“Do you think some of the farmers camped in here on their way out of the Carving?” Eli asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. “Probably. It looks like a place they used often. ” Charry circles of old fires mark the floor, as do sandy, blurred footprints and, here and there, bones from animals cooked and eaten.
Eli falls asleep quickly, as usual. He’s rolled up right under the feet of a carved figure who has both arms raised high.
“So what did you bring?” I ask Vick as I pull out the bag where I stashed things from the library cave. In our hurry to leave the township, the three of us grabbed books and papers without having much of a chance to look at them.
Vick begins to laugh.
“What is it?”
“I hope you chose better than I did,” he says, showing me what he brought. In his hurry he grabbed a stack of plain little brown pamphlets. “These looked like something I saw once back in Tana. It turns out they’re all the same thing. ”
“What are they?” I ask.
“Some kind of history,” he says.
“That still might prove to be valuable,” I say. “If not, I can give you some of mine. ” I’ve done a little better. I have some poetry and two books full of stories that are not among the Hundred. I glance over at Eli’s pack. “We’ll have to ask Eli what he brought when he wakes up. ”
Vick turns some pages. “Wait. This is interesting. ” He hands me one of the pamphlets, opened to the first page.
The paper is pulpy. Cheap, mass-produced somewhere on the edges of Society with old equipment, likely scavenged from a Restoration site. I open the pamphlet and read it by the light of the flashlight:THE RISING:
A Brief History of Our Rebellion against the Society.
The Rising began in earnest at the time of the Hundred Committees.
In the year before the Hundred Selections began, the Cancer Eradication Rate remained stagnant at 85. 1 percent. It was the first occurrence of a failure to improve since the Cancer Eradication Initiative took effect. The Society did not take this lightly. Though they knew total perfection in all areas was impossible, they decided that closing the gap on 100 percent in certain areas was of utmost importance. They knew this would require complete focus and dedication.
They decided to center all their efforts on increasing productivity and physical health. Those at the highest level of Official voted to eliminate distractions such as excess poetry and music while retaining an optimal amount to enhance culture and satiate the desire for experiencing art. The Hundred Committees, one for each area of the arts, were formed to oversee the choices.
This was the beginning of the Society’s
abuse of power. They also ceased to have each generation vote on whether or not they wanted to live under Society’s rule. The Society began to remove Anomalies and Aberrations from the general population and isolate or eliminate those who caused the most trouble.
One of the poems that the Society did not approve for the Hundred Poems was Tennyson’s “Crossing the Bar. ” It has become an informal password between members of our rebellion. The poem references two important aspects of the Rising:
1. A leader called the Pilot directs the Rising and
2. Those who belong to the Rising believe it is possible to cross back into the better days of the Society—the time before the Hundred Selections.
Some of the Anomalies who escaped the Society in its early years have joined the Rising. Though the Rising now exists in all parts of the Society, it remains strongest in the Border and Outer Provinces, particularly where Aberrations have been sent in increasing numbers since the advent of the Hundreds.
“Did you already know all of that?” Vick asks.
“Some,” I say. “I knew the part about the Pilot and the Rising. And I knew about the Hundred Committees, of course. ”
“And about destroying Aberrations and Anomalies,” Vick says.
“Right,” I agree. My voice is bitter.
“When I heard you saying the poem over the first boy in the water,” Vick says, “I thought you might be telling me you were part of the Rising. ”
“No,” I say.
“Not even when your father was leading?”
“No. ” I don’t say more. I don’t agree with what my father did but I don’t betray him either. That’s another fine line I don’t like to get caught on the wrong side of.
“None of the other decoys recognized the words,” Vick says. “You’d think more Aberrations would have known about the Rising and told their children. ”
“Maybe all of the ones who did figured out how to get away before the Society starting sending us to the villages,” I say.
“And the farmers didn’t belong to the Rising,” Vick says. “I thought that might be why you were leading us to them—so we could join up. ”
“I wasn’t leading you anywhere,” I say. “The farmers knew about the Rising. But I don’t think they were part of it. ”
“You don’t know much,” Vick says with a grin.
I have to laugh. “No,” I say. “I don’t. ”
“I thought you had some kind of greater purpose,” Vick says thoughtfully. “Gathering people to bring to the Rising. But you came into the Carving to save yourself and get back to the girl you’re in love with. That’s all. ”
“That’s all,” I agree. It’s the truth. He can think less of me if he wants.
“Good enough,” Vick says. “Good night. ”
When I scratch into the stone with my piece of agate, it leaves clean white marks. This compass won’t work, of course. It can’t open. The arrow will never spin, but I carve anyway. I need to find another piece of agate. I’m wearing down this one with carving instead of killing.
While the other two sleep, I finish the compass. When I’m done, I turn it in my hand so that its arrow points in the direction I believe to be north and I lie down to rest. Does Cassia still have the real compass, the one that my aunt and uncle saved for me?