Free Revolution in the Underground by S. J. Michaels Page B

take.  He untied the bucket, tied it to a new rope and began lowering it into a reservoir.
                  “Well…” Maggie began with more than a hint of excitement, “Jet was there showing off his juggling skills… and by that I mean he dropped four of the farmer’s apples!”  Rouge laughed, if for no other reason than Maggie’s chuckle seemed to invite it.  “And then towards the end, Cyan and Orchid finally kissed each other!”
                  “Really?  I’m glad they finally got it done with!”
                  Maggie smiled diabolically and shot Ember a quick, fiend-like stare, but he was unavailable to receive it.  “Speaking of which…  When are you going to finally kiss my brother?”
                  Ember pulled the heavy, water-filled bucket from the reservoir, and walked past Maggie—trying hard not to show any emotion.
                  Rouge laughed awkwardly.  Maggie raised one eyebrow—conveying as much suspicion as knowledge.  “What makes you think we haven’t already,” Rouge said between laughs.
                  Maggie smiled.  “Ember, look at you!  Hey, are you blushing?!”
                  “The things I have to deal with,” he said in a grumble as he tied the filled bucket back onto Rouge’s rope.  Ember pulled on the other end of the rope, which was threaded through a pulley in such a way that it brought the bucket back up to Rouge.
                  “Hey Ember, are we still on for tomorrow night?”
                  “Yes.  I look forward to it,” he lied.
                  “Where are you two love birds going?” Maggie pried with an un-concealable smile.
                  “I’m not telling,” he said with a grin.
                  “The Comedy Club!” Rouge said, almost as soon as Ember finished his grin.  “But afterwards, we’re going over to the cave near the market.  Just the two of us.  So don’t go telling everyone, okay?!”
                  “Okay!” Maggie responded enthusiastically, smiling in Ember’s direction.
                  Ember nodded acceptingly.  “Alright Rouge, I’ll see you later.  Come on Maggie, let’s go.”
                  “Bye!” Rouge yelled, blowing a kiss.
                  “Where are we going?”
                  “The observatory?” he said with a shoulder shrug, already turning around and walking back toward the market center.
                  “Sure,” she acquiesced, running to catch up.  They decided not to take the shortcut back to the market, though the thought did independently cross both of their minds.  They walked slowly, but with the poise of purpose—each stride intentional and confident, assertions against the humdrum roll of the day’s mundane proceedings.  “So…  Tomorrow’s the day…” Maggie murmured at last.
                  “I suppose it is.”  Conservation did nothing to alter their inexorable synchronized gait. 
                  “Are you excited to start?  It’s quite an honor you know?”
                  “I suppose.”
                  “Everyone was really surprised that you were nominated.”
                  “I wasn’t.”
                  They continued steadily in silence.  When they arrived at the market square, they climbed a series of dilapidated wooden rungs to a small platform bolstered against the trunk of a tree.  The platform had been given the overstated name of “observatory” for no other reason than the fact that it supported a large converging lens through which Erosan ornithologists and naturalists would peer.  The observatory had fallen into disuse over the years, due dually to the decline in popular interest in bird species—of which no new ones had been