“We only have the one mess right now. The officer’s quarters are still under construction.”
It was noisy and standing room only. The tables were full of soldiers, all drinking and eating. A young man rushed toward us when he noticed Jack at the door.
“Captain Kenner, sir,” he said. “General Powell is waiting for you outside, in the back. This way, please.”
The man led us across the boisterous room and through a door into the backyard. It was much quieter here, with soft music piped in over a speaker system. A long table was set up under a canopy with a few people seated around it. I assumed this was the temporary officer’s mess.
General Powell sat at the head of the table. “There you are, Jack.” He motioned for Jack to take the empty seat next to him.
Hayley was the occupant of the other seat next to Jack’s. Her military cap was gone and I could see that she was pretty. Her brown hair fell in soft curls around her shoulders, a feminine quality that seemed out of place with the woman Alex and Jack had described. I noticed she was wearing makeup, flawlessly. Maybe it was instinct for the women of the Dome.
Her face lit up as Jack took the seat next to her and she scooted just a little closer to him. Those jealous feelings I thought I had buried came back to taunt me. I pushed them away. Now was not the time.
For a moment I just stood there with no idea of where to go or what to do. The two soldiers that made up Jack’s security team discreetly stayed behind him, away from the table but still close enough to protect him if it was required. There was a woman wearing dark glasses just like mine, standing in a corner by herself. I assumed she was another mistress and I took my place beside her. No one corrected me, so I figured I had done the right thing.
“It’s my first time. Can you help me?” I whispered.
She nodded almost imperceptibly. It was obvious she was doing her best to be quiet and blend into the background. I did the same.
“Jack needs a drink,” Powell announced to no one in particular.
The woman beside me cleared her throat, catching my attention. She motioned toward the mess and started walking in that direction. Now I understood. Powell’s order was meant for me. I followed her. We were almost to the door when Powell’s voice boomed again.
“Gaia, did I tell you to move?”
She gave me a strained, apologetic look and went back to the corner. I was on my own.
I entered the building and saw a long bar where soldiers were ordering drinks. It was busy, but I managed to squeeze in. The men behind the bar were filling glasses with a frothy beverage.
“Who are you here for, darlin’?” the bartender asked me.
“Mr. Kenner.”
“What would he like to drink?”
I had no idea, so I pointed to one of the frothy drinks. He left to get me one.
The man sitting next to me at the bar eyeballed me. “Captain Kenner has nice taste in urchins.” He leaned back to take a look at my behind. If he touched me, would Jack hear me scream? I doubted it.
“Here you go,” the bartender said.
Relieved to get out of there, I returned to the table outside and placed the drink in front of Jack.
“When did you start drinking beer?” Alex asked.
I almost did a head slap. I had no idea what Jack liked to drink.
“Recently,” Jack replied. There was a large piece of paper covering the table between Jack and the general. It looked like a map. Although my curiosity was aroused, I knew I couldn’t just stand there and join the conversation. I returned to the corner I shared with Gaia. Jack pointed to something on the map. “So what’s all this empty space over here?”
“That’s where the old city was, before the bombs. Back then people used steel frames to construct skyscrapers. They’re all rusting through now, and the buildings are crumbling. It’s not a safe area,” Powell said. He directed Jack’s attention to another area of the map. “We’ll continue to expand northwest and skirt around the old city. Over here is all farmland. We’ve already brought livestock out of the Dome—cows, sheep, chickens and pigs—and they’re reproducing nicely. Alex can give you a tour if you want.”
“Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks. How many residences have you built so far?”
“About two thousand, which isn’t bad considering we’ve only been out here for a little over a year and a half. Getting the infrastructure in place took most of that time. You know—roads, sewage pipes, cables and the like. Trenches had to be dug and the pipes and cables laid underground, although the urchins do the grunt work. Each house is equipped with solar power, but we need a backup power source for the long winter months. We started constructing a dam here.” Powell pointed at the map. “So we should have hydropower by the time Holt opens the doors.”
Jack was looking at the general intently. “Two thousand homes in not quite two years, so it’s going to take…what, another two or three years to complete?” Jack asked.
“No, it won’t take that long.” Powell shook his head and took a sip of his beer. “The infrastructure is complete so it’s just a matter of building another few thousand homes. There are condos under construction that will house a lot of folks too, especially the elderly. The only thing slowing us down is the replicators. If we could find a way to speed them up, we’d have it finished in about a year.”
“Only another few thousand homes?” Jack asked thoughtfully. He narrowed his eyes slightly. “So Damien intends to go through with his plan for the Pit.”
General Powell snapped his head up and glared at Jack. “Can I have a word with you?” His tone was threatening. Powell pushed back his chair roughly and stood. “Gaia,” he ordered.
At his command, Gaia picked up his drink and followed him. I scrambled to copy her, afraid of missing a word that might be exchanged between them. The two men moved to a smaller table where they could talk privately. Gaia set the drink in front of the general, and I did the same for Jack.
“I would think by now, Jack, you would know better than to blurt state secrets in front of everyone.”
Gaia retreated from the table and I moved to stand next to her, still within hearing.
Jack leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his beer. Although it seemed like a casual movement, I was pretty sure he was calculating his next words. “The city has progressed enough for people to realize that not everyone in the Dome will be living here. I figured it would be common knowledge by now.”
“Well, it’s not. If anyone else has done the math, they haven’t mentioned it to me.” Powell took a healthy swig of his beer and set it back on the table. “So have things heated up in the Dome? Any rumblings about war?” There was a momentary look of confusion on Jack’s face that Powell didn’t miss. “Communications have been down for…well, come to think of it they went out around the time of your wedding. Anyway, I have no idea how that day turned out.”
“My wedding day?” Jack said thoughtfully. “It started a riot in the Pit.” There was a note of understanding in his voice. Casually, he leaned forward, gripping his beer glass with both hands. “Promising the urchins a feast and then just giving them bread worked like a charm.”
“As Damien knew it would,” Powell confirmed.
The jolt that went through me was like a slap in the face. President Holt had deliberately taunted the Pit into a revolt? I was getting a bad feeling about this.
Jack shrugged. “It seems like he’s taking the long way around. He’s the president, so he can do whatever he wants. Why bother going through the trouble of starting a war?”
“Because he needs the Families to be in agreement about shutting off the ventilation system. If not, he risks a mutiny.”
I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep the look of horror off
my face, drawing blood with the effort. Crystal’s song came back to haunt me: “…the Pit they want to blow.” I looked out of the corner on of my eye to see how Gaia was reacting, but she remained unmoved.
“Personally, I don’t think he’ll ever get them all to agree. But that’s just my opinion,” Jack said.
Powell huffed a curt laugh. “You should know by now your father-in-law doesn’t do anything off the cuff. He’s been reducing the urchins’ rations and making their lives miserable for years. How much more are they going to take before they fight back? The Pit is a time bomb waiting to go off.” He took a sip of his beer. “He’s also reducing rations in the Dome and blaming it on the rising population in the Pit.”
Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “And that part of his plan is working—everyone in the Dome is getting nervous that the food supply is running out, and they’re demanding to know if it’s safe to come outside yet. Damien used the wedding for a few grandstanding speeches.”
Powell laughed heartily. “He probably had everyone feeling ashamed of themselves for asking!”
Jack smiled and nodded.
“With their rations reduced and nowhere to go, how do you think the Dome will react when the ungrateful urchins reward their hospitality with an uprising?”
“And if the Pit starts the war, the Families will have no choice but to agree to a defensive strike. They won’t argue when the president shuts off the ventilation system.”
“Exactly. He’s uniting the Dome,” Powell said. “Kind of ironic when you think about it. The urchins have been digging out that mine for three hundred years, not even knowing they were digging their own grave.”
Gaia tapped me on the ribs with her elbow and I turned to look at her. She was still staring at the ground and I realized I wasn’t. I was openly staring at the men with that look of horror I was trying so hard not to make. Relaxing my face into a blank expression, I bowed my head and covertly watched them through my dark glasses.
Jack’s knuckles turned white as they gripped his glass of beer, but he managed to keep a self-assured smile. “Sometimes I forget what a genius Damien is. Maybe he really will succeed in getting his master race.”
Powell looked at him in surprise. “You know about that? And you’re okay with it?”
Jack shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
The general paused, his eyes straying toward the grip Jack had on his glass. Jack picked up his beer and took a drink.
“Because the Kenners have always been big supporters of the Pit,” Powell said. “I recall it was your sterilization program that saved the urchins from an earlier Cull age. I’m kind of surprised you’re on board with Damien’s plans.”
Jack was responsible for the sterilization program? The person I had placed my trust in to help free the Pit—the man I was falling in love with—was responsible for sterilizing us? Despite the warm evening air, I began to shiver. Gaia gave my side another subtle tap with her elbow, bringing me back to the present. I realized I was staring at the men again.
Jack’s mouth turned downward as he considered Powell’s words. “He’s the president. He has my loyalty.”
Powell raised his eyebrows. “My apologies if you thought I was questioning it.” Jack flicked his hand as if it to brush away the thought. “I brought it up because you’re the heir. You must have your own agenda for when the presidency passes to you.”
“I think it’s a bit early in my career to have an agenda. I just started my training.”
Powell nodded. “And you must be doing exceedingly well for Damien to send you out here. This city is one secret he’s extremely protective of.” The general paused, twirling his glass on the table. “I hope you feel you can trust me as a confidante, Jack. I’d like to offer my services as your advisor while you’re working out that agenda.”
Jack smiled widely. “I appreciate that, General.”
The door to the mess burst open, momentarily filling the backyard with the beat of rock and roll and the noise of drunken singing. The bartender announced that the food was ready.
“Well, let’s eat. I’m starving,” Powell declared, pushing his chair back. “And keep in mind that at least out here, it’s not common knowledge. Until war is imminent, there’s no telling how people are going to react.”
Both men rose and headed back to the main table. Gaia walked toward the door to the mess and I trailed behind her. I was still in shock over what I had just heard. Although Crystal had warned us in her song, the thought of everyone in the Pit being killed was too unconscionable to believe, yet I had heard the general with my own ears.
I had also heard him say Jack was responsible for the sterilization program. My Jack. The man I had placed my trust in.
My whole world was falling apart and Gaia didn’t seem to be remotely affected. As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, I turned on her.
“Didn’t you hear him?” I demanded over the noise in the room.
“Yep.”
She turned away from me and headed toward the bar.
“Wait! It doesn’t bother you?”
“Of course it bothers me.” She stopped and turned around with an impatient expression. “Look, he’s been talking to Colonel Anderson about this for months and they’re doing everything they can to talk the president out of it.”
“So that’s it?” I asked dumbly. “You’re going to put all your faith in Powell trying to change Holt’s mind?”
“That’s all we have.”
“We can fight back. How many others from the Pit are out here? If there are enough of us —”
“We can…what? Build an army?” Gaia raised her eyebrows, pausing for my answer.
I nodded. That was exactly what I was thinking.
“You’re new out here, so let me enlighten you. We all have this little thing in our neck that instantly kills us if we walk in the wrong direction. All of the women are penned inside a corral that’s surrounded by both a wire fence and an electrical one designed to set off our tags. All of the men are penned inside a separate corral that is—you guessed it—surrounded by fences. The range is surrounded. The farms are surrounded. There are so many fences buried out here that we don’t know where to step. Now that you have the lay of the land, let’s get back to your plan of putting an army together. We’re all tagged and we have no weapons. And just in case you missed it, there are soldiers everywhere carrying firearms at all times.”
“You and I aren’t penned in an enclosure,” I pointed out. “We can do something.”
A look of understanding came across her features. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you meant we should put together an army of mistresses. That’s great. I bet we win.” She turned and headed for the bar.
Half of me was seething with anger that she could be so accepting of what was going on; the other half of me saw her point. Still, if everyone in the Pit had her attitude, we never would have been able to create the Alliance. I drew a deep, cleansing breath and followed her to the bar.
The bartender noticed us standing there and went through a door to the kitchen. He came back with a tray of food in either hand and passed one to Gaia and one to me. Just like the last time I served at a bourge dinner, the plate was heaped with food. There was a piece of grilled meat and long, skinny vegetables—potatoes?—cooked to a golden brown. The agonizingly delicious smell of Jack’s dinner hit my nose, and my mouth watered.
“Tell the general the rest of the meals will be right out.”
In silence, we returned to the table outside with the trays. Despite the chaos going on in my mind, the smell of food was making my empty stomach growl. As I placed the plate in front of Jack, we made eye contact for only a split second. So much passed between us during that brief mome
nt. I could tell he was uncomfortable. We were both now wiser about the war. And I was now wiser about his role as the heir.
I returned to my corner and tried to blend into the background. I was shaking with the injustice of it all. I knew the crime they were planning and I had no way of stopping it. My eyes strayed to the pistol strapped to the general’s leg, and irrationally I wondered if I could find any solace in grabbing it and putting it to his head. Although killing him might help vent some of the anger eating away at me, every bourge at the table would pull out his own gun and shoot me. Dead, I was of no use to the Pit.
A young man arrived with a three-shelf cart stacked with plates of hot, steaming food and he served everyone else at the table. The diners dug into their meal with gusto and shouted out their compliments to the chef. Reflexively I swallowed, the empty gesture making my stomach growl loudly. I noticed Jack wasn’t having any trouble eating his meal, although his beer was almost untouched. He carried on easy conversation with his dinner companions, joking with them in the way that only good friends could.
“I seem to recall your brother was always a better fighter than you, Jack,” Powell slurred.
“I’ll admit Ted’s better than I am—but I’m the second best the school has ever produced.”
Hayley turned a shocked expression on him. “You could never take me.”
“That’s because I always let you win.”
A chorus of ooooohhhh rose up around the table and some of the officers elbowed each other. Jack not only fit in with these people; they revered him. He hadn’t looked at me even once since dinner began and I was glad. Even though I was used to serving the bourge, I found it humiliating to be a slave in front of Jack, especially while the Dome’s finest celebrated his arrival. Maybe he was right after all—we had been equals in the Pit.
“Well, I have to say I enjoyed the prize,” Hayley said suggestively.
The table went wild with laughter.
“Jack,” she said, “you’re barely touching your beer. Didn’t she know you hate it? Would you prefer wine? Or an after-dinner scotch?”
Worlds Collide: Sunset Rising, Book Two Page 4