Free Summer Ruins by Trisha Leigh Page A

feels like the summer at the lake that Cadi showed me.
    My eyes see nothing of the sort, though.
    Ice stretches as far as the eye can see. Ahead and to the right is a huge, transparent dome. It looks like a soap bubble but sturdier, the early morning sunshine glittering off the frost that coats the top and inches down the sides.
    Now that Pax and I aren’t in danger of freezing to death, each encased in an invisible temperate pouch of our own, the climate doesn’t seem different when we step through a hatch and into the enclosure. I realize after a moment how much energy it takes to maintain my shield of warmth and drop it a little at a time, testing the temperature in the bubble.
    Not as warm as I’d like, but not cold. Lucas’s hand slides into mine and I take a couple steps toward him so that our hips are touching.
    There are rows and rows of tents that resemble the Prime family’s quarters, only smaller. They stretch from wall to wall, front to back, and stack from bottom to top. Pathways wind between them and rickety staircases like the ones Deshi collapsed in the Underground Core last spring climb toward the roof. It’s eerily quiet. There must be thousands—tens of thousands—of people housed in here, and yet I don’t hear a peep.
    “Where is everyone?”
    “Breakfast isn’t for another ten minutes,” Deshi explains. “The tents are designed by a species I doubt you’ve met—Antals. They trap sound as efficiently as they hold the inhabitants inside except during allowable work hours.”
    Antals. I wonder where they’re from, why the Others chose to drag them along after they used up their planet. I’m almost too tired right now to care.
    Deshi’s still talking. “There are four meal tents, spaced out against the outside walls. You’ll recognize them because they’re bigger than the rest of the furnicars. Plus Lucas has seen it before, he can show you around.” He stops, holding open a flap. “Here we go. This is where the Elements stay when they’re on site.”
    Inside, it’s not quite as nice as I expected. There are two beds, each smaller than the ones in all of my human houses. The sheets are plain white, the blankets brown and suspiciously scratchy looking. The ground is the same transparent substance as the bubble, and white ice glows underneath it. Between the beds, at the back of the tent, is a single dresser. Deshi pulls open a drawer to reveal clean clothes.
    “The cleansing rooms and wasterooms are clustered in the center of the terraform. There are four, but they only operate the hour after the workday concludes. We’ll make an exception today, since you’ve just arrived and I doubt you realize how off your conception of the day and time are. Tomorrow you’ll be expected to observe the same schedule as everyone else.” He strides back to the tent flap that leads outside.
    “We’re trapped in here, then? Until when?” Pax demands, his hands clenched at his sides.
    None of us fare well in captivity, not after so many years of not being able to go or do as we please. Familiar distrust blooms in my chest, crawls upward until it gets the better of me.
    “Why are you even letting us stay together? Isn’t the Prime afraid we’ll cause some kind of trouble or get away or something?” I shoot at Deshi.
    “As I said, you will be confined by the Harvest Site rules, and there is little free time for anyone.” Deshi smirks. “Lucas can fill you in on why extreme measures aren’t necessary, even for you.”
    I glance at Lucas, who shrugs. “There’s no way out of here. Not even for us. We could make trouble using our elemental abilities, but there wouldn’t be any point. We’re here until they say we’re not.”
    “I wouldn’t cause any trouble. The Prime and his Wardens may not be able to kill the three of you, but they can separate you. And they will not hesitate to take out their anger on those who are not protected by genetics.”
    Silence follows his threat and jabs me