False Hearts (False Hearts #1)(18)

I found a little button on the side and pressed it, and the screen came to life in vibrant greens, blues and yellows. We both gasped.

How had the people from the city worked it?

I pressed it with my finger.

Words appeared on the screen: No implants detected. Use manually? Y/N.

“I’m going to press yes,” I said.

“You know you shouldn’t. Mana-ma says it’s evil.”

Sometimes she drove me nuts. “For God’s sake. You can’t tell me you’re not even a little curious.”

Taema set her mouth in that stubborn line we both make when we’re not budging.

“If God didn’t want us to look at it, it wouldn’t have been left there,” I tried.

“It’s a test. That’s what Mana-ma would say.” She bit her lip. I knew she was curious, almost as curious as me.

“Come on, T,” I said, my voice singsong. “We’ll just take a quick look, then we’ll turn it in to Mana-ma. She never needs to know we took a peek. We’ll learn just a little more about the world outside.”

We’d spent hours tossing possibilities back and forth about what the rest of the world was like—even if my sister was far more interested in the rules of the Hearth than I was, always quoting the Good Book to me when I broke a rule. When I plucked my eyebrows: God created us as he wanted us. In his eyes, there are no flaws. To change your body is sacrilege. When I said I wished we could leave behind the Hearth and go to a city with proper skyscrapers, whatever they were: God has laid out his plan for us in the glory of nature. When I complained about going to the meadow with the rest of the Hearth: One must Meditate to remain Pure and open to God’s gifts. Over and over, even though we both knew it was all an act. Behind closed doors, she wanted to know what the world was like, just as much as I did.

Taema sighed.

I pressed the Y on the tablet.

The screen stayed lit, but neither of us knew how to work it. There was nothing taught about this in the commune. We understood a tiny bit more than others about life outside the Hearth: our parents were (still are?) pretty high up in Mana-ma’s inner circle, so they knew plenty and they shared some with us. They weren’t meant to and they were sinning by doing so, but they said they wanted us to be prepared, “just in case.” So we knew that there were things called wallscreens, and flying hovercars that looked like smaller supply ships. That there were buildings made out of smooth stone called concrete. No matter how hard we tried, though, we couldn’t imagine it. Not really. So we weren’t totally ignorant about the big wide world out there—just mostly. And that chafed me.

I rested the tablet against the inside of the tree. I had no idea what to do next. I tapped it again, but nothing happened. I knew that it was a link to the outside world, that I could learn all I wanted to, but I didn’t know how to start.

I tapped it once more, grinding my teeth in frustration.

“Maybe you have to speak to it,” Taema said, her voice so small. “I heard them talking to it before.”

That was right. They’d say “tablet” first. I kept a finger on the screen. “Tablet. Search,” I tried, speaking louder.

A new window opened, showing a blinking box. Enter search parameters flashed above it.

I looked to Taema for guidance, but she only shrugged, the movement pulling against the skin of my chest. I rested my face against my sister’s, our cheekbones touching. My knees were shaking with excitement. Taema’s shook too, but more with fear.

“Should I search for conjoined twins?” I whispered. We’d never seen any others. How did they live in the cities? How many were there?

You might wonder if our condition hurt, or if it was awkward, and the answer is no. It never hurt being attached to Taema. Though I could get so mad at her I could spit—and I had before but then she’d spit back and we’d be staring at each other’s spit-covered faces and then usually burst into laughter at the stupidity of it all—I couldn’t stomp off. There was no way for either of us to have the last word on anything.

Taema looked resolutely away. “Let’s not.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t, OK?”

I was tempted to push her, but then we’d have fought and she’d have been even more pigheaded than before. “Fine.”

I stared at the tablet again. Please state your search terms clearly, the screen reminded us. How did it even do that? Our parents told us about the internet and radio waves, how they floated through the air. Dad said that within the compound, the internet didn’t work, but the tech dampeners only worked so far in the forest. If this place was meant to be so Pure, why hadn’t Mana-ma stopped service out in the woods, too?

Taema’s cheekbone grazed mine. She kept trying to look away but couldn’t help herself. Even though we had the whole world at our fingertips, we didn’t know what about the world we should learn.

That’s it. I’d start with what I did know.

“Tablet. Search for Mana’s Hearth,” I said.

Information came up immediately: a list of some kind. I touched the first one with my fingertip, tentatively, and more information loaded. I felt Taema turn closer to the screen. She couldn’t resist. We read, side by side.

Mana’s Hearth—The Infamous Cult of the San Francisco Bay Area