Athel Read online

  The loser flops to the ground like a puppet.

  * * *

  All Mayakes are equipped with deactivation buttons at the napes of their necks. They come as a package, together with the nanobots that boost our immune system, and the prosthetics that make us look normal even when we’re missing arms, eyes, or legs. Deactivation is the worst punishment under Mayake law and can only be inflicted by one of the Kiva Members, our supreme council.

  I don’t care what the law says. Cal and Yuri deserve to pay for what they did to me.

  I press again the button at the back of Cal’s neck, then scuttle away and give him a minute. The boy blinks several times, groaning. I sit on the ground and watch him, a wide grin plastered on my face. I’ve never seen him this humiliated before and the sight is refreshingly cathartic.

  “Why, hello, Sleeping Beauty. How’s the world upside down?”

  I’ve outdone myself this time. I hauled Cal’s limp body on Taeh’s back and then, standing on the saddle, I tied him to a tree branch using my horse’s reins. He’s now hanging upside down, his thin hair fanning down his head. When he realizes what’s happened, he screeches and wriggles, making the branch sway.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I say. “I was going to choose a sturdier branch, but I changed my mind.” I shrug. “It’s more fun with some built-in risk.”

  “You ugly freckle face,” Cal snaps. “Dad! Yuri!”

  “You’re wasting energy,” I admonish him. “Taeh and I rode far enough that nobody will hear you whine. And even if they did”—I smirk—“are you sure you’d want them to find you like this?”

  “Bitch,” he snarls. “My dad will make you pay for this. He’ll have you and your traitor friends deactivated forever. He’ll—”

  I get up and look at his upside-down face, the metal in his teeth blinking in the shadow play of the leaves. I lift a finger and flick his forehead, making him swirl.

  “Oh, really?” I say. “Are you gonna tell your dad that a little girl tied you up and hung you upside down from a tree? Are you, Cal? Imagine your brother’s face when you tell him the story!”

  His cheeks turn beet red. Which is actually a fun thing to see.

  “Right now I’m the only one who can get you down. And the only way I’ll do that is if you to tell me the truth.”

  “What truth?” he blabbers.

  “What are you guys hiding in the forest?”

  His eyes bulge. “We’re not the ones hiding stuff. You are!”

  “Don’t play your stupid games with me,” I say. “I know you guys almost killed a man.”

  Cal makes a face. “That was an accident. The guy didn’t even complain.”

  “How can you almost kill a man and claim it’s an accident?”

  “Oh, come on. You can’t be that clueless. We’re about to get into a war with the Gaijins.”

  “Tahari has scheduled special training for that.”

  “My dad doesn’t trust Tahari.” He says it and then bites his lips, immediately regretting it.

  “Keep talking.”

  “I’m not talking to a stupid freckle face.”

  I whistle and Taeh trots to my side. “Fine,” I say, then grab Taeh’s saddle and hop onto her back. “In that case, have fun.”

  “No! Wait.”

  He looks so small now. I didn’t know I had it in me, but somewhere at the back of my head I find myself thinking how much fun it would be to actually leave him out here.

  Cal blinks, his upside-down face red and puffy like a ripe berry. “Get me down! Fine, I’ll tell you. Yuri has new weapons installed in his hands. They’re—” He bites his lip again, as though he regrets what he just disclosed. “They’re cool. But he’s got to practice using them. That’s all I know.” He wriggles too much and starts spinning again. “Let me down!” he yells.

  Taeh feels the tension and raises her front leg, bobbing her head. I hold her by the mane, since her reins are temporarily wrapped around Cal’s body.

  “That’s not even a hair of what you know,” I snarl. “Where did you guys get the technology to install the weapons?”

  There’s a distant rustle, and then voices.

  “Dad!” Cal screams.

  As the voices get closer, I recognize Metal Jaw’s annoying blabber. I bite my lip and consider my options. I’ve been longing to confront the two brothers for days now. They’ve hurt my body and my pride. I clench Taeh’s mane, wanting to stay, but Taeh’s nervousness radiates through her skin to mine. She stomps her feet and canters from side to side.

  Taeh’s scared.

  Fear, the one thing I’ll never feel.

  I should be scared, too.

  Hennessy will go out of his mind when he learns I’ve hung his son from a tree. I may have the guts to face him, but the odds are not in my favor. I let go of my pride and allow Taeh to make the decision for me. As she whisks past Cal, I grasp one end of the reins and pull. The branch snaps off, and Cal drops and rolls on the ground until the full length of the reins has unwound. I squeeze the saddle between my legs and sprint away, leaving the boy moaning at the foot of the tree.

  What a day, I think, as we dart through the forest and back to the Tower. Wait until Athel hears the full story.

  And then the thin smile evaporates from my face like rain in the desert. Because deep inside I know I can’t share any of what I did today with Athel.

  Or anyone else, for that matter.

  Chapter Three

  Athel

  Day Number: 1,583

  Event: Janmad celebrations

  Number of Mayakes left: 430

  Goal for today: An idea so crazy I’m not even sure I should write it down.

  The violin bows rise in the air—some handheld, others screwed into prosthetic arms. The crowd falls silent, and for a moment all you can hear is the distant gargle of the river and the crickets chirping in the grass. Then the music begins, silencing all other sounds and sending a jolt of energy through the crowd. The fiddlers bend and sway to the rhythm of the tune while people dance around the bonfire, clapping their hands in the air.

  The sky is pitch black, and only a handful of bright stars twinkle above the yellow haze of the Gaijins’ factory. It’s the time when the owls come out and the scavenger droids retreat back into the gorge. The solar panels charging their batteries are useless without the sun, and, as soon as night falls, their frames fold up into a cube and the droids become inactive.

  The perfect time for the Mayakes to come out and frolic.

  I sit on the stairs outside the Tower and watch the festivities take place. Three of the eight babies born last year survived past their first year of age, and today we’re celebrating Janmad, their first year of life. Lukas and his uncle Akari are among the fiddlers, swinging their bows and stomping their feet to the rhythm of the music.

  Wes shuffles away from the crowd and sits next to me, holding a jug of Beiji—our Mayake brewed malt beer.

  Wow. “Is it such a special day that even minors are allowed to have Beiji?”

  Wes shrugs and takes a long swig. “Tahari said to go for it. He wants us all to have fun and get drunk tonight. What’s not to like?” He flashes a disapproving glance at me. “Why aren’t you having some?”

  I shake my head. “I’m not in the mood for festivities. We were this close to getting the droid down this morning and failed.”

  A full droid, not just some pieces here and there. The technology we would’ve harvested from a gigantic machine like that would’ve been unthinkable. We could’ve made not just weapons, but also restored old prostheses for people in need and created new ones.

  And yet I seem to be the only one concerned with such matters. I’m appalled that Tahari hasn’t canceled this childish party. Frankly, I’m wondering if our leader has any backbone. Only a few weeks ago we learned that one of our best men was in fact a murderer. We’re traditionally meek and peaceful, and uncovering a traitor among our own has been a harsh wake-up call. We can’t survive on our
resources alone, and the situation has become so desperate that we’re turning against one another. Without new technology we’re bound to extinction. We’re dominated by the Gaijins, the enemies who defeated our ancestors and stole our resources. In an inspirational speech, Tahari, our Kiva leader, faced the truth about our fate and declared our only option: go to war with the Gaijins.

  If the Mayake people are to die, they shall die fighting their common enemy, not one another.

  But then, in an odd twist of events, Tahari took his statement back a week later with the excuse that we need to have an army to go to war, and we don’t even have weapons. Which is exactly why the Gaijins can hold us down with a handful of droids roaming our land.

  As a reaction, our leaders instituted the Kiva challenge—a call for action to all Mayakes to make the best weapon prototype.

  Wes takes a long pull of his Beiji. “Did your mom come out?”

  I shake my head.

  “Neither did mine. She misses Dad too much and can’t stand seeing people dancing and singing.”

  “Same with my mom,” I reply. “She can’t get over it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Wes mumbles.

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Wes scans the happy faces dancing around the crackling fire and chugs more of his beer. “At least the people who did come seem to be having fun.”

  I drum my fingers on my knees. “Makes me wonder, really. Is anybody taking the challenge seriously?”

  “They are,” Wes replies, pointing a finger past the bonfire.

  I spot a shiny face scowling at me through the smoke.

  “Metal Jaw?” I say.

  Wes nods. “Yup. Apparently they have something to show tonight. It’ll be the peak of the festivities.”

  “What festivities?” I gripe. “War is a time of hardship, not lighthearted frolicking.”

  “Isn’t that the point? To be lighthearted and merry and forget all the hardship?” He swirls the jug in his hands and looks down, lowering his voice. “It’s not easy, anyway. To forget, I mean.”

  No, it’s not. We’ve lost our fathers and the wound is still too fresh to heal.

  I watch adults and children ring around the fire and wonder what Metal Jaw has up his sleeve. People skip, sing, and clap their hands. The tunes get faster, the rhythm fiercer, the dancers more intoxicated. I frown at such waste of energy.

  “All this is distracting us from our purpose,” I reply. “We need to get fit and build weapons. We need to check batteries and make sure that all our prostheses are up and running at their best. It’s what our fathers would’ve done.”

  “It’ll get done, in due time.” He sends me a sideways glance and then nudges me. “Come on. Cheer up, dude. You’re still beating yourself up over that droid.” He brings the jug to his lips again, his gaze straying back to the fire and the people gathered around it. “We were so close! We just got unlucky. Next time we’ll succeed.”

  I sigh. “The droid had come out of the gorge. Alone. It was our one chance and we blew it.”

  The last tune fades away. The fiddlers set down their instruments amidst cheering and clapping. Lukas wipes his brow and draws in sharp intakes of air. He gets a real workout whenever he plays at these events.

  The fiddlers step away from the bonfire, and Tahari comes forward. Everyone falls silent.

  Tahari is a small man with a round face and black hair streaked with white. His wide forehead is pearled with sweat, his eyes marked by long lines of worry. He stands in the clearing around the bonfire with a jug of Beiji in his hand and looks around him, nodding.

  “Brothers and sisters,” he begins, as he always does. “We’re reunited here tonight to celebrate life.” He points to the three sets of parents whose babies just turned one. “We’re celebrating at a time of hardship, at a time when we’ve been called to stand up for the future of our children.”

  “Death to the Gaijins!” somebody screams from the crowd.

  “Yeah,” another chimes in. “When are we going to make them hear our voice?”

  Tahari raises an open palm. “Patience, my friends.” He points to the Tower, our home for the past forty years. The walls are cracked, the windowpanes missing. One wing of the sixtieth floor was completely destroyed during the 2189 attack that killed a third of our people. Many lost limbs, eyes, and dear ones.

  “Look at us,” Tahari says. “Look at where we live, what we do to survive. We’re vulnerable. The Tower is such an easy target for the Gaijins’ rockets. As of now, we stand no chance against them.”

  The comment triggers an uproar of protests. Wes and I jump to our feet and join the chorus of boos. With a sweep of his wide hands, Tahari silences us all. A tall man steps up from behind him, chin raised and feet spread apart in a military stance. He opens up his blazer and hooks his thumbs in his belt loops. He sports state-of-the-art pneumatic leg prostheses that look too cool to be hidden in long pants. Instead, he wears his pants’ legs tucked inside the suctioning cups wrapped around his thighs. The outer shells of the prostheses are transparent, and sleek piezoelectric actuators glisten inside, around the steel tibias and kneecaps.

  “That’s Hennessy,” Wes whispers in my ear.

  “I know who he is,” I reply. Who doesn’t?

  “I wish he’d be less snobbish about his robotic legs.”

  “Your legs are way cooler, Wes.”

  He nods but doesn’t look convinced.

  Tahari acknowledges Hennessy’s presence with a nod and then speaks again. “My friends, you all know the challenges we’re facing and why our Kiva Council has set forth a quest for the best, strongest, and most reliable weapon we can make.”

  “We lack the resources!” someone shouts.

  “That’s why we’re going to attack the Gaijins,” a woman replies.

  “It’s a catch-22!”

  “I’ve got the weapon that will win this war,” Hennessy shouts, his voice louder than anyone else’s. The congregation falls silent. For a moment, I can hear the crickets again, chirping in unison from the solar fields.

  “I will show it to you,” Hennessy continues, drawing a circle in the air with his right hand. He steps forward and paces around the fire, his features widened and distorted by the smoke and light from the flames. “I designed the weapon myself and installed it on my son. This weapon, my friends, will make us powerful. It will make us invincible.” At Tahari’s nod of approval, Hennessy turns to his son Yuri and motions for him to come forward.

  “I’m asking everyone to please step back and make room for a quick demonstration.”

  “This is going to be fun,” I mutter to Wes, though deep inside I’m jealous. Yuri is suddenly getting the spotlight I’ve wanted from the beginning, and the defeat we suffered this morning as the droid walked away with just a few skewed panels on its back hurts even more.

  We follow the crowd to the edge of the clearing surrounding the Tower and make room for Yuri to show us his gig. Wes and I settle on the containment wall a few feet away from the north entrance, and Lukas joins us a few minutes later.

  “I’m dying to see this!” he says, his face still flushed from fiddling.

  “Sure you are,” I reply, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Maybe you can learn something, too.”

  He hops onto the wall next to Wes and scowls at me. “You wouldn’t have even thought of a Trojan horse, let alone made it work.”

  I look away and say nothing because I know he’s right.

  Under Tahari’s directions, the crowd splits into two groups, leaving a corridor running between the Tower and the riverbank. Yuri and his father stand in the middle, their legs spread in a military stance. Hennessy points to a big boulder about twenty feet away and asks people to move away from it.

  “Really?” Wes hisses. “He’s gonna shoot a rock?”

  “Not a lot of stuff can penetrate a rock,” Lukas says.

  “Unless it’s tuft,” I retort.

  “You’re just jealous,” Wes says.
r />   Right, again, so I keep my mouth shut.

  Hennessy waves his hand in the air and nods to his son. Metal Jaw grins. He balls his fists and raises his arms, knuckles pointed at the rock. Four flaps lift from the knuckles of each hand, and four gun muzzles—about five millimeters each in diameter—emerge from underneath the flaps.

  “Go!” Hennessy shouts.

  We all hold our breaths and stare. Red beams flash out of the muzzles and dive into the rock, digging a black hole into the boulder. Smoke curls up from the hole but nothing else seems to be happening. Yuri doesn’t move.

  “What was that supposed to mean?” I say, but Lukas quickly shushes me and points to the boulder. A tiny red light twinkles in the middle of the black hole. It grows bigger and bigger and, about ten seconds after Yuri’s fire, the boulder explodes into a million pieces. We all duck. Some run, others scream. When we raise our heads again, the boulder is gone. Like, completely gone, leaving only a ring of shards scattered around a smoking pit.

  People clap their hands and voice their amazement. Hennessy and Yuri exchange a high five.

  I hate that kid. What he did to my sister is heinous. And now he’s got the most powerful weapon any Mayake has ever possessed. Somehow the idea doesn’t thrill me at all.

  “Why the long delay?” Akari, Lukas’s uncle, asks. He’s standing at the end of the wall we’ve been sitting on and looks straight into Hennessy’s eyes. “You showed us power, yes. But those few seconds of delay can be deadly in war. It takes two seconds for a droid to squash you to death.”

  I gulp and rub my sore ribs, where the droid squeezed me only hours ago.

  Hennessy smiles his broad and confident smile. His robotic legs shine and squeak ever so lightly as he steps forward to answer Akari’s question.