Scythe (Arc of a Scythe #1) - Neal Shusterman Page 0,41

after sticking your hands in water that a hundred other hands have been in?”

Faraday sighed. “It brings solace. It binds us as a community. Do not belittle our traditions because one day they may be yours.”

“Or not,” goaded Rowan.

Citra shifted uncomfortably and grumbled. “It just seems like a waste of time.”

Faraday must have known her real gripe was with not knowing when they would be presented to the conclave and taken away for their test. Citra was not a girl who could endure being in the dark for long. Perhaps that’s why Faraday made sure that she was. He was constantly poking at their weaknesses.

Next, a number of scythes were singled out for showing bias in their gleanings. This held some interest for Citra, and gave her some insight as to how it all worked behind the scenes.

One scythe had gleaned too few wealthy people. She was reprimanded and assigned to only glean the rich between now and the next conclave.

Another scythe was found to have racial ratio issues. High on the Spanic, low on the Afric.

“It’s due to the demographic where I live,” he pleaded. “People have a higher percentage of Spanic in their personal ratios.”

High Blade Xenocrates was not swayed. “Then cast a wider net,” he said. “Glean elsewhere.”

He was charged with bringing his ratios back into line or face being disciplined—which consisted of having future gleanings preapproved by the selection committee. Having one’s freedom to glean taken away was a humiliation that no scythe wanted.

Sixteen scythes were taken to task. Ten were warned, six were disciplined. The oddest situation was a scythe who was far too pretty for his own good. He got called out for gleaning too many unattractive people.

“What an idea,” one of the other scythes shouted out. “Imagine what a world it would be if we gleaned only ugly people!”

That brought a round of laughter from the rest of the room.

The scythe tried to defend himself, claiming the old adage, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” but the High Blade wasn’t buying it. This was apparently his third such offense, so he was given permanent probation. He could live as a scythe but could not glean, “Until the next reptilian year,” the High Blade proclaimed.

“That’s crazy,” Citra commented just loud enough for Rowan and Faraday to hear. “No one knows what animals future years will be named after. I mean, the last reptilian year was the Year of the Gecko and that was before I was born.”

“Precisely!” said Faraday with a little bit of guilty glee. “Which means his punishment could end next year or never. Now he’ll spend his time lobbying the office of the Calendaria to name a year after the skink, or Gila monster, or some other reptile that has not yet been used.”

Before they moved on from the disciplinary portion of the morning, there was one more scythe to be called out. It wasn’t a matter of bias, however.

“I have before me an anonymous note,” the High Blade said, “which accuses Honorable Scythe Goddard of malfeasance.”

A rumble throughout the room. Citra saw Scythe Goddard whisper to his inner circle of companions, then stood. “Of what sort of malfeasance am I being accused?’

“Unnecessary cruelty in your gleaning.”

“And yet this accusation comes anonymously!” said Goddard. “I cannot believe that a fellow scythe would show such cowardice. I demand that the accuser reveal his or herself.”

More rumbles around the room. No one stood up, no one took responsibility.

“Well then,” said Goddard, “I refuse to answer to an invisible accuser.”

Citra expected High Blade Xenocrates to press the issue. After all, an accusation from a fellow scythe should be taken seriously—but the High Blade put the paper down and said, “Well, if there’s nothing more, we’ll take our midmorning break.”

And the scythes, Earth’s grand bringers of death, began to file out into the rotunda for donuts and coffee.

Once they were in the rotunda, Faraday leaned close to Citra and Rowan and said, “There was no anonymous accuser. I’m sure that Scythe Goddard accused himself.”

“Why would he do that?” asked Citra.

“To take the steam out of his enemies. It’s the oldest trick in the book. Now anyone who accuses him will be assumed to be the cowardly anonymous accuser. No one will go after him now.”

• • •

Rowan found himself less interested in the stagecraft and parrying within the assembly room as he was in the things that went on outside of it. He was already getting a feeling for the Scythedom and how