Page 41

16

AMITY

EARLIER THAT MORNING

I wakeup to a motor revving outside and it’s so loud. The e-cars back home don’t make a lot of noise, but there sure are a lot of noisy cars up here, and trucks, and other kinds of vehicles.

I do my Twenty this morning, even though my mom’s not here to remind me. I know I don’t have to, I’m not wearing a SafeGuard, the Society will never know. But it felt weird on the train, skipping it. Not that I wanted to do it in front of everyone.

The twenty minutes of meditation center me. I need it more than I realized. I feel like myself again. My emotions aren’t a cloudy haze; I can see them in front of me, name them, and put them aside as needed.

I make the bed and linger before the dresser, staring at the clothes and trying to decide what to wear. I wish they were all the same like at home, it makes it much easier.

Then my phone beeps so I quickly throw on a steel-gray T-shirt with flames on the front and a pair of worn black jeans and bring the phone over to the table, pulling on my jacket. It’s pretty chilly, even with the heater I can hear running in the middle room.

I understand the phone better now and I can go into the program the PS is using to communicate with me. It doesn’t come online every time I try it—the reception must be intermittent.

There’s a message for me from “mom”, at least that’s what it says. I don’t know who’s on the other side of the text for sure.

Hi Ami how are you doing?

I write back.

Fine, I’m staying with friends. They are nice.

That’s great honey.

I blink at the phone. I can’t imagine my mom using the word honey.

Still looking for your friend?

Yes

I assume they mean Zeph.

Do you think he’s at the Forge?

I guess so. I’m going to look for him today.

Ok, let me know how it goes. Stay safe.

Even if it isn’t my mom, it’s still comforting to know they’re keeping track of me. There’s GPS in my watch and depending on the signal they can probably track me that way also. I don’t know if it’s sending them all my bio info like the SafeGuards do.

I decide to look for tea and something to eat. I dig around and find a knit hat for the chill.

In the main house Qilan is at the table, with papers and a tattered book. She has a cup that’s steaming.

“Hey, Ami,” she greets me quietly. “That water’s hot, help yourself to breakfast. I think Ren’s out with Moira.”

I gratefully take a look and they have a collection of jars with all kinds of herbs and even black tea. I consider it nervously. The caffeine in the coffee was enough excitement for now, I decide, and make myself tea with peppermint leaf. There’s bread sitting out here so I toast it and spread it with something from a jar in the fridge that says butter and take a bite standing at the counter. It tastes like apples, and it’s delicious.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, not wanting to disturb Qilan’s work. “Can I contribute some money for the…food and stuff?”

She focuses a few more seconds before looking up. “That would be great. Catch up with Eli about it, okay?”

“Sure. Is he here?”

Qilan shakes her head. “He’s out again.” Her eyes skim over to a pile of flyers on the counter.What lessons cancommunal-utopians learn from libertarian theories of trust? is written at the top.