Unequal

by B. E. Sanderson

  “Put your weapon away.”

  “Sorry, sir, but Citizen Crispin indicated you weren’t due back tonight.” The soldier nudged the gun’s barrel first toward Bruno and then at Rue. “And who are they?”

  They’d prepared for these kinds of questions. She hoped her uncle could remember what he was supposed to say.

  Judging from the smile tickling the corners of his mouth he not only remembered, but accepted the soldier’s question as a scripted part of the game. “This is my niece,” he said. “She is the doctor I’ve been hoping for. And this man is one of her assistants.”

  The weapon lowered slightly. “He looks pretty Unequal, sir.”

  “So did you before I instructed them to bring you into the fold. Am I correct?”

  The soldier blushed and lowered his head. Whatever he did to set him apart from the Equals continued to be a source of embarrassment for him. Poor kid. “Yes, sir.”

  “And since I gave you this chance to escape the fate of your brethren, shouldn’t you return the favor by getting back to your patrol?”

  After the soldier walked away, Rue had the niggling feeling the scene had gone way better than they had discussed. She suspected somewhere in the mess of Howard’s brain, he remembered he was Citizen Equalizer Hank Winston. Or maybe he remembered who he used to be. At this point, she hoped it was the former and not the latter.

  With Winston in the lead, the trio trouped toward the bank of elevators. The stairs might have been a more silent way to approach but for this part of the mission, they didn’t want stealth. They needed to create a spectacle. They needed Crispin to come running. Preferably into a crowd of soldiers who couldn’t simply forget they saw their fearless leader.

  Everything was going according to plan. Until Winston raised a shaking hand to his temple.

  “You okay, buddy?” Bruno laid a big hand on the other man’s shoulder.

  Her uncle flinched away and turned a grim face toward her companion. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

  Rue’s heart thumped against her ribcage. “Howard? Are you still playing the game?” His earlier performance had given her pause. Her one hope was to keep him from becoming lost in the part he was playing. “Remember the game?”

  He shook his head like an angry bear in a nest of bees. For a second, she half-expected him to growl. “Game?” he said. “This isn’t a game. Is it?”

  “Sure it is, buddy. We’re playing pretend. Remember?” Bruno raised a hand to touch the man again and was rewarded with a smile. The haze over Howard’s eyes seemed to clear.

  Rue held her breath. As much as she hated her uncle being robbed of his mental faculties, she didn’t want him to return to normal now. If Winston came back into his head at this point, they weren’t merely screwed. They weren’t even on the edge of disappeared. They were dead.

  “A game?” Winston’s mouth drooped into a frown and then, as quickly, lifted into his childlike grin. He nodded. “I love games.”

  An audible whoosh sounded as the two of them exhaled at once. When the elevator opened behind them, Rue almost threw up. Her stomach clenched into knots and she thanked her luck she hadn’t eaten in who knew how long.

  Despite the silence from her companion, she was terrified to turn around. Fear taunted her with images of a space filled with soldiers called to action by the one in the tunnels. It whispered how they hadn’t been the great actors she hoped they’d be and, as soon as they’d walked away, the soldier had called in reinforcements—

  “After you,” Bruno said, drawing her attention back to the task at hand.

  Trying to get a handle on her apprehension, she turned around as though none of those thoughts had gripped her. Of course, the elevator was empty. Of course, they fooled the kid soldier. Winston’s wits might be lacking in a lot of areas, but he was one hell of an actor. She couldn’t count the number of times he had pretended to be something he wasn’t. Hell, he was the one who taught her how to blend in with the Equals. He was the one whose lessons kept her safe long after he was gone.

  And I’m the one dragging him into danger. The concept almost made her lose the fragile grip she had on her innards.

  Once upon a time, he protected her. He had deflected her father’s anger and kept her from going slowly insane. In a world designed to keep her from using her mental acuity to its fullest extent, he was the one who encouraged her. In a home where showing the slightest bit of uniqueness meant certain punishment, he let her be herself—for an hour or two in a dingy basement, but it was enough.

  “I can’t do this to him,” she whispered to Bruno. “He could get hurt.”

  “And if Crispin finds out he didn’t die, there won’t be any could about it. He won’t merely get hurt, he’ll get killed.”

  “If we leave, we could hide him. I mean, it’s not as if he’ll ever be able to hurt anyone again.” Rue’s mind raced while the person in question watched the lights change from floor to floor. “Look at him, Bruno. He’s a child. We can hide him and then find another way to stop Crispin.”

  “The time for finding another way is over, Rue.” Bruno laced his fingers with hers. His touch calmed her. “It’s now or never. We won’t get this chance again.”

  The number three was lit red. It went dark and the four glowed. One more floor and the decision would be taken out of her hands.

  “It’s too late to back away, Rue.”

  The four flicked off. Something solidified inside her. She didn’t need either the numbers or Bruno telling her it was too late. It had been too late the second she devised this obscene plan. Too late the day she decided to help these people. It had already been too late by the time the rooftop exploded and she made her promise to Max.

  The morning she sat by her uncle’s workbench as he taught her how to hide amongst the Equals made every step on this path impossible to turn away from. This night was the culmination of years.

  Her resolve hardened in those few seconds. As the door opened on the fifth floor, it also opened on a new Rue.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Rue’s steely resolve nearly broke at the first image she saw. Shiraz. The girl’s permanent glare was gone, replaced by an unpleasant smirk. Something else was wrong, though. She searched for a clue, but Bruno nailed it before her brain could.

  “What the hell happened to your face?” he blurted.

  The birthmark Shiraz took her name from—the one defining her and making her Unequal—was gone. Her skin was smooth and pale. The sheen of sweat on her cheeks, an aftereffect of either sex or excitement, proved the skin was her own and not the makeup she once used to pass as Equal.

  “Of all the things you could ask me, it figures you’d choose that. Nothing happened to my face, you moron. This is how I always look without a stupid, fake birthmark.” Shiraz leaned to one side and spoke to someone beyond the bank of elevators. “You owe me a nice dinner.”

  “Indeed I do.” The voice… It was one Rue never expected to hear again. Footsteps clicked across the tile. They stopped beside the girl and a masculine hand tucked Shiraz’s arm through the crook of his elbow. Rue’s eyes stopped there and fell toward the floor, unwilling to see. Her brain unwilling to acknowledge the identity of the man who filled those shoes.

  “Do you believe in ghosts?” asked the voice she both hated and loved.

  Disbelief dragged her gaze up to meet a pair of vibrant green eyes. “You’re dead.”

  “What you mean to say is someone wearing my clothes is dead.” Justin winked at Rue with the eye she’d seen beaten to a pulp. His bruises and cuts were gone. Any traces of the blood formerly gracing his face had disappeared, leaving perfectly smooth skin. One hand swept to encompass his perfectly healthy body. “The miracles of modern medicine have nothing on the miracle of modern stage makeup. Along with a bit of misdirection, of course.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she said.

  Bruno stepped forward, his hands clenched at his sides. Rue held him back. “Not now.” While they stood s
taring, soldiers fanned out to either side of their formerly deceased associate.

  “Not ever, my old friend.” Justin grinned at the big man. “I never thought… Actually I take it back. Many times over the years I’ve wondered if this scenario would play out, but I never wondered what your reaction would be.” He pulled Shiraz tighter to his side. “As I never doubted what side of the fight our dear Charisse would land on.”

  “No one should’ve doubted.” The girl bared her teeth in a tight smile focused on Rue. “Although some people seem to be a little short-sighted. Too much tunnel vision can do it to a person. Or is it something your text books didn’t tell you?”

  Rue’s mind swirled. “I don’t understand.”

  “He’s been behind everything.” Bruno’s voice was no more than a growl.

  “You’re giving him too much credit.” Rue saw a glimmer of the whole awful truth. “Isn’t he?”

  Justin chuckled. “Far too much credit. I wasn’t behind the DOE, and they were behind a lot of the things you’ve fought against for most of your life. But lately, I’ve gotten tired of sitting back and waiting my turn.” He winked at her. “Rue had it right from the beginning. Of course, I needed a good doctor, and you can’t have one of those without anticipating a little intelligence.”

  The girl Rue knew as Shiraz… Charisse, as Justin called her snorted. All the time she’d spent trying to reach out to a person she hoped she could help, wasted. If Shiraz had any redeemable characteristics, Rue couldn’t find them. At least the girl had never pretended to be a friend.

  Small comfort when so many things were turned upside down.

  “Did you plant the bomb on the roof?” The words were out of her mouth before she realized where her thoughts were leading.

  “Small beans,” Shiraz said. Bright eyes, burning with a zealous light, turned toward Justin. “Although Max wasn’t supposed to die.”

  “You tried to kill me?”

  Justin’s laugh echoed through the room, but no one else joined him. Dozens of soldiers stood with their eyes forward. Statues without any will of their own.

  “Why would I want to kill either of you? Max was serving a purpose by supporting every action I made. I couldn’t do a damn thing wrong as long as he was around. And you? You’re my ace in the hole.” He shook his head. “Max was supposed to be injured, not killed. You were supposed to save him.”

  “Thereby cementing my loyalty and his, I suppose?”

  “Something along those lines. Max did his job, which is pretty nifty considering he was dying. Don’t you concur?”

  “Max agreed to this?”

  “Once I convinced him there was no way you were going to help me without a little intervention. You wouldn’t resist stepping up to help in a medical emergency.”

  “And all those other people were… what?”

  “I believe they used to call it ‘collateral damage’. Don’t worry, though. They all understood joining me meant their lives might be forfeited to the cause.”

  “They were sitting down to lunch.” She ground the words between her teeth. “They had no clue their world was about to end.”

  Justin shrugged. “The vagaries of war.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, one of the soldiers twitched. Shifting her gaze, she caught the anger creasing deep lines at the edges of his mouth. She didn’t recognize the man, but she would be willing to bet her last meal he loved one of the dead.

  “And the hospital? Was the destruction there a vagary, too?” If she could get him to admit to a few other atrocities, she might encourage more of the opposing force to lean toward her side.

  Justin must’ve had the same idea because his lazy smile hardened into sneer. “Come come, Rue. Would I do something so horrific? Your uncle would be more able to blow up hundreds of Unequals than I would. Don’t you agree?”

  Behind her, Howard let out a soft whimper. He’d been so quiet she almost forgot he was back there. “I don’t want to play this game anymore, Rue,” he said. “I want to go home.”

  She wasn’t enjoying Justin’s game too much herself. If she could’ve run home—if she could’ve felt safe once she got there—she would’ve beat feet. There was no way Justin would let her leave. He had plans for her or she’d already be dead. One look in his eyes told her as much. It also told her while he needed her, he sure as hell didn’t need the men with her.

  And he wasn’t the worst of her worries.

  Justin’s suggestion her uncle was behind the explosion had the soldiers itching to mete out punishment. All those eyes filled with rage and focused on Winston.

  His whimper turned into full-fledged sobbing. “Why are those guys mad at me? I didn’t do anything. I was only playing.”

  A collective growl rose up at Winston’s poorly chosen words.

  “Playing?” Justin turned toward the crowd. “Do you hear him? Killing all those people was some kind of game. Lives don’t mean anything to him. He cares about control alone, and what he can’t control, he kills.” Sensing the growing rage in the room, he egged it on. “He was just playing and you lost your sisters, cousins…” He focused on one man in particular. “Your wives.”

  The man’s cheeks glistened beneath hate-filled eyes. He didn’t need to answer for Rue to see the truth. Perhaps others in the room had lost loved ones, but this man lost the one he loved most.

  “He’s lying to you.” She kept her voice as steady as she could. “Winston couldn’t plan anything larger than a game of hopscotch. Look at him.”

  Heads didn’t move, but hands clenched around weapons pointed toward the former leader of the DOE. As he shied away from their gazes, the once proud man appeared to be trying to collapse in on himself. His own eyes were glued to his shoes, one of which was unlaced. His hands fought each other to see which one would be on top. As much as Rue hated to put him through this, it was the one way to prove Justin’s lies.

  “Do you see what you’ve all been afraid of? Citizen Equalizer Hank Winston? He can’t think his way out of a paper bag.” She put an arm around the man’s shoulders, and he tucked his face into her neck. Sobs wracked him so hard, she shook as well. Even if none of them had been watching, they couldn’t miss his sorrowful wails. “It’s okay, Howard. I won’t let them hurt you.”

  Shiraz stepped forward. “I can’t believe you’re expecting anyone to buy this.” She turned toward the crowd. They were no longer standing so erect and silent. Several of them were whispering amongst themselves. “He’s a liar. He always has been. This is some kind of act.”

  The girl grabbed Winston’s arm and jerked him away from the secure embrace of his niece. “You don’t fool me,” she hissed. “I know the game you’re playing, and you won’t win.”

  The crying suddenly stopped. All at once, Howard’s gentle demeanor fell away. He stopped cowering and rose to his full height. “You don’t know anything.”

  Any hint of his mental disability was gone and with it, any sympathy the soldiers were beginning to feel. “I am Hank Winston. Citizen Equalizer of the DOE. Release me.”

  Not now, Rue thought. Oh, god, not now. The game was over, but her uncle didn’t know it. He was still trying to win. But he didn’t have the mental capacity to understand the consequences of dropping the act.

  “Howard?” She kept her voice gentle, but he didn’t bother looking at her. He was playing the role someone had taught him years before.

  Triumph spread across Shiraz’s beautifully wicked face. “Admit it. You killed all those people.”

  “I did what I had to do,” he said with a smile. “It’s all part of the game, isn’t it?”

  Rue’s heart dropped. If these people understood what the game really was, they would turn on Justin in an instant. The more she thought about it, though, the less certain she was of the real goal in this damn game.

  “Howard.” She put as much force as she could behind his name. “This isn’t the game you were originally taught. This isn’t even the game we were playing. This i
s a new game, and it’s one you can only win by not playing.”

  “Shut up. No one wants to listen to you anymore, Doctor Logan.” Shiraz squeezed Winston’s arm hard and jerked him toward the soldiers. “Tell them what you did. Tell them who you really are.”

  For a moment, Winston looked unsure of himself. He eyes shifted right and left, pausing on Shiraz and then dropping on Rue.

  “Look at him,” Rue commanded the soldiers. “He doesn’t know who to listen to because he isn’t thinking for himself. He needs someone to give him instructions. Does he sound like the leader of the DOE to you? Would a man who ordered the bombing of a hospital ever look to anyone else for orders?”

  “Tell them!” Shiraz’s scream echoed through a suddenly silent room.

  “I… I don’t know… I don’t know what to do. Rue? Help me.”

  “Don’t look at her, Hank.” Justin’s voice had the timbre of a low thunder in the distance. “You know what you did and you’re proud of it, aren’t you? Tell the people what you are. Tell the people what you did.”

  As if a switch had been thrown, Winston went from his true self to the part he’d been playing for years. Rue leaned toward him, but Shiraz thrust the man away from her. “You can’t help him anymore.” Her whisper was a cold ice pick to Rue’s hopes. “You never could.”

  While she stood there statue-stiff, her uncle outlined all the atrocities he had supposedly orchestrated—atrocities carried out by the DOE against the Unequal. Beginning with the enforcement of laws made before any of the soldiers were born, pausing at the horror of a train wreck told in glowing detail, and ending with the destruction of the city’s main hospital. Through it all, Winston smiled. He even made expansive hand gestures and gave the occasional deranged chortle.

  The whole show made Rue sick to her stomach. But Winston was on a roll, and she had no way of stopping him. This drama had to play out whether she wanted it to or not. She had to hope after all was said and done, they’d survive the backlash.

  As a shot rang out, her hopes evaporated. Winston shrieked and crumpled to the ground. One hand clutched at his chest, as though he could dig the slug out with his own fingers. She and Bruno both jumped forward, but the very soldier they’d met in the basement held them in place. His gun was trained toward them, his face twisted into sneer.