Her nervousness faded as Mr. Clary began to speak. He had acted like an ordinary parent in the car, but he sounded different now. Commanding. Inspiring. It dawned on her for the first time where she was. Forget the ages and the crowd size and who was here and who wasn’t: nobody here had a Pilot. When was the last time she had been anywhere like that? Even in her special classroom the teachers had them. Even in her family, her mom and brother.
These people were old enough that they’d gotten to grow up without Pilots being the only option. They had a right to be nervous about the future, afraid for their kids or whatever else. For the first time, Sophie didn’t just feel resigned about it; she was angry. She glanced at Gabe, and Gabe grinned. His father must have given this speech before. Like a mind reader, he mouthed, in concert with Mr. Clary, “So what are we going to do about it?”
Sophie grinned back, and the smile turned her anger into power. For a second, she wished her ma were here to see this. She would appreciate it, too; all these people with the same fears she had. All these people who faced the same problems at work and at school, whose kids faced the same prejudices she faced.
Sophie worked hard to not let anyone bully her. Usually she felt like it was a losing battle, which maybe it was, but the rebel army had more allies than she had realized. Maybe they had a chance to do something on a bigger scale, against bigger bullies.
She realized Gabe was staring at her. Mr. Clary beckoned her to join him. She took a few steps forward. “This brave young woman is here for the first time.”
“Welcome!” people shouted, along with a scattering of applause.
He held out his megaphone. “Do you want to say anything?”
“Go on,” whispered Gabe. “Say whatever you want. It’s better if it isn’t a speech. Say something quick, from the heart.”
“You do it first.”
Gabe shook his head. “I hate public speaking. Not my thing. Besides, I’m not new.”
Sophie had never spoken in front of anybody, so she didn’t know if she hated it or not. David used to complain about it in high school, but nobody ever asked kids in her class to do stuff like that; they didn’t even bother to invite them to run for student council. She hesitated, took a deep breath, then took Mr. Clary’s megaphone. One way to find out.
“Um, hi.” Her voice shook. She expected someone to laugh, but nobody did. They all looked friendly, expectant. It gave her courage.
“Hi, this is my first time here, but, um, you knew that ’cause Mr. Clary just said it.” They laughed this time, but not at her. “One of my moms has a Pilot, and my brother, but I can’t get one. And I don’t want to! Is it smart for everybody to go changing their brains without knowing everything about it? Brains are complicated, and um, we only get one. Maybe we shouldn’t mess with them.”
That felt like a good place to stop. She walked back to Gabe without looking at the crowd. She didn’t need to look to hear them cheering for her. It was a pretty awesome feeling, like a reward mixed with invitation.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
VAL
From the scant television coverage of anti-Pilot rallies, Val had expected a handful of ragged old hippies. She should have known the same stations that had sold the idea of Pilots in schools would also have a stake in making the protests look feeble and pointless. Not that this didn’t feel pointless; despite the crowd outside their gates, nobody from Balkenhol looked in the least bit concerned, if they were even there on a Saturday.
If the protesters were tilting at windmills, at least there were a lot of Don Quixotes: the aforementioned ragged old hippies, but also businesspeople in suits, professor types and punks, parents and grandparents. She counted at least sixty from where she stood at the back. The group tightened toward the center, but it wasn’t a mob. Nobody mentioned plans to storm the gate or do anything other than peacefully demonstrate. That made Val relax a bit. She and Julie had argued over this one.
“Why should she protest Balkenhol?” Julie had asked. “Nobody’s making her get a Pilot.”
“Maybe she thinks it’s the right thing to do.”
Julie shook her head. “She doesn’t care about a cause. She’s going because she has a cool new friend she wants to impress.”
“Is that true? And even if it is, maybe she should have the experience? Just because we’ve never been the marching type doesn’t mean she isn’t.”
“What about David? Is it right for her to be protesting the company that makes a device that’s keeping him safe?”
“False argument, Jules. This protest won’t put him in any more danger than he’s already in. Don’t you dare use that on her.”
“Sorry.” Julie sighed. “I thought we’d agree on this one. I don’t get why you want her to go to an event with that much excitement. I don’t even like it when she does that weird thing where she sits on the street corner on her own before coming into the house.”
“She wants a little freedom.” If that was how Sophie tested her limits, Val was all for it.
“Okay, fine. I just don’t think picketing Balkenhol for some silly movement is the freedom she’s looking for.”
“Silly movement?”
“You know what I mean. Ineffectual.”
“Just because it’s ineffectual doesn’t mean it’s silly. They’re fighting for something they believe in.”
“No. They’re fighting against something they don’t believe in. There’s a difference. It’s a perfectly good technology.”
“And kids like Sophie are getting left behind.”
“Should they stop making them, then? Hold everyone back?”
“Not hold back—anyway,
