Page 29 of Sparktopia
And then Gemna has her arms around the both of us and this is how we stay. Silent, and all curled up together, and sleepy. Like it’s just another hot afternoon and nothing special at all is happening tonight.
Haryet sighs again, and this time it’s a heavy one. I can tell she wants to say something, but can’t find the words. So I prod her on. I might never get another chance to have a private conversation with this woman, and this hurts me. I want all the words from Haryet right now. “What, Haryet? What are you not saying?”
“Oh… never mind.”
Gemna rolls over onto her side. “No. Tell us.” Gemna must feel the same way as I do because she adds, “Please,” to the end of that sentence.
“It’s just… unfair. And I know that’s a stupid thing to say because I’m number eight. And it was always unfair, right? But… I don’t understand this, girls. I don’t get it. Why? Why does the god in the tower need so many of us? What has changed? Why now? Why not last time? I mean, it’s just…”
“Unfair,” I add. Because it is.
“It’s more than unfair,” Haryet continues. “It’s pointless. Why do we need that god anyway? What does he do for us?”
Gemna kinda snickers. “Well, come on, Haryet. He gives us power. The spark is how everything runs around here.”
“Not everything,” Haryet counters. “Down-city doesn’t have spark power.”
“The farms do,” I add. “The greenhouses do. That’s how we get food. I mean, the climate here is pretty messed up. Without power how would we irrigate the fields? How would we keep the orchards warm at night?”
“Fire?” Haryet says. “And… well, I don’t know about irrigation. But if the people in down-city can manage to live their whole lives without elevators, and electric lights, and hot water from the faucets, couldn’t weallmanage that?”
I shrug. “Sounds pretty depressing though, doesn’t it?”
“You say that because you were born up-city. You don’t know any different. But are these small luxuries worth the price of a woman?”
“Of course not,” I say, slightly miffed at the turn in conversation. “I would trade all of it to save you.”
Haryet turns her head towards me, her eyes less sad now, more resigned to her fate. “And I you, Clara.”
“But that’s all just a fantasy,” Gemna adds. “Woulda, coulda, shoulda. We can’t change it, girls. All we can do is meet our fate with grace.”
I know what Haryet’s thinking. Because I’m thinking the same thing. It’s easy for Gemna to say that because she’s number ten. She’s not going into the tower tonight, nor is she next in line. There’s still a possibility that I don’t go in. I mean, there are only three months left. It’s a pretty good possibility, actually.
But the chance of Gemna going in feels far away. A lot farther than three months.
If I don’t go in, then she’s definitely not going in. There is room to spare in her mind. And this extra space between fates is enough to give her hope.
I don’t think I possess that same hope. I feel like it’s all about to be ripped away.
Haryet smiles at me. “I wish I had someone like you, Clara.”
“What do you mean?”
“Finn. He’s the Master now. If those bells ring for you, he would save you. You’re so lucky.”
I don’t say anything to that. It hadn’t even occurred to me. Probably because his position is so new and came with such emotional trauma, I haven’t had time to properly think about it. Would Finn intervene? If the bells rang for me?
It’s a nice dream and we all lie on Haryet’s bed, picturing this fantastical turn of events, for about an hour. But the maids return, sneaking in through some back door, bustling through the room and getting things ready. There’s no way to put off what’s coming. No one is coming to save her.
Haryet must be dressed. Gemna and I must be dressed. There is a dinner, and a gala, and then, of course, the Extraction itself.
This is reality and we live in it.
So I end up back in my own rooms, with my own maids, standing in front of my own mirror.
But that little bit of calm we conjured up while lying in Haryet’s bed stays with me.
And I spend the rest of the afternoon daydreaming about how, if I am called for duty, Finn Scott would step in and save me.
