The Acceptance (The GEOs Book 1)

by Ramona Finn

  Viv’s living quarters were just three down from my own—one of the reasons we’d been friends for so long. The convenience of having a playmate almost next door had basically guaranteed we’d be inseparable, at least in the first few years we’d known each other. Things had changed some since graduation, though not totally. Viv had started hanging out with a rowdier crowd. A crowd I didn’t feel like I quite belonged in. My dad said drifting apart was just part of growing up, but I hoped he was wrong.

  Viv still made a point to try and include me, too; even if what she had going on was something she knew I wasn’t interested in, she always invited me along. I appreciated that about her. And there was nobody in the Geos who I was closer to, outside of my mom and dad.

  I knocked on the steel doors of her house. No response. Guessing she was in bed, I knocked one more time before entering the code for her front door into the keypad on the wall. We weren’t supposed to share codes with anyone who wasn’t family, to avoid things like theft or assault, but kids still did it, regardless, and the Farrows didn’t seem to think it was an offense worth punishing. Viv and I had traded codes long ago, and it was lucky for me that nobody seemed to care, because I’d probably keyed into her home more times than I had fingers on my hands—a dozen times over.

  The doors opened with a woosh. The house was dark and quiet. Viv lay in the main living area on a red couch. Her head was tilted back, and her mouth was wide open in a way that would have made her look dead if she hadn’t been letting out a series of wall-shaking snores. The scene was so comical that I couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

  “What time is it? How long have I been asleep?” She yawned as she sat up, swaying slightly and holding her hand to her temple as she squinted at a digital clock on the wall. “Geez, Ty, shift’s not even over yet. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to check on you.”

  “Oh,” she muttered, apparently surprised.

  I pulled a chair from the dining area and sat across from her, scooting her light metal coffee table toward her until she could easily reach it before pulling the jack set out of my pocket. Viv smiled as I handed her the rubber ball. She bounced it once and her hand swooped toward the jacks, missing by a mile and sending her palm back to her temple in a way that told me this had been a bad idea. The corners of her lips turned downward as she tried again. She had a competitive streak.

  On the third try, she threw the ball at the jacks in frustration and slumped into the couch with her eyes closed.

  “Sorry,” I offered, keeping my voice low. “I thought maybe you’d be up for it, since it was low-key.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, but I knew it wasn’t. Viv wasn’t just competitive—she was a ball of pressurized energy. Being stuck on her couch had to be driving her nuts. “This sucks,” she said.

  “At least you get a break from work,” I offered. “I had to do a visual check in the Growing Room today.”

  Viv wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Gross. Hey, did you run into that one kid? The one who fell into the vat?”

  I cringed inwardly. Of course, that would be the first thing Viv brought up. Three years ago, during job training, Kev had fallen into one of the water vats during a student tour. No one in our grade had let him forget it, either.

  “I swear that boy has a thing for you,” she teased.

  “Ew, Kev? No. Gross, Viv.” I’d felt guilty before the words had left my mouth, but I couldn’t help myself. Everyone knew we’d hung out when we’d been younger, but even Viv didn’t know we still talked. Admitting I was friends with a farmer would have been social suicide.

  “And, yeah, I ran into him. The error was in his section. It was no big deal, though.”

  “So, how did you get out of your shift today?”

  “Logged myself out on a family emergency and told them I was bringing you lunch,” I said, producing her lunch from one of the inside pockets of my coat.

  Viv reached over the table, taking the box of greens with a nod of thanks. “Thanks. I was too tired to think about going out.”

  “Yeah, I better get going so you can rest.” I stood, glancing at the clock. There was plenty of time before curfew, of course, but I had rations to trade for.

  “Yeah, sure.” Viv didn’t seem offended as she half-reclined backward and started in on her lunch. “Thanks for checking on me, Ty.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I didn’t run into the ragtags this time. Actually, as I wandered through the upper Geos, I marveled at how deserted the area seemed. I hoped that the girls Wallace had scared off last time had spread the word that I was off-limits.

  I stopped when the corridor came to a T. This was farther than I’d gone last time, and I had no desire to get lost in the concrete maze. I bit my lip, shifting my weight from one foot to the other impatiently. Where was he? Maybe he didn’t think I would show up again so soon. Or worse, maybe he’d never meant to meet me to begin with, and would be avoiding me now. Maybe this was all a big joke, and he was off somewhere with the ragtags, laughing at me.

  “Looking for someone?”

  I jumped, cutting off my squeal of surprise a little too late as I spun to face Wallace.

  “You scared me!”

  “Good,” he harrumphed. “What did you bring to trade?

  I reached into the hidden pockets in my jacket, pulling out the rations I’d managed to smuggle, trade, and steal. Some dried jerky, day-old roast, and a little over a day’s worth of greens.

  Wallace frowned. “That’s it? I thought Nari would have chosen better.”

  My heart sank. “I did my best,” I stammered. Really, I’d thought he’d be impressed by the offerings. So much for that thought.

  “If that’s your best, you have bigger problems than my herbs can cure.”

  “I traded all the yen I’d been saving. For a year! It has to be enough… please?”

  “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, girl. I know how rank goes in the Geos! You’re a coder, so you can afford more.”

  “Please,” I begged him. “Nari knew I couldn’t spare anything, and she sent me anyway.”

  “Lies.” He waved me off and turned as if to leave. “I don’t have time for liars and cheats, girl, and I don’t like people who play games. I trade fair, and I expect your lot to, as well.”

  “Stop! Please don’t go!” I couldn’t believe he could hear the desperation in my voice and see it as anything other than genuine. “I have no other way to help my mom. Not without…”

  “Without what?” I could see that I’d piqued his interest. He’d turned back to me again, pausing to hear what I’d say, and I examined his face, which was leathery and worn, framed by a scraggly white beard and hair. The cracks in the canvas of his face told the story of a long, hard life. But the crows’ feet at the corners of his eyes also hinted at moments of significant joy. For a moment, I thought I saw a hint of amusement in his eyes as he waited for my reply.

  “Let’s just say my other options aren’t great, okay?”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked me over. He didn’t seem to have any qualms about the length of time he took to decide my fate. Finally, he broke the silence. “Follow me.” And with that, he turned and shuffled down the hall to our left.

  “Where are we going?” I asked after a few minutes spent following him. He didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder, let alone respond. I hesitated. What if he had no intention of trading? What if it was a trap? Still, I held out hope that Nari’s vow to “do no harm” extended this far from the Geos. Wallace had to mean me no harm—he was my only choice.

  He moved through the darkness of the old tunnels with ease, slowing only to make sure I was keeping pace. Ruins were scattered through the wings, hinting at what they had been in the early days. First, we passed an area full of wire remnants, most of which had been searched through and stripped, leaving only frayed scraps along the floor. Now and then, a stray letter key would crunch under my feet. This had been the coders’ wing.
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  “Keep up,” he barked when I began to fall behind. “No time for exploring.”

  “In the old days, we worked where we lived,” he said as we came to a door. “None of those fancy separate homes they dug out for your lot in the lower levels.”

  How long had he been living up here on his own? The lower level had been built before I was born, and the prospect of anything beyond that just felt ancient. As Wallace pried open the door to his home, the sound of the rusted metal door creaking in its track only served to amplify the feeling.

  My eyes wandered around the one-room home. There were patched holes in the wall where terminals and appliances had once been, and an elevated cot that was covered in ratty blankets. Metal counters obviously salvaged from other areas of this level lined the back wall, adorned with small planters. Behind them was a series of full spectrum lights he’d salvaged from an old growing room.

  I stepped forward to take a closer look.

  “Yeah, I suppose it’s not much to your view, but I have most of what I need.”

  I crept closer, marveling at the way he had things planted. It was nothing like the hydro systems we used. In fact…

  “Is that dirt?” I reached a hand out cautiously.

  “It is.”

  “These plants, they’re not like what Farrow Corp grows at all, are they?” There were no towers and no meat in sight. Only clay pots filled with soft raw earth and plant varieties I had never seen before, and in all different sizes.

  “No, they don’t grow any of these things down there. They don’t remember how.” His eyes glossed over sadly.

  “Will any of them cure her? My mom?”

  “I have things that can ease her symptoms. Elderberry, to help her fight the Cough, and Belladonna to ease her fever. But only the Elite have a cure.”

  “Of course,” I grumbled. “The Elite have everything—good clothes, enough food to eat, clean water, and nice things in general. Things I’ve wanted all my life, but I’d give up all of those possibilities if it would save my mom.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. The weight of it felt reassuring. “Wishing never saved anyone, child. The question is, what will you do now? Will you accept her fate?”

  Indignation boiled into rage as his comment met the fire that was burning a hole in my heart. How dare he assume I could just give up?

  “I won’t!” I said, conjuring the memory of my mother’s face as she pressed her necklace into the protection of my palm. “I have another plan. Anything you can give me will just have to get her through until I can do something more for her.”

  Wallace raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but the twinkle in his eye told me I’d given him the response he’d been hoping for.

  “I’m going to hack into the Acceptance,” I told him quietly. “I’ve already figured out how to get in, and I’m going to win. I’m going to survive the Above and get my parents into the Greens.”

  The twinkle in his eye intensified, spreading into a grizzled, toothy grin. “That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say to make you worth my energy. Now, I have something even better than herbs to offer you, girl. If you can hack your way into the Acceptance, I can teach you how to survive.”

  Chapter Twelve

  My heart felt as if I’d been dropped down an elevator shaft only to land safely at the bottom. “You’ll what?”

  He began to move from pot to pot, harvesting small dark berries from some of the bushes, not even casting an eye in my direction.

  “You heard me well enough.” He put the berries into a small glass jar and handed it to me.

  “Boil water. Three cups, and add half of the jar. Cook until the smell fills your home. Let them cool, and then mash and strain them. Have her drink a fourth of an ounce every two hours, as needed. It will help make her more comfortable.”

  “But why would you help me?” I held up the jar of berries. “Why not just give me the herbs and send me on my way? What’s in it for you?”

  He shifted his weight from side to side, avoiding eye contact. “Farrow Corp is no friend of mine, and I hold no qualms when it comes to finding loopholes in the Farrow family’s rules.”

  He wasn’t making any sense. Sure, he was kind of a hermit. But I couldn’t see any reason for him to want to help me survive the Acceptance. Unless...

  “You’re a Rej, aren’t you?”

  He leaned in close, pulling himself up until his shoulders were squared. I’d hit a nerve. “Who I was and who I am is none of your business. All you need to know is what I have to offer. A way for you to survive on the surface. If you come here at this time every day, I will teach you. Are you in, or not?”

  He held his hand out in a gesture I remembered from a year four lesson. It had been used to mark an agreement, back before the Virus made people afraid to touch one another. Even now, in the Geos, touch was reserved for only the people you trusted the most. Did I trust Wallace? I mulled the question over in my mind a moment. If what he said was true, he had no motivation to lead me astray by lying about how to survive.

  And turning me in to the EFs would hurt his chances of trade, and maybe even cost him his home. Besides, the knowledge he was offering me could literally mean life or death. At the very least, it couldn’t hurt. I swallowed my fears as I extended my hand, palm toward his, and grasped it in my own.

  He held on a minute, examining the contrast between us. My hands, the hands of a coder, were soft and cold. His were cracked and calloused, with dirt caked under the tips of his nails. I tried not to let my squeamish reaction show.

  “I’m in.”

  As I followed him from the coding hall a few minutes later, we came upon another familiar structure. This one looked like the atrium. Only, the ceiling wasn’t so high. I was pretty sure the wall climbers down in my atrium could have reached the skylights in this level without even breaking a sweat.

  And then I realized something that made my heart skip a beat. Looking out the skylights in this atrium, I saw a large, greyish-blue wall, with a bright light that made my eyes blink against its glow.

  “Is that...?” I couldn’t finish my sentence… the idea was just too terrifying.

  “Yes,” Wallace said, “that is the sky. The honest-to-God sky. Amazing, isn’t it?”

  He kept walking, as if the Above and the Virus were of no concern to him. I was frozen in place, mouth agape, unable to process the enormity of what he had just said.

  “Come on, there’s more where that came from.”

  More? The thought nearly sent me into shock. How could there be more?

  He didn’t look back to see if I followed, but shuffled on as if whether I came after him was of no consequence. I wondered how one could become so accustomed to something as profound as seeing the ‘honest to God sky’ and have seeing it be such a mundane occurrence.

  On the first two days, we covered what Wallace called the basics of survival.

  “On the surface, there are many dangers to distract you,” he said. “So many that most of you forget the three survival essentials: water, shelter, and something called fire.”

  He covered how to find water on the surface. While ours was transported via a series of old, up-cycled pipes, on the surface, water flowed from things Wallace called rivers. Moving water was good, he said. Less likely to make one sick than standing water. “It’s cold, too,” he added. “If they give you a filter, you can drink it that way. If they don’t or the filter goes bad before you get back, you’ll have to boil it.”

  We also covered how to make fire, and how to build shelter. “You have to stay warm,” he warned me. “Hypothermia takes out more potential victors than most other things. Your generation thinks that, because you grew up underground, you understand what cold is, but you don’t. You don’t know the cold of a bitter wind on a winter night, when the ground is frosted over and snow begins to fall...” His eyes went far away again, and he kept talking, spiralling into more information that I barely understood. It was happening more often a
s we spent more time together. During these times, none of the information he offered was anything I had experienced before. It soon got to be that I’d stay quiet and let his monologues run their course rather than interrupting to ask for an explanation.

  By the third day, Wallace had begun to let his guard down. As we went over the ways to identify dead spots—places on the surface where the Virus lived, and the areas where Rejs lived and did something he called hunting, he began to let slip stories about his life, and why he had no love for Farrow Corp or the family that ran the Geos.

  “The world is so much more than what you know,” he said. “So much more than tunnels and technology and vouchers. So much more than the dramatics that Farrow and his theater of puppets have created. He’d have you believe that’s all there is. That the entire world revolves around the Acceptance and a search for the Cure.”

  “But what else could there possibly be? The Virus wiped out most of humanity. We’re lucky that any of us are here at all!”

  “That’s what they want you to think.” His eyes narrowed. “What I thought, too, before I was exiled.”

  “You lived in the Geos?” The idea would have been comical if it wasn’t so astounding.

  “The Virus drove us all underground when I was just a babe,” he said, nodding. “So, yes, I grew up in the Geos.”

  “Then how do you know so much about the Above?”

  “Some of my knowledge comes from stories handed down to me by my parents. My herbs, for instance. My parents were healers, too. Even in the Geos.”

  “Wait, so you’re telling me that not only did you grow up in the Geos, but you were a doctor?” Looking at him now, covered in dirty, tattered layers of flannel and fleece, it was hard to believe.

  “That I was. Until Farrow gave me the boot.”

  “But why?” With population growth, and so many dying from the Cough, what would make Farrow Corp banish a doctor of all people?