by Ann Christy
She counted all the ways in which she had done the right thing as she drew a card and then laid down a discard she should have kept. She and Leo had been running the silo in increasingly complex and difficult routes. They exercised and practiced turns, leaps and everything else that might shave off an extra second of time in a race.
They were blessed to live in the Mids, where their options for routes were far greater than those who lived Up Top or in the Down Deep, and they hadn’t wasted the advantage. From anywhere near the Mids a runner could choose routes that spanned upward or downward thirty levels with relative ease. By doing so, that runner would gain an intimate knowledge of all those levels and that gave the racer a decided edge during the race when the final route was drawn.
Lillian and Leo had extended that reach even beyond those levels to provide a passing knowledge for another fifteen levels going both up and down. Yet, all those advantages could be negated by a simple slip of paper drawn from a jar. Of the 99 routes in the jar, the final route drawn could be one that focused on the lowest or highest levels. It was all luck at that point. She just had to get to that point.
Leo took his turn, gave a whoop of victory after he drew his card, and laid down all his remaining cards for a neat win. She was left holding a handful of high value cards and her score went down even more than his went up. It was her turn to deal so she shuffled, but her thoughts weren't with the cards. She snuck a surreptitious look at the door across the hall.
There was one other important factor to her being chosen that she didn’t know and that was who the other candidates were. Each trial run called for only a few participants and it was confidential as to who was called. A candidate wasn't permitted to tell others and garner crowds for support. It was a timed race, an examination and that was it.
She knew of a few dedicated future contenders but she and Leo had practiced for years so that meant nothing when considering who actually tried out for any given year. Rumors of trial runs and who had been running were always circulating. A few names that had been tossed about were familiar. None of that could be relied on.
The same thing happened last year when it was rumored she was running and she hadn’t even been considering it. All the names she knew from rumor were formidable candidates, but she also knew many of their weaknesses, too. All she could do was hope for the best.
When she heard a deep and pained sigh, she shook her head and dealt the cards. It was another bad hand.
“Who do you think the other candidates are?” she asked him for the hundredth time.
Leo rolled his eyes in exasperation but his expression softened when he saw the worry on her face. He leaned forward, his manner confidential, so she leaned forward too, expecting to finally hear something new. He said, “There’s this one girl. I’ve seen her run and she’s amazing. I heard she was unbelievable during her trial.”
This was new. Lillian tried to think of who it might be. Leo and she had spent many a post-run hour on landings watching other runners and sizing them up. Some were hobbyists who just liked to run. Others were dedicated young people who dreamed of running the race one day. The smallest category of runner was the one that the pair paid the most attention to, watching their styles as much as their speed, and carefully gauging their agility over and around obstructions. Those were the contenders. Serious people like themselves, they often gave each other curt nods of acknowledgement, respectful if not friendly, in the manner of potential competitors since time began. Still, she couldn’t parse out who it might be.
“Who is it? Rebecca from hydro?” she asked.
Leo laughed and smacked her forehead with his cards. “No, rail licker! I mean you!”
She pushed his arm hard enough that he almost fell backward off the end of the bench, but she smiled when she did it so he would know she only meant it in fun. She drew a card and finally hit some luck so she laid down three Mayors and winked at Leo’s astonished expression. Competition between them was so long ingrained that they were deep into the game within seconds. The long wait continued.
Two
Leo tapped her leg again and she ceased the bouncing once more. She gave him a rueful smile and he returned it with a smirk that showed his lack of nervousness. She wanted to smack him for being so at ease during the interminable wait. She tucked that notion away for the moment since she didn't want to get caught doing it and give the wrong impression. She settled for reaching out after laying down a card and giving his knee a tiny, but decidedly hard, pinch. He squeaked and that made her smile.
The two young people provided a startling counterpoint in appearance as they sat on the bench, each with one foot flat on the floor, or bouncing rapidly in the case of Lillian. Both had the other leg curled up on the bench seat in a mirror image. Facing each other, a position far better for playing cards, they were alike as two people can be and not be twins or of the same sex.
Their dark hair was exactly the same shade and sported the same unfortunate cowlick on the right side of their foreheads. Their eyes were the same distinct shade of amber and, though Leo's features had a male cast to them, their noses and mouths were cut from the same familial mold. The only thing that wasn’t mirrored was the tiny birthmark on Lillian’s cheek. Even their mannerisms were alike and their relationship was as close as if they had been born twins.
In the complicated vines of silo family relationships they were classified as first cousins. In actuality, their blood relationship is that of half-brother and -sister. Their own mothers were sisters and when Leo's mother found herself unable to carry a child to term, it was a natural choice for her sister, Lillian's mother, to provide the Gift. She bore Leo for her sister and her husband just one year after Lillian's own birth. Seventeen years later, the two were still as close as siblings, complete with the occasional fight. Though neither expressed it in specific terms, both of them felt that it was right they should sit here together.
They got through one whole game of Run Me, with Leo achieving a winning five hundred points first, and were well started on their second game when the door across the hall from their bench abruptly swung open. Both had been waiting so long that they startled when the door opened and then jerked upright.
Lillian scattered her cards on the floor in her haste to rearrange herself forward. Both young people, so alike in their looks and their expressions, forgot all their promises to remain cool and searched the face at the door with eager eyes for some sign of their individual fates.
Lillian was disappointed she couldn’t see any hint in the older man's face. If he wore any expression at all, she couldn't discern it. Almost without thinking, Lillian reached for Leo's hand, a gesture so natural that she barely noticed she did it. She instantly felt a little better when he returned the faintest squeeze to her fingers. The man's eyes flicked down toward their hands so quickly the look barely registered, but Lillian eased her grip on Leo's hand and they separated.
"You first," the man said. He pointed a finger toward Leo and crooked his finger as if to hurry him along. Leo looked back at her and gave her a last brave grin before disappearing behind the rapidly closed door.
Lillian sighed and hoped that everything would go well for him. She picked up the cards from the floor and took a peek at the hand Leo had laid down so carefully before he was summoned. She thought he would have won that hand and gotten a boost to his points, especially considering her own miserable hand. After taking the time to sort the cards into suits and then into order of precedence, she had nothing else to do except wait and that made every minute seem to last an hour. Inevitably, her leg began to bounce again.
When the door opened again, Leo didn't emerge with the man. He was alone and said nothing, just beckoned her by crooking his fingers in the same way he had done for Leo. She smiled nervously at him as she stepped up to the door but he didn't acknowledge it in any way. That made her even more nervous. She tasted failure in the air and her stomach tumbled about in her body in anticipated humiliation.
> The combined clomping of their boots was loud as they walked down the long hallway toward the room where her fate would be delivered. She crossed her fingers and pressed them to the side of her leg so the man wouldn't see her doing it and think her silly. She couldn't be sure that her behavior right now might not have some impact and she wanted to take no chances.
The man stopped at a door labeled as a conference room, the white letters on the black placard so chipped and worn away that she couldn't tell what they were until she got close. He knocked once, a brisk and business like knock that didn't ask permission so much as to notify of entry, and swung the door wide. He motioned her in and then surprised her by wishing her good luck in a gentle voice as he closed the door behind her.
The room was brightly lit, the extravagant use of all the lights giving the room a white glare that Lillian found uncomfortable. She supposed it was meant to show how important the proceedings were. Perhaps show her that what was happening was worth the use of so much energy and so many resources. It just made her feel exposed to be under such harsh light.
Three people sat on one side of the conference table, each one wearing the coveralls and patches of their specialty. One wore the turquoise of Medical, another wore the tan of Administration and the last the bright patchwork of the Historians. Lillian evaluated their expressions but found nothing that dismayed her or gave her hope.
The woman wearing tan sat in the middle with a level gaze and still face during the long heartbeat of silence between Lillian stepping forward and the door closing. When the door snicked shut, she motioned toward the single chair on the other side of the conference table and invited Lillian to sit. Her leg started to bounce almost as soon as she settled into the chair so she grabbed her knee and squeezed. It was a trick she had learned in childhood when her forever bouncing legs began to drive her mother crazy.
The tan coverall wearing woman nodded to the Historian as if to give him permission to speak. He was a good looking man who would have caught Lillian's eye had it been any other day. He wasted no time and said, "I’m Historian Paul Hines. We are happy to report that your candidacy for the finals in this year's race has been approved. You are now officially a racer and will enter training as soon as you leave this room."
Lillian's relief at the words was immense and she gripped the chair to keep from squealing. She was a finalist! She would race! Her face must have given her happiness away because all three of the people at the table smiled.
The man from Medical, a senior medic based on his badge, pulled a single sheet of smooth paper from a slim file in front of him and asked, "Would you like to know the particulars of your results?"
Lillian nodded, not yet trusting herself to speak. She felt like bubbles might fly out of her mouth if she opened it. This was the moment she had been training for since she knew what the race was. And against all the odds she had made it. But what of Leo? She would think about that later.
The man looked at the sheet in front of him, ran a finger down writing she couldn't decipher from her position and started reading. "Right. It looks like your run time was third out of all the applicants." He looked up then and met her eyes. "That is very impressive."
She only nodded again, a grin cracking her face. She saw the man's lips turn up in a small smile before he started reading again.
"Your stability scores are outstanding. You have a very strong will and a balanced outlook. Umm....let's see, ah yes. Your physical went exceptionally well. You have astonishing flexibility and endurance, but you probably already know that yourself." The fingertip traveled down the sheet, paused a moment, and then he glanced at her again. "Your obedience scores were a little less ideal, but still passing. Overall, you came in as an excellent candidate and we wish you the best of luck."
They all stood then, each one shaking her hand and offering congratulations. Lillian accepted them, too dazed to think of anything other than the standard polite response. Another door, this one behind her, opened and she turned to find a different man than the one who escorted her in. He wore the blue and red coveralls of the racing team and Lillian felt a buzz of excitement so intense it was like being dizzy. She looked down to be sure her feet weren’t floating off the ground as she walked towards him. His hand hovered over the small of her back as he escorted her out of the room but the smile he gave her let her know he knew exactly how she felt.
She knew who he was, of course. He was Rusty, a racer from several years back and a particular role model for Leo, who admired him and had copied him endlessly in the time after his successful race. She wondered why he was escorting her out. Was it possible that Rusty was going to be her trainer? That would be too much to hope for. His own run time was unbeaten for the track chosen during his year, his subsequent run outside pure perfection and his success after winning was the stuff of future legend.
They walked just a few steps down the hallway when Lillian realized she knew exactly where they were. This was the training part of the level, accessible only by passing through the public parts of Level 34 and then through controlled rooms, like the conference room. The server rooms and other parts of IT were a part of the public spaces and she had been there before, but never had she been back here where only candidates and the winners, along with trainers and support staff, were ever permitted.
She wondered for a moment if she would get a chance to tell her family. She had just assumed that if she was judged worthy she would go home, pack her things and say her farewells before reporting to training. Clearly, she had been mistaken in that. It was probably best to wait until a more appropriate time before asking that. The last thing she wanted to do was seem like a baby now that she had finally been chosen to race.
At a door marked 'Training', Rusty stopped and faced her. He held out a hand and said, "I'm Rusty and I'm working this year's race."
It felt very adult to shake his hand. She had seen him running the silo more times than she could count and she thought it unlikely he hadn't noticed her and Leo running those same routes. It wasn't as if there were that many people running the routes.
"I’m Lillian. I'm glad to finally meet you too. I've seen you run," she replied and thought that was a good enough opening.
He smiled and nodded, "I've seen you and your cousin too. Before we go in, do you have any questions? Any worries?" He jabbed a thumb in the general direction of the door and what lay beyond. "Once we go in you're going to be very busy for a while."
She thought for a quick moment and considered asking about her family and about Leo. She must have looked uncertain because Rusty said, "You'll have plenty of time with family before the race. You'll be able to go home tonight. First you have some basic stuff to do."
Relieved to hear it, Lillian’s smile grew larger. She asked, "Will I get to tell them I made it?"
He nodded again, his dark hair shining under the lights, and reached for the door, "Anything else?"
"I can't think of anything at all right now. I'll probably think of a whole bunch of questions right about the time there's no one to ask."
He laughed and pulled the door wide. "Just like me!" He stood to the side and made as if to wave her inside, "Welcome, Racer!"
Three
Inside the training area, Lillian was faced with an array of people lined up along either side of her, the clear path between them one she was meant to take. They all clapped and hooted as she walked down the aisle they made with their bodies and she reddened in embarrassment, but smiled in pleasure as well. Several people reached out to pat her shoulder or back, while others reached out for a quick handshake as she passed.
At the end of the little aisle she turned, uncertain of what she should do, and looked for Rusty. He was back at the other end and smiling down the aisle at her. He shrugged and mouthed the words, "Told ya."
The group— for there must have been more than forty people— now broke and filled in the aisle as they formed a rough semicircle around her. She lost sight of Rusty but a woman stepped
forward and claimed her attention. She was older than Rusty, perhaps thirty, but very slender. Her shape gave her a boyish appearance in the race coveralls. Her hair was unusually light in color, a very light brown that bordered on a strange yellow color. It was that hair that finally prompted Lillian's recognition. She looked older than her portrait on the Raceway and Lillian had never seen her in person before since she lived in the Down Deep.
"You're Zara, right? I'm a huge fan!"
Zara looked amused at the expression on Lillian's face so she tried to pull herself together. That only made Zara laugh. She smiled and held out a hand, which Lillian took great pains not to grab at and only shake the exact two times required of a polite greeting. It was hard to resist.
Zara was a legend in the silo for race fans. She had not only beat the competition, but when one of her fellow finalists took a bad fall during a jump, she had turned around and ensured the boy was not in danger before continuing the run. Even with that delay, she won by a large margin and it was her distance marker on the outside that remained the one to beat.
"I am. One of these days someone is going to come in and have no idea who I am and on that day I'll be very sad indeed," she said with a bit of good humored self-mockery. She drew her brows together in a false grimace and asked, "You're the one that's going to beat my mark, aren't you?"
Lillian laughed in delight and nodded, her ponytail swishing behind her. She stage whispered, "I'm going to bury that mark I'm going to beat it by so much!"
Zara feigned shock but gave her a surprisingly hearty clap on the back given her thin frame. She waved an arm at the assembled group, still shuffling about to get in place, and said, "These are this year's trainers and support staff."
The veteran looked into the little crowd and pointed at one man, an older man that Lillian didn't recognize, and said, "Some are past winners that specialize in certain types of training." The older man nodded.