I couldn’t believe my ears.
Caretaker.
The worst of all possible jobs in the Hive.
I lunged toward my best friend Noah, who was standing there with his mouth open. Giant Digger claws grabbed me from behind and pulled me toward the opening to the Hive. It had always been my home. Noah and I had dreamed about our futures here, how we’d be important men, respected by all the Masters for how hard we worked. He was going to be a Diver, and I was going to be a Gardener. Together, we would provide food for the whole Hive, securing our honor among the Masters and the Lowforms.
Everything crashed down in that instant.
I shook off the Digger that was hauling me toward the Hive, and clicked to it. “I go.”
It released me and I turned back to the sunlight one final time. Noah stood there across the sandy plateau, along with Gil and Jerome. The pity on Noah’s face made me want to throw up. Beyond them, waves crashed into the shore, throwing white foam up against the rocks around the beach. The air smelled of salt and shellfish, fresh and wild. Sunlight played on the ocean as far as I could see.
Never again.
I took a last, deep breath and turned into the dark doorway for the last time.
The walls closed in around me as I trudged deep into the Hive, the Digger at my back. It had never felt like this before. I’d always welcomed the safety of our thick walls, and the protection of our brave Soldiers. I’d be safe in the Mothers’ Hall for the rest of my life. Safe in the dark, underground chamber full of screaming babies. Safe from the fresh air above, from the sunlight, from the water. Safe from everything that made it a life. Forever.
The turnoff to the Mothers’ Hall was guarded by two more Diggers. My protectors, now. I hadn’t been beyond this tunnel since they brought me out as a little child. I had no memory of my mother or father. Were they still here? Would they know me when I came back? I’d soon find out.
The Diggers let me pass. I entered the dark tunnel.
Along each side, smaller rooms held women with babies. Up ahead, sound echoed out of a larger chamber. I didn’t know where to go or what to do, so I just walked ahead. The corridor was dark, lit by the occasional glowstone. Dim light filtered from ahead, and as I passed the side rooms, women came shuffling out. They wore long tunics like me, and had their hair braided into elaborate coils. They were every shade of skin color, just like the Lowform boys I’d grown up with.
At the end of the hallway I entered a large, open room. A few open shafts obviously led to the surface, sunlight beaming in through narrow shafts, making bright points on the smooth, hard floor. Toddlers ran around, and babies cried from every hip.
A man blocked my way.
“You the new one?”
I shrank back from him. He was old, maybe twenty-five. Brown like me, with a single long braid of hair down his back. He looked strong and his eyes held no welcome.
“I’m Chen. Caretaker.” I tried to act proud about my Ranking. Taking care of the women and babies was important. Without babies, there would be no Lowform workers. And we did so much around the Hive.
“Chen,” the man said. He turned to the women clustering around me. “It’s Chen!” he called. “Anybody know Chen?”
A girl a little older than me squealed and ran up to me. She wrapped her arms around me, squishing the baby she carried between us. It cried and I pulled away, staring at the girl.
“Chen!” she cried. “You’re my brother!”
I didn’t even know the word.
“We had the same mother,” she explained. “She was older, and was taken up a few years ago, but she remembered the names of all her children.” She beamed at me. “I’m Glenna.” She hoisted the baby up to my face. “And this is Lee, who’s your nephew.”
She ushered me farther into the room. Everyone wanted to be close to me, hands reaching out to touch me. I realized this must be the most exciting thing that ever happened down here . . . when a new boy was sentenced to life in the darkness. Next time someone was Ranked as Caretaker, it would be me pressing forward with the women and babies, wanting to see the new arrival, maybe hear stories of the outside world I was locked away from.
Glenna hugged me again. My sister. Holding my nephew. I still didn’t really understand what that meant, but it seemed important to her.
“Come and meet Shari,” she said, pulling my hand. “She’s your sister, too.”
A very pregnant woman waddled over and threw her arms around me in a sweaty hug. I tried not to squirm, but I’d lived my whole memory with other boys my age. We weren’t huggers. The woman’s belly pressed into mine and the horror on my face must have shown.
“Chen,” Shari said, hand on her stomach. “I’m so glad you’re here. We needed a male with your bloodline.” She glanced at the man who had met me at the entrance. “Need to keep track.”
There were a few other men around, and an older boy I remembered from a few Rankings back.
They looked happy.
I’d expected a miserable bunch, withering away in darkness. But their faces shone with joy and welcome.
Shari and Glenna ushered me to a seat on the ground near one of the sun rays. The rest of the people sat around in a circle. Older toddlers ran around the group, playing with the hard-shelled remains of the waterbugs that must have been their breakfast. Maybe the ones Noah had helped me collect.
I thought about him, outside awaiting his fate. He’d make Diver for sure. My heart filled with pride for him. My best friend, a Diver. I would think of him with every shellfish I ever ate.
“Oh, Chen,” Glenna said. “We’re so happy you’re here. There’s so much we need to tell you.”
I looked at my sister. The sunlight cast long shadows under her eyes. In her arms, the baby slept, tiny hands gripping one of the skinny braids that hung from Glenna’s head.
“I’m happy to be here,” I lied. “Here with my nephew.” I thought that was the right word.
She beamed down at the baby for a moment, before her eyes turned serious and she met my gaze.
“Down here, we remember,” she said. “Chen, what we’re going to tell you won’t be easy to hear. But it’s the truth, and it comes straight from the stars.”
Her eyes held mine. “Everything you’ve been told your whole life has been a lie.”