by Greg Dragon
I shook my head. “I can’t accept that.”
The guy made some notes on the glass screen, then stood up. I wished the screen were visible from this angle. “Your best bet is to fulfill your new assignment in a way that exceeds their expectations. That may actually get you somewhere.” He made sure the screen was powered off, then stepped around the desk. “Wish there was more I could do. Sorry.”
With that, the assistant made his way to the door and opened it for me. I had no choice but to leave. To my surprise, the guy followed me out. The door’s lock clicked behind us with chilling finality. He gave me a last look and headed down the hallway as if in a hurry to get somewhere. Sighing, I made sure my frizz securely covered my forehead once again.
Great. What now?
The assistant wasn’t the only one rushing away. The hallway was a mass of purple uniforms. Excited conversation buzzed in the air. As before, they all headed in the same direction.
Curious, I poked my head around the corner. The crowd was entering a set of double doors at the end of the hallway. Two guards stood on either side of the doors, their eyes sharp and probing.
“Excuse me,” I said, touching the elbow of a man passing near me. “What’s going on?”
The man looked surprised. “The empress’s visit, of course. Didn’t you get the network message?”
I felt my eyes widen. “I must have missed it. Thanks.” He was gone before I finished, pushing against the purple exodus that filled the hallway.
The empress? She was coming here? I’d never actually seen her in person, but every citizen knew what she looked like. I had studied her life story in history class, trying to figure out what she’d done to get the Rating that had propelled her to the throne at age eighteen.
A thrill of excitement surged through my veins as I forced an opening in the mass of people. A visit from the empress definitely explained the crowds and my Rater’s absence. He would be here somewhere, headed for the auditorium. I tried to remember what his photo had looked like, tried to hold it front and center in my mind. I wasn’t leaving this building without talking with him, empress or not.
“Ouch!” a woman cried. I had just stepped on her foot.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, but the pushing of the crowd didn’t allow me to do much else but follow. We inched our way closer, taking small steps and easing toward the double doors. The guards seemed alert, but they hadn’t stopped anyone yet. Of course, everyone else around me was a green. I pulled my hair forward again, hoping the lights were bright enough that the red glow wouldn’t shine though.
Right before stepping into the auditorium, one of the guards glanced at me. I looked away quickly, rubbing a fake headache, hoping he hadn’t looked too closely. The seats were nearly full, all facing a polished wooden platform on the stage. A dozen more guards surrounded the platform. The redness of my new Rating would be extremely noticeable when the lights dimmed so I had to be careful. I passed under a blast of cold air conditioning and shivered.
Keeping my hand up, I caught a glimpse of the Rater’s assistant slowly climbing the staircase to the left. Hoping the Rater would also be nearby, I followed, choosing a seat two rows behind him. It would only allow for a side view of the speaker, but it was the closest I could get to the front. A thrill of excitement shot through my body. I was about to see the empress in person.
Dresden will be so jealous, I thought with satisfaction.
I scanned the room for a few minutes, feeling my heart sink slowly to the floor. There were probably a thousand people in here, all greens, all blonde. It would be nearly impossible to find the Rater. A thousand people, I thought. It seemed strange. There couldn’t have been more than a couple hundred who worked in the government building. Maybe the higher officials of the area were here too. That meant my father was probably in the crowd as well. Slouching in my seat and keeping a hand over my forehead, I glanced at the rows behind me. No one looked familiar.
The guard who had watched me enter began climbing the steps on the far side, searching faces. My breathing quickened. I forced myself to sit normally as he turned and headed my direction. Twenty meters. Ten.
But before he reached our section, the lights suddenly dimmed. The guard’s outline froze and then retreated down the steps. I gave a sigh of relief.
The audience immediately quieted in anticipation. Within seconds the tribune rose to introduce the empress. When she appeared, we stood and put our fists over our hearts in respect. And then I gave a start. This woman, wearing a curvy, sequined uniform dress, looked different from the lady I’d seen in the transmissions. The face was the same, but the youthful intelligence she was famous for was replaced by irritation. She just looked . . . older. Her usual intricate braid was gone. Instead, her long blonde hair hung straight, with a few haphazard streaks of purple and silver. I knew that I was witnessing the birth of the latest appearance-points obsession.
Her hair wasn’t what had surprised me, though. It was her unnatural, highly arched eyebrows. Too many face-lifts. I chuckled to myself. Tiny embedded jewels and intricate tattoos—and the highest Rating score in the entire nation, 974—framed her forehead. She had managed to keep her position for almost seventeen years. Her score had decreased, though. It had been 976 before today.
She nodded to us, a polite smile pasted onto her painted face, and then she tilted her head gracefully. “My dears, thank you for your greeting.” The audience caught her meaning and sat down. “I have only a few minutes, so allow me to deliver my message. Then I will take a few intelligent questions.”
She stood a little taller, as if gathering her thoughts. “You’ve likely heard the rumors about food smugglers, especially in this area, for several years now. It will not surprise you to hear that most of them are Integrants. These people attack our borders, steal precious resources, and smuggle food. In the past, we’ve allowed them a second chance through integration and the reform system. But that is not the worst of it.” She paused dramatically. “Now they have repaid our kindness with an uprising within NORA’s borders.”
The shuffling sounds in the audience went silent.
“The smugglers don’t see the danger they’re perpetuating,” she continued. “Since the beginning of time, food has been the common thread in every war. Battles rampant with death and horror have been waged over its acquisition, those with food always holding the power. Food used to be the root of illness, the source of poisons and toxins, and always fostered inequality. People had too much or too little and consumed the wrong kinds, which caused their bodies to become inefficient and their lives wasteful. I will not allow our nation to crumble under the problems we’ve worked so hard to eradicate. The nutrition pill is all we need. And I certainly will not allow these miscreants to hold power over our people or overthrow our peaceful government. It is time to act, to cleanse our streets of the black market forever.” She paused for effect. “As of today, NORA is under martial law.”
There were some audible gasps, but many covered their shock with polite applause. I sat back in my seat, stunned.
The empress waited for the clapping to stop before she went on. “In the past, citizens found to be in an unscheduled location during daily techband sweeps were simply docked Rating points. It’s clear that a more effective form of remediation is necessary. Starting tomorrow, citizens caught anywhere they’re not authorized to be will receive an electric punishment from their techband.”
The crowd stirred, a low murmur sweeping the room like a shockwave. I remembered all too well pulling on my techband as a child, wondering if it would come off, and feeling a sudden electric jolt. That jolt, or punishment mode, happened anytime someone messed with their techband. As I got older, my professors had insisted that it was for our own protection. The techband held all our data—personal records, schedules, schoolwork, personal finances, and more. We scanned it to buy things and unlock doors. It was just part of life in NORA.
The empress was inflicting the tightest security measure
s NORA had ever seen. The consequence of disobedience wasn’t simply a Rating reduction. It was pain. The woman who stood before us wasn’t the humble, everyday hero I’d studied in history. A shiver spread through my body, and it wasn’t from the cold.
A flicker of movement caught my eye. It was the suspicious guard. He stood against the wall now, arms folded, waiting. He looked ready to move as soon as the lights came on.
“Some will say this policy is too strict,” the empress continued, turning toward our side of the room. Her high eyebrows made her look like a surprised deer. “Know this. Where there is division, there is unrest. Our frequent wars with the outlands are devastating enough. We cannot afford to battle amongst ourselves any longer. It is time that our children felt safe in their own streets. Once that is accomplished, we may reconsider.”
The audience was silent, everyone turning the idea over in their minds. A woman near the front stood and bowed. “Excuse me, Your Majesty. If I may . . . When will the new policy be announced to the public?”
The empress frowned. “This evening, at 1700 hours.”
Several other people stood and bowed, and the empress sighed. “Very well, you may ask a couple of quick questions.”
The standing figures started to talk over each other, but a man from the back shouted, “Does this apply to everyone? Government workers? Children?”
The empress pushed back from the platform a little, her lips pursed. “Yes. Those in the military and administrative positions will have an adapted version of the punishment, for obvious reasons.”
As the man sat, a dazed look on his face, a woman jumped up. “Your Majesty, may I ask a question?”
“Speak,” the empress ordered impatiently.
The lady looked around the room for a second, as if unsure about her question. Finally she blurted, “Is this policy in reaction to what happened to your Rating today?”
The audience froze as every eye turned to our leader. Her expression darkened as she raised an eyebrow—if that was even possible—and stared at her questioner as if considering how to squash an insect. The questioner shifted her weight nervously, then looked away.
The tribune stepped forward on the platform. “We are out of time,” he began, but the empress waved him away. She gripped both sides of the podium tightly and leaned forward. “As stated under law, I will remain your leader as long as I’m the most highly Rated individual. That does not appear to be changing anytime soon. I am most insulted by your insinuation.”
The woman jerked back as if she had been slapped. Then she slowly sat, sinking low into her chair. I knew her Rating would be affected by her outburst, even though she’d only voiced the question most of us wanted answered.
The empress stalked off the stage. We stood and saluted again, but she didn’t give us a second look. The commander cleared his throat. “The empress has been very generous to deliver this message in person. She relies on you, her most trusted and most highly Rated citizens, to ensure that her message is well received. You are dismissed.” He glared at the humiliated woman in the audience before following the empress out.
I tried to imagine the impact this announcement would have on NORA. Since Olympus shared a wall with the integration camp, it would affect us the most. An alliance between the food smugglers and the Integrants must have been threatening, indeed, to prompt such stern retaliation.
The audience began to disperse, the noise level rising as the crowd filed out the doors. I watched the crowd, looking for a round-faced man with dimples, but he was nowhere to be seen. The guard who’d been watching me stood in the middle of the doorway, a steady rock in the midst of a flowing river of people. He wasn’t about to let me get by again.
Pushing down a rising sense of panic, I turned my head and looked for another exit, but there was nothing. I started making my way down the stairs, holding my forehead again, but that must have been what the guard was looking for. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him push his way forward. I was in big trouble now. If I was arrested for sneaking in, there would be no Rating reconsideration.
With a quick glance at the platform, I noted that the empress and all her guards were long gone. That meant there was a back door somewhere. I reached the bottom of the platform and leaped up onto it. The guard picked up the pace behind me. Leaping again, I threw myself behind the curtain the empress had disappeared behind. The guard shouted something, but I couldn’t understand his muffled words.
Ahead was a dark hallway. At the end of it, light shone around the outline of a doorway. I sprinted down the hall, nearly tripping over my feet. Please be unlocked. With a mighty heave, I threw all my weight against the door. It opened more easily than expected, sending my feet stumbling forward.
Suddenly I found myself in a heap on the floor in front of a pair of silver-sequined high heels.
“Sorry,” I muttered, looking up. Several guards stood immediately in front of me, stunners aimed at my head, protecting the woman at whose feet I lay. Her two arched eyebrows stared down at me, framing eyes that registered irritation and confusion. Then her painted lips curved downward like a disapproving parent.
It was the empress.
8
My jaw dropped as I stared, horrified. Her sternness melted away as she realized my mistake, and an amused light reached her mascara-plastered eyes.
“Don’t move,” a stocky officer said, his stun gun still trained on my head.
“She’s little more than a child,” the empress said, studying me. Her manicured fingers reached out to brush my hair away from my Rating, and then I heard a sharp intake of breath. Every stun gun in the vicinity was immediately aimed at me—the center of a semicircle of unwanted attention. The empress made a tsk-tsk sound.
I heard the door open behind me, and the suspicious guard nearly bowled me over. When he saw the empress, his face went a sickly white, and he stood uncertainly, as if unsure whether to grab me or stand at attention. He chose the latter.
I felt nauseated as I raised my hands in surrender, still sitting on the ground. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—”
“Don’t talk in Her Majesty’s presence, red,” the tribune snapped.
“I haven’t seen a Rating that low since that serial killer from Alta,” the empress mused, still studying me. “And such a pretty face—proportional and intelligent. What a waste.”
“Please—” I began, and the tribune stepped forward with his arm raised to strike, but the empress put a hand up.
“Let her speak,” she commanded. “Stand up, red.”
I stood. “I didn’t mean to follow you, Your Majesty. I just came looking for my Rater, to ask for a reconsideration.” My voice wavered. It was too late to be shy now; if she had me arrested, it was over. “But now that you’re here . . .”
She gave a soft chuckle. “My dear, I don’t oversee Ratings. I’m no councilwoman.”
“I know,” I said quickly. This was my last chance. “But my Rater won’t change it, and there’s been a big mistake.”
“NORA doesn’t make mistakes, child,” she said, folding her arms. “You must have done something to deserve it.”
I thought again of my biological father and gulped. It was probably the last thing I wanted this woman to know. “My scores are nearly perfect,” I said, knowing as the words left my mouth that I’d lost the battle. The guard behind me grabbed my arms and locked them behind my back. It was over.
“Wait,” the empress said suddenly. Her eyes narrowed, and she circled me like a vulture examining its prey, her pointy shoes tapping sharply on the hard concrete. “What is your name, child?”
“Ametrine Dowell.”
A flash of recognition appeared in her eyes—or was it my imagination? Her face darkened. My wrists felt clasped together in some sort of device, which sent a painful current of electricity shooting up my arms when I moved too quickly—probably connected to my techband somehow.
“Ametrine, hmm? An unusual name.”
“My fat
her named me.”
A strange look came over her face, but she hid it quickly. “Well, Ametrine, I see a certain stubbornness in you. Perhaps that alone is the cause for your Rating. You should accept your fate with grace. It will make your life a lot easier.”
Her words should have made me more docile, but they made me angry. It couldn’t end like this. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and they were determined to make me into something I wasn’t. I looked up at the empress. My eyes met hers, steady and undefeated. I was ready. “This is wrong, and I won’t accept it.”
She looked down her nose at me for a moment, eyes flickering to the red numbers on my head. “I can see that.” We were inches away now. The tattoos on her forehead were laced with golden thread and tiny precious jewels. I didn’t know where to focus. “Well, you did get past my guards. How you did that,” she said, shooting a glare in the sheepish guard’s direction, “I can’t imagine.”
“We’ll take care of her immediately, Your Majesty,” the tribune said in a terse manner.
“No. She’s coming with me.” She waved her delicate hand. “This one is interesting to me. I’m sure we’ll find something to talk about.”
Before I knew what was happening, two guards shoved me toward the largest transport I had ever seen, its reflective, reinforced steel designed to deflect bullets and stunners alike. Despite its size, it smoothly hovered above the ground as they forced me inside, whacking my head against the doorframe before I fell onto the seat. I rebalanced myself and looked out the window. The guards stood at attention. As the empress set a dainty foot inside, I caught the last part of her whispered conversation with the tribune.
“. . . absolutely unacceptable. If I’m not safe here, then where?”
“He’ll be stripped of rank immediately.”
“No. I want him executed.”
