After withdrawing the needle she literally slaps a bandage on the weeping hole. “Open your mouth.”
I’d like to refuse, just to make it difficult for her, but I decide it might be better to co-operate when she tips her head toward the nearest enforcer with a smirk. When I open my mouth for the cotton swab she scrapes it across the inside of each cheek. The woman drops it into an empty vial, pops a green cork on the end, and presses the sample of blood and the DNA tube into my hand. “Take it to the desk.” None too gently, I’m shoved from the chair and in the direction of a row of desks set up across the hall.
When it’s my turn, another woman in a more sedate blonde wig holds out her gloved hand for the samples. I hand her the tubes. The woman stamps each tube with a number and then holds out her hand again. “Give me your wrist.”
The thought of refusing does enter my mind, but just as quick the sight of the enforcer by the door quells it and I do as I’m told. The woman stamps the corresponding number onto the red tag attached to my metal bracelet. She points to the two numbers like I’m simple minded. “This one is your identification number, 223. The second is your room assignment number, 101. Follow the red line down the corridor and find your dorm. No diddling.”
I’m left with little choice but to follow the red line leading down a narrow brightly lit corridor. Halfway down I find Room 101. After double checking it against the number my wrist tag I peek in the little rectangular window on the door. The blonde from the subway sits on one of the cots. Well, at least I have a friend here... kind of. When I enter the room she looks up and there is evidence of tears on her cheeks. I should say something, but I’m not sure what, so I perch on the second white cot across from hers.
“Hi.”
I try to smile, but fear all I’ve managed is a grimace by the look she gives me. “Hi...” My gaze travels the length of the room. “So ... what do we do now?”
The blonde shrugs and stares down at her chewed fingernails. “We wait, I guess.”
“For what?”
“To know if we passed the blood and DNA tests.”
Wait, one of my least favorite words. For lack of anything better to do, I scan the room. At the head of each bed is a white cabinet with three drawers, between them a small, plain door. Leaning over I open the top drawer out of curiosity. Yes I know, curiosity killed the cat, or so my pa likes to say. It’s too bad I don’t remember what a cat is... Inside are a couple of white robes trimmed in gold ribbon, similar to the one I’m wearing. The middle drawer contains white under garments and the last a stack of plain white night gowns. On the floor by the bed is a pair of white soft soled slip on shoes. To kill some time I open the door between the beds. A plain white washroom greets me with a glassed in shower and toilet. A tidy open supply shelf displays toilet paper, towels, wash clothes and other various feminine products.
“White.” I close the door harder than need be. “Why is everything always white?”
Ashley meets my gaze. “It’s supposed to represent purity and cleanliness.” Two bright spots of colour flush her cheeks.
A loud click makes us both turn to the door. When I cross to it and try the knob it refuses to budge. “We’re locked in.”
“Every night.”
“What?” I look over my shoulder. Ashley lifts a thin finger and points to a spot on the wall beside my head. Puzzled I follow the direction and my gaze settles on a metal plaque with a list of rules on it.
1. Dorms will be locked from 8pm to 8am each day. All trainees are to be in their rooms between these times. NO EXCEPTIONS.
2. All trainees are to scan their bracelets at all check points and upon entering their rooms.
3. Only provided clothing is to be worn. All clothing is to be changed daily and left in the hallway upon exiting rooms.
4. No personal items are allowed and must be surrendered to an enforcer.
I finger the necklace beneath my robe. I won’t give it up. It’s all I have left. I’ll keep it hidden if I can. Pressing my face to the glass in the door I scan the corridor beyond. An enforcer strolls down the hall, his face a stiff mask of boredom. “Why are we being guarded if we are locked in?”
Ashley shrugs and tucks her feet under her. “I am going to die of boredom locked in this dull room for hours.”
“Me too.” With a sigh I return to my perch on the uncomfortable bed. It’s a standard issue cot. The one at home is softer though, because ma collected scraps of material from outgrown clothing we are supposed to turn in to be recycled, to make an extra matt. “What part of the city are you from?”
“The thirteenth hub, you?”
“Hub one.” For lack of anything better to do I lie back and fold my arms behind my head. “What’s it like in the thirteenth?”
Ashley glances at the door and lowers her voice. “There is talk of a revolt. We live in the shadow of the wall and some say the world outside is not as damaged as the Emperor claims.”
I sit up so fast Ashley jumps. “Really? Have you seen it?”
“No, but my neighbour’s son did. He was assigned to patrol and climbed into the off limits area on the wall. He said when day turned to night there was a clear patch on the dome, some kind of glitch in the computer software. He got a brief glimpse of a band of green on the horizon and purple mountain peaks in the distance.”
The very idea makes my heart quicken. “A band of green? Like trees and grass?”
After another nervous glance at the window, Ashley nods.
The idea isn’t new, but it is the first time I’ve heard it actually confirmed by someone who knows someone who claims to have seen it. That’s as good as gossip gets in the hubs. “I too have heard there is vegetation beyond the walls. Just the other day I found a weed growing between the cracks in the concrete.”
Ashley’s eyes grow wide. “Really? What did it look like? Did you tell the enforcers?”
“No. I pried it from the crack and potted it on the roof of our dorm. It was soft, green and so fragile.”
“It is a crime to not report anything growing in the hubs.”
“I know.” I bite my lip. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so free with my confessions. After all, I don’t even know Ashley. What if she tells, or is an informant? Before I can recant my confession she smiles.
“I’m glad you saved it. I would have done the same.” She giggles and I decide she is really quite pretty.
“Sol wasn’t so happy about it.”
“Who’s Sol?”
Heat floods my cheeks. “He’s... my friend.”
“Like a boyfriend?”
Is Sol my boyfriend? I guess... sort of. I’d like him to be... or would have anyway. For some reason I can’t bring myself to acknowledge it. “He’s just a friend.”
A faraway look settles in Ashley’s eyes. “I wish I had a boyfriend. Next month would have been my nineteenth birthday and I would have met my betrothed.”
My snort echoes in the little room. “Do you really want to be forced to marry someone you don’t even know, or love?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. It would be better than this... wouldn’t it?”
Would it? She has a point. All the officials I’ve seen are not much younger than my father and most are his age. If I had to choose between someone my age from the hubs, or an old man I suppose younger would be better.
Without warning the lights go out.
“I guess the enforcers are telling us it’s bed time,” I can’t resist joking as I grope my way to the edge of the cot just as the green emergency light comes on in the bathroom. Using its meagre glow we change into our issued night dresses and climb beneath the covers. My mind is whirling like the top Petie got for his birthday a few years ago. I can’t sleep. With a groan I roll over and peer at Ashley. Her eyes are wide open. “I’m not tired.”
“Me neither.”
After settling against the pillow to stare at the ceiling I giggle, even though I don’t find the situation funny, call it a release of nervous ten
sion. “This is like having a sleep over. My friend Danika’s mother was called to the medical centre when her father was dying and she had to stay all night. My pa applied for a special permit so Danika could stay the night with us. It was so much fun. Ma even scrounged up some hot chocolate, though I have no idea where she had it stashed.”
“Yeah, that would be fun, except we are being held here against our wills.”
“Yeah.” Shifting so I meet Ashley’s eye I whisper, “I hope I don’t pass the evaluation, if they send me underground I’ll find a way to escape.”
Ashley closes her eyes. “Unless they have you exterminated,” she whispers back.
Exterminated. The morbid image of Mathias in the square, driven insane by the pain of the poison injected into his feet, makes me shudder. I don’t want to die.
Chapter Five
My father doesn’t even say goodbye when I return to our dorm to collect my things.
“Sol?”
Turning with my hand on the doorknob to leave I give my mother a grim smile. “Yeah?”
She glances over her shoulder at the loud snores coming from the gathering room. “I’m sorry you got assigned as an enforcer.”
I don’t know what to say so I mumble, “Thanks.”
“You won’t tell… will you?” Her mouth twists into a grimace.
“No.” I don’t need to ask what she means. I won’t be the one to sentence my father to death for being a lousy person. As I walk out the door I know it is forever.
Once you’re an enforcer it’s your duty to report any wrongs. It’s a crime to be a drunkard. It’s a crime to beat your wife and your child. It’s a crime not to care. It’s a crime not to report these things. Can I live with myself for not reporting my father? No. Can I live with myself for not reporting his treatment of my mother? No. Yet I couldn’t live with myself if I did. It’s a horrible situation to be in. The last one I wanted to be in. The last thing I ever wanted to be is an enforcer. My inner being is suffocating under the weight of who I am and who I want to be. And the woman I have just lost.
There has to be a way out of this life. No, not in the suicidal sense of the word, just a halt to the direction my life has been forced into. What happens if I defy the order to be an enforcer? Shaking my head, I turn the corner and head for the subway. Who am I trying to kid? No one denies what they are sentenced, I mean assigned, to do. Even if I try to fail at the task I won’t win. I will simply be exterminated. Like a bug.
Yes, I remember bugs. At leas,t I remember hating them. It’s funny. I remember loving so many things, yet hating only one. Bugs. And now? Now I hate so many things and love only one. Ocean Delany. And she’s being taken away.
I arrive at the subway and lift my bracelet to the scanner just as the doors are starting to close. The temptation to let the train pull away without me is strong. They will just come track me down if I miss it though. And I’ll be in trouble. Then again, what can they do but chastise me for being late?
With a sigh I jump forward and shove my hand in the door gap before it closes. An alarm goes off designed to keep anyone from getting pinned and they snap back open. It’s hard to break the habit of doing what you are told. Then again, breaking that habit is a sure way to end your life in Imram.
Rafel gestures to the empty seat beside him. We know each other from school, not well, but enough to consider each other ‘friends’. It’s not safe to be real friends with many in Imram. You never know who is going to squeal on you for saying something anti-patriotic. Sinking into the seat I nod and glance at his bracelet tags. “Enforcer?”
“Yeah.” His grimace is reminiscent of my own earlier one. “You too?”
Nodding, I scan the rest of the subway car occupants. Only a few of the young men look pleased to be there.
The rest of the short trip is made in eerie silence. When the subway car comes to a shushing halt we all stand as one and file off. One by one, like an army of mutes, we pass through the scanner, bracelets held high. Beep, beep, beep… The long tunnel echoes with our in time steps, like soldiers marching into war. At the end of the tunnel an enforcer separates those with an enforcer tag and leads us to a large gymnasium.
An enforcer with a gold emblem on his shirt holds his hand high. “I am Rikker. I am the enforcer commander. You will start your training as of now. Pair up for hand to hand combat lessons.”
“I’m sticking with you, Sol.” Rafel glances at an overly muscled guy beside him. “At least you won’t beat me to a pulp.”
Though a chuckle is not really appropriate that this moment in time, one slips from my lips anyway. Rafel is a scrappy little guy and I wouldn’t bet on him not giving the giant beside him a real run for his money; still he’s smart to decline taking the behemoth on.
Rafel and I face each other and the instructor yells. “Thrust, counter, thrust!”
Though we throw punches we make them light to keep from hurting each other.
The instructor pauses beside us. “What is this?”
“Sparing, I thought.” I lower my hands.
He snorts. “Quit kissing and hit him.”
I swallow and then throw a harder punch.
“Ow!” Rafel rubs his shoulder where my punch landed.
The enforcer pushes him back and takes his place. “Quit hitting like a girl, Number Three-eighty-two.”
Without warning his fist shoots out, catches me in the chest and I tumble to the ground.
“Get up!”
The breath catches in my chest as I scramble to my feet. He wants to play rough, eh? I’ll show him rough. No one punches me, not anymore. My father’s face flashes before my eyes. Drunken lout. I hate him. Before I realize it I’m punching like a mad man, gasping for breath, fists burning and sweat pouring down my face. Right, left, right…
The enforcer falls back and then drops. Standing over him, I am a shaking ball of rage I didn’t know I could be capable of. It takes a moment before I realize my fellow enforcers are cheering.
The instructor gets to his feet with a sour look. “That’s enough for today. Go to your dorms.”
When I drop my hands to walk away he snarls. “Better watch your back.”
Without meaning to, I’ve made an enemy. The claps on my back and cheers however, show I have made far more friends. Maybe friends aren’t so bad to have.
Chapter Six
A siren screeches through my dream. The herd of coloured horses galloping free in a field of green grass and yellow flowers vanishes leaving me disorientated and disappointed. Rolling over in bed with a groan, I spy Ashley already awake.
The blonde raises an eyebrow. “Looks like it’s time to get up.”
“Nice alarm,” I grouse, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
We get dressed in silence and by the time we are attired in clean robes the lock on the door clicks. Together we exit the room and place our laundry in one of the many chutes lining the corridor as it fills with other girls.
There’s no sign of Danika, not one coloured girl in sight. What’s happened to her? Is she too being prepared to be a concubine somewhere, or has she been sent to the sewers? Down the hall we trudge under the flickering greenish lights. It makes us look like a bunch of zombies, at least what I imagine zombies to look like. Do zombies exist? According to some, any who might have survived the black sickness are surely drooling, pale, flesh eating corpses.
When we get to the end of the passageway an enforcer directs us down another hall to our left. I can’t resist looking beyond his form down the corridor behind. What’s down there? A way to escape? Before I can wonder any further, we file into a massive dining room. Long white tables are flanked on two sides by narrow matching benches. Numbers are painted on the benches every three feet. We find the one corresponding with our tag numbers and sit. A brunette to my right stares at nothing, her eyes unfocused and red.
“Hi.”
She blinks and then fixes on me for a moment before she gives a stiff nod and looks away
. The girl on my left doesn’t say a word. It’s like being in a room full of shell shocked veterans, or so I’d imagine by the accounts I’ve read in our history books. It seems past wars, pain, death and humanities failures are a favorite subject of the Emperor’s, so much so it is considered the core in our schooling. I could do without those kinds of history lessons.
Once everyone is seated a buzzer goes off and the double doors at the far end of the room open. Girls of mixed race enter dressed in black robes, each carrying a large silver tray. One by one the trays are set before each diner.
My relief and joy when I spot Danika among them is tenfold. Like an excited kid I wave, grinning from ear to ear. “Danika, over here!”
One by one heads turn and eyes stare at me as a hush falls over the room. What? What have I done? Did I say something wrong? Danika looks away and hurries back out the double doors without acknowledging me. Is she mad at me?
An enforcer marches down the aisle. He comes to a smart halt before me and snatches my arm. After scanning my bracelet with his hand held device, he scowls. “Concubine Two-twenty-three, it is not permissible to address a slave. Consider yourself warned.”
Swallowing, I glance around the silent room. No one meets my gaze. Confused, I stare at my covered tray as the enforcer moves away. It seems I’ve made a terrible blunder. Why can’t I talk to Danika? Why is my best friend a slave? Am I to assume it is because of the colour of her skin? How unfair is that?
A large screen flickers to life at the front of the room. The Emperor steps into the shot and smiles down on us. “Welcome, concubines, to one of the screening processes and the beginning of your training. Please stand.”
One by one, everyone stands.
“Good. Now, I will address you all each morning and I expect you to stand to show your respect. I hear there has already been some disobedience in the ranks.”
The Emperor's Concubine Page 4