Romy: Book I of the 2250 Saga

by Nirina Stone

  But she surprises me with, “We’re near ground zero.” She stands to face me and leans on the balcony railing. I haven’t heard the term before so, when I ask, she explains it’s where the Great Omni would have started, or rather where it ended everyone and everything.

  “Why are you there?” I ask, frowning.

  “It’s intel, Romy.” I know better than to ask what that means. Anytime Mother or Eric have uttered those words, they mark the end of the conversation. But I wonder what sort of intel they expect to find on ground zero. I sigh and lean back. She watches my face for a few minutes before asking me what’s on my mind.

  “I don’t understand why I’m here,” I finally admit. It’s not something I’ve ever voiced to Eric or Knox, or really anyone else before Mother. In the beginning of my imprisonment, I assumed they wanted a surrogate, to keep the Soren line going. But no one has hinted at that, least of all asked me to. No one has attempted to force me into surrogacy either, which was a consistent fear for the first few weeks.

  Sure, once they found out my Family name, my treatment was much improved, but then what? I’m still very much an outsider. I’m still a Citizen.

  Most of the inhabitants of the Iliad don’t mistreat me for it. In fact, Commander Blair is the only one who has shown any outward hostility towards me. But they don’t really need me working in the library. So what is my purpose here?

  “I know it’s difficult,” she says, “but it takes time for some people to understand what we do and why we do it. That’s why we’re cautious.”

  Hearing Mother acknowledge my state as an outsider, using the words some people to refer to me and the word we to refer to herself and the Sorens, is daunting. But I am being trained, which is a step in the right direction. I think. Still, I wonder about Father. “Why?” I ask. “Why did you and Father lie to me, Mother?” She leans back and studies my face for a moment. The last thing I wanted to do was confront her on the first day I see her, but I can’t help but ask.

  “We thought you wouldn’t understand, Romy,” she says. “There was a high chance we were all being watched. There was no way for Father and me to communicate any of this with you in C-City. We needed to keep any suspicions at bay, and we wanted to keep you safe.”

  “But your mission?” I say. My voice is raised and my chest rises and falls. Why didn’t you bring us straight here? is what I really want to ask. Why have us live a poor life in Citizen City? Why let Father go to Azure? Why did any of it have to happen? But I already know the answer to all my questions. She had to pose as a Citizen, to work for the Prospo as a harmless Groomer, to retire and infiltrate Mars. That was her assignment—by any means necessary. “You knew there was a chance you wouldn’t come back from it. Was it worth it, Mother? Was it worth his life?”

  She doesn’t reply, but turns her head away to stare at the top of the trees. I don’t know what else to say. I don’t really blame her for Father’s death—none of us know what happened to him. I also know she’s not about to respond to my accusation. So I turn to stare at the trees as well.

  “So what is my assignment?” I finally ask, keen to hear more about something they want me to actively take part in.

  “It will be difficult. Dangerous,” she starts. I sit back and wait, feeling my hands shake. So I rest them on my lap and listen. “But we really couldn’t see any other way to do this. Besides, it’s a good first time out, for you.”

  Okay, now my curiosity is peaked. “What do I need to do, Mother?”

  She smiles and leans forward. “Go back to P-City.”

  Two weeks later, I stand on the sidewalk in front of the Knowledge Hub, with a sense of deja vu. This is the exact spot I stood on nearly two years ago, when the Sorens grabbed me.

  I roll my shoulders, trying to focus on the task at hand, rather than remember the pain and thoughts from that day.

  It’s eerily quiet, though nothing has changed from the last time I was here except there isn’t a single car on the road. I’m no longer used to this sort of pin-drop silence. Even in the Soren library, there is an occasional cough or shuffle or creak of a chair.

  The forest is never still nor silent either—the trees’ leaves are in a constant rustle, and birds chirp away over the sound of the waves hitting the hull of the Iliad.

  I look around me warily, but I’m definitely alone. Okay. Here goes. I walk in through the sliding doors and make my way to the front, where an attendant sits and smiles widely at me when I approach. She sits facing a floating screen behind a massive white marble slab, which looks like it could seat twenty or so of her.

  To the leftmost side of the table is a scanner. I make my way to it as she watches and waits. I turn my wrist up and have it scanned. A small red light flickers and the machine makes a slight beep. It’s telling her on her little screen that the scan is invalid.

  “May I help you?” she asks with a lilt in her voice. I wonder if she actually enjoys her job in this sterile, dead-quiet building. She looks content enough.

  “I am Romy Fifty Two,” I answer, “and I’m here for additional robotics training.” I watch her, expecting that she won’t find my name on the list.

  “Oh—” She scrambles to type something into the screen in front of her. “Oh,” she repeats with a slight panic in her voice. “I’m afraid you’re not registered for today’s training, Romy Fifty Two.”

  “Is there any room for a walk-in?” I ask with a smile.

  “A walk-in?” She tilts her head to the right and watches me like I’m not speaking her language.

  “Yes, a walk-in,” I say sweetly. “You know. Someone who isn’t on the list but wishes to be on the list?” I smile some more.

  Her smile wanes and she continues to watch me. She’s never had someone ask her anything like this before. I can see she’s not exactly sure how to deal with me, and decides it’s time for me to go.

  “I’m afraid not,” she answers tersely. “There are no walk-ins for extra training.” She uses a tone that indicates I should really know better. Then she looks down at her screen impatiently, waiting for me to walk away. If I were a respectful little Citizen, it’s exactly what I would do, after apologizing profusely. Instead, I continue to hover over her, still with a smile on my face.

  Her eyes move up to me, her head still bent down. I can see she’s nervous. Has she already pressed the button for Security? I continue to smile, feeling my cheeks get sore with the effort. Ugh, why can’t she decide faster than this?

  “Is there something else?” she asks, clearly losing her patience.

  “I can stand in the back of a classroom if there are no more seats,” I insist, still smiling so hard, I wonder how the Vorkians can do this for so long.

  She frowns and her eyes are narrowed. Her hand inches toward something—hopefully a panic button under the marble desk. Finally. I was starting to imagine I’d have to do something more drastic, like punch her in the nose. But that might get me in more trouble than I intend to be in today.

  “You should go,” she says, her eyes wide and shining, as though she’s fighting tears. Is she actually afraid of me? How quaint. I stand and continue smiling like I don’t understand her words.

  “Or maybe a stool?” I ask. “I could sit on a stool or a bench or the side of a table. Anything, really. I’m not fussed.”

  She bites her bottom lip and her eyes dart to my hands and back to my eyes. I don’t have a weapon on me. Did she think I’d use one on her, if I did?

  I finally hear them coming and turn before they reach me. Three guards in white uniforms approach carefully, their eyes registering my unarmed state.

  “You should leave,” one of them says, before they stand frozen in front of me. I roll my shoulders again, and look back at them, my stance unchanged.

  One guard steps forward with a stun gun raised. I’m ready for this. I practised what it would feel like, but I’m still nervous. “As long as you don’t act too aggressively,” Mother had said to reassure me, “they will leav
e the stunner on the lowest possible level.”

  So I wait. I don’t charge them. I just stand.

  “You need to leave,” the guard repeats. He approaches me carefully with the stun gun still in his hand.

  I stand still and watch and wait. I’m not moving at all—I may as well be a statue. But I brace myself as he approaches. I look at the stun gun, though I can’t see from here exactly what setting he has on the thing.

  This is taking far too long, I think. The anticipation is killing me, so I take a step forward. I’m on the ground shaking and flopping like a newly caught fish, before it registers he stunned me. The pain is more intense than I remember from my training. My entire body is rigid and in pain, like a full-body cramp. My shoulders and chest are compressed by an invisible metal vest that’s shrinking rapidly. I try to take a breath, but it’s impossible. And the miniature earthquakes in my limbs—will they ever stop? At least I remembered to tuck my tongue behind my teeth, to avoid biting down on it.

  I’m certain the bastard had the stunner set on the middle level.

  When I’m recovering in some back room, I know I’m physically closer to where I need to be. How much time has passed?

  I look around me in the small holding room, empty but for the chair I’m on, and two other empty chairs facing me.

  I’m no longer dazed or in pain, so I’m ready for the next part.

  Getting stunned and committed back here was the easy part of my assignment.

  They have likely re-scanned my Alto by now, so they’re aware I was a no-show for my training. They will be very keen to interview me.

  I mentally brace myself for the next part, though much of it will depend on a little bit of luck.

  Why are they taking so long to come talk to me though?

  I close my eyes, bringing up the map Mother had me memorize. I must be in the tiny room we noted, only two doors and two hallways away from their massive AADA. It is one of the biggest in the State of Apex, and it is one of the few that is not networked, so the Sorens can’t hack into it remotely.

  They, or rather, I need to physically get to it to attain its information. That is my next step. But how? I walk through what Mother and I discussed. I will only have a few minutes to work on this part of the assignment.

  But the interviewers need to come see me, and soon. The Citizens in this building would not anticipate me—that’s all I can rely on. So I run through the map in my head over and over, until I’m sure I can get to the room with the AADA and then head out the building’s exit, even with my eyes closed.

  That’s when the door opens and they finally walk in. I open my eyes and put on my best smile.

  “Romy Fifty Two,” the first one says, not returning my smile. He’s average-sized, this one. He’s wearing those bizarre fake glasses that give people the illusion he’s smarter than he really is.

  The second one through the door is a woman, half a foot taller than me, but slight and wiry. I’m sure I can slip past her quickly if I must.

  The third man though, is tall and burly and all muscle. There aren’t that many natural redheads in Apex, so he would stand out anyway. His neck is thick as a tree trunk and under its surface, a fat blue vein throbs like an organ. I keep my eyes trained on him. He must have some roidbots or something in him—that neck doesn’t look normal.

  “Why are you here, Romy Fifty Two?” asks the bespectacled one. He and the woman noisily scrape their chairs back to take a seat in front of me.

  Burly man stands by the closed door. He looks like he would need three of the dinky chairs to be able to sit comfortably, anyway.

  “I need extra robotics training,” I reply sweetly.

  “You were listed for training two years ago,” the woman says. “You did not show.”

  “Indeed not,” I say, still smiling. This is taking far too long. I need to get out of this room, and fast. I wonder how my other teammates are doing? “My deepest apologies,” I finally say. “I was unfortunately detained that year. I should have left when they asked, but I am just so keen to learn. I love Apex.” Will it be sufficient to have them decide I’m really not a threat?

  The two sit and watch me for a minute. I wonder what they’re thinking but I wait patiently. My eyes dart to Burly, by the door. He’s not watching me anymore. In fact, he looks bored. Good.

  “Why didn’t you reschedule? Right after the missed course?” asks fake-glasses man.

  Do they really care, I wonder? “I was detained for much longer than I anticipated.”

  “Well,” the woman says, “you can have yourself listed for the next session. It will be one month from today.”

  I nod and smile, intent on saying yes to everything they want until they re-open the door.

  “Okay,” bespectacled one says, “Sheppard Forty Nine will escort you to the exit.” He nods towards the Burly one. Then he and the woman walk towards the door and leave, my name and face all but forgotten.

  I stand and look at Sheppard, who still looks bored. He probably thought he’d finally find some action today, but so far my little show has been nothing but a minor distraction in his morning.

  “This way,” he says gruffly, and steps to the side as he unlocks and opens the door.

  Before it is completely open, I realize this is my chance. I bolt.

  “Hey!” he yells, and I hear him pull the door open wider to chase after me. His fat finger brushes the side of my neck, and I hasten my speed, turning corners and skidding as I go. The shoes I’m wearing are ideal for slippery marble floors such as these. They are built with extra traction.

  I don’t look behind me, but can hear his heavy stomping. He’s close. Despite his size, he’s fast. Hoping his roidbots are only for muscle-density and not for long-distance running, I pick up my speed. All I can rely on is that I’m smaller, lighter and faster than he is.

  Seeing the frosted glass sliding doors to the AADA room, I hope, just hope the other Sorens have hacked through the security system by now. Otherwise I will hit it like a bug on a windshield. When the doors slide open, I yell out a, “Ha!” and slip through. The doors slide shut behind me and, within a second, Sheppard slams into them, his big body making the triple-paned glass shudder and rumble. That’s the most he can do, though. I’m in.

  I quickly move toward the back of the cold room, straight to the telltale flashing green lights of the AADA. I have all of three minutes to get what I need and download it to my wrist Alto.

  Who would have thought Altos are capable of more than scanning credits and identity? The Sorens have hacked theirs—and now mine—so they will be able to hold terabytes of information.

  The moment I scan it, everything this remote AADA holds will be in the hands of the Sorens. We are fully networked. It takes all of thirty seconds.

  I ignore the hammering and rattling from the sliding doors, and look around for the second exit. Sheppard would know there’s another smaller door out of this room, but I hope he’s still in shock, still angry, that this small nonthreatening female Citizen outsmarted him.

  Getting to the other door, I open it to stick my head out quickly. It’s only three hallways to run through from here to the outer exit. If Sheppard’s smart, he would have security waiting for me, but I have a feeling he’s not smart—or far too distracted to think straight.

  I prepare to run towards my right, where the hallway will lead towards my exit and the waiting Soren team.

  But I stop in my tracks when I hear a familiar hissing, bumping sound that could only be an incinerator. I freeze, tilt my ear towards my left and listen. It’s definitely here, behind another set of sliding doors. These doors would not be locked, because incinerators don’t need to be secured.

  Knowing this is not part of my assignment and that I’m losing precious time, I can’t help myself. I turn left and away from the way to the exit. I have to see. I need to see.

  Walking through the sliding doors, I stop where the machine huffs and burns in front of me. It sits towards the
back and right of the room, its massive exhaust pipe reaching up through the tall ceilings.

  Its ugly light gray body makes the floors and walls in the room rumble, and I can see that it’s well on its way to destroying piles of physical books—already falling in twos and threes—down its chute.

  I hear the half second hiss as each book burns, and walk towards the electric counter for the incinerator to shut it down. For good.

  This will take a while and they will find a way to fix it, but if I tell the Sorens exactly how many books are lined up in this room, they will manage to come back in here and rescue them.

  There are well over two thousand books along the far wall, waiting to be destroyed. Who knows how many of those are the only copy left in this world, with its exact words, its exact ideas?

  Sorry Mother, I think. It’s worth it. One less incinerator in the world is a good thing. So I get to work. It is a slightly different model than the one we had in the Azure library, so it takes me a moment to figure out how to wreck it. I have to be quick though.

  There is no ‘Off’ switch on an incinerator. It is turned on and off remotely, so I have no option but to break it from here. Every time I hear another flash and hiss, another book or four are gone, forever. I flinch, but continue to work.

  That’s when Sheppard grabs me.

  I didn’t hear him over the rumbling loud sounds of the incinerator. But I’m certain it’s him as he chokes me. I see the muscles of his forearm ripple and clench while he pulls me away, his wall of a body flush on my back.

  I scratch and punch and pull at his arm, but he’s too big. He’s too strong, and I’m having a hard time breathing. My legs kick the air uselessly when he picks me up with the other arm wrapped around my ribs. He starts towards the other end of the incinerator. The burning end.

  So he means to throw me into the flames. Is this how I die? By burning up within seconds, like one of my beloved books? My mind gets foggy, and I only have seconds left, my breath hitching. Is this really it?