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against the concrete until her head reached the bottom
of a copper plaque with raised numbers: 2049. She couldn’t lose her
nerve and go to pieces. She forced herself to concentrate on the
date. Think, think, she told herself, calm down. An elderly
neighbor had once told her about a weather phenomenon that spooked
a faction of the mid-century populace to move beneath the surface.
2049 – almost five decades ago. Weren’t the cave dwellings
abandoned after the Suppression? She twisted her neck and read the
entire plaque. It couldn’t hurt to know as much as possible in her
current circumstance. She slowed her breathing and fought for more
control.
    When all the horses were put away and
most of the men had disappeared down the stairwell another group of
men and women came up from below. They wore similar orange vests,
trimmed in black.
    “ And what have we here,
Amal?” A silver-haired man spoke with slow clarity.
    The scout who had carried Lydia
answered, “It was like I reported yesterday, Director. Large group
of refugees. Thousands. But they already reached the stores and
somehow broke in.” He paused, spoke a garbled phrase, then
continued, eyes down. “Only a few were outside. I grabbed her on
impulse. Then Hasser’s men rode up, but, but, there must have been
sharpshooters waiting in ambush. They killed Hasser, Director.” He
lifted his eyes to meet the piercing stare of the silver-haired
man. “Without a commander we just …” His voice trailed
off.
    “ You just turned and ran
like scared bunnies.” The Director clicked his fingers and waved
both scouts to the side. “Show me your elbow,” he ordered
Lydia.
    She struggled to her feet and pulled
back her sleeve. She wanted to stare right back with the defiance
that was coursing through her veins like snake venom, but she kept
her eyes down and waited.
    “ Stupid Red.” He spit on
the ground. “Are you anybody? Will they pay for your return?” When
Lydia meekly shook her head no, he turned to his entourage and
spoke a few words in another language. The others agreed with
single nods. “All right. You, take her down. And you, you get two
lookouts and post them to the middle field. I’m replacing Hesser
with Koji. He’ll annihilate these wandering Reds. If they don’t
come to us by morning, we’ll burn them out of their hiding
place.”
    Lydia stumbled down the steps behind
the first scout. The other one, Amal, kept a hand on her back, his
weapon ready at his side. He was surprised to learn that she was a
Red. He thought the Blues kept them farther south than this. Blues,
Reds, Gemfries, Americans, Northerners, it didn’t matter which
group she belonged to she wasn’t one of Amal’s people. She’d blend
in, though, with that chocolate complexion and shiny black hair.
Maybe he could claim her. He’d enjoyed the spoils of raids before,
but with only one captive stolen on this campaign he’d be too far
down the ladder for rewards. Still, he began to think of ways to
change her destiny. She was beautiful. It’d be a waste to sacrifice
her.

 

 

 
     
    Chapter 4 The Secret in the Hidden
Cave
     
    From the ninth page of the
first Ledger:
    The peoples of the old
desert, driven east by cloud and famine, hide themselves in caves
and cities dug under barren forests. They bring their rituals,
sins, and sacrifices, but believe not in any God.
     
    LYDIA FOUGHT FOR composure with each
step down, doubling her determination. These people were neither
Bluezools nor ordinary Blues. She hadn’t noticed a tattoo on the
man she followed down the steps and Amal’s arms were free of
markings. For a brief instant she hoped they were some of Ronel’s
people, or a misguided group of resistance fighters, or even
pre-Suppression activists. But no, there were no tattooed elbows
here. No sympathy for Reds. No sympathy for her.
    Amal shoved her into a musty room with
a single light in the ceiling. He cautioned her to keep away from
the door, then he closed it.