As we wind through the roads, I am struck again by how much more freedom we have here, even as second class immigrants. In New Amana, citizens weren’t allowed to drive. Everyone used public transportation, and those in power used taxicabs. But here we are, Shale and I, driving in a truck together. It is as if we are in a movie from a different time, off for a Sunday drive. I laugh.
Shale glances at me, an answering smile on his shadowed face. “What?”
I wrap my hand around his. “Just seeing you puts a smile on my face,” I say, parroting his line from before. He chuckles, not knowing I mean every word.
We drive past the compound limits. I imagine our truck like a shooting star streaking through the night, carrying us on a secret purpose. When we arrive at the checkpoint, a Monitor looks at the license plate on our truck, checks our IDs, and then goes to the back to see what cargo we are carrying. Eventually he seems satisfied and waves us through. It helps our cause immensely that, to them, most of us New Amanians appear to be harmless immigrants, scared and malnourished and unbalanced, barely able to survive the workload they place upon us. If we do escape, they know we will perish in the harsh winter. They don’t have much to fear.
We drive into the small rural city of Shanwei, where the occasional farmhouse crouches like a wounded animal cloaked in darkness. Most of the houses have vehicles outside or a small light on inside to suggest life, but others look abandoned. Roofs are caved in, the glass in the windows is shattered, and doorways gape like empty maws. I wonder where the owners of those houses went. Perhaps to the bigger cities, in search of a utopia they’ll never find. The thought fills me with a despondence that I struggle to push away. My utopia is here, with Shale and Ceres beside me. I must remember that.
Finally, we drive past the area where the yez is located. In the distance, perpendicular to the road on which we drive, I see the warehouse’s deceptively abandoned-looking parking lot. In the starlight, the long, gray warehouse glows silver. We must be getting close. I feel a stirring inside my chest and look at Shale, smiling. He smiles back at me, his features soft in the moving shadows.
Not too much later, he pulls off the main road onto a dirt path and then, parking under a tree, cuts the engine and turns off the headlights. His eyes sparkle. “Ready?”
We get out of the truck, Shale holding on to a lantern that blazes brightly for us.
I follow him through thick vegetation, shrubs and bushes that cling to the ground, desperate not to give up their spot even for the winter. I shiver as an icy wind tugs at our clothes, and he wraps his arm around me, holding me close. It makes it a little harder to walk, but I don’t complain. His heartbeat thumps against me, and I marvel at the fact that we are here, together, without any barriers between us.
After a moment, I realize I’m hearing something besides just our footsteps: a great whooshing. I stop walking to listen closely. “Is that what I think it is?” I can’t contain the excitement in my voice. “The Yangtze river?”
Shale squeezes me tighter. “I thought you might like to see this. Some of the men told me it’s quite a sight.”
He’s right.
The enormous river is absolutely stunning; there’s simply no other word for it. Towering mountain passes swathed in mist hulk over it—the same ones I’d seen from the rooftop. They’re carpeted in greenery that looks like indigo velvet in the dark. The fog swirling at the top belongs in a fantastical dream. I am bathed in the cold mist of the water as it rushes by us, gurgling, whooshing, flowing over rocks that hang on for dear life in its mighty wake. The reflections of the stars stud the Yangtze like diamonds on a rippling necklace.
“Wow,” I breathe, the word hanging in the air like white smoke. I walk forward and put my hand in the water; it is frigid. “This is so...” But I trail off, unable to find the word I’m looking for. “Perfect” might be close.
Shale comes to stand by me, and we watch the water together. It calms my very soul to listen to it, to see the majesty and the utter permanence of nature, in spite of mankind’s best efforts to ravage it.
I turn around in a circle. “This scene feels like it belongs in a fairytale.” Off the enormous outcroppings of rock hang curtains of climbers, ivy and other plants I don’t even know. I walk toward them, running my hand through the hanging plants, imagining they are strings of harps and I am playing music.
“It does feel magical, doesn’t it?” Shale asks, following behind me. I realize I’m extremely aware of the heat of his body, of the way I can feel his breath on the back of my neck if I concentrate. “Look at this.”
I turn to see he’s parted the plants and is peering through. I go to where he is; there is a cave behind one of the green curtains, hidden away like a secret room. I step through and Shale follows with the lantern.
Cold and dank, the cave smells like wet dirt and hidden secrets. I run my hands along the icy walls, my fingers tripping along the imperfections. This little secret hideout for Shale and me feels like it’s exactly where it should be. Like it was put here for us to find. “It’s beautiful in here.” My voice echoes.
Shale smiles. When I turn, he is looking right at me, his eyes lit from the fire of the lantern. “It is.”
I stand very still against the rock wall of the cave and drink him in—his curling black hair, coiled against the soft skin of his neck, his broad shoulders, his height. The cave feels like it should be too small to contain him. Shale sets the lantern down by his feet and walks toward me, closer and closer until I am looking up at him, the crown of my head pressed into the stone at my back.
He smoothes a strand of hair off my face, his touch warm in spite of the wintry air, rough from the rocks and picks he handles every day. “I’m sorry for my distance, Vika,” he whispers, letting his hand linger in my hair. My every nerve thrills. “I didn’t know how things stood between us. Things felt so different between us on the ship.”
I know what he means. We were living in limbo those days, bruised and battered, unable to fully process what was happening. Freedom felt fleeting, unsure, as if China were perhaps a dream, a lie concocted by those who needed to believe in something. As if, maybe, there was no life beyond the endless ocean and salt-burnished air. I stare deep into his eyes. “I can’t believe we’re here, like this...together.”
His hand drops to my neck, cradling the side of it gently. “It does all feel like a dream. But if there’s one truth in my life, it’s that I’d run away with you in a heartbeat. And if we ran, it’d be to a place like this. Beautiful. Magical. Hidden. Our little secret.”
My breath catches as he moves his head lower, until his lips meet mine. The kiss is gentle at first, soft and even a little chaste. But then the fire inside me begins to grow, from a flickering flame to a huge, ravenous blaze. I want to feel every part of him, every last bit of his skin on mine. I want to know him again, like we knew each other once in Ursa, in another lifetime. We sink to the floor of the cave, using our clothes as bedding.
We lose ourselves in each other to find ourselves once more.
◊ ◊ ◊
When Shale arrives to pick me up the next night, I'm already sitting by the door, anxious. Benkoela, Trigger’s mate, will be keeping an eye on Ceres, who practically pushes me out the door when Shale knocks. I laugh, but stop abruptly when I see Shale’s expression, his eyes roving over me.
"What?" I tug self-consciously at the ends of my hair.
"I was thinking how beautiful you are. And yet you don't appear to know it."
Heat rushes to my face, but I concentrate on pulling my wool jacket around me. "I'm swollen."
Planting a soft kiss on my cheek, Shale takes my hand. As we walk in silence to the depot, I welcome the cold night breeze. My stomach is queasy—not from the pregnancy, but from thoughts of what lies ahead. Elara has to be willing to look past the fact that I didn't do as she asked. She has to allow us to go to the other compound. Her past should work in our favor. Surely losing a child has made her more sympathetic to my situation. If I appeal to her, one mother to another, how could she not listen? But I think again of her mask, her eyes glittering in the lights, how she seemed to be hiding something, and I know she is the Radical leader first, and anything else second. Her decision might be based on what’s best for the group and not for our individual family. I realize if I keep turning the possible outcomes over in my head, I’ll go mad.
We knock on the door to the depot and Trigger answers. He grins at the two of us holding hands. “You two lovebirds ready to experience the joy of my driving? It’s an experience like no other, I tell ya.”
Shale chuckles as we walk to the waiting truck. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that. Where’s Ananke?”
“She had some other business to attend to. Since you two know what you’re supposed to do now, you don’t need an escort anymore.”
I glance at Trigger as he says the words, and his face is devoid of any expression. I trust him because Shale trusts him, but I wonder, too, if the order for us to go alone came from Elara. My stomach lurches again, nausea washing over me. I take a deep breath.
We climb on to the truck and Trigger closes us in after handing Shale a flashlight. Inside the utter darkness of the truck’s back compartment, Shale turns it on. We sit side by side as the truck roars to life. I relax once we've picked up speed, and Shale takes my hand in his again. "Are you nervous?"
I put my head on his shoulder. "Yes. Aren’t you?"
He squeezes my hand, kisses the top of my head. "We'll make this work somehow. Even if Elara isn't sympathetic to our situation...I'll take care of you, the baby, and Ceres."
I appreciate his courage and his offer, but I know I can't depend on him to keep us safe. I simply can’t cede that responsibility to him. But instead of telling him this, I say, "Maybe Elara will be kind enough to understand."
Maybe.
◊ ◊ ◊
After we've traveled thirty minutes, Shale and I move to the trunk and pick out our outfits for the evening. I slide into mine—a teal dress with gossamer, gold-sequin-adorned sleeves that come to my elbow. This one is roomier around the middle than the red one was, and it's easier for me to breathe. I thank Ananke silently; I know Shale has apprised her that I’m still pregnant.
I choose a gold mask and soft gold shoes. When I turn, Shale, once again, takes my breath away. Like before, he's in an old-fashioned black and white outfit. But this time he wears a gold bowtie around his neck.
"I feel ridiculous in this," he mutters.
I smile shyly. "You look dashing."
He laughs and pulls me to him. The truck bumps over something in the road and we fall to the floor in a tangle, laughing. I try to straighten myself, but Shale puts a hand on my face, suddenly serious. Carefully, he kisses me, as if he's afraid I'll break.