The Acceptance (The GEOs Book 1)

by Ramona Finn

  It was a brilliant idea, and one that hadn’t occurred to me yet. Wallace had spent some time going over basic hunting, trapping, and foraging, but we hadn’t gotten far into all of that. I was pretty sure that I would be okay once I got up there, but it couldn’t hurt to pack an emergency supply, just in case.

  Something else about our conversation was bothering me, though. It had taken a moment for me to put my finger on it, but the longer Ben spoke, the stronger the feeling became that something wasn’t quite right. “Why are you doing this?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from sounding too accusatory. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m super grateful. But why tell me? Why not the others?”

  His smile returned in full force. “I mean, I know you guys don’t really mingle, and since you’re the only coder, there probably isn’t anyone you’re that invested in down here.” He paused to feel me out, and I was torn. I knew I should tell him that Kev and I were friends, and that it wasn’t fair to keep this kind of information from him, if not the others. But as I looked at Ben, I realized that maybe I had a way to get my mother faster care. I shrugged. “It’s a fair question, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, it’s plenty fair. I’m not supposed to—it’s part of the trial, you figuring out what to do, how to do it, and all that. Hints like these—my father wouldn’t be happy I’m telling you any of this,” he admitted, glancing back the way we’d come as if he expected someone might be following us. But then he turned back to me. “It’s just that you’re different. I needed to help you if I could. And I wasn’t sure if the others would matter to you. I’m glad they do, that everything does, but, well…” He shrugged. “You know, scientist and all. If everyone figured out this stuff, my father would know I’d helped someone and word had gotten out, but I thought I could help you and it would be okay. Plus… I was curious, so I looked up your profile, and it turns out you’re a match for me.”

  I nearly had to pick my chin up off the ground. We were a match? That meant the algorithm had determined that our genetic profiles were compatible, meaning the likelihood of a healthy child being produced was high.

  “We weren’t sure it was even possible—you know, because my genes were edited.” For most, this simply served to solidify pairings, but as the first genetically engineered human, I imagined it was groundbreaking for Ben and the Labs.

  “I know, it’s crazy, right? Some people search their whole lives for their match and wind up with less favorable odds than us,” he added, looking at the ground as his face turned a deep scarlet. “I dunno, I guess maybe it’s something my dad chose when he designed me, but I don’t like to take chances. I want you to have as much information as possible before you’re sent to the Above.”

  I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. The weight of the information he’d just thrown at me was too heavy for me to process all at once. Seconds of silence stretched on before Ben spoke again.

  “You know, I knew I liked you even before I saw your profile. You’re not falling apart like the girl doctor or crazy-nervous like the girl farmer. You’re not arrogant like the two EFs. And you’re not desperate to prove yourself like the other guy.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak without saying something stupid.

  “Anyway, I know you wanted some space to think, and I guess I’ve given you even more to think about.” He glanced at his watch. “And I’ll be expected back soon myself. Don’t be a stranger, okay?” He leaned in, kissing me on the cheek before turning on his heels and leaving.

  My hand raised automatically and hovered over my cheek where his lips had just been; suddenly, I felt like a complete fraud. I didn’t belong here, no matter how much Ben thought the opposite. I wasn’t nearly as impressive as he made me out to be. What if there was someone else waiting back in the Geos who was better equipped to survive the Acceptance? What if she was a match for Ben, and I’d stolen that chance from both of them?

  The thought hurt—I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone’s loneliness. But then I pushed the thought aside. I had to keep my mind in the present, or I’d be doomed before I even made it to the Above. My family needed me. In the Greens, they’d have medical care, not to mention better living quarters. And, who knew… Maybe it wasn’t my actual profile Ben had seen, but that didn’t mean we were a bad match. And by surviving the Acceptance, I might still contribute to finding the Cure.

  Besides, it was kind of nice to be around someone who was truly on my side. Or, at least, as “on my side” as they could be without me confessing. And even if the things I’d told him hadn’t been the whole truth, they were truer than any other conversation I’d had since coming to this place.

  I leaned against the nearest wall and slid to the ground. For a long while, I just sat there, rolling the water filter back and forth with my fingers, examining it as if it somehow held the secrets to all of my struggles. I sighed. Ben thought I was his match. Farrow knew I was doomed to die. Sitting here staring at a damn water filter wasn’t going to change any of that, and this shuttle station didn’t offer any extra choices.

  I stood up and, after a moment of thought, pocketed the water filter Ben had given me. Just because I’d hacked my way in here didn’t mean I was stupid enough to reject genuine help when it was offered, and clean water was literally about to mean life or death.

  And now, especially with the help of Ben, I might actually stand a chance at surviving. I made a mental note to formally thank Ben the next time I saw him, and headed back to my room.

  Chapter Twenty

  Phase two of training was nothing like I’d expected. Phase one couldn’t even compare. First off, there were new rules. In these simulations, no one was supposed to talk to one another before, during, or after. The others took this rule pretty seriously as far as I could tell. Except for Kev, who would sometimes walk with me to the dining hall afterward and let me vent my frustrations with the program. Still, even he had never offered to help me, so why would he now? We were all supposed to survive the sims on own merit, based on our profiles and our actions, which was fine for everyone else, but royally sucked for me—my one-time disconnection of my survival chances from the sims had been rectified quickly, and now it was back to the same routine, with the machine expecting me to die at every turn. Day after day, the algorithm reminded me that I was doomed to death in the Above, and none of the decisions I made during the simulations altered the outcome.

  Which brought up the second difference in phase two. The Above in the simulation looked nothing like the world that Wallace had described to me. It was dangerous, yes. But the similarities ended there.

  “There’s nothing you need that the earth can’t provide,” Wallace had said. To him, the Above was lush and full of life.

  What Wallace had described with reverence, though, the sims projected in stark contrast. The sims projected a dusty, barren landscape with a bright orange sky, incapable of hosting life. Every time I interacted with it, I died. In the first day of sims alone, a boar mauled me, I wandered into an invisible swamp and drowned, and I got killed by Rejs.

  And that was on one of my good days.

  On the bad days, I could barely hit the reset button before I was killed again, and Ben had been right about the feedback suits. Dying hurt each and every time. After a while, I stopped trying to survive and found that my inaction gave me a better chance of survival than anything else I’d tried so far.

  At the end of the week, I was the only one who had zero maintained level completions, as certain actions within the sims would reset the player to their first level: For example, an in-game decision that led to contaminating the Geos was an automatic re-set on the scoreboard. As I looked up at everyone’s simulation stats, I was filled with dread. Maybe Farrow had rigged the sims to send me a message. He knew I’d been involved in the hack… I was sure of it. There was no way that anyone could look at my stats, see how I was struggling, and still believe there was a chance I’d wound up here by accident. Even after hearing the hushed talk reg
arding my certain demise, I wasn’t entirely convinced that Farrow wasn’t suspicious of me.

  Of course, some days I worried that I was slipping into a paranoid state for no reason.

  I decided I needed to talk to Ben. Maybe his belief in me, no matter how misguided, would lift my spirits. The next morning, I got up earlier than the others and snuck out to the shuttle station, where I now knew he spent most of his mornings.

  “I was wondering how long you’d stay away,” he said as he leaned against one of the stone pillars. “I was hoping we’d have more time together, but I’m being sent back to the Labs.”

  “You’re what?” I’d come here looking for confidence, or a confidant. I wasn’t sure which. Suddenly, I felt like my lifeline had just been pulled out from under me.

  “I know,” he answered, his face wrought with concern. “I don’t want to go right now, but the team’s made another discovery, and since my dad is busy with the Acceptance, I’m the next in the chain of command. I have to go.” He reached into his sleeve and produced a small, flesh-colored earpiece.

  “I snagged a comm for you,” he said, pressing it into my palm. “It’s programmed to mine exclusively. I want to be the first one to know when you win.”

  “If I win,” I corrected him. “What if I need help?” My heart leapt into my throat. Having Ben’s input from the Labs could be the difference between life and death.

  He smiled and bumped my shoulder with his playfully. “Nah, you’re going to do great, I just know it. Besides, you’ll only be in range once you get back to the Geos.” He stood up straight, aligning his body to mine as he looked into my eyes. “I really like you, Tylia Coder. I could use someone like you in the Labs. I think we’d make a great team.”

  “Yeah,” I said, not wanting my sour mood to ruin his moment. I forced a smile. “Yeah, I think we would.”

  “So, you’ll call me, then?” The mischievous smile returned. “When you win?”

  “Yeah,” I tried to sound convincing. What good was a comm if I couldn’t use it during the Acceptance? Still, I didn’t want to offend him. Maybe if I stayed close to the Geos, I’d stay in range in case I needed help. I flashed my best smile, hoping it was convincing. “I’ll call you when I win.”

  Phase three began with a ceremony. It was one that I was familiar with, having watched several over my lifetime. But being a spectator was much different than being a participant.

  The format was similar to the Acceptance Ceremony, with a few new rituals. First, it took place in the atrium of the Union Hall on a temporary raised platform that sat in front of the screen that normally played The Cure. During the ceremony, the screen instead displayed a slideshow of images from the Above followed by photos of each of us taken from our identification files. Instead of coming in with the general population, we stood on stage with R.L. Farrow as people from the Geos entered—an added dramatic effect that had made Jax and Jason nearly explode from excitement.

  I scanned the sea of people, many of whom I’d known since childhood. I was lying to each and every one of them.

  Parents began to file to their designated seats of honor in the front row until each was filled, save for the pair of seats reserved for my parents. My heart sank when the last of the audience had filed in and the seats were still empty. I could guess which parents belonged to the other contestants. Kev’s parents were seated to our left, but stood quietly as a sign of respect for those chosen to compete in the Acceptance. His mother waved meekly, and Kev shot her his best smile. I envied the way he beamed with pride. Jason and Jax’s parents stood facing centerstage, waving their arms and hooting at their sons, who pumped their fists in the air excitedly in response. It was aggressive, annoying, and somehow one of the sweetest things I’d ever seen. The twins obviously had their parents’ full support. I couldn’t believe it, but I was actually jealous of them.

  I watched as my fellow chosen made contact with their families for the first time in weeks, and each time my heart broke a little more as I stared at the empty space where my father should have been standing.

  The ceremony seemed to drag on forever as I tried to hold back my tears. My father’s absence could mean only one of two things: He was embarrassed and angered by my choice to hack the Acceptance, or my mother’s health had deteriorated and she was facing some sort of emergency.

  The thought made me retreat even further into my own thoughts, burying myself in silly details—a crack in the wall here, or the funny way someone’s hair made one ear look smaller than the other. Anything other than the thoughts that threatened to push me off of the teetering edge of my own sanity.

  The ceremony was short. For all of the show and fanfare, only a short speech was made by R.L., honoring us each for the sacrifice of time away from family during training. There was no talk about the real sacrifice: our lives.

  Following our send-off ceremony, there was to be a procession. The chosen would exit the stage and walk down the center aisle to the transport station as the crowd around us celebrated the send-off with cheers, well-wishes, and gifts for the chosens’ families.

  Exiting one side of the stage—first the EFs, then the doctors, then the farmers, and finally me—I couldn’t help but scan the crowd once more for my father, but to no avail. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying as I was forced to watch as each of my training companions were celebrated by their friends and families as the procession made its way down the aisle.

  Behind us, the audience filed out, marching along with us with hoots of celebration as we headed to the shuttle station where we would say goodbye to everything we had ever known, possibly forever.

  It was a long march to the shuttle station. As the others began to board their individual cars, I saw Kev shoot me a sympathetic look. The gesture was meant to make me feel less alone, I knew, but it had the opposite effect.

  Finally, I was the last contestant standing on the platform. The shuttle slid forward until the door to my car lined up perfectly with me, as it had with all the others.

  Just as the doors wooshed open, I saw him—my father, fighting his way through the crowd. I waved my arms in the air as I called out to the crowd. “Hey! Hey, make way for my dad!” But they didn’t seem to register my voice over the chaos of the celebration.

  Finally, he made it close enough to the gold-plated chain that roped the general population off from the chosen. As he approached, one of the EF guards tried to hold him off. “The time for goodbyes is finished,” he said gruffly.

  “No, he’s fine,” I said, putting my hand on the EF’s arm. The EF looked down his nose at me, obviously annoyed at being bossed around, but my position as part of the Acceptance prevented him from denying me, and he let him pass. “Stay on this side of the barrier,” he warned. My dad nodded.

  I leaned over the barrier to wrap my arms around his neck. I held him close, only letting go when he pulled away to press something into the palm of my hand. It was a copper bracelet cuff—the second half of my parents’ wedding jewelry, and the companion to my mother’s necklace.

  “I’m so sorry, Ty,” he offered in a hoarse whisper. He cleared his throat, and then added, “I understand why you did...” His eyes glanced at the EF looming over his shoulder, and then he finished, “What you did before you left. I was just scared. So scared.” Tears glistened in the corners of his tired eyes. “I just couldn’t stand the thought that I might lose you both.”

  I’d thought I was doing this for my family. The reality was, I’d been selfish. I wanted so desperately not to lose my mother that I’d put my father in a position to lose his entire family.

  “Your mom is already in queue for an upgrade to the Greens,” he said, and I sighed with relief. Ben must have pulled some strings after all. “There’s just the normal bureaucratic red tape to get through and we’ll be home free. You did it, Ty—you’re going to save your mom!”

  “How is she?” I asked. “Does she have any more of those herbs left?”

  “So
me,” he said, but the smile plastered across his face stopped at his eyes. He was lying, or at least withholding information from me. Even with the medicine Wallace had offered, then, she was still getting worse.

  “I don’t want you worrying about the two of us, Ty. Just focus on surviving.” He put his hand on my face, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “I believe in you. I know you can do this. I’m so, so proud of you, baby girl.”

  “Time to go,” the EF said, and my attention returned to the shuttle idling behind me. Letting it run like that was wasteful, and if I stalled much longer, I could get my dad in trouble, too.

  “I love you,” I said before turning and stepping into my car. I didn’t dare turn to look at him through the window, knowing I’d break down immediately if I did.

  The rest of the transfer process was a blur. We’d all been given a handful of supplies based on individual request. I’d paid attention to Ben’s advice and requested some dried meats. I’d also had them pack me a fire starter, some rope, and a tarp for shelter, as well as a knife. I’d kept the water purifier and communication device in the pocket of my jacket secretly. I didn’t want to chance getting Ben in trouble.

  Each of us was tagged with a tracker that monitored our vitals and reported back to the Geos. If we survived long enough to prove useful to the Cure, the tracker would light up green and broadcast our location so that we could be picked up by air shuttles sent by the Labs.

  They handed us our packs as we stood in a straight line just before being ushered into individual elevator tubes. Unlike the elevator in the restricted wing, these tubes allowed for only one passenger each, and were compact and round—giving just enough room for the average-sized passenger. Jason and Jax even had trouble getting their broad shoulders into the elevators and had to scrunch themselves in to make themselves smaller. From my position in the back of the line, I didn’t have any concerns about space, and thanked the powers that be that I wasn’t one of the few people in the Geos who was claustrophobic.