by Greg Dragon
No weapon, no help. My mission was to identify the traitor, and I couldn’t do that unless the guys trusted me, which meant passing this test. If Semias could do it, I could. I hesitated, then stepped up against a shop corner and leaned against the building. Sure enough, a layer of dirt attached itself to my uniform. I rubbed against the wall on all sides like an itchy cat, then nodded in satisfaction. “All right, I’m ready.”
“Good luck.”
It wasn’t long before I stood on the first floor of a high-occupancy apartment building, trying to decide where to start. I chose a random door—plastic, covered in dark fingerprints, and much too thin to provide its owners any sense of security. Everything was the same gray color. I felt an overwhelming urge to find a rag and start scrubbing like a crazy person.
Instead, I tapped on the door, trying to look hunched over and miserable. There was no answer. A mixture of disappointment and relief flooded through my body as I moved on to the next door. No answer. If nobody opened up for me, would I fail the initiation? Or would I just have to do this again another day?
At the sixth door, an eye almost completely covered with mousy gray hair appeared at waist level. “What?” a tiny voice whispered. A child.
“Uh, I—just wanted to know if you have any extra nutrition pills? I’m really hungry.”
The door opened a little wider, and I could see two eyes now. “You talk funny. Like the soldiers.” She—I assumed it was a girl—glanced at my forehead. “’Cept soldiers don’t have the red numbers. Just the green ones. Lemme ask my papa.”
The sharp crack of the door slamming made me jump.
“Treena,” Vance’s voice said over the feed. “You in?”
“Not yet,” I whispered. “Give me a minute.”
“Let me know the second you get inside.”
“I will, I will.”
“Lady,” the kid said through the door. She messed with the knob, and the door swung wide open. The girl couldn’t be more than six years old. “My papa still gots the sickness, you know? But he says you can have one of his pills. They taste gross anyway.” She held the tiny gray pill up for me to see. The material inside was coarse and cheaply made, like the ones Tali used.
Part of me wanted to take it and run away. If this kid was a smuggler, I didn’t want to know. I accepted it, rolling it over in my palm. The outside was a little slimy from her hand, but she beamed up at me with a brilliant smile.
“Thanks, cutie.” I forced a smile and started to turn away.
“Wait,” she said. She leaned forward and whispered, “I have a potato. It smells bad, and it has the white pokey things, but you can have it. I’ll go get it for you.”
The word no got caught in my throat as she dashed off again. A potato. We’d done a unit on illegal substances in school, and I knew it was some kind of root-based food. Smugglers grew a lot of them because they were easier to hide from scouting planes.
Food. This girl and her father were smugglers. Or customers, at least. A sick feeling anchored me to the spot, and I felt numb. Could I destroy a family? Could I achieve my goal at the expense of a six-year-old kid? Did I have it in me to send an innocent child to the work camps so I could have my Rating changed? Was it right to take my happiness from someone else?
I suddenly felt nauseated, and I swallowed hard. Of course it was right. I hadn’t written the law—I was just enforcing it. It wasn’t like she’d be harmed, exactly. Just sent elsewhere. Surely the work camps weren’t much worse than living in the Red District.
The girl returned, hands cupped around something small and brown. Her face radiated excitement. “I like it because the white pokeys look sharp, but they’re not. See? It doesn’t even hurt.”
“You can’t give this to me.”
“Yes, I can. Papa said I could use it how I wanted, so you can have it.” She thrust it into my hand and pulled away.
Smugglers were supposed to be evil-looking Integrants, violent and greedy men with scars and tattoos. Not little girls. I slipped the potato into my pocket. “Thank you. You’d better get back to your dad now.”
Footsteps echoed up the stairs behind me, and I turned in surprise. Neb, Ross, Daymond, and Semias appeared out of the dim light and headed toward us. My heart sank into my toes.
“Vance said you needed backup,” Daymond said.
“Your first door, huh?” Neb said. “Not bad.”
Before I could speak, they leaped past me and through the doorway.
“Look out! There’s a—”
It was too late. The shock on the girl’s face turned into horror as the guys nearly ran her over. She hit the wall and fell to the ground. The EPIC guys just stomped past her, weapons up and ready.
“Are you okay?” I reached out to help her, but she stiffened and slapped my hand away. “Don’t touch me. You’re a soldier!”
“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled.
Shouts from deeper inside the apartment told me her father had been discovered. Within seconds, a pale-faced, skinny-figured man was shoved into the hallway, his arms already fastened behind him. He wore a wrinkled, worn uniform that desperately needed washing. “We haven’t done anything wrong,” he insisted, his voice weak. “I have no food here.”
“Daddy,” the girl exclaimed. “I gave her the potato. I didn’t know!”
He glanced at me, and his face went dark.
Suddenly there was a shrill cry from a back room, and then another nearly identical cry. The father groaned. As Neb went in to investigate, the little girl ran to her dad and wrapped herself tightly around his leg. “Daddy, why did they tie your arms again? Daddy, hold me.”
“Twins!” Neb exclaimed, and came out holding two screaming babies wrapped in tattered blankets. One was flailing, and he struggled not to drop it. I started forward to help him.
Semias, who held the father’s elbow, shoved the little girl aside, and she stumbled to the floor. “Someone tie this kid up, will you?”
“Leave my daughters alone,” the father snapped. “They’re innocent. They can stay with a neighbor while I’m gone.”
“You aren’t coming back,” Semias said. “Possession of an illegal substance is punishable with a one-way trip to the work camps. Your kids will be fostered out.”
The father growled and lunged for Semias.
Semias was ready. He stepped aside and shoved the man sideways, slamming him roughly into the wall. With a grunt, the man fell to one knee and struggled to right himself. Before he could blink, Semias had his stunner pointed it at the man’s face. The sickly man breathed hard as the two stared each other down. Their Ratings were only twenty points apart, I noticed.
“Welcome to NORA,” Semias whispered and pulled the trigger. I gasped. The little girl screamed as her father crumpled to the floor. The twins’ wailing rivaled hers in volume and intensity.
Daymond groaned. “Was that necessary, Semias? Now we have to carry the guy.”
I gaped at them in disbelief. I’d never seen someone get stunned before. Semias knelt down and grabbed the girl’s shoulders, wrestling her arms together to bind them. Her sobs had turned into hysterical shrieking.
“Nice try,” Daymond said. “You’re taking the old man. You shoot ’em, you carry ’em. I’ll take the girl.”
Semias grumbled, but he backed away.
“Treena, come get a baby,” Neb said.
I shuddered, stepping over the unconscious man, and took the more upset of the two babies. Her cheeks were wet with tears as she gasped for breath between screams. Pure terror reflected in her dark eyes. I pulled the hole-filled blanket up to cover her again.
“Four at once,” Ross said. “You hold the record now, Treena. Not bad for your first time.”
“Shh,” I told the baby and pulled her close, bouncing to give her some measure of comfort, to stop the crying. “It’ll be okay.”
But the truth was, for this family, things would never be okay again.
><><><><><><
“You sent them in, didn’t y
ou?”
Vance didn’t respond. We watched as the captured family’s transport disappeared into the late-afternoon traffic. The father had been deemed dangerous, which required two monitors to escort them as well as the driver. I was relieved that someone else was taking them to their fate; but I’d almost rather have chosen that above walking home next to Vance.
Something very close to rage surged through my veins. “It wasn’t necessary. I had it all under control.”
He met my gaze. “Under control. That’s what you call it?”
“How do you know I wasn’t playing along? Maybe I was just biding my time.”
“But you weren’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“It’s not what you expected, is it? You thought you’d be catching the bad guys, when really, you are the bad guy. And you couldn’t handle that realization.”
My mouth dropped open a little. “Well, technically we’re enforcing the law. That doesn’t make us bad.”
“Technically. But you’re missing the point. There’s one rule in EPIC, Treena, above all else. Until you believe it, you won’t survive here. The law comes before the people—before Integrants, before smugglers, and even before EPIC. We fulfill the job no matter what. That’s the lesson you’re supposed to learn here.”
My anger surged, then exploded. “Don’t you dare lecture me about following the rules. I’ve obeyed every stupid law that’s ever been written. I spent my entire life following orders and pleasing people, believing that if I did my life would be perfect. Look where that got me!”
He gave me a long look. “Whatever happened in your past, this is the time to be very careful. You think you’re safer here, unwatched? You really think the empress would allow a bunch of reds and yellows to roam the country without very close supervision?”
“Just two reds.”
He let out a frustrated breath. “Some of my guys have died, Treena. This life is dangerous. We had to send you in unarmed for initiation, but I’ll issue you a weapon as soon as you’re trained. Smugglers won’t hesitate to kill you if it means their freedom. Add that to the fact that most of the nation hates us, and you’ll see why it’s so important to follow orders exactly.” He started to turn, then paused. “Oh, and by the way, you’ll want to dispose of that potato before we get back.”
“She was just a little girl,” I whispered. “I couldn’t trade her happiness for mine.”
Vance’s expression hardened. “You’ll get over that soon enough. Time to head for the bunker. Try to keep up.”
With that, he turned and jogged away.
><><><><><><><
Major Murphy, the stern-faced man who had met me at the train station, had told me about the bunker. But I hadn’t expected it to be an actual bomb shelter far beneath the Council Building. Had the guys chosen this place, or was it all NORA could offer them? Was it intended to protect EPIC from the world, or was it the other way around?
We must have descended a dozen staircases before we reached the bottom. My ears felt fuzzy as the stairwell grew darker and the air became heavy and cool. It was hard to believe that we were only a few kilometers away from the empress’s palace and the famous square where Peak had first delivered the Standards. This felt like an entirely different world. At the very bottom was a dirty concrete wall and a single door. With a shove, Vance flung the door open and held it for me.
The front room wasn’t what I had expected. There was no furniture at all, and workout equipment lined the walls. A thick, rectangular training pad sat in the middle of the floor. The stale air smelled like sweat and urine.
On the wall closest to the door was a shelf full of stunners. Helmets and gear had been shoved haphazardly into the bins below, and a combat boot lay on its side on the floor.
“The bedroom is down the hall, and the washroom is to the left.” Vance still held the door for me, and I realized that I was standing there like an idiot.
“Lovely,” I muttered and stepped inside. “Home sweet home.”
“You’ll get used to it.” He closed the door, pushed on it, and slid some kind of metal device closed. It snapped with a click.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“A dead bolt,” he said. “It’s not exactly NORA approved.”
“A lock? But why?”
“I don’t trust NORA’s locking system.”
There was a slight hesitation in his words, which made me realize that it wasn’t the locking system he didn’t trust. What kind of guy led a group of misfits, arrested children in the name of the law, and locked himself underground? A part of me—a very small part—was intrigued. There was distant laughter from the other room, and I remembered that there was a whole other team I had yet to meet. More stares and more doubts.
“Wait,” I said before he could walk away. “Do you think I can do this?”
Vance hesitated. That was all I needed to know. So much for a good first day in EPIC.
“Training starts tomorrow,” he said. “You’d better get some rest.”
11
I slammed the screen closed in frustration. My techband’s error message displayed no matter who I tried to call. Either we were too far underground to receive a network signal or I wasn’t allowed to contact anyone. Something told me it was the latter.
The guys were still using the washroom. I sat on the dirty floor in the hallway next to the bedroom door, my knees propped up casually. After initiation, what was one more dirt stain? Besides, soon I’d receive a black uniform instead. As far as the guys knew, I’d passed with flying colors. Vance hadn’t told a single person about my failure, which both relieved and bothered me. If he thought I owed him anything, he was flat-out wrong.
I sighed and clicked the screen open again. While on the train, I’d gotten one last note from my mother. It was a text message, not a real recording, but better than nothing. I scanned the list and found it again.
As you asked, I told your friends you got a second chance. They’re excited for you. Dresden is going to the academy, Broadcast Division. He says to tell you good luck and he hopes to see you there soon. Taliyah’s assignment is laundry for the military. She leaves tomorrow and says to keep fighting for what you want. Your father and I wish you the best. Mom.
P.S. I sure hope you’re doing this for yourself and not for Dresden.
Dresden’s assignment wasn’t a surprise. He was probably packing right now, getting ready to board the morning train. At least we’d be in the same city, even if I couldn’t contact him. There was a heavy ache in my chest. He was moving on without me. And I was sleeping in a washroom, arresting children and searching for a spy.
And then there was Tali. Laundry wasn’t the most glamorous of jobs, but she’d always wanted to get out of Olympus. It was a change of scenery, at the very least. If only I could have said good-bye.
Laughter floated down the hallway from the bedroom. I got on hands and knees and snuck a peek—if they weren’t dressed by now, it wasn’t my fault—just in time to see Ross stepping out of the washroom with a towel around his waist. I pulled back, my cheeks burning.
Team One had been nice enough during introductions, but now the guys basically pretended I wasn’t there. I didn’t complain about that. In a way, I imagined myself being pretty comfortable here. At least everyone seemed to see each other at the same level despite the hundreds of points that varied between them. It was almost like Ratings didn’t even matter.
Minutes later, Vance peeked his head around the corner and nodded. His dark hair was combed neatly back, and he wore a gray T-shirt. The old-fashioned soap smell that always followed him was stronger now.
“It’s all yours.” He handed me a folded black uniform. “Hope you find it clean enough to suit you.”
I shot him a look and stood, trying not to notice how his T-shirt accented his rock-hard chest. A few steps through a noisy room full of laughing, half-dressed men, and I entered my new “bedroom.” The mirrors were still misted with steam.
A blanket and pillow—both off-white, and both well used—sat by the door. That was the extent of my bedding for the next two weeks.
“Lovely,” I muttered and went back out to the bedroom. I swiped the pillows off the two nearest beds and strode back into the washroom. If I had to sleep in here, at least I’d be relatively comfortable.
I decided to camp out under the sanitation sinks jutting out from the wall. It had a clear view of the door, and the floor wasn’t wet there. I slid the door closed and shoved the lock into place before settling down on the hard tile.
Now, if only I could do something about the smell. Stuffing the pillows under my body and the clean one under my head, I pulled the blanket over my shoulders. The blanket smelled. Didn’t they sanitize their fabrics down here?
Night had fallen long ago, but the guys didn’t quiet down a bit. They were discussing the day’s events, and occasionally the sound of arguing floated through the door. I strained to hear and caught a word here and there: Mission. Frenzy. Rating Day. Council.
The word council made me think of Konnor. His plan to unseat the current councilor of integration made me uneasy. If by some miracle he did get the position in the next few days, my parents would have to move here. He’d be working in the very building above us. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It would be nice to see my mom again—I didn’t like leaving on such uncertain terms—but it was nice to be out of the house, even if it was . . . this.
I hope you’re doing it for yourself and not for Dresden, Lanah had said. Was she really more worried about my motives than my safety? Wouldn’t most mothers have said, “Be careful,” or “I love you” at that point, and not lectured about a boyfriend?
And why not do it for him? I’d had a huge crush on him for years. I’d tutored him into the top ten for academic scores, and he’d trained me to become a pretty decent khel player before we finally hooked up. Together we made up a perfect person.
My fingers found their way up to my forehead again, and I jerked them away. Who are you kidding? Dresden is a perfect person without you.
