Above World - By Jenn Reese Page 0,6

they were: hidden in the City of Shifting Tides.

There was a silence in the council dome. Hoku pressed his ear harder against the dome’s surface, afraid that he’d miss Kapono’s answer. His heart pounded and the breathing shell at his neck pulsed rapidly to keep up. Half a meter away, Aluna’s shell pulsed just as fast, her eyes wide.

The silence seemed to last forever. Then Aluna’s father said, “No, no. Of course not. You all know how I feel about the Above World. It’s too dangerous, too unpredictable. My allegiance has always been, and will always be, to the Coral Kampii and our founding principles. I believe I have already proven my loyalty.”

“My mother,” Aluna whispered to Hoku. “He’s talking about my mother. He could have gone to the Above World when she got sick. I bet the Humans had medicines that could have saved her. But he didn’t. He let her die instead. To him, that’s loyalty.”

Hoku looked at her, saw her lips pressed together and her brown eyes fierce. He didn’t know what to say. He never did. Aluna’s loss made him feel guilty that he still had his own mother. Guilty, and grateful.

Elder Inoa said, “Yes, of course you have proven your loyalty. No one thinks otherwise. But we must stay hidden as long as possible, if not forever. It is who we are. We must trust the Elders before us and keep the Seahorse Alpha outpost secure. Exposing our people to the information inside will only cause more strife. Kampii must not fight Kampii. Not ever again.”

Aluna whispered, “The outpost! We have to —”

“Even so,” Elder Kapono said, and Aluna clamped her mouth shut so they could hear. “Heed my words: this is not the last death our people will suffer.”

“It is not,” Elder Peleke agreed. “But as you know better than anyone, in dark times, some Kampii must die to preserve the way of life for the rest.”

The Elders all spoke their agreement at once.

“We will encourage more pregnancies,” Elder Inoa said. She herself had borne eight children, and she never let anyone forget it. Fertility was a great badge of honor for the women in the City of Shifting Tides.

“Yes, more pregnancies,” Elder Peleke said. “We can offer incentives. Our reasons need not be apparent.”

“Then the matter is settled,” said Elder Maylea. “We will weather this storm as we always have. As Sarah Jennings would have wanted us to. By the moon!”

The other Elders repeated, “By the moon!”

“The next order of business is the taxation of whitefish harvests from the sand-side farmers —”

“Enough,” Aluna said. She let go of the dome and drifted from its surface. She ripped off her Extra Ear and held it out. “Here, take it. I don’t want it anymore.”

Hoku stared at the artifact pinched between her fingers.

This is not the last death. Some must die . . .

“Take it,” she repeated.

He did. In the dome below, he could hear the Elders arguing about harvest rights. He quickly removed his own Extra Ear and shoved them both into one of his pockets.

“What should we do?” he asked her. Aluna always knew what to do. She always had a plan. No matter what, he could count on her to tell him where to go.

This time, she laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound.

“What should we do? Pass the tides, like good little fish,” she said. “And hope that the next Kampii to die isn’t someone we love.”

ALUNA SAID GOOD NIGHT to Hoku and swam for her nest, her thoughts dark. She kept seeing the same images, over and over: Makina’s dead white eyes, the broken necklace in her palm, Hoku’s worried face pressed against the council dome. How could she live a normal life knowing it was only a matter of time before someone else died?

Then again, maybe she wouldn’t be living a normal life. Maybe her own necklace would be the next to fail.

She changed direction and headed for the training dome. A few weapon drills would calm her tumultuous mind. Most days, they were the only thing that could. If only she were allowed to be a hunter like her brothers! She loved fighting — the emotional rush, the way her mind and body worked together, the rare feeling of power and control, even if it was just over herself. And she was good at it, too. But girls were forbidden to do anything the Elders deemed dangerous while the Coral Kampii population was below its “minimum safe level.” And