The Fox Inheritance Page 55

Jenna offered to clean and bandage my back. The thought of her touching and bathing me while I was fully awake was tempting. Before the world turned upside down for all three of us, when we were just friends at school, I wanted so badly for her to notice me, not in the friend way that she already did, but in the same way I noticed her. The way I thought about her at night when I went to bed, thinking about her skin, her lips, her hair and how it smelled when I got close. Our friendship meant everything to me, but I couldn't help wondering about more. And sometimes at school, on the bench at lunch, sometimes she would linger, her shoulder touching mine more than it needed to, her eyes watching me a second longer than a friend's would, and I would wonder if maybe she was noticing me in more than the friend way too.

Hmmm.

I drop the washcloth and spin around in the shower. I wipe away a circle of steam on the glass door. The bathroom is empty. I open the door to be sure. Steam pours out into an empty room. Did I only hear the hum in my head? I grab the washcloth from the floor and hurry to finish washing, letting the shower spray in my ears.

I listen to Jenna out on the porch laughing at the antics of Dot and Kayla, and I turn off the water, grabbing a towel to dry myself. I don't want to keep her waiting. As I pull on my pants, I remember a line from a poem that Jenna always liked--all I could see from where I stood--and I wonder if she remembers it too. Or was it Kara who liked it? It's hard to remember.

Chapter 57

"I'm sorry about your back," Jenna whispers.

"My fault. I was warned. And you were right about the work. It did distract me."

We sit on a bench near the pond. The others have all gone to bed. When Jenna said she was going to take a walk to the greenhouse to get something, I said I would walk with her. We never made it to the greenhouse. I spotted what I thought was an enormous bright star, but Jenna told me it was the Galactic Radar Defense satellite. "Here, let me show you some of the new stars in the night sky." We whisper in the quiet about the twinkling lights above us.

"There. See that bluish one? That's the quarantine and border station for Mars travelers. Sort of an Ellis Island in space." She tells me that Mars was colonized a hundred fifty years ago, but only a couple of hundred thousand live there so far. It's a long trip and expensive, with a six-week quarantine period each way, so not too many people can be persuaded to make the journey.

"And over there, that reddish star is the remnants of Z65, an asteroid that was intercepted before it collided with our moon." She leans back. "But most are the same stars, same orbits, same everything, that our parents and grandparents and even Galileo looked at."

"Nice to know that at least some things don't change."

She doesn't respond for several seconds. "There's a lot that doesn't change, Locke."

Not from my perspective. Not right now. People, especially. "Why didn't you tell me you were part of the Network?"

"I'm not part of any--"

"Jenna, come on. I could shine a light in your face right now and see the backtracking all over it. You're trying to figure out how I know. I'll help you out. Dot spilled it. Allys confirmed it. And your meeting with Father Andre nailed it."

"Really, Locke. I'm not part of it. At least not anymore. I quit all that when I had Kayla."

"Just what is 'all that'? I really don't even know what the Network is. I only know some shady basement types helped us in Boston with some fake IDs."

"That's a good description. Shady basement types. That's basically it in a nutshell. The Network is just a very disorganized group of undergrounders who try to help others out."

"Since when did helping others have to be done in secret?"

"When you're helping people that others would prefer you didn't help."

"Like Non-pacts?"

"Among others. Non-pact has evolved into a catchall term for anyone who doesn't fit into the so-called norm."

Like me. "Are land pirates Non-pacts?"

"Who?"

I realize that's my own label for them. "I met what I thought were Non-pacts out in the middle of nowhere, and they called themselves pirates."

She nods like she understands exactly who I am talking about. "Yes, those would be Non-pacts," she says. "They choose a lot of different names for themselves. I can't say I blame them. Who would want to be given a label that makes them sound like they're a nonperson?"

"How does the Network help them?"

"Mostly they provide new IDs. Non-pacts are excluded from most public life. Buildings, transportation, even most roads. When they violate public space, they're tagged. The third violation results in removal to a camp in the desert for R and R--Reformation and Reassignment. But it's rare that anyone ever gets out of there or is heard from again."

I think about the man next to me at the train station who was grabbed by guards. Was he tagged like an animal that roams too close to human habitats? Or is he on his way to the desert for R and R? Is that where I would have ended up? Or maybe I don't even rate as high as a Non-pact, since I don't have that magic ten percent.

"Sounds like a decent cause. Why'd you quit?"

She sighs like it is a tired thought. "I worked for decades with Ethan and then Allys for legalization for those like us who didn't meet FSEB number standards. And then I worked decades after that on education because laws don't instantly change minds. I thought I was finally done for a while, but after the Civil Division, the Network contacted me for help, first with Non-pacts who were Runners, then with Bots who were Escapees, and then--"

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