Aquifer Read Online Free PDF Page A

He smirks.
    Amongus never smirk
.
    I whip around. “What do you know about last night?”
    The door slams, and from behind me the teacher speaks gently. “Your presence, though honoring, cannot be accompanied by these outbursts.”
    “It won’t.”
    The room clock clicks twelve and all rise. “When we return from Holiday, we will be visiting the Hall of the Old. Prepare to be disturbed. Good day.” The teacher strides out into the hall. My peers rise and part and exit, each one cupping their hands as they walk by. It’s the universal gesture given to my father, who fills each hand with water, with life. Now as a Sixteen, it is given to me.
    I stand alone in the empty room. It’s time to go home. I’m afraid of the man I will see.

CHAPTER
4
    F ather Massa, I’m home! What do you need me to do?” I bang through the screen door, and slow. Father’s hammock sways gently in the main room. There is no breeze.
    I feel cold, though the day is warm.
    Of course. Today he will recite the path of descent in the sitting area, repeating it backward and forward. He says the route must be known both ways, for there is always the return journey to the surface.
    I pull the sheet that shields Father’s sitting chair from the rest of the shanty.
    He slowly lifts his head.
    “Father Massa, I was worried.” I glance around. “Is everything well? Have you checked the boat —”
    He raises his finger to his lips and stands. His eyes are fiery and clear, and I warm in that terrible, wonderful gaze.
    “Come, son.” He tousles my hair and takes hold of both shoulders. “Let me look at you. There is so much of your motherin your face. The child of hope, that’s what she called you, and you turned out well.”
    “Uh, thank you, Father Massa.” Words falter. He is changed. “What happened to you? Where’s Wal —” Father slaps his hand over my mouth.
    “What happened to me? Well, the brain is not meant to be tinkered with. As we’ve known for far too long, debriefings can steal memories, but” — he smiles broadly — “occasionally after too much tinkering, those memories find their way home.” He sighs. “There’s so much I need to tell you, but not now.” I feel the strength in his arms, the certainty in his voice. It is Father, but not one I’ve known. He slowly releases me.
    I rub my mouth. “You’re so —”
    “Late. Massa is late to depart.”
    I swing around. The sheet rips from its clasp and an Amongus approaches, while two more block the doorway.
    “Ignore them, Luca. I’m not late,” Father says, his voice soft and tender. “I can’t stop looking at you. How long have I been gone?”
    “Get up, Massa,” the Amongus hisses.
    “My mind, how long has it been absent?”
    “Years,” I whisper, and peek toward the door. And in the corner of my eye, there is a tickle I can’t explain.
    “Up, Man!”
    The Watchers push my small frame aside, and I land with a thud. They stride toward Father.
    He stands and points at each of them in turn. “Leave my home. You will not touch my son again.”
    They stare at each other, and Father steps forward. “Out. Get out.” He bends and gently lifts me to my feet. “I wish to speak with Luca.”
    Father shoves the lead Amongus, who raises his fist.
    “Hold it, Mape.” His companion leaps from the door and grabs Mape’s arm. “Only he knows. He can’t be hurt. Not today.”
    Mape slowly lowers his hand. “Not today.” He turns, and along with the others steps out of the shanty.
    Father kneels. I kneel as well. “Luca, I have a job to do, and then we will talk. In the meantime, you have taken on quite a task. Your bravery yesterday means you must now care for the package you rescued. You will need to find a place for it.”
    “Not here?”
    Father slowly shakes his head. “Here is safe and good, but only for you, son.”
    Inside, I warm. He said Walery couldn’t stay, but I warm. Because I can. I matter. I’m his son.
    Father looks at me, deep and