She was about to enter the ring of light from a streetlamp when she heard a sharp, low voice from her right.

"Stone!"

A thick-bodied, short man beckoned to her from a dark doorway, and she almost wept with relief. Ahead, the soldiers were picking up their pace, on line to intersect with her.

"Quickly!" the man said again, but Gaia was already speeding toward him.

He pulled her in with a strong hand and shut the door behind them. Gaia was in a narrow passage with a low ceiling. The air smelled of garbage and urine, but as she hurried behind the man, she could see a warm, yellow light ahead of her. He pulled her through another door and closed it tightly, sliding a bolt across it.

Gaia had never been so happy in her whole life. Before her, warm and massive, stood the hearth of the black ovened bakery.

Chapter 19 Jacksons' Bakery

THE BRICK OVEN WITH its massive chimney bisected the bakery into the front shop area where Leon had only the day before bought her a small black loaf, and the back work area, where now Gaia stood catching her breath. The warm smell of bread welcomed her like an embrace. A great wooden table stood in the center of the room with a lamp above casting a circle of light upon it. The white string for the lamp had a small measuring spoon tied to the end as a pull tab, and the metal gleamed from use. A teenage boy and a no-nonsense woman stood quietly before the oven, their sleeves rolled up and their hands flecked with flour and bits of dough. Just then, the back door opened again, and a young girl of nine or ten with bright pink cheeks hurried in. The girl threw back the green hood of her cloak, grinning.

"You found her!" the girl said.

The baker ruffled her light brown hair in a loving, proud gesture that reminded Gaia of her own father. "Didn't I tell you she'd come?"

"How did you know?" Gaia said.

The woman wiped her hands in her copious apron. "We've been watching for you nonstop since we heard you were moved to the Bastion. If ever you had a chance to get free of the guards, it would be now or never. Mace was hoping you d try to come to us."

"I was looking, too," the girl said excitedly. "I was supposed to call 'Stone!' to you, and if you showed me your scar face, I would take you in."

Gaia slowly pushed her hood back and watched the curiosity on the girl's face as she inspected Gaia's scar.

"Exactly," the girl said, sounding satisfied.

Gaia smiled, but she knew she wouldn't be safe there long. "I was seen coming in with you," she said, turning to the baker. "You can't keep me here or you'll be in trouble."

"I don't think so. That was a sauna parlor, there, where I found you," the baker said. "They'll just think you were working the late shift."

Gaia was baffled. "A sauna parlor?"

She saw the baker and his wife hesitate.

The girl clarified in her open, childish voice. "He means it's a brothel."

The baker clapped a hand to his forehead.

"What?" the girl said. "It's a very discreet, high-class brothel. Tell them, Oliver."

"Real nice, Yvonne. Thanks," the teenager said, blushing. His mother looked murderous. "Hey, Ma. It's not like I go there. I just told her-- "

"Enough," her mother said. "Why don't you go up on the roof and keep an eye out? Tell us if any guards start up our street."

The teenager ducked his head and vanished up a narrow flight of stairs.

The baker cleared his throat. "Ah. Well. Here's a nice introduction to our family. My precocious daughter there is Yvonne," he said, nodding at the girl. "I'm Mace Jackson, and this is my wife Pearl. That was Oliver."

Pearl came over and gave Gaia a big hug.

"What you've been through I can't begin to think," she said in a gruff voice. She gave Gaia a roll of warm, buttery bread, swirled with cinnamon and sugar, and pushed her gently onto a stool. Her kindness should have made Gaia relax, but she could feel anxious jitters in her veins as she sat down, and though her mouth watered, she couldn't take a bite of the cinnamon roll.

"What's our plan?" Gaia said to Mace.

"It depends on what you want to do," he said.

She took a deep breath, holding the roll between dainty fingers. "What are my choices?"

"I could get you out of the city at daybreak," he said. "Oliver and my apprentice, Jet, often go out for wood, and they could take you with them in the bike cart. It would be risky, but I think it could be done."

Gaia remembered the carts drawn by bikes that occasion' ally came out of the wall. She pictured herself hiding in one, maybe under some sacks. She'd be in danger of discovery every time the cart lurched over a bump or a guard poked the sacks.

"Is there any other choice?" Gaia asked.

"You could stay with us," little Yvonne said. "We have an extra bed in my room."

Gaia glanced from the girl to her mother as Pearl shifted backward slightly. Though Pearl's expression remained concerned and kindly, there was sorrow in her gray eyes that Gaia didn't miss.

"Thank you, Yvonne," Gaia said gently.

The girl took a step nearer and tilted her face in a bashful smile. "It was my sister's bed," she said. "I know she'd want you to use it."

Pearl cleared her throat in the silence.

"But not for long," Gaia said. "It wouldn't be safe for you."

"Were safe enough, as long as you stay inside," Pearl said. She hesitated, and then touched her chin with her knuckles in a thoughtful manner. "My other daughter, my Lila-- she died last year from complications of hemophilia. We decided then, all of us, that if we could do something to help the people out' side the wall, then we would. We didn't guess that a girl would show up on our doorstep, let alone the one who saved that convict's baby, but here you are."

Gaia lowered her gaze for a moment, doubting she was worthy of their kindness. "Do you think the people outside the wall could have helped save your daughter? Is that why?" she asked quietly.

Pearl shook her head, her eyes dry and lost looking for a moment. "No. Nothing that simple. We just don't want any other family to go through what we've gone through."

Mace was rolling up his sleeves. "We're thinking a generation ahead, if you get my meaning. For the whole Enclave, the way we're supposed to. My family carries the recessive gene that leads to hemophilia, and so, well-- " He stopped himself. "That's neither here nor there."

"No, please. I want to know."

She saw Mace and Pearl exchange a glance. Then Pearl leaned her knuckles on the edge of the table as she sat on a stool.

"There's too many of us now carrying the hemophilia," she said. "There's children like Lila all over the Enclave, and their families are all grieving. I don't know if we need to advance a ton more children or just open the gates permanently, but it's time to start working with the people outside the wall. They're the ones who are going to save us in the end."

As Gaia pondered Pearl's altruistic explanation, it changed how she saw the people of the Enclave. This family's loss was being played out all around the city, everywhere a child died. The problems of inbreeding, she realized, had already affected real families.

Mabrother Iris was trying to solve that problem on a massive scale. And yet, she didn't see how identifying the parents of advanced babies from Western Sector Three would help. There must be more to it, something Mabrother Iris had not told her.

"You understand it's dangerous for us to say this," Mace said. He looked at Yvonne. "This can't go any farther than this room."

"I know, Daddy. I didn't say anything."

"Have you heard some girls were arrested today?" Gaia asked.

"They weren't arrested. They were taken to a special school," Pearl said. "Some boys were taken, too."

"And why were they chosen?"

"They all had a certain freckle pattern on their ankles," Pearl said.

"Oh, no," Gaia groaned. She closed her eyes and bent her face into her hand. "It's started," she whispered. The Enclave had already made a move based on what she'd told them. It was her fault! She looked up again, blinking. "They're going to control more and more," she said. "Who gets taken without notice. Who you marry. Who gets to keep their babies. Can't you see? We have to stop them."

Mace let out a laugh. "You're taking this way out of proportion," he said.

"No," she disagreed, stepping nearer to the table. "We have to stop them before it gets out of control." Her mind leaped ahead. "We have to get rid of the wall."

Mace lifted his hand. "Nobody's ripping down any wall," he said calmly.

"I don't understand," Yvonne said. "What do the freckles have to do with getting married?"

Gaia leaned closer to Yvonne so she could speak to her at eye level. She forced her voice to stay calm. "The freckles show that an advanced person was born in my neighborhood outside the wall. That's all. But for some reason, the Protectorat cares especially about those people, enough to take them tonight."

"And you think he'll experiment on them or something?" Yvonne asked, her eyes widening.

Gaia didn't know what to tell her. She glanced up at Pearl.

"No," Pearl said soothingly, putting her hands on the girl's shoulders. "He wouldn't do that. Gaia just got a little excited, but she's just guessing at things, aren't you, Gaia?"

Gaia glanced at the girl with her large, solemn eyes. The truth was, she didn't know what the Protectorat's plan was, but she was certain he had one, and that she was missing an important piece of the puzzle. "I think," said Gaia, making a decision. "That you'd better help me get outside the wall. As soon as possible. I don't want to get you all into trouble."

"No," said Pearl. "I don't believe in this tear-down-the-wall agenda, but you need to stay here, with us. You'll be safe here, and you can think through your plans rationally. There's no immediate hurry. Whatever help you need, we'll give. Isn't that right, Mace?"

His dark eyebrows were set in a line, and he nodded.

Gaia took a deep breath, and finally took a little bite of the bread in her fingers. It was so good, so moist and buttery and rich, that she made an involuntary crooning noise in the back of her throat.

Yvonne laughed. "See, Mom? I'm not the only one who makes that noise. Don't we make the most incredible cinnamon rolls?"

Gaia swallowed, smiling. Something about Yvonne re' minded Gaia of Emily when she was little, and she couldn't help liking her. "Yes. They're spectacular."

"Would you look at the time?" Mace said. "We've got some work to do. Yvonne, go and get Oliver back down here. Then see if you can't catch some sleep before school. Take Gaia up with you. She's not leaving today, in any case."

Pearl was already dumping a huge pile of dough onto a floured board, and she punched it powerfully with her fist before she broke it in quarters and started kneading.

Gaia slid out of the way.

Yvonne pulled her hand and grabbed an extra cinnamon roll on the sly. "Come on," she said, and scampered up the narrow wooden staircase, her feet making a quick, merry clatter. It took Gaia a moment to realise why the noise surprised her so much: it was a sound of happiness, and she hadn't been around laughter or happiness for a long, long time. She took a deep breath, deliberately forced the tension to ease out of her shoulders, and climbed up after the girl.

Gaia awoke to the noise of a door closing downstairs. The room she shared with Yvonne was in the back of the apartment over the bakery, and for the three nights she'd been there, she'd been smelling the bread in the ovens all through her dreams: warm, buttery dreams that soothed her heart and gave her hope that everything might still work out all right. She missed her parents, and for some maddening reason, she missed Leon, too. She had despised him as the worst sort of betrayer when he left her in the Bastion, but based on what Sgt. Bartlett had said, he had been detained by his father. It seemed likely to her that he was enjoying a nice cup of tea with his father and Mabrother Iris right now, happy to finally be back in their good graces. But maybe, just maybe, he was trapped in the Protectorate web as much as she was.