Among the Nameless Stars

a large black X.

    Among the Nameless Stars by Diana Peterfreund
    | 35
    Dear Elliot,
    You were right. You were right all along, and I hate you for it.
    I thought I was miserable on the North Estate. When I heard of Posts leaving their estates, I thought it was for the same reasons I wanted to leave. Freedom and the chance to make a better life. But now I see what they’re really running from, and what brand of “freedom”
    awaits them in the enclaves.
    I thought I was clever, but I don’t have any of the skills I need to get by here. I’m not tricky enough. I’m not strong enough. If only my father had taught me how to fight instead of how to fix a tractor. If you were here, could you have stopped me from being so foolish, so rash?
    Could we have figured out an escape together?
    But I forgot. For you, there was always an escape. You needed only to tell a passing Luddite who you were, and they would save you. They take care of their own. But we—we free Posts, who are so reckless as to leave the protection of our estate? We deserve everything we get.
    Kai

    Among the Nameless Stars by Diana Peterfreund
    | 36

Eight
    Dear Elliot,
    It’s spring again. I imagine you’re busy with planting, and I hope you’re doing what you can to keep that tractor in working order. I’ve written you so many letters in the past few months—mostly in my head. It would look too suspicious if I bought paper, not that I have much money to spare. Pen makes sure of that. No money to spare for extra food or lessons or savings of any sort. No money to spare, or then we might escape. But I can’t seem to break the habit of writing you letters, even if I don’t write half of them down and would never send those I do put on paper.
    I think of you constantly. Not just you but everyone on the North Estate. I can’t help it. It’s the only thing that’s gotten me through this winter. The people here, especially Pen’s people, are so different. Sometimes I talk to Bess, but only when we’re sure no one can hear us, since we usually talk about books. She would be beaten if they thought she was teaching me to read.
    The real secret is much more interesting. Because I’m the one teaching people to read. It’s the only escape I have left.

    Kai slid the paper beneath his toolbox as he heard footsteps behind him, and just in time, too, as Pen’s voice boomed through the warehouse. “Kai! Stop wasting time on that stupid fishing boat. I’ve got a more important job for you.”
    “Right away.” Kai straightened, wincing slightly. His leg was better now, the limp not quite so noticeable, but Pen’s healer had warned him it might never vanish completely. At the time, Among the Nameless Stars by Diana Peterfreund
    | 37
    Kai had shrugged the diagnosis off. What did it matter if Pen’s pet mechanic had a permanent limp?
    Behind Pen, a bunch of workers were hauling in a large speedboat on a wheeled trailer. As it neared, Kai gave a silent groan. He had no idea where Pen had unearthed the antique piece of junk, but he knew precisely who would be expected to restore it to pristine condition.
    Next to Pen, Bess stood silent. She was enormous now. Kai expected her to go into labor any day. He knew Bess lived in terror of what Pen might do to the baby. Kill it? Sell it? Or, worst of all, keep it as another of his slaves? She didn’t dare get on his bad side now—not that any of them ever dared. She never complained when, because of some imagined mistake, Pen tore up letters she painstakingly transcribed for him. Pen insisted on examining every document, as if looking at the pages would convince people he could actually read them. But when they were alone, Bess was savage toward the man who’d killed her Sid and was keeping her prisoner.
    “It’s not that he won’t get lessons either,” she’d whispered to Kai once. “He can’t learn to read—something’s wrong with his brain. It mixes up all the letters. He doesn’t want anyone to know. Puts him one step closer to the Reduced.”
    “I never knew a Reduced as mean as him,” Kai had replied. He’d thought of his new friends, the brother and sister he was secretly teaching to read. The process was slow and frustrating, but it was moving forward. How awful would it be if you could never learn at all?
    But he wouldn’t feel sympathy for Pen. The man was a murderer and a tyrant.
    He limped his way over to where they were waiting. Pen slapped the side of the machine and grinned with