I lean in until our noses are almost touching. “Looking forward to it.”
With one last scowl, Brock turns and leaves. Xu glares at me for a second, then follows. As soon as the door slams shut, Reed turns the dryer back on and asks the obvious.
“You want to tell us what that was about?”
I shrug. “Since the first of the year, Brock and Xu have been driving the old Red Cross truck through the west gate once a month. They leave about midnight, come back an hour later.”
“What are they doing?”
“My guess? Black market deals. It’s always right after our UN Inspection.”
Reed stares into space for a minute, then nods. “Zak told me he suspected Kino was selling our food for profit. I didn’t know Brock and Xu were part of it.”
I jump down. “That will get them off our backs for a while, but…”
“Yeah. They’ll still be watching,” says Reed. “And now we have to figure out how to steal the Bell right from under the president’s nose.”
Chapter 37
Riley
* * *
I spend fifteen minutes yelling at Oliver Tuesday night, but I don’t think I’m getting through. He’s putting up a wall so nothing can touch him. It’s like looking in a mirror, which only makes me madder.
We’re behind the kitchen now, letting the exhaust fans drown out our conversation. Oliver has walked away from me several times, but I just keep following him.
“Riley, give up already!”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” I glare at him. “Why are you ignoring Xoey? Avoiding me?”
“Leave it alone.”
“And why did Kate tell me to ask you about her bruises? I know you didn’t hit her.”
“Of course not.” But he looks guilty anyway.
“Oliver!”
“Can’t you just trust me?”
“You asked Xoey to trust you weeks ago, and she’s still wondering what went wrong. It’s hard to trust someone who’s…who’s being so weird!”
He shoves his hands in his pockets but says nothing.
“Look at it this way. If you were me and I was you, would you accept that answer?” I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
He wrinkles his nose and stares off toward the flagpole. “That’s different.”
“Why?”
“It just is.”
He tries to leave again. I grab his arm and lower my voice. “Xoey thinks you’re upset because she doesn’t want to help steal the Bell. You know, the Christian conscience thing.”
Oliver shrugs. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yes. Fine. If that’s what it takes, then I’m okay with it.” He steps away from the exhaust fan. “Some things just aren’t meant to…”
“To what?” I’m so frustrated I want to choke him. Why are boys so stubborn? “You’re making this a lot harder than it has to be.”
He clenches his jaw. “No. It’s just hard, and that is the way it has to be. Goodnight.”
He heads straight for the boys’ dorm. Since I can’t follow him there, I let it go. For now.
The next morning, my tragus implant bings before dawn, waking me from a dead sleep. An automated message follows, summoning me to Kino’s office. My heart thumps steadily as I pull on my clothes, trying not to wake the other girls in our room. It’s been months since I was called in to see Kino. It’s never a good thing.
I cross the courtyard, remembering the last time I stood in front of her desk. It was about a week before she cut off all our hair. I remember because I was fidgeting with mine while Kino showed me news footage from Baghdad, a city in the Islamic State that has been destroyed and rebuilt and destroyed again ever since my grandparents left it ninety-some years ago. In the video, women wearing burkas were lined up in a row with their hands tied behind their backs. Masked men with guns paced in front of them. From time to time, they would jerk a woman up, tear off her head covering and examine her as if she were nothing more than cattle. Some of the women were led away to a truck in the background. Others were shot where they knelt, crumpling to the sand as their souls flew toward freedom.
Kino watched me while I watched the vid. “It makes you wonder: what will a woman do to save her life? And does she ever regret her choice?”
I didn’t answer.
“What would you do? Are you a fighter, like your father? Or a survivor?” She paused, tapping her nails on the desktop. “Like Lexie?”
Today is different. When I get to Kino’s office the door won’t open, so I have to wait in the hall. A couple of minutes later, Oliver comes flying up the stairs and skids to a stop in front of me. As soon as he sees me, his face drains of color and he drops to his knees.
“No! No, Riley! Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?”
Before I have time to ask him what this is all about, Kino’s door clicks open.
“Paca. Penn. Come inside.”
Her office is warm, like always. I look above her fireplace by instinct, but there’s no video feed there today, just a disturbing image of a black-winged angel gathering the souls of the dead.
Kino follows my gaze. “Do you like it? It’s called ‘The Field of the Slain.’ Something about it makes me feel…decisive.”
I shudder and step away. Oliver stands just inside the doorway. I’ve never seen him this unnerved. Kino rubs her hands together and begins to laugh.
“I think I might have finally hit a nerve, Oliver. Am I right?”
“No.” He’s shaking his head.
My heart starts to pound. I step back toward the fireplace. “What are you talking about?”
Kino ignores my question. She circles her desk and opens a drawer, pulling out two objects I can’t identify. “What is it about you, Riley? Stringing along Reed and Adam. And now Oliver too? Maybe beguiling men is a family talent. You may end up at the Rose after all.”
I can only guess what she means. My heart feels like it’s trying to escape my ribcage, just like I’d like to escape this room. There’s no chance of that. Haak came in while Kino was talking. Now he grabs Oliver from behind and steers him toward me in the center of the rug. Oliver struggles, but it does little good. Haak is too strong.
“Oliver?” My voice sounds strange, like it’s coming from someone else. “What’s happening?”
“Yes, Oliver.” Kino’s eyes dance in the firelight. “You know how this goes. Explain it to her.”
“You can’t do this,” he says. “Middlebrooks said—”
Kino’s face turns red, which makes her eyes look like ice. “This is my school! Mine! My school, my rules. Don’t forget that!”
She’s next to me in an instant, binding my wrists and pushing me to my knees. Face to face with her lush carpet, I can see a dark stain, dried and crusted on top of the floral pattern. Blood. I begin to shake.
“Please,” Oliver says. “This isn’t necessary. I’ve told you everything—”
“No, if you had told me everything, we wouldn’t be here again, would we? But I can tell by looking at you. This girl is different.”
“She is my friend, but—”
Kino shushes him. I twist my head to see her coiling a narrow leather belt around her hand. It has a bright gold buckle that catches the firelight. “Oliver, where are you from?”
“Chicago! You know that—”
Kino raises the belt and swings it, striking my back. I flinch, feeling it cut through my uniform, bruising my skin. Oliver cries out and tries to rush toward me, but Haak holds him in place. Kino swings the belt again, somehow hitting the same spot, this time with no barrier of fabric. I whimper and bite my lip, trying not to cry. Oliver stays still.
“Please,” he says.
“And who were your parents?”
“Bruce Thomas. Kim Penn. You know all this!”
She strikes me again and I start to cry. Oliver is shouting, his voice hoarse with emotion. “No! No, I answered your question! There’s no need—”
“There’s EVERY need!” Kino shouts back. Her voice sounds thick with emotion, though I can’t understand why. “Because you insist on hiding things from me. And until I am convinced you’re telling the truth about every single detail of your life, this will continue. Do you understand?”
She grabs me by the shoulders and forces me upright. “Now look at her face and answer me. What are you hiding?”
Oliver is breathing hard, but he looks at me, just like Kino commanded. I see a thousand feelings pass over his face. Some of them I understand. Pity, nausea, rage, confusion. But there’s something else there, something guarded I’ve never noticed before. And now I’m starting to understand. Oliver has a secret. I see it in his eyes as one tear swells then rolls down his angry cheek. Kino knows it too and plans to get it out of him the only way she knows how, by beating on someone he cares about.
He keeps staring at me, but his jaw clenches.
I’m sorry, he seems to say. But I can’t stop this.
“So be it.” Kino swings the belt again. I cry out and fall forward. The belt hits me again and the pain is unbearable. My mind retreats to some place deep within. I hear myself screaming and Oliver yelling until he’s sobbing, begging her to stop.
I don’t know how long she beats me. It may only be minutes, but it feels like hours. I’m sure it would have lasted longer if not for Middlebrooks. My face is pressed against the carpet, but I still hear the click of the door unlocking. I recognize her voice as my salvation.
“What is going on here?” she demands. “Wanda! Stop this instant!”
“Madam Secretary, this doesn’t concern—”
“Who is she?” Middlebrooks interrupts. When Kino doesn’t answer, she repeats the question, screeching this time. “Who is it?”
Kino releases me and I fall to the carpet. Then Haak grabs my arm, jerking me to my feet.
“Riley Paca?” Middlebrooks is incredulous. “No. No, no! Wanda, how could you? She’s on my list!”
Kino clears her throat and walks back to her desk. “Order must be maintained, Yvonne, even in the midst of…celebration. You’ll see I didn’t touch the girl’s face.”
Middlebrooks has pushed Haak out of the way and is holding me upright. She looks at my back with a mixture of horror and revulsion. “It doesn’t matter if she’s too injured to stand, much less dance!”
She points to Oliver. “Here, you. Come help her! Take her to the Med Center at once. I’ll be along soon to make sure she gets proper care.”
Oliver takes my arm and guides me toward the door while Middlebrooks continues to lecture Kino.
“This is too much, Wanda! Too much! You know how important this is. How everything has been planned to the last detail. You know what’s at stake! And for you to interfere… I may have to report this, no matter who you’re—”
Her words are cut off as the door locks behind us.
I stumble in the hallway, wincing with each step. There’s no way for Oliver to help me without touching my shredded back. As he leads me to the Med Center, he keeps saying the same thing over and over.
“I’m sorry, Riley. I’m so sorry.”
Chapter 38
Xoey
* * *
Something is wrong. I know it as soon as I see Riley’s empty bunk this morning.
It is not unusual for her to leave early, spending a little time in the Hidden Library before our morning march, but when I find it dark and empty, I am instantly uneasy. It is a feeling I cannot shake.
She is not in the showers or the cafeteria either, but I have no time to keep looking. As soon as I am done eating, I head to math class. As I pass through the courtyard, I see students stringing lights in the trees, all part of the “magical” atmosphere Middlebrooks is creating for the president’s visit.
Yesterday I found out I will play a bigger role in her magical plans than I ever wanted.
I knocked on Middlebrooks’ office door at five o’clock, just like she asked.
“Yes, Xoey. Come in.” She summoned me to her desk near the window. Her office is just below Kino’s in the admin building and laid out the same, though it looks like it was furnished in a hurry. There are no rugs or lamps, no upholstered furniture. Nothing but the essentials.
“Now, let me hear you sing,” she said.
“I am not sure what you heard about me. I’m not…” I stopped and took a deep breath. “I’m not a performer.”
“No matter. Let’s just see what you can do.”
For a moment, I could not do anything. I just stood there, shifting from one foot to the other until Middlebrooks sighed.
“This is a wonderful opportunity for you, Xoey. And so important.” She nodded encouragingly. “It’s just you and me now, so please: sing.”
“Okay. Um, what song—”
She waved her hand in the air. “Anything will do.”
I cleared my throat and sang the only song I could think of: a short lullaby my mom used to sing. Middlebrooks listened without blinking, the same bland expression on her face until I finished.
“Good. Now something else, please. Maybe something more…popular?”
“Popular?”
“Yes. And louder.”
I frowned, mentally going through the pop songs I know. When I took full inventory, I settled on the Trinidad Ray song that was number one on the charts for most of last year. It’s a silly song with a simple melody, but I have heard it so often, it would be hard not to have it memorized. I cleared my throat again and sang, trying to be louder this time:
“There’s a mountain out my window,
There’s a river runnin’ through it,
Tired feet, wet hands,
Boy, what if we just do it.
Escape, escape,
Escape with me…”
When I finished the last note, Middlebrooks stood and clapped. “Yes! That’s exactly what I need.”
“Need?” I knew what she meant, though I tried to wish it away.
“For the president’s visit and the dance. You’ll come here every day at five to practice.” She rose from her seat and walked me to the door. “I’ll have songs for you to start learning tomorrow. You know the national anthem already, I’m sure.”
“I work every—”
“My dear, this is your job now. Don’t worry. I’ll clear your schedule with Director Kino.”
I walked to the cafeteria for dinner. I didn’t want to sing for the president or anyone else, but couldn’t think of any good excuse for getting out of it. Even while I was trying to fall asleep last night, I was thinking only of myself, worrying about singing in front of everyone.
I should have been talking to Riley instead.
She was preoccupied during dinner and before she followed Oliver out of the common room, but she refused to talk about it after curfew and I did not press her. As the hours pass today and I still don’t see her anywhere, my worry grows. She is not in history class, even though we have a test. She is not in the cafeteria at lunchtime.
By five o’clock, when I return to Middlebrooks’ office, I am sick with worry, imagining everything, imagining the worst. I sing through the national anthem once, but stumble over the words. My voice wavers.
Middlebrooks sighs and sets down her tablet. “I can see we are both distracted today.”
“Yes.” I’m scared to ask, but desperation pushes me. “I’m worried about my friend, Riley. I have not seen her all day.”
Middlebrooks looks out the window. “Riley Paca.”
My heart turns over. She is not asking. She knows something. Tears rush to my eyes. “Has Kino sent her away?”
Middlebrooks shakes her head. “No, my dear. She’s in the Med Center.” She brightens her voice. “And on the mend by now, I dare say.”
“Why? What happened?”
Middlebrooks rises and walks me toward the door, avoiding my eyes. “I tell you what. I’ll take you to see her, if you don’t ask any more questions. What’s done is done. It�
��s in all our best interest now to focus on helping her recover quickly.”
We climb the stairs to the Med Center in silence. I have not been here since the night Oliver and Riley broke into the Medibooth to save my life.
“Over here.”
Middlebrooks walks toward a private surgery bay in the corner and draws back the curtain. Riley is there, sleeping on her stomach. A thin layer of gauze covers her back, but it is sheer enough to reveal angry welts and lacerations underneath it, sutured and treated with smelly ointment. The tears I have been holding back gush out in a noisy sob. I rush to Riley’s side and take her hand.
“She’s getting the best care.” Middlebrooks crosses her arms and steps back toward the door. “I pulled some strings, using my own personal health credits to authorize the stitchbots to fix her up. They did a good job, I think. And with the medication she’s taking, she’ll be up on her feet by tomorrow and twirling on the dance floor by next weekend, I have no doubt.”
“Is that the only reason you helped her? So she can dance for your cameras?”
The question comes from the doorway where Oliver is standing, holding a plastic pitcher of water. His eyes are red and his face is so pale, he looks like a shadow of the boy I know. He does not look at me.
“Of course not, Mr. Penn. But I’ll excuse your resentment this time. I know you are…hurting as well.” Middlebrooks backs out of the way as he carries the water toward Riley and sets it by her bedside.
I look between them. “What happened? And what’s Oliver got to do with it?”
“I told you not to ask, Ms. Stone.” Middlebrooks looks hard at Oliver. “No need to stir up trouble.”
“I didn’t start this, though, did I?” Oliver spits out the words.
Middlebrooks’ voice loses all its softness. “I have no idea who started it, but it’s time to keep peace now. Can I trust you to do that, Mr. Penn?”
For a minute, Oliver says nothing. Then he unclenches his fists and nods.
“Good.” Middlebrooks turns back to me. “Now, sit with her as long as you like, Xoey. Cheer her up when she wakes. I’m sure it will aid her recovery more quickly than you can imagine. I’ll find Mr. Vardelos and make sure you’re not disturbed.”
Stealing Liberty Page 23