max counted eleven different aliens that visited Odran over the next three cycles. Even a Nagool came. Most of the kids hid in the shadows and watched the strange creature shuffle by, looking almost as if he were floating. The Nagool wore the same symbols embroidered on his thick robes as Odran had tattooed on his right temple.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Max whispered.

Theodore shook his head. “It can only be about the Samiran.”

“The Nagool is worried about the baby,” Ketheria said. Max and I looked at my sister.

“The baby?” I asked.

“The Trading Council did not know about the Samirans’ baby,” she said.

“I’m tired of these three — and that one,” Switzer said, pointing at Ketheria. “This is boring.”

“Yeah,” Dalton said, for no apparent reason except to agree with Switzer.

He stood up and pointed to me. “Acting like you own this place. I don’t care what you can do for them. You’re all a bunch of split-screens to me.”

“Ignore him,” Max said.

“Come on, Dalton, let’s see what other freaks live in this place,” he said.

Dalton jumped up. “Where we goin’?”

“Anywhere. Anywhere else.”

We watched them leave before I asked my sister, “How do you know this, you know, about the baby? Can you still read their minds?”

“I just know,” she said.

“Why haven’t the Citizens let the Samirans go yet?” Theodore asked.

Ketheria shrugged and left, too.

I wanted to talk to Ketheria. She was making everyone feel uneasy with these mysterious tidbits of knowledge she kept blurting out. It only isolated her from everyone, and she didn’t have many friends to begin with now that Nugget was gone.

I left Theodore with Max and went searching for my sister. At the bottom of the stairs, I turned right and walked away from the glow of the tank.
Why did Toll have to tell the council to release him?
I wondered. Doesn’t that happen automatically? I reached a thick, wooden door and had to turn the knob to open it (unusual for Orbis where most doors were automated). I entered a longer, narrower room.

I weaved my way through rows of stone columns supporting the veined, arched ceiling, wondering if I would have to demand the Council to release me one cycle. A pale blue light splashed onto the floor from small lamps circling the tops of each pillar.

“Ketheria!” I called out.

“I’m over here,” I heard her say.

Ketheria was plopped against a pillar in a dark corner of the long hallway. A small shaft of blue light twinkled off her headpiece.

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

“About what?”

“Lots of things,” she said.

“Like what?” I asked.

“The
Renaissance,
” she said. “I miss it.”

“I thought it was Nugget.”

Ketheria looked up at me. “Oh, I miss him too, but in another way. When I think about the
Renaissance,
I mostly miss the silence.”

“Silence? With two hundred kids running around?”

“Not silence here,” she said, pointing at her ears. “Silence here.” Ketheria touched her fingertips to her chest. “There’s so much pain on Orbis. It makes so much noise.”

My sister sat with her shoulders slumped. She stared at her hands while she played with her fingers. She looked sad.

“Ketheria . . . the things you say . . . I mean how do you . . .
know,
like the thing about Smool?”

“I don’t know how. I just do. It’s like I know you’re my brother. It just is.”

“Oh,” I said, but I really didn’t get it.

“Can you . . .” I pointed at the ornate band of metal the Keepers had attached to Ketheria’s head.

“This? It works a little — not that much, though. I have to concentrate, but I don’t read people’s thoughts anymore. I know people don’t like that.”

I looked at my sister. She was eight years old, but I felt like I was talking to an adult. Even the older kids giggled and ran about the corridors playing with anything they could find, but not Ketheria. Those things didn’t interest her. Sometimes I felt that nothing really interested her.

“Are you OK?” I asked. “Do you miss our parents?”

“How could I miss our parents? I never met them,” she said, and I felt a little foolish about the question.

“You would tell me if anything was wrong, wouldn’t you? If someone was bothering you or, you know, anything.”

Ketheria looked up and smiled. “My brother, you have so many other things to worry about right now. A large burden is about to be placed on your shoulders once again and not by your choice. Do not worry about me. You will have far more serious issues to deal with.”

“You can see the future now?”

She shook her head and smiled. “It’s your destiny. I can feel it.”

I stared at my little sister.

“You know you’re only eight.”

“Almost nine,” she said.

“That must be the ocean,” Max said. “See, the far side of it over there, between those two buildings.”

Max was pointing out one of the windows that lined the room behind our sleepers. I squinted, but the lights from Core City made it impossible to tell the ocean from the buildings.

“Get over here,” I heard Odran say, and turned to see him drifting into our room. We moved quickly toward his glass-and-metal support. “If I’m forced to feed you and board you, then I intend to get my money’s worth.”

Odran handed me a metallic screen scroll.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“I’m making you the controller. You are in charge.”

“Me?”

Max gave me a little nudge and smiled.
I was going to be in charge of everyone?
I looked around for Switzer, but he wasn’t in the room.

“I don’t know what your aptitude is for handling others, but I’m sure we’ll find out. You are responsible for each person’s actions and ensuring the work gets completed. If it doesn’t, I will hold you personally responsible. Do you understand?”

“I can handle it,” I said. “The work will get done.”

“I hope so, for your sake.”

“What about social study classes?” Grace asked.

“I have no intention of paying for your education. Take that up with the Keepers.”

A couple of the kids smiled. They didn’t like taking the classes. Neither did I.
But I do like the idea of being in charge,
I thought. Maybe they were beginning to see that I could do good things on Orbis, that I was more than a second-class citizen. I was a softwire. Didn’t that count for something? I cradled the screen scroll in my hands. I wanted to poke inside and see what the work was.

Odran was counting all of the kids. “Two of you are missing. Where are they?” he demanded. Most of the kids shuffled around, staring at their feet. Switzer was not the most popular person, but no one dared give him up.

“Right behind you, alien sir,” Switzer said. I could see beads of sweat on his brow. He had just finished running from somewhere.

Switzer tried to slip around Odran, but the alien turned his tank and grabbed Switzer by the skin.

“Hey, let go of me!” Switzer protested.

“Where were you?” Odran asked.

“Uh . . . we were watching the big fish,” Dalton said.

Odran twisted Switzer around and pushed him toward me.

“Is this the one you told me wanted to escape?”

What?
“I never told you that. I mean, I know . . .”

“Figures,” Switzer mumbled under his breath.

“Any knudnik caught trying to escape can and
will
be killed. There is not a Keeper on these rings that can stop me,” Odran said to everyone.

“I wasn’t trying to escape,” Switzer protested, glaring at me.

“And a liar, too?” Odran said. “Controller, come here.”

What did I have to do with this?
I moved toward Odran.

“Controller?” Switzer scoffed. “Him?”

Odran handed me the same device he had electrocuted me with and said, “Administer the punishment.”

I looked at the prod and I looked at Switzer. I couldn’t do this, even to Switzer.

“No,” I said.

“How can you expect to be in charge if you’re not willing to punish those who disobey?” Odran demanded.

Suddenly I didn’t want to be the controller anymore.

“I can’t,” I said. “I won’t.”

“Pathetic creatures,” Odran spat. “Fine. Then I will administer the punishment to each one of you as a lesson.” He turned to me. “You have a sibling here, do you not? We can start with her. Bring her to me.”

“No! Stop!” I shouted, putting my hand against Odran’s floating tank. It was warm under my skin, like I was touching a warm-blooded person. “You can’t do that. He’s the only one that should be punished.”

Odran grinned and handed me the prod. “It’s your choice.”

I stood between Switzer and the other kids with the black metal stick at my side. Everyone’s expression was the same:
What’s he going to do?
I already knew what I was going to do. It wasn’t a choice for me. I knew what a zap from that thing felt like. There was no way on Orbis I was going to let Odran touch Ketheria.

I thrust the metal prod at Switzer, striking him in the chest. Switzer cried out in anguish and dropped to his knees. Someone else screamed, too. I looked at Odran. He was smiling — I think he enjoyed it. But I couldn’t look at the other kids. I had attacked a human at the orders of a Citizen. I hated myself at that moment more than I hated Odran.

I stared at Switzer shaking on the ground. His eyes were filled with tears, but he fought to prevent a single tear from hitting the floor. Letting the others see him cry was a worse punishment than getting zapped by the prod, I figured. I wondered which Switzer would make me pay more for — the zapping or making him cry in front of everyone.

“Make sure all of the work is completed on time. This is the rotation of the Harvest, and you have no time to waste,” Odran said, and turned away. “I’ll leave the
enabler
with you in case you need it again, Softwire.”

I looked down at the device, then let it slip from my hand. It clinked against the stone floor.
Enabler.
What an ironic name, I thought.

After Odran left our room, Dalton tried to help Switzer to his feet.

“Leave me alone,” Switzer told him.

“I don’t care what’s on that scroll. I’m not doing anything for that bucket of sewer water,” Dalton said.

“Yes, you are,” Switzer replied, and pushed himself off the floor, sitting up slowly.