Unequal

by B. E. Sanderson

  Rue blinked her eyes several times and then squeezed them shut tight. When she opened them again, the scene hadn’t changed. Except, all three of them actually appeared friendly at the moment. She fought taking a glance back at her captor, but she lost the battle. Sure enough, he was smiling as if the whole thing had been a joke. It was nearly enough to make her believe her wits had left her.

  “You have a strange way of showing it.” They seemed courteous and welcoming. She wanted to see how they would react to being actively challenged. “Your goons killed a woman like me back at the hospital.”

  The woman clicked her tongue against a set of horsey teeth. “A regrettable act. We don’t advocate killing those who are useful to us. But you must admit she wasn’t like you at all.” She shuffled a couple of papers and picked one up for closer inspection. “She was past her prime.”

  Rue wanted to weep. Hubert had been the first person in years who made her feel loved and mothered again. “She wasn’t useful anymore, so you had her killed?”

  A sharp gasp came from the cowlick man. “No. No. She didn’t mean to imply any such thing. Our agents were instructed to bring you both in, but obviously a woman of your age and skills is far more valuable than a woman who has already seen more years than most.”

  Rue’s tongue burned, and she couldn’t stay silent. “And I’ve got plenty of years left. For what?”

  The rotund man shook his head. “I believe what my colleague was trying to say is you are of value to us. You’re a better doctor than most of the people who were chosen and are paid to be doctors. Why after a simple glance at your file, I noticed you’ve managed to save more lives than all the doctors assigned to your workplace.” He clasped his hands over his ample belly. “We need you to continue working, but for the DOE instead of against it.”

  “I never worked against—”

  The horsey woman snapped her fingers. “Please cease this splitting of hairs. You were acting in direct conflict with the Equalization laws and therefore, working against the DOE. You will do for us what you’ve been doing for the general public.”

  “And if I don’t choose to?”

  “You will choose to, or you will join your uncle.”

  Rue couldn’t hide the surprise on her face. Although why anything should shock her anymore she couldn’t guess. She never considered the possibility the DOE would remember Howard, but one look into the woman’s eyes and Rue understood every instant of her life had been recorded somewhere.

  Uncle Howard. The one person who taught her to be more than anyone expected. The one who loved her for what she was. “What did you do with him?”

  The rotund man’s lips spread into a grin, giving him childish dimples and turning his face into a caricature. Once more, hysteria burbled inside Rue. She tamped it and her horror down.

  “Do we really need to tell you?” he said.

  Every word made his chins wobble and caused a strange bark to escape her lips.

  “I’m sick of this.” The edges of cowlick man’s mouth curled in an attempt to look stern, but he only managed to achieve pouty. “You will work for the DOE, or you will join the rest of the Unequal. Make your choice.”

  I must’ve hit my head. I’ve hit my head, and I’m delirious. This can’t be happening. I’ll wake up in the hospital with a lump, and they’ll stuff me back into my janitor’s closet. Please… Please, let me wake up.

  “Choose.” Horsey’s voice came out more a neigh than actual speech.

  “Choose,” Cowlick mooed.

  She locked her jaws, waiting for Rotund to oink. He didn’t make a sound, despite his lips were moving. None of them made another sound. The lights went out. As the back of Rue’s head hit the floor, she wondered whether she’d make as big a stain as Hubert.

  SEVEN

  Whoever had carried her back to her cell had dumped her face down and the stench of the stiff mattress woke Rue as if someone had passed smelling salts under her nose. She lifted her head a fraction and experienced a sense of déjà vu. Other than being face down, this was the same scenario she’d awaken to earlier.

  Then the pain hit her and along with it came a realization. This scene wasn’t anything like earlier in the day. If it was the same day.

  The fluorescent bulb overhead flickered once but remained on, pouring a sickly, unnatural glow across the floor. She tried to remember if the lights had been on the last time she’d awakened in the dank cell. Light or not, she couldn’t sense the passage of time. For some reason, it seemed extremely important to gauge the time, as if the information would give her some measure of control.

  Turning her head to the side, she lay with her cheek pressed to the bed. The rough cloth scratched against her skin. For a moment, she screwed her eyes shut and breathed deep. The smell was horrifying. But the unwashed cloth grounded her. The odor of decay somehow reminded her she was still alive.

  Unless this was a glimpse of the purgatory she’d read about in Dante’s writings. Either they had arrived to drag her back to the bizarre trio or they were coming to act on the trio’s promise. She couldn’t muster the will to care. Between the goose egg and the confusing offer, her head hurt too much.

  “Food.” The word coincided with the metallic clang of a tray hitting concrete.

  Acid rose in the back of her throat. The scent of whatever lay on the tray was as much the culprit as her probable concussion.

  “Eat.”

  She lay there waiting for whoever he was to leave. If she could manage her stomach, she would eat later. Either way, she didn’t want some stranger watching her, especially not if she couldn’t keep the food down.

  “I can tell you’re awake. Eat something. You need your strength.”

  What for?

  “Trust me,” the voice said again.

  She might’ve detected a tinge of concern, but it was almost certainly wishful thinking. She couldn’t conceive of why her jailor would care one way or the other.

  “You need your strength.”

  The pain in her head must’ve lessened because she finally bothered to care who was in the cell with her. Whoever this man was, though, he was part of the DOE. Whether he actually cared was moot.

  “Go away,” she rasped.

  “After I see you eat something.”

  She opened one eye and reached up to brush the hair from her face. The jailor was probably around her age, with dark, brown hair cropped close to his head. He wasn’t quite as handsome as Jenner, but he was pleasant to look at.

  And what the hell do I care how he looks. He’s keeping me fed until they get their answer and then he’s off to the next Unequal.

  Pushing herself up to a sitting position, she said, “I’ll eat after you leave.”

  He was silent for a moment. When he finally opened his mouth, she was surprised by his answer. “If I have your word you’ll eat, then I’ll leave you to it.”

  No one spoke in terms of someone giving their word. Promises meant next to nothing in life, and they had to mean nothing inside the walls of the DOE.

  “Who—?”

  “Eat your food. I’ll be back to pick up your tray later.” His tone was gruff but as he turned to leave, he tilted his head and gave her a wink.

  For the first time since this nightmare started, she almost dared to hope. By the time she finished the last of the stew her jailor left, she wasn’t so sure of what she saw. Maybe he winked. Maybe it was a trick of the light. The head injury hadn’t blurred her vision, but she wasn’t sure she could trust it. Not one hundred percent.

  After another man came to retrieve her tray, she was certain she imagined everything—including the attraction she felt. As her eyelids began to droop, the lights overhead were shut off. The darkness was shocking after hours in glaring, artificial light. Curling her tired body against the chill, she attempted sleep.

  It wouldn’t come. The faces of the trio haunted her. She wasn’t sure she’d heard them right. The DOE didn’t offer positions to the Unequal. The whole
damn agency was designed to eradicate the menace of inequality. She could see no reason they would want someone like her.

  Unless what Jenner first told her had actually been the truth.

  The more she considered it, the more she wondered if he had told her any outright lies at all. He told her not to trust anyone, which had been true enough. He told her the DOE would leave certain Unequals in place because they were doing the jobs no one else could do. Jenner had explained to her once she came under DOE notice, he couldn’t help her.

  And she hadn’t bothered to listen. She continued on as before—not really doing anything more to attract attention, but not really doing anything less either. As evil as Jenner’s job was, he had been straight with her. Maybe if she had listened to him, she wouldn’t be in this mess.

  Maybe if she listened to his bosses, she could get herself out.

  But then you’d be helping them. They’re the reason you had to hide. They’re the reason so many incompetent people are doing jobs they don’t have the skills and training for. And finally, she had to admit the worst of it. They’re the reason you grew up alone.

  She couldn’t go to work for the people who had disappeared Uncle Howard. Her whole adolescence was spent mourning his loss and hating the injustice of it all. The DOE was also the reason why she hadn’t seen her mother in years. Being close to your parents simply was not Equal.

  Nevertheless, they were offering her a chance to do what she loved. They could provide her with the tools and the education to become a real doctor. They could provide her with the money and the means to rise above the slap-together medicine she’d been forced to practice. They might allow her to save the ones who most needed saving.

  Indecision swirled through Rue’s head like bloodied water down the drain. If a group of Unequals really existed out there, they needed her far more than the DOE. They could be doing some real work out among the people who needed her most. Lying there in the dark, she imagined the things she could do if she was truly free.

  Lost in her musings, the snick of the door lock nearly escaped her. The door opened, but she couldn’t see it. The hallway lights must’ve been turned off. Her heart sped up. This could be help, but it was more probable her visitor came from the trio wanting an answer. They wouldn’t appreciate her decision. And then it would be the end. Of everything.

  “Did you eat?”

  Recognizing the voice from before, Rue’s tension eased. She nodded and then realized he couldn’t see her any better than she could see him. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Good.”

  As her eyes adjusted to the faint illumination of the window bank, she made out his shape. He had moved to inside the doorway. And his hands held unknown shapes. Maybe shapes brought to harm her. Shapes he would use to terminate her. She scrambled backwards on her cot until her back hit the wall.

  “We’ve got to move quickly if we’re going to do this.”

  “What?” she asked. “What are you going to do?”

  “Get you out of here before you have to make your decision.”

  Rue tried to let herself relax, but not being able to figure out what to trust didn’t make it easy. “What do you know about it?”

  His breath came out in a huff. “You ask a lot of questions. Any other day, I’d welcome them, but we don’t have time. Let’s say I have a lot of information about what goes on here and leave the rest for later. Okay?” He tossed something toward her and she automatically ducked. A pair of shoes thudded to the floor beside her. A ball, which turned out to be pair of rolled socks, followed. “Put those on and let’s move.”

  She did as the stranger asked, albeit slowly. Every motion made her head hurt. Every centimeter pulled at muscles she didn’t know she’d strained. He appeared patient through her snail’s pace. After her breath hitched in her throat after a particularly spiteful, ice-pick stab, his feet shuffled but he didn’t offer to help. Just as well. She would’ve refused anyway.

  “Ready,” she said after too many minutes.

  He held out a hand and she fought the urge to brush it away. She could be a bitch to this man who was helping her, or she could admit she needed assistance. She settled for something in between and accepted his aid without comment. His warm fingers helped more than she could’ve realized.

  Pulling her up, he wrapped an arm around her ribcage. She was close to pushing him away, but her wobbly legs wouldn’t hold her upright. Unfortunately, his touch wasn’t helping either her heartbeat or her equilibrium.

  It’s been too long. Too long since anyone touched me. Too long since having a man near me was more than a dream. Not that a man had ever touched her in more than a familial way. If she’d had the time, she wouldn’t have been able to experience the romance her books always talked about. She didn’t enjoy thinking about the mate the DOE had assigned her before she dropped off their rolls, and other assignations were forbidden. She’d never yearned for the feelings she’d read about in books. Passing amongst the Equals on any typical day was enough to quell any urges for intimacy.

  This was not a typical day.

  “Before we go,” she said, “maybe you should tell me who you are.”

  “Crispin.” He spoke the name and then eased her toward the doorway.

  “Not Citizen Jailor—”

  “I try not to use their terms if I don’t have to. Crispin will do. If you need more information, you’ll have to wait.” He eased her back against the wall. “Can you stand on your own? I have some things I have to do and this will go faster if I don’t have to worry about you falling on your face.”

  She nodded. While she gathered herself, Crispin tidied the unkempt cell. He flipped the mattress and wiped down any flat surfaces. For a moment, confusion swept over her, but she soon reasoned out the truth. The man was wiping away her existence within the cell. What good his actions would do were beyond her grasp, but she didn’t have the energy to argue. He knew what he was doing. She hoped.

  Once her presence had been erased as well as it could be, he reached up and unscrewed the room’s single light bulb. “Might give us a couple extra seconds,” he said. “After you.”

  The first step into freedom was harder than Rue expected. Crispin might be laying a trap for her—coaxing her into a false sense of security while his colleagues waited outside to attack her. As the idea occurred to her, she grasped how silly she was being and made herself move forward.

  The hallway itself was lit by the soft glow of the moon through the windows. Outside, the city was dark. To their left, a red sign pointed to freedom. She turned toward it.

  “Not that way.” Crispin grabbed her arm. He pulled the door shut behind them, then dragged a hefty collection of keys from his pocket and inserted one into the lock. After she heard a snick telling her the room was secure, she heard a sharp crack as Crispin broke the key off in its hole.

  She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “If they can’t get inside,” he said, “they can’t see inside. It won’t buy us a ton of time, but every second I can delay them will help.”

  “How much time do we have before someone comes looking for me?”

  “Unless I miss my guess, daybreak.” He nodded toward the windows. “No pink in the sky yet, so we’ve probably got a couple hours at least. But you never can tell.”

  Grasping her wrist, Crispin pulled her away from the exit and down the long, dark hallway. Without the moon, she would’ve tripped all over herself. If this had been the hospital, she could’ve navigated the whole building in pitch-blackness, but here she wasn’t even sure what floor she was on. Judging from the buildings she’d seen the day before, they had to be at least three stories up. Which meant stairs. In the dark.

  “You sure you know where you’re going?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer. They just kept moving forward, down one hall and then the next, twisting and turning until Rue wasn’t sure which direction her cell lay in. After what seemed like hours, he stopped. The vague outline of a la
rge rectangle on the wall was her single indication they were standing in front of a door.

  “In you go.”

  Rue took a step forward and then balked. He might have a complete mental map of what lay past the darkness, but she didn’t. She wasn’t sure she could trust him. Emptiness and a three-story drop could lie beyond the blackness. “You first.”

  He shrugged and pushed the door open. Beyond, soft, glowing lights illuminated a stairwell leading down into the gloom. A thin layer of dust beneath their feet showed how little this particular area was used. DOE employees would never deign to use anything but the elevators.

  “It’s filthy in here.”

  “Spoken like a true janitor.” He placed a hand on her waist and guided her. “Or a true doctor. I guess either occupation would be offended by how dirty they keep this place.” Crispin let out a soft snicker. “Hell, I’m offended and I don’t care about germs. On the other hand, if this stairwell was as clean as it should be, it would mean too many other people were using it.”

  With his soft touch on her hip, she moved down the stairs. After several minutes, her nose curled and a familiar ache attacked her sinuses. Her allergies were mounting an assault. And if the dust won, she and Crispin would both lose.

  They were no longer whispering, but a sneeze would be louder than their voices. And it would reverberate through the column of stairs, turning the area into an echo chamber. One sneeze from her would ruin everything.

  He paused and cast a glimpse back at her. “You okay?”

  She nodded and kept moving. The sooner they were free from this place, the sooner she’d be able to breathe right again. Easy enough to believe, but the stairs seemed to go on forever. His hand closed around her upper arm before she realized she’d stumbled.

  “You’re not okay, are you?”

  When she opened her mouth to speak, a soft wheeze came along with the words. “I’m fine.”

  “If by pine you mean fine, you’re lying.” Before she could protest, he scooped her into his arms. “You should’ve said something.”