Numbers Ignite by Rebecca Rode Page B

happiness.”
    “Well, as harbinger, I have greater responsibilities than most.” She stood and opened the medicine cabinet, placed her supplies carefully inside, and then closed it. The lock clicked into place. For the first time, I wondered why she locked it. There were no young children here. What if somebody needed medical attention and she wasn’t around to open it?
    Of course she locks it. Some medications can be dangerous. She’s just being a good physician.
    I stood and slipped on my boots. She watched me silently. Finally, I started to leave.
    “Look, Amy,” she said as I reached the door. “Forget that I’m the harbinger. Forget what Coltrane wants you to do. I just want you to think. You want peace, a new life, to be happy. We can give you all that.”
    “It’s not that at all.”
    “But it is. You’ve proven yourself to be a good, decent, peaceable member of our community. Your contribution is changing minds all over the place. All you need to do is present your skills to the elders and you’ll be accepted. Then the people will be forced to see you as you really are.” She paused. “There are other boys here your age. Better ones.”
    “I need to go,” I said. “It’s nearly time for school to start.”
    She stood, frowning. “Just consider it. We’ll talk later.”
     

     
    Today Mandie had come with more gossip about Belgium and the Nations for Peace. I gave her five minutes to recount what she’d heard, trying to focus on her words but understanding about half the references.
    As she spoke, Ruby placed a glass vase on the table. Ruby had managed to fit several vines with orange flowers into it, and they cascaded beautifully down the vase.
    When Mandie took a breath, I plunged in. “Thanks for the update. We’re lucky you can get the all the latest news from Maxim. We’ll practice writing our names again today.” I held up the stick I’d been using to trace letters in the dirt floor.
    “That’s boring,” Clara said, twisting one braid around her finger. “Everyone already knows my name. When will I ever need to write it down?”
    “Well, what if you left this place? Out there, you’ll need to know this stuff.”
    Mandie snorted. “Right. My mom won’t even let me go up on my year day. She says the air is poisonous or something.”
    “That’s ridiculous. I’ve lived out there my whole life. The air is bad in certain places, yes, but those areas are far away.”
    “Like three or five days of walking?” the younger of the boys, Calvin, asked.
    I’d seen the images of war-torn Old America. Piles of bodies soaked in fuel, then lit on fire. Blackened cities and farms. Endless streets, abandoned cars resting bumper to bumper. Toxic lakes and rivers. “Like three or five months,” I told him. “I don’t know if you could even walk there.”
    “How did Old America fall?” Clara asked. “Will you tell us what happened?”
    “I’m only here to teach the basics,” I said with a shrug. “Your parents will tell you all about it if you ask them.”
    “No, they won’t,” Mandie said. “I even asked Maxim. Nobody will tell me anything. Please?”
    I hesitated, remembering Lillibeth’s warning. “If they don’t want to tell you about it, then I’d better not.”
    “You said it yourself,” Clara replied evenly. “We need to know writing in case we ever have to leave here, right? Don’t you think we should know what’s up there for the same reason?”
    Fates. The children’s faces were so eager, so interested. I looked at their older siblings, who were pretending to write words in the dirt or examining their nails, and made a decision. “I guess I can tell you a little about it. Just the history though.”
    “Yes!” Calvin said, settling back for a story. The older siblings perked up, and every eye in the room was on me. Even Ruby watched, though with a wary expression. She knew as well as I did that I was getting myself into trouble here.
    I shoved away the