Recompense (Recompense, book 1)

by Michelle Isenhoff

  “Thanks, Ernie,” I said, and I meant it. “Congratulations.”

  His nod of acknowledgment was humble. He cleared the time by half a second and knew well that he could just as easily have been in my shoes but for two or three well-placed steps. I’m truly happy for him, and equally impressed with his classy comportment. On a normal year, he would have gained all the publicity for himself. But he’s not at all jealous of sharing the limelight with Will, of finishing every event in his shadow. I’m glad he’ll be accompanying Will to Macron City.

  Councilman Sweeny has stopped talking and begins to call us forward one at a time to receive our diplomas. With only twenty-three graduates, it doesn’t take long before I stand before the podium. I force a smile and shake the principal’s hand. Then I’m back in my chair. Now awards are being passed out. I have gained top honors in my class. I’ve also scored the highest on the written half of the Examination. I can see Miss Whaley clapping in the front row with the teachers, the smile on her face as wide as a barn. I stand woodenly to accept my certificates.

  When awards are finished, a giant screen unfurls from the ceiling and the auditorium grows dark. Governor Macron’s face flickers to life. At this exact moment, the same thing is happening at every graduation ceremony in every school in Capernica, though probably on newer technology.

  With every eye in the nation focused on her, the governor smiles. She must be older than Opal, already an adult when the Provocation and Recompense occurred nearly fifty years ago, but she doesn’t look it. Her form is straight, her hair a pale auburn, her face nearly unlined. She hasn’t experienced the same kind of hardships that scribed their mark on Opal. But she has dedicated her life to helping the nation recover and has done her best to protect us from future attacks, all while accepting only a modest salary and declining to even deem herself president. The old-timers adore her. Now, as she delivers her annual address, her face is kind and her eyes sincere.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and brand-new graduates.” She pauses so her audience can applaud, and we do. But fresh off my recent failure, I feel the first twinge of bitterness toward her over the system she has devised. “I want to extend my most sincere congratulations all across this great land to the young men and women we are honoring tonight. It is no easy task to complete thirteen years of study in one of the finest educational systems in the world. To have done so speaks of your diligence and hard work. I have no doubt each one of you will go on to find fulfillment and satisfaction in your chosen fields of work.”

  I snort softly and wonder how long it’s been since she’s ventured into the settlements and seen the opportunities we have to choose from.

  “From the lowest laborers to the highest ranks of the Military, you are all necessary, all pieces of a whole. Together we make Capernica great. I salute each and every one of you.”

  She pauses again and the audience fills in with more applause.

  “Now, however, it is time to honor those who have gone above and beyond. Those who have trained their bodies as well as their minds. Those who have risen above their fellows and accomplished the most difficult of all feats. Those who have chosen to devote their lives to keeping our great nation safe. Before they are introduced individually in each of their respective communities, join me in honoring the fine men and women who make up this year’s class of Military Initiates.”

  This time the room erupts in applause. The vast majority of Initiates come from the cities. Settlement 56 so rarely has even one, but this year they have two, along with a fine bit of drama to boot. They all want to partake in this moment of community pride. My face heats and I look at my feet as the applause goes on and on.

  I had so wanted some of that to be for me.

  Finally the governor speaks her usual closing line and the noise fades abruptly. “I thank you all for your service to Capernica.”

  The screen goes dark. The room falls silent. I peek over at Will sitting across the aisle and find his eyes on me. He smiles lightly, but it doesn’t lift his sadness. I wonder how long he has been studying me.

  Councilman Sweeny takes the stage again, his dour face crinkling upward into what is supposed to pass for a smile. “It is my pleasure to announce Settlement 56’s two Initiates, Will Ransom and Ernie Cant.”

  Will breaks eye contact as he and Ernie rise to accept plaques engraved with their names. The room leaps to its feet, including the graduates on the stage. I stand and clap with them. It is a great accomplishment, and I want to honor both Ernie and Will, but each strike of my hands echoes hollowly in my heart.

  Some official I don’t recognize takes a picture of Councilman Sweeny with Will and Ernie, one last round of applause erupts through the gymnasium, and the ceremony finally reaches its conclusion. I step off the stage with my classmates, and there’s a great mingling on the gymnasium floor as our families rush forward to embrace us.

  Opal reaches me first. “I’m so proud of you, Jack,” she whispers, cupping my cheeks in her gnarled hands. Her face is a wreath of happy wrinkles. “You don’t have one thing to be ashamed of.”

  I smile in response, but it hits my face weakly, lacking the force of one thrust upward from the heart. I accept hugs from Ollie and Tillman, and then Hoke charges into my legs full force, knocking me into Will, who has come up behind me with his family. Will scoops Hoke into his arms and flips him upside down, causing the little boy to contort in a fit of giggles.

  “Congratulations, Jack,” Elise says, kissing me on the cheek. Will’s mother smells like chicory and wool. “Those were no small honors you took tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  Both of Will’s brothers shake my hand, and Hayden gives me a one-armed squeeze. “Nice work, kiddo.” Then we stand in awkward silence, not sure what else to say. The usual questions about upcoming employment seem inadequate in light of recent events. Only Hoke’s continuing laughter rises from our little huddle of bodies.

  Councilman Sweeny approaches with his smarmy smile and shakes hands all around. “Ah, the proud families of our two top students. We’re all very proud.” He surprises me with an unsealed envelope. I open it as he continues schmoozing with Opal and the Ransoms and pull out a single page containing two lines of neat print. Urgent: please send Jaclyn Holloway to the school office immediately following the conclusion of the graduation ceremony.

  I glance at Councilman Sweeny. “What’s this about?”

  He shrugs. “I have no idea.”

  “What is it, dear?” Opal asks.

  I hold up the note so she and Elise can see it. Will peeks at it over his mother’s shoulder.

  Opal sends me toward the door with a weak shove. “Best go find out what it means.”

  Will meets my eye with one eyebrow cocked. Do I want him to go with me? I shake my head. I can handle it alone. Our silent exchange has gone unnoted by the others. With a final shrug, I leave our group and weave through the clutter of bodies until I reach the gymnasium door.

  The cool air of the hallway soothes my overheated body and offers relief from the mob of well-wishers. Welcome relief. My footsteps squeak on the tile floor and echo off the blank walls. Without the crush of students, the school has a lonely, abandoned atmosphere. I enter the administration office to find it empty, but a voice and light emanate from the principal’s private room. “Please come in, Miss Holloway.”

  I enter to find an older gentleman sitting behind the principal’s desk. His hair was once dark but has faded mostly to white, leaving it a mingled salt and pepper. Wire-rimmed glasses perch on his nose. He smiles at me. “Please close the door.”

  I do. Then I sit in the single seat that has been placed opposite the desk, apparently for me.

  He folds his hands on the desk. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Holloway.”

  “Jack,” I say.

  “Very well. You may call me Willoughby. Everyone else does.”

  “Who are you?”

  His smile is bland.
“That could take some time to answer fully. Suffice it to say I represent a group called Axis.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “No, it is unlikely you have. We remain outside the public eye. However, you are quite well-known to us.” Willoughby stands up and walks around the desk, leaning his backside against it. His face is marked with years, but his body is trim and muscular, garbed in a tailored gray suitcoat and black trousers. “I am here to offer you a job opportunity.”

  My eyes narrow. “Are you from the lumber mill?”

  “No.”

  “The cannery?” There are no other employers in 56.

  Amusement lights his gray eyes. “Do I look like someone from the cannery?”

  “No.”

  “As I said, I represent a group called Axis. Before I explain further, I must ask that you keep what we discuss confidential, as it pertains to matters of some delicacy.”

  “Is this regarding my Examination scores? Perhaps you misunderstood them. I didn’t actually qualify as an Initiate.”

  “We are well aware of your scores on both the written half and on each of the physical tests. They are quite satisfactory.”

  “So you can’t be Military.”

  “No, Axis operates independently.”

  I consider his words, my eyes tightened into thin slits, before I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. “All right. I’m thoroughly confused.”

  He smiles again and walks back around the desk to his seat. “If I have your word that you will not share the particulars of our conversation, I will explain in full.”

  “Done.”

  “Very well.” Willoughby leans forward expectantly. “Axis is a watchdog organization that works closely with the government on matters of national security. We monitor foreign terrorists, domestic criminals, and other similar matters of interest. We are primarily investigative in nature.”

  “What would I be doing?”

  “That remains to be seen. I can tell you that you will live on-site at our base and undergo our training program. We’ll judge your strengths and weaknesses and go from there. But at some point, it could very well involve bodily risk.”

  My eyebrows rise yet again. This entire proposal makes no sense. It’s not one of those rare but high-profile cases where a large private company secures some genius graduate. This is far more obscure—and unprecedented in Settlement 56. “So why me?”

  “Because we have been watching you for several years. You came to our attention during your tenure with Children’s Domestic Services, where you displayed many of the character traits we require.”

  My doubts have only deepened. They’ve been watching me since my years in the CDS system? It’s an unsettling thought. And what traits besides fighting and running away have they admired? I find my trust in Willoughby fading rapidly.

  “Why should I join Axis?” I ask. “Exactly what’s in this for me?”

  “We can offer you and your family the same benefits as Military.”

  My body locks in place. My eyes burn into his. Hope blossoms in my chest. “Will.” The whisper springs from my lips involuntarily.

  “The same benefits save one. Axis has no authority to circumvent Military requirements.”

  “Is there a chance I could see him?” I hate how desperate my words sound.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to set that hope aside. Axis wants you for what you can bring to our organization, not to pair you up with some brute soldier to make more little brute soldiers. Our objectives are far more intricate.”

  Hope seeps out of my body, leaving me a puddle on the chair. There will be no miracle. I have truly lost Will.

  “However, we are prepared to offer you a considerable salary.”

  Opal’s seamed face appears in my mind, along with Ollie, Tillman, and Hoke. Even in my dejection, my ears twitch. “How much?”

  “Enough to ensure your family remains quite comfortable in your absence. But there is one catch.”

  I hitch an eyebrow upward.

  “No one may know of your involvement with us. Axis requires complete secrecy.”

  “Not even my family?”

  “They need only know that you will be employed in a government position. Your high marks make this feasible, even without Military rank. However, they cannot know in what capacity you will be working for us.”

  I don’t even know in what capacity I will be working. The intrigue sets me on edge, but Willoughby may be offering me my only chance at redemption. I’m quiet for two full minutes. “May I have an evening to think about this?”

  “That is a wise request, and one I can honor.” He writes something on a small piece of paper and shoves it across the desk at me. It is a business card that says simply Axis beside a symbol of a globe with a sword thrust through its poles and a hand-scrawled telephone number. “Call me from Councilman Sweeny’s house tomorrow by the end of the day with your answer.”

  I take the card. Then Willoughby rises and ushers me to the door. “Think long and hard, Jack. This opportunity will present itself exactly once.”

  FIVE

  Opal and Will sit with me at Opal’s kitchen table. The kids have gone to bed, and the room has softened to the hazy indistinctness of twilight. The oil lamp in the center of the table gives our faces a stark white contrast, and I can see on both of theirs the thoughtful concern that must also shadow mine. I have told them a bleached-out version of Willoughby’s offer—that I have been offered a benign government position with a generous salary. I do not mention the name Axis or the work they do or the risk my participation may involve. I say only that I would be relocated.

  “I don’t see why you shouldn’t take the job, Jack,” Opal says. “It sounds to me like you’ve been given an incredible opportunity.”

  “It’s more than I could have hoped for this morning.” I can’t disguise the sorrow that has been my companion since the moments following my race.

  “If you stay, you have only the cannery to look forward to.”

  She’s right. The settlement offers me only decades of drudgery. I know I really don’t have a choice, that this meeting I have called is not so much a decision-making council but the delay of an inevitable outcome. They know it too.

  “Where will you be moving?” Will asks.

  “Willoughby didn’t say. A city, most likely.” There’s comfort in knowing someone’s location when you’re apart, but neither Will nor I will have that luxury. While he will start his training at the Macron City Military Campus, the official headquarters and training base known unilaterally as Macron, even family aren’t always told where missions will take their sons and daughters. And my assignment? Who knows?

  “It’s settled then,” Opal says, pushing upward from the table. “You’ll go down to the Sweenys’ and call this man in the morning.” Her words sound confident, but there is a glint of something in her eyes. Something I can’t quite identify.

  She smiles and it is gone, but the lift of her cheeks costs her something. She will feel this separation every bit as keenly as I will. She pats my hand. “Don’t stay up too late.”

  Will and I remain seated at the table, listening to the groans of protest from the floor of Opal’s room as she readies herself for bed. It is a sound that has become so familiar that I hardly even hear it anymore. But I know I’ll miss the creaks, the broken step, the little things that have made this cabin home for the past eight years. It’s a home I nearly missed.

  I remember back to my very first evening at Opal’s, the night I almost ran away. I did run away. I just didn’t get very far. It was shortly after my trial. I had just made a long journey from the mountains to completely foreign terrain, and my distrust of people was at its all-time high. As soon as Opal showed me to my room, I went straight out the window and hid in the Ransoms’ cowshed.

  That evening, Will went out to milk their single heifer, and there I was in the corner of the shed, scrawny, dirty, shaking like a newborn colt. He seemed to under
stand instinctively that I’d bolt if he came near, so he just fed the cow her dinner, settled on his stool, and started milking. After a few minutes, his voice came drifting out from the cow’s flank. “You must be Opal’s new girl. Heard she was getting another. You got a name?” He glanced over at me.

  I cringed deeper into my corner.

  “Reckon I’d be scared too, alone in a new place.”

  He didn’t say anything more till he was finished, but those few words served to lower my guard. I just watched him, noting his efficient movements and the gentleness with which he treated that cow. She didn’t mind his presence in the least. I guess I finally figured if she could trust him, maybe I could too.

  He set the bucket of milk down by the door. I thought he was going to leave me there like some stray animal and let me find my way home—or wherever else I took it in my head to run—but he found a tin cup, dipped it in the bucket, and carried it over to my corner. Then he sat down next to me, about three feet away, and held that cup out across the distance. That’s when I got my first good look at him.

  He was about my age but fully twice my weight, with dark hair that flopped over the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. They held a warmth that had been virtually nonexistent in my personal experiences. I eyed him warily, but I took the milk, half-starved as I was, and it was the best thing I’d ever tasted. Warm. Creamy. It went down in four seconds.

  His eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. “Want another?”

  I nodded.

  He filled the cup for me three more times, till my belly was the roundest it had been in weeks. Still he didn’t leave. He just sat with me on that filthy floor until a woman’s voice called out, “Will, where are you? I need that milk.”

  He rose then, apologetically it seemed to me, and picked up the pail. My whisper stopped him at the door.