FIRST THINGS

 

The first thing is not to get caught, Seth told himself as he pressed his body into the soft rain forest soil, cradling his mangled hand on his chest. He pressed the back of his head into the ground beneath him. It was spongy with moss, moist with dew, and it accepted his aching limbs lovingly. The air was heavy and close like a blanket. He closed his eyes, and when he tried to open them again, they felt stuck together with sleep. Maybe I should just rest, he told himself. This is as safe a place as any.

He was drifting off when an alarm blared through the bay, making the ferns over his face tremble. It was a single loud blast, like a clarion call, so different from the repetitive bursts on the Empyrean. A tinny voice came over the loudspeaker: “Attention: Inform Central Command immediately if you see an unaccompanied young man.”

Seth heard a quick intake of breath from someone close by.

“Poor thing!” said a woman off to Seth’s right. Seth dared to shift his head to peer through the undergrowth. He couldn’t see the speakers’ faces, but he saw a petite woman’s brown hands about fifteen feet away. She had a basket over her arm, and it was full of star fruit and papaya. He couldn’t see the man. “They’re searching for him like a common criminal.”

“He might be a criminal, Maya,” the man said. “He must be up to something if he didn’t come with the rest of the survivors.”

“He’s just a kid, Anthony!”

“I know,” the man said, his tone softened.

“Poor boy,” the woman said sorrowfully. “He must be so afraid.”

Am I afraid? Seth wondered. He was suddenly aware of his laboring heart, his dry mouth and jangled limbs.

The conversation between the man and woman subsided. Seth knew he was well concealed, but he felt pinned by their proximity. He heard the door he’d come through open and the sound of heavy boots on the path—at least four or five people, moving fast.

“Have you seen a stranger today?” asked a man, his tone forceful.

“No,” said the man called Anthony. “Nobody came through here.”

“Really? Because we’ve got video of a fugitive entering the rain forest bay.”

Seth kicked himself. Of course they’d have video of him coming here! How could he have forgotten that?

I’m tired, that’s how, he thought grimly. Can’t think straight.

“Well, Thomas, we haven’t seen him,” Maya said.

“Are you sure?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked. Seth squinted through the brush and saw her cross her arms.

“I haven’t seen you at services for the past few Sundays,” the man said. “That doesn’t exactly vouch for your attitude.”

“There’s no reason to attend services anymore,” she said. “Not when the Pastor is such a hypocrite.”

“Maya!” Anthony cried.

“What?” she said. “This is a free society, isn’t it?”

“The Pastor deserves your respect,” said the man she’d called Thomas. Seth heard a footstep, and now the man was blocking Seth’s view of the woman. He wore a black jumpsuit with a utility belt, and there was an insignia on his shoulder that looked like a dove. “I suggest you keep your thoughts private.”

“Is that a threat?” Maya asked.

Thomas took another menacing step toward Maya, and finally Anthony spoke. “Everyone is edgy right now. With the explosion on the Empyrean? Thomas? We’re all just edgy.”

“You should control her better,” Thomas said from between gritted teeth.

Maya made an outraged squawk, but Anthony spoke over her. “We’ll let you know if we see anything. Okay?”

“I’ll know if you’re keeping secrets,” Thomas said.

“It won’t work, what you’re doing.” Maya stomped a little foot on the ground. “You can’t control people with fear for long.”

“You don’t listen well,” Thomas said.

A second guard, shorter and stockier, said, “We’re getting off track, here, Tom.”

After a pause, Thomas said, “Close off the exits and call up more men.”

Seth was trapped already!

Perhaps not yet, if he left before the exits were sealed.

His hand throbbed, but he set his teeth against the pain. He listened to their fading voices as the men spread out, headed for the various exits. He tried to make a mental map of the rain forest bay on the Empyrean, which would be identical to this ship. There were six doors total. There hadn’t been enough guards to cover all those doors. If he moved now, he might still get out. It was inevitable the couple would see him, but that was better than getting caught by the guards. Bracing himself on his good hand, he stood up quickly and shot off through the foliage, running as fast as his tired body could go.

“Did you see that?” he heard Maya ask as he sped away through the dense growth, trying to make his way toward the port-side stairwell. He jumped over the root of a banyan tree, but another root caught his toe and he hit the ground with terrific force. He rolled onto his broken hand and screamed.

Footsteps approached. Seth felt a hand on his back, and when he looked up, he saw the man named Anthony crouched over him.

“What are you doing here?” Anthony whispered. “They’re looking for you.”

Seth was in too much pain to speak. The man looked at Seth’s hand and leaned over him to whisper, “You need to get to the infirmary.”

“No! Please!” Seth managed to say through shudders of shock.

Lighter footsteps stumbled into the clearing, and the woman Maya put a cool hand to his forehead. She was pretty, with the caramel skin and the lovely full lips of an African woman. She saw his hand and winced. That’s when Seth noticed the bone of his pinkie finger poking through a small puncture in his skin. Purple blood pumped out through the wound in time with his wild heartbeat. He nearly fainted.

“Maya!” someone barked. Whoever it was sounded much too close.

Maya stood quickly and ran toward the voice. “Yah!”

“What was that sound?” It was the man she’d called Thomas. Seth could tell by his imperious tone.

“Anthony tripped,” Maya said.

Anthony held up his palms, telling Seth to stay put. Quickly, he grabbed some garden shears from the basket of fruit and used them to make a hole in the knee of his pants. Before Seth could react, Anthony jabbed the sharp end of the shears into his skin and pressed the cut with his fingertips, forcing it to bleed. In seconds he rubbed the blood into the fabric of his pants, then patted dirt all over himself and stood up. He limped toward where Maya and Thomas were talking, arms raised. “I fell onto my garden shears!” he said, shaking his head. “Stupid.”

“You two know the penalties for lying to the Justice of the Peace.”

Seth lay perfectly still between two large tree roots, silently absorbing the agony of his ruined hand, breathing as quietly as possible.

“Of course,” Anthony said breathlessly. “Thomas, you know me. I’m not going to make trouble.”

This was met with terse silence until Maya finally broke it. “God! Thomas! The suspicion on this ship is going to tear us all apart! Anthony is a good man! He doesn’t deserve this!”

Thomas still said nothing.

“Come on, Anthony,” Maya said, exasperated. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

“Okay,” Anthony said shakily.

Seth heard the two of them moving off toward the port-side exit. The big man didn’t make a sound. He’s listening for me, Seth thought, and he tried to hold his breath.

Thomas’s walkie-talkie squawked, and a man’s voice said, “Thomas, we’ve got tracks over here you should look at.”

“I’ll be right there,” Thomas said, but he still didn’t move.

Moments passed. Seth heard tentative footsteps picking through the brush toward him, and he braced himself. But suddenly, across the room, two gunshots rang out.

“What’s going on?” Thomas shouted.

“Don saw something!” called a third guard. Thomas took off running toward the sound of the shots, leaving Seth trembling with relief, wedged between two snaking banyan roots.

He lay still, he didn’t know for how long, trying to think what to do. He’d obviously missed his escape window, and now discovery was inevitable. Already he’d let Waverly down, but now he wondered what he’d thought he’d be able to do for her. Rescue her from the evil witch like some knight in shining armor? Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

He didn’t hear the footsteps until they were nearly on top of him. He looked up to see black pants and two white hands holding a gun across a robust chest. The guard crouched over Seth, the muzzle of his gun pointed at the ceiling. It was the stocky guard he’d seen before, a man of fifty-some years, with gray hair at his temples, speckled stubble across his jaw, and light brown eyes that seemed somehow kind. “Can you walk?” the guard whispered.

Seth stared at him.

“We have two minutes before my commanding officer figures out I’ve left my post. Can. You. Walk.”

Seth nodded.

“Get up. Keep your head down. And be quiet.”