Stealing Perfection

Chapter 11

The ashes beneath my toes tickle. Minutes ago, I took of my shoes to feel the real ground. This is the real stuff. No genetically advanced fake ground like the city. The air is humid, but cool. It is not windy, and there is no rain or sun. The moon peeks out from behind a few clouds, but that is the only sign of life in the barren desert. 

I reach down and take a handful of dirt and ashes. Some falls through the cracks between my fingers, but the rest feels like cool powder resting in my palm. I let the rest fall out of my hand, and brush off the particles with my other hand. 

When I get a good look at Lance, I see his face is lit and his eyes are open in wonder. He is intrigued by everything in this space that seems to go on for endless miles, even though there is not much. He looks calm, and serene. 

"We're going to get some samples of the land," Kat announces. "Don't stray too far from the tunnel entrance. I don't care if you go out a little, but be ready in an hour or so to go back." I nod, and they wander off. I wait until they are out of earshot to turn to Lance.

"What should we do?" I ask. 

"Here, if you lay on the ground, I'll show you some constellations." I follow his directions, and lay on my back. He is beside me seconds later.

He points to a cluster of stars that look like a spoon. "That's the big dipper. See the handle?" I nod, and smile. I turn my head to face him.

'How many of these do you know of?"

"By name? A lot. I can name more stars than constellations, though." 

"Tell me the names of constellations." I say, and turn back to the glittering sky. 

"Those 'W' shaped stars? That's called Cassiopeia. I'm not sure what all of the star names are, but that one-" he points to the one on the end, "-is named Caph. And below Cassiopeia is Andromeda. Those stars make up the constellation, but the galaxy is right there." His finger points to a brighter dot in the sky. 

"I like the name Cassiopeia." 

"It was named after a woman in ancient Greek mythology." 

"How do you know so much about this stuff?" I ask, and turn back to him. 

"I do have a couple years on you, you know." 

"Not even three." I remind him. "But who taught you all of this?" 

"There are records kept on practically everything, before the time of the city." He tells me, but there is a slight pause in each of his words, like he is choosing them carefully. 

"You can tell me if you want." I say, and he nods.

"Record-keeping is the only way for people and things to be remembered, so every generation is crazy about controlling it. Obviously, there are records kept on each and every citizen in the city. They track patterns in their data, and look at anyone that might be out of place. Sometimes, they'll eliminate the outcast." 

"Wait, you're saying this happens in the city?" I ask, my pitch rising.

"Oh yeah. They wipe the memories of the people to make sure that no one finds out about it either." 

I can feel a pinching in my stomach. 

"What if they find out about me?" My voice comes out small and squeaky. Lance's eyes lock with mine, and a shiver tingles up my spine. His eyes look dark and bronze in the moonlight.

"That's impossible." He finally says. 

"But what if it isn't?" I continue. "What if they're tracking me, what if they plan to eliminate me?"