The Amplified

by Lauren M. Flauding

  And now I'm in here alone with nothing to distract me from my thoughts of Miles. Remembering our encounter makes me ache in a way I'm altogether unfamiliar with. It's an ache that I never want to feel again and at the same time I don't want it to go away. Before tonight, I believed my behavior and choices just affected me, but now I feel peculiarly linked to Miles and I'm suddenly terribly anxious to know the outcome of the Restrainers' decision concerning my future. I don't even know what I want their decision to be, I just want to be able to move forward. Why did Miles have to join the Dissenters? If he would have just stayed and become Amplified things could be so different right now.

  And yet, the way Miles looked at me before he fled still haunts me. It was as if my actions were the ultimate betrayal. I mean, sure, I was shooting at him, but he has to understand how hard it was for me to try to resist the command to kill him. Would he understand? I don't know if I'll ever have the chance to explain it to him.

  I need a distraction. I stand up and go over to the panel that controls the screens. At random, I push a few buttons and the room lights up with a dull, blue glow. I shiver as I look at all the images of still unconscious trainees strewn across the deck of the barge. I press a few more buttons and suddenly I'm watching Todd and Hannah kissing in one of the dorms. Immediately uncomfortable, I frantically run my fingers across the panel, willing the screens to show something else. The surveillance changes and I'm now viewing Governor Plenaris in the electrocution room with some of the Restrainers. They're gesturing to the override machines and I strain to hear what they're saying.

  "He was in here, why didn't he take them?" A wiry Restrainer comments. The "he" must be Miles. So much for trying to distract myself.

  "I found the Quillen girl here a few minutes later, she must have held him off." I recognize the Restrainer that took me to the control room.

  "The Override held him off, and the command was not executed very well through the Quillen girl," Governor Plenaris responds blandly.

  "But he could have alerted the others..."

  "No," the Governor interjects, "when I threatened to kill the trainees, the Dissenters fled. There wouldn't have been time."

  All the Restrainers nod in understanding. Not a single one of them seems at all shocked or indignant about the potential slaughtering of the trainees, of hundreds of members of the Community. Maybe it was an empty threat; a scare tactic to get the Dissenters to leave. Regardless, I feel sick.

  "Fortunately, only a few of the machines were taken, but they got far too close this time," Governor Plenaris states. Only a slight furrow of his brow interrupts his normally glassy expression. "We'll have to find out where they're getting their supplies from. They need to be cut off."

  There is an odd moment of silence as the Restrainers look at Governor Plenaris, but none of them meet his eye. It's almost as if they feel guilty for the current situation. He breaks the silence.

  "Well, we have one last thing to take care of," the Governor announces, almost cheerfully. "Shall we adjourn to the control room?"

  I gulp. I'm assuming that last thing is me, but the way he says, "take care of" nearly sounds like, "get rid of." I watch the group head out of the Coliseum and quickly move to shut off all the screens. I wouldn't want them knowing that I was spying on them. Although, considering their resources, they probably already know. A few minutes later I hear them coming down the stairs, their footsteps sounding as metallic as their uniforms.

  Governor Plenaris comes into view first, and I stand to acknowledge him. The Restrainers file in behind, followed by Talina, Justin, and a large, blonde man I don't recognize.

  "Have a seat, Miss Quillen," the Governor recites automatically, but I remain standing. For a moment, it appears Governor Plenaris doesn't mind, but then he presses a small, silver band on his wrist and suddenly I hear his voice in my head again.

  "Mari, sit down."

  My body clumsily falls into the chair behind me. I'm filled with rage as I realize that my previous fear is confirmed: The Governor has a personal Override machine that he can employ with only his thoughts. And I suppose the Override rules don't apply to him either; he can override someone whenever he wants, with or without an emergency. Doesn't seem very conducive to the Equality Movement to me.

  I study The Governor and all of his flaws jump out at me. One of his eyebrows is bigger than the other. His earlobes hang down too much. The color of his skin looks fake. And of course there's his awful, shrill voice that he accosts me with now.

  "As you may have gathered, Miss Quillen, the Restrainers and I have spent a considerable amount of time analyzing your decorum over the past few months. Please understand that we do not treat these matters lightly."

  Oh, just get it over with! I think. Either you're taking away my Amplification or you're sending me to prison! Stop wasting my time with all your formal statements!

  "After extensive deliberation, we have decided to make you a Restrainer."

  My jaw drops. I glance at the others, looking for some sign that this is a cruel joke, but they all look nonplussed; they knew this was going to happen. I expected a lot of different outcomes, but this is beyond any possible situation I might have imagined. Not only am I spared from prison, but I get to stay Amplified and become a Restrainer? I get to have enhanced Amplification? This is fantastic, but it just doesn't add up.

  "The Restrainers and I agreed that your skills and temperament would be best suited in serving the Community at maximum Amplification," the Governor continues. He gestures to the blonde man on his right. "Evan has agreed to be your personal mentor for the transition."

  I inhale sharply when I hear the name. I look at the man more closely and see that a patch of his blonde hair is missing from the side of his head.

  "He tried to strangle me!" I blurt out, suddenly aware that I've startled everyone in the room. "He almost killed me in the hover chamber!"

  "Yes, that was a test," Governor Plenaris replies smoothly. "It was an evaluation of how you would handle such a situation. Similarly, you were being tested when you were attacked by your peers earlier tonight. You performed marvelously. We would not have let them kill you."

  I open my mouth to respond, but I can't find words to convey my scattered thoughts. Taking my silence as acceptance, the Governor resumes his speech.

  "Because you will become the youngest individual ever to be appointed to the Restrainer position, certain precautions must be taken to ensure compliance with the Equality Movement."

  He keeps on talking, but I can't concentrate on what he's saying. I have too many fragments of events and ideas floating around in my brain, fighting for attention and order. The Governor has lied before, how do I know he's not lying now? Can I be certain that these attempts to end my life were really just tests? Or did he decide that if he can't kill me, he'll just have to keep me as close to him as possible by making me a Restrainer? Is this his way of discreetly controlling me? Of slowly killing my spirit? Plus, he knows I'm somehow connected to Miles, is he going to try to use me to infiltrate the Dissenters?

  The euphoria and relief I felt a moment ago gives way to a sickening, sinking feeling. I can't trade my self will for flattery and an attractive position. I can't trust the Governor, the Restrainers, or the Community. Suddenly everything I ever thought I wanted is slipping out of my reach, and by my choice. Things have changed. I have changed. To accept the Restrainer position would be to give in to the Governor's system of control. And I don't give in.

  There's only one way out of this.

  I turn my focus back to Governor Plenaris. He's still rambling on about the details of my transition.

  "Take it out," I say quietly.

  The Governor pauses, cocking his head slightly to the side.

  "What was that, Miss Quillen?"

  I lift my head, look him in the eye, and emphasize every word.

  "Take. It. Out."

  Something flashes in The Governor's eyes. Was it fear?

  "I don't u
nderstand what you mean, Miss Quillen," he says evenly. "You'll have to be a little more clear." He knows exactly what I mean. But if he wants me to spell it out for everyone so there can be no mistake, so be it.

  "I choose to have my Amplifier removed," I announce.

  Everyone else in the room stirs uncomfortably. I hear a few murmurs of surprise and shock. I glance over at Talina. She's smiling. The Governor clears his throat and the room becomes silent again. He studies me for a moment, as if weighing his options. But he must know that he can't deny me this choice.

  "Very well," he finally responds.

  For a moment I'm unsure what to do. Should I just go back to the Implantation Building and wait for an administrator to come take out my Amplifier? I don't have to wonder for long. For the third time tonight, the Governor's voice invades my thoughts.

  "Mari, remove your Amplifier."

  I look up in horror. The Governor returns my stare with an almost sadistic expression. I understand in an instant. This is his last chance to control me, he's not going to pass that up. My loathing for this man has just increased exponentially. To force me to operate on myself with nothing but my bare hands is truly evil. This is the man behind our "brilliant" Community.

  My fingers claw at the site behind my ear where the Amplifier is embedded. I feel blood running down my neck and I want to scream, but I refuse to let the Governor know how much pain I'm experiencing. My body starts to spasm as I dig deeper into my tissue. His Override is trying to get me to tear out the Amplifier, but I know that if I don't disable it first, the still-attached tentacles will damage my nerves and I'll probably die. My tears are flowing freely, but I still don't make a sound. With my last remaining shred of resolve, I stall the command of the Override and crush the flat base of my Amplifier with my fingers. I feel a slight release of pressure in my neck as the tentacles go limp. Of my own volition, I pull out the lifeless Amplifier.

  Then everything goes black.

  _________

  When I wake up, I'm in my room back at my compound. My head is aching. It's hot, and my skin sticks to the sheets on my bed. My mother is standing over me, smiling.

  "Welcome back, Mari."

  Read on for a preview of the second book in

  The Amplified series:

  The Dissenters

  Chapter 1

  I hear them before I see them. The pulsating hum of the sleek, black, air ships filling the sky above me sends cold sweat trickling down the back of my neck. Memories of people running frantically across the deck of the training barge, bloodied and stunned from the rapid fire coming from the foreign ships floods my subconscious. I escaped the deadly gun shots then. But that was when I was Amplified. All I have now is my own wits and a pair of skinny legs ready to run.

  I drop the bag of carrots I was collecting and sprint toward the silo. People thought my mom and I were crazy for building a shelter underneath the old structure, but now I see all the farm laborers running in that direction. I hope it's big enough to hold all of us. The black ships open fire. I run down the rows of crops, feeling dirt spray on my legs from the bullets raining down around me. I feel one sting my shoulder and out of the corner of my eye I see blood seeping through my shirt.

  "Mari! Help me!"

  I can barely see my friend Brexlynn stumbling out of the tall corn stalks. Her leg is covered in blood and she can barely walk. I double back and sling her arm across my shoulder, guiding her out of the field. She's so small, I'm practically carrying her as we run to the shelter.

  People are cramming into the small opening at the base of the silo. We're caught up in the frenzy of bodies and pushed through the small tunnel until we spill into the chamber that was crudely dug out with a modified backhoe. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimness — there are only a couple light bulbs dangling from the dusty cement ceiling.

  We built the shelter after working hours. My mother would secure all the equipment and instruct me how to dig out the cavity underneath the silo. I loved working the controls of that rusty machine, watching it respond so readily and move huge amounts of earth in seconds. We had a few people help when it came time for mixing and laying the cement and creating ventilation, but for the most part, we engineered and executed the shelter all on our own. Most of the other laborers would roll their eyes or laugh when they saw us working on it. They're not laughing now.

  "Careful! You're stepping on my feet!"

  "Sorry Judd, there's no room for personal space," I explain roughly to the older man as I push to the back. "We probably need to fit about 30 more down here."

  Judd grunts angrily, but nevertheless moves to the back of the room with us. I survey the people around me. Many are clutching wounded arms and legs, a few are curled up on the ground, unable to stand. Everyone is solemn. Some are in pain, some are distraught, but they all have a dead look in their eyes. They wanted to believe all the lies the Governor told to explain away the odd occurrences, the strange deaths, the numerous "accidents." But deep down they must have known.

  "I think I'm going to pass out."

  In all the chaos I forgot Brexlynn was next to me. I peer down at her small frame. Her face is pale and she's shaking all over. I help her to sit on the ground and look over her wounded leg. It looks like a bullet ripped through the flesh on her calf. There shouldn't be any lasting damage, but she's losing a lot of blood.

  I crouch down and tear off a piece of my sleeve to make a tourniquet above the wound. There's a stray burlap bag in the corner; I grab it and wrap it lightly around her calf, then sit down facing her and prop her leg up on my knee. She winces a little, but otherwise doesn't complain. Of everyone in here, it seems Brexlynn would have the most reason to be frightened. As she's the only other non-Amplified person my age, we naturally became friends. Her parents are under investigation for disloyalty to the Equality Movement, so she was transferred here from her compound and told she had to wait 2 years before she received Amplification. She still desperately wants to be Amplified, but she's handling the whole situation very well, despite how alone and ostracized she must feel. I feel alone and ostracized by choice, but at least I still have my family with me.

  I wonder what's happening at the school where my younger brother Daniel is right now. The Community has been adding security measures to the schools, acting as if it's just routine updates, so I'm hoping he's safe. As for my mother, I haven't been able to spot her in here yet. I can't see much from my position on the floor, so I get the attention of a man standing close by.

  "Do you see my mother, Felicia Quillen?"

  "She's right by the entrance," he responds immediately.

  I sigh in relief. I can always count on the men here on the farm to be aware of my mom. Seems like some of them never take their eyes off of her. Usually it's annoying, but today I'm grateful for their attention. No doubt several of them made sure she got safely to the shelter.

  The muffled gun fire from the air ships transitions into heavier explosions. The bombs don't seem to fall very often, but their impact is unsettling; shaking the already unsteady walls around us. The air is getting thin with so many in this small space, and people are starting to get anxious.

  "How long is this going to last?" Brexlynn whispers.

  "Until the soldiers stop them or they run out of ammunition," I respond feebly, trying to make it sound like a joke. Unfortunately, it comes off really foreboding.

  "Should have known they couldn't just leave us in peace," Judd growls above us. "We didn't want any part of their mind-addling technology or Equality Movement, and we're still targeted. We're stuck right in the middle of the conflict."

  The old man always seems to have something to complain about, but this time he does have a point. Most of the laborers have chosen to reject Amplification, and yet here we all are, bleeding and cowering from an enemy who is primarily seeking out the Amplified.

  "They just want the technology, they don't care who gets in the way," a woman next to him remarks. "Es
pecially a bunch of clams."

  There is a small uproar from her use of the derogatory term, but a large explosion overhead shakes the ceiling and silences the group. Soon enough, though, someone else a few feet away timidly breaks the silence.

  "I knew things were a little tense, but I never thought it would get this extreme. What's going to happen after this? Is this an invasion?"

  Her questions are met with more uncomfortable silence. Surely everyone must have an idea of what this means, but no one wants to talk about it. Perhaps they think that if they ignore it for long enough, it'll simply go away, much like the suspicions and threats that have been circulating for the past several months. These would be hurriedly stamped out or rationalized away by the Restrainers as the work of "irresponsible youth" or "harmless Dissenters," effectively appeasing the gullible minds of hundreds of members of our Community. But the events of the past few hours have destroyed that false sense of assurance. Despite what the Governor and the Restrainers have tried to keep quiet, the inevitable has finally happened.

  We're at war with The North.

  Chapter 2

  The air ships destroyed most of the crops. After I made sure Brexlynn was safely on her way to the compound clinic, I emerged from the shelter and saw that the fields had been completely bombed out. There are reserves at the nutrition factory, but probably only enough to last for two or three weeks. Looks like the North wasn't trying to kill us, at least not immediately anyway. They're wiping out our food supply and slowly killing us by starvation. It's a brilliant tactic, albeit merciless.