Defy the Dark Read Online Free Page B

often relieved to give it up. They are the pillars of support in New Horizon, and Richardson taught that we are never to look down on them. Their life is far from grueling—no one works more than forty hours a week and never in unsafe conditions. We have thousands of years of terrible history to teach us that breaching either of those standards is a sure road to societal dissolution.
    New Horizon is better than that.
    The Nurtures will head off to university. They’re the learned of our society, and their mission is twofold: to enhance our society for the next generation, and to raise the next generation to enhance society. Most will go on to teach, to nurture children into proper citizens. It’s the path I should be headed down.
    Instead I’m following two other teenagers, one girl and one boy, to the tall, broad building where the Natures live. It’s their job—our job— my job—to simply produce the next generation.
    Well, not simply. Natures are intelligent enough to work what I always called the “semiskilled” jobs, because, in my mind, those jobs weren’t as important as the Nurture jobs.
    The job someone else is going to do now.
    I’ll be given a career that won’t break down my body—a body that is now excessively precious to New Horizon as a whole—but that will require more skill than many of the Laborers possess. It won’t be something that requires sustained focus or consistent attendance; nothing will be allowed to interfere with the creation of a new generation. I won’t be assigned; I’ll rotate until I find something I like, and then I’ll get to choose. It’s not like we’re brood mares with no liberties.
    But right now it kind of feels that way.
    It’s early evening. Most of the day workers are home. Almost all of them are through with dinner at the cafeteria and are home with friends. It’s a time for socializing and enjoying life, a life that’s comfortable for everyone.
    I had butterscotch pudding again— just butterscotch pudding.
    The woman leading us is barely pregnant enough to show, but not enough that it slows her down. She gives us name tags and cards that will let us into the Nature Building. She pauses at an elegant set of double doors and asks in a gentle, quiet voice, “Do you have any questions?”
    I can hear that she expects there to be none. We’ve studied Richardson. We know our roles. We’ve been learning them since the first grade. There are no secrets in New Horizon.
    I want to ask her if she’s happy.
    But I don’t.
    When none of us speak, she smiles, swipes her card, and pushes both doors open. I’ve never been here before and don’t know really what to expect.
    But a party?
    Maybe this is normal.
    We’re surrounded by surprisingly attractive people gathered around tall tables that are just the right height to lean on while standing. Munchies are set out, and I feel a little sick when I catch sight of a tray of cream puffs drizzled with chocolate. I should have eaten something decent at dinner.
    There are a good number of pregnant women, many reclining in comfortable chairs set around the perimeter of the enormous room. I admit, not as many as I thought there would be. I guess I expected everyone to be waddling around with swollen bellies. But there are only a handful of those, maybe one in ten.
    But they look good. Weirdly. They’re swathed in colorful clothing that makes them look chic and sophisticated, smiling and chatting with one another—not merely fulfilling a biological process that any female could potentially do. Prior to being initiated as a Laborer or Nurturer, anyway. Only Natures have children.
    I’m trying not to stare when a shout from the front of the room mercifully pulls my attention from the women. It takes me a few seconds to locate the source of the noise, and by the time I do, he’s done talking and he’s