Elites of Eden (Children of Eden #2)(18)

“My mom works in allocation. Once when she had to work on a weekend I went in with her and hung out in the records office all day while she was busy. I wasn’t supposed to be there, and that was the only place I’d be out of the way. No one cared about old receipts and supply lists. But you know me, I can’t not read.”

She catches what she just said with a low chuckle, and we exchange a knowing look. I do know her. I knew this fact about her years before we met. She reads the way other people breathe, incessantly, of deep need.

“I started thumbing through old records printed out on plastic paper. Not important stuff like they’d keep in the archives where your mom works. Just old receipts for food distribution and the algae farms and water circulation volume. Things no one cared about. Most of it was just shoved in any old how. Boring, I thought . . . then suddenly it got interesting.”

She tells me how this jumble of printed records went back at least a hundred years, maybe more.

“And what I found, after I’d gone through enough mind-numbingly boring lists and receipts, is that the amount of resources hasn’t declined over the years.”

I have to think about this for a long moment.

“You mean,” I say slowly, “we’re not running out of food and water and energy?” But that’s supposed to be the justification for the one-child policy. The population has to be reduced or all of Eden will run out of resources and perish.

“Not only that,” Lark whispers in close conspiracy. “From what I could see, in this district at least, the resources are actually increasing.”





AN HOUR LATER I make my way home in a dream. Well, a dream that is part nightmare. So far in my life my strongest emotions have been limited to such things as boredom, loneliness, and occasional hope. Now I’ve not only learned an entirely new range of feelings, but I’ve discovered that even seemingly contradictory ones can exist side by side. As I creep home with Lark, I’m both giddy and afraid. Both emotions have the same symptoms: pounding heart, shaking knees, anxious darting eyes.

As we start out, I realize I have no idea where I am. The map I thought I’d had in my head is gone. It should be obvious, and it would be if I was calmer. Eden is laid out in concentric rings with connecting spokes, so all I really have to do is mark the huge emerald eye of the Center and head inward until I find my own circle. But I’m so shaken by everything that has happened this night that suddenly I feel lost.

“This way,” Lark says gently, and leads me through a bot access passage.

I turn, pulling against her guiding hand. “Are you sure?” I can see the shining green dome in the other direction. “I thought . . .”

“I see a few Greenshirts on patrol tonight. More than they usually have in this circle. Are you sure no one spotted you earlier?”

“I think . . . no,” I say, not wanting to worry her about my mysterious encounter with the young Greenshirt.

“Still, something’s up tonight to have increased security. We should go the long way around. If we cut out to the next ring and then take another spoke back inward, we’ll attract less attention.”

I’m nervous, but I trust her. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

She gives me a smile of mischief. “I’ve snuck out to a meeting or two,” she admits. I question her with raised eyebrows and she elaborates a bit. “People who think like me. People who aren’t so certain that all is well in Eden. Naturally, the less attention I get the better. And some of the meetings are in outer circles, so it’s safest to be sneaky.”

I know she means not just safe from the focus of authorities, but from the seedier element that lives in the outer circles. Ash never mentioned any of this. I guess Lark has a secret life, too.

I hardly even see the gaudy lights, the extravagant costumes of the passersby. We’ve reached the next ring, and though it is visibly less clean and chic than the entertainment circle closest to my house, it is still hopping with activity and crazy with color and decoration, on both the people and the buildings.

“Look out!” I whisper when I see a Greenshirt up ahead. But Lark takes my hand and pulls me so that I veer away from him. He hadn’t noticed us before, but the sudden movement makes his head swivel toward us. I tense, ready to run, but Lark laughs and leans toward me as if whispering some secret. What she really says is “Smile! He has no idea who we are. Just girls out for a night of fun together.” I stretch my tense face into a smile, and the Greenshirt turns away. We clearly aren’t a threat.

Bit by bit, I start to relax. With Lark to guide me I feel . . . not safe, exactly, but as if I’m in good hands. The music, the crowds no longer intimidate me. I feel like I’m a part of it all now. I have a connection. I have a friend.

“Do you have any idea where you’ll be living when you go with your new foster family?” Lark asks. I shake my head. I left before I could learn any details of my future. “I hope it’s close,” Lark goes on, “but if not, there’s always the autoloop. You can get anywhere in Eden in a few hours now that they’ve upped the rail speed.”

There’s so much swirling around in my head. Just a couple of hours ago I was told I’m about to leave my home, my family. Who knows when I’ll see them again? I’ll be living with strangers. I’m torn up about that, and yet . . . Somehow, there’s an edge of happiness. When I ran away from my home into the night I felt like my whole world had broken. Now I begin to think that I can put the pieces back together. Not in exactly the same way, of course. But maybe, just maybe, even better.