Page 66 of The Last Hope
But here and now, my stomach tumbles in nervous patterns. I perspire worse, tunic suctioning to my breasts. I waft the fabric.
I’m less frightened at unleashing this secret forsecrecy’ssake. Mostly, I’m anxious to share this with Stork. Someone who may not understand. Who may poke fun. Driving is such a big part of my old life.
With Zimmer, I blurted out my past almost too easily. He was a Fast-Tracker. Something familiar.
Stork is the opposite, and his unfamiliarity both excites and terrifies me.
Standing side by side, Court and Mykal are quiet, not about to share my old job without approval. Court senses my uneasiness and tells Stork, “No significant reason.”
My stomach clenches at the lie.
Stork doesn’t prod. “Humans can’t be younger than fourteen to drive or pilot.”
Fourteen?I was capable of drivingmuchearlier than fourteen—maybe all these humans are underestimating themselves.
“You were fourteen when you first sat behind a wheel?” I ask him.
He grins. “An exception was made for me. I started at eight.”
Same age as me.I consider telling him, but nerves attack my insides. Shifting uneasily, I pull my feet on the bench.
“What about reproduction?” Court asks.
Stork appraises him in a long sweep. “You were a doctor,” he states as plainly as Court did to him about Saltarians not being allowed an admiral position. Mykal and I already agreed that both are too clever for their own good.
Court looks humorless. “Reproduction—”
“Is identical,” Stork cuts in. “We all reproduce the same way. Sorry to broach this, dove, but…” He rotates to speak directly to me. “The fleet nurses asked about your cycle and you said you didn’t understand.”
I shrug, confusion compounding with Mykal and Court. “It’s an odd question.”
Stork thinks for half a second, staring at the domed ceiling. His blues fall to me. “Your bleeding.”
He’s not referring to mynosebleeding. “Right, that. I never had a bleeding in the brig—andnotbecause I’m with child,” I add quickly. “I’ve been malnourished.” Court calmed my paranoid fears back in the brig. I thought I might’ve been dying inside; I’d never missed a bleeding before.
No one says anything.
“Right?” I question my rational thinking.
“Did Court tell you about malnourishment?” Stork wonders.
“Maybe…” I feel like we’re all playing an Influential board game, and I’m the chump trailing behind.
Stork unconsciously touches his sapphire earring, shaped in what he said was ablue jay.“Growing up, who told you about bleedings?”
“Are you afraid I’ve been told wrong? Have I been?”Stop panicking, Franny.I bite the inside of my mouth and scowl.
Very softly, Stork says, “I reckon you weren’t told a lot.”
So I’m not wrong.
Just uneducated.
Court has a pitying melancholy that lowers him onto a bench. Sitting beside him, Mykal leaves his bowl behind and opens a pack of cigarettes, breathing harsh breaths. He’s not enjoying our emotions.
“Court?” I ask.
“You didn’t know there could be other reasons you missed a bleeding,” he reminds me.
