Page 15 of Undone
“As you see, we have many soldiers.” She pointed around at the Baelese men who oversaw the children now. “But we cannot spare any of them to teach at this time. You do not need to be concerned with behavioral issues from the children. That is not a problem for our kind.” She said it with absolute venom, and I had to school my face not to reveal the disgust and anger I felt. I forced a nod.
The children were all playing. Sort of. Some were building meticulous structures with wooden blocks and Legos. Others worked on more difficult building sets with smaller parts, and beginner circuit boards. The creating they did was all mathematical. Planned. Not just for fun. Not from their imaginations. There was no laughter. No smiling. For a room full of children, it was too quiet.
I wanted to cry.
My body felt stiff as I followed Vahni to an L-shaped lacquered desk with every office supply imaginable displayed neatly. Teaching books and materials were lined on a shelf behind the desk. My heart began to thump at the sight of the books, because I’d never taught reading. I was only halfway through my teaching certification classes. I honestly had no idea what I was doing, and I told Vahni as much.
She pulled the teacher’s edition of the reading book off the shelf and pushed it into my hands. “You have this afternoon and evening to acquaint yourself.”
Gee. Seven hours to learn how to teach. No problem.
Vahni explained her expectations, and I listened, trying really hard to concentrate. When she was finished, she asked, “Any questions?”
I swallowed and took a breath. “What about the human children? Will I be teaching them as well?”
Her face tightened. “Of course not.”
Again, sour, seething disgust trickled through me like acid.
Of course not.
The evilness of Vahni and her race overwhelmed me all over again as an image of the future for humanity swam into my mind. No education. No family units. Just . . . servants.
“Line up, children!” she called out.
Like robots, without a moment of hesitation, every single child stopped what they were doing and lined up from youngest to oldest, I was guessing by their sizes. Even the toddlers and preschoolers made their way, albeit a tiny bit slower than the others. But I refused to let myself be impressed by these obedient creatures. This was not normal. Give me a toddler so wrapped up in playing that they had to be dragged away by an adult.Thatwas normal. Annoying, maybe, but natural.
Vahni led me to the front of the line. “Children, this is your teacher, Ms. Haines. You will say hello.”
“Hello, Ms. Haines,” they said. Shivers popped up on my arms. They sounded like human kids. Small, cute voices.
“Hello,” I said, forcing a smile, which nobody returned. They all just stared at me.
“We will go down the line and each of you will tell Ms. Haines your name.”
I walked down the line, looking each child in the eye as they said their strange names. Bashile. Loden. Midrik. It would take me a while to learn them. When we got to the end of the line, Vahni said, “You may return to your activities. School will begin in the morning.”
At that moment, the double doors opened, and my heart jumped at the sight of Senator Navis striding in, wearing his signature pressed gray slacks and crisp button-up shirt. The top button was undone, and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows. His dark waves lay neatly back. He could have been on the cover ofGQ Magazine, for real.
Vahni pursed her lips at the sight of them, and her expression only got tighter as the children yelled, “Bahntan!” and raced over to surround him. I was momentarily stunned that they could raise their voices and move that fast. The Senator laughed and picked up a toddler boy, setting him on his hip. The boy looked at him worshipfully. The other children stared up, as well, as if he might impart some sort of wisdom on them. The entire sight made my insides shake with dread, and I had to clasp my hands together.
“What does that mean?” I whispered. “Bahntan?”
With her disapproving gaze never leaving the Senator, she answered. “Bahntan is our most sacred word. It means leader.”
The dizziness I’d felt earlier smacked me again, and the physical reaction of nausea rolled through me. The Senator was their leader. But . . . how? I couldn’t fathom it. This man, I felt like I knew him, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. Looking at him now, his smile was so bizarre compared to all of the rest of their straight faces. He looked so human.
“He was the key to our success,” Vahni murmured. “Our survival. He has sacrificed much to become like one of you.”
I was staring at him when he looked over and caught my eye. His laughter fell away and he set the toddler down. I dropped my eyes and clasped my hands in front of myself. I felt so betrayed. The urge to cry was heavy behind my eyes, and I scolded myself, frantically trying to get my emotions in check.
“Ms. Haines, good to see you again.”
I lifted my head and gave a shaky smile, but when our eyes connected, the air shot from my lungs. God above, he was so handsome. And he was gazing at me, his head slightly cocked to the side. How could he be one of them? How could he have done this to me? To everyone?
“Are you all right?” he asked.
I tried my best not to stammer. “Yes, sir, hello.”
