Collapse
Page 8
‘And after that?’
‘Should you or I decide — at any point during your probation — that this is not a future for you, then that’s what it is. You can work at the local composting facility if you choose to do so. However, should I approve of a full apprenticeship, you’ll leave home and you’ll never return. Any contact with your parents and your friends will be strictly forbidden.’
Okay, so the man knows I’m desperate, wherever he got that information from. But people tend to provide everything and anything if you tell them you’re a Sequencer. My parents will practically throw me into his arms without asking a single question. ‘Where will I go?’
‘I’ll only ever talk about what happens after the probation, when you’ve met my expectations and those of others.’
Of course. How stupid of me to ask. ‘Why me? Have you seen my final grades? Or any of my grades?’ Have you seen how bony I am? Aren’t the other girls prettier?
‘No, I have not seen them. Grades are irrelevant.’
I can’t bite back the snort. It comes spurting out together with an avalanche of acidic words. ‘I don’t believe you! You can be anyone. Some guy who steals girls from her parents and does things to them. I’ve never seen anyone with a skin that colour. Where do you come from? What’s the name of our Sequencer? The one who usually visits?’
‘Cacho,’ he says without hesitation. ‘He suggested you.’
‘Impossible.’ He must have found Cacho, pressed information from him, and killed him. There’s no other explanation.
The man leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. ‘Well, we can’t ask him now, can we? I suggest you make up your mind in the next ten seconds, because I need to sleep off my headache.’
I tap my fingers against the tabletop. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. ‘I have nothing to lose,’ I say. ‘You seem to know this. So I guess you win.’
‘Is that a yes?’
‘Sure.’ Yeah, sure. Whatever. You have no idea what my plans are for tonight, idiot.
He flicks an eyebrow up; it goes hiding under the bandage. ‘You believe I abduct girls because my skin is darker than what you think is normal. Funny. I doubt you’ve ever seen anyone with skin as pale and as dotted as yours. Not to speak of your hair — orange, of all colours. Do you abduct boys?’ He pushes from the table and says loud enough for my parents to hear, ‘I assume you heard what your daughter said.’
‘How is it called? The colour of your skin,’ I ask, pointing at his face.
‘Olive.’
I knew it! Flavours of coffee and cream spread between my sinuses and my palate.
The kitchen door opens. Mother and Father look shocked and puzzled. They probably can’t explain why a Sequencer picked me over a whole village of non-idiots. Yet, they seem to believe this is really happening.
‘Tomorrow morning, six o’clock, at the upper turbine,’ he says when he walks through the corridor.
Weird. I’d expected he’d take me away at once.
‘Should we accompany her?’ my father asks, his voice unnaturally high.
‘She comes alone.’ He steps out, looks up at the night sky, and says, ‘It smells like rain.’ Then he turns away and the darkness swallows him whole.
Of course I’m to come alone. The door closes and I turn to my parents. ‘Did he show you proof of his identity?’
‘You didn’t show the man any respect!’ barks my father. ‘If you screw this up…’ He brings his face close to mine. ‘…you’ll be disinherited.’
There’s nothing I want from my father. I turn away from him and see Mother opening her mouth. I’m not in the mood for her good advice. Before she can say a peep, I mutter, ‘Need to sleep. Have to get up early.’
Or never.
Desperate for solitude, I push past the two, knees weak, arms shivering.
I roll up in my blanket, cocooning myself in, compressing myself as much as possible, trying to squeeze out the confusion and leave only clarity behind. It doesn’t work, of course. Hope sneaks in uninvited.
Get 1/2986 here
I’d love to hear from you!
Join the conversation
and receive free books,
chat with me, and be the first to know about
new releases, giveaways, and bonus scenes.
www.anneliewendeberg.com
Facebook
Instagram
Twitter
Pinterest
Tumblr
— Acknowledgements —
Hugs to my editors Nancy DeMarco and Tom Welch for fixing my weird prose, to Wayne Love from Microwave Research Inc. for explaining Malus’s Law to me, and Chris Allar from Crystal Dragon Studios and Rich Lovin for the fun discussions on coding, eavesdropping, co-occurence analyses, hacking, and cyber security.
Much love to Magnus, who always gets the shitty first drafts and makes them better.
And many thanks to Wenka von Mikulicz and Detlev Buck — without whom this thing would have never happened, and Noah Jones and Catharina Junk for valuable input on how to develop it further.
And a very loud HORRAY! to my lovely Patreon patrons!