GRAVE DIGGERS - Part IX

It's safe to say, this week did not go as I'd hoped it would. I had multiple blog posts and writing goals planned for this week, but all it took was one finicky 80-lb dog and a slippery deck to throw everything for a loop. So, I do have a sprained ankle, but luckily it's not as bad as it could have been. The good news is, now that I can successfully hobble around I'm going to get back on track.

I hope my American Writing Desk Readers have a great holiday weekend, and that everyone enjoys Part IX of Grave Diggers!

We're only one installment away from the novella finale! 

*****

GRAVE DIGGERS

Part IX: 


 Desi:

Puck spent the next few hours trying to resurrect the antique radio system. Desi remained nearby the whole time, ready to pass him a tool or hold a part steady as they were installed and removed and reinstalled again. Edmund soon returned, and occasionally poked his head into the room. Despite the help the soldier was giving them, Desi knew Edmund was still distrustful of their visitor. 

Eventually they reached the point where Puck had done all he could. Desi used the converter she and Artemis designed to hook the radio up to their own computer bank. They would need the system’s signal projection abilities to even have a hope of reaching anyone outside of the Nation.

“Let’s see if this thing is going to work.” Puck sat back on his heels.

Desi flipped a series of switches on the radio’s front panel. For the first few seconds, nothing happened. Then, gauge needles sprang up, attempting to calibrate after lying dormant for so many years. A sharp whine came from somewhere in the back of the device, causing them both to wince.

“It’s working!” Desi carefully adjusted a knob.

“It’s on at least.” He tapped one of the gauges. “How is the connection to the network?”

Desi checked. “It’s strong.” 

“Go ahead, then.” said Puck.

“What?” Desi blinked, as if she hadn't heard him.

“This is your project, see if you can reach anyone.”

She knelt in front of the radio, wiping her moist palms on her skirt. Tuning onto an open channel, she took the microphone in hand and clicked the button on its side. 

Desi wet her lips. “Testing…testing...if anyone can hear me, my name is Desdemona. I’m reaching out from the capital city of the Nation. If anyone in one of the other post-Quake nations can hear me, please respond.”

She paused, breath caught in her chest as they waited. The minutes ticked by, and only a faint stream of static came from the speaker.

Her shoulders slumped.

“It’s the first time you’ve reached out.” Puck cleared his throat. “I’m sure if you keep trying someone is bound to hear you.”

“You’re right.” She glanced up at him. “It was a lot to hope that someone would immediately respond.” She lifted the microphone again. “I repeat. If anyone hears this and can reply, we only want to communicate, to learn about other people outside of the Nation. Please don’t be afraid to contact us, we’ll be here.”

She put the microphone back on its hook, stood, and shook out her skirts. “Thank you for your help, Puck.” She smiled and held her hand out. “I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

Puck wrapped his hand around hers, letting her pull them down once. His arm didn't resist the gesture as much this time, maybe he was more relaxed this time around. 

It was time to let go, she started to loosen her grip, but he kept a tight grip on her hand. Desi knew most of the Citizen children, especially those raised by Council members, grew up with very little physical contact with their families. Intells were much more comfortable touching each other. An arm around a shoulder, a passing hug, even their use of hand-clasping. It was probably so alien to him.

“Puck?” Desi asked.

“Yes?”

“Can I have my hand back now?” She wiggled her fingers..

Puck's face reddened and he let go. “My apologies.”

Desi shook her head. “You don’t touch people very often, do you?”

Before Puck answered her, Edmund poked his head into the room. “Any luck?”

“We were able to get a message out.” Desi said. “But no answer so far.”

“That’s still progress!” Edmund beamed. “Artemis will be pleased to hear it.”

Puck said, “I should be going. I’m glad I was able to help with this.” He waved a hand over the crackling radio with a chuckle. “I can’t believe we got that thing to work.”

“Thank you again, Puck.” Desi smiled.

Puck nodded and Edmund walked him out.

*****

“He’s going to another meeting, isn’t he?” Edmund peered out one of the front windows, watching Artemis walk quickly down the dark street.

“Yes.” Desi sighed. She rubbed her eyes and lowered the book she’d been trying to read. It was impossible for her to concentrate. Puck had helped her fix the radio nearly five days ago and he hadn’t been back. No communication at all. It left a nagging kernel of worry at the back of her mind.

“That makes every night for the past week.” Her cousin grumbled. “What could be so important that the Elders have to meet every night?”

“If you don’t know by now, then you haven’t been paying attention.” Setting the book aside, she unfolded herself from her favorite chair and shuffled into the kitchen.

“Would you like some tea, Edmund?”

“Sure.” He trailed behind her. “What makes you think I haven’t been paying attention?”

Desi declined to answer. She filled a tea kettle from the sink and placed it on the stove to boil.

“I know you’ve been worried about being drafted next year,” She grabbed two mugs and plunked them onto the counter. “But there are bigger forces at work right now. Conscription should be the least of your worries.”

Someone, most likely her father, had moved the tea canister to a shelf Desi couldn’t reach.

“Would you mind?” Desi pointed at the metal container sitting just out of her reach.

Edmund grabbed the tea from the shelf and held it just above Desi’s head.

She sighed. Edmund had been playing this trick on her since his first growth-spurt.

“That’s not funny.”

“Maybe not from where you’re standing.” He grinned, giving the canister a quick shake.

Desi envisioned a month’s worth of tea leaves falling onto her head. “You do realize, don’t you, that with your arms above your head I could easily hit you in an unpleasant location?”

The tea magically appeared in Desi’s hands. She smirked at her blushing cousin.

“Thank you.” She prepped a wire tea strainer for each mug, balancing them across the rims of the cups. The bitter smell of raw tea wafted from the canister as she scooped out the leaves.

After retreating to the safety of the kitchen table, Edmund spoke up. “Do you think we’ll have to leave?”

Desi’s smile was meant to be reassuring, but judging by the pinched look on Edmund’s face, it wasn’t having the desired effect. “I don’t know. If we do leave, at least we know there are plenty of places we could go.” She snorted. “The Grave Diggers have cleared much of the land out for us.”

Soon the shrill whistle of the kettle interrupted them. Removing the kettle from the heat, she poured steaming water through the strainers. The color of the tea grew to a bright amber as it steeped.

She brought both mugs to the table and sat down. Edmund didn’t wait very long before removing the strainer from his mug. Desi waited, she liked her tea much darker.

“What about Commander Puck?” Edmund asked.

“What about him?” Desi removed the strainer from her own tea and blew gently across the top of the liquid.

“Will he be coming with us if we leave?”

“Why on earth would he be coming with us? He’s the Commander of a Grave Digger squad. His father is on the Council, the Council. Just because he was kind to us doesn’t mean he’s going to be sympathetic to our cause, Edmund.”

“Not necessarily. Why else would he have gone through the trouble to help us more than once?” He frowned.

“It’s been nearly a week since he was last here.” She reminded him gently. “I think if he wanted to know more about us he would have been back by now. For all we know he could have already told one of his superiors about his visit, and how do you think that might affect us?”

“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing too much at him.” He snapped.

Desi stood, her chair scrapping across the floor. “Or, maybe the shock was just what he needed to see the lies they’ve been force-feeding him his whole life. He could show up tomorrow to arrest us, or join us, or he could never set foot in the Village again. Either way, we’ll never know until something, or nothing, happens.”

“I thought you liked him.” Edmund muttered.

“What?”

“I thought you liked him. I saw the way you looked at him when we were talking on the street that first time, when he came all the way down here just to bring you what you asked for, when he spent hours helping you fix that damned radio. I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were. And yes, I do like him, but—”

“Well you’re doing a pretty shitty job of showing it!” Edmund stood too, his chair tipped behind him and clattered onto the floor. “You act like you don’t care what happens to him. Sure we haven’t known him long, but he’s the only soldier who’s ever done anything remotely nice for us, doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Desi planted her fists on the table. “I’m sorry if I don’t have as sunny a view of the world as you do, Edmund, but it’s time you realized that this isn’t how things should be. We shouldn’t have to race the military to archeological sites to snatch up the tiniest bit of history, but we do. We shouldn’t be worrying about if one soldier is going to sell us out to the Council for trying to preserve our identity as human beings, but we are.

“Artemis shouldn’t spend every night in meetings with the Elders to decide if we’re going to have to run away or not because the Council has been slowly shutting us out. This is not what we deserve, and if you’ve been accepting all of this as how the world works then you’re just as brainwashed as every person in the Spire!”

Without another word, Edmund picked his chair up and walked out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Desi could feel the wood of the table digging into her knuckles. Good. It was a distraction. Sinking down again, she gripped a handful of her own braids and pulled, trying to ease the pressure in the back of her skull.

The cousins had never had a fight like that before, not that she could remember.  

She picked up her mug to finally have her first sip of tea, hoping it would calm her, but it had already gone cold. 

*****

Puck:

The training days leading up to a Reclamation mission were crucial. Squads checked their equipment, studied the layout of the mission site, and ran through formation drills based on the terrain they would be encountering.

Puck arrived early to the training facility, as was his habit, but his mind wasn’t focused on the mission ahead. Instead, his thoughts kept drifting back to the Intell Village, to a group of people he’d never given a second thought until recently, and to a certain pair of bright blue eyes. He’d wanted to contact Desi a hundred times over the last week, but everything he’d written down sounded flat and mechanical. The easiest thing to do would be to go to the Village again, but that would have to wait until this next mission was over.   

Lost in thought, Puck didn’t even hear Sergeant Abalos until a large hand landed on his shoulder.

“Commander Puck?” The Sergeant’s broad face came into focus. “Can you hear me, son?”

“I…Yes, my apologies sir.” Puck snapped into a salute. “I was focused on my squad’s upcoming mission.”

The Sergeant still looked puzzled, but didn’t press him. “Your preparations for this mission will have to wait. You’ve been summoned to the Spire.”

“Summoned?” A thousand possible reasons ran like tickertape through Puck’s brain. Chief among them, the fact that he had been accessing military records without notifying his superiors. Also the trips he’d made to the Village. But neither of these things were crimes, not that he knew of.

“What about my squad?”

“I’ll oversee their preparatory training until you return. I’m sure whatever reason they’ve called you in for won’t take long.”

“Right.” Puck saluted again and turned on his heel. His booted feet thudded dully on the concrete-covered ground. He went straight to the train that would take him to the Spire. The ride to the center of the city was quiet, but Puck wasn’t able to enjoy the motion of the rails this time.

Puck was flanked by two Spire guards as soon as he badged his way into the tower. Without a word, they escorted him to the elevator.

A cold sweat broke out along the back of Puck's neck. He knew where they were going. The uppermost floors housed the private offices of Council members, and there was only one Council member who would specifically ask for him like this.

Hilliard.

The elevator doors slid open, and their silent, three-man party walked down the thick-carpeted corridor. The view of the open-air tower center was dimmed by a layer of tinted glass.

They came to a stop in front of a nondescript office door with a silver number “2” mounted above it. One of the guards scanned his badge through the reader, releasing a series of locks. Their ominous clicks echoed down the empty hallway.

The guards motioned for Puck to enter. He pushed the door open to reveal a waiting room, with an empty reception desk on one end and a row of chairs on the other. Sitting in one of the plush chairs along the wall, was Desdemona.

“What the…” Puck’s step faltered and one of the guards had to push him forward to stop the three of them from colliding.

“Please wait here.” The guard who pushed him said. The door close behind him, and the locks slide back into place.

Desi and Puck stared at each other. Her long obsidian braids were swept back from her face, grey skirts arranged neatly around her on the chair, and her brown leather bag rested on the floor by her feet.

“What are you doing here?” Puck dropped into the chair next to her, keeping the door leading to the inner office in his line of sight.

“I received a summons at our house early this morning.” She spoke softly. Her blue eyes darted up to the security cameras mounted in the corners of the ceiling.

Puck nodded almost imperceptibly. Of course, they were being recorded.

“They asked for my father too, but he was already out.”

“I see.” Puck sat farther back in his chair, feet planted squarely on the floor. “Do you know why they summoned you?”

Desi shook her head.

This was not how Puck had been hoping their next meeting would go. A rendezvous in his father’s office was not what he'd envisioned.

They sat in silence for a while, before she reached down and grabbed her satchel off the floor.

“I have something for you. It took a while to find, and I was planning on bringing it to you next week but…” She frowned briefly at one of the cameras. “No time like the present.” 

Puck waited for her to produce this mysterious gift, but she clasped her hands on top of the bag instead.

“Do you know where your name comes from?” Desi asked.

“Um…” Puck blinked. “From the government naming database.”

“Why do you think the government generates a name for each person born in the Nation?”

“So there wouldn’t be any Citizens of the Nation with the same name.” Puck recited. “To avoid confusion.”

Desi sighed. “Do you really know where your name came from, though? Where it originated before it was put into a computer program and spat back out again?”

“I don’t understand.”

She reached into her bag, pulling out a slim booklet bound in moss green paper. The edges were faded and brittle with age, only a portion of the words printed on the front were still legible:

-- Midsummer Night’s Dr---

“Here.” She offered the booklet. “It’s for you.”

“What is it?” Puck held the object gently, afraid the paper would crumble if he gripped it too hard. A faint cracking sound came from the book’s spine when he opened it to the first page, followed by the exotic smells of old paper and ink.

“It’s a play.” Desi said. “It was popular for a long time, and one of the lead characters is named Puck.” She smiled when he gawked at her. “Before the Quake, parents chose the names for their children, not the government. More often than not, names were passed down through families, or came from favored books and plays, or religious texts. My name is from a play too.” 

She watched Puck flip slowly through the pages. He knew what plays were but had never seen one in print before.

The language was flowery and hard to decipher at first, but he wanted to know more about this Puck, this Robin Goodfellow, with whom he shared a name.

He gazed at Desi.

“I don’t know what to say. I couldn’t take this from your collection.”

“Think of it as a small thank you for all of the help you’ve given us.”

For just a moment, Puck forgot where they were and reached out to take her hand.

“Desi, I wanted to ask you…”

She jumped as the door locks clicking open. Puck snatched his hand away from hers and slid the play book into the inside pocket of his uniform jacket.

One of the guards had returned. He swept an arm towards the inner office door.

“The Councilman will see you now.”

*****

TBC...

© Courtney Carter, http://writingdeskblog.blogspot.com, 2018