by Dylan Steel
“Cold air?” Darren grunted.
“There’s a mixture of potent antibiotics and cleansers in the spray. Airborne distribution is most efficient. Otherwise, we’d basically never leave this wing,” she explained impatiently. The doors opened. “Now for the third floor.”
Sage didn’t even bother to look at Darren when she tightened her grip on his hand at the upward lurch this time. Watching for his reaction would only give him an infuriating sense of self-satisfaction.
They stepped out of the Transfers and began heading down a new hallway. Some of the walls on this floor were made of glass, allowing a broad view of certain rooms.
Sage sucked in her breath. She’d seen a similar room at the Institution once before. There were rows upon rows of tiny beds—infant cribs. The majority of them were empty at the moment, but there were still dozens of sleeping newborns. A handful of nurses attended to the few that were awake and crying.
“This floor and the two above us are gearing up for the busy season. Pretty soon, we’ll be absolutely slammed for a few months.” The nurse grinned. “We won’t even bother visiting floors four and five since they’re identical to this one.”
They made their way past the windowed rooms into another hallway with a series of doors.
“And of course, this is where the mothers-to-be are made comfortable until their babies arrive.” She motioned toward the doors and then pointed farther down to a bend in the hall. “And that’s where the doctors assist with the stubborn babies that take longer than six hours to arrive.” She shook her head and chuckled softly as they approached it. “Some of them just insist on doing things the hard way.”
Sage’s eyes widened at the sight of the rooms where doctors “assisted” stubborn babies. A shiny steel table sat in the middle of a room with bright overhead lights and dozens of disturbing silver instruments stored along the wall. One of the rooms must have been used recently. Another nurse stood over the central table, smearing red streaks across its surface as she sopped up the mess that had been left behind. The view made Sage’s stomach do a set of somersaults, threatening to create a new mess for the nurse to clean up.
It took much longer than she would have liked to reach the Transfers again. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the impressive size of the floor—and the whole building. And there were two more floors identical to this one. The number of babies Eprah welcomed each year was astounding, but she supposed it made sense based on how large the Institution was.
The group moved on to the sixth floor, then the seventh, then the eighth. They passed by more sparse, clinical rooms that seemed eerily similar to the ones they’d seen on the baby floor, but fortunately none of these rooms were in the process of being cleaned. There were cozy offices for emotive therapies—the nurse glossed over those with a note of disdain in her voice—and other, plainer rooms that offered reprieve for tired doctors and nurses. Apparently, many of them opted to sleep in the building between shifts rather than returning to their homes. Half of one floor was even dedicated to feeding everyone in the building, but Sage didn’t think the meals looked any more appetizing than the ones they ate at the Institution.
They stopped in the hallway outside the Transfers again. The nurse raised an eyebrow at Ms. Ashton.
“Do you all have to rush off yet? Or have you got a bit more time?”
“We’re still doing fine on time.” Ms. Ashton pressed her lips together.
“Great! I guess you’ll get to see the basement after all,” Wendy said as she ushered them back into the Transfers. “Not many people venture down there, so you’re in for real special treat.”
The tone in her voice made Sage think she was lying. That they did not, in fact, have anything good to look forward to in the depths of the building. And as they stepped out of the Transfer, she once again found herself gripping Darren’s hand tighter than she meant to.
Since they were now underground, there were no windows to let in the sunlight. Sage was suddenly quite aware of how inadequate the overhead lighting was.
Wendy led them down the corridors and through a set of swinging double doors. She stopped in the middle of the large, open room and grinned manically at the students without saying a word.
Sage craned her neck around, taking in the sights. This room was similar to some of the other ones that had unsettled her upstairs, but here there were several tables in a long row, each with their own set of blindingly bright lights. And instead of surrounding the entire perimeter of this room, these tools were housed in several smaller, mobile carts that sat between tables. One of the walls was lined with a grid-like pattern of square steel doors, each with a palm lock on the outside.
She shivered. Underground or not, this room was unexpectedly cold.
“Does anyone know what this room is?” Wendy couldn’t contain her excitement.
Ms. Ashton sniffed. “Is this really necess—”
“Shh! I want to see if they can guess!” The nurse clasped her hands together eagerly and continued grinning at the students.
The instructor’s eyes flashed with a dangerous mixture of annoyance and anger. She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off.
“A-are there dead bodies in here?” One of the older girls spoke up hesitantly. She looked horrified.
Wendy nodded vigorously. “Yes!” she squealed. “Just through there!” She pointed at the square metal doors along the wall.
“Rox! That’s so cool!” An older boy with a goofy half-smile stepped forward. “Can we see one?”
Wendy’s eyes lit up. “Sure!” She stepped up to the square and placed her hand against it. A loud click echoed across the room.
As the nurse pulled open the door, Sage felt her head begin spinning faster. The nausea she’d been fighting back all day was no longer just a warning. It had become a countdown. She broke free of Darren’s hold easily—he must have noticed the green tint to her face—and rushed toward the exit.
Sprinting with all the speed her wobbly legs could muster, she barely managed to get clear of the swing of the double doors before her last meal made a reappearance on the floor in front of her. Unfortunately, it had done little to relieve her queasiness. Her face was twisted up in disgust as she lifted her head.
To her horror, there was a witness to what she’d just done. A young man stood a few feet away. Cool blue eyes looked out at her sympathetically from under a mess of brown hair. Judging by his attire, he was a doctor. Sage was quite sure she’d never seen him before, yet she couldn’t help but think something about him looked strangely familiar.
“Not a fan of dead bodies?” A hint of amusement was in his voice as he stroked his stubble.
She shook her head slowly, still fighting back the dizziness and reemerging nausea.
Wendy burst out the door after her, smacking headfirst into the man’s chest. “Oh! Pardon me.”
The nurse’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red as soon as she lifted her eyes up to his face. “I’m so sorry, Doctor—I didn’t mean to—I didn’t realize you were assigned here this week—if you’d like, we can—” She snapped her mouth closed to stop herself from rambling further, then turned back to the group who had followed her into the hallway. “This is Doctor B—”
He laid a hand on her shoulder, cutting her off. “They can call me Weston,” he said, smiling warmly at the group. “I’m still in training, not an official doctor yet.”
His eyes roamed the faces of the students. Sage shivered when his gaze rested on her for a moment. She hurriedly dragged the back of her hand against the edges of her mouth. The contents of her stomach were still on the ground in front of her. While the doctor and nurse might be used to such bodily function displays, the fact that her classmates all got to see it too was more than a little horrifying.
“Wendy,” the almost-doctor said, “would you mind terribly?” He nodded slightly at the wet ground in front of Sage.
A sheepish look fell over her face as she nodded. “Stay her
e. I’ll be right back,” she said to Ms. Ashton as she walked off.
“You all look like you’ve been getting into some mischief,” Weston addressed the students with an impish gleam in his eyes.
Ms. Ashton snorted her disagreement in the most refined way she possibly could.
“Do you mind if I join you?” He finished, ignoring her reaction. “I might be able to temper Wendy’s… enthusiasm.”
Their instructor raised an eyebrow. “Certainly. If you think that’s possible,” she said dubiously.
He nodded. “Is there an open drawer in there?” His eyes shifted to the room beyond the double doors.
“Not anymore.” Ms. Ashton shook her head. “Wendy closed it as soon as…” her lips curled in disgust as her gaze fell on Sage and the mess in front of her. Sage doubted it was possible for her face to turn any brighter shades of red.
“It’s closed,” Ms. Ashton reiterated firmly.
“Good.” He smiled. “There’s a staff lounge just a little ways down. Third door on the right. You can’t miss it. Why don’t you take the rest of the group down there for the moment until we get this cleaned up? I’ll stay with—” he looked at Sage expectantly.
“Sage,” she mumbled.
“Sage,” he repeated. “And we’ll come join you in just a little bit.”
Ms. Ashton nodded and gestured for the students to follow. She looked relieved to have avoided clean up duty.
Once the others had left, Weston turned to Sage. “I take it you’re not hoping to be assigned to the hospital when you graduate.”
She looked back at him in horror.
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure this incident will go in your file. Unless you make some convincing, drastic changes in the next few years, they wouldn’t dare place you here after today.”
Wendy reappeared moments later, pushing a cart filled with cleaning supplies.
“Glad you made it back.” He motioned for Sage to join him. “I sent the rest of the class to the lounge down the hall. Once you’ve finished cleaning this up, go ahead and join back up with them. But if we’re not back yet, wait for us before continuing your tour.” He lowered his voice to a stern whisper, almost too quiet for Sage to hear. “And from now on, I’d recommend using more discretion while leading tour groups.”
“Yes, sir,” Wendy replied shakily. She grabbed her bracelet protectively. Her face was paler than Sage remembered it being.
The doctor rested his hand on Sage’s shoulder and wordlessly guided her down the hallway past the staff lounge that he’d pointed out to her classmates. They stopped in front of a seemingly random door.
“It’s the staff locker room.” He nodded for her to enter. “You can take a minute and clean yourself up. If you need anything, I’ll be just out here.”
“Thanks,” Sage mumbled. She hurried inside, glad he hadn’t asked her to talk any more. Her mouth tasted of stomach acid and an unfortunate combination of eggs and pickles, and she couldn’t wait to rinse it clean.
She spent several minutes running the cool tap over her hands and face, swishing water in her mouth repeatedly. Luckily, the locker room was well equipped for doctors’ extended stays, and she was able to find a row of toothpaste and other toiletries stocked in dispensers along the wall. She squirted a bit of paste in her mouth at least three separate times, gargling the foam until the taste of bile was overwhelmed by a sickeningly sweet peppermint flavor.
Taking one last look at her face and clothing in the mirror, she deemed herself much more presentable than she’d been five minutes earlier. She breathed a sigh of relief and pushed open the door.
Weston looked up. “I’m sure that’s better.” He smiled. “Let’s get you back to your class.”
Wendy arrived at the staff lounge at the same time they did. If she was unhappy about having to clean up the mess, her face didn’t show it. In fact, compared to earlier, she looked downright professional now. Sage was sure Ms. Ashton would approve of her new demeanor.
As it turned out, there wasn’t much left to tour of the building. The doctor accompanied them through the rest of the basement level, pointing out the purposes of the different rooms without offering to show them any more dead bodies. They arrived at the end of a long hallway with a large set of doors similar to the ones that Sage had unceremoniously burst through earlier. Wendy hesitated, conflicted.
“It’s not another dead locker,” Weston quickly explained. “This is actually the end of the hospital. Through those doors is a set of tunnels that are interconnected throughout the city. This passage leads straight to Beautification. It simplifies things for—” he stopped abruptly and eyed Sage cautiously, as if worried she’d explode again just from hearing his words, “—it keeps most people from having to see the dead transported for disposal.”
Predictably, Sage’s stomach turned. She smashed her lips together harder and tightened her grip on Darren once again. Not surprisingly, his hold on her was a bit looser than it had been at the beginning of the excursion.
“We can make our way back to the main level now,” Wendy added.
Ms. Ashton nodded curtly. “It’s getting late.”
Not much more was said as the group made their way to the exit. Their instructor thanked Wendy and Weston quite formally and directed the students away from the hospital and back toward the Institution’s gates.
They were back inside the familiar fence within minutes, and once they’d passed through the front doors moments later, they were promptly dismissed. As they split off to go to their respective Common Lounges, Sage realized how cold the outside air had left her.
She shivered and shoved her hands in her pocket, then froze mid-step in the hall. As the only Level Eleven in Travaes, she was alone in making her way to her Common Lounge. She glanced around to be doubly sure no one was watching and pulled out a small slip of paper, unfolding it hastily.
Her eyes scanned the paper, and her jaw dropped. It was a coded note—it had to be for Mr. Walsh. She racked her brain trying to figure out how the paper had gotten in her pocket. Her brows furrowed. Someone knew she was Lawless. Nurse Wendy? Was she Lawless? She’d been standing right beside her in the Transfer. Sage doubted anyone else would have had the chance to slip the paper into her pocket without her knowledge. Still, it was an impressive sleight of hand.
Her eyes flitted back to the words scrawled on the paper.
Et Beveraedano? Paz: tressrida, tressleno.
16. PEACE
A long braid curved its way over Sage’s right shoulder. Normally, she didn’t mind braids, but wearing it in this particular style wasn’t her first choice today—though it was oddly deliberate.
After the hospital excursion, she’d shown the unexpected note to Mr. Walsh, and he’d lost a shade of color in his cheeks. He’d then made an unusual request—the braid—with no explanation other than insisting that it would somehow help the Lawless cause. She would be a silent signal to someone she’d never meet. Not only did he specify that she needed to wear her hair in a braid during her next excursion, but the braid needed to be slung over her right shoulder at all times. Seeing his reaction to the note, she wasn’t convinced she was back in his good graces yet, but at least someone thought she should carry out another mission. For now, that had to suffice.
So as she stood in front of a building she’d never wanted to visit again, she fiddled nervously with the loose ends of her hair on her right side. Lifting her eyes, she saw the gold lettering that announced they’d arrived.
Dignitary of the Peace.
When Ms. Ashton had explained that this was their next excursion, she’d found herself fighting back tears. Wounds that she’d thought had started healing had been ripped open again, leaving her raw, exposed. Dread had filled her whole being as she anticipated this visit. And based on the curious look Darren had given her in class, she’d been more obvious about it than she’d meant to be.
It was a surreal experience, walking through the front doors again. Thi
s time was a bit different than the last time—she wasn’t handcuffed and being dragged forcibly through the building like before.
She tried to suppress the panic rising in her chest. The events of that day were impossible to forget. They were burned in her memory. Part of her expected an officer to come whisk her away with some sort of horrible news. She wasn’t sure what that news could possibly be—she’d already lost her family and everything important in her past—but it didn’t matter. Logic didn’t prevail against the fear raging inside her.
Her fingers ran over the twisted locks of hair, smoothing the braid unnecessarily. Darren’s hand caught hold of hers, giving it a slight squeeze. She raised her eyes to his, catching a hint of concern on his face. Sage dropped her gaze immediately, opting instead to stare blankly at Ms. Ashton while she spoke to a man behind the front desk.
She returned with a sour look on her face. “We’ll have to wait a few minutes before our guide is ready.” She motioned for them to take a seat in the waiting area near the front of the room, then grumbled under her breath just loud enough for the few students nearest her to hear. “Throppin officers. They think Eprah revolves around them. But catch them off-duty, and it’s another story altogether.”
Sage furrowed her brow in confusion.
Darren leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Officers can’t lose Chances while they’re on duty,” he explained.
“Oh.” Her eyes widened in shock.
“For everyone’s safety.” He shrugged. “They wouldn’t be very effective if they were always worried about retaliation.”
She frowned, sinking back into her seat. The more she learned about Eprah, the more loopholes she found.
The group found themselves waiting for a solid fifteen minutes before anyone came to meet them. Ms. Ashton spent the entire time pacing the aisles between the chairs, muttering and cursing under her breath.
When a young female officer finally emerged from the back room to greet them, the instructor wasted no time with niceties.
