Free A Measure of Disorder by Alan Tucker Page A

dinner and the group had set up for the sparring matches. Everyone who wasn’t participating had taken to watching the bouts each night. Jenni led Crank away from them, but still within sight. They sat across from each other in the grass.
    “I wanted to ask you something,” she began. “I’ve noticed a lot of changes going on and wanted to see if you had, too.”
    Crank smiled. “Changes in your friends you mean? Yes. I have to admit I’m unsure of what is happening, though I have my suspicions.” He stopped and looked thoughtfully at her classmates and teachers.
    “Go on,” she encouraged. “I’d like to hear what you think.”
    He turned back and said, “I think that Mother is … molding them somehow. There are no humans here, as you’ve seen, so She is changing them to … fit in, I guess.”
    “But why would She do that?”
    “I don’t know. Mother doesn’t see fit to enlighten me on Her decisions,” he chuckled.
    Jenni smiled briefly, then sighed. “I haven’t talked to anyone about it, but I’m wondering: am I changing too and just not noticing it?”
    Crank eyed her. “No. I have seen no change in you. Well, except for your ability to speak, but everyone has gained that.” He paused. “I believe my idea to be sound, but I cannot explain you.”
    They sat quietly and listened to the weapons practice for a time. Shouts of encouragement for one contestant or another sounded between cracks of wood against wood. Ms. Pap had frowned on the activity at first. She didn’t like the gladiatorial aspect, but Mr. Kain had convinced her of its value — not only in practicing skills they may need, but it gave the group something to focus on besides homesickness.
    Jenni turned her attention to Crank again. “Can I ask how old you are?”
    “Of course,” he grinned. “This is my sixteenth summer.”
    “Wow, so you’re only a couple of years older than me. I turned fourteen in November.”
    “I do not know what it is ‘November’, but,” he said, “you would be ready for your final Naming this summer in my village.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Well, Nomenstrastenai go through several names during our childhood. Then, usually in our fifteenth summer, we receive our final Name. It is based on our function in the village.” He frowned. “Mine translates roughly as: ‘He who operates the water and defenses’. Crank.”
    Jenni studied his face. “That must have been hard for you. I can’t imagine being boxed into something like that.”
    Crank nodded slowly. “Yes. It was. After a year, I decided I couldn’t take being ‘Crank’ for the rest of my life, so I ran away to try to find some of the Elvorstrastenai . I hoped they might take me in and teach me their ways.” He smiled then and said, “But then I found you instead.”
    Jenni returned the smile. “And boy, are we glad you did!” She giggled. “We’d probably have ended up in someone’s cook pot by now if you hadn’t.”
    He shared her laugh. “Quite likely.”
    They stopped and listened to her classmates again. The match sounded intense. Jenni couldn’t see who was involved though through the crowd.
    “I am getting very worried about some of you,” Crank said.
    Jenni turned back, surprised. “Why?”
    He stopped to collect his thoughts, then said, “I have always been fascinated by plants and animals. I’ve studied them on my own a lot as I’ve gotten older — including other peoples like the Gobinstratstorai .” He paused again then, as if unsure if Jenni would believe him. “I think that some of you are becoming Gobinstratstorai , or their close relatives.”
    Jenni’s heart skipped a beat. “You think we’re changing into those things that tried to kill us at your village?”
    “Some of you, yes. Todd, certainly. Will and Kim I think, too. Some others maybe.”
    Jenni could see sadness and fear in his eyes. Now that he’d said it, she could see it herself — but she still didn’t want to believe it. “What