They passed by numerous women and some older children, but none paid them any mind. They couldn't see them.
When they reached the playground, they found the pedestrian gate in the fence open, which was a security hazard, especially since there seemed to be no guard on duty to make sure that no kids left the playground without their mothers' approval.
Number One closed the gate behind them, and that was when he felt the guard, who was standing next to the bathroom where there was shade. The male had a particular cognitive signature because his attention was active rather than passive.
His job was to guard, and he was doing his duty.
He wasn't a passive observer just existing in the moment.
The thrall needed to be thicker to affect the man, and the collective pushed more power to Number One through the connection.
Number Three did so as well, letting Number One be the spigot through which the collective power flowed.
With the guard's mind taking the suggestion to ignore the two soldiers who shouldn't be there, his eyes passed over them without registering anything when they walked by him.
Sullha sat at her regular bench, her back to the playground's gate and her face turned toward another woman who was sitting beside her, with hair that was a shade darker than Sullha's and woven into a single thick braid that lay against her spine.
Yaaf felt Number Three tense.
His expression didn't change, and his pace did not slow, but internally there was the equivalent of a held breath.
The braid. The shape of the shoulders. The angle at which she held her head.
They were all familiar, but Number Three wasn't sure he was remembering his mother or shaping his memories to fit the woman sitting on the bench with Sullha.
Number One didn't comment, and he didn't offer suggestions. He gave Number Three room to breathe.
Instead, he looked at the sandbox, where he knew he would find Tomek because he didn't see him on the climbing structure.
The boy was on his knees, his hands buried up to the wrists in damp sand, and he was showing a very young girl how to extract sand and then mold it into the desired shape. The girl had a round face, and her hair was gathered on top of her head with curly wisps sticking out from it and framing her little face. She had on a dress that was once yellow, but the color had faded and it was covered in sand.
Children in the enclosure rarely got new clothes to wear. When kids outgrew their clothing, they were returned to the large bin where everyone could pick whatever they needed, and they found something that fit them.
There was no need for frugality. The Brotherhood had plenty of money, and buying new clothes for the children and their mothers wouldn't have made a dent in the budget. But it was a deliberate tactic to keep the occupants of the enclosure oppressed. The more hopeless and dejected they felt, the less resistance they offered.
That must be my sister, Number Three thought, and the collective absorbed it.Bianca.
A warmth radiated through the shared space and pressed against the other seven minds with a force that none of them had been prepared for.
Yaaf felt its full impact due to their physical proximity.
Number Three had only learned about Bianca's existence two days ago when Sullha told Number One that he had a sister.
He hadn't expected to be overcome with emotion upon seeing the child, and therefore the collective hadn't been ready for it either.
Yaaf put his hand on Number Three's arm to slow him down.We need to extend the thrall to the children.
Number Three nodded.
They stopped about two meters from the bench.
The other woman beside Sullha was talking. Her voice was soft, and it carried a little lift at the end of each sentence.
Number Three's hand twitched at his side.
Number One glanced at him.Are you sure this is your mother?
Number Three nodded. He was convinced now that he wasn't shaping his memories to fit the woman, and that she was his mother. I recognize her voice.
