Alight (The Generations Trilogy #2)(82)

Aramovsky shakes his head. “You gave up that right when you became pregnant. Do as you’re told, or I will have you escorted to your lab and confined there for your safety and the safety of the baby. Guards?”

Forty young circle-stars jump to their feet, stand at attention. Black coveralls, weapons in hand—what they lack in size they make up for in numbers.



Spingate is furious, surprised, devastated. She looks around the room. No one stands to defend her. Even if Bishop, Bawden and Farrar wanted to protect her, they would be instantly overwhelmed.

Bishop was away from the shuttle almost as much as I was. All the while, Aramovsky was quietly whispering in little ears. I thought all the young circle-stars followed Bishop, but I was wrong.

For a leader you are wrong-wrong-wrong quite a lot, are you not?

Brewer’s words. How right he was.

Little Kalle stands, steps forward from the crowd.

“I’ll go with Em,” she says. “I’ve been in the jungle already, I can help.”

Aramovsky smiles down at her, benevolent, as if he’s actually an adult with worldly experience and Kalle isn’t just a few days younger than he is.

“My brave child, Em must go alone. She is the one who has spoken to the Springers. She knows she has no special knowledge that we need here, like you have. And she knows she’s not a soldier, needed to defend us. This is the best way she can serve us all, and I salute her for it.”

Now it is so obvious—he wants me to go alone because he wants me to die. The Springers can eliminate his main rival for leadership, and he doesn’t have to lift a finger.

Still, I don’t have a choice. If there is any chance I can pull this off and save my people, I have to take it.

Aramovsky tilts his head toward the shuttle door. “Gods be with you. Go now.”

I am dismissed.



People step aside, opening a path to the shuttle door.

I step out onto the deck. The night is black, overcast, starless. A stiff breeze brings that smell of mint. Before I can walk down the ramp, Bishop rushes out to join me.

“Take a flashlight,” he says, handing me his from a pocket in his coveralls. “And a med-kit.” From another pocket, he hands me one of the white plastic cases.

He grabs me, pulls me in close for a hug.

“Stop halfway to the gate,” he whispers. “I’ll send help.”

He turns and walks back into the shuttle.

There is nothing left but to face the path I have made for myself.

I walk down the ramp, across the landing pad, and head for the city gate.





It is dark and drizzling. Blackness drapes the city in a shroud of hidden threats. I don’t want to use the flashlight, because it will let anyone following know exactly where I am.

Just like Bishop told me to do, I stopped halfway to the gate. How long should I wait? I need to get out of the city, find Barkah’s church. I still have no idea how to locate the Springers—my best chance is for Barkah to find me there.

The breeze makes leaves rustle, makes me see and hear things that I know aren’t there. I feel so exposed. Maybe Aramovsky won’t wait for the Springers to finish me off—what if he sends Bawden, or Farrar? Now that Aramovsky is the leader, would either of them obey his orders to kill me? Maybe, maybe not, but one of the little circle-stars certainly would.

My coveralls can’t keep out all the weather. I’m wet. I’m cold. I’m hungry. I’m afraid.

I’m alone.

There is only one person you can always count on—yourself.

My father’s voice. A new memory. Sitting on his knee, my head against his chest. I’m crying. I was six years old…maybe seven. Something bad had just happened. Something that hurt me, terrified me. I’m looking at my father’s face. A mustache, black. Kind eyes. Heavy, black hair, like mine. His forehead…



My father didn’t have a symbol.

And…neither did I. At least not then.

He’s crying, too. He’s holding it back but I can see it, I can hear it in his voice even though he’s trying to hide it.

Matilda, I have to send you away. I know you can’t understand right now, but you will. The only way I can keep you safe is to hide you. There may come a time when the tooth-girls tell you to do something dangerous, or the double-rings try to hurt you because they know no one will punish them. If that happens, remember—do whatever it takes to survive.

I can smell soap on his skin. I can hear his rough hands petting my hair. This isn’t a Matilda memory—it’s not secondhand, as if I’m seeing and feeling what someone else experienced. It’s like I was there, that my father spoke to me.

My father. His name was…

…his name was David.

He sent me away because of something my grandfather did. He sent me away to become one of the…the Cherished. That word has power. When I was at school, I did what my father told me—I did whatever it took to survive.

There is only one person you can count on…

I realize I’m standing in the middle of the street like a fool. What would my father think if he knew I was waiting for someone else to take care of me?

I watched Visca. I watched Bishop. I saw how the circle-stars blend in. I know how they track, I know how they move.

Maybe I’m not a circle-star, or a gear or a half—but I’m not an empty, either.