huddles around, listening for Beckett’s answer. Finch itches to expose Beckett’s betrayal, but he must use this knowledge carefully.
‘We can’t always understand the ways of the Great I AM. We trust and believe,’ Beckett replies to those gathered. ‘Atti, you memorized the Just Sayings.
You’ve made your Walk of Enlightenment. You are now a Cheerleader.’ He faces Atti. ‘Do you promise to protect the Mountain and live by the Just Sayings of the Great I
AM?’
Atti nods. ‘Oh, I mean, yeah.’
Beckett extends his hand, palm up, and Cal rushes forwards, presenting Beckett with the ceremonial knife. Its shiny red shell and white cross seem magical in this dull desert. Finch
thinks he should wield the knife. Beckett flicks open the blade. Atti presents her wrist without being asked. Beckett closes Atti’s hand into a fist and holds it still. She chews her lower
lip and looks away. He uses the tip of the knife to trace a thin figure in the same place and shape as his birthmark. Beckett’s precision is almost surgical. He must leave a scar, but not cut
too deep. Atti’s face is pinched tight with pain.
When Beckett is finished, he places his wrist on top of hers so their infinity symbols are pressed together. ‘Whatever,’ Beckett says, and the audience repeats the
one-word Saying.
Finch remembers six years ago when he, Harper and Beckett stood together and took the oath. Beckett didn’t have to be marked. He was born with the Mountain’s symbol. From
that day on, Beckett was proclaimed Cheer Captain. He took the ceremonial knife for the first time and carved the mark on Finch. His touch was too light, only a scratch. Finch had to deepen the
mark later.
Beckett raises his arm over his head, exposing his wrist, covered in Atti’s blood. Every Cheerleader does the same.
‘Let us repeat the Saying of Dedication,’ Beckett says.
‘Whatever! Whatever! The bad, the good. Whatever! I put my faith in the Great I AM. The Great I AM alone.’
‘Please join me in congratulating Atti on becoming a Cheerleader,’ Beckett says. Finch forces himself to applaud louder and longer than anyone else.
They linger at the Crown and enjoy this break from the normal routine of Forreal life. Only the patrols are allowed this high up the Mountain at night. The moon is full and seems to
direct its light on the Man-Made Mountains.
Finch notices it first – a bright light glowing at the heart of the Man-Made Mountains.
Atti elbows him. ‘What is that?’
‘Is it . . .’ someone starts. Finch knows the end of the sentence. Everyone must be thinking the same thing: Terrorists.
‘Remain calm,’ Beckett says, stepping up to block their view. Everyone re-adjusts his or her position to see the tiny points of light that are now dotting the Man-Made
Mountains.
‘There are more than last time,’ Finch tells Beckett.
‘Last time?’ Tom says. He pulls at his misshapen earlobes.
‘You’ve seen the lights before?’ Cal asks.
And then everyone is talking at once. Finch steps towards Beckett and watches the line of Cheerleaders move with him. The small rockstars tuck themselves behind the Cheerleaders.
Finch leads them closer and closer to Beckett until he is surrounded.
‘Terrorists,’ Finch whispers to no one and everyone. He interjects the word again and again. Until the crowd is buzzing with it.
Beckett raises his hand, exposing his birthmark. ‘We do not know who or what it is.’
‘Could it be Mumenda coming at last?’ May asks, gathering the smallest rockstar in her arms. Her hunched back curves lower under the weight.
‘Don’t be crupid,’ Finch mutters. ‘Mumenda will journey to the Mountain and then we will be free. Mumenda will join us on the Mountain, not appear as flashing
lights in the distance.’
‘Let’s return to Forreal and ask the Great I AM for guidance.’ Beckett walks away from the lights. Harper is right behind him but no one else follows.
‘Do you think it’s
‘We can’t always understand the ways of the Great I AM. We trust and believe,’ Beckett replies to those gathered. ‘Atti, you memorized the Just Sayings.
You’ve made your Walk of Enlightenment. You are now a Cheerleader.’ He faces Atti. ‘Do you promise to protect the Mountain and live by the Just Sayings of the Great I
AM?’
Atti nods. ‘Oh, I mean, yeah.’
Beckett extends his hand, palm up, and Cal rushes forwards, presenting Beckett with the ceremonial knife. Its shiny red shell and white cross seem magical in this dull desert. Finch
thinks he should wield the knife. Beckett flicks open the blade. Atti presents her wrist without being asked. Beckett closes Atti’s hand into a fist and holds it still. She chews her lower
lip and looks away. He uses the tip of the knife to trace a thin figure in the same place and shape as his birthmark. Beckett’s precision is almost surgical. He must leave a scar, but not cut
too deep. Atti’s face is pinched tight with pain.
When Beckett is finished, he places his wrist on top of hers so their infinity symbols are pressed together. ‘Whatever,’ Beckett says, and the audience repeats the
one-word Saying.
Finch remembers six years ago when he, Harper and Beckett stood together and took the oath. Beckett didn’t have to be marked. He was born with the Mountain’s symbol. From
that day on, Beckett was proclaimed Cheer Captain. He took the ceremonial knife for the first time and carved the mark on Finch. His touch was too light, only a scratch. Finch had to deepen the
mark later.
Beckett raises his arm over his head, exposing his wrist, covered in Atti’s blood. Every Cheerleader does the same.
‘Let us repeat the Saying of Dedication,’ Beckett says.
‘Whatever! Whatever! The bad, the good. Whatever! I put my faith in the Great I AM. The Great I AM alone.’
‘Please join me in congratulating Atti on becoming a Cheerleader,’ Beckett says. Finch forces himself to applaud louder and longer than anyone else.
They linger at the Crown and enjoy this break from the normal routine of Forreal life. Only the patrols are allowed this high up the Mountain at night. The moon is full and seems to
direct its light on the Man-Made Mountains.
Finch notices it first – a bright light glowing at the heart of the Man-Made Mountains.
Atti elbows him. ‘What is that?’
‘Is it . . .’ someone starts. Finch knows the end of the sentence. Everyone must be thinking the same thing: Terrorists.
‘Remain calm,’ Beckett says, stepping up to block their view. Everyone re-adjusts his or her position to see the tiny points of light that are now dotting the Man-Made
Mountains.
‘There are more than last time,’ Finch tells Beckett.
‘Last time?’ Tom says. He pulls at his misshapen earlobes.
‘You’ve seen the lights before?’ Cal asks.
And then everyone is talking at once. Finch steps towards Beckett and watches the line of Cheerleaders move with him. The small rockstars tuck themselves behind the Cheerleaders.
Finch leads them closer and closer to Beckett until he is surrounded.
‘Terrorists,’ Finch whispers to no one and everyone. He interjects the word again and again. Until the crowd is buzzing with it.
Beckett raises his hand, exposing his birthmark. ‘We do not know who or what it is.’
‘Could it be Mumenda coming at last?’ May asks, gathering the smallest rockstar in her arms. Her hunched back curves lower under the weight.
‘Don’t be crupid,’ Finch mutters. ‘Mumenda will journey to the Mountain and then we will be free. Mumenda will join us on the Mountain, not appear as flashing
lights in the distance.’
‘Let’s return to Forreal and ask the Great I AM for guidance.’ Beckett walks away from the lights. Harper is right behind him but no one else follows.
‘Do you think it’s
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