Out in the countryside, with fewer neighbors, she rarely saw anyone outside the household staff anyway, unless she was sent on an errand to town. It was good they’d moved. There were less people to judge them, less high Numbers to call on her father, out of curiosity, to see his low Numbered daughter.
Although Byron Vandereth still traveled for business on behalf of the Number One, they no longer took family vacations. Low Numbers weren’t allowed to travel between cities without permission. Regulators stood at watchtowers near every city wall, checking Identity Cards at every gate. Evalene couldn’t travel for pleasure anymore. She couldn’t go anywhere, period.
She finished her morning chores early and raced down the back stairwell on silent slippered feet, taking them two at a time. She had about ten minutes until it was time to start breakfast.
Reaching the back door, she glanced around, then snuck out into the backyard. Behind the homestead’s gardens were another twenty-acres of rock formations, twisting desert ravines, and sharp cliff walls.
Hurrying through the cultivated gardens, she reached the end of the green grass and entered the dry, brown desert, stepping into a small rift between cliff walls. As she rounded a corner and the path faded away, she knew without looking back that she was out of sight of the main house now. Thankful as always for the cover of the rocky hills, Evalene raced along the bottom of the valley towards the one small crooked tree ahead.
Kevra Greene was already waiting under the tree, their designated meeting place before breakfast, if they had time. Kevra always had time. She didn’t start work until nearly an hour after Evalene’s morning chores. As a higher-level employee working in the local television factory, she had the privilege of leaving work behind in the evenings, and even had her weekends off, unlike Evalene, whose entire life was devoted to the household, all day, every day, for the rest of her life.
Kevra grinned when she saw Evalene. Her crooked teeth made her look impish, and her red hair and sparkling green eyes added to the effect. Her gray clothes marked her as a lower Number, but in the class above Evalene’s. Her tattoo was highly visible, of course, with her red hair pulled back per the law, showing her Number 23 tattoo.
Kevra’s parents had been hired on shortly after the household moved from the city. Her mother worked in the garden and her father in the garage. When Kevra showed up to eat in the kitchen with Evalene on that first day, it was as if she’d been there all along.
Unlike everyone else, even though Kevra had full authority over Evalene as a superior Number, she didn’t act more important or abuse her power, the way Daeva and some of the other staff did. Sure, she could be bossy, but she was that way with everyone. Her friendship over the last five years was the only thing keeping Evalene sane.
Kevra didn’t even wait for Evalene to reach her. “I’ve been dying to talk to you since I picked up the milk this morning. But I’m scared you’ll feel you have to turn me in because it’s, well, it’s disloyal…” Kevra’s words tumbled out on top of each other as Evalene approached. “But of course, I know you won’t turn me in, because no one would believe a lower Number, so there’d be no point –”
“Kevra!” Evalene stopped short in front her friend, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “Talk about what? What’s disloyal?”
Kevra squinted at her, frowning. “Wait, you don’t know?”
“Know what?”
Turning, Kevra reached behind her to pick up the milk delivery carton from where it sat on a tall rock. Her little apartment above the garage where she lived with her parents received two jars of milk a week while the Vandereth household received six. Evalene hadn’t noticed the small containers until Kevra pulled them forward. Why had she brought her household’s milk jars all the way out here?
Kevra reached underneath the jars and pulled out what looked like a small poster or flier. She waved it in excitement so that Evalene couldn’t make out any of the words written on it. “This. This bulletin came in the bottom of the milk delivery this morning.”
“I haven’t picked up the milk yet –” Evalene tensed, trying to think if anyone might be in the kitchen right now waiting for it. “What is it? I only have a few minutes. Show me quickly!”
Kevra held out the tiny paper and Evalene snatched it from her hand. The top of the little bulletin had huge bold font and Evalene read it aloud, “OUR WORLD CANNOT EXIST HALF SLAVE AND HALF FREE!”
She gasped. This was treason!
Glancing at Kevra, Evalene saw her friends jaw tighten in response, hands clenching at her sides.
Returning her gaze to the bulletin, Evalene stared at the six boxes they’d drawn beneath the words. Each box held a simple caricature of a person from a different Number category. A woman in an expensive blue dress, and just above her elaborate sapphire necklace, the Number 2. The second box held a man wearing the stern black uniform of the Regulators, not bothering to cover the Number 11 on his neck. The third held a priest, Numbered 12, wearing the traditional white robes. Next a curly-haired woman wearing a fierce red, a Number 15 tattooed on her neck.
The last two boxes resonated deeply with Evalene. They held a woman in gray who frowned just like Kevra was now, Numbered 20, and a man wearing a shade of brown identical to Evalene’s skirt, Numbered 28. Both of them without any neck covering, following the laws that Grays and Browns always reveal their Number in public. Both looked haunted.
Evalene shook herself. She had less than a minute before she needed to return to the house. Below the six people was fine print. She began to read out loud again, feeling her skin grow cold and clammy at the words.
“107 low Numbers executed last year alone... 792 known low Number suicides or disappearances... Approximately 28,000 ‘given’ the Number 11 over the last ten years,” Evalene stumbled over the word given as she realized it was mocking the idea. She paused to glance at Kevra, whose face was hard.
Swallowing, Evalene read on, “The Grid shoots down any plane trying to enter or exit Eden… Not even the birds are safe… None of us can leave… Life expectancy for low Numbers: 38 years... Civil rights for a lower Number: None.”
Taking a deep breath, Evalene let the words sink in, staring at the final thought written across the bottom of the bulletin, in the biggest font yet.
THIS IS NOT RIGHT.
Softly, she repeated the treasonous statement in a whisper, “This is not right.”
The words transported her to a moment in her childhood. She’d come in from playing outside and found her parents arguing on the other side of the study door. Pearl’s voice whispered, “It just isn’t right!” And Byron’s softer, more feeble reply, “I know. But what can we do about it? What can anyone do?” As little Evalene had cracked the door open wider to see her parents, the hinges squeaked. Pearl had picked her up with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and they were off to the kitchen. Evalene had completely forgotten the conversation until now.
Kevra didn’t say a word, just took the bulletin when Evalene handed it back to her. They stood next to the small tree in silence, afraid to say anything beyond what the bulletin said, anything personal. They both knew what happened to someone who was turned in as a traitor. Staring at the ground, Evalene whispered, “I think my mother was involved in the Bloom Rebellion.”
She was surprised when Kevra nodded. “That’s what most people say.” They’d never talked about Pearl before. The rumors must still be circulating, if Kevra had heard. Evalene hated herself for being cowardly, but chose the safe response. “I don’t know what to think.”
Kevra didn’t say anything back for a beat, but when she did, her voice was firm, confident. “I do.” Standing, she put the bulletin safely back inside the metal container under the milk jar. “I agree with it. And you can turn me in if you want to, but I’ll just say you’re lying and who will they believe?”
Grabbing Kevra’s arm to stop her from walking away, Evalene said, “Kevra, I would never turn you in!” Glancing around to make sure no one wa
s near, Evalene lowered her voice. “I promise you don’t have to worry about that. And… I agree too.” This was her friend. The one person in the whole world she could trust. She knew Kevra would never betray her.
Kevra stretched her lips in a thin smile. “Good. I’m not going to turn you in either. But you should probably get the milk. If the household got a bulletin too, Daeva’s going to kill you.”
Racing away from Kevra towards the house, Evalene only had one thought. The milk delivery was her job. She panicked imagining Daeva asking if she’d written those words. No one else could see that pamphlet.
Evalene cracked open the back door, snuck down the hallway and worked her way through the rooms most likely to be empty until she reached the front door. She stepped onto the porch, pulling the front door closed behind her, and making sure she was alone before she knelt to lift the freshly delivered jars of milk, one by one. There it was.
She pulled the paper out to read it again, much quicker. The last phrase echoed in her mind the entire time. This is not right.
Scanning the front yard and drive for any prying eyes, Evalene discretely folded the bulletin in half twice before burying it deep in her dress pocket. Picking up the milk carton, the jars jostled together noisily as she entered the house. She took a few deep breaths to slow her heart rate.
The bulletin stayed in Evalene’s pocket while serving breakfast, feeling like it weighed 10 pounds. After the meal, while she was supposed to be dusting, she snuck away and hid the scandalous thing in her sock drawer. Daeva would never see it.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Evalene returned to her chores until after dinner, when the household gathered as usual to watch the nightly news. She stood in the back of the room with the servants.
Within moments of the show’s start, the station declared a state of emergency.
“We have a villain on the loose,” the first newscaster said, frowning deeply and leaning forward in his seat in a way that formed wrinkles all over his heavy blue suit. “Opal, tell them the story.” It was their usual banter, performed nightly, and was supposed to come across conversationally, but his words came out sharp and angry instead.
“Ah, yes, thank you Sterling,” said his fellow newswoman, smiling even as she shot him a look of annoyance. “We have breaking news. Today, just this morning in fact, a prankster exposed a small portion of our great country to false propaganda.”
A photo of the bulletin replaced the two newscasters on the screen, but the station blurred out all the words, and held it under a pulsing red light, making the page seem angry and aggressive. Evalene barely held back a gasp of recognition. She regretted hiding it from Daeva now. She schooled her face to be as surprised as everyone else in the room, although no one was looking at her. No one knew when someone might be watching on the other side of the screen.
The woman on the television continued, “These false advertisements were found in the bottom of some of the population’s milk delivery just this morning. It is unknown how many were distributed, but we suspect the jokester will be apprehended very soon.” She smiled as if she were talking about a small child, shaking her head at the newsman, who smiled back and nodded. As she went on with the report, her voice became more conspiratorial, leaning in towards the camera with a smile, “Although we know the citizens of Eden are all loyal to the Number One, we want to emphasize that the facts listed on the bulletin have no concrete proof, and confirm that they are completely inaccurate. We cannot believe everything we read. Right, Sterling?”
The newsman smiled too, visibly relaxed now, as they wrapped up the emergency announcement. “That’s right, Opal. It sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me. Some people just want to scare others. But as always, the Number One keeps us safe. Our Number system guarantees it!”
They moved on to news about the Number One’s annual festival celebrating the success of the Number System, but Evalene couldn’t pay attention. Everyone in the room was sneaking glances in her direction. When she was younger, she would’ve spoken up immediately, said something about their household not getting the bulletin. But lower Numbers must wait to be spoken to. She forced herself to wait. And wait. Someone would ask her soon enough.
By the time the program ended, Evalene was wound so tight she ducked out of the room before anyone could say a word, hurrying to the kitchen to finish cleaning. Instantly she regretted leaving. It made her look guilty. But she didn’t have time to agonize over it. Daeva burst into the room.
“Where did you put it?” Daeva demanded, marching across the room towards her.
Evalene tensed, retreating automatically. She hurried to answer, “I never got it, I swear!” She put both hands up in front of her. “You heard the news. ‘Some’ households got it! Not all!” Daeva continued to advance, balling her hand into a fist. Evalene backed up, knocking over a chair, and cried out, “I promise you, Daeva, please believe me. I would have brought it to you immediately if I had!”
Daeva stopped less than a foot from her and stared into her face, so close Evalene was scared to breathe. “Is that so?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Evalene nodded, biting her lip and looking down. Catching herself acting guilty, she tried to meet Daeva’s glare instead.
“Hmmm,” was all Daeva said in response. She turned sharply and left the kitchen. Evalene felt tremors of anxiety. This could mean the subject was closed, or it could mean Daeva didn’t believe her.
Creeping up to the swinging door of the kitchen, Evalene cracked it open. Daeva was speaking with one of the maids. “Tell Master Byron it appears we did not receive a bulletin,” she was saying to Violet.
Evalene sighed in relief, gently closing the kitchen door. After a moment’s thought, she decided to commit the bulletin to memory, then tear it into shreds and burn it in the wood stove. Picking up a broom, she began sweeping so Daeva wouldn’t catch her standing idle.
6
Bulletins
T HE ATTIC WINDOW WAS the only place in the house where someone could see past the backyard gardens full of trees and rock formations to the crooked little tree on the other side of the rocky hill where Kevra waited. Her friend was pacing, probably having been there a while. But thanks to extra chores from Daeva, Evalene didn’t have time to meet her. It was two long days before they were able to speak again.
Rushing towards their meeting place on the third morning, Evalene arrived at the tree at the same time as Kevra. She impulsively hugged her friend.
Kevra laughed, pushing Evalene’s arms off and stepping back. “What was that for?”
Evalene tried to laugh too, but her chest was too tight. “The house has been tense lately.” An understatement.
Settling onto one of the larger rocks, Kevra patted the bumpy surface, inviting Evalene to join her. “Come sit. If you think the household is upset, you should see the factory!”
Evalene shook her head, too nervous to sit. “After watching the news, I can imagine.”
“The news only tells you what they want you to hear,” Kevra shook her head, standing to pace, “but work is buzzing with rumors. You know, I only work in the Circuit Board Department, but my friend Jade in Cables says they’re lying through their teeth. Every one of those statistics is true. I guarantee you this isn’t just some prankster.” Kevra stopped pacing abruptly. “And it wasn’t just a small area that got the bulletins by the way. The whole country got them!”
“You’re kidding,” Evalene breathed, suddenly needing to sit after all. “Do you think it’s leading to another rebellion?
Kevra lowered her voice in a whisper, “That’s what everyone’s wondering. They’re saying the people disappearing aren’t random. That the Regulators are part of it, taking anyone they observe with insubordinate tendencies.”
“What do you think it means?”
Kevra shrugged. “Well, don’t talk in front of your TV, obviously. Or in front of anyone you don’t trust. Anyone could be an informant. But I’ll tell you one thing for sure: this isn’t going to
die down this time.”
This time. Last time it’d been this bad, Evalene had been just nine years old. The daughter of a Number Four and Six, whose mother was still alive. A foolish child who had wanted the rebels to lose. She didn’t feel that way anymore.
Every morning for the next three weeks, Evalene checked the milk delivery at the crack of dawn, before meeting Kevra, sometimes waiting on the doorstep for it to arrive.
Every morning, nothing.
Then one day, as she lifted the milk jars one by one, there it was. Another bulletin.
Pulling it out slowly, heart beating fast, Evalene saw it was even more straightforward than the last. A banner across the top screamed in bold block letters, “NO MORE NUMBERS!”
Evalene choked.
Coughing, she glanced around, worried someone would hear her. She hurriedly read the rest of the flyer.
There was a cartoon sketch again, but this time the artist simply put one man in the middle, faceless except for an angry mouth. His neck was noticeably bare, Number-free. This man was standing with hands outspread, defiantly holding back a swarm of Numbers, swirling all around him in the air like a cloud of flies, shouting just one word, “NO!”
It was such a simple image, but the idea of saying “no” to her Number fascinated Evalene. Something small and fragile blossomed in her chest. Something she hadn’t felt in five years. It felt light and hopeful.
Below the image were three simple phrases.
“FREEDOM. EQUALITY. It’s TIME to be NUMBER-FREE!”
Frightened, Evalene instinctively reached both hands to the top of the bulletin to rip it in half like the last one. She caught herself just in time. The household would expect to see this.
Undoubtedly the Regulators would find out, and it would be on the news again, probably tonight. If it didn’t show up a second time, Daeva would assume she was somehow a part of it, maybe even report her. It wouldn’t even matter that it would be false information. As a higher Number, Daeva’s word was the only one that counted.
Evalene's Number: The Number Series Page 4