He breathed with me for a long time, and when we finally finished, the lady and taxi—as well as any other sign an accident had even happened—were gone, taken care of by drones and security vehicles. I still don't know whether she lived or died.
I curl my fingers together and squeeze until I gain control.
Just breathe.
"No." I clear my throat. "But I'm looking forward to beginning tomorrow." I wrack my brain, trying to remember the meeting, but nothing other than the vision of Ben comes.
"Well," Ms. Alder states and rises, "if you do have questions, today's meeting is recorded in your citizen's account for review."
My parents stand and nod to Ms. Alder. I follow their lead, afraid the dizziness will return, but it doesn't.
Father goes to the door and gestures for Mother and me to walk through.
I tail them but turn to check for Ben again. He's gone. The top of the wooden desk displays a viewing screen. I spot my name, and beside are two words: Genesis Technologies. The top company you can be placed at as a Level Two, and the place I fear the most.
I pull my bag against my body and force myself around and out the door.
3
Out the main doors of the university, clouds have blanketed the sky, and the cold breeze bites through my long sleeves. The desperate need for air rattles my whole body, but I can manage only short gasps. My parents walk in front, and I trail behind.
How can this be true? I did everything right, blended in, acted ordinary.
"That was unforeseen." Mother's eyes gleam with uncharacteristic pleasure as she glances back at me. "Genesis Technologies was not an option we expected."
It shouldn't have been an option at all. I wanted an average job where I could blend in. GenTech is not for people seeing things, losing time... having a mental breakdown.
"Avlyn, go to the apartment to review the meeting," Father says. "Since your position begins tomorrow, you'll need time to prepare."
He stops to order an auto taxi with his handheld. Within seconds, a tiny white vehicle with barely enough room for three passengers arrives.
"Father, something's wrong…" I say.
"We'd take you home, but Mother and I are due at our assignments. This conversation will continue tonight."
I nod in agreement. I shouldn't have tried to tell him anyway. Father wouldn't understand.
After a few minutes, which drag by like an hour, the taxi pulls up to the front of our building. I get out, my bag still over my shoulder. Mother nods a good-bye, and the vehicle pulls away swiftly.
Whatever energy is allowing me to stand drains away in an instant. I become heavy, standing alone on the sidewalk, the only person without somewhere to be. Inexcusably, hot tears attempt to form, but I will them away, burning the back of my sinuses. Around me, the world seems to spiral. What's going on with me? I'm usually so good at keeping everything in. The burning in my hand returns, reminding me of my need to get to the security of the apartment.
Safe inside the elevator, I thrust my hand against the cold identification pad, and my hand stops tingling. As always, it knows where to take me. The door slides shut, and I turn to rest against the rear of the cab.
The time between the open elevator door and the security of my bed blurs together. I wish Ben were really here, and assigned Level Two instead of staying with Bess and Devan. Of course, Direction would never allow us be reassigned together, since twins are often too emotionally connected, but maybe he wouldn't have died. I've seen the report at least a hundred times. Death due to Virus 3005B. Level Ones are the last to receive VacTech updates, and several hundred Level Ones had died over the course of twenty-four hours before they finally received the update that would have saved them.
"Why'd you have to die?"
I wait for the vision of him to return. It doesn't.
As I stare at the smooth texture of the ceiling of my room, my tears dry. This is ridiculous. How am I ever going to work for GenTech if I can't control myself? It's a waste of time to mourn for someone thirteen years later anyway. Ben is gone.
Keep your focus forward.
Move on.
Slowly, I inhale and search for my bag. The spouse pairing message alert still blinks on the media viewer. I ignore it and find the bag on the couch, plopping down next to it. Inside, I dig for my Flexx, resting beside the uneaten lunch, and launch my citizen account. My heart thumps as the emblem emerges and spins slowly on the screen. I press a thumb against the pad to open my account.
CREDITS: 10,100
My heart skips. Two times greater than expected, and I'll receive that monthly. It's more than I'll need even after moving. Maybe GenTech isn't that bad after all.
Among the messages is the vid of the meeting which includes the greeting I remember and plays through everything I missed when the vision began. I scan the recording for any sign that what I saw was real, but Ben never appears. It was only a meeting, like any other. The whole thing was in my head.
Instead, the counselor informs us of a new Direction advance, which pinpoints desirable characteristics for career configuration beyond training scores. She doesn't delve into the science, but it makes me curious. This information, coupled with my scores, decided my future at Genesis Tech. The actual position doesn't shock me—Information Security. At birth, my anticipated strength was for network systems. At age five, a confirmation test sealed my general career path.
Always wanting to keep attention off myself in training, I've hidden my ability to find security vulnerabilities in the system coding. To me, they stand out like a light, just like that girl in red stood out among the citizens in gray, black, and khaki. I guess it wasn't enough though. The testing software saw through the ruse anyway.
Why GenTech though? I wanted a position at a mid-grade company, one that was essential, but not elite. Direction will be watching me too closely there.
I shake my head and grab my lunch from my bag. The usual—a sandwich, apple slices, and peanuts. I pop a peanut into my mouth and finally check the spouse pairing message. It's merely a distraction. If nothing else, it will stop the incessant flashing of the message alert.
Miss Lark,
Congratulations on Direction Citizenship. One privilege is access to spouse pairings. Four top choices are listed in your account, and as more become available, they will be added.
As a benefit, you have two complimentary trips to any Direction-sanctioned Level Two café for a potential spouse pairing meeting.
A spouse pairing contract must be agreed upon and officially registered within one year of turning seventeen. Otherwise, you will not be paired.
If you have any additional queries, use the search feature on any page in your account, or review the Direction FAQ. If questions cannot be answered through the FAQ or search function, connect with a Direction representative at any time.
Compatibility Perfects Us
I grit my teeth and select the link.
Here goes.
The display lists names with their matching photos. A partial description of why each is an acceptable pairing flanks each image, but I will need to individually select them to view all of the information. A quick scan of the images reveals them to all be complete strangers. Seven other universities run in Level Two, one in each Sector, and these potentials did not attend my school.
The only one who looks vaguely interesting is someone named Aron Barton. There's something kind about the expression on his face, where the others are all far too serious. Plus, his blue eyes and blond hair remind me of Kyra.
I log out. Maybe I'll look at him more later, and at least I can tell Kyra I checked if she messages later.
The sandwich sits by me, uneaten. I gaze at the perfect, frilly lettuce hanging over the sides of the soft white bread, no browning or bruises on the vegetable's surface. Food from the printer is impeccable. Optimal nutrition, yet it's not real.
None of this is real. Not me, not the spouse pairings, nor the career placement.
/> My stomach turns at the thought, but I lift the sandwich and take a bite. It's what I'm supposed to do.
* * *
I startle awake. The half-eaten sandwich skates from my lap, and I snatch it before it hits the floor.
Father's at the door. He places his bag on a hook and walks toward the couch.
"Napping?" he asks, a touch of disgust in his voice.
"Yeah, I guess I was." I sit up and smooth my hair.
He just stands there. "Your mother and I were shocked by the assignment. Pleased, but shocked."
"Father, when are you ever shocked about anything?
"I'm shocked when my daughter who barely deserves a Level Two rank is assigned to one of the most important companies available. That's when."
A flush overtakes me. If I didn't hide my skills with systems, he would never think this. I guess I didn't conceal them well enough.
I gather my mental strength. "I'm moving out. Tomorrow."
He stiffens, probably expecting something else from me, then relaxes his stance. "Good. Maybe you will assimilate better than we expected."
More sounds come from the hall and the door opens again. Mother.
Father glances toward her, announcing, "Avlyn's moving out."
Mother turns and hangs her bag on the designated hook. Before she speaks, she straightens her grayish shirt.
"Good. You have a very respectable career placement, and will have moved well before the month grace time. This will be noted as positive on your Father's and my records."
I stand and go around her. The sandwich is still in my hand, ever perfect and fresh. I work on finishing it while I walk to my room.
I don't say another word, and I doubt they care.
At my desk, I tap the viewing screen and access my account. The instructions for GenTech tomorrow are already available detailing where to go and what to expect on my first day. Since I'll walk there, I browse through and memorize the route to take and the layout of the building, a classified facility. I don't even want to discover what happens if I become unassigned from them. Of course, I could review the rules and regulations, but the walls seem to close in and squeeze me. I need air, and I'm not getting any in here.
A run. A fine excuse.
While changing into my running gear, the necklace from Ben falls from my pocket and onto the floor. What to do with this thing? I have no clue.
I snatch it from the ground, lift the mattress, and stuff it under again alongside the paper. I slip on running shoes, and fold and snap my handheld to my wrist after disabling the message function. A healthy body supports a healthy mind, so says Direction. I shouldn't even tell Mother and Father I'm going, not that they care anyway.
As I make my way through the living room, the smell of roast beef and mashed potatoes meets my nose.
"Headed to run," I call. The door closes behind me, muffling whatever Mother answers.
I burst from the building and make my way through the blandly-clad citizens returning home after the long workday. The sun has already worked its way behind the buildings. Normally, I try to run during or after training, since it lets out earlier than when citizens usually leave from work. Not all the streets are as bustling as the one in front of our apartment, so I head west on Ninety-sixth toward one offering a less congested route to the middle of the city.
The fact the park exists still amazes me, since most green spaces have been replaced with steel and concrete. Father scoffs that many people aren't ready to let go of humanity entirely. Whether I believe that to be true is another issue. Most seem ready enough to me, but the park, and a few rights, like still allowing us to birth our own children, even if we might not be able to raise them, keeps the illusion hanging on.
True or not, I'm glad it's still here.
While I jog the blocks, I pass a gym I use if I want to swim or forget to work out at training. Director Manning's face flickers on a media screen high above. His sandy hair has just begun to turn lighter at the temples.
"Curfew begins at eight p.m. For the safety of all citizens of Elore, you are required to return to your housing units by this time. Rebel attacks are on the rise…"
I check my handheld for the time. 6:14 p.m. Plenty. Manning's voice drones on.
On the next block, I pass a Direction-sanctioned café. I've never been in one. The cafés are used for meetings outside work that must be done in person. Inside sit a few couples, probably spouse pairing candidates.
Sitting with coffee and food in front them, a girl yawns, and the guy at the same table stares out the window. If love isn't part of the mix, unlikely for those two, you at least want assurance that you don't loathe the person outright. Breaking a spouse contract is rarely permitted. It upsets the focus and training of any children involved. Choosing a spouse wisely is crucial.
Finally at the park, I breathe in deeply. The earthy smell of the grass and trees lifts my spirits. Everywhere else in the city just smells like bland concrete.
Giant evergreen trees block the view of the Level One part of the city on the other side of the park. Bess Winterly, my bio mother, lives in Sector C. I'm scheduled to meet her in a couple days.
I pant for air and slowly take in the earthiness of the grass. A familiar stone bench on the far side of the park beyond the trees welcomes me. I take a seat, resting on it, closing my eyes and clearing my mind.
Take what's offered. I'm lucky. More than lucky. Most have less.
But in an instant, my VacTech upload site begins to sting again and my eyes fly open to check my palm. Other than the sensation, it seems normal, but as I stare, a tiny flickering starts at the tips of my fingers and begins to work down my whole hand, turning it a radiating white.
I gasp and look up for help, but I'm no longer in the park. Instead, I find myself in a small room with eight incubators, lined up in two rows of four. Two of them have babies inside. The panic that just filled me strangely disappears as I walk toward the containers.
The cooing babies inside are bald and pink, swaddled in fuzzy blankets. Confused, I reach toward the first one and realize my hand has returned to normal. From behind, the door to the room clicks and whooshes back. My heart leaps as I scramble for a place to hide. There's nowhere to go though, leaving me exposed in the middle of the room.
Two female medics dressed in white step in but ignore me. I stand frozen but quickly realize that they don't see me. I let out a long breath of relief. The first medic reaches into her pocket and pulls out a curious object, a syringe. I only know it from my history studies. As the woman approaches the child, it begins to fuss. Disgusted, she recoils her hand.
"They do that every time," says the second woman. "You'll get used to it. Most of them don't last long anyway." She takes the syringe from the first woman's hand and plunges it into the infant's arm.
The child wails, and as if on cue, I clutch my arm, now screaming in pain. A sharp cramp works through my limb. The other child joins in the chorus of screams, as does the sound of a chime. A heaving gasp of air escapes me and my eyelids fly open, relieved.
Until I see utter darkness. The sun should only be about to set.
Panic zips through my belly. City curfew. I check for the time on my still chiming Flexx, but instead find the words:
Lose your life and you might find it.
But time is running out.
What is this? There's no Flexx ID. Forgetting the vision, my hands go clammy as I frantically poke the screen, flicking my messages to on and displaying the clock. I suck in another breath, realizing I won't make it home in time for curfew. Why did I go to the far side of the park? If I'm caught by a Guardian and held for the night, I won't get to GenTech. A missed curfew will go on my record. It's only a first offense, but it could mean reassignment to an undesirable position, and all my new credits could be drained.
Or worse, what if a rebel attacks me?
Think, think.
The rising moonlight gleams across the skyline of Level One.
; Bess. I can make it to Bess's apartment. Barely. It's a risky choice, but my options are limited.
A shadowy figure races past me in the same direction I need to go, making my breath hitch, but they quickly disappear from view through the trees.
Lose your life and you might find it.
The words intertwined with my horrific vision tumble through my mind as I race across the grass, into the streets of Level One.
4
Level One citizens scurry into shabby apartment buildings. These people are under an identical Initiative as us, but expectations are lower, and Direction often leaves them to their own devices as long as there's no trouble.
A man ushers his spouse and a child into a building. He lays his hand on the small of the woman's back. A tiny gesture I've never seen anyone in Level Two indulge in, not in public.
As I round a corner and the family moves from view, I notice something peculiar. A boy close to my age leans against the brick wall of Bess's building. Light from an auto lamp that's just flicked on illuminates the side of his face, accentuating his square jawline. A tuft of wavy hair, just slightly longer than worn by most men, peeks from the hood of his dark fitted jacket, pulled over his head. Even with the jacket, his broad shoulders reveal he's more muscular than the typical male citizen.
Despite the hustle of remaining citizens to get into their dwellings, he looks like he's waiting for a taxi in broad daylight. As if curfew didn't apply to him. The boy reaches for the cuff of his sleeve and pushes it up with his palm, revealing an antique watch. Odd. I've seen them in my history studies, but no one wears them anymore because the Flexx is so much more useful.
I pass him and his dark eyes meet my stare. They lock onto mine, making my breath hitch. I slow to a crawl, and his lips appear to move in slow motion.
"You're late?" he asks.
"Jus… just a bit," I stutter, trying not to give away that I'm in the wrong place.
A soothing, disembodied voice announcing the three-minute warning breaks the trance at the same time my handheld vibrates. Surely it's my parents trying to reach me. They must be unhinged. Father is probably pacing the floor, and Mom's face will be scrunched up like it always gets when she's worried—something that hasn't happened in a long time.
Configured: (Book #1 in the Configured Trilogy) Page 3