For Darkness Shows the Stars - Part 16
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Part 16

We can't escape who we are born to be, Kai. The Reduced are Reduced. They will always be Reduced. And I will always be a Luddite. I was born this way. I will die this way. I can't turn my back on that. Luddites were handed a sacred trust-we are the caretakers of humanity. Without us, the world would have burned, and all mankind would have been destroyed. I cannot ignore that. I cannot forget who I am.

But you are not a Luddite.

That's why I cannot go with you. And also why I can't ask you to stay.

G.o.d be with you.

Yours, Elliot.

Twenty-six.

ELLIOT HAD ALWAYS HATED the birthing house. Of all the indignities the Reduced were forced to endure on the North estate, this was the worst. Left to their own devices, too many Reduced women harmed themselves or their unborn babies during the final stages of pregnancy. Many, following some sort of primal, animal instinct, wandered off the estate and hid when they went into labor. Without a.s.sistance, they didn't survive the birth. Afterward, it was no easier-both Reduced mother and baby needed special care. Long ago, it had been deemed necessary to literally confine mothers for the months before and after birth, which came with its own troubles, especially when there weren't enough caretakers on the estate.

Eighteen years ago, the mothers of Ro and Kai had died in the birthing house when the estate's healers had been called to Victoria North's bedside to deliver Elliot. They'd died helpless and alone, and it was a miracle that they hadn't taken their newborn infants with them.

And now Dee was trapped here, with a single Post nurse to watch over her and all the pregnant Reduced women and their babies. Elliot could hardly contain her dismay when she saw her friend among the cots, surrounded by bawling infants and their exhausted, hollow-eyed mothers. The windows had been shut to keep out the cold, and the smell of sour milk and soiled baby clothes hung in the stale air.

"Don't feel bad for me, Elliot," Dee said, her tone more cheerful than it had any right to be. She was knitting despite the gloom. It was winter, so there weren't even any fresh flowers Elliot could have brought in to relieve the drab daub walls and everyone's plain gowns. She needed to recruit Ro and her house-grown blooms. "I'm experienced at this now. And I have the opportunity to help these women get the hang of things."

Around them, the Reduced women in the other beds lolled, staring dumbly at the ceilings and occasionally moaning with discomfort. The ones in the latest stages of their pregnancy were even secured to their beds to keep them from wandering off. Elliot abhorred the practice, but there was little choice in the matter-there weren't enough people to watch over them. Several of the women in the beds nearest Dee were Elliot's age, or even younger. Elliot balled her hands in her lap. Ro would wither here. These other Reduced girls must be miserable.

"How's Jef?" Dee asked, her bright tone not fooling Elliot at all.

"Staying with Gill and Mags," said Elliot. "He's helping Gill in the dairy today, but he said he'd be by this afternoon."

"I'm glad there are still Posts on this land to take care of him in my absence," said Dee. "He's not old enough to be on his own, as Kai was when Mal pa.s.sed."

"I don't know if Kai was old enough to be on his own, either. Maybe he wouldn't have run away if he was placed with a Post family instead of left alone in the barn."

"And then where would he be?" asked Dee. "Things seemed to have worked out for the best."

He'd still be human, for one thing, thought Elliot. It had been a week since the disaster on the cliff, a week since she'd fought with Kai in the barn, and she hadn't seen him since. Olivia still hadn't woken up, either, and reports placed her devastated brother and equally devastated admirer, Captain Malakai Wentforth, at her bedside night and day.

Elliot had been too scared to visit Olivia and risk running into Kai, but she reasoned that if the girl was still in a coma, she wouldn't notice Elliot's absence. And while she waited, she couldn't stop thinking about her argument with Kai in the barn. She'd been foolish, she'd been hasty, and, most of all, she'd been too unguarded with her feelings.

"Dee?" she asked. "Would it be wrong to accept money for something you were planning on doing anyway?"

Dee narrowed her eyes. "You're asking the wrong person. I've never gotten money for anything in all of my life. I don't know much how it works. But isn't that exactly what the point of money is? It's much better than accepting money for something you don't want to do."

"I mean-if it's something that someone shouldn't have to pay you for. Something they'd think less of you for if they paid you for it."

Now the Post's eyes went wide. "What kind of thing are we talking about, Elliot North?"

Elliot shook her head. "Nothing like that." On a purely practical basis, if Kai was willing to give her money for silence, then she should take it. She could be calm and rational about that now, despite her response in the barn. The estate could certainly benefit from such an arrangement. But she didn't know if she could bring herself to broach the topic with him. She didn't know how she'd ever speak to him again after the things she'd said to him in the barn.

Time for a change in subject. "Things have been going well in the dairy. You know that old churner I haven't been able to get working for six months? Turns out there was just a screw loose."

"Really!" Dee said. "I thought you'd been over every piece of that machine half a dozen times."

"I know." Elliot shrugged. "Guess I was just distracted with my work on the wheat before. Thank goodness for winter boredom."

"I'm sure the dairymaids thank you. Things have got to be much easier with the mechanical churner running again."

"They are, but we're still shorthanded. We didn't have enough Posts on duty even before you came here."

"Give it ten years." Dee nodded her head in the direction of a nearby cot, where a Reduced woman dozed with a big-eyed newborn in her arms. "That one's a Post, you know."

Elliot examined the baby. "You can't tell already." Common opinion held that Post children started showing their colors around six months.

"Oh yes I can," Dee insisted. "I raised my own, didn't I? Jef was just like her at that age. Watch her looking around. She's already figuring out the world. She already wants to see what else is out there."

What else was out there? The infant, if a Post, was still bonded to the North estate. And if she remained here, one day she'd be back inside these four walls, confined, just like Dee. The alternative was to take the path Kai had chosen.

And all the dangers that came with it. Posts like Dee thought the Reduction was ending, that soon every new baby would be a Post. But what if Kai and his friends had started the nightmare all over again?

ELLIOT WAS JUST FINISHING her duties in the barn several days later when Benedict found her.

"h.e.l.lo," he called over the top of one of the dairy stalls. Elliot was inspecting the cows while Ro and two other Reduced girls cleaned out the rest of the stalls. "I've come to see if you've heard anything more about that poor Grove girl."

Elliot brushed hay off her tan skirt. "I haven't had a chance to." It wasn't a lie. With Dee moved into the birthing house, Elliot had her hands full with extra duties. But even if she'd been as free as Tatiana, nothing would induce her to return to the Boatwright house.

Benedict was dressed in the same Post-style plum jacket he'd worn when he arrived. Apparently the Norths were missing out on a major fashion trend. Elliot had spent the morning listening to her sister hounding the baron for a new riding habit made with Post fabrics. A few months ago, Tatiana would have sneered at the thought.

"Are you planning to visit her? I'd love to come with you."

"I wasn't, no." If she never saw Kai again, it would be too soon.

"Would you?" Benedict's tone was insistent. "I barely got a look at the Boatwright estate the day we arrived, but I've been all over the North estate with your sister."

Elliot was taken aback by his words. The Boatwright estate was not Benedict's, nor would it ever be. It belonged to Elliot's grandfather. "Is there a special reason you wish to see it?"

"I'm curious about their project, of course!" Benedict exclaimed. "It's all anyone will speak of in Channel City. I want to see what they're up to, but I haven't been introduced to anyone over there. I feel awkward going by myself."

She glanced up at him. He felt awkward? The heir presumptive of the entire North estate, the man who'd seen as much of the world as the Fleet Posts and far more than she, felt awkward going alone to say h.e.l.lo? Elliot sighed. "I'm a little short staffed this morning, I'm afraid."

"It's because of that pregnant foreman, isn't it? Tatiana mentioned she'd been taken off her duties-perhaps a bit earlier than she needed to be."

Elliot raised her eyebrows. "Tatiana knows that? I'm shocked."

Benedict smiled. "Your sister follows more than you think she does, Elliot. It makes it easier for her to justify not getting her hands dirty herself."

Less than two weeks here and already he knew the lay of the land pretty well. Elliot regarded Benedict carefully. She didn't know what had brought him back to the North estate, or why her father had chosen now of all times to reconcile with his nephew. Eight years ago, Benedict had been sent away from the only home he'd ever known, and yet he appeared not bitter or angry about it at all. It was a mystery.

The Reduced girls had by now lined up outside the stalls for Elliot to inspect their work. Benedict looked them over, too, and Elliot stiffened, remembering the old rumors. If Benedict did take over, would the North lands become like the estate where the Phoenixes had grown up?

"Very good," she said to the laborers, gesturing in signs they'd be sure to understand. "You're free to go." Two of them ran off, while Ro lingered, clearly wanting to spend more time with Elliot, but nervous about Benedict's presence.

"Pretty girl," said Benedict. "And that's a lovely scarf. It's nice that you let them have their own possessions. Did she do anything special to earn it?"

Elliot frowned. "Ro," she said. "I would like you to go visit with Dee in the birthing house today. Can you do that?"

Ro nodded and took off.

Benedict turned back to Elliot. "So you are free now."

"Not really." She cast about for a way to broach the topic. "Benedict, I am glad you and my father have reconciled. While you're here, I think it's important that you know the things that happen on other estates do not occur on North lands-"

His eyes lit up with amus.e.m.e.nt. "You don't put credence in that old story, do you, cousin?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Yes, she did. Everyone knew why Benedict had been sent away.

"Yes, you do," he replied. "And frankly, I'm surprised."

Elliot folded her arms. "That I could think it of you?"

"That you haven't figured out that it was all a lie," Benedict said, practically scoffing. "Your father manufactured a reason to send me away. I was a threat to him as I came of age, because I'm the rightful heir to the estate."

Elliot considered this for a minute. It made a lot of sense. Of course her father would feel threatened as the boy he'd fed and housed and clothed grew old enough to take over his birthright. After all, Elliot herself had been de facto running the estate since her early teens. Could not Benedict have run it as he'd been supposed to? She wondered what would have happened if he'd been allowed to take over. Would the North estate have been in better hands? Would it be now?

Seeing her reaction, he smiled. "Come now, Elliot. I'm not here to start a fight. I have made peace with your father. I've learned much more these past years traveling the islands-seeing the estates and the enclaves-than I ever could have trapped up here in the north. Uncle Zachariah's so-called punishment has made me a rich man on my own terms."

"How fortunate for you." And if that was the case, that he neither needed the estate nor wanted it, then why did he bother to return?

"I am fortunate, and your father knows it. The past is . . . an embarra.s.sment to him, and I have promised not to call him out for it."

Why? Elliot didn't know if she'd be so gracious, and unlike Kai, she doubted her father had the money to pay Benedict off. She wondered if Benedict was receiving something else-a promise to give up rights to the estate sometime soon?

"But I do not want you laboring under a false a.s.sumption. I have no interest in the Reduced women on this farm. I never did." He leaned forward. "In other words, you do not need to chase away that little redhead."

Benedict stepped back, satisfied. "And now that we've cleared the air, I'll ask again-would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Boatwright house so that I may meet the neighbors?"

Not my neighbors, Elliot noted. Was he here to take back the estate? Regardless, she shook her head. "I can't. I have too much work to do."

"What do you have to do?" Benedict asked. "I'll help. And when we finish in half the time, you'll take me to the Boatwright house."

Her eyes widened, but her cousin was completely serious.

"Do not let it be said I'm shirking my duties here."

Elliot examined his fine coat and his city-softened hands. He wanted to know what it took to manage the North estate? Fine. She'd show him, and he'd be far too tired to drag her back to the Fleet.

Twenty-seven.

BENEDICT TOOK ELLIOT BY surprise. He hauled feed bags and curried horses and helped her check on the supply of food and other goods at the Reduced barracks. He made the rounds with her as she visited each of the remaining Posts, and smiled and chatted with all of them, even those who were suspicious and openly hostile.

"It's funny," he said to her as they traveled from cottage to cottage. "There does not seem to be much love for your father among the CORs on the estate, but they are still willing to believe his story."

"We tend to call them Posts now, as they desire," Elliot said.

"I'm glad to hear it." Benedict's expression was jovial. "COR sounds so artificial in my mouth, but it's the terminology your father uses. Not much of a surprise."

Elliot was silent, as every minute a new theory bloomed in her mind. Did he hope to win the North Posts to his side in a potential battle over his inheritance? Did he hope to win her over, too? One thing was clear, her cousin was no fool. It had taken him no time at all to a.s.sess how things worked on the estate. Of course, Admiral Innovation had told her when he first arrived that it was well known throughout the islands that Elliot was the only person to get things done here. Perhaps Benedict had known it long before he arrived.

Perhaps he thought the workers' lack of loyalty to Baron North would be an easy way to reclaim what was his.

"When I was younger," he said, "I didn't realize why they preferred to be called Posts. Living in the enclave down in Channel City taught me the difference. A 'Child of the Reduction' is just that-an offshoot of the Reduced, a juvenile, and still inextricably linked to his ancestor's limitations. There is also the theory very popular on a few of the estates in the south that CORs are nothing more than the product of illicit Luddite liaisons with the Reduced. That they never overcame the Reduction on their own at all. You can imagine how the term might be offensive to the Posts."

She didn't have to imagine. She'd met Andromeda.

"But a Post-Reductionist . . ." Benedict raised his eyebrows in appreciation. "That's something else entirely. A Post has moved past his humble beginnings. A Post is looking at the future, and not the past." He regarded Elliot. "I a.s.sume these Cloud Fleet Posts are filled with the same sort of boundless optimism?"

"They are focused on the future, yes," Elliot replied safely, as they walked on.

"Little wonder," said Benedict. "There isn't much in the past that they'd find appealing. But even I, born a Luddite, prefer the potential of the future. Don't you, cousin?"

Elliot was so taken aback by his bluntness that she nodded before she could stop herself.

"I knew we'd see eye to eye. You think like me. You know, watching the enclaves grow these last ten years from tiny shantytowns filled with beggars and thieves to prosperous neighborhoods, seeing the success of Posts like your Fleet, it isn't hard to read the writing on the wall."

"Oh really?" Elliot asked. She ignored his use of "your Fleet." It was not hers. Certainly not.

"The Post-Reductionists are right." Benedict nodded with certainty. "The Reduction is coming to a close."

Elliot was rendered speechless. She'd never heard anyone talk such heresy. And certainly not a Luddite.

"For now," Benedict continued, "Posts who are dissatisfied with their estates have merely run away, but mark my words, revolution is coming. Perhaps not here, but on other estates. Estates where the Luddite lords' mistreatment veers into cruelty. Or maybe just when there are so many free Posts that the Luddites can no longer maintain control. Do you know where you want to be when that happens, Elliot?"

"Here," said Elliot immediately. "If there's an uprising, then the Reduced on the estate are in danger."

Benedict blinked several times, as if surprised by her response.

"The Reduced haven't died off yet," she added. And, even by the most generous estimates, only one in twenty children born to a Reduced was a Post. It would be many generations, if ever, before the Reduction could truly be over.

But Benedict still wore an odd expression, and sheepishly Elliot realized what he'd meant by his question. He'd been asking which side she'd choose, not who she'd choose to protect. She ducked her head in embarra.s.sment.

"Perhaps we should go to the Boatwright estate now," he said, smirking, and Elliot was too fl.u.s.tered to protest.