by K. T. Hanna
Bastian waves a hand at her, “Again.”
Barely able to resist muttering under her breath, Sai focuses all her attention back into the bowl of clouded substance, pushing her will into one tiny dart to try and draw the intricate patterns Bastian demonstrated to her twice. Her head spins, her vision blurs, and she has to grab onto the side of the chair closest to her.
“Control,” he says, and she can’t spare the concentration to glare at him.
She can feel his breath as he moves closer, so hyper-aware is she of her surroundings. When he speaks, the sound is magnified, like it echoes off the inside of her head. “If you’re deep inside someone’s mind, you have to be delicate.”
Her concentration snaps, and the gel-like water explodes up, splashing her face. Sai collapses into an undignified heap on the ground, shakes her head, and tries hard not to glare at Bastian out of the corner of her eye.
“I can see that, you know,” he mutters as he flips through some of the readers on his desk. “Get rid of that habit now. Appear impartial. Give nothing away, not even annoyance. Everything you demonstrate to someone else can be exploited, and I have no use for weak things.”
She bristles at being called a thing. “You’re not a very personable teacher.”
Bastian doesn’t acknowledge her comment, but continues to scroll through his reader. Sai scowls and wipes sweat off her brow, wishing she had her training clothes to change into. There’s a knock at the door, with the same sharpness the domino delivered earlier.
“Three minutes,” Bastian calls out softly without looking up from his desk. After a few moments and clicks on a different file reader, he hands it to her. “Study everything on this. Learn it, practice the exercises, and I will see you next week.”
“Next week?” Sai doesn’t quite understand. If he’s her trainer, shouldn’t he be spending more time training her?
“I’m not technically your trainer, Sai. No one here can teach you more than you already know, but I can guide you. Your abilities are unique. You’re my responsibility by default.” He dismisses her with a wave of his hand. “Your training is up to you now. Your strength and determination are your own.”
With those enigmatic words and uncanny ability to read through her shields, he swivels his chair around and ignores her. Sai pushes down on the rising panic, knowing he’ll hear her. But the old fears nag in the back of her mind. Maybe her parents ignored her for a reason.
Domino 12 pushes the door open as she’s dismissed and motions her into the corridor. This time she’s more curious about her new home. High concrete walls and marble-tiled floors stretch down every corridor. Even when they rebuilt Middle America after the Disaster Era, even before it became the GNW United Conglomerate, marble was expensive. Now? It’s priceless.
Does being brought to train at Central mean she’s worth something to GNW? Maybe it was Bastian’s plan all along, from the moment he took her out of the rubble? Is this where she’ll prove her parents wrong? She twists her hair so violently she gasps in pain and feels Twelve’s eyes rest on her for a moment.
Sai glances at Twelve with unabashed curiosity while she rubs her sore arms. “Do you know anything about subconscious mind-sifting techniques?” she asks impulsively.
His golden eyes narrow for a split second, something she would have missed had she not been watching intently. “Theoretically? Yes.”
“I never knew these techniques existed until today.”
“Then it is not just theoretical?” Twelve’s voice is soft, almost thoughtful. Sai looks at him, surprised at the change in tone. She’s never heard inflection in a domino’s voice before.
She sighs ruefully and rubs at her muscles again. “Technically. Though it’s going to take me a while to get the hang of it.”
“You should not rub. Not yet. Soak them first. Reach a relaxed state so you can better work on them.”
Sai isn’t sure she understands, so she stares at him.
“Soak them. You can’t afford to be sore tomorrow.” Twelve takes the turn without glancing at the numbering system indicated overhead.
“Tomorrow?”
“I will begin supervision of your psionic and physical combination training. There were horrible inadequacies in your last test. You’re lucky you survived at all.” He stops abruptly and pushes a well concealed panel, which swings open to reveal a decently sized room.
It distracts Sai from her indignation at the domino’s comment. There are two beds, one on either side of the room, with desks and bedside tables next to them. Between them, there’s a bookshelf with real books. Sai doesn’t think she’s ever picked up an actual book.
She walks over and touches the bindings, having only ever read them in digital form before. The paper pages are so soft and feel worn with age. She hugs one to her chest as she turns to take in the rest of her new quarters.
There isn’t much color in the room, just enough to differentiate the two beds. One is a grey-lilac and the other a blue-gray. She frowns, not sure which one to pick, and settles herself on the blue one, placing the precious book softly to the side.
The domino waits patiently at the door. “Your belongings have been placed inside the wardrobe. Do you need time to change clothes?”
Sai glances at him, then outside at the light beyond the window, and realizes it’s not nearly as late as her exhausted body tells her it is. She double-takes and looks at the window again. It’s not a slit up so high it serves no purpose, but a true window. Clear enough to see out if she pulls the cloth aside, even if the view is another concrete wall.
“Just give me a minute.”
She opens the wardrobe and pulls out a pair of sweats that match the blue-grey of her bedspread. Apparently she chose her bed correctly, and for a moment she wonders who the other occupant will be. It’s a shame; she likes her privacy.
Sai shuts the door tightly behind her, amused that Twelve’s back is to her. “I’m ready. Sorry for the delay.”
The domino shrugs, an eerily human gesture, not one she expected from him.
“I’m not needed elsewhere for now. It is no imposition.”
For some reason she can’t help but hear an implied “yet” in his words.
“I will greet you at 0700 tomorrow with a schedule. You will need to be awake by sunrise in order to take advantage of a decent breakfast before I come to pick you up. For now, I am responsible for you.”
Sai has to hurry after him in order to keep up and thanks her foresight to keep the twists and turns clear in her head. Each corridor mirrors the next. It would be far too easy to get lost in the maze of concrete and marble.
“This is the cafeteria,” he states as the hall opens into a large room. “If you are hungry, we can stay. We are not yet late.”
There are only a few people milling around in there; most seem to be passing through. Many identical tables and chairs populate the main part of the room, which sits in front of a large open kitchen. Dispensers line the huge bench between those working and those visiting the cafeteria. So many different varieties of food and none of it, at first glance, appears to be mash. Sai barely stops herself from gaping with surprise.
She looks around the room, trying to catch the familiar smell and where it’s coming from when she realizes it’s the same as in her old training facility. The light smell of lemon disinfectant. While the cafeteria is much bigger and better equipped, the scent comforts her with familiarity. Sai blinks, suddenly aware the domino is waiting for her answer.
“Not really hungry at all.” Although she hasn’t eaten since she left the hospital wing that morning, Sai has no appetite. In fact, her stomach is in knots. She keeps them at bay by telling herself advanced training is one step closer to redeeming herself.
“Sai?” Twelve bends down to peer at her face.
His iridescent countenance is almost blinding up close, and Sai reflexively shades her eyes.
He straightens up. “Sorry. I forget myself sometimes.” There’s a brief hum
in Sai’s ears, and a moment later, Twelve solidifies. His hair is a deep, auburn red and his eyes remain gold, while his definitively male body appears clad in some sort of leather armor she’s certain is adrium conforming to his will.
“Thank you,” she mumbles.
“We need to attend your orientation. A few of your year-mates made it to this city. They’ll take academic classes with you, but they’re not training under Bastian.”
Sai grimaces. “They’re not my favorite people.”
“Regardless, they’ll be there, along with Bastian, Zacharai, and Markus.”
“Those are important people.”
The domino stops for a moment and looks at her, as if he’s trying to read her mind.
“What?” Sai asks, trying not to let her insecurity at being scrutinized show on her face.
“You spent the morning training under Bastian, yet you seem surprised by the importance he holds.”
She shrugs and looks down at the ground for a moment. “I was in awe of him. Now I’m just in pain because of him. Takes your respect down a notch.”
The domino moves on. “Interesting.”
They come to another huge room, lined with seats and headed by a lectern. Twelve pushes her toward the side of the room and motions for her to take a seat somewhere. “Others will join you soon. I have duties.”
Sai takes a seat, pushes back her exhaustion, and waits, hoping to get some of her questions answered.
About forty minutes later, Sai sits in the same row as three of her classmates from pre-testing. She tries to distract herself by looking at the few others gathered, all around their age, but whom she doesn’t know. It’s hard to look at her year-mates, and even more difficult to sit with people who know she’s from UC 17 and are aware of what she’s capable of. Every time she’s around them, she feels her humanity slip away. What makes her better than the murderers sent to prison or exterminated? Not a damn thing. Just that some nice schmuck picked her up off the streets and took pity on her.
I said: Stop. That.
Sai looks up, startled, and notices Bastian at the end of the podium talking to two other men. His back is to her, but she knows the voice in her head is his.
City Planner Zacharai isn’t as tall as Bastian; in fact, he’s a few inches shorter. His dirty blond hair makes the man look like the slimy Shine dealers Sai remembers seeing in the foyer to her building before she blew it up.
The Chief of Law Enforcement, Markus, is the other man. He’s slightly taller than Zach, and the wrinkles cushioning his smile make her feel at ease. His dark brown hair is speckled with white and that familiar feeling is there, but again, she can’t quite place it.
A woman Sai doesn’t know welcomes them and talks about the central facility, giving directions on how to get to where. Sai notes that her former classmates write everything down. Apparently no one gave them a domino to hold their hands through orientation. About to snicker, she stops herself and schools her face into indifference.
Zacharai commands attention when he gets up to the lectern. Maybe it’s the cocky smile on his shady face. “We’ve gathered you here today because you’re the only ones in your year to pass the final test well enough to train here at Central. Believe it or not, that’s a good outcome. Some years we get none.”
The others—including Fourteen, Twenty-Nine, and Thirty-Six, if Sai remembers their numbers correctly—laugh nervously. Sai doesn’t.
Zacharai barely glances at them before continuing. “You’re each entering different specializations. There is one thing you’ll all have in common regardless of what you aspire to be. Paperwork.” He holds up a hand as if asking the protest to quiet down, and Sai has to force herself not to laugh at the melodrama.
“Every single action you take, every single mission you’re given, regardless of what kind, will require paperwork. You’ll need permission forms, supervisory details, requisition forms, and supply lists—all filled out in full and transmitted to your supervisor. And you’ll still be required to attend a prescribed amount of schooling per day. Together.”
He glances at them all. His muddy-blue eyes rest on her for a brief moment longer than the others. A shiver runs down Sai’s back.
“Your department dictates with whom you can talk about your work. Don’t speak to anyone outside your department about what goes on there. If you do, there will be punishment.” He waits, letting the statement sink in. It’s no longer difficult for Sai to keep a straight face. “Advanced history, politics, and theory will be part of your lesson package. Keep in mind, we expect a lot from you. We found you, educated you, and gave you a home. You leave the facility only when directed to do so. Your indentured time with us is a way to repay our trust in you.”
Sai isn’t sure why, but she feels the weight of his gaze on her again and blinks back the fatigue of the last few days, forcing herself not to waver under his scrutiny.
He continues after the weighted pause. “I detest being let down. Don’t do it. I’ll leave you in Bastian’s capable hands.”
Zach’s retreating footsteps are the only sounds left. Sai shifts uncomfortably in her seat, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the large auditorium.
Unlike Zach, Bastian holds no reader in his hands. He stands to attention and speaks with an authoritative tone. “This is my school. Do what you’re told, and you’ll probably never see me. Disobey any of my rules, and there will be consequences. Learn the rules, and don’t forget them. Any transgressions are enforced by me.” Bastian waits for a moment, and Sai watches as her classmates pale at his words.
He sounds cheerful when he continues. “Take the worst out of the stories you’ve heard about me and believe it. If you’re really feeling cocky? Go for it. But I’m not known for my patience.” Bastian looks at each of them in turn. “I don’t like being annoyed. Remember that. Ms. Janni will take you to your first afternoon class. Enjoy your learning experience.”
Markus steps up to the lectern with an apprehensive look at the device as he speaks into the microphone. “Sai, please come here a moment.”
She gulps, aware of her classmates’ eyes on her, and walks up to the podium. “Sir?”
He looks her over. “You turned out well. Much better than that beat-up and vacant-eyed child we picked up a few years ago. Heard you made an impression in your final?”
“Yes, sir.” Sai bites the inside of her cheek to keep from scowling at her lack of memory of the last fight.
“You’re in the enforcement department. I look forward to working with you if the situation arises.”
“Yes, sir,” Sai answers quietly. Inside she rejoices at finally knowing what it is she’s here to do.
Markus smiles and his dark eyes glitter with the expression. “Better run along to that class now, lass. Don’t want to be late for the first one.”
Sai dashes off down the path and out of the room, almost colliding with the tail end of her classmates.
“Hey, Sai.” Twenty-Nine has a haunted look in her eyes, and Sai finds herself not wanting to know how it got there.
“Hi, Twenty-Nine,” is all she says as she falls into step with the other girl.
Twenty-Nine flushes. “It’s Nimue.” She smiles tentatively, lighting up her pale, freckled face for a moment.
“Sai—but I guess everyone heard that already.” Sai smiles back but keeps her distance. Just because they’ve moved cities doesn’t mean anything has changed. Nimue, it seems, has other ideas.
“Sai, this is Kabe.” Nimue gestures to Fourteen on her right, which only leaves Thirty-Six on the left. “And this is Deacon.”
“Nice to...meet you,” Sai concludes lamely. She’s met them before, sparred with them before, but never really spoken to them. An awkward silence falls over the group as they walk down the halls.
“What did you think of orientation?” Nimue ventures tentatively, a small smile on her face.
Sai shrugs, not sure how to answer, but Kabe pipes up. “Zach’s my mentor. Isn’t Bastian y
ours, Sai?”
“Yes.” She doesn’t think admitting that will be a breach of her department.
“Really?” Deacon speaks for the first time. “What’s he like?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Didn’t a domino accompany you to the briefing?” Nimue’s eyes light up. “What’re they really like?”
Sai takes a deep breath to sort through all the questions, trying not to let the tension in her shoulders bother her. “They’re different than I expected. Very different.” They wouldn’t believe her if she told them he seemed human sometimes.
When they arrive at their classroom and file in, Sai sits down and shivers as the GNW mantra seeps into her mind on the hour, every hour, like clockwork.
For your own safety, please do not leave your designated areas. Report any unauthorized personnel immediately. Remember, the future of the GNW depends on you.
Like anyone could forget.
Training with the domino is nothing like the training at her old facility. Sai barely avoids another direct hit and bounces away lightly, trying to keep all of his movements in check.
He moves differently. Fluidly. Even after several sessions, it’s all she can do to keep up with his approach. And he’s right. If she’d had this type of training before her final exam, maybe she’d remember how it ended.
Domino 12 makes no sound when he moves, as if his body is part of the surroundings. Though he’s forsaken the chameleon capabilities and is easier for her to see coming, his body still seems to blend in and out occasionally, disorienting her.
She doesn’t see the punch. One moment she’s in ready mode, light on the balls of her feet, and the next, she’s hunched up on the ground, next to the wall.
Her jaw clicks as she moves her mouth, and everything around her shifts in slow motion. Even her body reacts sluggishly and unlike her own. She blinks, trying to regain her bearings, and starts as the domino crouches down in front of her, a definite frown on his flawless face.