Chapter 8
The Unifers are polar opposites, one as pale as the moon, the other as dark as night. I feel like I’m in a nightmare where I’m trying to get away from my assassin, but instead of moving, I’m shackled—immobilized—by some unseen force.
“Good evening, Sir, Ma’am,” the pale one says, and both salute Nicholas and Mai by lifting their right fists up to their right eyebrows.
Without any further niceties, they step toward me. I half expect them to rip off my clothes to verify that I’m a guy, and it takes every last ounce of resolve not to retreat to the balcony or bring my arms up to my chest.
“Are you Joseph Wood?”
“I am,” I say in the deepest voice I can muster.
“By command of President Volkov, I need to see your government issued ID,” the dark-skinned Unifer says.
Nicholas hands him my ID card and steps back, briefly glancing my way.
The Unifer holds up a small hand-held device with a bunch of buttons and a green light on the bottom. He inserts my card into the feeder, but as it comes out on the other side, the machine beeps and the lit button turns red. “Looks like this ID is illegitimate…” He gives me an accusing glare.
“Try it again,” Nicholas says flatly.
I clamp my jaw so tight that my teeth hurt.
The Unifer gives Nicholas an irritated look, but does as he is told. This time, when her runs my ID through the reader, the light turns green. “Strange…” he remarks, looking puzzled by the blip.
Wanting to get them out of here as quickly as possible, I say, “Will there be anything else?” I can’t believe I’m talking to a Unifer like that, my eyes not dropping to the floor.
“No, that will be all. Thank you for your cooperation.” He bows his head a tad and they’re both out the door. The second they leave, it’s as if the oxygen in the air suddenly returns.
“They think they’re so high and mighty,” Mai says, scoffing.
I’m surprised by her blatant aversion toward them, especially in front of me.
“But I can’t believe you fooled them. Unifers are trained to spot deception. But with that haircut and those clothes, your chest flattened to nothing…you really do look like a boy,” Mai says. “You had me fooled all along. What do you think, Nicholas?”
I touch my hair, not really feeling like a guy, yet no longer a girl. It’s strange how I have come to associate with my gender so much, and how pretending to be the opposite one makes me uncomfortable.
He glances at me for a moment. “I still think she looks like a girl.”
I look down. I don’t like them talking about me as if I’m not even here; it makes me feel like a child.
“What makes you say that?” Mai presses.
“She just has that natural, feminine…glow to her, I suppose.” His eyes linger on me for a moment, and heat rises in my cheeks. Why am I reacting to him this way? It really bothers me.
“Heidi, I’m not supposed to give you any advice, but, oh well. When you’re in the fields, try not to stand out from the rest of the group. President Volkov already thinks that Master Douglas is a nutcase, and if there aren’t any more accusations or events that draw attention to you, then the allegations will dissipate into thin air.” She takes a few deep breaths and then faces Nicholas. “You got this? I want to catch up on what’s going on in the world.”
“Let’s go,” Nicholas says, tilting his head to the side for me to follow him. I do as he says, but just as we’re about to exit the door, I hear a news reporter say my name. I walk back inside and into the entertainment room and see a close-up of my face on the screen. My cheeks fill with blood.
“So why is this young, unqualified, pre-adolescent boy in the Savage Run? The reporter questions, and adds, “Have the standards of the elite stooped too low?” The image shifts to a newsroom, and another reporter takes over. “Now onto the Savage Run Survival Pole. Citizens of Newland have nominated Johnny Poltinger from Culmination as the most likely to place in the top three in Savage Run.” A diagram of the top ten participants appears on the screen, and Johnny’s name is at the top, followed by someone named Cory, and a guy named Jared. “And here is the list of the least likely to complete any of the obstacles. I’m sure it comes as no surprise that Joseph Wood is the last man—or shall we say boy—on the list.”
Whatever speck of confidence I had from being in shape riding around on my bike all these years vanishes. I mean, who am I kidding? Now I see nothing but a stupid girl who doesn’t even know her own limits.
“Don’t watch that trash,” Nicholas says.
Mai mutes the TV and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “You’re an easy target, Heidi. The media will go after you, but you have to ignore them. Besides, they don’t know anything.”
“How do they even know about me?” I ask.
“Drones,” Nicholas says.
That’s what the media uses to get the pictures they want.
“And there’s not much we can do about it. Not even during the obstacle courses themselves, I’m afraid. Anyway, let’s get you settled, shall we?”
At the Nissen hut, he opens the garage and we step inside the hallway. The garage door closes in a clangor behind us, making me jump. On either side of it is a long row of doors without handles, and blue tube lights hang in the ceiling, stretching all the way to the end. It makes Nicholas’s face look pasty. The corridor is completely quiet, so much so that I wonder if anyone is here at all. When we get to door number nineteen, Nicholas pauses for a moment.
“Listen,” he states, “just because you’re small, doesn’t mean you don’t have a chance.” He peers down at me and gives me half a smile. “And I can imagine biking around Culmination all these years, has made your legs strong.”
Did I tell him what my work is? I can’t remember at the moment. “Thanks,” I say, for a lack of anything else to say. And for some reason, my heart beats a little faster.
He inserts the keycard into the slot. Nothing happens. He flips it over and tries again. Still nothing. He keeps trying, in every possible direction, but no matter which way he puts the card in, it doesn’t work. “Let’s go down to the office and get a new key.”
We exit the hut and walk side by side toward the office. The cool breeze plays against my cheek as the copper moon shadows us down the path. Passing Unifers, every one of them salutes Nicholas. I can’t imagine what it would be like to command so much veneration or power. And it’s strange to be treated with regard by someone who does. Is it all part of his plan to get me to trust him so I am in his debt? Of course it’s a ridiculous thought because there’s not a thing he would need from me, is there? Yet, why is he acting so kind toward me, almost friend-like, if it isn’t to get something from me? Use me in some way? There can’t be any other explanation.
Walking down the hill, we pass other participants along the way. I want to sink into the ground when they whisper and shoot me disapproving glances.
“Just ignore them,” Nicholas says.
I didn’t realize he noticed how uncomfortable their looks make me feel, but at least it confirms that I’m not crazy and making things up.
“So tell me again why you decided to break the law and then break the law again by signing up for the most dangerous obstacle course known to mankind,” he says.
“Well…I…uh.”
“You don’t need to hide anything from me, Heidi. What we talk about is between us.”
Precisely what a Master would say to make me open up, and later use what I say against me. Does he really believe that I’ll trust him just like that? Besides, it’s not like I even know what trust is; I’ve never lived around it or seen it in action, only fear and anger, and blame. Always the blame. Well, that’s not completely true. Ruth and Gemma I could trust, yes, but to think I could get to that level of trust with President Volkov’s son is outright ludicrous. Trusting a superior is something foreign—a mythical concept that doesn’t exist. A dangerous road riddled with pain.
W
hen I look at him, I see that his eyes are trained on my face.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asks.
“No.”
“I’m President Volkov’s son again, aren’t I?”
He’s referring to our conversation on the aircraft, of course. And again I feel that tinge of guilt. I brace my arms in front of my chest.
“When I become president, I plan to restructure our entire society. No more hierarchical classes.” He studies my face as if trying to read my reaction. Is he just saying that to hook me, to trick me into trusting him? What does he want in return? If I’m not careful, I might fall for it—he seems so genuine. “That’s…great. Rather ambitious going completely against your father and grandfather like that.”
“Ambitious. Now there’s one thing my father did right; he raised me to believe I can get whatever I want. I suppose I’m rather exhausting that way.”
“That explains a lot.” The words just jump out before I can think. Nicholas seems to have that effect on me—make me speak my mind even when I don’t mean to. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. But mostly terrifying. “I mean…”
He starts to laugh. “Most people try to impress me or get something out of me. It would seem that neither of those are on your agenda.”
I don’t hear any anger in his voice, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. “I’m sorry. I should be more respectful.”
He stops walking. “Don’t change. Your candor is one of the things I appreciate most about you. Dealing with politicians these days, you never know where anyone really stands. But you’re not like that.”
My father took most of my comments as insults although I rarely intended them that way. “Maybe if I were free like a politician, I’d be different.”
“Freedom doesn’t change a person—only makes them more of who they already are.”
I wish I were free.
“You know the first thing the Unifers bombed when they started taking over your country?”
“No.” We didn’t learn much about our country’s usurpation in primary school.
“The Statue of Liberty.”
“What’s that?”
He smiles a little. “It was a statue of a robed female figure—an icon of freedom.”
“Oh.” Of course it would be the first thing to go.
“Freedom I have found is an illusion. Once you think you have it, you’ll realize that you’re still not completely free; no one is. It’s a perfect ideal never to be had.”
I shake my head. “I think freedom is a gift, and what you choose to do with that freedom is what makes us completely free.”
He shakes his head. “It’s okay—you don’t understand.”
All of a sudden, I get the feeling I’m back around Master Douglas with his haughty demeanor. “Just because I’m a Laborer, doesn’t mean I can’t figure things out.”
“That’s not at all what I meant.”
“Then what?”
“That you’re still so pure and unspoiled from all the politics and corruption that soils our society. All I’m saying is that sometimes, it’s better to not have a choice. It’s just nice to not have all that responsibility,” he says.
Something occurs to me. He must feel the pressures of being the next in line for president. “Are you saying you’re afraid of responsibility?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes the burden is so great—” He pauses and glances at me, then exhales before continuing. “—and when mistakes inevitably are made, the one at the top is the one to blame.”
“But it’s so much better to at least be free to make those mistakes.”
“I’d have to disagree.” The muscles in his jaw tighten.
If he knew anything about a Laborer’s circumstances, then he wouldn’t be defending what he’s saying. Is he completely ignorant to the way a Laborer lives? To how we have absolutely no say in our lives? Before I can say anything further, we’ve reached the office. The front doors part as we approach them, and Nicholas walks in ahead of me. After we get a new key, a Unifer drives us back to the Nissen Hunt and Nicholas opens my door without a hitch.
He stands aside. “Mai and I will be back later to brief you about tomorrow.”
I step inside the room, and the first thing I notice is the wooden, bed—completely bare except for the thin pillow. Where’s the mattress? Even at home I have one. Not a very comfortable one; I can just imagine the feel of the boards pressing against my back before sleep takes me. And the toilet—a hole in the floor just like Nicholas said. Back home I have a toilet. The room stinks of urine and it’s cold. Goosebumps appear on my arms. I hadn’t expected my living standards to decrease when I signed up for this.
“I know the accommodations aren’t exactly ideal.”
“I’ll be fine.” I’m already shivering.
“There’s a blanket under the bed. Mai and I will be back in a couple of hours for the briefing.” He closes the door and I’m left to myself.
I should try to get some sleep. I lie down on the bed and squeeze my eyes shut, the boards cold and rigid against my back. My hands move to my chest, and I imagine my mother’s locket being there. If it were, then I’d caress the smooth surface, and it would send me to sleep. A few minutes pass and my mind is processing like a high performing computer. The thought of the computer reminds me of Sergio—stupid Sergio! Now I can’t get his Eastern Republic accent out of my head. Pteetsa. If I only were a bird I could fly away. I wonder why he agreed to make those IDs for Gemma and me when he could easily have kicked us out and been done with it. Gemma. Tears spring into my eyes. From the very innermost part of me, I wish I could go back to that moment, the very moment when I made my decision to run—the moment that killed her. I hear her voice screaming for me to run. Run, Heidi, run! I wipe a tear which runs down on the side of my head toward my ear. I shouldn’t have run. There, I finally can admit it. A faint cry escapes my lips. She always sacrificed herself so I could get what I wanted. I knew that. Innately. And this time was no different. Just like the time she fell out of the tree and broke her arm. She was terrified to even get up in the tree. I could see it in her eyes and in the way her fingers trembled. But for some reason I had to have her climb with me. It was always this way—me needing her more than she needed me. To do things with me—the one who gave me courage—meaning. And in the end she was the one who gave the most—not me. I selfishly just took it. Until there was no more to take. I feel another tear trail down from my eye. I made the wrong choice. I made the wrong choice! Why did it have to turn out this way? Why did I have to make that decision?
I sit up. I can’t think about her right now; I need to remain emotionally stable—strong—the strongest I’ve ever been, like Ruth always told me. Never tire, she would say. If you tire, you die. But she doesn’t know what I’ve done. I’m sure she wouldn’t give me that advice now. I fall to the hard bed and pound my fists into the wood and scream into my pillow.
I can’t lie here anymore, driving myself crazy like this.
I stand up and start to pace around the small room. I continue on with the mindless pacing for hours—I think. I can’t really tell, and I don’t bother to check the clock. At some point the door opens and someone slides a plate in, but I don’t eat it. I know I should, but I can’t. Instead, I try to figure out what I could have done differently. There must have been some way I could have saved Gemma and me both. But the conclusion is always the same. If I die, she dies. If she dies, I live.
When Nicholas opens the door, my eyelids feel thick—swollen. I turn away so he won’t see me like this.
“I’m here to brief you about tomorrow.” He closes the door and the room smells faintly of cologne. “Heidi.”
I swivel halfway toward him.
“Is everything okay?” His voice is low, a hint of concern in his tone—or maybe it’s disgust.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Where’s Mai?” I ask, wanting the at
tention off of me.
“We ran late and President Volkov needed to meet with her.”
I sit down on the bed, my eyes lowered, my hands stuffed between the wood and the back of my thighs. “So what’s it like, exactly, to be President Volkov’s son?”
He seems to acknowledge that I need something—anything—to distract myself with. “What’s it like?” He moves deeper into the room and pockets the key card. “No one has ever asked me that before.” He gazes out into the air and his face goes stiff. “It’s always a power struggle. And I never feel like I’m truly free. Restricting.”
What? I never thought being a Master would be restricting. And it sounds completely ridiculous when he states he’s not free. Our eyes connect for a moment, but I quickly avert mine.
He continues. “It would be so freeing if I didn’t have to play by his rules anymore. But being his son, there’s no escape.” He sits down next to me on the bed, and goes on to ask, “What’s it like being a Laborer?”
“No one’s ever asked me that before.” When he smiles, I smile. “It’s restrictive, too. Way more restrictive than I’m sure it is to be a Master. I just feel…I mean…you know, don’t you?”
“I have yet to visit a Laborer compound or associate with your class. You’re actually, believe it or not, the first Laborer I’ve spoken with.”
“You don’t have Laborers working for you?” I ask.
“They’re all Advisors or Masters. Only the secondary Masters have Laborers work for them. Once one reaches a certain level, one only associates with Advisors and Masters.”
I had no idea there were lower class Masters.
“Well, Mai and my father are waiting for me. So I need to brief you about the obstacle courses. Each obstacle has a short cut or safe zones, and if you uncover it, the obstacle will become much easier. Some of the shortcuts are easy to find, others nearly impossible. But I can’t stress this enough for you, Heidi. Find those short cuts.”
“What specifically am I looking for?”
He exhales. “That’s all I’m permitted to say. These obstacles are created to evaluate you in three areas; intelligence, physical aptness and emotional endurance.” He sounds like he’s reciting a memorized message. “After completing the Savage Run, we will review your results and place you in the appropriate class based on those results.”
Savage Run Page 8