Pathways - Jeri Taylor [172]
“No one said anything, it’s just always been that way.”
“But how did it start in the first place? Who were the first people who acted that way?”
“No one knows. It was a very long time ago.”
“Then how do you know that’s the way it happened?”
The first of many long sighs issued from Benaren. “We assume that’s how it was. It makes sense.”
“But maybe there are other things that could make sense, too. Maybe people were different a long time ago, and something happened to change them.”
“Like what?”
Kes had bit her lip, mind struggling to comprehend something she had no reason to believe was so but which she nonetheless instinctively knew was the truth.
“I don’t know. Something . . . that made them not care anymore.”
That had been the first of her inquiries, some months ago, and they hadn’t abated. Now, she was pursuing a line of questioning that she found infinitely fascinating: the Caretaker.
She’d asked many questions in her short life about this mysterious being, to whom most Ocampans were so reverential, and none had ever been answered persuasively. Today, as she and her father stood in line to receive their rations, she had introduced the subject again.
“If the Caretaker built our home for us, under the ground, he must have had a reason to do it. Doesn’t anyone ever wonder what it is?”
“Most people are grateful for his generosity. He gave us our home, food, energy, water—we owe everything to him.”
“Why do we owe anything to him? He chose to do this. He must have wanted to.”
“I’ve told you—no one knows why he did it. But it would be wrong not to be grateful for our good fortune.”
Kes pondered that for a moment as they moved—slowly—toward the head of the line. She was impatient, as always. It always took so long to wend one’s way to the front, where the rations were doled out. Surely there was a better way to handle this process, one that wouldn’t waste so much time, time that could be devoted to . . . to other things. More interesting things.
And that certainly didn’t include, for instance, sitting in front of the entertainment screens, those massive plates which displayed continuous imagery of a calming, tranquil kind. Most people seemed content to sit for much of the day, gazing in a kind of stupor at the placid images, but Kes found it intolerable, becoming bored within minutes and jumping from her recliner to dash across the floor of the Assembly, much to the consternation of the others.
Now, as she and Benaren inched their way toward the head of the line, another line of questioning occurred to her. “Father, why did the Caretaker build our home here, underground?”
“This is where it is safe.”
“Safe from what?”
“From our enemies.”
“Who are those?”
“We don’t know their name. But they would take our energy, and our water.”
“Why?”
“Because they need it.”
“Why?”
“They don’t have as much as we do.”
“Why?”
“Just because they don’t.”
“Why?”
“That’s not for someone your age to worry about.”
That is when Kes planted her fists on her hips and refused to budge until she got an answer.
“Kes, move along. Others are in line behind us.”
“I’m not moving until you answer me.”
“You have to accept the fact that you’re too young to know some things.”
“No, I don’t have to accept that. I want to know.”
And at that, Benaren gestured to the people in line behind them. “Step around her,” he told them. “She doesn’t want to move.” To Kes’s irritation, the line wound around her and her father moved with them, leaving her behind.
He expected that she’d follow him, she knew, and that realization stiffened her resolve. She stood resolutely, immobile, refusing to budge as the long line snaked around her in its slow progress toward the food stations.
When Benaren had received his allotment, he came back to Kes, still standing where he had left her. “Come along, Kes. Your mother will be waiting for us.”
“I told you I’m not moving until you answer me,” she replied firmly.
“I’ve answered you as best I can. I won’t be manipulated to do more.”
“Fine. I’ll stay here forever.”
Benaren sighed and started