Stars Above: A Lunar Chronicles Collection (The Lunar Chronicles)(39)
She couldn’t understand why the other shells were so content to accept their stifled existence, why they mocked her for trying to escape, even if the escape was only in her own mind. Yet mock her they did. At least, until they wanted something from her; then they were sweet as syrup.
Sybil’s nostrils flared as she inhaled an impatient breath. “Did you hear what I said, Crescent?”
Cress racked her brain, even though she knew it was useless. Her face grew hotter as she shook her head.
“I was just telling the rest of your peers that we have received evidence that someone recently hacked into the feed of the educational programming intended for Luna’s most promising youth.” Her gray eyes narrowed at Cress. “I was unsurprised to find that the feed had been copied, and was now being broadcast here, in the shell dormitories. Can you explain this, Crescent?”
She swallowed and shrank back again, and her shoulder bumped into the boy beside her. “I … um…”
“It was my idea,” said Calista, who stood near the front of the line. Sybil’s piercing eyes shifted to her. “Don’t be mad at Cress. I put her up to it. I just thought … we just thought…”
Sybil waited, expressionless, but Calista seemed to have lost her gumption. A silence filled the dormitory, and though the temperature was static, Cress began to shiver.
Finally, Arol spoke. “We thought it could teach us how to read.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, those of us who don’t know how…”
Which was most of them. Cress had managed to download a Beginning Readers app to their shared holograph node a few years ago, and she and a couple others had made it through the entire course before Sybil had found out and blocked it from them. They had tried to teach the others—those who wanted to learn—but without paper or portscreens it was a slow, tedious process.
Most of them wanted to know, though. There was something liberating about it. Something powerful.
She thought Sybil knew that too; otherwise she wouldn’t have been opposed to it.
Sybil began to pace down their line, eyeing each of them in turn, though most of the kids dropped their stares as she passed. She moved like a cat. A proud, spoiled one, who hunted for sport, not survival. The guard who had accompanied her waited by the door, attention pinned on the distant wall, ignoring them all.
“If it was important for you to have the skill of reading,” said Sybil, “do you not think I would have ensured that you were taught? But you are not here to be educated. You are here because we have hopes of curing you. You are here to supply us with shell blood so that we might study your deficiencies and, perhaps, someday we will know how to fix you. When that day comes, you will be reintroduced as full citizens of Luna.” Her words turned sharp. “But until that day, you have no place in civilized society, and no purpose beyond the blood that runs through your veins. Reading is a privilege that you have not earned.”
She stopped in front of Cress and turned to face her. Cress cowered, though she wished that she hadn’t. There would be no medal of bravery today.
Reading was a privilege she had not earned. Except … she felt that she had. She had learned the language of computers and networks and she had learned the language of letters and sounds and she had done it all on her own. Wasn’t that earning it?
It didn’t matter now. Knowledge was something that Sybil could never take away from her.
“Crescent.”
She shuddered and forced herself to look up. She braced herself for a reprimand—Sybil certainly looked angry enough.
But instead, Sybil said, “You will have your blood taken first today, and then you will prepare for a departure. I have a new assignment for you.”
*
Cress held the bandage against her elbow as she followed Mistress through the underground tunnels that connected the shell dormitories to the rest of Luna’s capital city. The shells were kept separated from the rest of society because supposedly they were dangerous. They couldn’t be manipulated by the Lunar gift, which meant they posed a threat to the queen and the rest of the aristocracy, those Lunars who were able to manipulate the minds of people around them. It had, in fact, been an enraged shell who had assassinated the previous king and queen, leading to the banishment of shells in the first place.
Cress had heard the story a hundred times—this proof that people like her weren’t fit to be around other Lunars. That they needed to be fixed before they could be trusted. But still she couldn’t understand it.
She knew that she wasn’t dangerous, and most of the other shells were children like her. Almost all of them had been taken from their families when they were newborns.
How could someone as powerful as Queen Levana be afraid of someone like her?
But no matter how many times she tried to get a better explanation from Sybil, she was rebuked. Don’t argue. Don’t ask questions. Give me your arm.
At least, since Sybil had learned of Cress’s affinity for computers, she had started to pay a bit more attention to her. Some of the other kids were starting to get frustrated. They said that Cress was becoming a favorite. They were jealous that Sybil kept taking her out of the dorms—no one else ever left the dorms, and Cress had even gotten to go to the palace a few times, a story that the younger kids never tired of hearing about, even though Cress had only gone in through the servants’ passages and been taken straight to the security control center. She hadn’t seen the throne room or anything interesting like that, and she certainly hadn’t seen the queen herself. Still, it was more than most anyone else in the dormitories had seen, and they loved to hear her tell the tale, over and over again.