by Jenn Lyons
Sometimes call happens at lunch, other times in the afternoon. Right now, it is 3am in the morning. The time always changes. Over 1,000 freshly scrubbed faces stand at attention, wearing identical black jumpsuits with no decoration and insignia save for our names, sewn in tiny embroidered stitching around the neck. Each of us, no matter what our marks had been when we first arrived, now wear something like an arrow on our forehead—a caste-mark no other humans on the planet wears, and very few Sarcodinay. We are better than any other humans on the planet, which is why we have to be stronger, smarter, faster—or else.
Penrolyr brings out the new kids. My stomach twists in knots when I look at her. Of all the teachers, she is the worst because I know her best. Because I had trusted Penny, and she had betrayed me. She doesn’t as much as glance in my direction.
The new students look tired. Some yawn openly. They’d learn.
“Students, today you are joined by new brothers and sisters. You will take them in as your family as we have taken in you.” She pauses.
In unison, one thousand students repeat her words. “We will take them in as our family as you have taken in us.”
“All those who are currently without partners, step forward.”
My own partner is in the infirmary with a broken femur, so I stay back. It’s not like she is dead.
“Seris-Kaimer Mallory!” I am startled to hear the teacher snap my name. “I said step forward!”
“But...I have a partner...” As I stutter an excuse I see the look in Penrolyr’s eyes and know that isn’t true. It was a broken femur. She should have survived that...
For my back talking I receive a hard slap that sends me to the ground. Though I can feel blood at my mouth I immediately stand up and bow. I am already used to the abuse. “I am sorry, Vana, it won’t happen again.”
“Get in line,” the Sarcodinay sneers.
I do, and one by one she counts out the new students, sending one with each us of in line. I look ahead and see by the count they will be short on girls. Only the dark-eyed boy is left. Penrolyr sees this too, and hesitates.
“Paul, over with Mallory.” She points to me. The boy, still sleepy, walks over to my side.
I look at him in surprise, and then look up at Penrolyr. “He can’t be my partner! He’s a boy!” As soon as the words leave my mouth I know I’ll suffer for them.
She hits me again, not a slap this time, but a full punch that makes the world tilt crazily until the ground slams into my body. A wave of sharp pain follows as she kicks me. I curl into a small ball, gasping for breath.
Vana-Ten Penrolyr laughs.
“That’s enough, Penrolyr,” I hear a voice cut through the dim haze of pain.
“Vana—?”
“While I agree that she was impudent, the child is also correct. You know it is not customary to partner opposite sexes in humans. They have so little self-control.”
I open my eyes through the pain and tears. A golden-skinned Sarcodinay stands there, dressed in the most ornate clothes I have ever seen.
“They’re still too young for there to be any danger. And I don’t have anyone else to pair him with,” Penrolyr protests.
The man nods. “I suppose it will be an interesting experiment. Very well.” Then he turns his attention to me, his eyes appraising me as if I am a snake that might bite him at any moment.
“Can you stand, Seris?” He asks me with far more consideration than any teacher has shown so far.
I’m not sure if I can, but I’m never going to give Penrolyr the satisfaction of seeing me crippled. I slowly stand up, gritting my teeth against the pain, and nod.
“Get back in line,” he tells me.
I limp back into formation, standing next to the young boy now. “These are your partners,” Penrolyr continues. “You will eat with your partner, train with your partner, study with your partner. If one of you makes a mistake, you both will be punished. If your partner escapes...” At this she specifically glances at my new partner, whether to suggest he will fail me or I will fail him I’m unsure. “...You will be killed. Your life depends on your partner. Theirs depends on you. It is your partner’s responsibility to make sure you understand the rules and do not break them. If the new students are out of line, they will be punished, but their partners will be punished more harshly still. Is this understood?”
“Yes, Vana!” come shouts in unison.
I can feel the fear seeping from the boy standing next to me, lethal blood spilling fast from a mortal wound. There has been no explanations, not really—an order for him to leave the orphanage where he’d been and come here to this horror. A new name, Seris-Kaimer, to replace the one he’d worn since he could talk, duPres. He has no idea what might happen next, but I have already provided an excellent example. He is smart, smarter than most of the others. That’s why he is here, even though he is small.
Without shifting position I reach over and take his hand in mine. He is surprised, then squeezes it tight and holds on.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper, wondering how anything could ever be okay again.
ggg
I cry in the darkness, cry for my parents, cry for my helplessness. I don’t dare let it show where anyone might see and take my tears for weakness, but in the dorm room I can bury my head in my pillow and sob. By silent, mutual agreement, all the children ignore the crying that happens after lights out.
They won’t tell me what had happened to them. They won’t even tell me if they are still alive. I dream of being rescued, that it is all a terrible mistake, that I will lift my head and find everything has been a bad dream. They will come back for me. I don’t have to stay here in this terrible place. All I can think about is how much I hate the Sarcodinay, hate them, hate them, hate them, but I would trade all that hate away to have my parents back again.
I feel a hand on my hair, then arms wrap around me. I sob as Paul tries to comfort me. I finally fall asleep in his arms, the first time in months I’ve felt safe. I wake only when the morning bell rings.
ggg
My throat was raw and my face wet, but I wiped my eyes with the edge of the sheet and pretended I’d survive.
“It’s going to be okay,” Medusa comforted.
“Liar.”
“Only for a good cause. I checked on the connection between Paul and Lorvan: none exist. Nothing that either Cerberus or I can find, although my records are spotty when it comes to high ranking Sarcodinay movements, and his are incomplete when it comes to Intelligence Operations personnel. I did find one thing you might find of interest though.”
I sniffed as I shuffled out of bed and searched for facial tissues. “What’s that?”
“Paul’s records in the Sarcodinay database are as edited as yours. There’s no mention of the Kaimer School at all.”
“I guess I’m not really surprised. If we’d graduated, we probably both would have ended up with cover identities and fake castes. The school wasn’t supposed to exist, after all, and towards the end things became a bit embarrassing for the Sarcodinay. The shocking part would have been if you had found any information.”
“I noticed you forgot to mention the school to the MOJ detective,” Medusa sniffed delicately.
“I didn’t forget.”
I showered, brushed my teeth and performed all the normal rituals of hygiene mechanically. I routed through my bags and discovered that most of my clothes were either uniforms it would be inappropriate to wear with my current shaky status or else in desperate need of cleaning. I almost put the clothes that MOJ had given me back on, but they were never designed to be durable and it seemed they’d come to a foul end during last night’s bartending shenanigans. I compromised with my old work clothes: a black high-necked shirt and low-slung athletic pants, black combat boots, an armored vest. Everything was black, and this once, that knowledge gave me no joy. I threw a shifting fringe shawl of teal and green over the rest just so I’d be wearing something that was a different color.
I strapped o
n my vambraces, which looked like nothing more than elaborate jewelry to the uninitiated, and a vid unit onto my arms. I slipped my web gloves back on. The three ceramic daggers went into a sheath at the small of my back. The pistol fit neatly into an underarm holster hidden by the fringe. Medusa’s pectoral fit on top, where it looked like a fashion statement rather than a necessity. If my hair were longer, anyone could be forgiven for thinking I was a scholar caste trying to look serious, instead of a League agent armed for a war. I debated stopping by a beauty store and buying extensions, or stopping by the Aegis to pull one of my wigs out of storage. I wished for the thousandth time that I had the materials to build a cloud suit.
“You’re not going on vacation, are you?”
“Well I’m not on official assignment and I’m doing what I want rather than what I’ve been ordered, so I think that meets the qualifications of a vacation.”
“But you’re not going to go to Keepers’ Island, talk to Alexander Rhodes, and then lay back on a beach, are you?”
“Maybe when this is over. Ask Cerberus to look something up for me, would you?”
“What?”
“Those two Sarcodinay bodyguards with Lorvan. What ship did they come off of? I know MOJ keeps a video record of every landing.”
“Let me transfer his response.”
The good part about being a cynic is that you’re usually right.
Unsurprisingly, that’s the bad part too.
She showed me a view of the FirstCity landing bay and confirmed all my