Numbers Game

Treena can’t wait for Rating Day. Her high score will mean a life of luxury, showing the world that she’s a valuable member of society and not a pathetic waste of space. It won’t hurt her chances with her top-Rated boyfriend, either. But when the big day arrives, her true number shocks everyone.

To get her life—and boyfriend—back, she must go undercover and expose a military spy. Doesn’t sound too hard, except that someone seems to want her dead. And then there’s the mysterious soldier with a haunted past and beautiful brown eyes. Together, they discover a dark numbers conspiracy, one that shatters the nation’s future. They must band together if they are to survive the dangerous game of numbers—and the terrible war that rages within Treena’s heart.

Rebecca Rode

For my husband, Francis, who will always be my Number One;

and for my daughter, whose beauty and spirit

transcends numbers altogether.

1

TREENA

T
he
biggest event of my life was minutes away—thirty-nine minutes, to be exact—and my two best friends couldn’t stop fighting.

Dresden rode his custom-made, sleek, silver bicycle to my left. His clean white uniform was tailored tightly to his firm shoulders, and he moved with a certain ease, a confidence that seemed to draw the eyes of every student around us. Fates, he was beautiful. I still couldn’t believe he’d chosen me for his girlfriend. He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Come on, Treena. Pick up the pace.”

Tali, pedaling her dull black bike to my right, snickered. “Such a gentleman.”

We usually headed for work at the broadcasting center after school, but that was over now. Today the yellow lanes were clogged with Level Three graduates, all headed in the same direction—the city center. We would enter as kids and emerge officially Rated adults. My stomach twisted at the thought. I’d looked forward to this my entire life, and now that it was here I just wanted to be left alone. I checked my techband again. Thirty-eight minutes.

A wide-set guy with a black bike pedaled hard in front of me, taking up half the lane by himself. Traffic was especially bad today, but only in the yellow lane where we traveled. The green lanes were clear as could be.

“Look at that line,” Dresden said with a chuckle. “It’s disgusting how desperate people get.” I followed his gaze to the Appearance Sector. A long line of desperate, last-minute customers in purple watched us pass with closed expressions. Advertisements for plastic surgery—“Get Your Rating-Preferred Nose Here!”—vision correction, advanced-formula nutrition pills, and eye tattoos battled for attention on the storefronts and ad boards above their heads. Tomorrow was Rating Day for them. As graduates, we got our numbers a day before everyone else. Lucky us.

The traffic light flashed, and we dragged to a stop. Dresden loved this section of town, where the skyscrapers loomed high above us. The tallest one, a shiny copper edifice, stood at the corner to my right. I pointedly ignored it.

Dres shaded his eyes with one hand. “It doesn’t look eighty-two floors high from here, does it?”

“I’m sure it looks higher from the top,” Tali said.

It did, but I didn’t say so. That meant admitting I’d been up there. The tower housed the Olympus Credit Office, but it was better known for what happened there the night of Rating Day each year. The building’s guards would conveniently disappear, and some of the newest reds and yellows—the year’s “loser crop,” as Dresden called them—would climb the stairs to the top and jump. The morning road-cleaning crew swept up their broken bodies along with the dirt and trash.

The noblest decision they could have made
,
my stepdad often said.

“Some of the guys are coming to watch tonight,” Dresden said. “There were six jumpers last year and four the year before that. Maybe tonight there will be even more.”

I fought a sudden nausea and looked away. The light stopped blinking, and Dresden pushed off. He was halfway through the intersection before I managed to follow.

“I don’t get why you like him,” Tali said next to me. “Are you okay, Treen? You look pale.”

“I’m fine. Give Dresden a break, Tali. He’s a good guy. There’s a lot more to him than you think.”

“There better be.” She gave a loud sigh as we caught up to Dresden. “Fates, I can’t wait for the ceremony to be over. Then everyone will be halfway normal again, and we can just live our lives in peace for another year.”

“And that is exactly your problem,” Dresden said, glancing at us. “You don’t live
in spite
of your number but
because
of it. Ratings are the whole point. At least for those of us living in reality. Peak was a genius when he came up with the system.”

Tali rolled her eyes. “That’s stupid. The numbers shape themselves to fit us, not the other way around. Ratings are supposed to make order of chaos, make it easier to live our lives. Not
become
our lives.”

“Taliyah,” I warned. After my big speech about Dresden’s qualities, she had to bring up the one subject he wouldn’t back down on.

“You don’t get it,” Dresden said. “And you never will. It’s people like you who become yellows and reds. Treena, I can’t believe you call her your friend. I hope associating with her didn’t pull your score down.”

“If you dorks don’t stop fighting,” I said, “I’m throwing you both off the tower.”

Tali chuckled and leaned toward me. “Don’t worry about him, Treen. He doesn’t often surround himself with us lesser folk. When it comes to himself or others, he’ll always choose himself.” Her voice rose as if to make sure he could hear. “In fact, if you were lying in the street dying, he wouldn’t give you a second thought. Unless you were a green, of course. Not even that—no, you’d have to be a higher green, and he’d make sure everyone was watching before he helped.”

“Taliyah,” I broke in, my voice flat. “That’s enough.”

Her mouth snapped closed, but her cheeks flushed pink. Dresden glared at his bike handles, his knuckles white. For him to reply would only add truth to her words. Tali would just have to get used to this. Dresden had been in my life for months now, and if we scored within a hundred points of each other, he would be a major part of it. Forever. She’d have to keep her angry rants to herself.

“Taking the shortcut,” Tali grumbled as we approached Harbor Road. “See you there.”

“Wait!” I called after her and gave Dresden an apologetic look. “Let’s go with her. It’ll be faster.”

He exhaled hard, but his desire to get there quickly must have overridden his disdain for my friend, because he turned to follow. I felt like a mother juggling two toddlers, trying to keep them both within reach, trying not to choose one over the other. I guess I kept hoping they’d grow up instead of forcing me to make that choice.

Tali was already down the block, pedaling hard in the empty lane. We’d get there faster this way, but we also had to pass the Red District, which was one good reason we usually avoided this route.

“You could at least pretend to be nice to her,” I told him as we followed. She was riding faster now, probably because her attempt to escape Dresden hadn’t worked. “I’m nice to your friends, you know.”

“My friends come from high families, Treena. Tali lives in a different world than we do. You’re above her in every way. You’ll see that soon enough.” He gave me a sideways glance. “That’s the beauty of the numbers—it puts everyone where they’re supposed to be.”

“Shh. Not so loud.”

The road was rougher here, and so were the people. They filled the sidewalks, their red numbers glowing on their foreheads like blood. Beggars in worn uniforms lined the filthy street, watching us carefully, as if trying to decide if we carried nutrition pills. I didn’t, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if they approached us to find out. An image of a mob attacking us as we rode past flashed through my mind. I shuddered and pedaled harder.

It felt like forever, but we finally emerged from the Red District and cut across an empty park. At first glance the city center looked like any other old-fashioned government building, little more than a six-story box with white marble and stately Roman columns. Transports were lined up in front, delivering important people like a giant anaconda giving birth to various shades of purple uniforms. These were the city’s elite, people like my stepdad. The side entrance was full of students in white clamoring to make their way inside.

Tali had already parked her bike. Well, thrown it to the ground, more like. She strode toward the doors like a determined soldier going to war. I could only hope she wasn’t too mad to save me a seat. We parked our bikes.

Dresden started toward the building, but I held back. “You ready for this?”

He chuckled. “Of course. I’ve been preparing for this my whole life. You have too, remember?”

“Yeah, but I can’t help thinking that there’s something I’ve missed—some little score I haven’t earned yet.”

He snapped his fingers. “I know! You forgot to organize your shoes by color and style this morning.”

“Very funny.”

“Look, I’ve never seen anyone align their life to the Standards as closely as you. You’re almost obsessive, Treena. If anyone
doesn’t
have cause to worry, it’s you. Now, what’s really going on?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. Have you ever wondered if you really want this? The Rating, the implant, everything?”

He cocked his head and examined me like a scientist would study a bug. “You’re joking, right? That doesn’t sound like the kick-butt Treena I know. Come here.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward a tree. A fir tree, I guessed by the needles, although it was plastic. Real trees hadn’t existed in NORA for decades.

When we were out of sight, I rested my head against his chest, feeling him exhale in a contented sigh. It was easy to pretend that nothing would ever change when we were together like this. It almost felt like tomorrow was just another school day. Like our first official steps into adulthood were years away instead of minutes.

“You’re just nervous,” he whispered. “Let me help you forget.” My pulse quickened as he lowered his head to mine, and I lifted my face willingly. Our lips met. He was a great kisser— passionate and hungry—and he didn’t hold back. I melted into his chest as the heat between us intensified. But all too soon he pulled away, gasping for breath. I groaned, and a goofy smile spread across his face. “And now, it’s time to go.” He released me and threw his arms wide. “Our destiny awaits!”

I threaded my fingers through his. Dres was right. We’d prepared for this since we could crawl. It was a celebration, not a sentence. I checked my techband. Twenty-two minutes. “Together, right?”

“Absolutely. No matter what.”

2

VANCE

I
glared at the concrete sidewalk. The late afternoon shadows inched their way toward the street, taunting us, reminding us that we’d awaited orders for over two hours. Apparently our superiors thought twelve guys had nothing better to do than stand around in the heat. We could sit in the transports, but for me, sore feet were preferable to slow-baked internal organs.

I looked for shade without success. Even in a smaller city like Olympus, everything was hard—the sidewalk, the road where thousands of bicyclists had passed within the last hour, the tall buildings surrounding us like an ugly concrete forest. It was ironic. The only real colors in sight were the Ratings people wore on their foreheads.

“Vance?”

The voice blended with the hum of bike traffic, and it didn’t quite register. Then a hand grabbed my shoulder. I moved instinctively, twisting to pin the offender’s arms, a quick leg sweep, right fist cocked and poised for the next strike. I didn’t realize who my opponent was until he had already hit the ground. Neb, the new boy, was spread flat on the concrete, staring at me in stunned surprise.

“Fates!” he said, his voice catching. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. A little jumpy today, aren’t you, Vance?”

I groaned and pulled him up from the sidewalk. The kid barely weighed anything. He shook himself loosely, as if to show that he’d meant to end up on the ground all along. But then he reached up to rub the shoulder I’d nearly yanked out of its socket.

“You need something?” I didn’t try to keep the irritation out of my voice. If Neb could creep up on me, anyone could. That would never have happened two years ago.

“Poly has an update for you,” he muttered, taking a small step backward.

I wiped my sweaty forehead for the trillionth time. Why they made us wear black uniforms in a blasted desert, I’d never know. “Coming.”

Poly stood with one leg in the first transport, his dark arms resting on the top, sleeves rolled up to expose dark biceps larger than most men’s thighs. He stood upright as I approached, and the metal vehicle groaned in protest. The yellow numbers on his forehead, more orange in the bright sunlight, glowed a bright 501—the lowest Rating possible before becoming a red. One of the biggest insults a NORA citizen could receive.

I resisted the urge to brush my fingers over my own Rating. Not that I cared about the number, of course, but the implanted device made me feel branded. Like the cattle my father and I used to—

Stop.
Thoughts of my father were pointless, and I had no time for that now. I accepted the water pouch Poly offered and took a big gulp, swallowing quickly. The nasty aftertaste of NORA’s water was something I’d never get used to. “So the Demander finally decided to tell us what we’re supposed to be doing?”

Poly sighed, more a deep rumble of air than an exhalation. He hated my nickname for Commander Denoux. “Backup at the city center for the Rating Ceremony. There’s word of an unusual Rating being awarded or something.”

“Better than chasing smugglers, I guess.” At least it was indoors. We’d caught five smugglers today, two of them kids. Hopefully that was enough to convince the Demander that Olympus was subdued enough for us to go back to the capital city. I dreaded another night of uncomfortable surveillance in a transport. Besides, being so close to the integration camp brought memories to the surface that I preferred to forget.

Traitor.

The thought came frequently these days, though not as often as it had at first. The first year had been pretty bad. The second year I’d learned how to dam the guilt inside like the frozen, hardened soldier NORA wanted. What would the third year bring?

How many more years could I take?

“We’re to report in twenty minutes. But before we go,” he said in his deep voice, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

I looked away with a grunt. He was nice enough, a good team leader, but his dark eyes reminded me too much of my dad’s.

“It’s coming up soon, right? The anniversary.”

I shrugged. “Let’s just go.”

“You’ve been with us almost two years.”

I didn’t answer.

He paused, then plunged on. “If you’re choosing the work-camp route, I need to know soon. I’ll need to train someone to replace you.”

“I’ll let you know,” I said. “We shouldn’t waste time.” I stalked to the end of the transport line where my team waited and gave them the update, feeling Poly’s eyes on my back.

As always, the guys stuffed themselves into the backseats, fighting over the edges with the most legroom. They stayed away from the passenger seat. That was mine. I climbed in and slammed the door a little too hard.

The anniversary, Poly had called it. Anniversaries were for happy married couples, for men who rode in transports to their assignments and came home clean, unstained by blood and guilt. Anniversaries were definitely not for people like me—someone who’d fought for his life around the twisted bodies of his neighbors and friends, their charred remains still smoking in the early morning light.

I tried to think of something else, but the sounds echoed in my brain as sharply as they had that awful night almost two years ago—people shouting, children screaming as their parents collapsed. The sound of gunfire, the rifles held by my clan members, and the chilling accuracy of NORA’s strange, silent weapons. Dad’s order to take our family to safety.

It was the last thing I’d ever hear him say.

I shoved that thought away and focused on Poly’s words. If I decided to extend my military service, it would always be like this. One assignment to another, then another. More lives destroyed. If I chose the work camps, at least that part would end. But so would my freedom.

Not true. I didn’t know what freedom was anymore.

Poly wanted my decision. So far, my decision was to not decide at all. “City center,” I told the driver and sat back for the ride.