Chapter 88:

When Barhon first started speaking, Vek had been too furious to listen. He didn’t like being stalked and marked, and he especially didn’t like being tied up. But hemmed in as he was by the other serfs, Vek didn’t have much of a choice but to sit there, and Barhon was at least polite enough, personable even, to smooth over Vek’s sense of humiliation at his hands.

Besides, what Barhon was saying was actually crazy. Vek couldn’t help but demand an explanation.

“What do you mean, you want me to join you?”

“Just that,” Barhon replied. “We’re forming Servies and Soldiers Syndicates and we want you to join us.”

“Why me?”

“I think you know.”

A chill went down Vek’s back. Did Barhon – did the other serfs here – did they know about Vek’s father?

“I can’t help you,” Vek replied, slowly, carefully. “I won’t turn on Lady Nari.”

“Even if it meant you no longer had to hide?”

Vek’s blood turned cold. They did know. Rock-god, he’d kept it a secret for so long, he’d told so few people, and these strangers, these perfect strangers he’d never heard of before, they knew, they knew –

“Think about it,” Barhon said. His voice was soft, almost alluring. “Aren’t you tired of never being quite enough? Of always having to prove yourself true to the tribe?”

Vek closed his eyes. He breathed in and out, squirming a little in his too-small seat. “Can I – if you want me to join you – at least untie me?”

Barhon studied him, then gestured to one of the other serfs – an Eenta – who knelt and cut loose Vek’s bonds. Rubbing his wrists, keeping his mutilated hand under the other, Vek shifted again in his seat, trying to find a slightly more comfortable position on the tiny chair they’d pushed him into. At the same time, he chanced a surreptitious glance around. Beneath his feet were brightly colored carpet tiles. To his left across the room was the door to the night nursery. To his right, next to the Eenta who had cut his ties, was a Chenta. At least three more serfs were behind him, and another two behind Barhon.

There was no way out. Vek would have to do his best to bluff his way through. Not easy, when it was all he could do to keep his hands from shaking, all he could do to keep from bursting into explanation after explanation, endless justifications… it wasn’t my fault, it was Father, my Mother’s husband, he let it happen to her, he arranged it, it wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t my fault…

Barhon was still studying him. “What do you say?”

Vek tried to think. “You really think people will join a Servies and Soldiers Syndicate?”

“They already are.”

That surprised Vek. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t read the third pamphlet.”

Vek hung his head. Zedid and Op had said the same thing to him. For vastly different reasons, of course, but it was nonetheless humiliating to hear it again. Of course you should read it, Vek, as Lady Nari’s agents we have a duty to keep up with any forces against her! And then from Op – what do you mean you haven’t read it yet? You’re supposed to be tracking the writer of these pamphlets down, how can you possibly do that without knowing what she’s writing?

“No, I haven’t,” he muttered.

Someone behind him laughed. Vek turned and shot a glare over his shoulder. The Chenta who had laughed put up his hands in apology. “Never mind him,” Vek heard Barhon say. “Here, here’s a copy.”

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A pamphlet was thrust into his hands. Unwillingly, Vek began reading the serf letters up and down the page. Most of it was railing against the Golden Castle that still lived, but a portion in the middle caught his attention. Sisters, why do we divide ourselves into servies and soldiers, Chenta and Eenta? Are we ruled by the Rajas still? Let us cast off the chains they have placed upon us and recognize that it is on our backs that the bio-dome is built. We, the servies and soldiers, we, the ones who were torn from our villages and our families, we, the rightful heirs to the Uprising!

Vek swallowed. This was why he’d started avoiding the pamphlets, why he’d refused to accept Zedid’s offer to get him a copy of the third one, it was because of this, this call, this stirring inside his heart, this fire building up, this sense that the writer was speaking not only truth but hope and life and rock-god, Vek couldn’t think that way, it was damnable, it was disloyal, it was dangerous…

Tell me, sisters, what does a Chenta doctor-priest have in common with a Chenta servie? What does an Eenta regent have in common with an Eenta soldier? Hard hours and hard meals are the lot of the servie and the soldier both – and hard words too. While the doctor-priest and the regent, they used to be called by the same term, kalpate, servants of the Rajas. They make no distinction amongst themselves because they live the same lives. Why should we, who live even more similarly to each other, fight amongst ourselves? For their benefit? For the benefit of the Golden Castle?

Vek couldn’t continue. “What do you want from me?”

“We told you. We want you to join us.”

“But what does that mean? What do you want me to do?”

Barhon reached out and grasped Vek by the shoulder. Vek was forced to sit up straight and look Barhon in the face. “We’re so glad you asked,” Barhon said, smiling. “Listen, and we’ll tell you exactly what we need.”

***

In the end, Vek didn’t feel like he had any choice but to say yes. Yes, I will write false reports. Yes, I will feed bad intelligence to Lady Nari. Yes, I will join a Servies and Soldiers Syndicate. Can I go now, please?

If Vek had been feeling cheeky, he would have added another yes: Yes, I understand you will be watching me. But joking around was the last thing Vek felt like doing. All he really wanted to do now was hide – from everybody. Because what was he supposed to do now? It was bad enough that Vek had yet to update Anzana’s Free Serf file. How could he falsify a report to Op?

“Vek,” he heard Hurez call him from across the lounge. “Come, I need to speak to you too.”

“No,” Vek replied.

“In Anzana’s absence, I’ve been appointed squad leader. Get over here.”

Vek buried his head in his hands. Could things get any worse? Now how was he supposed to get anything done? Hurez would never allow Vek to get out of squad duties the way Anzana had – oh Anzana – Anzana –

“Hey, it’s okay,” he heard Iolo say softly. Vek forced himself to look at his squadmate; he didn’t want, after all, to seem suspicious. “It’s okay,” Iolo said again. “We’re all worried about Anzana. You’re not alone.”

The Uprising really had changed Iolo. Accepting Iolo’s outstretched hand with his whole hand, Vek made his way across the lounge to the conversation pit beside the firelightplace where the rest of his squad had gathered. “Obviously, something’s happened to Anzana,” Hurez was saying to Jethra as they approached. “We don’t know what, but we have to be careful. Things have been off balance lately. Those pamphlets going around…” he shook his head.

Oh Anzana…

“But they did find the magistrate printing those pamphlets, so –”

Vek’s head snapped up. “What did you just say?”

Hurez looked startled. “Just that they found the magistrate who was printing the pamphlets, so no more pamphlets will be coming out. I mean, they were saying the magistrate probably wasn’t the pamphlet-writer herself, that she was just printing them for the writer, so I suppose the writer could find another magistrate to print more pamphlets for her –”

“How did you hear about all this?” Vek demanded.

Now Hurez looked annoyed. “Listen, Vek, I know you think you’re a big deal now, but I’m your squad leader –”

“Answer my question.”

Hurez blinked. “They… they told us at a squad leader meeting… just now…”

“Where was the printing press found?”

“In Woodheart Castle.”

“I have to go,” Vek announced. He didn’t bother to say farewell to Hurez or to the rest of his squad. Instead, he took off, almost running out of the lounge. It had been five diurnals since he’d been accosted by Barhon, and nine diurnals since Anzana had given up Barhon’s name. If Vek could find the pamphlet-writer now, he’d be done. He could leave Anzana’s file unupdated and never mention Barhon to anyone and it wouldn’t matter! After all, Op had never told him to do anything but find the writer of the pamphlets. Vek had certainly never been directed to uncover and reveal the existence of a whole new movement.

Still moving as fast as he could, Vek thought through who he knew at Woodheart. Xeta would let him bunk up with her, and so would Yenali. Maybe even Patine too. He’d check in with them, look around a bit, and see what he could find.

Everything needed to go away, even if just for a little bit. Surely Vek could find something to help make that happen.