Becoming Read Online Free Page B

Kali said was that they needed to talk, and that Gaia was to go and see her tomorrow. This was Kali through and through. Plant the dagger, then twist and watch you wince and writhe.
    There were several incidents that had nurtured Gaia’s hatred. Instances when Kali would show her power and dominance, her willingness to inflict the severest pain. The first time was when Kali made Gaia stand in the snow in only a T-shirt and shorts until close to dying. All because Gaia had questioned her in front of the others. Soon after on construction duty Kali made Gaia drag the heaviest logs alone through thick mud. One by one, through the driving wind and rain. Worst of all were the quarantines. This was time in the shed where community members would be locked in solitary confinement for acts of disobedience. Kali had sent Gaia there more than anyone. One instance was during a sweltering summer when Gaia was locked inside for days without food and just enough water to survive. She was half-dead when Kali released her.
    When Gaia was not hating Kali her thoughts were locked on Aran, his smile, his blue eyes. Such thinking was discouraged. The phases of their lives were functional, each with a purpose. The leaders had a role, and their ultimate goal was to shape the community, to turn them into productive members, to be the best that they could be. There was no room for sentiment, emotion, or shows of affection. Each stage of Gaia’s life had felt like a cold, relentless march towards a manufactured outcome. The community had moved away from machines, but had become a machine itself. It was little more than a piece of engineering, an engine, a factory. The young were treated like parts within it, the cogs, the pistons, and the fuel. When they had become each would be given a separate role and function. Each would be honed and shaped, polished and finely tuned. Each would be necessary to the overall functioning of the machine. Emotion clouded rational thought and function, it was water in the oil. It served no purpose, but to complicate and confuse. There was something missing for Gaia.
    The moments spent with Aran had stirred something inside her. Feelings she had not felt before, feelings that confused and frightened her. She wanted them to go away, tried to smother them, but could not. They kept returning. Gaia needed to control these emotions, but all thoughts kept returning to his smile, and they would churn and flare up inside her. The acid in her stomach would rage and spit as though it were about to erupt from her throat. She tossed and turned with the tingling and burning, the warmth for Aran, and burning hatred of Kali.
    There was a tap at the window behind her. Gaia sat up and turned. There it was again, a gentle rap, maybe nothing. It came again, faint, not wanting to be heard. She stood, pulled back the corner of the curtain and peered out. The night was black, but for the soft light from the thinnest of crescent moons. Gaia peered over the ledge and saw Aran, his back pressed against the timber wall of the building. He peeked out and cast the briefest look up at her, pointed to the window, and gestured to her to open it. Gaia waved her hand at him to leave, but he twisted his face and shook his head, repeating the mime with more urgency. She mouthed the words ‘No. Go away!’ There was a silent plea, a begging look, and a pause. Aran shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, miming a sigh, and folding his arms.
    Determined to end the charade, Gaia frowned and loosened the old iron latch. It was tight and almost rusted on. There was a creak as it came free. There was a pause as Gaia listened, fearing someone might stir. Sure there was nothing but silence she opened the window, just enough to speak through it. Lowering herself to the crack Gaia spat at him in an angry whisper.
    ‘What are you doing here? You know what’ll happen if we’re caught!’
    ‘I need to speak with you. It’s important. Can we talk?’
    ‘Are