The Choosing

by Rachelle Dekker

  2

  The train ride to her new home seemed to last an eternity. Between the whimpering girls, the muggy air, and the swirl of anxiety, Carrington wasn’t sure how she survived the trip. It was hard to ignore the voice screaming that she had to escape. At one point she tried to pry open the window. Bolted shut. Clearly she wasn’t the first to have that idea.

  Her mind was in a wild debate—one side screaming that what was happening to her was impossible, that she had been perfect, that she had followed all the rules. The other side reminding her that this was God’s plan, that she had been a fool to expect anything more. Back and forth words flew like arrows until her pulse thundered behind her brow.

  Girls around her were crying, mourning the death of their hopes, but Carrington kept her heart chained. She would accept her fate. Only an hour earlier the entire community had deemed her unworthy to be a wife. They may as well have carved it into her skin. She would not let them call her weak as well. Only the thought of her brother’s face rattled her strength.

  The train screeched to a halt, tossing its cargo. The large steel door strained open and wispy fingers of smoke spread into the car around the girls’ feet.

  “Disembark in single file,” a guard shouted.

  Reluctant shuffling sounded throughout the cabin, but no one actually went anywhere. Each girl feared being the first off the train.

  “Now!”

  The movement surged into productive activity, and one by one the passengers stepped into the night.

  A frigid breeze stung Carrington’s bare shoulders as she followed in line toward the gaping structure before her.

  Every girl knew about the Lint complexes. Even though they were located along the eastern wall that surrounded the city, the upper tips of the structures were visible from the Practicing House where the girls spent their days learning their requirements—lessons that were supposed to keep them from ending up here.

  The line slowed to a stop, and Carrington craned her neck backward, trying to see through the darkness to the tops of the buildings before her. There were three of them, towering black monsters, identical in shape—tall, thin, ten windows across and three times as many high. They had served as apartment buildings in the Old Americas, but now they were an icon of fear and a feature in every little girl’s nightmares.

  That fear crept into Carrington’s bones as the line inched forward. Shivering from the cold and terrified of what awaited her inside the black beasts, she closed her eyes and focused on clinging to her sanity; yet her imagination seized the opportunity and turned the scene behind her eyelids into a horror show: girls in the simple gray Lint uniforms locked in small dark spaces, alone and screaming for help with no response, begging to be let out as they mourned for their lost lives. The strength she had managed to acquire in the train was suddenly nowhere to be found.

  “Miss,” a strange voice said.

  Carrington’s eyes snapped open, and she saw that the girl in front of her had moved forward. A guard stood beside her with a questioning look on his face.

  Carrington whispered, “Sorry,” as she hurried forward.

  The guard nodded and Carrington couldn’t help but notice the kindness in his face. The CityWatch had a dark reputation: mechanical, obedient, and menacing. She had never encountered a guard who did not make her bones quiver . . . until now.

  “Next,” another voice called in front of her.

  Carrington stepped up to a guard who reminded her of why she feared the CityWatch. A deep scar ran the length of his right cheek, and his black eyes drilled a hole into her.

  “Name?” he barked.

  “Carrington Hale.”

  The guard entered the information into a small computer screen housed in the end of his uniform sleeve. Every CityWatch member’s uniform had the same technology. This tool helped them log information, which was then sent to a larger database controlled by the Authority. It tracked guards’ positions, served as a communicating device, and acted as a key for building access. The device also adjusted a thermostat in their uniforms to maintain a comfortable body temperature and worked as a defensive barricade against opposing forces. Carrington knew the Lint uniforms were designed similarly, but with a more primary purpose of monitoring each girl at all times.

  “Station?” the guard said.

  “Cattle Lands.”

  “Rank?”

  “Top tier.”

  The guard raised one eyebrow in confusion. “Top tier?”

  Carrington was glad for the cover of darkness because she could feel heat flood her face. In the final practicing session of a girl’s seventeenth year, the class instructor placed each girl into a ranking tier based on overall performance. Top-tier girls were almost always assured to be chosen.

  She nodded and the guard shook his head. He finished tapping information across his sleeve and then glanced up at her.

  “Makes you wonder where you went wrong.”

  Carrington wished he had just slapped her across the face. It would have stung less than his words. She swallowed and moved forward as he directed. The line took her into the front lobby of the middle building. The light was dim but gave enough illumination to reveal the room around her.

  Bare light-gray walls made a perfect square, enclosing the space. The floors were lined with a dark wood that creaked under pressure. Four elevators with shining metal doors loomed along the farthest wall, and a large, round desk stood in the center of the room, occupied by a single woman. Girls approached the desk, were separated into groups of four, and then were directed to the elevators.

  Carrington stepped up to the desk and the attendant barely acknowledged her. The woman looked young and from her gray uniform was clearly a Lint. Her hair was pulled away from her face, which Carrington could hardly see since the woman had all her attention trained on the desk. Blue 3-D images that gave off a soft light hovered slightly above the wood surface of the desk. The woman lightly touched different portions of the display, and the whole scene changed, a new set of images now before her. Controls, lists of names, video from different parts of the building, a large variety of numbers that made no sense to Carrington—all of it resided at the tips of the woman’s fingers.

  The attendant grabbed a small disc chip, swiped it across a sensor, waited for a beep, and then handed it across the top of the desk to Carrington, all without taking her eyes away from the floating images.

  Carrington hesitantly took the chip.

  “Group seven, to the left, elevator two,” the woman said. Her eyes never left the display.

  Carrington turned left and walked to join three other girls standing single file behind a thin metal sign with the number 7 etched at the top. None of the girls looked up at her as she approached to take her place in line.

  From out of nowhere another Lint appeared to Carrington’s right. She was young as well, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders, but her face looked tired and worn. She pressed the receptor tucked in her ear and announced that group seven was complete. The Lint was silent as she received instructions in her earpiece, then moved to the front of the line and motioned for the group to follow her to the elevator.

  Carrington stepped into the elevator last and watched the metallic door seal them in. It was only the five of them as the machine softly sprang to life. She braced herself for it to move with uneasy force as the train had, but the elevator glided as it climbed the building.

  “This is Building Two,” the Lint guide said. “Your room is located on the fifteenth floor. Inside your room you will find a clean Authority Worker uniform that you are required to wear at all times. The chip you received should be inserted into your uniform immediately and will grant you access to the building during approved hours as well as to your room. Chips must be placed in the docking station on your dresser overnight. Upon arrival you will change into your uniform and discard what you are currently wearing in the provided waste bins for disposal.”

  She sounded robotic, and Ca
rrington couldn’t help but wonder how many times she had given this speech.

  “Rules for the good of the building and peace among your people are clearly posted in each bedroom as well as in the hallways and dining areas. Curfew is promptly at 10:00 each night. After 10:00 p.m. your chip will not grant you access to the building until sunup, so you are advised not to be late.”

  The elevator stopped and the door slid open to reveal a narrow hallway. It had better lighting than the entry and held at least a dozen doors lining each side. Their guide walked out of the elevator and turned to the left. With only a moment’s hesitation the girls followed.

  “At this point I am assuming you have figured out the four of you will be sharing a loft. Inside you will find two bedrooms, a common area, and a single bathroom. If you experience any cohabiting issues with another girl, you are free to file an official complaint, but there are no guarantees it will be addressed. My second piece of advice is to learn how to get along.”

  The woman stopped in front of a room with a cream-colored door. Most of the doors on the hall were a similar color with the exception of a few black ones. A small box with a single red light was perched beside each door at about eye level. Their guide placed her wrist in front of the box and waited for it to beep twice. A soft click echoed through the quiet hallway, and the door in front of them popped open.

  The guide let the four girls file into the space before moving back to stand in the open doorway.

  “Mealtimes are posted in your bedrooms as well. If you want to eat, do not be late. Your instructional religious ceremony begins in half an hour. Participation is mandatory. Tomorrow you will be placed in a trade, so I suggest you come straight back to your room afterward and get some sleep. There’s a library on the fourth floor, but if you know what’s good for you, you won’t waste your time reading. Don’t be late for the ceremony.”

  The four girls stood like statues as the Lint guide shut the door, leaving them alone in silence. Several long moments passed before any of them moved. Carrington glanced around the room. The loft was cold and plain like the lobby downstairs—a simple, square room with minimal seating, drab colors, and three open doors leading to the two bedrooms and shared bathroom. The only glimmer of life in the room was a small window in the middle of the outside wall.

  Carrington walked to the window and struggled with a heavy wave of emotion. She could see the brightly lit city from here. The tall buildings were illuminated with brilliant lights and decorated with Authority markings. She could make out the Capitol Building, the House of Peace, the CityWatch Center, and the homes of all ten Authority members and their families. That area was outlined with a thirteen-foot wall that had twenty-four-hour CityWatch protection. It was appropriately named the High-Rise Sector, but most people called it the Ritz.

  The land that surrounded the wall and stretched out for miles was known as the Flats. Across the far west wall of the High-Rise Sector lay the Cattle Lands—the section of the Flats that Carrington called home. The countryside was peppered with soft lights as its inhabitants settled for the night and tucked their children into bed, telling them stories of the Old Americas and the Authority.

  A lump formed in Carrington’s throat, and she turned away from the glass to find the other girls had moved to the bedrooms, leaving her alone. She claimed the last bed, a small, steel-framed twin with standard white sheets and a single, uninviting pillow. Lying on the bed were three gray uniforms that were painful to touch—painful because of the reality they drove home: that she was stuck in a life that would never hold the future she had been promised, that she really was as worthless as she’d always feared.

  The Histories

  SECTION 1.3

  The Prima Solution was introduced to the public in the year 2107. Created by Dr. Helena Zefnerbach and her team at Prima Global, the Prima Solution was an inoculation believed to hold the potential for eradicating all illness. The drug was designed to serve as a biochemical advancement for the immune system, turning the body’s cells into elite organisms with the ability to destroy harmful bacteria, tumor cells, cancer stems, viruses, and all other antigens that triggered immune responses.

  Prima Global, located in the Old American state of Minnesota, had been working on the miracle drug for over fifteen years before achieving results that could be replicated and were sustainable. The company drew national attention with its remarkable results and received significant funding from government grants, which allowed the facility to accelerate the project.

  By the time the Prima Solution was released in 2107, scientists had discovered applications for the drug in all fields of immunology and virology as well as gerontology. Tests showed a slowing in the aging of human cells. Within weeks, demand for the product far exceeded production capabilities. The administered dose involved five different injections, three in the first twelve months, followed by two boosters over the next twenty-four months.

  A large majority of recipients of the injection saw positive results, but a small group of individuals (1 in 10,000) failed to respond to the inoculations. Studies showed that some subjects had mutated cells that rejected the Prima Solution after the third injection. Dr. Zefnerbach and her team attempted to modify the formula for this mutation to no avail.

  Despite the rare complications, the Prima Solution appeared to be a success. At the end of the first thirty-six months, illness and aging were already becoming anomalies rather than the norm. In 2110 the United Nations announced it would be working with the Red Cross to distribute the Prima Solution to all nations of the world. By 2111 the Prima Solution was on all seven continents, and the Red Cross had gained access to the most remote areas around the globe.

  As a result, Prima Global grew exponentially and soon began building factories and plants in more than fifty countries, fueling its unprecedented trajectory to its status in 2112 as the most profitable company in history.

  Yet as Dr. Zefnerbach’s major contribution to modern medicine reached around the globe, the urgency with which the product was pushed out allowed for an oversight that threatened the extinction of the world’s population.

  3

  Isaac Knight smoothed the front of his ceremonial robe and took a long, deep breath. He could hear the newly acquired Authority Workers making their way into the chapel that lay behind the red curtain before him. The room around him was small and dimly lit to facilitate reflection and focus before he stepped out to deliver his customary speech. Only a small, high table that held his copy of the Veritas accompanied Isaac in the space.

  He placed his hand on the holy book and fought off the pounding behind his eyes. It had become crystal clear to him over the last couple of months how far the Authority and its people had fallen away from the original rule of righteousness. Over time the ego that served the flesh and sought to have religion and order done away with had managed to seep beneath the surface of the law. The same law that was supposed to govern this city, to give it direction, to remind its citizens of what God can do to a people who have fallen into utter darkness. How many times had Isaac found himself retelling the story of their fall? Pleading with the people to understand that the Time of Ruin was a punishment from the heavens for the injustice that flooded the streets of humanity’s cities. That as God had done before, He could easily do again.

  Even though the mandatory ceremonies were still held and attendance was recorded, the spirit of truth was missing from behind the people’s eyes. Isaac would stand at the pulpit, searching for those whose loyalty to the faith ran deeper than mere attendance. He thirsted for it like water, something to cover the overwhelming dryness that plagued him. Was he the only true believer left?

  Isaac often lay awake at night, contemplating whether the Holy Robert Carson had wondered the same thing. Whether that burning question of belief was the reason he’d brought the Veritas to the people. The longing to convey a proper understanding of the great power of righteousness. It gave Isaac a small amount of relief to imagine that
he was like-minded with someone so completely committed to truth. He heard the voice deep inside his soul, the reconfirming message that he was walking along the proper path. That he should have no fear, for soon all would be brought back to holiness.

  Isaac smiled and let the voice ease the pain in his skull. Even now he had another opportunity to offer salvation for those in need. New workers were brought into the Stacks four times each year, and each season Isaac greeted them with his speech and with the law. Standing before them, he saw the fear in their eyes. Some still had tears clinging to their cheeks; some displayed anger working its way through their bodies, each one fragile and broken.

  Some people might find it sad or feel moved to empathy for these poor souls, but Isaac understood the ways of God differently than most. He knew refining fire was necessary for true purification and growth. Pain was necessary to accomplish the way of true order. Salvation.

  “All rise for Authority Knight,” said a voice from inside the chapel.

  The shuffling of feet echoed as Isaac exhaled, placed a kiss on the holy ring he always wore, as was the custom before any religious ceremony, grabbed the Veritas, and stepped through the curtain.

  The room was deadly silent as Isaac walked to center stage and placed the holy book on a small pedestal. He looked out across the faces and drank in their grief, their suffering. He let them stand a moment longer than was necessary and absorbed their angst. Finally he nodded for them to be seated and in unison they sat.

  Isaac began, “The Veritas reads, ‘Let every citizen be subject to the Authority. For there is no true authority except from God, and those who have been appointed have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists the Authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment.’ As God set forth the law, so the law must be obeyed.”