The Killing Jar (9 page)

SUBTERRANEAN CHICAGO, NORTH AMERICA

AUGUST 7, 2232

An hour into the pitch black tunnel network, Hadley had sobered. She was never this quiet.

“Just a little more, then we’ll break for the access port off Water Street. Just a few blocks after that.” Mable’s fingertips skimmed the stone walls mere steps behind Hadley. Even in the total dark, she couldn’t turn her back to the girl.

“What’s up with you?” Mable finally asked. If Hadley was going to have some sort of breakdown, she’d rather it be in the tunnels.

“Nothing.”

“Hadley Wallace.”

“Is it really that dangerous?” she asked. Her steps slowed.

“It can be. There are always Collectors looking to remove Untouchables from beneath the cities.”

“But we’re not that. We don’t do drugs or steal or live in garbage.”

“They don’t know the difference. They don’t want to see the difference. If you aren’t one of them, you’re Untouchable.” It had taken Mable a year to figure out the hard truth of it.

“What if someone recognizes me?” Hadley finally asked, addressing the fear that grew with each passing moment. While she would never admit it, Mable knew Hadley longed for the home she once had but never could again.

“They won’t. There’s few enough out after curfew. And we’re practically invisible,” she added.

“But what if they do?”

“They won’t. And if they do, so what? They sent us away, remember? It was their choice, not ours.” Mable suffered no small amount of resentment at being outcast—or defecting as it was called these days—but time outside society had given her time to reflect, to see its cracks and crookedness.

Hadley was one of those that fell through the cracks.

It broke Mable’s heart.

She didn’t need light to know the fifteen-year old was afraid of the society that had so brutally cast her out. The hour they would spend on the surface would bring up painful memories—for both of them.

Mable was tempted to take her home, back to the security of the Root. As much as she struggled with what to do with Rowen, Mable had no doubt he would look after Hadley while she completed the job on her own—if for no other reason than Mable wanted it.

But if Hadley would have a future in any city, she would need a skill. And this was the only skill Mable could teach her.

Hadley would just have to deal.

The two teens walked for another half hour as the tunnel cooled. Mable’s arms prickled with chill though Hadley never said a word.

Maybe she was too worried.

At last, the tunnel’s end arrived. Mable felt for the button that would signal the restaurant owner. The thin beam of light appeared, spreading to a space large enough for a person to pass through.

Shielding their eyes, Mable and then Hadley stepped into the back office of Jean Carlo’s Italian, one of the oldest restaurants in the city. Arturo himself, the great-great grandson of the original owner, sat in his desk chair grinning.

“Ah, my darling—” he said with outstretched arms.

Mable leaned in for a hug and kissed his cheek as always.

“Who’s this?” Arturo asked when he noticed Hadley, and for good reason. He would join them in the underground if it was ever learned he aided them in any way.

“Hadley. I’m showing her the ropes.” Mable motioned the girl closer, out of the opening and within arm’s reach of the first person she’d seen above ground since defecting.

“She’s lovely.” Arturo’s warm smile was contagious as he stood and squeezed her against her chest like a father would a daughter. A grandfather of nine and lifelong restauranteur, Arturo had a way with people, especially with children. Not even Hadley could resist.

“Welcome to Jean Carlo’s, my dear. I hope you’ll come see us when you can.”

She smiled and whispered, “Thank you.”

“We’ll be back within the hour. Back door again?” The last thing Mable wanted was to endanger one of their few allies on the surface.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Anything for you.”

Arturo was one of Mable’s favorite living humans, in a narrow group with Rowen and Hadley herself. There was almost nothing she wouldn’t do to protect him. Or any of them.

Mable kissed his cheek again and led Hadley through the door and into the alley.

No sooner had the door shut behind them than two black-uniformed Collectors emerged from the shadows.

Mable ran for the first, striking his face easily with her fist. After so many matches with Rowen in the dark, having the scant rays from a streetlight was more than enough to land a heavy blow.

The Collector dropped to the ground, his hand on his cheek.

It was then Mable heard the scream.

The second already had Hadley by the arm, twisting it painfully behind her back.

“Run!” Hadley shouted through gritted teeth, her shrieks renewed when he twisted her arm still further.

Mable didn’t move.

The fallen Collector regained his footing and arrived behind her to twist her arm as well, the standard disarmament procedure, as Rowen had told her.

She could get out of it. She could spin the Collector so fast he would black out from the impact and give her a chance to run. She’d done it before.

But not this time.

Now there was Hadley. They had chosen the perfect pressure point.

Rings of metal were secured around her wrists. “You are under arrest for curfew violation, code 631.1,” said the Collector robotically, his voice so monotone she wondered if he weren’t some kind of new-age drone.

But no. He was just a human drone.

LANCASTER CENTRAL HALL, LANCASTER, NORTH AMERICA

AUGUST 7, 2232

“Congratulations,” Dr. Masry said as she entered the viewing room. The six-foot tall woman with sleek black hair and a pressed azure pantsuit held the attention of every person in the room. She spoke quietly, without the exuberant speeches and ‘great society’ nonsense, but as the leader of their class, she didn’t need such antics. She had clout and presence enough.

“Thirteen bright new minds to join our elite class. I look forward to your contributions to our future.” She said the words but her perfect features looked bored. Theo realized it hadn’t been her choice to attend the ceremony. Probably yet another part of her vicereine duties.

“As you all should be aware, we have very specific procedures during your introductory period. You will be outfitted with your body suit, apply for mentors, and select an area of study. If you all will please follow me.”

Dr. Masry opened the door and proceeded down the hall without looking to see who followed, though of course they all did, a band of ducklings following their mother.

None of them said a word for the twenty minutes it took to walk to the Scholar Academy a few blocks away; their home for the next five years. The conical building shimmered with the simulated afternoon sun, at least, what they imagined it to be. No one had seen the sun from Lancaster, Pennsylvania in a century.

Theo still sweated under the black robes and blue cords.

At the glass doors bearing the Scholar emblem, Dr. Masry pressed her slender hand to the scanner. The doors slid apart and revealed a cavernous lobby area where a man and woman waited.

“Scholars, may I introduce Dr. Suzanne Winters and Dr. Andrew Barron, who will be responsible for you until such a time as you secure a mentor. They will escort you through your initial proceedings. Fair well, young Scholars.” Dr. Masry tipped her head at the group before heading off down one of the dozen corridors leading out of the central area.

Dr. Winters spoke first. “Ladies, please follow me.” The five new female Scholars fell into line behind her and disappeared down a corridor.

“All right, fellows. You’re with me.” Dr. Barron led them to the corridor third from the right. Theo saw no labels or signage to differentiate one from another. Still, he followed, resigned to his fate.

Dr. Barron stopped at one of the many unlabeled doors and motioned them forward. They found a wall of plain white lockers and a series of curtained off rooms. “Go ahead and grab your suit, lockers list the sizes on the front. Get changed and bring your clothes back to the container here.” He pointed to a large black bin with the torch icon for the incinerator.

They did as they were told, each too afraid or nervous or shy. The Scholar lifestyle was about devotion to your discipline and nothing else. It was far too early to jeopardize their careers. Each followed the instructions to the letter.

Even Isaac completed the tasks in silence. Already Theo missed Nate.

The large indigo suit fit much like the wetsuit provided in the Aquatic Science course at LCH. Theo’s broad shoulders were a little tight, but otherwise it was comfortable enough.

Theo tucked his wristlet under the suit where he could wear it inconspicuously. He didn’t want to explain why he wouldn’t let it be burned along with the rest of his things.

One by one, they emerged from the changing rooms in their identical suits. “All right, this way,” Barron led them further down the hall. Theo felt like a cow headed for slaughter.

The next room held eight Craftsmen, each standing behind a slim cosmetology chair. “Go on and have a seat.” Theo and his fellow Scholars each sat, Theo more despondent than the others. He had thoroughly enjoyed his shoulder-length hair, and while he had known he would be required to remove it after his Selection, it made the transition no less difficult.

He was supposed to be here with Nate. They had talked countless times about cutting their hair today, in this moment, only Nate wasn’t here. Theo felt the first shards of abandonment.

Without a word, the young Craftsman behind the chair took clippers to his head and shaved it clean. His dark locks cascaded to the floor. When she offered him a mirror, Theo hardly recognized his reflection.

His head was smooth, the skin on top lighter than that on his face. His features stood out vividly, his grey eyes like pools.

It was done.

Theo pushed away from the chair and found his position against the wall to wait for the others.

“Hey, looks good,” Isaac offered when he too was shaved clean.

“Thanks, you too,” Theo replied, though he didn’t mean it. Isaac looked like an infant. Theo wondered if he looked that bad as well.

“When do you think we get to go back to Lanc Central? I have all my stuff in a locker. My tablet, my pod keys.”

“I’m not sure.”

Soon enough, the eight males were brought to a small auditorium to wait, though they were never told why. An hour later, the five females entered, each with uniform straight hair pulled back in a bun.

Theo would have expected to see fallen features, but none of them seemed all that affected by the change in appearance. Then again, they had all chosen this life.

Dr. Winters arrived behind them and took her position at the front of the room to begin the standard address. She was tall and slender, her nose pointed as was her chin. Behind her, the Scholar logo hovered via holographic projection.

“Today, you have all made the honorable decision to join the elite class of Scholars. In a few minutes, you will be escorted to your barracks where you will live until such time as you have secured a mentor.”

The holograph changed to show a spreadsheet of names. “Once in your barracks, you will be assigned a tablet. You will be given six months to identify an area of interest. Then you will be eligible to apply for a mentor. You have one year to secure a mentor or you will be released from the Scholar class.” The already quiet room fell silent, as if the entire group stopped breathing. They had all known what was at stake, but now that they were here, it felt more real.

“With the guidance of your mentor, you will complete five years of study before you can apply to the Scholar Committee to perform your own research. Once approved, you will be eligible to apply for grants to fund your research. If you fail to secure funding, you will be released.”

Theo swallowed hard. Was he capable of all that?

Oblivious to her intimidated audience, Dr. Winters continued. “Upon completion of your third year in the Scholar Academy, you will be invited to apply for marriage. The Scholar Committee will determine the likelihood of your success based on genetic compatibility. The state of your research and funding will dictate the timeline upon which you will be allowed to apply for Child Permits.”

Of all the rules and regulations of the Scholar class, Theo’s future children were the only facet that genuinely interested him. The marriage he knew would be dry, like his parents rather than Nate and Casey. But the children, they would be genetically perfect, they would be even better than him. Theo was excited to see his genes carried on to his children.

It would just be an eternal wait before that happened.

While lost in thought, Dr. Winters finished her presentation and motioned for Dr. Barron to escort them to the barracks.

“So what’s your field of interest?” Isaac asked one of the girls as they walked.

“Robotics,” she replied with a giggle.

“Yeah? I’m genetics. Theo here is nanotech.” Theo couldn’t imagine why he was being dragged into the conversation. He didn’t really care. There was no point in getting to know any of them. It would never be about personality.

“Genetics? Wow.” The girl he remembered as Beth from a class, looked up at Isaac with consideration. It wasn’t every day you met someone who would be so successful.

Then to Theo, she said, “You knew Nathaniel, right? I can’t believe he defected. Did you know he would?”

“No.” Theo rubbed his now-bare head. He should have known Nate’s decision would be the talk of the group. It wasn’t like Youths defected every day. Still, he didn’t want to talk about it.

Theo was grateful to arrive in the barracks a few minutes later. It was far down the corridor from the auditorium, but everything in the Academy was connected. They wouldn’t even leave the building until their research required them to do so.

Despite the reasonable accommodations, Theo felt trapped, an animal in a too-small cage. The males were given beds on the left side and females on the right. A wide indigo curtain separated the two. Dr. Barron pushed it to the far wall to create a large space and give their instructions.

“Your beds are assigned alphabetically starting here at the front. Washrooms are separated by gender. Your tablets are on your beds and have already been coded with your information. I suggest you complete set up and get yourselves entered in the database. The sooner you find a mentor, the sooner you can start your studies. Any questions?”

Isaac was the only one to answer. “Yeah, when can we go back to Lanc Central and get our stuff?”

“There’s nothing that you need that isn’t provided by the Academy.”

Isaac’s features fell. Clearly there was something on the tablet that he wanted. Or the keys to his pod.

Never in his life had Theo been so thankful to have converted to the wristlet. While the entire population was a slave to their tablets, Theo had rigged the wristlet to be a more portable extension. It had taken his development of a microscopic relay to get information to travel between the two devices.

That didn’t help him make contact with Nate. He sent a half dozen ecomms, both from his wristlet and his new tablet. There was so much he wanted to say. He was angry and hurt, but happy for them and in awe of Nate’s bravery. His head was a confusing mess.

Theo turned on his audio strips and listened to his mellowest playlist in hopes of staying calm as he waited.

Nate never responded.