by Greg Dragon
I gave a little gasp, which resulted in a painful jolt from my bonds.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the tribune replied sharply, his voice tight. She climbed in with a sweet smile and watched the two armed soldiers sit on either side of her. The guard who’d chased me stood stiffly as the transport eased away, but his face had turned yet another shade of pale. Maybe he’d heard their conversation as well. He knew what was about to happen. And it was all because of me and my stupid, selfish stubbornness.
“Please—” I began, about to plead for his life, but she cut me off immediately.
“So, Ametrine,” she said in a bored tone. “Let’s have a little chat.”
><><><><><
It was my first ride in a transport. Most citizens rode their bikes to their assignments, but the privileged few got driven around. My stepfather was one of those. I’d asked him once to take me for a ride, but the request had only made him angry. “Work hard and get your own someday,” he’d said. Somehow I’d never imagined my first ride would go quite like this. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore my racing heart.
The interior was of soft leather, white and almost silky to the touch. It smelled of disinfectant and lipstick. There were only two small windows on either side made of reinforced, double-paned glass. The realization gave me little comfort.
The city sped past quickly. We were headed west, toward Brighton, surrounded by several armored transports on either side, in front, and behind. I was still confused as to why she’d insisted on my presence here. I could tell that the guards on either side of her didn’t understand it either. I was the one who deserved to be executed. And yet, I was sitting here, relaxing in the empress’s transport. Not in comfort, exactly—but still alive, at least.
Why had I sneaked into that meeting?
“You want a higher Rating,” the empress said. “Why do you think you deserve it?”
My mouth was dry, but I couldn’t help but blurt out, “Please, Your Majesty—the guard tried to do his job. He nearly caught me before—”
“Nearly doesn’t cut it here,” she snapped. “And neither does try. He had his chance. If I can’t count on my personal guard to protect me, who can I count on?”
The guards stiffened, but they continued to look ahead. Their faces were chiseled and tanned like models. It seemed the empress liked to surround herself with visual perfection, even when it came to her guards.
“Well?” she asked. “Answer me or you’ll share his fate. Why do you want a higher Rating?”
Could she really do that? Execute an innocent citizen just because they failed at something? I nearly snapped at her again, but I knew it wouldn’t help. Why did I deserve a higher Rating? I thought about my accomplishments. Something told me she didn’t care about all that. “So I can be with someone.”
“Ah. A boy worth risking everything for, right?”
I blinked, wondering if her words were an act, a ploy to get me on her side. But it was true. Dresden was worth it. “Yes.”
“What is his Rating score?”
I paused. “942.”
She whistled. “That is a problem, isn’t it?”
She’s toying with me. I kept my mouth shut.
“The way I see it, you only have two choices.” She turned to look absently out the window. “You fulfill your assignment well and work your way back up.” There was a hint of a smile on her pouty red lips. “Or you can accept a special assignment—one that will be very worth your while. If you fulfill it, of course.”
Trying to hide my sudden interest, I slouched against the seat. The movement, slight as it was, sent an electric jolt up my arm. I swallowed. “What assignment?”
“It’s dangerous,” she cooed. “Risky, foolhardy, and downright painful. But I have a feeling you’re up to the challenge. And,” she leaned forward to whisper, “if you can manage it, I’ll personally order a Rating reconsideration for you.”
I took a deep breath, taking a moment to consider her words, my mind whirling. A second chance, from the empress herself. Was this really happening?
She sat back, watching my face. “I have a personal law-enforcement team stationed in the capital city, Aiguille. They take care of things for me, things the monitor force doesn’t have the competence for.” One of her guards swallowed hard, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, but she went on. “We’ve recently discovered that a member of the team has been leaking information to the Integrants. Unfortunately, I don’t know who it is. The team is far too well-trained and valuable a resource to disband.” She gave a wry smile. “They call themselves EPIC—Empress’s Personal Intelligence Contingent.”
“You want me to join them? To catch a spy?”
“Exactly.”
I thought back to the Rating Ceremony. “Are they the ones in black?”
“Yes. You’ve seen them, I assume?”
“Just one.” I hadn’t understood how a red could serve in the military. Now I understood. Had the guy from the ceremony been handpicked by the empress too? “So I travel around like they do and catch criminals.”
The empress looked bored. “Smugglers, mostly.”
“How much time do I have?” I asked.
“Two weeks.”
“That’s not very long.”
She sat back, crossing one leg over the other. “My dear, I could stop this transport and have you dumped out the window right now. Or, if I were in a bad mood, I’d simply order you to fulfill this assignment. But being the benevolent creature that I am, I’ve given you a choice. And, to be honest”—she examined her manicured fingernails—“it doesn’t seem like the choice should be all that difficult.”
My mind spun, trying to take it all in. A dangerous assignment, a secret ploy to uncover a government spy. I’d barely had the guts to visit my Rater this morning. Not only was the empress’s offer the quickest option, but it was the only real option. Whatever assignment came my way would be in the dregs of society, probably working in manufacturing or refuse. It was extremely hard to work your way out of that. It would be years—a decade, perhaps—before I became a yellow.
And then there was Dresden. His face flashed into my mind—his laughing blue eyes, the hint of curl in the light hair above his collar, his strong cheekbones. The feel of his arms around me. I couldn’t imagine a life without Dresden.
The empress’s painted lips curved into a smile as she watched my face, as if knowing she had convinced me. And as much as I hated to admit it, I knew it too. I felt a little dizzy. Dresden and Tali would be getting their assignments today, which meant they’d probably be gone within days.
“Can I tell my family good-bye?”
Her hands clasped into fists, but her voice was controlled. “Of course not. Your family will be notified. You’ll only be gone two weeks, after all. Assuming you survive.”
I gripped the seat with my thighs to steady myself. “Survive?”
“Of course. I told you it was dangerous. We’ve lost several soldiers in the last couple of years. Smugglers can hide weapons as well as food, you know. And then there’s the danger of the traitor discovering your mission and taking you out. So, yes, if you survive.”
My stomach twisted. All I’d wanted this morning was a second chance. Well, this was it. This was my assignment, my one and only opportunity to change the future. I’d worked too hard to have it all taken away from me. A surge of determination grew inside me, and I lifted my chin. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.” She flipped open her techband. “Ruben, take us to the train station.”
PART TWO
9
My legs moved to a rhythm, predictable and steady, and I barely noticed the citizens and vehicles around me. Running was a huge relief after a difficult mission and cramped transport ride. I required my team to run with me every week for conditioning, but that was only a small part of it. For one precious hour, I could leave the past behind.
Someone behind me sucked in a ragged breath and then coughed. I smiled. Tormenting
Semias, who had to stop every few minutes to catch his wind, was yet another perk.
We were three miles from the bunker—I refused to think in kilometers—when my techband suddenly vibrated. Murphy was back with the newest recruit, no doubt.
I slowed to a walk and accepted the call, wondering what the latest unskilled and sorry trainee would be like. “Vance here.”
“I thought we talked about the running thing,” Murphy said, using his most authoritative voice. “You scare the citizens. I probably have a dozen formal complaints on my desk already. “
“What’s wrong with scattering the stuffy businessmen on their way home? They could use a little more exercise anyway.”
He muttered something under his breath. “Get out of the bike lanes and onto the sidewalk. Meet me at the furniture store in five minutes.” The screen went blank.
I forced back the irritation. We’d passed that a mile back, and since he could track us, he probably knew it.
“Time to sprint, boys,” I shouted, smiling at the groans that followed.
When we got there, Murphy leaned casually against his transport. Casual for him, anyway. He probably stood at attention in his sleep. The guys, still heaving from their run, crowded the transport for a look at our newest recruit. I pushed my way through and froze as Murphy opened the car door. The passenger stepped out and stood, blinking in the bright sunlight.
A girl.
The other guys quieted, and someone cleared his throat. The girl was of a slight build, with searching dark brown eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, although the front part was swept over her forehead and pinned into place. I saw the soft red glow of the numbers underneath. She shifted her weight from side to side as if wishing she could run away or climb back into the vehicle. She looked at me, and I stiffened. The girl from the Rating Ceremony.
Daymond cleared his throat. “You’re the new recruit, then?”
The girl nodded, her eyes still glued on me. It was hard to tell she was the same person I’d seen in Olympus. Her shoulders slumped a little, and her haunted eyes darted around like a cornered raccoon; her new purple uniform hung poorly on her petite frame.
The Demander had gone too far this time. If he thought sending a girl would hold us back, he was dead wrong.
“This is Ametrine Dowell,” Murphy announced. His voice held a hint of amusement at our reaction. “Treat her well, boys. And good luck to you, Ametrine.” He strode around to the driver’s side and climbed in. The transport pulled away and disappeared into traffic. She stared after it, looking a little lost.
“A girl,” Daymond said. “What the fates were they thinking?”
“She’s pregnant,” Semias said, staring at her. “That’s the only explanation.”
Ametrine gasped and whirled to face him.
“Don’t be stupid, Semias,” Ross said with his I-know-everything air. “They send pregnant girls straight to the medics, then to the work camps.”
“How do you know? Experience?” Daymond asked. Ross opened his mouth, but Daymond talked over him. “Well, what are we supposed to do with a girl?”
“I get her first,” Semias said. His eyes slid slowly down her body.
The guys instantly went still. The girl froze. Before I even realized what I was doing, I had slammed Semias against the store wall. His expression was stunned, then turned murderous. He was several inches taller and thicker through the shoulders, but my hand tightening on his esophagus effectively encouraged him to be still. “One more comment like that,” I spat, “and it’ll be your last.”
He swatted at my hand and gave me a death glare.
Daymond jumped forward and extended his hand to Ametrine. “I’m Daymond. You’ve already met Vance, leader of Team Two. I guess you’re one of us now. You’ll meet Team One back at the bunker.”
I pulled away from Semias, who was peeling himself off the wall, and nodded. Handshakes were a NORA thing. “Don’t mind Semias. He’s all mouth, especially when it comes to stuffing himself.”
Semias swore under his breath.
“You’ll be with me until you’re trained, Ametrine,” I told her.
“Call me Treena.”
Neb pulled on my sleeve like an eager toddler. I tried to ignore him, but the tugging became more insistent. I shot him a glare.
There was an unnatural hint of color in his cheeks. “I just thought of something.”
“What?”
“Um, where’s she gonna sleep?”
Someone coughed, and I felt anger rise up inside me again. What was the commander thinking, sending a girl? This really complicated things. “We’ll put her in the bathroom—I mean, washroom.”
“Excuse me?” Treena said.
It was suddenly very quiet. “But,” Neb continued, “what if we have to—you know—”
“I’m sure she’ll share.”
“Hold on,” Treena said. “There’s no way I’m sleeping in a washroom.”
“Three-quarters pace, men,” I ordered. “See you at the bunker.”
The guys looked grumpy, but they got the hint and took off at a jog. Semias lumbered along after them at a walk. If only I could get Poly to take Semias. He wasn’t ready to advance yet, but . . . a girl? This was going to be tough.
I motioned for her to walk with me, but she shook her head. “No. Let’s run. Why are you treating me like a porcelain doll?”
With a shrug, I started to jog. Her legs were shorter, but she kept pace pretty well. “The bathroom offers a lock and privacy. I don’t trust these guys, and neither should you.”
She looked at me out of the corner of her eye, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. If she couldn’t trust yellows, could she really trust a red? For a while there was only the sound of traffic and the steady rhythm of our breathing. After about a mile, she was still keeping up. At least they’d sent me a girl who could run.
“Fine,” she said after several minutes. “I’ll sleep in the washroom until they’re used to me. But only if it’s clean.”
I gave her a sideways look. She’d just joined the most dangerous military unit in the nation, and she was worried about sanitation. “We do our own cleaning, so I can’t promise anything. But it could be worse. You could be sleeping in the stairwell.”
She shot me a glare. Treena looked like any other NORA girl, but I sensed an intense anger under the surface. She was obviously not happy to be here. What could she possibly have done to warrant 440? And why had they sent her here, of all places?
There was only one way to find out.
I clicked my techband screen up and called Daymond. His face came into view, bouncing with his strides. “Yep.”
“Change of plans,” I said. “Let’s stop at the Red District. I think it’s a good time to get Treena’s initiation out of the way.”
“Yes, sir,” Daymond said with a grin.
It gave me great satisfaction to see Treena swallow hard.
10
I’d been here before.
At least that’s what it felt like. The Red District in Aiguille was similar to the one in Olympus: very few bikes and hordes of people shuffling around, their eyes darting sharply, missing nothing. Dozens of children dodged through the crowds, laughing and playing, their uniforms dirty and unfitted. I wrinkled my nose. The roads were black with filth, the buildings shorter and dusted with various shades of grime. The street cleaners obviously didn’t come here either.
The citizens’ faces showed a practiced boredom, but they clung to their kids with the ferocity of a mother bear. The EPIC team lined up on the curb, still sweaty and panting from their run, and suddenly there was a stillness to the crowded square, as if we’d dampened the sound. Nearly all motion stopped. A few people actually turned around and headed quickly in the opposite direction.
“If you were trying to sneak in,” I said, “you failed miserably.”
Vance glanced meaningfully at his guys. Two of them broke off and trotted after the people who had left.
Then he turned to me. “You ready, Treena?”
I nodded, even though I wasn’t. Without a thought, I patted the hair covering my Rating.
“Today you’re a beggar,” Vance said with a chuckle, and he smoothed my hair out of my face. His fingers were calloused but gentle, and it sent a tingle down my spine. “If there was ever a time to show your Rating off, it’s now.”
“No one will believe she’s a beggar,” Semias said with a frown. “She looks too clean. Her uniform looks fresh out of the package.”
Vance opened his mouth to argue, but Daymond—the one with the scar—spoke up. “I actually agree with Semias this time. She doesn’t look desperate enough.”
“I’m happy to dirty her up a little,” Semias said, still staring at me. “We want her to look authentic, after all.”
I glared back. “Do. Not. Touch me.”
“Semias,” Vance said quietly. “You and Day sweep the north alley. I’ll contact you when you’re needed.”
“Yes, sir.” Daymond shot me an apologetic look before striding away. Semias just smirked and shuffled after him.
I let out an exasperated breath. “You don’t need to protect me.”
Vance ignored my comment and reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of tiny black devices, then fastened one to his ear. It looked like an earring. “Put this on so we can communicate. I’m staying out of the way, but I’ll be there in seconds if it sounds like you need help. Any questions?”
A million, actually, but few he could answer. I knelt and rubbed my hand in the dirt, then brushed it onto my uniform. “So, I’m supposed to catch a smuggler? Is that all?”
“You can catch more than one,” he said with a slight smile, “if you’d like. Semias arrested three at his orientation.”
That wasn’t exactly what I’d meant, but it seemed simple enough. “Do I get a weapon or anything?”
“No. You haven’t been trained to use one, and it would be too conspicuous. That’s why I’m listening in. You’ll be fine, though. They won’t hurt you.”