by Gwynn White
“Maybe they were having too much fun traveling and built new lives elsewhere,” Ember offered, suddenly feeling a bit dizzy. She was determined to fail testing. Did that mean they’d make her disappear too? A week ago she would have doubted the theory, but having been kidnapped from her own home, she fully believed it was possible.
She’d just have to fail and make sure they sent her home. There was too much at stake.
Mar was still picking at her food.
Ember brushed the thoughts away and forced some cheerfulness into her voice. “If being a flicker is what you want, I’m sure you’ll accomplish it. Shall we go find our quarters?”
“Absolutely.” Mar stood and marched out with Ember, briefly pausing at the transition from cafeteria to corridor. As Ember gave the cafeteria one last look, she noticed Stefan watching her.
Ember’s room wasn’t too difficult to find. Mar’s quarters were just across the corridor and three doors down. The girl gave her a friendly wave and went inside. By the smile on her face, Ember suspected she’d already put Eris’s mocking behind her. Or maybe she was great at pretending.
The door to Ember’s quarters whooshed open as she approached. Probably responsive to her wristband. She stepped inside, curious to see what Talon’s gushing had been about.
The room was smaller than her bedroom at home, but the ceiling stood taller. A bed sat against the left wall and a desk in the other corner. Her mind registered the furniture with a single glance. All Empire-made, a hard plastic. An open door next to the desk revealed an automatic bucket—er, bathroom—much like the one on the shuttle and a tiny shower. But what really caught her attention was the window on the far wall.
She found herself walking toward it, mesmerized, as the door closed behind her. Instead of the dull-gray atmosphere she’d seen before, a glorious array of stars littered a black sky. Two satellites orbited in the distance like bright, moving stars.
Ember had seen the night sky many times on Earth, but she’d never seen it from space. Even the tiny window on the shuttle hadn’t prepared her for this. She’d never felt so small, so utterly and completely alone.
When a tiny beep sounded from the desk, she tore herself away from the window and made her way over. A red light flashed on the desk’s black surface. She tapped it, and an automated voice said, “Good evening, gypsy. What sounds would you like to play tonight as you sleep?”
Gypsy? Did they even care what her name was? Pushing away her irritation, she scanned the options. Instrumental music. Hard music. Beach waves. Crickets and forest.
She tapped the one that said “Rural” and was immediately comforted by the soft sound of clucking chickens. There were cows in the background instead of goats, but it was close enough.
A nice room, Ember admitted to herself. It had to be some kind of manipulation, a sample of the lavish lifestyle that awaited them if they succeeded in moving on to training. She threw herself onto the bed. For a military bed, it was surprisingly soft. Too soft. Her own mattress was made of straw and bits of cloth. All the gadje-made mattresses from before the exodus had rotted long ago.
She searched the room for cameras and found none. Eventually Ember yawned, feeling the day’s events quickly catching up to her. Maybe she’d make it an early night.
“Lights,” she said. The lights immediately clicked off. At least that kind of tech made sense.
A dull light radiated from the thousands of stars out her window. One of them, so far from here, was her home.
Tomorrow she would prove she didn’t belong here. That meant failing whatever test they had planned in the morning. The Empire would send her home then. She’d make sure of it.
Ember removed her jacket and pulled a blanket over herself, letting exhaustion overcome her at last.
11
Flicker testing, phase one,” an automated voice said. “Deck 14, room B72. You are due to arrive in ten minutes.” A pause, then it started over again. “Flicker testing, phase one . . .”
“Stop it,” Ember groaned at the voice. There had to be a speaker in the wall somewhere next to her head for it to be this loud.
“Request denied. Deck 14, room B72. You are due to arrive—”
“Shut up.”
“Request denied. Flicker testing, phase one.” The voice was even louder now. She could make out the clucking of chickens and a sheep bleating. Had those sounds been going all night?
With a sigh, Ember swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood on the cold floor. “There. Happy now?”
“Please confirm acknowledgment. Flicker testing, phase one—”
“Message confirmed!”
A pause. “Understood. Have a good day, gypsy.”
She swore. “It’s Ember.”
“Distinction noted.” The room went silent, including the sheep and cow noises.
Ember had never understood the desire to replace a human being with artificial intelligence. Didn’t that make a person irrelevant? Some looked down upon Ember and her profession, but it made her who she was. It made her valuable in some small way. She couldn’t imagine designing a machine trying to do readings on customers. Even if the robot somehow succeeded, what would she do in the meantime?
She turned to the window, expecting to see early morning sunlight. Instead she saw a solid wall of black with a few bright stars sprinkled in. On Earth, the sun had greeted her with its warmth in the morning. She’d basked in its comforting heat as the day went on. Even during summer months, it was the sun that kept their crop buildings running and their tourists coming. Waking to darkness left a pang of loneliness in her soul. Yet another thing her robot alarm clock couldn’t understand.
“Time?” she asked the computer.
“0751, Gypsy Ember.”
“Don’t call me—” she began, then stopped. Nine minutes until phase-one flicker testing. The other flickers would be on their way there now, frantically trying to be on time. But that wasn’t Ember. She was Roma, and she didn’t belong here. Maybe it was time to drive that point home.
It was time for a little test of her own.
She slid her jacket on, wishing she had another outfit—anything besides this awful pair of trousers—and ran a hand through her hair. No time for brushing. Her stomach grumbled. Last night’s dinner hadn’t lasted her long. She’d have to figure out what some of these foods were. It wasn’t like she could survive on vegetable mush forever.
She stepped out of her room to chaos. They’d put all the flickers together, it seemed, and she wasn’t the only one running late. Several others in black jackets sprinted past her to the right, muttering curses under their breath. A bleary-eyed girl stumbled down the corridor, holding tightly to the rail along the wall. Eris. The girl threw her a pain-filled glance, then winced at the light and squeezed her eyes shut with a groan.
Late night at the rec deck, princess? Ember smirked, then remembered Eris had probably been with Stefan. Was Stefan this out of it too? No, he was too smart for that. He was probably there already, prepared to represent his family like a good son.
Ember took her time following them. The last one disappeared behind a corner, but still Ember took slow, lingering steps. She couldn’t wait to see Commander Kane’s face when she failed the program before it had even begun.
She looked around but didn’t see another escape pod anywhere. It seemed she’d have to find the one near the break room from Stefan’s tour yesterday.
Two wrong turns and fifteen minutes later she finally found it. The room was empty except for a woman sitting at a table, staring at nothing. Maybe she’d been there all night.
Ember approached the hatch and examined the sign overhead. Emergency Only. The hatch door was made of a strong, thick metal. There was also a yellow line on the floor, a half circle surrounding the hatch’s immediate vicinity. She drew closer and leaned over it.
“STEP AWAY FROM THE POD,” an automated voice said—a man’s voice, sharp and loud. “SECURITY MEASURES ACTIVATED IN THREE, TW
O . . .”
She leaped backward, and the countdown stopped. The woman who had been sitting earlier had leaped to her feet. She wore three pins in her collar and several patches on her uniform. An officer.
“Silly me,” Ember said with a nervous chuckle. “Didn’t mean to trip over that line.”
“Try that again, and you’ll deserve what you get,” the woman snapped. She looked Ember up and down for a moment, then stalked away.
Ember examined the door again, looking for a weakness in its defenses. The sensors lined the entire width and length of the door. Taking out one or two wouldn’t do it. She was considering trying again when the officer returned with two guards. They trotted in and stopped in front of Ember, stunners raised.
Ember stiffened. She should have waited for the woman to leave first. Maybe if she returned later . . .
“Hold out your band,” the officer said. Ember complied and held her arm extended while the soldier scanned it.
“Just as I thought. You’re supposed to be in phase-one testing right now, flicker. Deck 14, B-72.” The officer gestured with her stunner. “We’ll escort you. Someone has to make sure you get there without tripping over any more giant, clearly-marked emergency lines.”
One of the guards snickered at the officer’s joke, but he was tense as he took Ember’s arm. Did touching a flicker make him so nervous?
The officer strode toward the clear lift tube. Ember raised an eyebrow. If they weren’t arresting her, maybe her plan would actually work. Ember checked the time on her wristband. Surely she would have failed by now. She was almost twenty-five minutes late.
“I can’t wait,” she said.
Ember’s escort shoved her forward, making her stumble. “She’s one of yours,” the officer snapped at the guard waiting outside the door. “We caught her testing out the security measures on escape pod 32.”
“I got a little lost,” Ember said.
“Right,” the guard said sarcastically. He swiped his band and the door opened. “Get in there and find a seat.”
Ember grinned. She hadn’t even gotten a lecture. Maybe flickers were more feared than she’d thought. She filed the information away for later.
The meeting room was full of chairs filled mostly with bored-looking flicker recruits. Many of them turned toward the doorway, watching her with disapproval. There was no speaker, and the room was deathly silent.
“Interviews,” the guard said behind her, as if reading her thoughts. “Sit.” He shoved her inside, and the door closed behind her.
She ignored the watching eyes and found an empty seat, then settled in for a what she figured would be a long wait. She caught a glimpse of Eris sitting near the back, scowling at her. She seemed slightly more lucid now.
Six doors lined one side of the room, each with a single guard and a flicker waiting uncomfortably in front of it. Several empty seats were positioned at the front of the room, the first filled by a long-legged Talon. The chair was far too short for her, and her knees were practically folded up to her head, which gave her an eerie spiderlike look. The woman glowered at Ember.
It seemed the only people bothered by Ember’s tardiness didn’t have the power to do much about it. Her rebellion had been pointless.
The six doors began to open, and the next flickers were admitted. As they disappeared into what had to be a small, closet-sized room, Talon called out more names. Various flickers stood as their names were called, some shaky and nervous, others more confident. Ember rubbed the sleep from her eyes, wishing they could have scheduled a bit better. It would take hours for six interviewers to get through all these people. Why did they have to sit there and wait because of the Empire’s poor planning? And what exactly was this supposed to accomplish? Surely the Empire already knew everything about each person. Stefan had said most were raised on stations preparing for this.
Mar crossed the room and sat next to her. “I can’t believe you did that,” she whispered. “Do you realize how dangerous that was?”
“What?”
“Getting here so late. I know you did it on purpose because I saw you standing in the corridor. I was almost late too.” Her cheeks were still flushed, probably from her dash across the station.
Ember shrugged. “Nobody seems to care.”
“Oh, the interviewers will care. They look for every opportunity to trim the numbers. There are only so many slots, and they give them to the higher families first.” She sighed. “I can’t decide which I fear more, failing or passing.”
Six more names were called out. People stood and walked through the doors.
“Neither one sounds all that appealing,” Ember admitted. She looked around the room at the nervous smiles and stiff postures of the other recruits. Stefan had called this a competition. Was Mar right about what failing meant? “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah, well, the Empire obviously thinks otherwise.” She sat back and sighed. “Let’s talk about something else. My stomach is doing flips here. So what’s it like to be a gypsy?”
“Roma,” Ember corrected.
“You descendants of the Romans? I watched a special on the Roman Empire of Earth once. It was so interesting.”
She paused. “Not exactly.” That was a common mistake. Her people were travelers with blood from a dozen ancient countries. Ironically, they had very little Roman ancestry. She opened her mouth to explain it to Mar, but the girl had already moved on.
“I noticed Stefan has taken a liking to you.” There was a question in her words.
Ember glanced across the room. Stefan was talking to one of his friends. He looked calm and unruffled.
“I never welcomed his attention,” Ember muttered.
“Maybe that’s why he likes you, then. Galaxy knows he’s had enough women throwing themselves at him. Maybe you were a refreshing challenge.”
I didn’t mean to get you in trouble, Stefan had said. It was touching that he’d felt responsible, but irritating that he’d taken her under his wing like a lost baby chick—and then tried to distance himself from her.
I don’t care, she reminded herself. I don’t need him, and I never will.
Five more names were called, then a pause. “Gypsy.”
“Sorry,” Mar whispered as Ember stood. She wasn’t sure whether the girl was apologizing for the lack of tact in the word gypsy or the fact Ember had been called up so early.
The guard practically shoved her inside the tiny room. Ember let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting. A table sat in the middle, with a chair on either side. Her interviewer had his hands folded on his lap.
Commander Kane.
12
This is the one who was thirty-four minutes late, sir,” the guard said from behind her. “Would you like me to send her with the failed group?”
“Not yet. Dismissed.”
The guard complied, and the door slid shut, leaving Ember alone with the man who had stripped her of everything she loved. All the loneliness and worry she’d experienced over the past few days hardened, pooling into a single emotion. Anger.
“Sit.”
She folded her arms and remained standing.
His mouth twisted, but he didn’t pursue it. “You will answer my questions immediately and efficiently. Tell me your nationality, parents’ names, their siblings, and any relatives, including cousins. Then we’ll move on to your medical history.”
The Empire already knew all that. This had to be a formality. “I’m not cooperating until you send me home.”
He looked up from the tablet in his hands, his face darkening. This man wasn’t used to being opposed. Something fluttered in Ember’s stomach, but she forced herself to maintain eye contact. However powerful Kane was, he couldn’t force her to do anything.
“Home.” He smirked. “Your chief gave you to me. I own you. I donated you to the Empire for testing. If you fail, you fall back into my hands.”
The words stabbed her in the gut, but she stood her ground. “The first emperor ou
tlawed slavery eighty years ago. You can’t own a person.”
The high commander gave her a long look, and for a moment Ember wondered if he would stand and strike her down. Surely he had the authority to do whatever he wanted. But he just leaned forward, his voice low and deep. “You can own a planet, gypsy girl. And those who own it, rule it. I have thirty thousand loyal citizens now, and they’d be happy to train you in my service. You’re closer to failing than you know.”
“I’m not what the Empire wants. I think we both agree on that. And I’m a free citizen of the Empire just like anyone else, so I’ll be traveling to Earth with or without your permission.”
Now his mouth tugged upward. “You really think failed flickers get sent home?”
She went stiff, struggling to keep her face impassive. “Why wouldn’t they?”
The moment the words escaped her lips, she knew how naïve her question sounded. It was clear from the high commander’s bemused expression that he was thinking the same thing. “Security issues,” he said simply. “Not to mention the cost involved.”
“So it’s true. You kill flickers who fail.”
He chuckled. “Of course not. They’re useful in other ways, but we keep them under very tight security. We can’t have failed flickers running around breeding and being snatched up by the enemy to use against us. It’s hardly a secret that the emperor monitors your population very carefully for the safety of the realm.”
“What other ways?” she demanded. “What do you do with—”
“Enough,” he spat. “Your little stunt with the escape pod this morning is unforgiveable. You’re fortunate you didn’t try to open the door. You would have been killed on the spot. Now that you know what’s at stake, you will answer my questions. Are there other flickers in your family?”
She fingered the container of medicine in her jacket pocket. Kane knew her father. She’d have to choose her words carefully. “I’m not a flicker. I just read the cards for tourists, that’s all.”