The Black Sentry Read Free Page A

invisible birds, the creaking of cart wheels. He admired the perfectly spaced trees, each one equidistant from the other, precisely the same size and shape, framed by the twelve-foot-high fence that surrounded and protected the village. Everything was exactly as it had always been, as it should be, in the Sentinel’s perfectly ordered paradise. So he had been taught, even before he was old enough to understand.
    As the Festival Day progressed, m any familiar faces passed his father’s booth—friends and families he had known his entire life. They greeted Citizen Bodie, the Systems Administrator, and his passel of six children, all of whom appeared to be systematically tormenting one another. Since Bodie won his Winnowing years before, he had achieved enough Merit to be permitted this almost unprecedented number of children. Of all the senior members of the Administration, Bodie was the friendliest. Of course, he had good reason to be merry.
    On the other hand, p oor Mister Cantrell, the village blacksmith for more than forty years, still had not Merited children or even a wife. In a few years, it would be his time to retire to Balaveria, never having known the blessings of family.
    And there was Mister Blackthorne, the physic who, although he had achieved sufficient Merit some time before, still had no children . If there was no change soon, his wife would be reassigned, in accordance with the Laws and Ways of the Sentinel.
    He also spotted the Garrett family, including their daughter, Brita, who was only a month older than he was. She would soon be assigned a husband. A popular rumor held that she would be assigned to Mykah. Even though Mykah was his friend, this prospect bothered him–more than he would ever have admitted. Brita was a strange, proud girl–and she had fascinated him since they were small children. She was the only girl in the village with yellow hair. Even her mother did not have it. She talked fast and often used words he did not understand.   
    “Greetings, Daman,” Brita said, as she paused at his father’s booth.
    “Uh...hello . Greetings.” He dared a look at her, and saw that she was not entirely her usual self. Her face seemed drawn and tired. “Are you well?”
    “I’m magnificent,” she said . “Only exhausted. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
    He struggled for words. “It…is warm at night this time of year.”
    “That’s utterly irrelevant. ” She looked mildly annoyed. “I’ve been having dreams. Strange dreams.”
    “ About the festival?”
    Sh e looked as if she thought him utterly hopeless. “No, not about the Festival. Or Merrindale. About other places, other people.”
    “But–how can that be? ” He knew Brita had never been beyond the fence surrounding Merrindale. Only those in the Administration were allowed to travel, and then only in accordance with strict, regimented plans pre-approved by the Sentinel. Those who lost their Winnowing would only travel once, when they were taken from their families and transported to another village. And they would be blindfolded for the entire journey—for their own safety. They would see nothing.
    “It was just a dream,” Brita said quickly . “Are you ready for your Winnowing?”
    “Of course . Have you…been assigned?”
    “Not yet. ” A strange expression crossed her face.
    “Do you have any…preferences?”
    “Would it make any difference if I did? Don’t be so stupid, Daman. The Magistrate will do the will of the Sentinel, and the Sentinel will do whatever he wants, and there’s not a thing any of us can do about it.” She turned away from the booth and rejoined her parents.   
    Her words lingered even after she left. He had often thought the same—but he had never heard anyone express such thoughts out loud.
    A Black Sentry platoon passed by. Although in uniform, they were apparently off-duty, because they did not march in formation, two had removed their masks, and one was accompanied by a slave.