by Karen Carr
I catch Demi’s red dress and see her walking arm in arm with her siblings. The Quad Squad makes their way across campus just like the rest of us. No golden chariot awaits them.
My teeth chatter as I examine the imposing stone and glass structure ahead of us. Round drum towers anchor an arched entryway. Vertical lines of glass windows cut through each one as if made by a knife. Taller towers stand at the east and west corner. Behind the main building, jostling towers of gray stone and glass fight for their position in the sky.
A wall of mist rises in front of the building in a line trailing far off to either side of the horizon. My mysterious new home mesmerizes me. I decide to call it a castle. I’ve seen pictures of castles before, ancient ruins from thousands of years ago no longer accessible. This mix of modern and gothic will be my home for four more weeks.
“Come on.” A small boy hails me with his hand. His voice calls me out of my trance and I realize everyone has started to jog.
I catch up to the boy and jog next to him. He must be sixteen but looks much younger. His skin is almost as white as the snow, his hair dark brown like bark. Before I can ask him his name, he dashes away. He travels with a quickness and darts in amongst us like a gazelle. Always ushering us forward. Always ushering us faster.
As we near the building, I notice a bridge of glass and steel crosses over the wall of mist. I watch the kids pause on the bridge and look over its rail and down to its floor. Their shrill tone reaches my ears through the thin air. I trudge along, carrying my totecase in my arms, in anticipation of what lies beneath. Trolls? Dragons?
I soon reach the entrance to the bridge and understand the shrieks. The bridge spans a huge gorge filled with the rising mist. I step onto the bridge, which feels sturdy under my feet, and move forward. The bridge’s floor is clear glass, enabling me to see all the way down to the bottom of the gorge. Far below me, at the bottom of the gorge, a frozen river lets out the steamy mist. The gorge travels in a straight line across the land to the horizon in each direction. There is no end or beginning to the gorge. We are entering a fortress with only one way out.
I quicken my pace and step on a patch of ice. My feet fly out from under me. Before I fall to the ground, a large and soft man catches me. He smells of smoke, the kind you would find around a campfire.
“You’re not very light on your feet,” the man says. He is shorter than I am, and older than my father.
“Thanks,” I say. The man waits around as if I am supposed to do or say something else, so I extend my hand. “I’m Aria Nova.”
“Vladimir Korchev.” The man shakes my hand. “Grace. I’ll be teaching you poise and grace.”
I laugh and then feel stupid for laughing. He is serious. He looks more like a giant snowball than a man that can teach me grace.
“You laugh now, but you will find my class most useful. Perhaps we will teach you some manners as well. Now, on with you and the others. Get.” He slaps my backside.
I run the rest of the way across the bridge, hoping I don’t trip again. I pass under an arch between the two imposing drum towers and enter an expansive rectangular courtyard surrounded by buildings. Dozens of walkways lead from the buildings to a grassy expanse the middle.
The air feels warmer here, the season more like spring than winter. Instead of snow covering the ground as it was across the gorge, flowers bloom and insects buzz in the air. For the first time since leaving the Vactrain, I notice the microdrones in the air. They are recording us even as we train to kill.
Although I expected camp to be empty except for us, the campus is teaming with kids and adults alike. Groups of two or three campers walk across the grounds in their colors, carrying various things like long sticks, athletic bags, or encased weapons. Several kids practice some form of boxing or martial arts on a section of the quad padded with thick rubber. A boy and a girl wrestle. He trips her and she falls to the tarp with a grunt. Instead of helping her up, he pounces on her and puts his arm across her throat. By the sounds she makes, I can tell he’s choking her.
“Hi Newbie.” A girl in a blue jumpsuit stands next to me while we watch the girl and boy wrestle. “She’s not using her legs. Don’t forget to use every part of your body in a fight. Especially your legs, your most powerful weapon.” She stretches and runs off in the other direction, shouting out, “Good luck,” before she gets too far away.
I follow everyone else across the grounds to a large structure shaped like an hourglass supported by multiple silver columns. Inside the bottom-half of the hourglass is a mirrored dome. Two steel spiraling ramps traverse the inside of the hourglass, ending at the flat top. A garden in a caged structure grows on top of the roof.
Upon entering the building, I end up in a line that has formed in front of a counter. A woman behind it takes our bags and gives us a ticket in return. I follow the line of kids to the entrance of the auditorium, our path lined with exhibits showing the history of camp.
The ceiling arches in smaller crescents of light toward the stage, framing it much like a window. A mass of gold, red velvet and rich wood combine with a façade of pipes to the rear of the stage. Semi-circle shelves of tan seating divided by belts of red slant toward the stage. The material has an intimacy about it as if we are meant to feel safe here. Cautious but adrenaline fueled voices echo back and forth, as kids fill in to find their friends. Figures lurk in curtained balconies high above us.
I look through the crowd of faces, hoping to see someone I know. Finally, I see Vanessa, the girl from my school who shares my birthday. Vanessa waves and points to a seat right next to her. Her usual outfit of jeans and a tee shirt has been replaced by an expensive turquoise dress. I make my way over to her, wading through elbows and feet of the kids already seated. We always seem to end up next to each other at assemblies, collaborating in science class, and taking the MagLev home together. I consider her a friend, even though we rarely do things outside of school.
I take the spot next to her. Sitting next to Vanessa is a boy from school who was born a few days before us. I’ve never spoken to him, but I greet him like a friend anyway. We are all in this together.
“Can you believe my parents splurged on this dress?” Vanessa smooths out the velvety fabric. “It seems so silly since we have to wear uniforms for the whole four weeks.”
“Let me guess, turquoise token?” Vanessa nods. I show her my bracelet. “Me too.”
She squeals and hugs me. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am. We’ll be in the same group. Can you believe Mateo’s a turquoise, too?”
Mateo holds up a leather satchel attached to his pants with a chain. “We’re thinking about going out together. Maybe a duel. You know, so we don’t have to kill anyone else.”
“He’s kidding,” Vanessa says when she sees the look on my face.
“It’s not a bad idea,” I say. “I don’t want to kill anyone who isn’t fully committed to dying.”
Vanessa and Mateo exchange glances. “Oh grief, Aria. We are not committed. Don’t get any ideas.”
For a moment, I don’t understand. Ideas about what? Then it hits me. That’s how life goes here. We are all trying to find the perfect victim, the one who doesn’t mind if we kill them. An impossible task. Sometimes, for brief seconds, I think I wouldn’t mind dying. Kill me so that I don’t have to kill you. I can’t give up. I can’t let go of my life, not with all it has to offer.
“Did you know that we’re related?” Mateo asks, bringing me out of my trance. By the way he looks at me, he’s probably repeated himself several times already.
“How are we related?” I ask.
“Somewhere down the line on your dad’s side,” Mateo says. “He told us in music class. He’s cool. Everyone likes him.”
“I like him, too,” I say. I miss him. I reach into my pocket to feel the flute.
Vanessa and Mateo continue to talk about all sorts of stuff. Guys they both like, tests they failed, the snow. Vanessa and Mateo’s chatter is reassuring. It makes me
feel like we are sitting at an ordinary assembly, and not one to begin our training to kill. I ease into my seat and survey the large auditorium.
A platform has been setup in the middle of the stage and rings of color matching the tokens surround it in an arc. It reminds me of a circus and I half-expect the Regulators to come out in a clown car or on top of elephants and prancing horses. The last elephant died several years ago, so my vision is impossible. I’ll have to settle for a clown car.
My parents enjoyed taking us out all the time when we were young. We would sit in a row in an auditorium like this one and watch the acrobats and clowns. Back then, giraffes, lions, tigers, bears, and elephants were all part of the show. Crowds were enormous, with kids and adults sitting side-by-side, cheering on the acrobats and screeching at the antics of the clowns.
Then, only sapphire and emerald tokens were issued, so we didn’t live in fear of death. Teenagers could sit next to their parents. The elders stayed home, aware of being potential targets. Some of them even moved to separate villages, or went into hiding. Most of us enjoyed living together in a community without fear.
Slowly, as the animals became extinct. At the same time, the token range changed, finally including all ages. People became too scared to go out. The number of circus performers, both human and animal, dwindled. Fewer people attended. That’s why they established the safe zones like the office buildings near the post office. Kids with tokens aren’t supposed to go there, except under strict supervision.
I spot the quads sitting at the far corner of the auditorium. All four of them huddle in deep and secretive conversation. With Demi, Vanessa, and Mateo all in my group, I begin to feel like I can get through these next four weeks. My eyes cross over the crowd, and stop at the mean boy’s face. He is glaring at me. So much for getting through training camp unscathed.
The auditorium goes dark and then a beam of light projects onto the domed ceiling.
“Are we going to watch a movie?” someone whispers.
A giant tidal wave appears on the ceiling doubling as a movie screen. I know the wave is fake, but I push back in my seat expecting to get wet. Some kids scream as the wave descends the dome in three dimensions. As the water descends, it leaves behind a starry night sky.
The history of our world flashes before us in vivid destruction. Droughts and famines leave starving and thirsty people across the country. Blazing fires, people screaming as they perish in the fames, viruses that wipe out entire populations. Our history is gruesome and deadly.
Clarkhaven House rises out of the flames as a symbol of hope. The film depicts the new way of life, immortality, and the advancement of science as revolutionary. Our new home, Greenland, appears on the screen as an animation. Dozens of animated people multiply exponentially. Soon, little heads symbolizing people cover our new home. The population explodes and throws the country into starvation. History repeats itself. Greenland sinks into the ocean with the weight of all the people.
Suddenly, the screen goes dark. One by one, surrounded by a circle of light, each token appears on screen. Ruby. Garnet. Turquoise. Opal. Pearl. Sapphire. Emerald. Cheers erupt from the crowd with each token. The most noise comes from turquoise, the least from ruby. Nobody wants to admit to being a baby killer.
An amethyst circle appears and then vanishes in a second. My gut tells me my token should have been in the middle of that circle and that someone edited it out. Amethyst tokens must be an important part of our history. They exist for a reason. If only I knew the reason, my choice would become clear.
When the lights go up, the four Regulators stand before us all in deeply rich robes. Amethyst Robes. Why hadn’t I noticed before? Each Regulator represents a region. Regulator Azarian represents the north, Regulator Krish the south, Regulator Thorn the east and Regulator Halsted the west. Some of the kids stand; others cheer and clap from their seats, but most remain seated in silence.
Chapter Nine
Each one of the four Regulators comes forward to address us, one for each region, north, south, east, and west. With the acoustics, the Regulators sound closer than they look, bringing a menacing tone to their words. Their speeches are boring, filled with flowery words and reassuring promises. Kill to live. A life for a life.
A man steps forward and introduces himself as Regulator Azarian. Demi’s father. His eyes are kind and his tone humble. He actually apologizes for us having to be here. I can see it in his eyes. He hates this process as much as we do. Next, a tall woman with dark skin and short curly hair steps forward. Regulator Thorn, our region’s representative. I can’t help but feel excited about her forthcoming speech.
Vanessa, next to me, grabs my hand and squeezes it tight.
“It’s her,” Vanessa says. “She’s so close. Like she’s sitting next to us.”
“She’d never sit next to you,” Mateo says.
Regulator Thorn speaks of a time I remember, when it rained for eight straight weeks. She tells us of a time when she was a child and the same thing happened. Except, after the rains came sickness and disease. She describes events that took place hundreds of years ago, stories passed down through the generations.
“Four times, I almost died.” Regulator Thorn holds up her fingers for emphasis. “Four times my ravished tissue regrew. We all survived. In my lifetime, we have beaten everything. Only one disease can kill us. That is starvation. We must fight the enemy starvation here today. Be good students. Learn the rules. We are here to protect. We are here to serve. You.”
Regulator Thorn bows deeply so that we all feel as if she truly is here to serve us. She bows again to an outbreak of applause and takes her place back with the other Regulators. I am proud to be represented by such a popular Regulator.
Finally, Regulator Halsted steps forward. I recognize him from his picture. His gaunt cheeks, his small eyes, his bushy dark hair. Long thin fingers with bulbous joints. He looks as if he grew from the roots of a tree and crawled out from under it.
“Today is a great day for us.” Regulator Halsted places his hands on his heart. “And a great day for you.” He opens his hands wide to encompass all of us. I don’t think it’s a great day, but I’ll go with it.
“Today we have chosen a new way to usher you in to your training.” Regulator Halsted waves his hands forward. An old woman walks onto the stage. I recognize her as one of the women at the post office, the one behind the glass window. My body stiffens as I try to guess why she is here.
“Today Ernestas Velasquez has volunteered to show you how it’s done.”
Regulator Halsted grabs Ernestas’s hand and holds it high in the air. He waits, as if we’re supposed to cheer. I look to the faces of all the kids watching him. No one shares his enthusiasm. In fact, most kids look like I feel—green with dread.
Regulator Halsted drops Ernestas hand as if he’s disgusted with us. She rubs her wrists and stands idly by his side. She looks a bit doped up, swaying and gazing around the crowd as if she can’t quite focus.
“Joaquim, come forth.” Regulator Halsted waves the young boy that was running around the crowd earlier up on the stage. “Joaquim has had his token for almost a year.” Regulator Halsted raises the token, which hangs around the boy’s neck, choking him a bit in the process. It’s an emerald.
“He’s not?” Vanessa asks.
“He is.”
Regulator Halsted is going to make us watch a termination.
The next few moments pass by in slow motion. Regulator Halsted offers Ernestas a chair, in which she sits. He then ushers Joaquim over, and says a few words to him too softly for me to hear. Joaquim places a cloth in his hand and pours some liquid on it. He then takes the cloth and covers Ernestas face with it.
Within a few moments, Ernestas stops moving and the boy starts to cry. He buries his face in Halsted’s robes, making the Regulator look very uncomfortable. The act was easy. The reaction is not.
The audience sniffles and murmurs in disbelief. We have just watched a murder. For the fi
rst time, I feel real fear. I want to get up and walk out of here. I want to run all the way home and beyond. This life isn’t for me.
Regulator Halsted, obviously annoyed at everyone’s reaction, waves his hand again. “Silence,” he says. “You are disrespecting Ernestas.”
A team comes out and whisks Ernestas’s body off the stage. Joaquim follows them on wobbly legs. I bite my lip as I hear Joaquim’s sorrowful wail as he disappears behind the stage.
Vanessa hands me a tissue and we both wipe our eyes. Mateo hides his face in his hands. His shoulders shake up and down although he makes no sound.
Next, our anthem plays and we stand. Everyone knows the words, but barely anyone sings, except Regulator Halsted whose booming voice echoes across the auditorium. The lights go dim and we stay in our seats, sniveling and wondering what to do next.
When the lights come back on, the Regulators are gone and a man wearing a multicolored poncho stands on the stage. It takes me no time to figure out that all of the colors on his poncho represent the colors of the tokens. His light brown hair is slicked back and a thin mustache resides above his lip. His plastic smile makes me dislike him immediately.
“Welcome to training camp,” he says. “My name is Mr. Frank Wassillie and I am the director of this camp. I am also your leader, your counselor, and your friend. You can call me Mr. Wassillie, but never Frank.”
A few people clap, but most of us don’t. We’re all still trying to recuperate from watching someone die.
Mr. Wassillie pumps his fists in the air. “Come on, Kids. Everyone out of your seats.” He pushes his palms to the ceiling. “Up, I say.” Some of the kids stand, and then more. Vanessa pulls me to my feet. “Hug your neighbor. Everyone needs a friend right now.”
We spend a few awkward moments hugging each other. I hug Vanessa and the girl next to me who smells like horse.
