Numbers Game (7 page)

9

M
y
legs moved to a rhythm, predictable and steady, and I barely noticed the citizens and vehicles around me. Running was a huge relief after a difficult mission and cramped transport ride. I required my team to run with me every week for conditioning, but that was only a small part of it. For one precious hour, I could leave the past behind.

Someone behind me sucked in a ragged breath and then coughed. I smiled. Tormenting Semias, who had to stop every few minutes to catch his wind, was yet another perk.

We were three miles from the bunker—I refused to think in kilometers—when my techband suddenly vibrated. Murphy was back with the newest recruit, no doubt.

I slowed to a walk and accepted the call, wondering what the latest unskilled and sorry trainee would be like. “Vance here.”

“I thought we talked about the running thing,” Murphy said, using his most authoritative voice. “You scare the citizens. I probably have a dozen formal complaints on my desk already. “

“What’s wrong with scattering the stuffy businessmen on their way home? They could use a little more exercise anyway.”

He muttered something under his breath. “Get out of the bike lanes and onto the sidewalk. Meet me at the furniture store in five minutes.” The screen went blank.

I forced back the irritation. We’d passed that a mile back, and since he could track us, he probably knew it.

“Time to sprint, boys,” I shouted, smiling at the groans that followed.

When we got there, Murphy leaned casually against his transport. Casual for him, anyway. He probably stood at attention in his sleep. The guys, still heaving from their run, crowded the transport for a look at our newest recruit. I pushed my way through and froze as Murphy opened the car door. The passenger stepped out and stood, blinking in the bright sunlight.

A girl.

The other guys quieted, and someone cleared his throat. The girl was of a slight build, with searching dark brown eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, although the front part was swept over her forehead and pinned into place. I saw the soft red glow of the numbers underneath. She shifted her weight from side to side as if wishing she could run away or climb back into the vehicle. She looked at me, and I stiffened. The girl from the Rating Ceremony.

Daymond cleared his throat. “You’re the new recruit, then?”

The girl nodded, her eyes still glued on me. It was hard to tell she was the same person I’d seen in Olympus. Her shoulders slumped a little, and her haunted eyes darted around like a cornered raccoon; her new purple uniform hung poorly on her petite frame.

The Demander had gone too far this time. If he thought sending a girl would hold us back, he was dead wrong.

“This is Ametrine Dowell,” Murphy announced. His voice held a hint of amusement at our reaction. “Treat her well, boys. And good luck to you, Ametrine.” He strode around to the driver’s side and climbed in. The transport pulled away and disappeared into traffic. She stared after it, looking a little lost.

“A girl,” Daymond said. “What the fates were they thinking?”

“She’s pregnant,” Semias said, staring at her. “That’s the only explanation.”

Ametrine gasped and whirled to face him.

“Don’t be stupid, Semias,” Ross said with on his I-know-everything air. “They send pregnant girls straight to the medics, then to the work camps.”

“How do you know? Experience?” Daymond asked. Ross opened his mouth, but Daymond talked over him. “Well, what are we supposed to do with a girl?”

“I get her first,” Semias said. His eyes slid slowly down her body.

The guys instantly went still. The girl froze. Before I even realized what I was doing, I had slammed Semias against the store wall. His expression was stunned, then turned murderous. He was several inches taller and thicker through the shoulders, but my hand tightening on his esophagus effectively encouraged him to be still. “One more comment like that,” I spat, “and it’ll be your last.”

He swatted at my hand and gave me a death glare.

Daymond jumped forward and extended his hand to Ametrine. “I’m Daymond. You’ve already met Vance, leader of Team Two. I guess you’re one of us now. You’ll meet Team One back at the bunker.”

I pulled away from Semias, who was peeling himself off the wall, and nodded. Handshakes were a NORA thing. “Don’t mind Semias. He’s all mouth, especially when it comes to stuffing himself.”

Semias swore under his breath.

“You’ll be with me until you’re trained, Ametrine,” I told her.

“Call me Treena.”

Neb pulled on my sleeve like an eager toddler. I tried to ignore him, but the tugging became more insistent. I shot him a glare.

There was an unnatural hint of color in his cheeks. “I just thought of something.”

“What?”

“Um, where’s she gonna sleep?”

Someone coughed, and I felt anger rise up inside me again. What was the commander thinking, sending a girl? This really complicated things. “We’ll put her in the bathroom—I mean, washroom.”

“Excuse me?” Treena said.

It was suddenly very quiet. “But,” Neb continued, “what if we have to—you know—”

“I’m sure she’ll share.”

“Hold on,” Treena said. “There’s no way I’m sleeping in a washroom.”

“Three-quarters pace, men,” I ordered. “See you at the bunker.”

The guys looked grumpy, but they got the hint and took off at a jog. Semias lumbered along after them at a walk. If only I could get Poly to take Semias. He wasn’t ready to advance yet, but . . . a girl? This was going to be tough.

I motioned for her to walk with me, but she shook her head. “No. Let’s run. Why are you treating me like a porcelain doll?”

With a shrug, I started to jog. Her legs were shorter, but she kept pace pretty well. “The bathroom offers a lock and privacy. I don’t trust these guys, and neither should you.”

She looked at me out of the corner of her eye, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. If she couldn’t trust yellows, could she really trust a red? For a while there was only the sound of traffic and the steady rhythm of our breathing. After about a mile, she was still keeping up. At least they’d sent me a girl who could run.

“Fine,” she said after several minutes. “I’ll sleep in the washroom until they’re used to me. But only if it’s clean.”

I gave her a sideways look. She’d just joined the most dangerous military unit in the nation, and she was worried about sanitation. “We do our own cleaning, so I can’t promise anything. But it could be worse. You could be sleeping in the stairwell.”

She shot me a glare. Treena looked like any other NORA girl, but I sensed an intense anger under the surface. She was obviously not happy to be here. What could she possibly have done to warrant 440? And why had they sent her here, of all places?

There was only one way to find out.

I clicked my techband screen up and called Daymond. His face came into view, bouncing with his strides. “Yep.”

“Change of plans,” I said. “Let’s stop at the Red District. I think it’s a good time to get Treena’s initiation out of the way.”

“Yes, sir,” Daymond said with a grin.

It gave me great satisfaction to see Treena swallow hard.

10

I
’d been here before.

At least that’s what it felt like. The Red District in Aiguille was similar to the one in Olympus: very few bikes and hordes of people shuffling around, their eyes darting sharply, missing nothing. Dozens of children dodged through the crowds, laughing and playing, their uniforms dirty and unfitted. I wrinkled my nose. The roads were black with filth, the buildings shorter and dusted with various shades of grime. The street cleaners obviously didn’t come here either.

The citizens’ faces showed a practiced boredom, but they clung to their kids with the ferocity of a mother bear. The EPIC team lined up on the curb, still sweaty and panting from their run, and suddenly there was a stillness to the crowded square, as if we’d dampened the sound. Nearly all motion stopped. A few people actually turned around and headed quickly in the opposite direction.

“If you were trying to sneak in,” I said, “you failed miserably.”

Vance glanced meaningfully at his guys. Two of them broke off and trotted after the people who had left. Then he turned to me. “You ready, Treena?”

I nodded, even though I wasn’t. Without a thought, I patted the hair covering my Rating.

“Today you’re a beggar,” Vance said with a chuckle, and he smoothed my hair out of my face. His fingers were calloused but gentle, and it sent a tingle down my spine. “If there was ever a time to show your Rating off, it’s now.”

“No one will believe she’s a beggar,” Semias said with a frown. “She looks too clean. Her uniform looks fresh out of the package.”

Vance opened his mouth to argue, but Daymond—the one with the scar—spoke up. “I actually agree with Semias this time. She doesn’t look desperate enough.”

“I’m happy to dirty her up a little,” Semias said, still staring at me. “We want her to look authentic, after all.”

I glared back. “Do. Not. Touch me.”

“Semias,” Vance said quietly. “You and Day sweep the north alley. I’ll contact you when you’re needed.”

“Yes, sir.” Daymond shot me an apologetic look before striding away. Semias just smirked and shuffled after him.

I let out an exasperated breath. “You don’t need to protect me.”

Vance ignored my comment and reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of tiny black devices, then fastened one to his ear. It looked like an earring. “Put this on so we can communicate. I’m staying out of the way, but I’ll be there in seconds if it sounds like you need help. Any questions?”

A million, actually, but few he could answer. I knelt and rubbed my hand in the dirt, then brushed it onto my uniform. “So, I’m supposed to catch a smuggler? Is that all?”

“You can catch
more than one,” he said with a slight smile, “if you’d like. Semias arrested three at his orientation.”

That wasn’t exactly what I’d meant, but it seemed simple enough. “Do I get a weapon or anything?”

“No. You haven’t been trained to use one, and it would be too conspicuous. That’s why I’m listening in. You’ll be fine, though. They won’t hurt you.”

No weapon, no help. My mission was to identify the traitor, and I couldn’t do that unless the guys trusted me, which meant passing this test. If Semias could do it, I could. I hesitated, then stepped up against a shop corner and leaned against the building. Sure enough, a layer of dirt attached itself to my uniform. I rubbed against the wall on all sides like an itchy cat, then nodded in satisfaction. “All right, I’m ready.”

“Good luck.”

It wasn’t long before I stood on the first floor of a high-occupancy apartment building, trying to decide where to start. I chose a random door—plastic, covered in dark fingerprints, and much too thin to provide its owners any sense of security. Everything was the same gray color. I felt an overwhelming urge to find a rag and start scrubbing like a crazy person.

Instead, I tapped on the door, trying to look hunched over and miserable. There was no answer. A mixture of disappointment and relief flooded through my body as I moved on to the next door. No answer. If nobody opened up for me, would I fail the initiation? Or would I just have to do this again another day?

At the sixth door, an eye almost completely covered with mousy gray hair appeared at waist level. “What?” a tiny voice whispered. A child.

“Uh, I—just wanted to know if you have any extra nutrition pills? I’m really hungry.”

The door opened a little wider, and I could see two eyes now. “You talk funny. Like the soldiers.” She—I assumed it was a girl—glanced at my forehead. “’Cept soldiers don’t have the red numbers. Just the green ones. Lemme ask my papa.”

The sharp crack of the door slamming made me jump.

“Treena,” Vance’s voice said over the feed. “You in?”

“Not yet,” I whispered. “Give me a minute.”

“Let me know the second you get inside.”

“I will, I will.”

“Lady,” the kid said through the door. She messed with the knob, and the door swung wide open. The girl couldn’t be more than six years old. “My papa still gots the sickness, you know? But he says you can have one of his pills. They taste gross anyway.” She held the tiny gray pill up for me to see. The material inside was coarse and cheaply made, like the ones Tali used.

Part of me wanted to take it and run away. If this kid was a smuggler, I didn’t want to know. I accepted it, rolling it over in my palm. The outside was a little slimy from her hand, but she beamed up at me with a brilliant smile.

“Thanks, cutie.” I forced a smile and started to turn away.

“Wait,” she said. She leaned forward and whispered, “I have a potato. It smells bad, and it has the white pokey things, but you can have it. I’ll go get it for you.”

The word
no
got caught in my throat as she dashed off again. A potato. We’d done a unit on illegal substances in school, and I knew it was some kind of root-based food. Smugglers grew a lot of them because they were easier to hide from scouting planes.

Food. This girl and her father were smugglers. Or customers, at least. A sick feeling anchored me to the spot, and I felt numb. Could I destroy a family? Could I achieve my goal at the expense of a six-year-old kid? Did I have it in me to send an innocent child to the work camps so I could have my Rating changed? Was it right to take my happiness from someone else?

I suddenly felt nauseated, and I swallowed hard. Of course it was right. I hadn’t written the law—I was just enforcing it. It wasn’t like she’d be harmed, exactly. Just sent elsewhere. Surely the work camps weren’t much worse than living in the Red District.

The girl returned, hands cupped around something small and brown. Her face radiated excitement. “I like it because the white pokeys look sharp, but they’re not. See? It doesn’t even hurt.”

“You can’t give this to me.”

“Yes, I can. Papa said I could use it how I wanted, so you can have it.” She thrust it into my hand and pulled away.

Smugglers were supposed to be evil-looking Integrants, violent and greedy men with scars and tattoos. Not little girls. I slipped the potato into my pocket. “Thank you. You’d better get back to your dad now.”

Footsteps echoed up the stairs behind me, and I turned in surprise. Neb, Ross, Daymond, and Semias appeared out of the dim light and headed toward us. My heart sank into my toes.

“Vance said you needed backup,” Daymond said.

“Your first door, huh?” Neb said. “Not bad.”

Before I could speak, they leaped past me and through the doorway.

“Look out! There’s a—”

It was too late. The shock on the girl’s face turned into horror as the guys nearly ran her over. She hit the wall and fell to the ground. The EPIC guys just stomped past her, weapons up and ready.

“Are you okay?” I reached out to help her, but she stiffened and slapped my hand away. “Don’t touch me. You’re a soldier!”

“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled.

Shouts from deeper inside the apartment told me her father had been discovered. Within seconds, a pale-faced, skinny-figured man was shoved into the hallway, his arms already fastened behind him. He wore a wrinkled, worn uniform that desperately needed washing. “We haven’t done anything wrong,” he insisted, his voice weak. “I have no food here.”

“Daddy,” the girl exclaimed. “I gave her the potato. I didn’t know!”

He glanced at me, and his face went dark.

Suddenly there was a shrill cry from a back room, and then another nearly identical cry. The father groaned. As Neb went in to investigate, the little girl ran to her dad and wrapped herself tightly around his leg. “Daddy, why did they tie your arms again? Daddy, hold me.”

“Twins!” Neb exclaimed, and came out holding two screaming babies wrapped in tattered blankets. One was flailing, and he struggled not to drop it. I started forward to help him.

Semias, who held the father’s elbow, shoved the little girl aside, and she stumbled to the floor. “Someone tie this kid up, will you?”

“Leave my daughters alone,” the father snapped. “They’re innocent. They can stay with a neighbor while I’m gone.”

“You aren’t coming back,” Semias said. “Possession of an illegal substance is punishable with a one-way trip to the work camps. Your kids will be fostered out.”

The father growled and lunged for Semias.

Semias was ready. He stepped aside and shoved the man sideways, slamming him roughly into the wall. With a grunt, the man fell to one knee and struggled to right himself. Before he could blink, Semias had his stunner pointed it at the man’s face. The sickly man breathed hard as the two stared each other down. Their Ratings were only twenty points apart, I noticed.

“Welcome to NORA,” Semias whispered and pulled the trigger. I gasped. The little girl screamed as her father crumpled to the floor. The twins’ wailing rivaled hers in volume and intensity.

Daymond groaned. “Was that necessary, Semias? Now we have to carry the guy.”

I gaped at them in disbelief. I’d never seen someone get stunned before. Semias knelt down and grabbed the girl’s shoulders, wrestling her arms together to bind them. Her sobs had turned into hysterical shrieking.

“Nice try,” Daymond said. “You’re taking the old man. You shoot ’em, you carry ’em. I’ll take the girl.”

Semias grumbled, but he backed away.

“Treena, come get a baby,” Neb said.

I shuddered, stepping over the unconscious man, and took the more upset of the two babies. Her cheeks were wet with tears as she gasped for breath between screams. Pure terror reflected in her dark eyes. I pulled the hole-filled blanket up to cover her again.

“Four at once,” Ross said. “You hold the record now, Treena. Not bad for your first time.”

“Shh,” I told the baby and pulled her close, bouncing to give her some measure of comfort, to stop the crying. “It’ll be okay.”

But the truth was, for this family, things would never be okay again.

><><><><><><

“You sent them in, didn’t you?”

Vance didn’t respond. We watched as the captured family’s transport disappeared into the late-afternoon traffic. The father had been deemed dangerous, which required two monitors to escort them as well as the driver. I was relieved that someone else was taking them to their fate; but I’d almost rather have chosen that above walking home next to Vance.

Something very close to rage surged through my veins. “It wasn’t necessary. I had it all under control.”

He met my gaze. “Under control. That’s what you call it?”

“How do you know I wasn’t playing along? Maybe I was just biding my time.”

“But you weren’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s not what you expected, is it? You thought you’d be catching the bad guys, when really, you
are
the bad guy. And you couldn’t handle that realization.”

My mouth dropped open a little. “Well, technically we’re enforcing the law. That doesn’t make us bad.”

“Technically. But you’re missing the point. There’s one rule in EPIC, Treena, above all else. Until you believe it, you won’t survive here. The law comes before the people—before Integrants, before smugglers, and even before EPIC. We fulfill the job no matter what. That’s the lesson you’re supposed to learn here.”