“I’ll think about it,” I said, which was more than I usually agreed to. I saw surprise in Sandy’s eyes, and then she squeezed my shoulder and left as quietly as she had come.
I leaned against Pa’s bed and held his hand. “Hi, Pa,” I said, and then my voice broke. I cleared my throat and tried again. “It’s me, Cassie. You won’t believe what I’m going to tell you about Becca.” I took a deep breath. “She’s actually at home studying. Studying! Becca! I asked her what she had done with the real Becca.” I gave a small fake laugh and held his hand tighter. “Well, maybe she’s changing, Pa. Maybe she’s growing up at last. That would be good, wouldn’t it? Anyway, I’m sure she’ll come visit you soon. And so will I.”
Leaning over, careful not to dislodge the sensors, I kissed Pa’s cool forehead. “I have to go now, but you get better soon, you hear me? I need you at home. You get better immediately, if not sooner. Okay?” Then, clamping my jaws together so I wouldn’t start bawling, I turned and got out of there as fast as I could.
19
IF PA WERE HIMSELF, HE’D have seen through my lies in a jackrabbit second. These days, I could get away with anything.
The moped and I were both running low on juice by the time I came up on the town square. The streetlights showed a crowd of people standing around the Management Building’s steps. Maybe they were handing out extras of some kind, like milk or apples—they did sometimes. I parked the moped and glanced at my watch: 9:00. One hour till curfew.
I’m pretty tall, but I still had to peer over people’s heads and edge my way into the crowd before I saw what was happening.
“When else in the history of this great union have we achieved such impressive goals? But we have, neighbors! Our cell—and every other cell—reports one hundred percent literacy!” Provost Allen said, opening his arms wide. A spotlight made him look like he was glowing against the dark backdrop of the Management Building. The crowd cheered and clapped, all the cellfolk nodding and smiling at each other.
The Provost of our cell—whose word was literally law—stood at the top of the steps, looking down at us. He was like everyone’s uncle, everyone’s strong shoulder to lean on—that’s what his office said. He came to company Christmas parties, grade twelve graduations, sometimes even baby namings. My pa had told me that the Provost and his family had moved here fifteen years ago, sent here by the system.
“Under my guidance, and thanks to your strength and work ethic, our cell has reached an all-time high in wheat production, feed-corn production, and milk production!” the Provost went on as people clapped more. “We are Stronger United!”
Cheers. Claps. My parents had always taken me and Becca to these rallies, and we’d always cheered and clapped as much as anyone. But today, looking at Provost Allen, knowing how little his office had helped to bring back my ma, and now to find Becca, I saw him with new eyes.
Critical eyes.
“We are two hundred and fourteen days without a serious accident!” the Provost boomed. “Our population is in almost perfect balance! We are Healthier United—our cell barely ever has a cold!”
The crowd erupted again in cheers, with some cellfolk hugging each other joyfully.
“No one is hungry! Every citizen has a vocation!”
I thought about the people I’d seen in the dark part of the sector, the people sitting around, drinking beer. What were their vocations? They hadn’t even looked all that healthy. I thought about how I had wanted to be a teacher, and Becca had wanted to be an artist. Instead she was an electrician and I was a mechanic. I mean, I didn’t mind fixing engines. It was interesting, and a critical skill in the cell. But I’d wanted to be a teacher. I’d almost forgotten that.
“But now, I hear of unrest,” the Provost said, and even though I was just one face in a crowd of hundreds, I felt like he was looking right at me.
20
THE CROWD QUIETED, LOOKING AT one other with raised eyebrows as the Provost went on.
“I hear of Outsiders, bad citizens, who don’t want to live by the cell rules!” he said. “Rules that help and protect everyone!”
Like… most of Becca’s friends. I wasn’t na?ve; I’d seen her friends. In the dark sector I’d seen people even worse than her friends. Were they Outsiders? Were they actually a problem?
The cellfolk murmured to each other, and a few shook their heads.
Provost Allen lowered his voice dramatically and leaned over the microphone, his icy blue eyes scanning the crowd. “I hear stories about kids ‘disappearing.’” He made air quotes when he said disappearing, like it wasn’t real. Like it hadn’t happened to my sister.
“Disappear?” he shouted suddenly. “I don’t think so! Not when every last corner of our cell is a little paradise! No, these few kids didn’t disappear. They’ve joined the Outsiders! These kids are choosing to lie low! To not participate in our cell!”
I glanced around his rapt audience. Several people were frowning angrily, and the murmuring increased. Then I got it: The Provost was turning the people away from anyone who disappeared. He was making it not real, not a problem.
My voice rose up and burst out of me before I even realized it. “That’s not true!” I yelled. “My sister isn’t an Outsider! She did disappear!”
Heads turned in surprise. Several of my neighbors looked at me in confusion. But I couldn’t stop myself.
“She’s not just some kid!” My voice seemed to have frozen the whole square. “You keep saying these kids! But her name is Becca! Rebecca Greenfield!”
Ridiculous Rebecca.
The Provost peered out into the streetlamp-lit gathering, as if he heard a mosquito buzzing and wondered where it was coming from.
“You be quiet, girl!” said an older woman, shaking her finger at me. “How dare you speak like that!”
“Don’t interrupt the Provost!” a man said angrily. “Unless you’re an Outsider!”
I took a step backward in shock. “I’m not an Outsider! I’m Cassie Greenfield!”
“Cassie,” said a woman, and I turned to see Mrs. Tanner, my grade three teacher. “This isn’t like you. I know you don’t mean to make trouble.” Her eyes were sympathetic.
“But Becca’s missing!” I told her pleadingly.
After another long look at me, she simply turned away and faced the Provost.
These were my neighbors and fellow cellfolk. And none of them were going to help me. Were they… were they all heartless jerks… or were they scared?
21
INSIDE, I WAS SHAKING. I’D never had people look at me like that before. I was the good twin. With everyone frowning at me suspiciously, I turned and headed to the moped. Becca was missing, and I had maybe just broken the law. I had to get out of here before my heart pounded through my chest. It was getting close to curfew, anyway.
When a finger tapped me on the shoulder, I spun, my hands up, ready for who knows what.