Taken by Erin Bowman Page A

some item of interest that must lie square between my eyes on the far side of the room. “We’ve . . . how do I put this?”
    I feel like throwing my cup into the wall and watching it shatter. “Just say it. I can handle it. Just tell me already.”
    “There is no easy way to explain.” He stumbles, pauses, stares at the top of his desk. “God, you’d think it would get easier, but each time is as hard as the first.”
    He looks at me now, not through me. His face appears as broken as my mother’s did the day she closed her eyes for the final time. Frank’s eyes have gone dark, too, just like hers.
    “You saw some posters on your way in. Wanted posters.”
    It’s a statement, but he waits for me to nod in confirmation.
    “Harvey Maldoon is a scientist, and one of the best that this country has seen since the Second Civil War. Many years ago, Harvey started something—an experiment, if you will. He wanted to study human nature and the building of societies and I’m not certain what else. We only know so much. I’m sure once upon a time he had good intentions, but his work was unethical. When we discovered what he was doing, we tried to arrest him. He ran. But the experiment, the things he started, it’s as if they are on autopilot. Pieces of it continue to function even though it has been a long time since he set foot in Taem.”
    A knot has formed in my throat, so coarse and stubborn I can barely swallow. “What are you saying?”
    “I’m saying that Claysoot . . .”
    I think I know. But it can’t be true.
    “It’s not what you think it is.”
    No.
    “Everything you know—your world, your people . . .”
    This can’t be happening.
    “It’s Harvey’s experiment. Claysoot was, and is, an experiment.”
    No. No. “No.” The last one escapes me. “So it’s all . . . Someone made it like that? Someone built the Wall? And put us in there?” My hands are shaking.
    Frank grimaces, his eyes downturned. He takes a piece of paper from his desk and writes six letters on it. LAICOS. “Claysoot is nothing but an experiment, Gray. Harvey called it the Laicos Project in the little documentation we’ve managed to confiscate. We don’t know much else. I’m so sorry.”
    My hands are in fists, my knuckles whitening. “I’ll kill him,” I say, without realizing the thought had even entered my mind.
    If Frank is surprised by my reaction, he doesn’t show it. “I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same, son. Taem has suffered much at Harvey’s hands. When we tried to arrest him, he killed our men rather than come quietly. After he ran, he stole resources from his own people and slit throats for good measure. Things are bad enough here, far from perfect. We don’t need Harvey making them worse. Perhaps it will help you to understand a bit of our history, here, and how Harvey fits into it.”
    He takes another sip of water and then continues. “Before the earthquakes and the flooding and the Second Civil War, this country was a large, sprawling, united thing. We are now two rifts, two pieces: AmEast and AmWest. Here in AmEast, and especially in Taem, I’ve tried to restore order, and I’ve done a decent job. It’s taken me most of my life to bring Taem to its current state. This country lost so many lives in the war that the precious resource we once fought over, freshwater, is now plentiful enough if carefully rationed. I give my people water. I give them safety by way of the Franconian Order.” He places a palm against the red triangle on his uniform.
    “We keep the traitors of AmWest at bay, Gray. They started the war years ago. They attacked us first; and even with the worst of the fighting behind us, they still attack us today. And Harvey, as if the injustices he’s done are not great enough, helps them. He sells them trade secrets and weapons and information in exchange for safety. He thinks I will forget his crimes if he can scare me enough. He uses fear as a weapon, but I will not bend.