Kill School: Slice (19 page)

Demi,
Shah, and I enter the dining hall to the aroma of lunch; meatloaf and mashed
potatoes, mixed in with the smell sweat, and burned hair. Seniors from the
morning games fill the dining hall. Gloves, shin guards, and helmets are strewn
here and there.

Some of the kids sit with their heads on the table, or
their legs outstretched on the bench. Those that don’t have major injuries have
eye patches, arms in slings, or hands wrapped in gauze. Some kids have burnt
cheeks or round holes in uniforms outlined in crispy brown burn marks. Rips and
scorch marks cover their uniforms.

The chatter in the packed dining hall is much louder than
usual. I can tell which teams won and which were less successful by the level
of noise. The winning players take swings with invisible sticks, or duck unseen
balls, obviously reenacting their glorious moments. Their gestures bring
laughter and cheers from their seated cabin mates. The losers sulk or sit with
elbows on the table and hands covering faces. Their chatter is filled with
angry words and cursing. Some of them are even crying.

After we get our lunch trays, Demi guides us to a table
with her siblings, Jack, Mathew, and Lily. Everyone ignores us as we walk to
the table. We are freshmen. We are invisible on game day. Two girls help
another one take the tie out of her hair. Half of her hair falls out into her
hand. She sobs loudly.

I sit with my tray in between Demi and Jack. It’s the first
time I’ve talked to her siblings since the Vactrain ride. Jack’s skinny arms
have developed more muscles since I last saw him.

Jack catches me looking and flexes them for me.

“Feel them,” he says. “Rock hard.”

He’s right. His forearm is as hard as a rock.

Jack fills us in on all the games. Eight kids are in the
infirmary with more severe broken bones, or lacerations. One kid took a flaming
ball to his face. It exploded and covered his body in flames. The doctors don’t
know if he is going to make it.

 “I didn’t know the games were so brutal,” I say.

“You don’t play if you’re not in grace,” Jack says.

“We’re in grace,” Demi says. She hits her brother on the
shoulder. “I told you that before. Where’s Burke? I’m going to clobber him when
I find him. He should have let us know.” She stands up and looks around for
Burke.

“You two are good friends?” Shah asks when Demi sits back
down. I tilt my head toward Demi, as anxious for her response as Shah is.

Demi frowns. “He works for my father on occasion.”

“He’s a good friend of the family,” Jack says. “When his
parents were killed, my dad took him in for a while.”

“Jack, cut it,” Demi says. “He doesn’t like us talking
about him.”

“Oh come on,” Jack says. “He wouldn’t mind. His family’s from
somewhere up north. That’s why he likes it here so much. The cold. The ice. The
lack of people, except for inside camp. He’s kind of a loner.”

“Where does he go all the time?” I ask.

Demi glares at her brother. “I think Burke should tell you
that himself. You guys have a special relationship. I am sure he will.”

“You and Burke?” Shah asks. His grin tells me he likes that
news.

“No, not me and Burke.” I stuff a big piece of meatloaf in
my mouth so that I won’t have to answer any more questions. Burke? Hah.

The conversation turns back to the games. I can’t believe
we are going to have to compete against the other cabins in three short weeks.
Demi plots ways to avoid injury with her siblings. Lily is pearl. Mathew is
opal. Jack is emerald. We’ll have to play against all of them since they are
all in separate cabins.

“Who is your best player?” Demi asks.

Lily puts down her fork. “We’re not telling you, that,
Demi. Where’s the fun in it all?”

Demi pats Shah on the shoulder. “Shah is our best player.”

“That’s not fair,” Shah says through a mouthful of food. He
looks both proud and angry.

“Do you want to win or do you want to stay safe?” Demi
asks.

“I want to win,” Shah says after he swallows.

“Well, there you go.” Demi slumps down in her chair. “My
hair is going to burn off my head.”

“What’s the matter with you, Demi?” Lily asks. “We didn’t
come here to stay safe. Your hair will grow back.”

 “Lily’s right,” Mathew says. “Dad will be proud of us if
we win.”

“We’re not all going to win,” Demi says. “It’s possible
that none of us will.”

“Let us try.” Shah lowers his eyes. “You really think I’m
the best player?”

Demi touches his jaw. “No, but with my help, you will be.
I’ll be a team player. For you.”

I cover my eyes as she kisses him on the cheek. They’ve
known each other less than a week. Public displays of affection should be
limited to people like my parents, people who have been together longer than a
week. We finish lunch with no sign of Burke. We have no choice but to go to our
inclination test without him.

Burke
dressed in a suit makes my mouth fall open. He is the last person I expect to
see wearing a suit. He greets us from the front of a terminal in the assessment
center. His blonde hair shines under the lights, and the tie around his neck is
loose.

I’m so distracted by Burke’s appearance that I walk right
into a pod before I notice that it has been lowered. That’s when I notice the
pods are already lowered and are flashing with our names. Some of our cabin
mates stand in front of their pods, waiting for the door to open.

Burke steps away from the terminal.

“Sorry for missing lunch,” he says. “My attendance was
required at a debriefing.”

Debriefing. My mother’s words,
Burke has killed more
than once
, pop into my mind. Either he witnessed another termination, or he
terminated someone. He looks so good in a suit that it makes me distrust him.
He is my friend. He is a stranger.

I look at the chart to see where my name is. It’s lower
than it was before.

 “It’s not a ranking,” Burke says. “Cheer up.”

He catches my eye and I purse my lips.

“I don’t believe you,” I say.

He laughs. Something has put him in a good mood. I doubt a
debriefing could do that. He types a command into the terminal and the pod
doors open.

“Get in your pod and have a good trip. I’ll meet you on the
other side.” Burke pulls off his tie. “After I change.”

I duck into my pod without looking at Burke. Who needs the
distraction? The door closes just as he walks past my pod. The dark helps me
reset. I fumble for the goggles, put them on, and ready myself for the ride.

This time I fly over camp. I can see the Vactrain, the
steaming gorge and bridge, the jumbled towers of the buildings, and the cabins.
I see the whole camp from above, including the three other groups of cabins.
Just like our section, most of the roofs are green and blue. I pay special
attention to their location. It makes me feel better knowing where all of the
campers’ cabins are, just in case they attack.

After my tour of camp, the visual takes me onto the bridge
and then over it. I’m doing my bungee jump again. This time I can see
everything and my tongue isn’t in my throat. I still feel the sensation of
falling, but the pressure is not on my lungs and the wind is not in my hair.

“You go for a dive over the bridge,” the computerized voice
says. “And see a body lying at the bottom of the gorge.”

I can make out the figure of a girl with a red sweater and
white tights at the bottom of the gorge. Her legs are splayed in a way that
makes me think they are broken. I hope this isn’t real. This can’t be real. I
didn’t see anything when I was down there.

“Your friend tells you she jumped. What do you do?”

My answer choices are:

Leave her be. Nature will bring her back home.

Is it easier that way?

She was murdered.

I have to choose by elimination. I wouldn’t want to leave
her body down there and I would never take my own life. It can’t be easier that
way. The thought would never cross my mind. She was murdered. A chill runs down
my spine when I make my choice.

The visual flies out of the gorge, through the woods, and
then into a crevice. The screen is dark for a moment and then I am flying over
a large stadium. Kids on hoverboards bat balls around with sticks. I feel like
I am watching the games in real time, as if this isn’t a recording. Garnet and
ruby striped uniformed kids play against opal. 

“Games are fun, aren’t they?” the voice asks.

I nod, mesmerized by the action. A flaming ball hits a boy
in a garnet and ruby striped uniform in the arm. He falls off her hoverboard
and slams into the wall. I hear a crack and the boy screams. There isn’t
another question; instead, I have to choose an answer:

I don’t like violence. Maybe I’ll get some more popcorn.

I know he is hurt. I want to see the rest of the game.

Kill him!

“These are all my choices?” I ask.

Where is the one that says I would help him? I don’t like
violence. He’s hurt. I don’t care about the rest of the game or popcorn. Kill
him.

The screen goes dark and then I see myself holding an
amethyst token in my palm. I grab my own palm and wince. The soundproof room in
the library must have been bugged. I didn’t see any annoying little
microdrones, but they may have been resting on the bookshelves. Or, maybe Burke
has something to do with the tests. The algorithm. I have to find out more
about these tests. My mind is jumping all over the place. I can’t breathe.

The token spins slowly on my palm.

“You find yourself in an awkward situation,” the computerized
voice says. “You have to kill a Regulator. Which one do you choose?”

I want to get out of the pod right now. I feel as if I am
going to suffocate if I don’t get out. I unleash the strap and feel around for
the door.

“You must finish your test,” the voice says calmly. “Choose
now.”

When I can’t find a way out, I sit back in my seat and
review my choices.

Regulator Halsted, Regulator Azarian, Regulator Thorn, and
Regulator Krish appear on the screen. Each one has a red dot next to his or her
picture. I don’t want anyone to know I plan on killing Regulator Krish. I can’t
choose Demi’s father or my own representative Regulator Thorn.

I press my thumb into the red dot next to Regulator Halsted’s
face.

The voice asks me more questions and the answer choices
appear on the screen. I can’t understand the words, both verbal and written; my
mind is swimming with amethyst tokens. I press the buttons randomly, hoping
that it will be over soon. I’m vaguely aware of the scenery, biology class, the
pyramid of grace, the Vactrain tube. It’s as if I’m reliving the last week of
my life.

Finally, I am done with the test. When the pod opens, I’m
not surprised to see I am in the room with the two chairs. A bottle of water
and a banana wait for me on the table. This time, I take the water, gulp down
the whole thing, and sit in the chair to wait for Dr. Heap.

Dr. Heap enters a short time later with a pile of papers in
her hand. She’s studying them so hard, that she doesn’t even look up to greet
me when she sits in the chair. After a few more minutes, she looks up.

“Interesting test results.” She puts down the paper and
reaches in her pocket for a bottle of pills. “They switched me to this.” She
opens the bottle, takes out two pills, and swallows them with some water.

“I can explain,” I say. I try to read her mind. It’s not
good. Her foot shakes up and down. She looks frustrated.

Dr. Heap picks up the banana and points it at me like a
gun. Even though it’s just a banana, I spring back in my chair.

“What’s wrong with the banana?” She examines the fruit and
puts it down on the table. “Never mind.” She moves her chair closer to mine.
“You don’t have to explain yourself. I understand. You had a rough week. You
chose randomly, didn’t you?”

I nod and glance at the papers on the table. “I’m sorry.
Can I take it again?”

“No retakes,” Dr. Heap says. “Random answers are common on
the second test. They can be quite revealing, too. Your subconscious mind takes
over and can reveal your true inclination.”

“Can I see my results?” I reach for the stack of paper with
my bandaged hand. I want to know if she’s seen my answer to the amethyst
question.

Dr. Heap grasps my hand before I can touch the papers.

“How’s slice going?” She turns my hand over and looks
closely at my palm.

“It’s not,” I say.

I tell her everything that happened, from me being too sick
to go to class, to accidentally stabbing myself and fainting in biology. While
I regurgitate my week, she stuffs the papers back in her briefcase. I get the
feeling that she won’t tell me anything about my answers. When the new pod
drops from the ceiling, signaling the end of the session, I am right. I get up
and walk out the door, hoping Dr. Heap is not on to me.