Where Nothing Ill Can Dwell

Chapter 8 - Miranda

The whole way back to the compound, Mom thwarted all my attempts to speak to Ferdinand. I wanted to bombard him with the questions swirling through my mind. Where did he come from? Were there more humans like him? What could he tell me about this place called NAPLES? Was he really here to spy on us? And why would my mother want revenge against his people?

Curiosity bubbled up within me like an overflowing spring, adding an anxious bounce to my step. I made one more effort to dart toward him. "I can show him to the guest quarters."

Mom flung out her arm in a barricade to keep me from him. "No, I'll deal with him. Go to your room."

And with that command, all the eagerness bled from my body. I toyed with the idea of defiance, but my mother's unyielding glare snuffed it out within seconds. I'd seen how she dealt with Caliban, and as much I wanted to know more about Ferdinand, I had no desire to suffer her wrath.

I was the obedient daughter, after all.

Once inside, I called for ARIEL, but the cold, metallic echo of my footsteps was the only sign of life. I went directly to my room, hoping maybe she was there and could answer some of my questions. I could've sworn I'd seen her hovering near the crash site, until the faint hum of her processors had vanished once Mom took control of Ferdinand's blaster.

There was no sign of ARIEL in my room either. I glanced out my window, but the growing darkness obscured any glimpse of Ferdinand.

I plopped down on my bed with Pooka. The second I closed my eyes, I pictured our captive's face. It was warm and handsome and full of wonder. The rich brown of his skin contrasted with the bright green glint of his dark eyes. Their shape fascinated me—they were oblong and strangely tilted up at the ends. So different from the boring, brown roundness of my own. My mother had shown me pictures of other humans, but seeing another human face-to-face opened whole other realms to my imagination. What other skin colors existed? Eye color? Hair? Could other humans be big or small, thin or stout, light or dark? The possible combinations alone astounded me.

But no matter how many I pictured in my mind, I kept returning to him. He was perfection embodied.

Or at least, as far as my realm of knowledge extended. He was certainly better looking than my mother. And nowhere near as menacing as Caliban.

I had no idea how much time passed as I lay in this giddy, dream-like state, but when I heard footsteps, I bounded off my bed and ran toward command central.

My mother was easing into her chair as I entered. "Where is he?"

"In the shed."

I wrinkled my nose. The shed was nothing more than an empty freight container we used for storage. "Are you sure that's a proper shelter for him?"

"It's better than Caliban's cave," she replied, referring to the structure made of stones he'd built inside the walls of the compound.

"True, but will he be safe?" I shuddered at the thought of what Caliban might do to our unarmed and defenseless visitor.

"It's within the walls of our compound." Mom turned on her monitors and stared at the images on the screen. "Why all these questions?"

"I just never dreamed I'd meet another human, much less a boy close to my own age, and—"

My mother cut me off with a sharp command. "Do not speak to him."

"Why?"

"Because he's from NAPLES, and now that I've had a chance to verify his credentials, he is who he says he is."