Budding environmental activist, Verity Truman (14), gets sent to a remotely located reform school for accidentally vandalizing the city hall building during a protest. With the goal of inculcating civil obedience and order, the 'HeadMaster', along with the other 'Re-educators' there are attempting to what amounts to brainwashing their young inmates with mind-numbing rules, slogans, and interrogations – mediated further by a newly introduced AI system. Verity, along with her younger brother, Silas, however, have access to a mind-awakening language based on intriguing symbols. With the help of an extraterrestrial emissary, they and their fellow inmates plan a strategy for neutralizing the effect of the mind-altering regimen.
Budding environmental activist, Verity Truman (14), gets sent to a remotely located reform school for accidentally vandalizing the city hall building during a protest. With the goal of inculcating civil obedience and order, the 'HeadMaster', along with the other 'Re-educators' there are attempting to what amounts to brainwashing their young inmates with mind-numbing rules, slogans, and interrogations – mediated further by a newly introduced AI system. Verity, along with her younger brother, Silas, however, have access to a mind-awakening language based on intriguing symbols. With the help of an extraterrestrial emissary, they and their fellow inmates plan a strategy for neutralizing the effect of the mind-altering regimen.
“Let nothing dim the light that shines from within.” Maya Angelou
PROLOGUE
“The sky up there is full of stories just waiting to land.” Grandpa pointed with the tip of his cane.
Over Silas’s head, the stars gleamed with mystery. Their stories had been millions, billions of years in the making. Stories that traveled to Earth only in the form of tiny pinpricks of light.
“I met one, once ...” Grandpa smiled at the thought, lost in his memories. “It changed the course of my life.”
Grandpa’s tales never disappointed, and Silas glanced over at his older sister Verity in hope that she was listening intently as well. But she was sleeping, her head slumped against the arm of Grandpa’s porch swing. Silas hunkered down in the tattered armchair he always claimed for himself.
“It arrived with a spark like a shooting star and shared a way of thinking and communicating that reshaped everything I thought I knew about language and meaning. It showed me that understanding and peace are a circle flowing together seamlessly, like a river meets the ocean ...”
Grandpa trailed off, lost in thought, a contemplative look on his face.
“Was ... it made of light?” asked Silas, fascinated by the constellations overhead and the possibilities they held. “In a sense. It drank from the suns of the universe and carried what we might call a light with it—a philosophical light, anyway. And it carried a philosophy of peace to every planet it visited using an unearthly language designed to convey these very thoughts. A cosmic speech for truth and wisdom that sang with inner harmony between sound and symbol. Meaning could become visible, like through an open window. And its symbols reflected the whole universe in the miniature world of our mind. Keep an eye on the sky, my boy, because what you take to be a shooting star might just be something more profound ...” Silas propped his chin on his hands, searching the sky for shooting stars or evidence of Grandpa’s language of light. But it was late, and sleep beckoned. Overcome by a feeling of calm, he felt his eyelids drooping, and soon he was asleep, his dreams vibrant with thoughts of an otherworldly being and a language that just might change everything.
1
The retreating day was gray above the reaching arms of the forest. Beneath the fragrance of the pines and ferns was the sense that the world was waiting for someone to look closely enough to discover its secrets.
Fourteen-year-old Verity Truman often had this feeling, but this evening it was especially strong.
“Earth to Verity! I guess you left this one for me?” Silas, Verity’s younger brother, pointed to a morel mushroom peeking out from beneath a felled tree she’d missed. A founding member of the Wild Boys, Silas was an aspiring outdoorsman whose lifelong goal was to live off the land. This was one of the side effects of growing up with earth-loving parents who thought that rescuing food from supermarket dumpsters was a more ethical way to shop. Verity didn’t mind foraged food, but she did like having an actual roof over her head most of the time. And running water.
Verity cut the mushroom from the ground.
“Last one. We should head back before it gets too dark.”
Silas led the way, his perfectly honed internal compass telling him when and where to turn or double back. Each tree or rock or clearing was like a signpost for him. Verity loved trees as much as the next person, but after a while, they all started to look alike.
“Wait.” Silas pulled up. “Do you see that?”
A light flickered and danced, accompanied by an intense whirring sound, kissing the leaves it touched with white and gold. It was vivid against the dusky sky, resembling the narrow beam of a flashlight.
“Is that a giant lightning bug? Or firefly?” Verity had never been clear whether there was even a difference between the two.
But the iridescent green-winged creature was far too large for that: it was the size of a robust dragonfly, only it hummed more sonorously. Even so, Verity cringed as it zoomed overhead. Anything that fast and flashy made her feel vulnerable. “Or maybe it’s an exotic hummingbird-bug hybrid?” She thought her bird expert brother might be amused by her terminology.
But he said nothing, too intent on his mission. Beckoning Verity, he followed the zigzagging passage of the light as it leapt from bough to bough and leaf to leaf, then somersaulted a series of elongated loops into the air.
With each upward loop, it produced what sounded like a bright “ee-ee-ee!”
They chased the creature into a clearing, but just as they drew closer it leapt up, vanishing from sight. Silas slumped in disappointment. Verity, too, felt she had somehow missed out on something amazing.
“Maybe it’ll come back,” she said optimistically.
“Maybe ...” said Silas. He began to add something, then decided against it. “At least we’re right by the camp.”
A turn at a moss-smothered tree and they were back in the clearing they’d
spent the day setting up. The fire crackled merrily, warning the evening to back off a bit. Dad was seasoning a pan over its dancing flames.
“Look at all this!” he called approvingly as he took in the goods Verity and Silas carried. “We’re in for a feast tonight.”
“This is going to be your father’s best pilaf yet.” Mom was reading by the fire. She had decided long ago that reading in poor light was worth ruining your eyesight over. She would never have climbed the ranks at the museum otherwise.
Verity and Silas diced the zucchini and morels while Dad sauteed the onions. He tossed in the vegetables, stirring them in the sizzle of oil.
“It’s so nice to be out here, away from it all.” He waved his wooden spoon. “No newspapers, no angry talking heads on television, no people yelling hateful things entirely unsupported by evidence. If we’re lucky, the world will still be there when we get back.”
“I hope so.” Mom was still nose down in her book. “We have the new museum exhibit opening, and I, for one, plan to be there for the launch.”
Dad tasted a caramelized onion. “Mm! The green energy exhibit? That’s my wife, stirring up trouble wherever she goes.”
“Well, museums aren’t just about collecting things to put on display. We have a social responsibility.”
“Now more than ever, I’d say.” Dad drained the saucepan that had been burbling away at the side of the fire. “Especially with that whole thing about blocking the new solar array venture. Coal, in this day and age! It makes no sense at all. That’s what happens when you’re more interested in the money you get from the big coal lobby than the future of the planet.”
“That’s always great to hear,” said Verity wryly. “Silas and I will be the ones
who’ll be trying to stay alive when the oceans rise and we start burning up.”
“Ideally we’ll be around for some of it as well,” pointed out her dad. “We’re not that old, you know.”
“Well, not as old as Pleistocene megafauna,” Silas said deadpan, focused on the piece of wood he was whittling.
“Or dinosaurs,” added Verity with a grin.
Mom put down her book and dug her toes into the moss. She looked nostalgic. “Remember that time during college when we broke into the city council member’s office and covered his desk with buckets of salt water and seaweed because he refused to get behind sustainable fisheries?”
Dad chuckled. “I think some tins of sardines were involved, too.”
Mom wrinkled her nose. “The stench was incredible. But he deserved it. Besides, you have to stand behind what you believe in. I know everyone has the right to a voice, but sometimes people are just wrong, and they need to be shown.”
“Without using violence, of course,” added Dad.
Verity and Silas exchanged a look. They had a protest of their own planned for the night they got back home. Both were active members of goEco, a local grassroots group for environmentally aware kids led by college students concerned about their future and fed up with political inaction. Over the years, they’d petitioned for smart water meters and recycling bins, but they’d started to set their sights higher. After all, the adults weren’t planning on doing anything about climate change. They were too busy thinking about making money and how to spend it.
“Ready spaghetti?” whispered Silas as their parents started plating up dinner.
Verity nodded. The plan was to tape up black trash bags painted to look like solar panels all around the neighborhood. There was no way the city representatives
could keep ignoring the problem with the solution staring them right in the face.
“Here you go.” Dad passed over a plate of luscious-looking pilaf, and Verity happily dug in her fork.
Mom raised a glass of water in a toast. “To good food!”
“And good people,” added Verity, sharing a meaningful look with Silas.
#
The moon’s giant eye was gazing down at Verity when she awoke in the middle of the night. She wasn’t sure what had roused her—maybe a passing animal or her dad’s famously eardrum-shattering snores. But she did know she needed to pee. Finding somewhere to go was one of the downsides of camping.
Her sleeping bag crinkled as she slithered out and found her bearings. The fire had simmered down to coals; other than the moon, there was barely any light. She rummaged around for a flashlight but remembered Mom had borrowed it to read with. She’d just have to hope for the best.
Verity tiptoed across the camp and over to the trees, arms held out like a zombie. Stumbling on a protruding tree root, she cursed Mom’s campfire reading habits and her lack of a flashlight.
Suddenly, the path before her lit up with a flickering light—just like from the creature she’d spotted earlier that evening. Thrilled to be privy to another sighting, she kept her eye on it as she found a log that would serve as a perfect lean-to.
Verity marveled at the light emanating from the sprite-like creature and the clear, rich sound that accompanied its movements. She knew lightning bugs lit up to signal their mates but even as showy and attractive as these signals appeared, there were no others around that she could see.
“ee - ee - eh - eh - o - o,” it fluted.
There was something warm and comforting about the calm, repetitive loops it traced in the air. These left a lingering afterglow trail like a New Year’s sparkler dancing against the dark of night:
[missing image]
Then a new set of figures appeared—these not as connected as the former.
[missing image]
After a minute or so, the creature shot up into the sky, disappearing among the stars. Now it was just Verity and the moon, and Verity wasn’t inclined to hang out alone in the woods.
Back amid the muddle of sleeping bags and cooking utensils, she groped around for Silas’s stargazing notebook. With only the moonlight to guide her, she drew the loops the creature had made, hoping her scrawl would be recognizable in the morning.
#
Verity awoke to Silas’s insistent shaking. His stargazing notebook was pressed
uncomfortably close to her face.
“Is this you?” he asked, jabbing at the loops Verity had dazedly scrawled in the middle of the night.
Verity blinked blearily. “I saw that bug again. It was making those shapes over and over.”
His expression intent, Silas slowly flipped through the notebook, revealing other similar forms:
[missing image]
“How about these?” he asked.
“Wow, some busy bee, huh?” Verity was impressed. But as Verity mused over the figures, she felt a memory stirring. She vaguely recalled being perched in Grandpa’s lap, enthralled by the story he was telling. But the details escaped her. She frowned, wondering precisely why that memory had surfaced—and why now.
I have made it a goal over the past few years to introduce more works of fiction into my reading. I am mainly looking to add enjoyment and not just knowledge transfer into my life, and this book definitely added to my enjoyment. I admit that I would not normally be one to pick up a book about environmentalists, but here we are. Thankfully, this was one that gripped my attention from the very first page.
Weilgart has managed to create a story that will leave you turning page after page long into the night. When the alien entity shows up in the book the story picks up the pace even more. I am thankful that Weilgart includes visible illustrations of the language that she has intended to create. While I am sure it has similarities to a known language, it was nice not to try and decipher it but instead take it as it came.
While the thought of artificial intelligence scares me a bit, I do not think that it will pose quite a threat as the one described in the book. If it does, it will be after I have departed this earth. However, Weilgart does make you ponder the power that this thing has to control people and get into their brain. I think adding the desire for it to overtake the familial nature of humans is what made this all the more tense.
This is likely not a book that will wind up on the shelf of my local library, but I am glad that it wound up on my shelf. I enjoyed this one much more than I thought I would and it was fast-paced enough to keep me going. I would think any young teen would enjoy it and maybe even preteen depending upon their maturity. I have been both challenged and made happier because of this book. I think you'll like it.