Athel by Giorgi E. E

Athel by Giorgi E. E

Author:Giorgi, E. E. [Giorgi, E. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Young Adult
ISBN: 9780996045179
Amazon: 0996045171
Goodreads: 26146013
Publisher: Quemazon Publishing
Published: 2015-10-01T07:00:00+00:00


Chapter Eleven

Akaela

We thread fishing nets until late in the day, our work lulled by the distant thuds of falling axes. By late evening the men have piled up all the timber needed for the new structures. The first planks have been cut, planed and stained, and now they stand against improvised racks to dry. When darkness falls, we all shuffle back to the Tower, strained and exhausted, but happy that we’ve made so much progress in just one day.

To help improve the general mood, the older women have set up tables in the clearing outside the Tower. They welcome our return with pots of steamed rice, vegetables, and sliced watermelon. On cue, the fiddlers raise their bows and begin to play traditional Mayake songs as we stand in line to get our food. Despite being exhausted and demoralized by the devastating start of the day, the music and the food slowly reenergize us.

Somebody goes so far as to joke that we needed new structures anyway, and that our old ones were doomed to crumble in the water any day. Tahari stands up and raises a glass, praising everyone for how promptly we reacted to the enemy and didn’t waste any time weeping or feeling sorry. Instead, we rolled up our sleeves and got to work, accomplishing so much in barely a day.

People at the tables cheer and raise their glasses. Hennessy throws in some predictable accolade to his son and his powerful weapon for taking down the droid.

And then, out of the blue, an elderly woman stands up, shaking her head, and says, “Everyone’s talking about great weapons and attacks on the Gaijins. In reality what today has taught us is how vulnerable we are. Next time the droids will shoot directly at the Tower. We’ll be gone to ashes without even realizing it.”

She briskly snaps her fingers and flops back on the bench. Without another word, people resume eating, their heavy silence broken only by the clinking of silverware.

Athel shows up at our table in the middle of dinner. I scowl, but before I can demand to know where he’s been, he motions for Wes, Lukas and me to scooch closer, and says, “Guys. Meet me at the barn at midnight. It’s imperative.”

My eyes widen. “Imperative? Is that what you just said? Do you even know what it means?”

He regards me as though I’m missing the utter importance of what he’s saying. “Yes. Midnight.”

Athel has been gone most of the day. While everyone else has been threading, hauling, lumbering, axing, nailing, and shoveling, my brother has the guts to show his face now, fresh and rested, without a word about what he’s been up to all these hours. I’d slap him if my fingers weren’t blistered and my arms sore.

“Right,” I snap. “Obviously, somebody will still be wide awake and full of energy tonight at midnight. I’ve got news for you, Athel. The three of us here”—I sweep my hand across the table to include Lukas and Wes, sitting next to me—“have been working nonstop since six a.



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