Controllers (Book 1)

by Lynnie Purcell

  The room on the other side of the door is very large. The walls are black and the floor is white stone. Metal beams arch over my head. The metal is silver and very shiny. There is a group of twenty guards spaced around the room. They're wearing red as well, but they don't have pistols. They have metal sticks with sharp prongs on the end. When someone doesn't move fast enough, they push the sticks into the small of the person's back or on their arms and a blue spark sizzles the person's skin. Some of the sparks send people to their knees. Most just make the person hurry forward.

  My fellow captives are standing in long rows. There are twenty of them in the room. They're all wearing the same grey uniform. Most of them have tears in their eyes. There's a lot of sniffing and dry heaves as people silently continue to cry. The guards are circling the room, warning us not to make a sound. Those who fail their commands are shocked into silence.

  My guard pushes me toward the row and I stumble. One of the guards gets in my face. Spit flies onto my cheek as he yells. "Get in line! Go! Go!"

  I ignore my initial impulse to talk back to him and step in line next to a short girl. She is one of the few in my row who is not crying. She has curly black hair, brown eyes and a very curvy figure. She is more filled out than I am, but we look to be the same age. She's upset but her expression is stoic. She glances at me as I step next to her. She doesn't say anything. Her glance quickly returns to the wall. The guards are still yelling at us to be quiet, to stand up straighter, to put our armbands on, to be everything we're not. I keep my eyes on the wall and hold my breath whenever a guard gets in my face.

  I don't really hear what they're saying. I stare at the wall and wait for the yelling to end. A boy steps next to me on my other side. He's very skinny and is trembling hard. Another boy steps next to him. He has more muscles, but he's doing the same amount of trembling. My palms are sweating. I wipe them on my pants and try to stay as stationary as possible. The guards hone in on the people who shift too often.

  Finally, the door opens for the last time. Those who were crying have stopped. The electric shocks have dried their tears far faster than time or logic. The sounds of shuffling feet, panting, and sniffing have increased. I hear my stomach rumble hungrily. The humming has gotten louder with the pain. The two are connected. I want to lay down and sleep. I can't. The guards are still screaming. I wince as one screams at me. I think I hear him call me a dreg. It's hard to tell. Another gobble of spit lands in my ear. I repress a shiver.

  "Eyes forward, dregs!" a strong voice overrides the others.

  I lean to my left to see around the tall boy in front of me and see a large woman with thick shoulders and black hair slicked back into a ponytail. Her shock stick is safely in its holster, and a glance is all I need to know that she's older than the others. She has a gold pin at her neck. I take it to be her rank.

  The words have barely left her mouth when a door at the top of a small ramp at the end of the large room opens. The woman who assigned my number to me walks out with two others: a skinny, balding man and a young man with dark hair. The woman is wearing a smile now. She looks like a kind, loving mother. Once glance in her eyes tells me it's a lie. She walks down the ramp and circles the first row. Her expression is pleasant but disgust is in her eyes. She does not like us.

  The men stand at the front of the room with the woman who has the gold pin on her jacket. They look bored. I get the feeling they have been through the ritual many times. The woman has some sort of device that projects her voice on her shirt. It amplifies the sound, and I hear her words twice, once on the way to me, the second time on the way back to her.

  "My name is Honey," she says. "You may call me Honey and nothing else." She pauses in front of a tall boy. He starts trembling. There's a pool at his feet. He has urinated on himself. She shakes her head at him and keeps walking. "Today is the best day of your lives. Today you have the opportunity to become a citizen."

  My hands clench at her words. I am a citizen. I was born not far from the city. I live in the same country she does. She does not agree. She smiles as if she heard my thoughts.

  "Citizenship is not born to the masses. It is earned through discipline, service, and self-sacrifice. You will learn to appreciate all three. The next few months will be hard on all of you. But the toughest, the best, and the brightest will survive. You will come to serve the capital and its people. You will add to our shining city and make it great."

  She's moving closer to me. I don't want her to look at me. I'm certain she will see my hate and disgust. She will see straight through me. She's looking for rebelliousness and people not motivated purely by fear. She's not wandering our ranks for her pleasure. I work hard to make my eyes soft and scared. The man's words float through my mind.

  Hide what you are capable of.

  "Some of you will fail. But you will be in the minority. We want you to succeed. We want to add you to our great society. It's in everyone's best interest that you pass the tests ahead of you. We are your greatest supporters in this task."

  She's one row away from me and moving closer. The skinny boy next to me is shaking so hard I'm afraid he's going to blow away. I want to reach out and soothe him. I know it will bring more attention to him if I do. I clench my fingers around the fabric of my pants and keep my focus on the back wall.

  "Your minds will expand and grow. You will be taught to contribute. Your skills will be our skills. Our minds will be your minds."

  Were we people or bees?

  "When you leave this room through the door at the top of the ramp, you will be assessed. We will find your strengths and weaknesses. We will push and push and push. It's for your own good. You will thank us for it."

  I wish they would stop saying that. I will never thank them for it.

  She's three people away from me and closing in. Look soft, look weak, don't let her think you hate her. Don't let her think that you are already looking for an escape route. Be soft.

  "Joining me in your training is scientist Willem Bakas." The balding man at the front of the room sniffs twice - the sound of snot sucking into his nostrils echoes around the room unpleasantly - and then adjusts his glasses awkwardly. "And Benny, head guard of the facility." The younger man's lips curl over his white teeth in a grin that somehow looks like a snarl.

  I take a deep breath as the woman stops in front of me. Her eyes assess me for a minute as she pauses. The added trembling around me does nothing for my nerves. Everyone thinks I'm in trouble. I agree with them. I keep my eyes lowered so that I'm staring at her nose. I realize it is a pug's nose, only it looks better on a dog.

  Be soft. Be weak.

  She starts walking again, apparently satisfied with her assessment of me. I let out my breath. The short girl next to me catches my eyes and winks once. The gesture surprises me. It's the first human thing I've seen all day. I resist my smile of relief with effort.

  "I know that some of you are thinking about running away. I don't recommend it. We have the best security force in the city."

  She turns to the scientist, Willem, and smiles. He nods pleasantly and then sniffs again. The sound makes me cringe.

  "We are also below ground and surrounded by three gates, as some of you will have seen on your way in. There is no escape. You are here now. You need to make the best of it. Anyone caught attempting to escape will be shot on sight."

  Another warning that we will be shot. It must happen a lot.

  "Failure is not an option," Honey adds. "Don't let the city down."

  She is back to the front of the room. She looks us over. She's not impressed by the sight. I wonder if she is asking herself how many of us will fail.

  "Move them out," she adds to the man she identified as Benny.

  Benny steps forward and gets in the face of the last person in line to the far right. "You heard her! Move! The girl jumps, squeaks in fear and then hurries to the door. "Faster, faster!" Benny yells, pushing the next person in line to get them moving.

  The room empt
ies from right to left. I run after the skinny boy and up the ramp. Honey and Willem watch silently as Benny and his guards force us to the door. I glance over my shoulder before I am forced through the door and see that Honey's eyes are on me again.

  Why is she watching me? Did my ruse not work? Do I have to worry? I remember Angela's moment with Gib. She practically told him she was a rebel. I'm one by association. The government does not like rebels. If they think me a rebel, why have they brought me to the city? Wouldn't it have been easier to kill me? Does Honey plan on it?

  I step through the door and find myself in a large hall. The line is dwindling in front of me quickly. Over the large black door at the other end of the hall are the words: Our Children Are Our Future.

  The guards are at the front and back of the halls. They don't patrol us like they did in the room. They are too busy making sure the line moves smoothly.

  "Hey," the girl behind me whispers. It's the girl who winked at me.

  I don't look back. "Yeah?" I whisper.

  "I'm Maria," she says.

  Her words startle me. I can't believe anyone is brave enough to say their name after all the warnings we have received.

  "I just want someone to know in case I don't make it through the other side of that door," she adds.

  I think about it for a moment. She's right. What if we're assessed and they find we're not worth the effort? What if they kill me instead of letting me into their ridiculous citizen program? The idea that I will never find Max flashes in front of my mind.

  "Bree," I reply.

  "Nice to meet you," she murmurs over the sound of the guards shouting at us to hurry.

  A smile flickers across my face before briefly dying away. The door is moving closer. How can they be assessing people so quickly? Are they killing half? All? Is this all some elaborate ruse to lead us to our deaths? What possible use could they have for us? We're nothing to them. We're worse than nothing to them. They have turned us into something inhuman.

  The woman with the gold pin on her red jacket opens the door for me. She does not speak. She lets Benny do all the talking. He is still at the back of the group, urging us forward. His voice echoes around the hall, making it sound like a dozen boys are yelling at us. I wonder why Benny gets a name and the woman doesn't. Do I have to fear him or her? Why do her dead eyes freak me out so much? At least Benny feels something, even if it's malice and anger.

  I can't see anything on the other side of the room. There is just darkness. I have a feeling that it's not a normal room. I don't want to move forward. I can't remember making the decision to walk, but the press of bodies pushes me forward. Suddenly I'm inside the room.

  The room is not as dark as it seemed on the outside. Black glass surrounds me. The light that hangs from the ceiling is a soft blue. The door shuts behind me and the room spins. I'm on a moving platform of some kind. I hear the door open again and Maria steps onto a slightly raised platform to my left. I move to the edge and see the rooms are aligned around a central pole thicker than any tree I have ever seen. The rooms run up and down the pole in a spiral. There is plenty of space for everyone.

  I turn around as the glass walls flicker with light. Then I hear a voice. It's stuffy and unpleasant. It's just the way I think Willem sounds. "Please press the picture that appeals to you first," he says from what feels like everywhere. "Failure to answer a question in ten seconds is instant disqualification."

  Is disqualification a fancy way of saying death? I'm confused by his words, but my confusion does not last long. Four pictures appear on the glass in front of me. There's a child, a fire, a flower, and something that looks like the pod that brought me to the center. I don't know which one is the right answer. I don't know how to trick them.

  "Eight...seven...six..." Willem's voice counts down for me.

  Feeling uncertain and afraid, I reach out and touch the picture of the pod. The thrill of the ride is still in my mind. The pictures instantly dissolve and another group of four appear in front of me. Willem starts counting again. I touch the first picture I like and they dissolve. I lose track of how many combination of pictures there are as the test continues. I start reaching out the second the pictures appear and push the one I'm drawn to the most. I've forgotten to lie. The counting doesn't give me enough time to trick them.

  Finally the pictures stop and Willem's voice resonates again. "Please finish the puzzle. You have five minutes."

  Black outlines appear on the screen. The pieces fit together in a larger image. I frown at the sight and then reach out to touch the screen. The pieces move with my touch. I work to put the puzzle together. It does not take me long. Another puzzle, then another, appears in front of me. I make quick work of them all.

  Then a maze is put in front of me. I have to make it to the end without running into any walls. When I've made it through the maze, I am faced with arithmetic problems, word association, reaction tests, and logic problems. Some of the logic problems surprise me. They are the same problems Devlin used to put in front of me while fighting. I would have to work through the problem while we fought. I hated it. Now, I am grateful.

  After I finish the logic problems, I am faced with yes or no questions. Willem asks me a question like, "If a neighbor who once turned you into the authorities for a minor violation was robbed and you knew who the perpetrator was, would you tell the police?" and I have to say yes or no. The questions are morally complicated, abstract, and test my long-held beliefs. I'm not certain if I am answering the right way. I'm failing to hide. I have no idea how to do things differently.

  Finally, after what feels like years, the questions come to an end. The white light dies away and silence descends. No one tells me what to do. They'll get to me when they feel like it. I am far more expendable than they are.

  I move back over to the edge of the room and look down. I wonder if anyone has ever jumped at this point in the assessment process. Perhaps that is the point of the height. To give those who are willing the opportunity to end it. Blue lights are at the very bottom as well as black mats that move off into a larger room I can't see yet. People move around, but it's difficult to see details. They are specks of dark movement, nothing more. My room slowly shifts down the spiral. I realize that I have been moving the entire time. At the rate I am going, it will take me twenty minutes to get to the bottom.

  I lay on my stomach to watch the floor move closer and think about the tests. I wonder how I did. The camp never had such tests. There was never any pressure to answer anything. It was all about survival and serving the people. I'm surprised by the sweat along my back and the sinking feeling in my stomach. It's as though I've chased a herd of deer through the woods only to miss the shot and have the deer scatter. The miss means I have to return to camp empty-handed. I don't know why I'm so nervous.

  The guards have moved to the bottom level. They pull a large boy off the black glass and onto the mats. The larger room is gradually revealed to me. Several of the guards move around the room with violent intent. They're fighting with the others. The people in grey are doing a lot of bleeding as the guards laugh at the easiness of the fights. They intend on testing our fighting abilities next. I wonder what other tests we will face. My mind still hurts from all the questions. How long will I be forced to fight? What happens if I lose? I have the feeling that losing the fight is not as big of a deal as failing the test. They don't expect everyone to be able to fight. They just want to know if we can. Devlin's training flashes in front of me. I can take them all on and win. They are ridiculously under qualified to teach anyone anything.

  Don't let them know what you are capable of.

  Five minutes later, it's my turn. I stand as my room hits the floor. The dead-eyed woman gestures me out. Her eyes bore into my face indifferently. I step out with the gesture and the room behind me folds into the floor and disappears.

  "There," the woman tells me, pointing.

  The mats are squishy and perfect for falling. Several people are on th
e floor, recovering from minor injuries. Dummies, sticks, and bags that look like they are meant for hitting are spaced around the room. A large room of black glass the size of my entire camp is to the right. Benny is standing parallel to the woman. She's pointing right at him. I'm not the gulping type, but that is exactly what I do as I look at him. I have to fight him. And I have to lose.

  This is going to hurt.

  I step in front of him, my eyes on the ground, and wait for him to start the fight.

  "You're gangly," he says, circling me. "But tall. That means a long reach. Can you fight?"

  I shake my head.

  "Can you not speak, dreg?" he asks.

  I finally find his eyes. He's looking at me like I'm trash. I don't know what to say to keep him from remembering me later.

  "Well?" he demands.

  "Yes," I say.

  His hand lashes out and he catches me in the stomach. I gasp. The hit is not hard, but it's a shock. He's testing to see my reaction. He wants me to fight back.

  "Who said you could speak?" he asks.

  I hold my stomach and look at him. I wait to see what he's going to do next. He walks around me. As he does, my eyes catch on a small platform above the black glass room. The flash of gold against the backdrop of black is very noticeable. It's the man from the hospital. He has a small device in his hand. He is making notes on it as he watches the fights taking place on the mat. He leans against the rail and looks bored.

  His eyes connect with mine but his expression doesn't change. He's waiting to see how I handle the situation. His eyes are assessing. There is nothing of the warning he gave me in his face. I begin to wonder if I imagined it.

  "Put your hands up!" Benny says.

  I hold them up, my palms facing out to him. He laughs at me.

  "You're helpless," he says. He slaps my arms, stinging my forearms with pain. "Like this."

  He shows me a basic fighting stance. Devlin would have laughed at him. He felt that putting up a guard was a waste of time. It was better to deflect the hit or move out of the way rather than take it with such a flimsy guard that would just get me hurt. I mimic his stance, doing my best to look awkward and uncertain.

  "Good," he says. "Throw a punch."

  I hesitate. Attacking him is a trick.

  "Like this," he adds.

  He lashes out again and his fist connects with my jaw. I anticipate the punch and do nothing to stop it. I drop to one knee. His hits are getting harder. How far will he take it? I get the distinct impression no one will cry if he kills me. Or will they? I'm no longer certain I understand the situation fully.

  "Get up and fight me," he says.

  I stand, my hand on my jaw, and look at him. I figure I need to speed things along. The faster I prove to him I can't fight, the quicker I can get to the next test. I put my hands up again and he smirks at me. The snarl is back. I take a deep breath to prepare myself for the coming pain and throw a sloppy punch at Benny's face. He catches my wrist, forces my arm behind my back, and then knees me in the stomach. He's not finished. He kicks the back of my knee and I hit the ground on my back, my shoulder flashing with red-hot pain. He kicks me in the back and I curl into a ball. He kicks me several more times. I lose track of how many times he hits me. My entire body is on fire.

  I want to fight him. I want to make him to suffer. Max's face appears in front of my eyes. He's more important than my pain. I will have to put up with much more to find him.

  I have only begun to feel the pain that is headed my way.

  Chapter 10