Siberia Read Online Free PDF

in a pinch of seed powder from each tube, wait until they began to grow, then put the dishes carefully into the incubator. The next time you looked, six tiny kits would be there. They were called
Lindquists,
another strange word I must remember. They would live, snuggled up together, and they would die, and curl up in their dishes again, and turn into cocoons (I knew furry animals didn’t do that, caterpillars turning into butterflies make cocoons: but this was magic). Then you had to crumble the cocoons into powder, and put the powder into a new seed tube, with the right colored cap.
    When they were kits they all looked the same. When they grew they became different kinds of wild animals. Nivvy had been a full-grown small carnivore. You had to grow them to full size sometimes to make really sure the seeds were in good condition. But we didn’t dare, so we had to hope for the best.
    “Once there were Lindquists for all eight orders,” said Mama. “The two missing ones are
Cetacea
and
Pinnipedia
. But the marine mammals were lost.”
    I nodded, not worried that I didn’t understand. I knew I couldn’t understand magic yet. But I could learn. “How do you mean, lost?”
    “They were taken.” Mama’s mouth went tight and hard, and her voice turned grim. “And I think I know who took them.”
    “It wasn’t . . . it
wasn’t
my dadda?” I quavered, frightened at her tone.
    I had strange ideas about why Dadda had gone, now that I knew that other mothers were here because their husbands had been criminals.
    “Oh no!” said Mama. “It wasn’t your dadda! Don’t think that, Rosita! . . . When you’re older, I will tell you the whole story. I’ll explain a lot of things that I can’t explain now.” She fell silent then, looking at me seriously, and took my hands, her eyes very dark and sad. “Listen, my baby. One day you may find yourself alone, with no one to help you to decide what to do. Then you must look deep inside yourself. Try to find the spirit of life, that lives everywhere and lives in your heart . . . and try to do what it tells you. That’s your only hope, Rosita. Your only hope.”
    I thought she was talking about the magic lessons. Little children understand more than people think. I knew she had trusted me with her secrets, although I was just a baby; and she hoped she was doing right. . . . I wanted to say I would never, never betray her. But her solemn words reminded me of that day when the guards had come, a day that I couldn’t remember, and my mind was filled with a scary, confusing blur.
    I knew we couldn’t go back to the city. You had to have a special voucher to ride the tractor to the station platform. Even if we could have got that far, and even if we’d had a cartload of scrip, we wouldn’t be let on the train. We would not be allowed to have tickets. We were the people who were shut out, now. And what would be the use, if we managed to find our way back to the home that I didn’t remember? Who would be there for us?
    “Will we find my dadda again?”
    “I don’t know,” said Mama, softly.
    “Is he in another Settlement?”
    “No,” she whispered. “I don’t think so. I don’t know where he is. Go and put the kettle on, sweetheart.” She started to put everything away, not looking at me. I saw that her eyes had filled with tears. I saw in them a sorrow that I could never reach, never make better, and my heart burned. I vowed to myself
one day
I would find my father, and I would bring him back to Mama, and she would be happy.
    I was just a child. I was proud when I could remember the funny long words, and I loved to play with the doll’s house tubes and dishes, but I didn’t understand what Mama was teaching me at all. I didn’t tell her, but I thought the “incubator” really was a magic nutshell, like the one in the fairy tale, that the lost princess opens when she has nothing to wear for the ball, and there is a beautiful dress inside, folded up tiny and small.