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RedRisingisaworkoffiction.Names,places,characters,andincidentseitheraretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,events,or
localesisentirelycoincidental.
Copyright©2014byPierceBrownMapcopyright©byJoelDanielPhillips
Allrightsreserved.
PublishedintheUnitedStatesbyDelRey,animprintofRandomHouse,adivisionofRandomHouseLLC,aPenguinRandomHouseCompany,NewYork.
DELREYandtheHOUSEcolophonareregisteredtrademarksofRandomHouseLLC.
LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationDataBrown,Pierce
RedRising/PierceBrown.pagescm
ISBN978-0-345-53978-6(acid-freepaper)—ISBN978-0-345-53979-3(e-book)1.Government,Resistanceto—Fiction.2.Dystopias.
3.Sciencefiction.I.Title.PS3602.R7226R432013
813′.6—dc232013020634
www.delreybooks.com
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Contents
CoverTitlePageCopyrightMap
ProloguePartI:Slave1:Helldiver2:TheTownship3:TheLaurel4:TheGift5:TheFirstSong6:TheMartyr
PartII:Reborn7:Lazarus8:Dancer9:TheLie10:TheCarver11:Mad12:TheCarving13:BadThings14:Andromedus15:TheTesting16:TheInstitute17:TheDraft18:Classmates19:ThePassage
PartIII:Gold20:TheHouseMars21:OurDominion22:TheTribes23:Fracture24:Titus’sWar25:TribalWar26:Mustang27:TheHouseofRage28:MyBrother29:Unity30:HouseDiana31:TheFallofMustang32:Antonia33:Apologies
PartIV:Reaper34:TheNorthwoods35:Oathbreakers36:ASecondTest37:South38:TheFallofApollo39:TheProctor’sBounty40:Paradigm41:TheJackal42:WaronHeaven43:TheLastTest44:Rise
DedicationAcknowledgmentsAbouttheAuthor
Iwouldhavelivedinpeace.Butmyenemiesbroughtmewar.Iwatchtwelvehundredoftheirstrongestsonsanddaughters.Listening
toapitilessGoldenmanspeakbetweengreatmarblepillars.Listeningtothebeastwhobroughttheflamethatgnawsatmyheart.“Allmenarenotcreatedequal,”hedeclares.Tall,imperious,aneagleof
aman.“Theweakhavedeceivedyou.TheywouldsaythemeekshouldinherittheEarth.Thatthestrongshouldnurturethegentle.ThisistheNobleLieofDemokracy.Thecancerthatpoisonedmankind.”Hiseyespiercethegatheredstudents.“YouandIareGold.Wearethe
endoftheevolutionaryline.Wetowerabovethefleshheapofman,shepherdingthelesserColors.Youhaveinheritedthislegacy,”hepauses,studyingfacesintheassembly.“Butitisnotfree.“Powermustbeclaimed.Wealthwon.Rule,dominion,empirepurchased
withblood.Youscarlesschildrendeservenothing.Youdonotknowpain.Youdonotknowwhatyourforefatherssacrificedtoplaceyouontheseheights.Butsoon,youwill.Soon,wewillteachyouwhyGoldrulesmankind.AndIpromise,ofthoseamongyou,onlythosefitforpowerwillsurvive.”ButIamnoGold.IamaRed.Hethinksmenlikemeweak.Hethinksmedumb,feeble,subhuman.I
wasnotraisedinpalaces.Ididnotridehorsesthroughmeadowsandeatmealsofhummingbirdtongues.Iwasforgedinthebowelsofthishardworld.Sharpenedbyhate.Strengthenedbylove.Heiswrong.Noneofthemwillsurvive.
PARTI
SLAVE
ThereisaflowerthatgrowsonMars.Itisredandharshandfitforoursoil.Itiscalledhaemanthus.Itmeans“bloodblossom.”
1
HELLDIVER
ThefirstthingyoushouldknowaboutmeisIammyfather’sson.Andwhentheycameforhim,Ididasheasked.Ididnotcry.NotwhentheSocietytelevisedthearrest.NotwhentheGoldstriedhim.NotwhentheGrayshangedhim.Motherhitmeforthat.MybrotherKieranwassupposedtobethestoicone.Hewastheelder,Itheyounger.Iwassupposedtocry.Instead,KieranbawledlikeagirlwhenLittleEotuckedahaemanthusintoFather’sleftworkbootandranbacktoherownfather’sside.MysisterLeannamurmuredalamentbesideme.Ijustwatchedandthoughtitashamethathedieddancingbutwithouthisdancingshoes.OnMarsthereisnotmuchgravity.Soyouhavetopullthefeettobreak
theneck.Theyletthelovedonesdoit.
Ismellmyownstinkinsidemyfrysuit.Thesuitissomekindofnanoplasticandishotasitsnamesuggests.Itinsulatesmetoetohead.Nothinggetsin.Nothinggetsout.Especiallynottheheat.Worstpartisyoucan’twipethesweatfromyoureyes.Bloodydamnstingsasitgoesthroughtheheadbandtopuddleattheheels.Nottomentionthestinkwhenyoupiss.Whichyoualwaysdo.Gottatakeinaloadofwaterthroughthedrinktube.Iguessyoucouldbefitwithacatheter.Wechoosethestink.ThedrillersofmyclanchattersomegossipoverthecomminmyearasI
rideatoptheclawDrill.I’maloneinthisdeeptunnelonamachinebuiltlike
atitanicmetalhand,onethatgraspsandgnawsattheground.Icontrolitsrockmeltingdigitsfromtheholsterseatatopthedrill,justwheretheelbowjointwouldbe.There,myfingersfitintocontrolglovesthatmanipulatethemanytentacle-likedrillssomeninetymetersbelowmyperch.TobeaHelldiver,theysayyourfingersmustflickerfastastonguesoffire.Mineflickerfaster.Despitethevoicesinmyear,Iamaloneinthedeeptunnel.Myexistence
isvibration,theechoofmyownbreath,andheatsothickandnoxiousitfeelslikeI’mswaddledinaheavyquiltofhotpiss.Anewriverofsweatbreaksthroughthescarletsweatbandtiedaround
myforeheadandslipsintomyeyes,burningthemtillthey’reasredasmyrustyhair.Iusedtoreachandtrytowipethesweataway,onlytoscratchfutilelyatthefaceplateofmyfrysuit.Istillwantto.Evenafterthreeyears,thetickleandstingofthesweatisarawmisery.Thetunnelwallsaroundmyholsterseatarebathedasulfurousyellowby
acoronaoflights.ThereachofthelightfadesasIlookupthethinverticalshaftI’vecarvedtoday.Above,precioushelium-3glimmerslikeliquidsilver,butI’mlookingattheshadows,lookingforthepitvipersthatcurlthroughthedarknessseekingthewarmthofmydrill.They’lleatintoyoursuittoo,bitethroughtheshellandthentrytoburrowintothewarmestplacetheyfind,usuallyyourbelly,sotheycanlaytheireggs.I’vebeenbittenbefore.Stilldreamofthebeast—black,likeathicktendrilofoil.Theycangetaswideasathighandlongasthreemen,butit’sthebabieswefear.Theydon’tknowhowtorationtheirpoison.Likeme,theirancestorscamefromEarth,thenMarsandthedeeptunnelschangedthem.Itiseerieinthedeeptunnels.Lonely.Beyondtheroarofthedrill,Ihear
thevoicesofmyfriends,allolder.ButIcannotseethemahalfklickabovemeinthedarkness.Theydrillhighabove,nearthemouthofthetunnelthatI’vecarved,descendingwithhooksandlinestodanglealongthesidesofthetunneltogetatthesmallveinsofhelium-3.Theyminewithmeter-longdrills,gobblingupthechaff.Theworkstillrequiresmaddexterityoffootandhand,butI’mtheearnerinthiscrew.IamtheHelldiver.Ittakesacertainkind—andI’mtheyoungestanyonecanremember.I’vebeenintheminesforthreeyears.Youstartatthirteen.Oldenough
toscrew,oldenoughtocrew.Atleastthat’swhatUncleNarolsaid.ExceptIdidn’tgetmarriedtillsixmonthsback,soIdon’tknowwhyhesaidit.EodancesthroughmythoughtsasIpeerintomycontroldisplayandslip
theclawDrill’sfingersaroundafreshvein.Eo.Sometimesit’sdifficulttothinkofherasanythingbutwhatweusedtocallheraschildren.
LittleEo—atinygirlhiddenbeneathamaneofred.Redliketherockaroundme,nottruered,rust-red.Redlikeourhome,likeMars.Eoissixteentoo.Andshemaybelikeme—fromaclanofRedearthdiggers,aclanofsonganddanceandsoil—butshecouldbemadefromair,fromtheetherthatbindsthestarsinapatchwork.NotthatI’veeverseenstars.NoRedfromtheminingcoloniesseesthestars.LittleEo.Theywantedtomarryheroffwhensheturnedfourteen,likeall
girlsoftheclans.Butshetooktheshortrationsandwaitedformetoreachsixteen,wedAgeformen,beforeslippingthatcordaroundherfinger.Shesaidsheknewwe’dmarrysincewewerechildren.Ididn’t.“Hold.Hold.Hold!”UncleNarolsnapsoverthecommchannel.“Darrow,
hold,boy!”Myfingersfreeze.He’shighabovewiththerestofthem,watchingmyprogressonhisheadunit.“What’stheburn?”Iask,annoyed.Idon’tlikebeinginterrupted.“What’stheburn,thelittleHelldiverasks.”OldBarlowchuckles.“Gaspocket,that’swhat,”Narolsnaps.He’stheheadTalkforourtwo-
hundred-pluscrew.“Hold.CallingascanCrewtochecktheparticularsbeforeyoublowusalltohell.”“Thatgaspocket?It’satinyone,”Isay.“Morelikeagaspimple.Ican
manageit.”“Ayearonthedrillandhethinksheknowshisheadfromhishole!Poor
littlepissant,”oldBarlowaddsdryly.“Rememberthewordsofourgoldenleader.Patienceandobedience,youngone.Patienceisthebetterpartofvalor.Andobediencethebetterpartofhumanity.Listentoyourelders.”Irollmyeyesattheepigram.IftheelderscoulddowhatIcan,maybe
listeningwouldhaveitsmerits.Buttheyareslowinhandandmind.SometimesIfeelliketheywantmetobejustthesame,especiallymyuncle.“I’monatear,”Isay.“Ifyouthinkthere’sagaspocket,Icanjusthop
downandhandscanit.Easy.Nodilldally.”They’llpreachcaution.Asifcautionhaseverhelpedthem.Wehaven’t
wonaLaurelinages.“WanttomakeEoawidow?”Barlowlaughs,voicecracklingwithstatic.
“Okaybyme.Sheisaprettylittlething.Drillintothatpocketandleavehertome.OldandfatIbe,butmydrillstilldigsadent.”Achorusoflaughtercomesfromthetwohundreddrillersabove.My
knucklesturnwhiteasIgripthecontrols.“ListentoUncleNarol,Darrow.Bettertobackofftillwecangeta
reading,”mybrotherKieranadds.He’sthreeyearsolder.Makeshimthinkhe’sasage,thatheknowsmore.Hejustknowscaution.“There’llbetime.”
“Time?Hell,it’lltakehours,”Isnap.They’reallagainstmeinthis.They’reallwrongandslowanddon’tunderstandthattheLaurelisonlyaboldmoveaway.More,theydoubtme.“Youarebeingacoward,Narol.”Silenceontheotherendoftheline.Callingamanacoward—notagoodwaytogethiscooperation.
Shouldn’thavesaidit.“Isaymakethescanyourself,”Loran,mycousinandNarol’sson,
squawks.“Don’tandGammaisgoodasGold—they’llgettheLaurelfor,oh,thehundredthtime.”TheLaurel.Twenty-fourclansintheundergroundminingcolonyof
Lykos,oneLaurelperquarter.Itmeansmorefoodthanyoucaneat.Itmeansmoreburnerstosmoke.ImportedquiltsfromEarth.AmberswillwiththeSociety’squalitymarkings.Itmeanswinning.Gammaclanhashaditsinceanyonecanremember.Soit’salwaysbeenabouttheQuotaforuslesserclans,justenoughtoscrapeby.EosaystheLaurelisthecarrottheSocietydangles,alwaysjustfarenoughbeyondourgrasp.Justenoughsoweknowhowshortwereallyareandhowlittlewecandoaboutit.We’resupposedtobepioneers.Eocallsusslaves.Ijustthinkwenevertryhardenough.Nevertakethebigrisksbecauseoftheoldmen.“Loran,shutupabouttheLaurel.Hitthegasandwe’llmissallthe
bloodydamnLaurelstokingdomcome,boy,”UncleNarolgrowls.He’sslurring.Icanpracticallysmellthedrinkthroughthecomm.He
wantstocallasensorteamtocoverhisownass.Orhe’sscared.Thedrunkwasbornpissinghimselfoutoffear.Fearofwhat?Ouroverlords,theGolds?Theirminions,theGrays?Whoknows?Fewpeople.Whocares?Evenfewer.Actually,justonemancaredformyuncle,andhediedwhenmyunclepulledhisfeet.Myuncleisweak.Heiscautiousandimmoderateinhisdrink,apale
shadowofmyfather.Hisblinksarelongandhard,asthoughitpainshimtoopenhiseyeseachtimeandseetheworldagain.Idon’ttrusthimdownhereinthemines,oranywhereforthatmatter.Butmymotherwouldtellmetolistentohim;shewouldremindmetorespectmyelders.EventhoughIamwed,eventhoughIamtheHelldiverofmyclan,shewouldsaythatmy“blistershavenotyetbecomecalluses.”Iwillobey,eventhoughitisasmaddeningasthetickleofthesweatonmyface.“Fine,”Imurmur.Iclenchthedrillfistandwaitasmyunclecallsitinfromthesafetyofthe
chamberabovethedeeptunnel.Thiswilltakehours.Idothemath.Eighthourstillwhistlecall.TobeatGamma,I’vegottokeeparateof156.5kilos
anhour.It’lltaketwoandahalfhoursforthescanCrewtogethereanddotheirdeal,atbest.SoI’vegottopumpout227.6kilosperhourafterthat.Impossible.ButifIkeepgoingandsquabthetediousscan,it’sours.IwonderifUncleNarolandBarlowknowhowcloseweare.Probably.
Probablyjustdon’tthinkanythingiseverworththerisk.Probablythinkdivineinterventionwillsquabourchances.GammahastheLaurel.That’sthewaythingsareandwilleverbe.WeofLambdajusttrytoscrapebyonourfoodstuffsandmeagercomforts.Norising.Nofalling.Nothingisworththeriskofchangingthehierarchy.Myfatherfoundthatoutattheendofarope.Nothingisworthriskingdeath.Againstmychest,Ifeeltheweddingband
ofhairandsilkdanglingfromthecordaroundmyneckandthinkofEo’sribs.I’llseeafewmoreoftheslenderthingsthroughherskinthismonth.
She’llgoaskingtheGammafamiliesforscrapsbehindmyback.I’llactlikeIdon’tknow.Butwe’llstillbehungry.IeattoomuchbecauseI’msixteenandstillgrowingtall;Eoliesandsaysshe’snevergotmuchofanappetite.SomewomensellthemselvesforfoodorluxuriestotheTinpots(Grays,tobetechnicaboutit),theSociety’sgarrisontroopsofourlittleminingcolony.Shewouldn’tsellherbodytofeedme.Wouldshe?ButthenIthinkaboutit.I’ddoanythingtofeedher…Ilookdownovertheedgeofmydrill.It’salongfalltothebottomofthe
holeI’vedug.Nothingbutmoltenrockandhissingdrills.ButbeforeIknowwhat’swhat,I’moutofmystraps,scannerinhandandjumpingdownthehundred-meterdroptowardthedrillfingers.Ikickbackandforthbetweentheverticalmineshaft’swallsandthedrill’slong,vibratingbodytoslowmyfall.ImakesureI’mnotnearapitvipernestwhenIthrowoutanarmtocatchmyselfonagearjustabovethedrillfingers.Thetendrillsglowwithheat.Theairshimmersanddistorts.Ifeeltheheatonmyface,feelitstabbingmyeyes,feelitacheinmybellyandballs.Thosedrillswillmeltyourbonesifyou’renotcareful.AndI’mnotcareful.Justnimble.Ilowermyselfhandoverhand,goingfeetfirstbetweenthedrillfingersso
thatIcanlowerthescannercloseenoughtothegaspockettogetareading.Theheatisunbearable.Thiswasamistake.Voicesshoutatmethroughthecomm.IalmostbrushoneofthedrillsasIfinallylowermyselfcloseenoughtothegaspocket.Thescannerflickersinmyhandasittakesitsreading.MysuitisbubblingandIsmellsomethingsweetandsharp,likeburnedsyrup.ToaHelldiver,itisthesmellofdeath.
2
THETOWNSHIP
Mysuitcan’thandletheheatdownhere.Theouterlayerisnearlymeltedthrough.Soonthesecondlayerwillgo.ThenthescannerblinkssilverandI’vegotwhatIcamefor.Ialmostdidn’tnotice.Dizzyandfrightened,Ipullmyselfawayfromthedrills.Handoverhand,Itugmybodyup,goingfastawayfromthedreadfulheat.Thensomethingcatches.Myfootisjammedjustunderneathoneofthegearsnearadrillfinger.Igaspdownairinsuddenpanic.Thedreadrisesinme.Iseemybootheelmelting.Thefirstlayergoes.Thesecondbubbles.Thenitwillbemyflesh.Iforcealongbreathandchokedownthescreamsthatarerisinginmy
throat.Iremembertheblade.IflipoutmyhingedslingBladefromitsbackholster.It’sacruellycurvedcutteraslongasmyleg,meantfortakingoffandcauterizinglimbsstuckinmachinery,justlikethis.Mostmenpanicwhentheygetcaught,andsotheslingBladeisanastyhalfmoonweaponmeanttobeusedbyclumsyhands.Evenfilledwithterror,myhandsarenotclumsy.IslicethreetimeswiththeslingBlade,cuttingnanoplasticinsteadofflesh.Onthethirdswing,Ireachdownandjerkfreemyleg.AsIdo,myknucklesbrushtheedgeofadrill.Searingpainshootsthroughmyhand.Ismellcracklingflesh,butI’mupandoff,climbingawayfromthehellishheat,climbingbacktomyholsterseatandlaughingallthewhile.Ifeellikecrying.Myunclewasright.Iwaswrong.ButI’llbedamnedifIeverlethim
knowit.
“Idiot,”ishiskindestcomment.“Manic!Bloodydamnmanic!”Loranwhoops.“Minimalgas,”Isay.“Drillingnow,Uncle.”ThehaulBackstakemypullwhenthewhistlecallcomes.Ipushmyself
outofmydrill,leavingitinthedeeptunnelforthenightshift,andsnagawearyhandonthelinetheothersdropdownthekilometer-longshafttohelpmeup.Despitetheseepingburnonthebackofmyhand,IslidemybodyupwardonthelinetillI’moutoftheshaft.KieranandLoranwalkwithmetojointheothersatthenearestgravLift.Yellowlightsdanglelikespidersfromtheceiling.MyclanandGamma’sthreehundredmenalreadyhavetheirtoesunder
themetalrailingwhenwereachtherectangulargravLift.Iavoidmyuncle—he’smadenoughtospit—andcatchafewdozenpatsonthebackformystunt.Theyoungoneslikemethinkwe’vewontheLaurel.Theyknowmyrawhelium-3pullforthemonth;it’sbetterthanGamma’s.Theoldturdsjustgrumbleandsaywe’refools.Ihidemyhandandduckmytoesin.Gravityaltersandweshootupward.AGammascabwithlessthana
week’sworthofrustunderhisnailsforgetstoputhistoesundertherailing.Sohehangssuspendedastheliftshootsupsixverticalkilometers.Earspop.“GotafloatingGammaturdhere,”BarlowlaughstotheLambdas.Pettyasitmayseem,it’salwaysniceseeingaGammasquabsomething.
Theygetmorefood,moreburners,moreeverythingbecauseoftheLaurel.Wegettodespisethem.Butthen,we’resupposedto,Ithink.Wonderifthey’lldespiseusnow.Enough’senough.Igriptherust-rednanoplasticofthekid’sfrysuitand
jerkhimdown.Kid.That’salaugh.He’shardlythreeyearsyoungerthanI.He’sdeathlytired,butwhenheseestheblood-redofmyfrysuit,he
stiffens,avoidsmyeyes,andbecomestheonlyonetoseetheburnonmyhand.IwinkathimandIthinkheshitshissuit.Wealldoitnowandthen.IrememberwhenImetmyfirstHelldiver.Ithoughthewasagod.He’sdeadnow.Uptopinthestagingdepot,abiggraycavernofconcreteandmetal,we
popourtopsanddrinkdownthefresh,coldairofaworldfarremovedfrommoltendrills.Ourcollectivestinkandsweatsoonmakeabogofthearea.Lightsflickerinthedistance,tellingustostayclearofthemagnetichorizonTramtracksontheothersideofthedepot.Wedon’tminglewiththeGammasasweheadforthehorizonTramina
staggeredlineofrust-redsuits.HalfwithLambdaLs,halfwithGammacanespaintedindarkredontheirbacks.TwoscarletheadTalks.Two
blood-redHelldivers.AcadreofTinpotseyeusaswetrudgebyoverthewornconcretefloor.
TheirGrayduroArmorissimpleandtired,asunkemptastheirhair.Itwouldstopasimpleblade,maybeanionblade,andapulseBladeorrazorwouldgothroughitlikepaper.Butwe’veonlyseenthoseontheholoCan.TheGraysdon’tevenbothertomakeashowofforce.Theirthumpersdangleattheirsides.Theyknowtheywon’thavetousethem.Obedienceisthehighestvirtue.TheGraycaptain,UglyDan,agreasybastard,throwsapebbleatme.
Thoughhisskinisdarkenedfromexposuretothesun,hishairisgrayliketherestofhisColor.Ithangsthinandweedyoverhiseyes—twoicecubesrolledinash.TheSigilsofhisColor,ablockygraysymbollikethenumberfourwithseveralbarsbesideit,markalongeachhandandwrist.Cruelandstark,likealltheGrays.IheardtheypulledUglyDanoffthefrontlinebackinEurasia,wherever
thatis,afterhegotcrippledandtheydidn’twanttobuyhimanewarm.Hehasanoldreplacementmodelnow.He’sinsecureaboutit,soImakesureheseesmegivethearmaglance.“Sawyouhadanexcitingday,darling.”Hisvoiceisasstaleandheavyas
theairinsidemyfrysuit.“Braveheronow,areyou,Darrow?Ialwaysthoughtyou’dbeabravehero.”“You’rethehero,”Isay,noddingtohisarm.“Andyouthinkyou’resmart,doncha?”“JustaRed.”Hewinksatme.“Sayhellotoyourlittlebirdieforme.Aripethingfor
piggin’.”Lickshisteeth.“EvenforaRuster.”“Neverseenabird.”ExceptontheHC.“Ain’tthatathing,”hechuckles.“Wait,whereyougoing?”heasksasI
turn.“Abowtoyourbetterswon’tgoawry,donchathink?”Hesnickerstohisfellows.Carelessofhismockery,Iturnandbowdeeply.Myuncleseesthisandturnsfromit,disgusted.WeleavetheGraysbehind.Idon’tmindbowing,butI’llprobablycut
UglyDan’sthroatifIevergetthechance.KindoflikesayingI’dtakeazipouttoVenusinatorchShipifiteversuitedmyfancy.“Hey,Dago.Dago!”LorancallstoGamma’sHelldiver.Theman’sa
legend;alltheotherdiversjustaflashinthepan.Imightbebetterthanhim.“What’dyoupull?”Dago,apalestripofoldleatherwithasmirkforaface,lightsalong
burnerandpuffsoutacloud.
“Don’tknow,”hedrawls.“Comeon!”“Don’tcare.Rawcountnevermatters,Lambda.”“Likebloodyhellitdoesn’t!What’dhepullontheweek?”Lorancallsas
weloadintothetram.Everyone’slightingburnersandpoppingouttheswill.Butthey’realllisteningintently.“Ninethousandeighthundredandtwenty-onekilos,”aGammaboasts.
Atthis,Ileanbackandsmile;IhearcheersfromtheyoungerLambdas.Theoldhandsdon’treact.I’mbusywonderingwhatEowilldowithsugarthismonth.We’veneverearnedsugarbefore,onlyeverwonitatcards.Andfruit.IheartheLaurelgetsyoufruit.She’llprobablygiveitallawaytohungrychildrenjusttoprovetotheSocietyshedoesn’tneedtheirprizes.Me?I’deatthefruitandplaypoliticsonafullstomach.Butshe’sgotthepassionforideas,whileI’vegotnoextrapassionforanythingbuther.“Stillwon’twin,”Dagodrawlsasthetramstartsaway.“Darrow’sa
youngpup,butheissmartenoughtoknowthat.Ain’tyou,Darrow?”“Youngornot,Ibeatyourcraggyass.”“Yousure’boutthat?”“Deadlysure.”Iwinkandblowhimakiss.“Laurel’sours.Sendyour
sisterstomytownshipforsugarthistime.”Myfriendslaughandslaptheirfrysuitlidsontheirthighs.Dagowatchesme.Afteramoment,hedragshisburnerdeep.Itglows
brightandburnsfast.“Thisisyou,”hesaystome.Inhalfaminutetheburnerisahusk.
AfterdisembarkingthehorizonTram,IfunnelintotheFlushwiththerestofthecrews.Theplaceiscold,musty,andsmellsexactlylikewhatitis:acrampedmetalshedwherethousandsofmenstripofffrysuitsafterhoursofpissingandsweatingtotakeairshowers.Ipeeloffmysuit,putononeofourhaircaps,andwalknakedtostandin
thenearesttransparenttube.TherearedozensofthemlinedupintheFlush.Herethereisnodancing,noboastfulflips;theonlycamaraderieisexhaustionandthesoftslappingofhandsonthighs,creatingarhythmwiththewhooshandshootoftheshowers.Thedoortomytubehissesclosedbehindme,mufflingthesoundsof
music.Afamiliarhumcomesfromthemotor,followedbyagreatrushofatmosphereandasuckingresonanceasairfilledwithantibacterialmoleculesscreamsfromthetopofthemachineandshootsovermyskinto
whiskawaydeadskinandfilthdownthedrainatthebottomofthetube.Ithurts.After,IpartwithLoranandKieranastheygototheCommontodrink
anddanceinthetavernsbeforetheLaureltidedanceofficiallystarts.TheTinpotswillbehandingouttheallowancesoffoodstuffsandannouncingtheLaurelatmidnight.Therewillbedancingbeforeandafterforusofthedayshift.ThelegendssaythatthegodMarswastheparentoftears,foetodance
andlute.Astotheformer,Iagree.ButweofthecolonyofLykos,oneofthefirstcoloniesunderMars’ssurface,areapeopleofdanceandsongandfamily.Wespitonthatlegendandmakeourownbirthright.ItistheoneresistancewecanmanageagainsttheSocietythatrulesus.Givesusabitofspine.Theydon’tcarethatwedanceorthatwesing,solongasweobedientlydig.Solongaswepreparetheplanetfortherestofthem.Yettoremindusofourplace,theymakeonesongandonedancepunishablebydeath.Myfathermadethatdancehislast.I’veseenitonlyonce,andI’veheard
thesongonlyonceaswell.Ididn’tunderstandwhenIwaslittle,oneaboutdistantvales,mist,loverslost,andareapermeanttoguideustoourunseenhome.Iwassmallandcuriouswhenthewomansangitashersonwashangedforstealingfoodstuffs.Hewouldhavebeenatallboy,buthecouldnevergetenoughfoodtoputmeatonhisbones.Hismotherdiednext.ThepeopleofLykosdidtheFadingDirgeforthem—atragicthumpingoffistsagainstchests,fadingslowly,slowly,tillthefists,likeherheart,beatnomoreandalldispersed.Thesoundhauntedmethatnight.Icriedaloneinoursmallkitchen,
wonderingwhyIcriedthenwhenIhadnotformyfather.AsIlayonthecoldfloor,Iheardasoftscratchingatmyfamily’sdoor.WhenIopenedthedoor,Ifoundasmallhaemanthusbudnestledinthereddirt,notasoultobeseen,onlyEo’stinyfootprintsinthedirt.Thatisthesecondtimeshebroughtflowersafterdeath.Sincesonganddanceareinourblood,Isupposeitisnotsurprisingthat
itwasinboththatIfirstrealizedIlovedEo.NotLittleEo.Notasshewas.ButEoassheis.Shesaysshelovedmebeforetheyhangedmyfather.Butitwasinasmokytavernwhenherrustyhairswirledandherfeetmovedwiththezitherandherhipstothedrumsthatmyheartforgotacoupleofbeats.Itwasnotherflipsorcartwheels.Noneoftheboastfulfoolerythatsomarksthedanceoftheyoung.Herswasagraceful,proudmovement.Withoutme,shewouldnoteat.Withouther,Iwouldnotlive.
Shemayteasemeforsayingso,butsheisthespiritofourpeople.Life’sdealtusahardhand.We’retosacrificeforthegoodofmenandwomenwedon’tknow.We’retodigtoreadyMarsforothers.Thatmakessomeofusnastymindedfolks.ButEo’skindness,herlaughter,herfiercewill,isthebestthatcancomefromahomesuchasours.Ilookforherinmyfamily’soffshoottownship,justahalfmile’sworthof
tunnelroadawayfromtheCommon.ThetownshipisoneoftwodozentownshipssurroundingtheCommon.Itisahivelikeclusterofhomescarvedintotherockwallsoftheoldmines.Stoneandearthareourceilings,ourfloors,ourhome.TheClanisagiantfamily.Eogrewupnotastone’sthrowfrommyhouse.Herbrothersarelikemyown.HerfatherliketheoneIlost.Amessofelectricalwirestangletogetheralongthecavern’sceilinglikea
jungleofblackandredvines.Lightshangdownfromthejungle,swayinggentlyasairfromtheCommon’scentraloxygensystemcirculates.AtthecenterofthetownshipdanglesamassiveholoCan.It’sasquareboxwithimagesoneachside.Pixelsareblackedoutandtheimageisfadedandfuzzy,butneverhasthethingfaltered,neverhasitturnedoff.Itbathesourclusterofhomesinitsownpalelight.VideosfromtheSociety.Myfamily’shomeiscarvedintotherockahundredmetersfromthe
bottomfloorofthetownship.Asteeppathleadsfromittotheground,thoughpulleysandropescanalsobearonetothetownship’sgreatestheights.Onlytheoldorinfirmusethose.Andwehavefewofeither.Ourhousehasfewrooms.EoandIonlyrecentlywereabletotakea
roomforourselves.Kieranandhisfamilyhavetworooms,andmymotherandsistersharetheother.AllLambdasinLykosliveinourtownship.OmegaandUpsilonneighbor
usjustaminute’sworthofwidetunnelovertoeitherside.We’reallconnected.ExceptforGamma.TheyliveintheCommon,abovethetaverns,repairbooths,silkshops,andtradebazaars.TheTinpotsliveinafortressabovethat,nearerthebarrensurfaceofourharshworld.That’swheretheportsliethatbringthefoodstuffsfromEarthtousmaroonedpioneers.TheholoCanabovemeshowsimagesofmankind’sstruggles,whichare
thenfollowedbysoaringmusicastheSociety’striumphsflashpast.TheSociety’ssigil,agoldenpyramidwiththreeparallelbarsattachedtothepyramid’sthreefaces,acirclesurroundingall,burnsintothescreen.ThevoiceofOctaviaauLune,theSociety’sagedSovereign,narratesthestrugglemanfacesincolonizingtheplanetsandmoonsoftheSystem.“Sincethedawnofman,oursagaasaspecieshasbeenoneoftribal
warfare.Ithasbeenoneoftrial,oneofsacrifice,oneofdaringtodefy
nature’snaturallimits.Now,throughdutyandobedience,weareunited,butourstruggleisnodifferent.SonsanddaughtersofallColors,weareaskedtosacrificeyetagain.Hereinourfinesthour,wecastourbestseedstothestars.Wherefirstshallweflourish?Venus?Mercury?Mars?TheMoonsofNeptune,Jupiter?”Hervoicegrowssolemnasheragelessfacewithitsregalcastpeersdown
fromtheHC.HerhandsshimmerwiththesymbolofGoldemblazonedupontheirbacks—adotinthecenterofawingedcircle—goldwingsmarkthesidesofherforearms.Onlyoneimperfectionmarshergoldenface—alongcrescentscarrunningalongherrightcheekbone.Herbeautyislikethatofacruelbirdofprey.“YoubraveRedpioneersofMars—strongestofthehumanbreed—sacrifice
forprogress,sacrificetopavethewayforthefuture.Yourlives,yourblood,areadownpaymentfortheimmortalityofthehumanraceaswemovebeyondEarthandMoon.Yougowherewecouldnot.Yousuffersothatothersdonot.“Isaluteyou.Iloveyou.Thehelium-3thatyoumineisthelife-bloodofthe
terraformingprocess.Soontheredplanetwillhavebreathableair,livablesoil.Andsoon,whenMarsishabitable,whenyoubravepioneershavemadereadytheredplanetforussofterColors,wewilljoinyouandyouwillbeheldinhighestesteembeneaththeskyyourtoilcreated.Yoursweatandbloodfuelstheterraforming!“Bravepioneers,alwaysrememberthatobedienceisthehighestvirtue.
Aboveall,obedience,respect,sacrifice,hierarchy…”Ifindthekitchenroomofthehomeempty,butIhearEointhebedroom.“Stoprightwhereyouare!”shecommandsthroughthedoor.“Donot,
underanycondition,lookinthisroom.”“Okay.”Istop.Shecomesoutaminutelater,flusteredandblushing.Herhairiscovered
industandwebs.Irakemyhandsthroughthetangle.She’sstraightfromtheWebbery,wheretheyharvestthebioSilk.“Youdidn’tgointheFlush,”Isay,smiling.“Didn’thavetime.HadtoskirtoutoftheWebberytopicksomething
up.”“Whatdidyoupickup?”Shesmilessweetly.“Youdidn’tmarrymebecauseItellyoueverything,
remember.Anddonotgointothatroom.”Imakealungeforthedoor.Sheblocksmeandpullsmysweatbanddown
overmyeyes.Herforeheadpushesagainstmychest.Ilaugh,movetheband,andgriphershoulderstopushherbackenoughtolookintohereyes.
“Orwhat?”Iaskwitharaisedeyebrow.Shejustsmilesatmeandcocksherhead.Ibackawayfromthemetal
door.Idiveintomoltenmineshaftswithoutablink.Buttherearesomewarningsyoucanbuckoffandothersyoucan’t.Shestandsonhertiptoesandpecksmegoodonthenose.“Goodboy;I
knewyou’dbeeasytotrain,”shesays.Thenhernosewrinklesbecauseshesmellsmyburn.Shedoesn’tcoddleme,doesn’tberateme,doesn’tevenspeakexcepttosay,“Iloveyou,”withjustthehintofworryinhervoice.Shepicksthemeltedpiecesofmyfrysuitoutofthewound,which
stretchesfrommyknucklestomywrist,andpullstightawebwrapwithantibioticandnervenucleic.“Where’dyougetthat?”Iask.“IfIdon’tlectureyou,youdon’tquizmeonwhat’swhat.”Ikissheronthenoseandplaywiththethinbandofwovenhairaround
herringfinger.Myhairwoundwithbitsofsilkmakesherweddingband.“Ihaveasurpriseforyoutonight,”shetellsme.“AndIhaveoneforyou,”Isay,thinkingoftheLaurel.Iputmy
sweatbandonherheadlikeacrown.Shewrinkleshernoseatitswetness.“Oh,well,Iactuallyhavetwoforyou,Darrow.Pityyoudidn’tthink
ahead.Youmighthavegottenmeacubeofsugarorasatinsheetor…maybeevencoffeetogowiththefirstgift.”“Coffee!”Ilaugh.“WhatsortofColordidyouthinkyoumarried?”Shesighs.“Nobenefitstoadiver,noneatall.Crazy,stubborn,rash…”“Dexterous?”IsaywithamischievoussmileasIslidemyhandupthe
sideofherskirt.“Reckonthathasitsadvantages.”Shesmilesandswatsmyhandaway
likeit’saspider.“Nowputtheseglovesonunlessyouwantjabberfromthewomen.Yourmother’salreadygoneonahead.”
3
THELAUREL
WewalkhandinhandwiththeothersfromourtownshipthroughthetunnelroadstotheCommon.LunedronesonaboveusontheHC,highabove,astheGoldbrows(Aureatetobetechnic)oughttobe.TheyshowthehorrorsofaterroristbombkillingaRedminingcrewandanOrangetechniciangroup.TheSonsofAresareblamed.TheirstrangeglyphofAres,acruelhelmetwithspikedsunburstsexplodingfromthecrown,burnsacrossthescreen;blooddripsfromthespikes.Childrenareshownmangled.TheSonsofAresarecalledtribalmurderers,calledbringersofchaos.Theyarecondemned.TheSociety’sGraypoliceandsoldiersmoverubble.TwosoldiersoftheObsidianColor,colossalmenandwomennearlytwicemysize,areshownalongwithnimbleYellowdoctorscarryingseveralvictimsfromtheblast.TherearenoSonsofAresinLykos.Theirfutilewardoesnottouchus;
yetagainarewardisofferedforinformationonAres,theterroristking.Wehaveheardthebroadcastathousandtimes,andstillitfeelslikefiction.TheSonsthinkwearemistreated,sotheyblowthingsup.Itisapointlesstantrum.AnydamagetheydodelaystheprogressofmakingMarsreadyfortheotherColors.Ithurtshumanity.Inthetunnelroad,whereboyscompetetotouchtheceiling,thepeopleof
thetownshipsflowinmerrimenttowardtheLaureltidedance.WesingtheLaureltidesongaswego—aswoopingmelodyofamanfindinghisbrideinafieldofgold.There’slaughterastheyoungboystryrunningalongthe
wallsordoingrowsofflips,onlytofallontheirfacesorbebestedbyagirl.Lightsarestrungalongthelengthycorridor.Inthedistance,drunkUncle
Narol,oldnowatthirty-five,playshiszitherforthechildrenwhodanceaboutourlegs;evenhecannotscowlforever.Hewearstheinstrumentsuspendedonshoulderstrapssothatitrestsathiships,withitsplasticsoundboardanditsmanytautmetalstringsfacinguptowardtheceiling.Therightthumbstrumsthestrings,exceptwhentheindexfingerdropsdownorwhenthethumbpickssinglestrings,allwhilethelefthandpicksoutthebasslinestringbystring.Itismaddeninglydifficulttomakethezithersoundanythingbutmournful.UncleNarol’sfingersareequaltothetask,thoughmineonlymaketragicmusic.Heusedtoplaytome,teachingmetomovetothedancesmyfathernever
hadthechancetoteachme.Heeventaughtmetheforbiddendance,theonethey’llkillyoufor.We’ddoitintheoldmines.HewouldhitmyankleswithaswitchtillIpirouettedseamlesslythroughtheswoopingmovements,alengthofmetalinmyhand,likeasword.AndwhenIgotitright,hewouldkissmybrowandtellmeIwasmyfather’sson.Itwashislessonsthattaughtmetomove,thatletmebesttheotherkidsasweplayedgamesoftagandghostsintheoldtunnels.“TheGoldsdanceinpairs,Obsidiansinthrees,Graysindozens,”hetold
me.“Wedancealone,becauseonlyalonedoHelldiversdrill.Onlyalonecanaboybecomeaman.”Imissthosedays,dayswhenIwasyoungenoughthatIdidn’tjudgehim
forthestinkofswillonhisbreath.Iwaseleventhen.Onlyfiveyearsago.Yetitfeelsalifetime.IgetpatsonthebackfromthoseofLambdaandevenVarlothebaker
tiltsmehisbrowandtossesEoafistofbread.They’veheardabouttheLaurel,nodoubt.Eotucksthebreadintoherskirtsforlaterandgivesmeacuriouslook.“You’regrinninglikeafool,”shesaystome,pinchingmyside.“What
didyoudo?”Ishrugandtrytowipethegrinfrommyface.Itisimpossible.“Well,you’reveryproudofsomething,”shesayssuspiciously.Kieran’ssonanddaughter,mynieceandnephew,patterby.Threeand
three,thetwinsarejustfastenoughtooutracebothKieran’swifeandmymother.Mymother’ssmileisoneofawomanwhohasseenwhatlifehastooffer
andis,atbest,bemused.“Itseemsyou’veburnedyourself,myheart,”shesayswhensheseesmyglovedhands.Hervoiceisslow,ironic.
“Ablister,”Eosaysforme.“Nastyone.”Mothershrugs.“Hisfathercamehomewithworse.”Iputmyarmaroundhershoulders.Theyarethinnerthantheyusedto
bewhenshetaughtme,asallwomenteachtheirsons,thesongsofourpeople.“WasthatahintofworryIheard,Mother?”Iask.“Worry?Me?Sillychild.”Mothersighswithaslowsmile.Ikissheron
thecheek.HalftheclansarealreadydrunkwhenwearriveintheCommon.In
additiontoadancingpeople,we’readrunkenpeople.TheTinpotsletusaloneinthat.Hangamanfornorealreasonandyoumightgetsomegrumblingsfromthetownships.Butforcesobrietyuponus,andyou’llbepickingupthepiecesforabloodydamnmonth.Eoisofthemindthatthefungus,grendel,whichwedistill,isn’tnativetoMarsandwasinsteadplantedheretoenslaveustotheswill.Shebringsthisupwhenevermymothermakesanewbatch,andmymotherusuallyrepliesbytakingaswigandsaying,“Ratheradrinkbemymasterthanaman.Thesechainstastesweet.”They’lltasteevensweeterwiththesyrupswe’llgetfromtheLaurel
boxes.Theyhaveflavorsforalcohol,likeberryandsomethingcalledcinnamon.PerhapsI’llevengetanewzithermadeofwoodinsteadofmetal.Sometimestheygivethoseout.Mineisanold,frayedthing.I’veplayedittoolong.Butitwasmyfather’s.ThemusicswellsaheadofusintheCommon—bawdytunesof
improvisedpercussionandwailingzithers.We’rejoinedbyOmegasandUpsilons,jostlingaboutmerrilytowardthetaverns.AllthetaverndoorshavebeenthrownopensotheirsmokeandsoundbillowintotheCommon’splaza.Tablesringtheplazaandaspaceisleftclearsurroundingthecentralgallowssothatthereisroomtodance.Gammahomesfillthenextseverallevels,followedbysupplydepots,a
sheerwall,andthen,highaboveintheceiling,asunkenmetaldomewithnanoGlassviewports.WecallthatplacethePot.Itisthefortresswhereourkeepersliveandsleep.Beyondthatistheuninhabitablesurfaceofourplanet—abarrenwastelandthatI’veonlyseenontheHC.Thehelium-3wemineissupposedtochangethat.ThedancersandjugglersandsingersoftheLaureltidehavealready
begun.EocatchessightofLoranandKieranandgivesthemaholler.They’reatalong,packedtableneartheSoggyDrop,atavernwheretheoldestofourclan,Ol’Ripper,holdscourtandtellstalestodrunkenfolks.
He’spassedoutonthetabletonight.It’sashame.IwouldhavelikedforhimtoseemefinallygetustheLaurel.Atourfeasts,wherethere’shardlyfoodenoughforeachsoultoholdabit
intheirgob,thedrinkanddancetakecenter.LoranpoursmeamugofswillbeforeIevensitdown.He’salwaystryingtogetotherstodrinksohecanputridiculousribbonsintheirhair.HeclearsthewayforEotositbesidehisownwife,Dio,hersister,twininlooksifnotbirth.LoranhasaloveforEolikeherbrotherLiamwould,butIknowhewas
onceastakenwithherasheeverwaswithDio.Infact,hebentakneetomywifewhensheturnedfourteen.Butthenagain,halftheladsjoinedhiminthat.Nosweatingit.Shemadeherchoicerightandclear.Kieran’schildrenswarmhim.Hiswifekisseshislips;minekisseshis
browandtousleshisredhair.AfteradayintheWebberyharvestingspiderwormsilk,Idon’tknowhowthewivesmanagetolooksolovely.Iwasbornhandsome,faceangularandslim,butthemineshavedonetheirparttochangeme.I’mtall,stillgrowing.Hairstilllikeoldblood,irisesstillasrust-redasOctaviaauLune’saregolden.Myskinistightandpale,butI’mpockedwithscars—burns,cuts.Won’tbelongtillIlookhardasDagoortiredasUncleNarol.Butthewomen,they’rebeyondus,beyondme.Lovelyandsprydespite
theWebbery,despitethechildrentheybear.Theywearlayeredskirtsdownpasttheirkneesandblousesofhalfadozenreds.Neveranythingelse.Alwaysred.They’retheheartoftheclans.AndhowmuchmorebeautifultheywilllookwrappedintheimportedbowsandribbonsandlacescontainedintheLaurelboxes.ItouchtheSigilsonmyhands,aboneliketexture.It’sacrudeRedcircle
withanarrowandcross-hatching.Itfeelsright.Eo’sdoesn’t.Herhairandeyesmaybeours,butshecouldbeoneoftheGoldbrowsweseeontheholoCan.Shedeservesit.ThenIseehersmackLoranhardontheheadashethrowsbackamugofMa’sswill.God,ifhe’splacingaboutthepieces,placedherwell.Ismile.ButasIlookbehindher,mysmilefades.Abovetheleapingdancers,amidthehundredswirlingskirtsandthumpingbootsandclappinghands,swaysasingleskeletonuponthecold,tallgallows.Othersdonotnoticeit.Tome,itisashadow,areminderofmyfather’sfate.Thoughwearediggers,wearenotpermittedtoburyourdead.Itis
anotheroftheSociety’slaws.Myfatherswayedfortwomonthstilltheycuthisskeletondownandgroundhisbonestodust.IwassixbutItriedtopullhimdownthefirstday.Myunclestoppedme.Ihatedhimbecausehekeptmefrommyfather’sbody.Later,IcametohatehimagainbecauseI
discoveredhewasweak:myfatherdiedforsomething,whileUncleNarollivedanddrankandsquanderedhislife.“He’samadone,you’llseesomeday.Madandbrilliantandnoble,
Narol’sthebestofmybrothers,”myfatheroncesaid.Nowhe’sjustthelast.IneverthoughtmyfatherwoulddotheDevil’sDance,whattheoldfolk
calldeathbyhanging.Hewasamanofwordsandpeace.Buthisnotionwasfreedom,lawsofourown.Hisdreamswerehisweapons.HislegacyistheDancer’sRebellion.Itdiedwithhimonthescaffold.NinemenatoncedoingtheDevil’sDance,kickingandflailing,tillonlyhewasleft.Itwasn’tmuchofarebellion;theythoughtpeacefulprotestwould
convincetheSocietytoincreasethefoodrations.SotheyperformedtheReapingDanceinfrontofthegravLiftsandremovedbitsofmachineryfromthedrillssothattheywouldn’twork.Thegambitfailed.OnlywinningtheLaurelcangetyoumorefood.It’sonelevenwhenmyunclesitsdownwithhiszither.Heeyesme
somethingnasty,drunkasafoolonYuletide.Wedon’tsharewords,thoughhehasakindoneforEoandsheforhim.EveryonelovesEo.It’swhenEo’smothercomesoverandkissesmeonthebackofmyhead
andsaysveryloudly,“Weheardthenews,yougoldenboy.TheLaurel!Youareyourfather’sson,”thatmyunclestirs.“What’sthematter,Uncle?”Iask.“Havegas?”Hisnostilsflarewide.“Youlittleshiteater!”Helauncheshimselfacrossthetableandsoonwe’reamuddleoffistsand
elbowsontheground.He’sbig,butIfliphimdownandpoundhisnosewithmybadhandtillEo’sfatherandKieranpullmeoff.UncleNarolspitsatme.It’smorebloodandswillthananythingelse.Thenwe’redrinkingagainatoppositeendsofthetable.Mymotherrollshereyes.“He’sjustbitterhedidn’tdoabloodydamnthingtogettheLaurel.
Shownupisall,”Loransaysofhisfather.“Bloodydamncowardwouldn’tknowhowtowintheLaurelifitlanded
inhislap,”Isay,scowling.Eo’sfatherpatsmeontheheadandseeshisdaughterfixingmyburned
handunderthetable.Islipmyglovesbackon.Hewinksatme.Eo’sfiguredoutthefussabouttheLaurelbythetimetheTinpotsarrive,
butshe’snotexcitedasI’dhopedshe’dbe.Shetwistsherskirtsinherhandsandsmilesatme.Buthersmilesaremorelikegrimaces.Idon’tunderstandwhyshe’ssoapprehensive.Noneoftheotherclansare.Manycometopaytheirrespects;alloftheHelldiversdo,exceptDago.He’ssitting
atagroupofshinyGammatables—theonlyoneswithmorefoodthanswill—smokingdownaburner.“Can’twaitforthesodtobeeatingregularrations,”Loranchuckles.
“Dago’snevertastedpeasantfarebefore.”“Yetsomehowhe’sthinnerthanawoman,”Kieranadds.IlaughalongwithLoranandpushameagerpieceofbreadtoEo.“Cheerup,”Itellher.“Thisisanightforcelebrating.”“I’mnothungry,”shereplies.“Notevenifthebreadhascinnamononit?”Soonitwill.Shegivesmethathalfsmile,asifsheknowssomethingIdonot.Attwelve,acoterieofTinpotsdescendingravBootsfromthePot.Their
armorisshoddyandstained.MostareboysoroldmenretiredfromEarth’swars.Butthat’snotwhatmatters.Theycarrytheirthumpersandscorchersinbuckledholsters.I’veneverseeneitherweaponused.There’snoneed.They’vegottheair,thefood,theport.Wehaven’tascorchertoshoot.NotthatEowouldn’tliketostealone.ThemuscleinherjawflexesasshewatchestheTinpotsfloatintheir
gravBoots,nowjoinedbyMineMagistrate,TimonycuPodginus,aminutecopper-hairedmanofthePennies(Coppertobetechnic).“Notice,notice.GrubbyRusters!”UglyDancalls.Silencefallsoverthe
festivitiesastheyfloataboveus.MagistratePodginus’sgravBootsaresubstandardthings,sohewobblesintheairlikeageriatric.MoreTinpotsdescendonagravLiftasPodginussplaysopenhissmall,manicuredhands.“Fellowpioneers,howwonderfulitistoseeyourcelebrations.Imust
confess,”hetitters,“Ihaveafondnessfortherusticnatureofyourhappiness.Simpledrink.Simplefare.Simpledance.Oh,whatfinesoulsyouhavetobesoentertained.Why,IwishIweresoentertained.Icannotevenfindpleasureoff-planetinaPinkbrothelafteramealoffinehamandpineappletartthesedays!Howsadforme!Howyoursoulsarespoiled.IfonlyIcouldbelikeyou.ButmyColorismyColor,andIamcursedasaCoppertoliveatediouslifeofdata,bureaucracy,andmanagement.”HecluckshistongueandhiscoppercurlsbounceashisgravBootsshift.“Buttothematter:AllQuotashavebeenmet,savebyMuandChi.As
such,theywillreceivenobeefs,milks,spices,hygienics,comforts,ordentalaidthismonth.Oatsandsubstantialsonly.YouunderstandthattheshipsfromEarthorbitcanonlybringsomanysuppliestothecolonies.Valuableresources!Andwemustgivethemtothosewhoperform.Perhapsnextquarter,MuandChi,youwilldallyless!”MuandChilostadozenmeninagasexplosionliketheoneUncleNarol
feared.Theydidnotdally.Theydied.Heprattlesonawhilebeforecomingtotherealmatter.Heproducesthe
Laurelandholdsitintheair,pinchedbetweenhisfingers.It’spaintedinfakegold,butthesmallbranchsparklesnonetheless.Lorannudgesme.UncleNarolscowls.Ileanback,consciousoftheeyes.Theyoungtaketheircuesfromme.ThechildrenadoreallHelldivers.Buttheoldereyeswatchmetoo,justasEoalwayssays.I’mtheirpride,theirgoldenson.NowI’llshowthemhowarealmanacts.Iwon’tjumpupanddowninvictory.I’lljustsmileandnod.“Anditbecomesmydistincthonorto,onbehalfoftheArchGovernorof
Mars,NeroauAugustus,toawardtheLaurelofproductivityandmonthlyexcellenceandtriumphantfortitudeandobedience,sacrifice,and…”GammagetstheLaurel.Andwedon’t.
4
THEGIFT
AstheLaurel-wreathedboxescomedowntoGamma,Ithinkabouthowcleveritreallyis.Theywon’tletuswintheLaurel.Theydon’tcarethatthemathdoesn’twork.Theydon’tcarethattheyoungscreaminprotestandtheoldmoantheirsametiredwisdoms.Thisisjustademonstrationoftheirpower.Itistheirpower.Theydecidethewinner.Agameofmeritwonbybirth.Itkeepsthehierarchyinplace.Itkeepsusstriving,butneverconspiring.Yetdespitethedisappointment,somepartofusdoesn’tblamethe
Society.WeblameGamma,whoreceivesthegifts.Aman’sonlygotsomuchhate,Isuppose.Andwhenheseeshischildren’sribsthroughtheirshirtswhilehisneighborslinetheirbellieswithmeatstewsandsugaredtarts,it’shardforhimtohateanyonebutthem.Youthinkthey’dshare.Theydon’t.Myuncleshrugsatmeandothersareredandmad.Loranlookslikehe
mightattacktheTinpotsortheGammas.ButEodoesn’tletmeboilinit.Shedoesn’tletmyknucklesturnwhiteasIclenchmyfistsinfury.SheknowsthetemperIhaveinsidemebettereventhanmyownmother,andsheknowshowtodraintheragebeforeitrises.MymothersmilessoftlyasshewatchesEotakemebythearm.Howshelovesmywife.“Dancewithme,”Eowhispers.Sheshoutsforthezitherstogetgoingand
thedrumstogetrolling.Nodoubtshe’spissin’fire.ShehatestheSocietymorethanIdo.ButthisiswhyIlovemywife.
Soonthefastzithermusicswellsandtheoldmenslaptheirhandsontables.Thelayeredskirtsfly.Feettapandshuffle.AndIgraspmywifeastheclansflowindancethroughoutthesquaretojoinus.Wesweatandwelaughandtrytoforgettheanger.Wegrewtogether,andnowaregrown.Inhereyes,Iseemyheart.Inherbreath,Ihearmysoul.Sheismyland.Sheismykin.Mylove.Shepullsmeawaywithlaughter.Wewendourwaythroughthecrowdto
bealone.Yetshedoesnotstopwhenwearefree.Sheguidesmealongmetalwalkwaysandlow,darkceilingstotheoldtunnels,totheWebbery,wherethewomentoil.Itisbetweenshifts.“Wherearewegoingexactly?”Iask.“Ifyouremember,Ihavegiftsforyou.Andifyouapologizeforyourown
giftgoingflat,I’llsmackyouinthegob.”Seeingabloody-redhaemanthusbulbpeekingoutfromthewall,Isnatch
itupandhandittoher.“Mygift,”Isaid.“Ididintendtosurpriseyou.”Shegiggles.“Wellthen.Thisinnerhalfismine.Thisouterhalfisyours.
No!Don’tpullatit.I’mkeepingyourhalf.”Ismellthehaemanthusinherhand.ItstinkslikerustandMother’smeagerstews.InsidetheWebbery,thigh-thickspiderwormsofbrownandblackfur,
withlongskeletallegs,knitsilkaroundus.Theycrawlalongthegirders,thinlegsdisproportionatetotheircorpulentabdomens.EoleadsmeintotheWebbery’shighestlevel.Theoldmetalgirdersarelacedwithsilk.Ishiverinlookingatthecreaturesaboveandbelow;pitvipersIunderstand,spiderwormsIdonot.TheSociety’sCarversmadethecreatures.Laughing,Eoguidesmetoawallandpullsbackathickcurtainofwebbing,revealingarustedmetalduct.“Ventilation,”shesays.“Mortaronthewallsgavewaytorevealitabout
aweekago.Anoldtubetoo.”“Eo,they’lllashusiftheyfindus.We’renotallowed…”“I’mnotgoingtoletthemruinthisgifttoo.”Shekissesmeonthenose.
“Comeon,Helldiver.There’snotevenamoltendrillinthistunnel.”Ifollowherthroughalongseriesofturnsinthesmallshafttillweexit
outagrateintoaworldofinhumansounds.Abuzzmurmursinthedarkness.Shetakesmyhand.It’stheonlyfamiliarthing.“Whatisthat?”Iaskofthesound.“Animals,”shesays,andleadsmeintothestrangenight.Somethingsoft
isbeneathmyfeet.Inervouslyletherpullmeforward.“Grass.Trees.Darrow,trees.We’reinaforest.”Thescentofflowers.Thenlightsinthedarkness.Flickeringanimalswith
greenabdomensflutterthroughtheblack.Greatbugswithiridescentwingsrisefromtheshadows.Theypulsewithcolorandlife.MybreathcatchesandEolaughsasabutterflypassessocloseIcantouchit.They’reinoursongs,allthesethings,butwe’veonlyeverseenthemon
theHC.TheircolorsareunlikeanyIcouldbelieve.Myeyeshaveseennothingbutsoil,theflareofthedrill,Reds,andthegrayofconcreteandmetal.TheHChasbeenthewindowthroughwhichI’veseencolor.Butthisisadifferentspectacle.Thecolorsofthefloatinganimalsscaldmyeyes.Ishiverandlaughand
reachoutandtouchthecreaturesfloatingbeforemeinthedarkness.Achildagain,Icupthemandlookupattheroom’sclearceiling.Itisatransparentbubblethatpeersatthesky.Sky.Onceitwasjustaword.IcannotseeMars’sface,butIcanseeitsview.Starsglowsoftand
gracefulintheslickblacksky,likethelightsthatdangleaboveourtownship.Eolooksasthoughshecouldjointhem.Herfaceisaglowasshewatchesme,laughingasIfalltomykneesandsuckinthescentofthegrass.Itisastrangesmell,sweetandnostalgic,thoughIhavenomemoriesofgrass.Astheanimalsbuzznearinthebrush,inthetrees,Ipullherdown,Ikissherwithmyeyesopenforthefirsttime.Thetreesandtheirleavesswaygentlyfromtheairthatcomesthroughthevents.AndIdrinkthesounds,thesmells,thesightasmywifeandImakeloveinabedofgrassbeneatharoofofstars.“ThatisAndromedaGalaxy,”shetellsmelateraswelieonourbacks.
Theanimalsmakechirpingnoisesinthedarkness.Theskyabovemeisafrighteningthing.IfIstaretoointently,Iforgetgravity’spullandfeelasthoughIamgoingtofallintoit.Shiverstrickledownmyspine.Iamacreatureofnooksandtunnelsandshafts.Themineismyhome,andpartofmewantstoruntosafety,runfromthisalienroomoflivingthingsandvastspaces.Eorollstolookatmeandtracesthesteamscarsthatrunlikeriversdown
mychest.Fartherdownshe’dfindscarsfromthepitviperalongmybelly.“MumusedtotellmestoriesofAndromeda.She’ddrawwithinksgiventoherbythatTinpot,Bridge.Healwayslikedher,youknow.”Aswelietogether,shetakesadeepbreathandIknowshehasplanned
something,savedsomethingtotalkaboutinthismoment.Thisplaceisleverage.“YouwontheLaurel,weallknow,”shesaystome.“Youneedn’tcoddleme.I’mnotangryanylonger.Itdoesn’tmatter,”I
say.“Afterseeingthis,noneofthatmatters.”“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”sheaskssharply.“Itmattersmorethan
ever.YouwontheLaurel,buttheydidn’tletyoukeepit.”“Itdoesn’tmatter.Thisplace…”“Thisplaceexists,buttheydon’tletuscomehere,Darrow.TheGrays
mustuseitforthemselves.Theydon’tshare.”“Whyshouldthey?”Iask,confused.“Becausewemadeit.Becauseit’sours!”“Isit?”Thethoughtisforeign.AllIpossessismyfamilyandmyself.
EverythingelseistheSociety’s.Wedidn’tspendthemoneytosendthepioneershere.Withoutthem,we’dbeonthedyingEarthliketherestofhumanity.“Darrow!AreyousoRedthatyoudon’tseewhatthey’vedonetous?”“Watchyourtone,”Isaytightly.Herjawflexes.“I’msorry.It’sjust…weareinchains,Darrow.Weare
notcolonists.Well,sureweare.Butit’smoreonthespottocallusslaves.Webegforfood.BegforLaurelslikedogsbeggingforscrapsfromthemaster’stable.”“Youmaybeaslave,”Isnap.“ButIamnot.Idon’tbeg.Iearn.Iama
Helldiver.Iwasborntosacrifice,tomakeMarsreadyforman.There’sanobilitytoobedience.…”Shethrowsupherhands.“Atalkingpuppet,areyou?Spittingouttheir
bloodydamnlines.Yourfatherhadtherightofit.Hemightnothavebeenperfect,buthehadtherightofit.”Shegrabsaclumpofgrassandtearsitoutoftheground.Itseemslikesomesortofsacrilege.“Wehaveclaimoverthisland,Darrow.Oursweatandbloodwatered
thissoil.YetitbelongstotheGolds,totheSociety.Howlonghasitbeenthisway?Ahundred,ahundredandfiftyyearsofpioneersmininganddying?Ourbloodandtheirorders.WepreparethislandforColorsthathavenevershedsweatforus,ColorsthatsitincomfortontheirthronesondistantEarth,ColorsthathaveneverbeentoMars.Isthatsomethingtolivefor?I’llsayitagain,yourfatherhadtherightofit.”Ishakemyheadather.“Eo,myfatherdiedbeforehewaseventwenty-
fivebecausehehadtherightofit.”“Yourfatherwasweak,”shemutters.“Whatthebloodydamnisthatsupposedtomean?”Bloodrisesintomy
face.“Itmeanshehadtoomuchrestraint.Itmeansyourfatherhadtheright
dreambutdiedbecausehewouldnotfighttomakeitreal,”shesays
sharply.“Hehadafamilytoprotect!”“Hewasstillweakerthanyou.”“Careful,”Ihiss.“Careful?ThisfromDarrow,themadHelldiverofLykos?”Shelaughs
patronizingly.“Yourfatherwasborncareful,obedient.Butwereyou?Ididn’tthinksowhenImarriedyou.Theotherssayyouarelikeamachine,becausetheythinkyouknownofear.They’reblind.Theydon’tseehowfearbindsyou.”Shetracesthehaemanthusblossomalongmycollarboneinasudden
showoftenderness.Sheisacreatureofmoods.Thefloweristhesamecolorastheweddingbandonherfinger.Irollonanelbowtofaceher.“Spititout.Whatdoyouwant?”“DoyouknowwhyIloveyou,Helldiver?”sheasks.“Becauseofmysenseofhumor.”Shelaughsdryly.“BecauseyouthoughtyoucouldwintheLaurel.Kieran
toldmehowyouburnedyourselftoday.”Isigh.“Therat.Alwaysjabbering.Thoughtthat’swhatyoungerbrothers
weresupposedtodo,notelder.”“Kieranwasfrightened,Darrow.Notforyou,likeyoumightbethinking.
Hewasfrightenedofyou,becausehecan’tdowhatyoudid.Boywouldn’teventhinkit.”Shealwaystalkscirclesaroundme.Ihatetheabstractsshelivesfor.“SoyoulovemebecauseyoubelievethatIthinktherearethingsworth
therisk?”Ipuzzleout.“OrbecauseI’mambitious?”“Becauseyou’veabrain,”sheteases.Shemakesmeaskitagain.“Whatdoyouwantmetodo,Eo?”“Act.Iwantyoutouseyourgiftsforyourfather’sdream.Youseehow
peoplewatchyou,taketheircuesfromyou.Iwantyoutothinkowningthisland,ourland,isworththerisk.”“Howmucharisk?”“Yourlife.Mylife.”Iscoff.“You’rethateagertoberidofme?”“Speakandtheywilllisten,”sheurges.“Itisthatbloodysimple.Allears
yearnforavoicetoleadthemthroughdarkness.”“Grand,soI’llhangwithatroop.Iammyfather’sson.”“Youwon’thang.”Ilaughtooharshly.“SocertainawifeIhave.I’llhang.”“You’renotmeanttobeamartyr.”Sighing,sheliesbackin
disappointment.“Youwouldn’tseethepointtoit.”“Oh?Wellthen,tellme,Eo.Whatisthepointtodying?I’monlya
martyr’sson.Sotellmewhatthatmanaccomplishedbyrobbingmeofafather.Tellmewhatgoodcomesofallthatbloodydamnsadness.Tellmewhyit’sbetterIlearnedtodancefrommyunclethanmyfather.”Igoon.“Didhisdeathputfoodonyourtable?Diditmakeanyofourlivesanybetter?Dyingforacausedoesn’tdoabloodydamnthing.Itjustrobbedusofhislaughter.”Ifeelthetearsburningmyeyes.“Itjuststoleawayafatherandahusband.Sowhatiflifeisn’tfair?Ifwehavefamily,thatisallthatshouldmatter.”Shelicksherlipsandtakeshertimeinreplying.“Deathisn’temptylikeyousayitis.Emptinessislifewithoutfreedom,
Darrow.Emptinessislivingchainedbyfear,fearofloss,ofdeath.Isaywebreakthosechains.BreakthechainsoffearandyoubreakthechainsthatbindustotheGolds,totheSociety.Couldyouimagineit?Marscouldbeours.Itcouldbelongtothecolonistswhoslavedhere,diedhere.”Herfaceiseasiertoseeasnightfadesthroughtheclearroof.Itisalive,onfire.“Ifyouledtheotherstofreedom.Thethingsyoucoulddo,Darrow.Thethingsyoucouldmakehappen.”ShepausesandIseehereyesareglistening.“Itchillsme.Youhavebeengivenso,somuch,butyousetyoursightssolow.”“Yourepeatthesamedamnpoints,”Isaybitterly.“Youthinkadreamis
worthdyingfor.Isayitisn’t.Yousayit’sbettertodieonyourfeet.Isayit’sbettertoliveonourknees.”“You’renotevenliving!”shesnaps.“Wearemachinemenwithmachine
minds,machinelives.…”“Andmachinehearts?”Iask.“That’swhatIam?”“Darrow…”“Whatdoyoulivefor?”Iaskhersuddenly.“Isitforme?Isitforfamily
andlove?Orisitforsomedream?”“It’snotjustsomedream,Darrow.Iliveforthedreamthatmychildren
willbebornfree.Thattheywillbewhattheylike.Thattheywillownthelandtheirfathergavethem.”“Iliveforyou,”Isaysadly.Shekissesmycheek.“Thenyoumustliveformore.”There’salong,terriblesilencethatstretchesbetweenus.Shedoesnot
understandhowherwordswrenchmyheart,howshecantwistmesoeasily.BecauseshedoesnotlovemelikeIloveher.Hermindistoohigh.Minetoolow.AmInotenoughforher?“Yousaidyouhadanothergiftforme?”Isay,changingthesubject.
Sheshakesherhead.“Someothertime.Thesunrises.Watchitwithmeonce,atleast.”Welieinsilenceandwatchlightslipintotheskyasthoughitwereatide
madefromfire.ItisunlikeanythingIcouldhavedreamedof.Ican’tstopthetearsthatwellinthecornersofmyeyesastheworldbeyondturnstolightandthegreensandbrownsandyellowsofthetreesintheroomarerevealed.Itisbeauty.Itisadream.Iamsilentaswereturntothegrimnessofthegrayducts.Thetearslinger
inmyeyesandasthemajestyofwhatIsawfades;IwonderwhatEowantsofme.DoesshewantmetotakemyslingBladeandstartarebellion?Iwoulddie.Myfamilywoulddie.Shewoulddie,andnothingwouldmakemeriskher.Sheknowsthat.Iampuzzlingoutwhatherothergiftmaybewhenweexittheductsfor
theWebbery.IrollfirstfromtheductandextendahandbacktoherwhenIhearavoice.Itisaccented,oily,fromEarth.“Redsinourgardens,”itoozes.“Ain’tthatathing.”
5
THEFIRSTSONG
UglyDanstandswiththreeTinpots.Theirthumpersperchcracklingintheirhands.TwoofthemenleanonthemetalrailsoftheWebbery’sgirders.Behindthem,thewomenofMuandUpsilonwrapsilkfromthewormsaroundlongsilverpoles.Theyshaketheirheadsinsistentlyatme,asiftellingmenottobefoolish.We’vegonebeyondthepermittedzones.Thiswillmeanaflogging,butifIresist,itwillmeandeath.TheywillkillEoandtheywillkillme.“Darrow…,”Eomurmurs.IsetmyselfbetweenEoandtheTinpots,butIdon’tfight.Iwon’tletus
dieforasimpleglimpseofthestars.IputmyhandsouttoletthemknowIwillsurrender.“Helldivers,”UglyDanchucklestotheothers.“Thetoughestantisyet
butanant.”Heswingshisthumperintomystomach.It’slikebeingbittenbyaviperandkickedbyaboot.Ifallgasping,handsonthemetalgrate.Electricityslithersthroughmyveins.Itastethebilerisinginmythroat.“Takeaswing,Helldiver,”Dancoos.Hedropsoneofthethumpersinfrontofme.“Please.Takeaswing.Won’tbeanyconsequences.Justsomefunbetweentheboys.Takeapiggin’swing.”“Doit,Darrow!”Eoshouts.I’mnotafool.IthrustmyhandsupinsurrenderandDansighsin
disappointmentasheclacksthemagneticmanaclesaroundmywrists.WhatwouldEohavehadmedo?Shecursesatthemastheylockherarms
togetheranddragusawaythroughtheWebberytothecells.Thiswillmeanthelash.ButitwillbejustthelashbecauseIdidnotpickupthethumper,becauseIdidnotlistentoEo.
It’sthreedaysinacellinthePotbeforeIseeEoagain.Bridge,oneoftheold,kinderTinpots,takesusouttogether;heletsustouch.Iwonderifshe’llspitatme,cursemeformyimpotence.Butsheonlygripsmyfingersandbringsherlipstomine.“Darrow.”Herlipsbrushmyear.Thebreathiswarm,thelipscracked
andtrembling.She’sfrailasshehugsme—alittlegirl,allwirewrappedinpaleskin.Herkneeswobbleandsheshuddersagainstme.ThewarmthIsawinherfaceaswewatchedthesunrisehasfledandleftherlikeafadedmemory.ButIhardlyseeanythingbuthereyesandherhair.IwrapmyarmsaroundherandhearthemutteringofthecrowdedCommon.Thefacesofourkinandclanstareatusaswestandattheedgeofthegallows,wheretheywillflogus.Ifeellikeachildundertheirstares,undertheyellowishlights.It’slikeadreamwhenEotellsmeshelovesme.Herhandlingerson
mine.Butthere’ssomethingstrangetohereyes.Theyshouldonlywhipher,yetherwordsarefinal,hereyessadbutnotafraid.Iseehermakingagoodbye.Anightmareiscomingtomyheart.Icanfeelitlikeanaildraggedalongthebonesofmyspineasshemurmursanepigraminmyear.“Breakthechains,mylove.”AndthenIamjerkedawayfromherbymyhair.Tearsstreamdownher
face.Theyareforme,thoughIdonotyetunderstandwhy.Icannotthink.Theworldisswimming.Iamdrowning.Roughhandsshovemetomyknees,thenjerkmeup.I’veneverheardtheCommonsoquiet.Theshufflingofmycaptors’feetechoesastheymovemearound.TheTinpotsfitmeintomyHelldiverfrysuit.Itsacridsmellmakesme
thinkIamsafe,Iamincontrol.Iamnot.I’mdraggedawayfromherintotheverycenteroftheCommonandtossedattheedgeofthegallows.Themetalstairsarerustedandstained.Igripthemwithmyhandsandlooktothetopofthegallows.Twenty-fouroftheheadTalkseachhaveacordofleather.Theywaitformeatoptheplatform.“Oh,thehorrorofsuchoccasionsasthis,myfriends,”Magistrate
Podginuscries.HiscoppergravBootshumabovemeashefloatsthroughtheair.“Oh,howthetiesthatbindusarestretchedwhenonedecidestobreakthelawswhichprotectusall.
“Eventheyoungest,eventhebest,aresubjecttoLaw.ToOrder!Withoutthesewewouldbeanimals!Withoutobedience,withoutdiscipline,therewouldbenocolonies!Andthosefewcoloniestherearewouldbetornasunderbydisorder!ManwouldbeconfinedtoEarth.Manwouldwallowforevermoreonthatplanetuntiltheendofdays.ButOrder!Discipline!Law!Thesearethethingswhichempowerourrace.Cursedisthecreaturewhobreakswiththesecompacts.”Thespeechismoreeloquentthanusual.Podginusistryingtoimpresshis
intelligenceuponsomeone.IlookupfromthestairsandseeasightIdidnoteverthinktoseewithmyowntwoeyes.Itstingstolookathim,todrinkintheradianceofhishair,ofhisSigils.IseeaGold.Inthisdrabplace,heiswhatIimagineangelswouldbelike.Cloakedingoldandblack.Wrappedinthesun.Alionroaringuponhisbreast.Hisfaceisolder,severe,andpurewithpower.Hishairshines,combed
backagainsthishead.Neitherasmilenorafrownmarkhisthinlips,andtheonlylineIseeisthatofascar,whichrunsalonghisrightcheekbone.I’velearnedfromtheHCthatsuchascarisborneonlybythefinestof
theGolds.ThePeerlessScarred,theycallthem—menandwomenoftherulingColorwhohavegraduatedfromtheInstitute,wheretheylearnthesecretsthatwillpermitmankindtoonedaycolonizealltheplanetsoftheSolarSystem.Hedoesnotspeaktous.HespeakstoanotherGold,onetallandthin,so
thinIthoughtitawomanatfirst.Withoutascar,theman’sfaceiscoatedwithstrangepastetobringoutthecolorofhischeeksandcoverthelinesonhisface.Hislipsshine.Andhishairglistensinawayhismaster’sdoesnot.Heisagrotesquethingtolookupon.Hethinkssoofus.Hesniffstheair,contemptuous.TheolderGoldspeakstohimsoftlyandnottous.Andwhyshouldhespeaktous?WearenotworthyofaGold’swords.I
scarcelywanttolookathim.IfeellikeIdirtyhisgoldandblackfinerywithmyredeyes.ShamecreepsuponmeandthenIrealizewhy.HisisafaceIknow.Itisafaceeverymanandwomanofthecolonies
wouldknow.BesidesOctaviaauLune,thisisthemostfamousfaceonMars—thatofNeroauAugustus.TheArchGovernorofMarshascometoseemeflogged,andhehasbroughtaretinue.TwoCrows(Obsidianstobetechnic)floatquietlybehindhim.TheirskullhelmetssuittheirColor.Iwasborntominetheearth.Theywereborntokillmen.MorethantwofeettallerthanI.Eightfingersoneachmassivehand.Theybreedthemforwar,andwatchingthemislikewatchingthecoldbloodedpitviperswhoinfestourmines.Reptilesboth.
Thereareadozenothersinhisretinue,includinganother,slighterGoldwhoseemshisapprentice.He’sevenmorebeautifulthantheArchGovernorandheappearstodislikethethin,womanishGold.AndthereisanHCcameracrewofGreens,tinycreaturescomparedwiththeCrows.Theirhairisdark.NotgreenliketheireyesandtheSigilsontheirhands.Freneticexcitementshimmersinthoseeyes.It’snotoftentheyhaveHelldiverstomakeintoanexample,sotheymakeaspectacleofme.Iwonderhowmanyotherminingcoloniesarewatching.Allofthem,iftheArchGovernorishere.Theymakeashowofstrippingawaythefrysuittheyonlyjustdressedme
in.IseemyselfontheHCdisplayabove,seemyweddingbanddanglingfromthecordaroundmyneck.IlookyoungerthanIfeel,thinner.Theyjerkmeupthestairsandbendmeoverametalboxbesidethenoosewheremyfatherhung.Ishiverastheylaymeacrossthecoldsteelandtightenmyhandsinrestraints.Ismellthesynthleatherofthelashes,hearoneoftheheadTalkscough.“Forevermore,letjusticebedone,”Podginussays.Thenthelashescome.Forty-eightinall.Theyaren’tsoft,notevenmy
uncle’s.Theycan’tbe.Thelashesbiteandwailintomyflesh,makingastrangekeeningnoiseastheyarchthroughtheair.Musicofterror.Icanbarelyseebytheendofit.Ipassouttwice,andeachtimeIwakeIwonderifyoucanseemyspineontheHC.It’sashow,allashowoftheirpower.TheylettheTinpot,UglyDan,act
sympathetic,asthoughhepitiesme.Hewhispersencouragementinmyearloudenoughforthecameras.Andwhenthelastlashslashesmyback,hestepsinasiftostopanotherfromcomingdown.Subconsciously,Ithinkhesavesme.I’mthankful.Iwanttokisshim.Heissalvation.ButIknowI’vehadmyforty-eight.Thentheyaredraggingmetotheside.Theyleavemyblood.I’msureI
screamed,sureIshamedmyself.Ihearthembringoutmywife.“Eventheyoung,eventhebeautifulcannotescapejustice.Itisforallthe
ColorsthatwepreserveOrder,Justice.Without,wewouldfindanarchy.WithoutObedience,chaos!ManwouldperishupontheirradiatedsandsofEarth.Hewoulddrinkfromtheblastedseas.Theremustbeunity.Forevermore,letjusticebedone.”MineMagistratePodginus’swordsringhollow.NooneisoffendedthatI’mbloodyandbeaten.ButwhenEoisdragged
atopthegallows,therearecries.Therearecurses.Evennowsheisbeautiful,evendrainedofthelightIsawinherthreedaysago.Evenasshe
seesmeandletsthetearscomedownherface,sheisanangel.Allthisforalittleadventure.Allthisforanightunderthestarswiththe
mansheloves.Yetsheiscalm.Ifthereisfear,itisinme,becauseIfeelastrangenessintheair.Herskinpricklesastheylayheracrossthecoldbox.Sheflinches.Iwishmybloodhadwarmeditbetterforher.WhentheywhipEo,Itrynottowatch.Butithurtsmoretoabandonher.
Hereyesfindmine.Theyshinelikerubies,twitcheverytimethelashfalls.Soonthiswillbeover,mylove.Soonwewillgobacktolife.Justlastthelashandwegeteverythingback.Butcansheeventakesomanylashes?“Endit,”IsaytotheTinpotbesideme.“Endit!”Ibegofhim.“I’lldo
anything.I’llobey.I’lltakeherlashes.Justendit,youbloodydamnbastards!Endit!”TheArchGovernorlooksdownatme,buthisfaceisgolden,poreless,and
withoutcare.Iamnothingbutthebloodiestofants.Mysacrificewillimpresshim.He’llfeelcompassionifIabasemyself,ifIthrowmyselfintothefireforlove.He’llfeelpity.Thisishowthestoriesgo.“YourExcellency,givemeherpunishment!”Iplead.“Please!”Ibeg
becauseinmywife’seyesIseesomethingthatterrifiesme.Iseefightinherastheystreakherbackbloody.Iseeangerbuildinginsideher.Thereisareasonsheisnotafraid.“No.No.No,”Ipleadtoher.“No,Eo.Please,no!”“Gagthatwretchedthing!HepricklestheArchGovernor’sears,”
Podginusorders.Bridgeforcesaknotofstoneintomymouth.Igagandcry.Asthethirteenthlashfalls,asImumbleforhernottodoit,Eostaresinto
myeyesonelastmomentandthenshebeginshersong.Itisaquietsound,amournfulsound,likethesongthedeepmineswhisperaswindmovesintheabandonedshafts.Itisthesongofdeathandlament,thesongthatisforbidden.ThesongIhaveonlyheardoncebefore.Forthis,theywillkillher.Hervoiceissoftandtrue,neverasbeautifulasshe.Itechoesacrossthe
Common,risinguplikeaSiren’sunearthlycall.Thelashespause.TheheadTalksshiver.EventheTinpotssadlyshaketheirheadswhentheyplacethewords.Fewmentrulylikeseeingbeautyburn.PodginusglancesembarrassedlyoveratArchGovernorAugustus,who
descendsongoldengravBootstowatchmoreclosely.Hisshininghairglistensagainsthisnoblebrow.Highcheekbonescatchthelight.Thosegoldeneyesexaminemywifeasthoughawormhadsuddenlysproutedabutterfly’swings.Hisscarcurvesashespeakswithavoicedrippingpower.
“Lethersing,”hesaystoPodginus,notbotheringtohidehisfascination.“But,mylord…”“Noanimalbutmanthrowsthemselveswillinglyintotheflames,Copper.
Relishthesight.You’llnotseeitagain.”Tohiscameracrew:“Continuerecording.Wewilleditoutthepartswefindintolerable.”Howfutilehiswordsmakehersacrificeseem.ButneverhasEobeenmorebeautifultomethaninthatmoment.Inthe
faceofcoldpower,sheisfire.Thisisthegirlwhodancedthroughthesmokytavwithamaneofred.Thisisthegirlwhowovemeaweddingbandofherownhair.Thisisthegirlwhochoosestodieforasongofdeath.
Mylove,myloveRememberthecriesWhenwinterdiedforspringskiesTheyroaredandroaredButwegrabbedourseedAndsowedasongAgainsttheirgreed
AndDowninthevaleHearthereaperswing,thereaperswingthereaperswingDowninthevaleHearthereapersingAtaleofwinterdone
Myson,mysonRememberthechainsWhengoldruledwithironreinsWeroaredandroaredAndtwistedandscreamedForours,avaleofbetterdreams
Ashervoicefinallyswellsandthesongrunsoutofwords,IknowIhavelosther. She becomes something more important; and she was right, I do notunderstand.“Aquainttune.Butisthatallyouhave?”theArchGovernorasksher
whensheisthrough.Helooksatherbuthespeaksloudly,tothecrowd,tothosewhowillwatchintheothercolonies.HisentouragechucklesatEo’sweapon,asong.Whatisasongbutnotesuntotheair?Uselessasamatchinastormagainsthispower.Heshamesus.“Doanyofyouwishtojoinherinsong?Iimploreyou,boldRedsof…”Helookstohisassistant,whomouthsthename.“…Lykos,joinhernowifyouwish.”Icanbarelybreathepastthestone.Itchipsmymolars.Tearsstream
downmyface.Novoicesrisefromthecrowd.Iseemymothertremblingwithanger.Kieranclutcheshiswifeclose.Narolstaresattheground.Loranweeps.Theyareallhere,allquiet.Allafraid.“Alas,YourExcellency,wefindthegirlaloneinherzealotry,”Podginus
declares.Eohaseyesonlyforme.“’Tisclearheropinionisanoutlier’s,anoutcast’s.Mayhapsweshouldproceed?”“Yes,”theArchGovernorsaysidly.“IhaveanappointmentwithArcos.
Hangtherustybitchlestshecontinuetohowl.”
6
THEMARTYR
ForEo,Idonotreact.Iamanger.Iamhatred.Everything.ButIholdhergazeevenastheytakeherawayandfitthenoosearoundherneck.IlookupatBridgeandhequietlytakesthegagfrommymouth.Myteethwillneverbethesame.TearsbuildintheTinpot’seyes.IleavehimandstumblenumblytothebottomofthescaffoldsoEocanseemeasshedies.Thisisherchoice.Iwillbewithhertotheend.Myhandsshake.Sobscomefromthecrowdbehindme.“Thelastwords,towhomwillyouspeakthembeforejusticeisdone?”
Podginusasksher.Hedripssympathyforthecamera.Ireadyforhertosaymyname,butshedoesnot.Hereyesneverleave
mine,butshecallshersisterout.“Dio.”Thewordtremblesintheair.Sheisfrightenednow.IdonotreactasDioclimbsthescaffoldstairs;Idonotunderstand,butIwillnotbejealous.Thisisnotaboutme.Iloveher.Andherchoiceismade.Idonotunderstand,butIwillnotletherdieknowinganythingbutmylove.UglyDanhastohelpDioclimbthegallows;she’sstumblingandsenseless
assheleansclosetohersister.Whateverissaid,Idonothear;butDioletslooseamoanthatwillhauntmeforever.Shelooksatmeassheweeps.Whatdidmywifetellher?Womenarecrying.Menwipetheireyes.TheyhavetostunDiotopullheraway,butsheclingstoEo’sfeet,weeping.ThereisanodfromtheArchGovernor,thoughhedoesn’tevencareenoughtowatchas,likemyfather,Eoishanged.
“Liveformore,”shemouthstome.ShereachesintoherpocketandpullsoutthehaemanthusIgaveher.Itissmashedandflat.Thenloudlyshescreamstoallthosegathered,“Breakthechains!”Thetrapdoorbeneathherfeetopens.Shefalls,andforonemoment,her
hairhangssuspendedaboutherhead,aflourishofred.Thenherfeetscrambleatairandshefalls.Herslimthroatgags.Eyesopensowide.IfonlyIcouldsaveherfromthis.IfonlyIcouldprotecther;buttheworldiscoldandhardtome.ItdoesnotbendasIwishittobend.Iamweak.Iwatchmywifedieandmyhaemanthusfallfromherhand.Thecamerarecordsitall.Irushforwardtokissherankle.Icradleherlegs.Iwillnotlethersuffer.OnMarsthereisnotmuchgravity,soyouhavetopullthefeettobreak
theneck.Theyletthelovedonesdoit.Soon,thereisnosound,noteventhecreakingoftherope.Mywifeistoolight.Shewasonlyjustagirl.ThenthethumpingoftheFadingDirgebegins.Fistsonchests.
Thousands.Fast,likearacingheartbeat.Slower.Abeatasecond.Abeateveryfive.Everyten.Thenneveragain,andthemournfulmassfadesawaylikedustheldinthepalmastheoldtunnelswailwithdeepwinds.AndtheGolds,theyflyaway.
Eo’sfather,Loran,andKieransitbymydoorthroughthenight.Theysaytheyaretheretokeepmecompany.Buttheyaretheretoguardme,toensureIdonotdie.Iwanttodie.Motherdressesmywoundwithsilkmysister,Leanna,stolefromtheWebbery.“Keepthenervenucleicdry,oryouwillscar.”Whatarescars?Howlittletheymatter.Eowillnotseethem,sowhy
shouldIcare?Shewillnotrunherhandalongmyback.Shewillneverkissmywounds.Sheisgone.IlieinourbedonmybacksoIcanfeelthepainandforgetmywife.ButI
cannotforget.Shehangsevennow.Inthemorning,Iwillpassheronthewaytothemines.Soonshewillstinkandsoonshewillrot.Mybeautifulwifeshonetoobrighttolivelong.Istillfeelherneckcrackingagainstmyhands;theytremblenowinthenight.ThereisahiddentunnelIcarvedinmybedroomlongagointherocksoI
couldsneakoutasachild.Iuseitnow.Ileaveoutthesecretpath,climbing
stealthilydownfrommyhome,somykinneverseemeslipawayinthelowlight.Itisquietinthetownship.QuietexceptfortheHC,whichmakesmywife
dietoasoundtrack.Theyintendedtoshowthefutilityofdisobedience.Andtheysucceedinthat,butthereissomethingelseinthevideo.Theyshowmyflogging,andEo’s,andtheyplayhersongthroughout.Andasshedies,theyplayitagain,whichseemstogivethevideothewrongeffect.Evenifshewerenotmywife,Iseeamartyr,ayounggirl’sprettysongsilencedbytheropeofcruelmen.ThentheHCflashesblackforseveralmoments.Ithasnevergoneto
blackbefore.AndOctaviaauLunecomesbackonwiththesameoldmessage.Italmostseemsasthoughsomeonehashackedintothebroadcast,becausemywifeflickersontothegiantscreenagain.“Breakthechains!”shecries.Thenshe’sgoneandthescreenisblack.It
crackles.Theimagecomesback.Shecriesitagain.Blackoncemore.Standardprogramminggoesup,thenitcutstoherscreamingonelasttimeandthenthere’smepullingherlegs.Thenstatic.ThestreetsarequietasImakemywaytotheCommon.Thenightshift
willbereturningsoon.ThenIhearanoiseandamanstepsintothestreetinfrontofme.Myuncle’sfaceleersatmefromtheshadows.Asinglebulbhangsoverhishead,illuminatingtheflaskinhishandandhistatteredredshirt.“Youareyourfather’sson,littlebastard.Stupidandvain.”Myhandsclench.“Cometostopme,Uncle?”Hegrunts.“Couldn’tstopyourfatherfromkillinghisbloodyself.Andhe
wasabetterbloodymanthanyou.Morerestraintinhim.”Istepforward.“Idon’tneedyourpermission.”“Nay,youlittlesquabber,youdon’t.”Herunsahandthroughhishair.
“Don’tdowhatyou’regonnado,though.It’llbreakyourmother;youmightthinkshedidn’tknowyou’dslipout.Shedid.Toldmeso.Saidyouweregonnagodielikemybrother,likeyourgirl.”“IfMotherknew,shewouldhavestoppedme.”“Nah.Sheletsusmenmakeourownmistakes.Butthisain’twhatyour
girlwould’vewanted.”Ipointafingeratmyuncle.“Youdon’tknowathing.Notathingabout
whatshewanted.”EosaidIwouldn’tunderstandbeingamartyr.IwillshowherIdo.“Righto,”hesayswithashrug.“I’llwalkwithyou,then,sinceyourhead
isfullofrocks.”Hechuckles.“WeLambdasdolovethenoose.”
HetossesmehisflaskandIfallintotentativestepbesidehim.“Itriedtotalkyourfatheroutofhislittleprotest,youknow.Toldhim
wordsanddancemeanasmuchasdust.Triedsquaringupwithhim.Isquabbedthatoneup.Helaidmedowncold.”Hethrowsaslowright.“Comesatimeinlifewhenyouknowamanhashismindsetandit’saninsulttogainsay.”Idrinkfromhisflaskandhanditback.Theswilltastesstrangeand
thickerthanusual.Strange.Hemakesmefinishtheflask.“Your’sset?”heasks,tappinghishead.“Courseitis.Iforget,Itaught
youhowtodance.”“Stubbornasapitviper,wasn’tthathowyouputit?”Isayquietly,
allowingalittlesmile.Iwalkinsilenceforamomentwithmyuncle.Heputsahandonmy
shoulder.Asobwantstocomeoutofmychest.Iswallowit.“Sheleftme,”Iwhisper.“Justleftme.”“Mustahadareason.Notadumbgirl,thatone.”ThetearscomeasIentertheCommon.Myuncletakesmeinaone-
armedhugandkissesthecrownofmyhead.It’sallhecanoffer.He’snotamanmadeforaffection.Hisfaceispaleandghostly.Thirty-fiveandsoold,sotired.Ascartwistshisupperlip.Graystreakshisthickhair.“Tellthemhelloformeinthevale,”hesaysintomyear,hisbeardcoarse
againstmyneck.“Givemybrothersatoastandmywifeakiss,speciallyDancer.”“Dancer?”“You’llknowhim.Andifyouseeyourgrampandgran,tellthemwestill
danceforthem.Theywon’tbelongalone.”Hewalksaway,thenpausesandwithoutturningsays,“Breakthechains.Hear?”“Hear.”HeleavesmethereintheCommonwithmyswayingwife.Iknowthe
cameraswatchmefromthecanasIwalkupthegallows.Itismetal,sothestairsdon’tcreak.Shehangslikeadoll.Herfaceispaleaschalkandherhairshiftsslightlyastheventilatorsraspabove.WhentheropehasbeencutwiththeslingBladeIstolefromthemines,I
grabitsfrayedendandlowerherdowngently.ItakemywifeinmyarmsandtogetherwendourwayfromthesquaretotheWebbery.Anightshiftisworkingtheirfinalhours.ThewomenwatchinsilenceasIcarryEototheventilationduct.ThereIseeLeanna,mysister.Tallandquietlikemymother,shewatchesmewithhardeyes,butshedoesnothing.Noneofthewomendo.Theywillnotgossipaboutwheremywifeisburied.Theywill
notspeak,notevenforthechocolategiventospies.Onlyfivesoulshavebeenburiedinthreegenerations—someonealwayshangsforit.Thisistheultimateactoflove.Eo’ssilentrequiem.Womenbegintocry,andasIpasstheyreachtotouchEo’sface,totouch
mineandhelpmeopentheventilationduct.Idragmywifethroughthetightmetalspace,takinghertowherewemadelovebeneaththestars,whereshetoldmeherplansandIdidnotlisten.Iholdherlifelessbodyandhopehersoulseesmeinaplacewherewewerehappy.Idigaholenearthebaseofatree.Myhands,coveredwiththedirtofour
land,areredlikeherhairasItakeherhandandkissherweddingband.Iplacetheouterbulbofthehaemanthusatopherheartandtaketheinnerandputitnearmyown.ThenIkissherlipsandburyher.ButIsobbeforeIcanfinish.IuncoverherfaceandkissheragainandholdmybodytoherstillIseearedsunrisingthroughtheartificialbubbleroof.ThecolorsoftheplacescaldmyeyesandIcannotstopmytears.WhenIpullaway,Iseemyheadbandpokingfromherpocket.Shemadeitformetotakemysweat.Igiveitmytearsnowandtakeitwithme.
Kieranstrikesmeinthefacewhenheseesmebackinthetownship.Lorancannotspeak,whileEo’sfatherslumpsagainstawall.Theythinktheyfailedme.IhearEo’smother’scries.Mymothersaysnothingasshemakesmeameal.Idon’tfeelwell.It’shardtobreathe.Leannacomesinlateandhelpsher,kissingmeontheheadasIeat,lingeringlongenoughtosmellmyhair.ImustuseonehandasImovethefoodfromplatetomouth.Mymotherholdsmyotherhandbetweenhercallusedpalms.Shewatchesitinsteadofme,asthoughrememberingwhenitwassmallandsoftandwonderinghowitbecamesohard.IfinishthemealjustasUglyDancomes.Mymotherdoesnotleavethe
tableasI’mpulledaway.Hereyesstayfixedonwheremyhandlay.Ithinkshebelievesifshedoesnotlookup,thiswillnothappen.Evenshecanonlybearsomuch.Theywillhangmebeforeafullassemblyatnineinthemorning.I’m
dizzyforsomereason.Myheartfeelsfunny,slow.IheartheArchGovernor’swordstomywifeecho.“Isthatallyourstrength?”Mypeoplesing,wedance,welove.Thatisourstrength.Butwealsodig.
Andthenwedie.Seldomdowegettochoosewhy.Thatchoiceispower.Thatchoicehasbeenouronlyweapon.Butitisnotenough.
Theygivememylastwords.IcallDioup.Hereyesarebloodshotandswollen.She’safragilething,sounlikehersister.“WhatwereEo’slastwords?”Iaskher,thoughmymouthmovesslowly,
oddly.SheglancesbacktoMother,whofinallyfollowedbutnowshakesher
head.Thereissomethingtheyarenottellingme.Somethingtheydon’twantmetoknow.AsecretheldbackeventhoughIamabouttodie.“Shesaidshelovedyou.”Idon’tbelieveher,butIsmileandkissherforehead.Shecan’thandle
morequestions.AndI’mdizzy.Hardtospeak.“I’lltellheryousayhello.”Idonotsing.Iammadeforotherthings.Mydeathissenseless.Itislove.ButEowasright,Idon’tunderstandthis.Thisisnotmyvictory.Thisis
selfish.Shetoldmetoliveformore.Shewantedmetofight.ButhereIam,dyingdespitewhatshewanted.Givingupbecauseofthepain.Ipanicassuicidesdowhentheyrealizetheirfolly.Toolate.Ifeelthedoorbeneathmeopen.Mybodyfalls.Ropeflaysmyneck.My
spinecreaks.Needleslancemylumbar.Kieranstumblesforward.UncleNarolshoveshimaway.Withawink,hetouchesmyfeetandpulls.Ihopetheydonotburyme.
PARTII
REBORN
Thereisafestivalwherewewearthefacesofdemonstowardevilspiritsfromourdeadinthevale.Thefacessparklewithfool’sgold.
7
LAZARUS
IdonotseeEoindeath.Mykinbelieveweseeourlovedoneswhenwepasson.Theywaitforusinagreenvalewherewoodfiresmokeandthescentofstewsthickentheair.ThereisanOldManwithdewonhiscapwhomakessafethevale,andhestandswithourkinwaitingforusalongastoneroadbesidewhichsheepgraze.Theysaythemistthereisfreshandtheflowerssweet,andthosewhoareburiedpassalongthestoneroadfaster.ButIdonotseemylove.Idonotseethevale.Iseenothingbutphantom
lightsindarkness.Ifeelpressure,andIknow,aswouldanyminer,thatIamburiedbeneaththeearth.Ilooseasoundlessscream.Dirtentersmymouth.Panicfillsme.Icannotbreathe,cannotmove.TheearthhugsmetillfinallyIclawmywayfree,feelair,gaspoxygen,pantandspitdirt.ItisminutesbeforeIlookupfrommyknees.Icrouchinanabandoned
mine,anoldtunnellongdesertedbutstillconnectedtotheventilationsystem.Itsmellsofdirt.Asingleflareburnsbesidemygrave,splayingweirdshadowsoverthewalls.ItsingesmysightlikethesundidasitroseoverEo’sgrave.I’mnotdead.Therealizationtakeslongerincomingthanonemighthavethought.But
there’sabloodywoundaroundmyneckwheretheropecuttheskin.There’sdirtinthelashesonmyback.Still,I’mnotdead.UncleNaroldidn’tpullmyfeethardenough.ButsurelytheTinpots
wouldhavechecked,unlesstheywerelazy.Notastretchtothinkthat,butsomethingelseisatplay.IwastoowoozywhenIwalkedtothegallows.Ifeelsomethinginmyveinsevennow,alethargyasthoughI’vebeendrugged.Naroldidthis.Hedruggedme.Heburiedme.Butwhy?Andhowwouldheescapebeingcaughtwhenhepulledmybodydown?Whenalowrumblingcomesfromthedarknessbeyondtheflare,IknowI
willhaveanswers.Atumbler,likeametalbeetleonsixwheels,crawlsoverthecrestofalongtunnel.Itsfrontgrillehissessteamasitcomestoastopinfrontofme.Eighteenlightssingemyvision;shapesexitthesidesofthevehicle,cuttingacrosstheglareoftheheadlightstograbme.I’mtoostunnedtoresist.Theirhandsarecallusedlikeminers’andtheirfacesarecoveredwithOctobernachtdemonmasks.Yettheymovemegently,guidinginsteadofforcingmeintothetumbler’shatch.Insidethetumbler,theglobelightisredandbloody.Isitinawornmetal
bucketseatacrossfromthetwofiguresthatfetchedmefrommygrave.Thefemale’smaskispalewhiteandgold,hornedlikeacacodemon.Hereyesglitterdarklyoutfromtheeyeholes.Theotherfigureisatimidman.He’swillowyandquiet,seeminglyfrightenedofme.Hissnarlingbatfacemaskcan’tconcealhisshyglancesorthewayinwhichhehideshishands—atraitofthefrightened,asUncleNarolalwaysclaimedwhenhetaughtmetodance.“You’reSonsofAres,aren’tyou?”Iguess.Theweaklingflinches,whilethewoman’seyesaremocking.“Andyou’reLazarus,”shesays.Ifindhervoicecold,lazy;itplayswith
theearsasacatplayswithacaughtmouse.“IamDarrow.”“Oh,weknowwhoyouare.”“Don’ttellhimanything,Harmony!”theweaklinggibbers.“Dancer
didn’ttellustodiscussanythingwithhimtillwegethome.”“Thankyou,Ralph.”Harmonysighsattheweaklingandshakesher
head.Afterrealizinghiserror,theweaklingshiftsuncomfortablyinhisbucket
seat,butI’vestoppedpayinghimanymind.Here,thewomanisking.Unliketheweakling’s,hermaskislikethatofanoldcrone,oneofthewitchesofEarth’sfallencitieswhomadesoupfromthemarrowofchildren’sbones.“You’reamess.”Harmonyreachestotouchmyneck.Igrabherhand
andsqueeze.HerbonesarebrittleashollowplasticinaHelldiver’shand.Theweaklingreachesforhisthumper,butHarmonymotionshimtocalm
down.“WhyamInotdead?”Iask.Afterthehanging,myvoiceislikegravel
draggedovermetal.“BecauseAreshasamissionforyou,littleHelldiver.”ShewincesasIsqueezeherhand.“Ares…”Mymindflashestoimagesofbombblasts,disembodiedlimbs,
chaos.Ares.Iknowwhatsortofmissionhe’llwant.I’mtoonumbtoevenknowwhatI’llsaywhenheasks.MymindisonEo,notthislife.Iamashell.WhycouldInothavestayedintheground?“MayIhavemyhandbacknow?”Harmonyasks.“Ifyoutakeoffyourmask.Otherwise,I’mkeepingit.”Shelaughsandstripsawayhermask.Herfaceisdayandnight—the
rightsidearaggedanddistendedmessofskinrunningandfoldingtogetherinsmoothscarrivers.Asteamburn.Afamiliarsight,butnotonwomen.Rareforawomantobeonadrillteam.Yetitistheunburnedsideofherfacethatstartles.Sheisbeautiful,more
beautifuleventhanEo.Skinsoft,paleasmilk,bonesprominentanddelicate.Yetshelookssocold,soangryandcruel.Herbottomteethareunevenandhernailspoorlymaintained.Shehasknivesinherboots.IcantellbythewaysheflincheddownwhenIgrabbedherhand.Theweakling,Ralph,isunremarkablyugly—darkfacelikeahatchet,
teethallajarandgrimy.Hestaresoutthetumbler’swindowhatchaswedrivethroughabandonedtunnelstillwereachlitpavedtunnelroadsmeantforfastmoving.IdonotknowtheseReds,andthoughtheyhavetheRedSigilemblazonedontheirhands,Idonottrustthem.TheyarenotofLambdaorLykos.MightaswellbeSilvers.EventuallyIglimpseotherutilityvehiclesandtumblersoutthehatch.I
don’tknowwhereweare,yetthatbothersmelessthantheswellingsadnessinmychest.ThefartherwerideandthemoretimeI’mgiventomythoughts,theworsethepainbecomes.Ifingermyweddingband.Eoisstilldead.She’snotwaitingformeattheendofthisride.WhydidIsurvivewhenshedidnot?WhydidIpullherfeetsohard?Couldshehavelivedtoo?Mygutsfeellikeablackhole.Aterribleweightcompressesmychest,andIachetojustjumpfromthetumblerintothepathofautilityvehicle.Deathiseasywhenyou’vealreadytriedtofindit.ButIdon’tjump;IsitwithHarmonyandRalph.Eowantedmoreforme.
Iclenchthescarletheadbandinmyfist.Thetunnelroadwidensslightlywhenwecometoacheckpointmannedby
dirtyTinpotsinworndowngear.Theelectricgateisn’tevencharged.They
letthetumbleraheadofusthroughafterscanningapanelonitsside.Thenit’sourturnandI’mshiftinguncomfortablyinmyseatrightalongwithRalph.Harmonychucklesdisdainfullyasthegrey-hairedTinpotscansthesideofthetumblerandwavesusthroughthegate.“Wehaveapasscode.Nobrainsinslaves.MineTinpotsareidiots.It’sthe
Greyelites,ortheObsidianmonstersyouwatchoutfor.Buttheydon’twastetheirtimedownhere.”IamtryingtoconvincemyselfthatthisallisnotsomeGoldtrick,that
HarmonyandRalpharenotenemies,whenwepulloffthemaintunnelroadintoacul-de-sacofutilitywarehousesnotmuchlargerthantheCommon.Harshsulfurlightshangdownfromutilityfixtures.Halfthebulbsareburnedout.Oneflickersonandoffaboveagaragenearawarehousemarkedwithaqueersymboldoneinstrangepaint.Westeerintothegarage.ThedoorclosesandHarmonymotionsformetogetoutofthetumbler.“Homesweethome,”shesays.“NowtimetomeetDancer.”
8
DANCER
Dancerlooksthroughme.He’snearenoughmyheight,whichisrare.Buthe’sthickandterriblyold,maybeinhisforties.Whiteswirlsfromhistemples.Adozentwinscarsmarkhisneck.I’veseentheirsortbefore.Pitviperbites.Thearmontheleftsideofhisbodyhangslimp.Nervedamage.Buthiseyesarrestme;theyarebrighterthanmost,swirlingwithpatternsoftruered,notrustred.Hehasafatherlysmile.“Youmustbewonderingwhoweare,”Dancersaysgently.He’sbigbut
hisvoiceiseasy.EightRedsarewithhim,allmenexceptforHarmony,andtheywatchhimwithadoringeyes.Allminers,Ithink,eachwiththescarred,stronghandsofourkind.Theymovewiththegraceofourpeople.Nodoubtsomewerejumpersandboasters,aswecallthosewhorunalongthewallsandperformtheflipsatdances.AnyHelldivers?“He’snotwondering.”Harmonytakestimewiththewords,rollingthem
alonghertongue.ShesqueezesDancer’shandasshepassesaroundhimtolookatme.“Bloodydamnruntpeggeditanhourago.”“Ah.”Dancersmilessoftlyather.“Ofcoursehedid,otherwiseAres
wouldn’thaveaskedustoriskextractinghimhere.Doyouknowwhere‘here’is,Darrow?”“Itdoesn’tmatter,”Imurmur.Ilookaroundatthewalls,themen,the
swayinglights.Everythingissocold,sodirty.“Whatmattersis…”Ifailtofinishmyownsentence.AthoughtofEoseversmyvoice.“Whatmattersisthatyouwantsomethingfromme.”
“Yes,thatmatters,”saysDancer.Hishandtouchesmyshoulder.“Butthatcanwait.I’msurprisedyou’restanding.Thewoundsonyourbackaresullied.You’llneedantibacandskinrestostopthescarring.”“Scarsdon’tmatter,”Isay.Istareatthetwoblooddropsthattrickle
frommyshirttailtothefloor.MywoundsreopenedwhenIclimbedfromthegrave.“Eois…dead,yes?”“Yes.Sheis.Wecouldn’tsaveher,Darrow.”“Whynot?”Iask.“Wejustcouldn’t.”“Whynot?”Irepeat.Iglareupathim,glareathisfollowersandhissthe
wordsonebyone.“Yousavedme.Youcouldhavesavedher.Sheistheoneyouwouldhavewanted.Thebloodydamnmartyr.Shecaredaboutallthis.OrdoesAresonlyneedSons,notDaughters?”“Martyrsareadimeadozen.”Harmonyyawns.Islipforwardlikeaserpentandgrabheraroundthethroat;wavesof
angerripplethroughmyfacetillitgoesnumbandIfeeltearswellingbehindmyeyes.Scorcherswhineasthey’reprimedaroundme.Onejamsintothebackofmyneck.Ifeelitscoldmuzzle.“Lethergo!”someoneshouts.“Doit,boy!”Ispitatthem,shakeHarmonyonceandtossheraside.Shecroucheson
thefloor,hacking,andthenaknifeglimmersinherhandassherises.Dancerstumblesbetweenus.“Stopit!Bothofyou!Darrow,please!”“Yourgirlwasadreamer,boy,”HarmonyspitsatmefromDancer’s
otherside.“Asworthlessasaflameoverwater…”“Harmony,shutyourbloodydamngob,”Dancerbarks.“Putthosedamn
thingsaway.”Thescorchersgoquiet.Atensesilencefollowsandheleansinclosetospeakwithme.Hisvoicelowers.Mybreathisfast.“Darrow,we’refriends.We’refriends.Now,Ican’tanswerforAres—whyhecouldn’thelpussaveyourgirl;Iamjustoneofhishands.Ican’twashawaythepain.Ican’tbringyourwifebacktoyou.But,Darrow,lookatme.Lookatme,Helldiver.”Ido.Rightintothoseblood-redeyes.“Ican’tdomanythings.ButIcanbringyoujustice.”DancergoestoHarmonyandwhisperssomething,likelytellingherthat
we’retobefriends.Wewon’tbe.ButIpromisenottochokeherandshepromisesnottostabme.Sheisquietassheguidesmefromtheothersthroughcrampedmetal
hallwaystoasmalldooropenedbytwistingaknob.Ourfeetechooverrustingwalkways.Theroomissmallandlitteredwithtablesandmedicalsupplies.Shehasmestripandsitononeofthecoldtablessoshecanclean
mywounds.Herhandsarenotgentleastheyscrubdirtfrommylaceratedback.Itrynottoscream.“You’reafool,”shesaysasshescrapesrockoutofadeepwound.I
wheezeinpainandtrytosaysomething,butshejamsherfingerintomyback,cuttingmeshort.“Dreamerslikeyourwifearelimited,littleHelldiver.”ShemakessureI
don’tspeak.“Understandthat.Theonlypowertheyhaveisindeath.Thehardertheydie,theloudertheirvoice,thedeepertheechoes.Butyourwifeservedherpurpose.”Herpurpose.Itsoundssocold,sodistantandsad,asthoughmygirlof
smilesandlaughterwasmeantfornothingbutdeath.Harmony’swordscarveintomeandIstareatthemetalgratingbeforeturningtolookintoherangryeyes.“Thenwhatisyourpurpose?”Iask.Sheholdsupherhands,cakedwithdirtandblood.“Thesameasyours,littleHelldiver.Tomakethedreamcometrue.”
AfterHarmonyscoursmybackofdirtandgivesmeadoseofantibac,shetakesmetoaroomnexttohumminggenerators.Thesquatquartersarelinedwithcotsandaliquidflush.Sheleavesmetoit.Theshowerisaterrifyingthing.Thoughit’sgentlerthantheairoftheFlush,halfthetimeIfeellikeI’mdrowning,theotherhalfIfindamixtureofecstasyandagony.Iturntheheatnozzletillsteamrisesthickandpainlancesmyback.Clean,Idressinthestrangegarmentsthey’vesetoutforme.It’snota
jumpsuitorhomespunweavelikeI’musedtowearing.Thematerialissleek,elegant,likesomethingsomeoneofadifferentColorwouldwear.DancercomesintotheroomwhenI’mhalfdressed.Hisleftfootdrags
behindhim,almostasuselessashisleftarm.Yetstillhe’sanimpressiveman,thickerthanBarlow,handsomerthanmedespitehisageandthebitescarsonhisneck.Hecarriesatinbowlandsitsononeofthecots,whichcreaksagainsthisweight.“Wesavedyourlife,Darrow.Soyourlifeisours,doyounotagree?”“Myunclesavedmylife,”Isay.“Thedrunk?”Dancersnorts.“Thebestthingheeverdidwastellus
aboutyou.Andheshouldhavedonethatwhenyouwereaboy,buthekeptyouasecret.He’sworkedforussincebeforeyourfather’sdeathasaninformer,youknow.”“Ishehangednow?”
“Nowthathepulledyoudown?Ishouldhopenot.Wegavehimajammertoshutofftheirancientcameras.Hedidtheworkofaghost.”UncleNarol.HeadTalk,butdrunkasafool.Ialwaysthoughthimweak.
Hestillis.Nostrongmanwoulddrinklikehimorbesobitter.ButheneverearnedthedisdainIgavehim.YetwhydidhenotsaveEo?“Youactlikemyunclebloodydamnowedyou,”Isay.“Heoweshispeople.”“People.”Ilaughattheterm.“Thereisfamily.Thereisclan.Theremay
evenbetownshipandmine,butpeople?People.Andyouactasthoughyou’remyrepresentative,asthoughyouhavearighttomylife.Butyouarejustafool,allyouSonsofAres.”Myvoiceiswitheringinitscondescension.“Foolswhocandonothingbutblowthingsup.Likechildrenkickingpitvipernestsinrage.”That’swhatIwanttodo.Iwanttokick,tolashout.That’swhyIinsult
him,that’swhyIspitontheSonseventhoughIhavenorealcausetohatethem.Dancer’shandsomefacecurlsintoatiredsmile,andit’sonlythenthatI
realizehowfeeblehisdeadarmre