Above World Read Online Free PDF

If he cared that his youngest daughter was among the initiates this year, he didn’t show it. His gaze passed over her as if she were a hermit crab, beneath his notice.
    Her father spoke about the city’s history. She’d heard the story a million times, but she had to admit, her father told it well.
    Long ago, they had all lived in the Above World with the other Humans until the first Elder, Ali’ikai who-was-born Sarah Jennings, led them away from the disease and the famine and the war and made them a home under the waves. Only Sarah Jennings maintained contact with the Humans, the other Kampii colonies, and other splinter people. She became the Coral Kampii’s first Voice. But conditions in the Above World worsened. Sarah Jennings fell ill during one of her missions, and after she died, the Kampii vowed to limit their contact with the Above World forever.
    As the Elders lectured about honor and duty, Aluna’s thoughts drifted back to the kelp forest, back to Makina. She could almost feel the girl’s dead hand clutching her wrist, could almost see Makina’s fog-filled eyes, as if she were swimming right in front of her. How long would that memory haunt her?
    When Elder Inoa began handing out the ceremonial bowls, Aluna almost dropped hers. Elder Peleke was talking about responsibility at that very moment. Her father scowled. Aluna tightened her grip on the bowl and tried to focus.
    Elder Peleke called their names. Aluna rose first and slowly swam forward. Elder Inoa used a pair of tongs to pluck an Ocean Seed from the ritual container that only the Elders could open. The seed glowed red-hot as she dropped it into Aluna’s bowl, but it sizzled and cooled quickly in open water. The seed was small, no bigger than a pearl, and a dingy brownish gray.
    “The color of the stormy sea,” the Elder said. “A symbol of change.”

C HANGE
, thought Aluna. Not a word that got a lot of use in the City of Shifting Tides. The Elders would rather die than do anything that would alter the Kampii way of life. Or, at least they were willing to let
other
people die.
    Elder Inoa began to speak about tradition, and Aluna felt movement in her chest, a quiet tension building slowly, like a wave.
    “Events in the Above World come and go,” the Elder intoned. “The Humans and the other splinters fight their wars and destroy their resources. We of the sea, of the coral, of water . . . we remain strong and unwavering. We persevere. We thrive.”
    Aluna snorted. She hadn’t meant to, but it just came out. The eleven Elders and the other supplicants all turned to stare.
    She bit her lip and lowered her gaze, trying to fight the anger growing inside her. How could they be “thriving” if innocent girls like Makina had to die? And if more and more Kampii would die just as she had? Hiding from the rest of the world while your failing tech slowly killed you was in no way the same as “thriving.”
    Elder Inoa began again. “We Kampii have always kept ourselves apart. We have not succumbed to the weakness that ravages the Above World. We have maintained our culture and grown our civilization even as the rest of the world suffers darkness and misery.”
    Aluna rolled her eyes and muttered to herself. The girl next to her shifted uncomfortably.
    “Silence!” Elder Peleke bellowed. Then, with more dignity, he turned to Elder Inoa and said, “Please continue, Elder.”
    Elder Inoa tucked a tendril of pale hair into her coral headpiece and continued, but not without a long, dark look in Aluna’s direction.
    “While the Above World destroys itself, our colony grows. . . .”
    In the distance, a whale sang. It was a sad, melancholy sound that cut through the water like a harpoon.
All whales are pessimists,
Hoku had told her once.
    He was probably out there now, wondering what she’d done to anger the Elders. She’d tell him later, along with some embellishment. Hoku loved a good story.
    But what if . . . what if Hoku were next? What if it