The Green Ones

Episode 3, Part 4

Centavo leads me into the night air. All signs of the sun have completely disappeared below the horizon. Less than a block from the Shadows, we stroll side by side as if we’d wandered here aimlessly. Or perhaps Centavo is a grandfather casually reminding his granddaughter of the fate of chadzitzin.

A jumble of concerns, my mind is anything but casual or aimless. I start with the most accessible concern. “Have you checked on Neca?”

“Yes.” Centavo glances at me, his hands clasped behind his back. “He is weak, but recovering quickly. Huatiani only intended to shame him.”

“Was that his punishment?” I shiver as I remember Huatiani’s weathered face and distant eyes hovering over me. “I mean, the general said Neca had paid in full.”

Centavo nods. “Huatiani was one of the last from an earlier time. The world he believed in betrayed him many years ago. Unfortunately he could not adapt.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Neca tried to protect you. Huatiani’s punishment was to prove him a failure.” At the end of the block we turn right, heading west toward the Palace Tower. “The system is designed to break you, Calli.”

I twinge at the old man’s ability to shift instantly from formal to casual. “Why would they want to do that? How would a bunch of cowering weaklings help defeat our enemies?”

“The regime does not stop there. They put you back together, but more calloused and angry. Determined. A little less concerned about things such as beauty and truth.”

“Is that why you started drawing? Or why you turned to plants?”

“Why did you turn to dyes?” He flips it on me.

“To provide a living for me and Olin.”

“Of course.”

“You know what? Forget it. Why don’t we just walk in silence?”

Centavo nods, hands still clasped behind his back. His stride is aggressive without being heavy. Even relaxed, he projects power. Power and mystery.

Oppressed by the sticky night air, sweat beads across every surface of my skin. I breathe deeply and try to swallow a growing knot of anger. In effort to distract myself, I study the dozens of lit windows on either side of the walkway. Occasionally a face passes behind one, focused on a simple task like cooking or cleaning. The fact they have time for such things angers me further.

Since Centavo’s appearance on the roof, I’ve made an effort not to antagonize him. But I can’t take it anymore. His arrogance, his selective information, his mocking of my absent braid followed by cryptic comments intended to spark my hopes—all of it has slowly been choking me with rage.

“What do you want with me?” I shout. “What are you doing to my brother? Why are you helping us?” Lowering my voice to a growl, I continue through clenched teeth, “And so help me gods if you say anything about my parents’ dying wish.”

“Nearly a minute.”

“What?” I snap.

“The length of our walk in silence.”

“Fine,” I pinch the bridge of my nose, “I get it. You’ve screwed up in life. You made the wrong people angry. Maybe one of Huatiani’s creative punishments put you here in Worker City. Personally, I don’t care. You either knew my parents or studied enough to make it convincing. I might be a braidless chadzitzin, but I’m not an idiot.”

I glance around. No one is nearby. “Don’t pretend your interest in Olin and me amounts to nothing more than some sort of redemption story. I’ve done enough deals in the market to recognize when somebody’s holding back and when their looking for more in return. So let’s get on with it. We both know you’re holding the most valuable card.”

“And that is?”

“Olin’s registration. Nothing else matters. You get Olin into Masa Academy, and whatever it is you want from me, I’ll do it.”

“For someone so experienced, you’re not very good at this.”

I clench my fists and suppress a scream. “You impossible old—”

“The deal’s not fair. I reject it.”

“What? How can you, why are we—”

“You have underestimated the value of what you have to offer, or perhaps I have not made myself clear.”

“Clarity,” I slap my forehead. “Now there’s a concept. Why don’t you start with that?”

Centavo chuckles.

I stop one impulse short of punching his smarmy little face. Then again, I’d probably find myself in air prison before I could land the first jab.

He lifts his gaze toward the top of the Palace Tower, several blocks away. “I am offering to help you register for the academy. As a matter of fact, I am promising it, for you and your brother both.”