by A. W. Cross
“It wouldn’t surprise me, even if it is against the law.” Before the war, law enforcement had been overseen by Wakelight. With crime nearly non-existent, the teams of human and robotic officers had been mostly for show. But now that the AI had minimal involvement, the force itself had become unstable and corrupt. Rumors of people being arrested and disappearing swirled through The Vault. Even the transgressions changed daily, the law now a fluid thing governed by a mystery.
And speak of the devil… Beauty held a finger to her lips and pulled Red back around the corner they’d just turned. Shadows fell over the grubby alley, lengthened, paused, then slunk away. Beauty waited a full minute before she let herself breathe again.
Jere believed that Wakelight was more present than The Vault knew, that it had made the force aggressive on purpose so people would keep their heads down and not ask questions—like what was happening outside the wall. Were they winning? Losing? For days, the rest of the Guild had avoided him, as though his traitorous thoughts were contagious. Treason was, after all, a plea to disappear.
They scuttled down narrow side streets until they had no choice but to step onto the main boulevard. Beauty peeked around the wall first, scanning for any signs of danger. Red still had her nose stuck in her map. “Come on.” They emerged at the foot of a rise on which stood an ornate building, a lavishly carved dome atop a heavy square base.
Wakelight, and the center of the city. Beauty had loved to climb the grassy hill when she was little, gazing out over the city’s sectors from the shadow of their caregiver. Wakelight still existed there, somewhere, though it was no longer concerned with tending to its citizens. How far into ruin would the AI let them go? The banner hanging outside had once proclaimed A Shining Future for All. The grimy one there now instead read Future for the Faithful.
Beauty sighed. Being faithful wouldn’t make a single bit of difference if the war didn’t end soon. Every sector of the city would be stripped bare, and they would lose. And if even they won? They’d never be able to rebuild the timeworn stone buildings, now little more than crumbling palaces for the rats who watched with shrewd eyes behind the few shards of glass still clinging to their frames. In fact, the only beauty left in the city was the agricultural sector, its tall vertical gardens practically the sole color in The Vault that wasn’t some shade of gray or brown.
“How did we end up here?” Red had finally taken her eyes off the map.
“You’re the one with the map, not me.” If it were up to Beauty, they wouldn’t bother with a map; they both knew the city grid by heart. But Red had thought they might be missing some unexplored corner of the artisan sector—the area assigned to the Hallow Hands—where they would find an unspoiled cache.
It was the same story she’d heard whispered in the night market, the one place where all the Guilds sat side-by-side. Every Guild was struggling. Even the agricultural sector was finding it difficult to continue producing. How long could they possibly keep it up?
“Let’s just go home.” Beauty was tired, dirty, and deflated. “It’s getting late.” Already the smell of roasting apples drifted on the air; the night market was setting up for business as the dull sky grew even duller. They weren’t going to find anything worthwhile today, not without a miracle. And miracles didn’t happen in The Vault.
Beauty and Red made it back to the warren unscathed, as had all the others. Except Father. He should’ve returned by now, but perhaps he and the Beast had more business to talk about, such as upcoming requisitions. Beauty didn’t want to think about the alternatives.
After Red disappeared to their bedroom to hide her knife from Kaitlin’s thieving fingers, Beauty found herself alone at the kitchen table with Violet. The older girl’s expression was downcast, her eyes red-rimmed and shoulders hunched.
“V? Are you okay?” Violet was friendly enough to Beauty, or had been until she and Arjun became lost in their own little world.
“I’m fine.” Her voice was stiff. Mind your own business.
“Okay.” Beauty opened one of the cupboards and rummaged through the shelves. Red had baked some biscuits the other day and right now, they, and a cup of strong of chicory, would make the world right again. If Jere hasn’t found them first.
“I just don’t understand it!”
Violet’s outburst caught Beauty by surprise and her head collided with the cupboard door. “Are you talking to me?”
“Who else would I be talking to?” the other girl snapped, her face softening seconds afterward. “I’m sorry, Beauty, I just—” She peered around the kitchen, as though expecting Kaitlin to be hiding in the sugar jar. “Can we talk?”
“Of course.” Beauty gave up trying to find the biscuits and sat on the bench across from Violet, rubbing the tender spot on the top of her scalp. “What’s up?”
The other girl wasted no time. “It’s Arjun. We’ve had a fight.” She sighed dramatically.
“What about?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay.”
Beauty was halfway out of her seat when Violet grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”
“You said you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s just what people say, Beauty.” Her lip trembled.
“I—” She sat back down.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going to ask me about it?”
Beauty sighed. “What was the fight about?”
“He should’ve stood up for me!” Violet slammed her fist on the table.
“What do you mean?”
“With Father. Arjun should’ve demanded that we get to stay together.”
“But Violet, Father could’ve cast him out. Is that what you want?”
“No, of course not, but…but he should’ve done it anyway. That’s what love is.”
It is? Putting yourself in harm’s way? But of course she couldn’t say that. Violet’s hand was still balled into a fist. “But Violet, not getting kicked out ensures you get to stay together.”
“But it doesn’t. When I got angry with him, he told me we should break up. Just like that, like I was nothing.”
Beauty searched her heart for sympathy and found none. “It was the right decision, V. If you still love each other after the war, you can be together then, right? You heard what Father said. It’s dangerous.” In so many ways.
Rachel and Galen. But we don’t talk about them.
“So? I don’t want to be apart from him, ever.”
Ever? Was she ill? It was inconceivable that you would want to be with someone all the time. Beauty loved Red, but she was still glad to have time away from her. Spending twenty-four hours with the same person, day after day? What if they ran out of things to talk about? How did they not annoy the hell out of each other? But of course, they clearly did, or she wouldn’t be sitting here right now.
Violet leaned forward and gestured for Beauty to do the same. “I’m thinking of asking him to run away with me.” Her voice was hushed.
Had Beauty heard correctly? “Run away?”
“Shh! Do you want everyone else to hear?”
“But, V, you can’t.”
“Why not?” V stuck out her chin. “We’ve given everything to this stupid war and I’m sick of it. I don’t want to do it anymore.”
“Violet, be quiet!” Beauty grabbed her hands. What was with everyone lately? It was treason. “You can’t talk like that. Not here, not anywhere.” And she certainly couldn’t run away. It wasn’t allowed. She’d—
She’d end up like them. Hung on the hill where Wakelight lived, until even the rats weren’t interested anymore.
The chips in their necks might be useless for their original purpose, but they still kept track of where they were at all times. Defectors from the war were not tolerated.
And they shouldn’t be.
Galen and Rachel had been selfish. They’d been happy to let everyone keep fighting for their lives, wh
ile they tried to hide in the countryside, to live in secret, to escape. Escape what? The future? Well, that was exactly what they’d done. And it was right. Victory hung on such a slender thread that they needed to be unified. Any dissidence could not be allowed, or it would spread like the sickness until The Vault fell and they all died at the hands of their enemies.
But Violet was petulant. “Why not? I bet there are ways it could be done. We could remove our chips, and—”
“Violet, you can’t! Don’t you remember what happened?”
Violet stared at the table; inside Beauty’s hands, her palms grew slick. “They weren’t careful.”
“Yes, they were. Galan was smarter than all of us. They took their chips out. They covered their tracks.”
“Then how did they get caught?”
“Someone told on them, Violet.”
“Who?”
“One of us.”
Violet raised her hand to her mouth, and grief clawed at Beauty’s heart. This was what love did to you. Any kind of love.
“But who?”
Beauty shook her head. “I don’t know for sure. But it’s the only way I can think of that they would’ve been found out. Please, Violet, don’t do it. I’m begging you. Just wait until the war is over. Your and Arjun’s love will still be there.”
“This war will never be over! How long have we been fighting it? Do you even remember the time before the war? Wake up. Dedication, Duty, Defiance. Search. Dedication, Duty, Defiance. Go to sleep. It’s all we do.” Her mouth twisted. “What if it never ends? Then we’ll have spent our entire existence searching through ruins. Our lives are ruins.” She began crying, loud, ugly, gulping sobs that were sure to bring the others running.
Beauty grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her face close to hers. “Violet. You have to stop this. Now. If any of the others hear you—” She left the threat hanging in the scrap of air between them. Please, let her understand. If she could calm Violet down now, it might still be okay. If no one heard her.
But someone had.
Kaitlin stood in the shadows, her hand on the doorway, her eyes fixed on Violet.
“Kaitlin, Violet’s just upset right now. She—”
“I heard everything.”
Beauty dropped Violet’s hand back on the table and stood. Turning, she squared her shoulders and stalked up to Kaitlin, her heart hamming in her chest. The other girl bared her teeth and held her ground.
“You can’t tell anyone what you just heard.”
Kaitlin sneered. “I can. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”
It was the last straw. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you so horrible? You know what will happen if Father or the others find out. She’ll be arrested, or worse. Is that what you want?” The desire to punch Kaitlin right in her smirking mouth was almost overwhelming.
Kaitlin laughed. “Oh, calm down. I’m not going to tell anyone.”
“You’re not?” Suspicion prickled the hairs on the back of Beauty’s neck. “Why not?”
“Because I couldn’t care less. Let her run away if she wants. More glory for the rest of us. Besides, she’s not wrong.”
Beauty gaped. Kaitlin had always seemed so dedicated to the cause. Ruthlessly dedicated.
“Close your mouth, Beauty.”
“But I—”
“What? Thought we were all simpering little disciples like you? Dedication, Duty, Defiance? Future for the Faithful? Oh please. I don’t care about this stupid war. I just want it to be over, one way or another. All I care about is that if we do win, I’ve gotten enough points to have some kind of decent life afterward.”
“I—” How many of them felt this way?
A sigh of despair spun Beauty around. Violet had wilted at the kitchen table, her head in her arms. “Don’t ever fall in love, Beauty.” She pressed her face into the wood.
“Oh my god, will you please shut up with all the melodrama?” Kaitlin’s mouth curled in disgust. There was a racket down the hall as the entrance door flew open. “Besides, I think Father’s home.”
Father was home. Stinking and soaking, an abrasion on his head crusted with blood. Purple bruises were forming on his skin, and he walked with a limp.
“Father!” Beauty rushed up to him, draping his arm across her shoulder as she helped him to the table. “Kaitlin, quick, get the others.” But Kaitlin was already sprinting down the hall to the dorms. This was bad. No one had ever dared to attack Father before, not so openly, where everyone else would be able to see.
No one but the Beast.
Damn him. Not only had he hurt the man who’d raised her, he’d put the whole Guild in a vulnerable position. If anyone had seen Father making his way home, the word about his weakened state would spread like wildfire.
“Beauty, I’m fine.” He batted away her hands. “Leave it.”
The others converged on the kitchen. Jere’s face was like thunder. “What the hell happened?”
“Father was attacked by the Beast.”
Chaos broke out in the room, threats of retribution and violence. Impotent, empty threats.
Only Felix said nothing. He sat down and tied his boots, jerking them so hard that one of the laces snapped.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Father winced as he spoke, and a small line of blood welled on his lip.
“Where do you think? I’m going to pay that bastard a visit.” Felix stood and patted his pockets.
“Sit down. Nobody’s going anywhere.” Father nodded as Violet handed him a cloth for his lip.
Felix frowned. “But—”
“I said sit down.” It was a command. “You will not be going anywhere near the Beast. Any of you. Now promise me.”
Felix refused to meet his eyes.
Father grabbed his arm, his fingers digging into the fabric of his coat. “I said promise me!”
“I promise.” Felix jerked his arm away and retreated to the other side of the room to sulk.
“What’s the matter with you?” Father turned to Violet. Her eyes were bloodshot, and one of her cuticles was bleeding.
“She was just worried about you, the silly cow.” Kaitlin rolled her eyes and took a seat next to Violet. “I told her you’d be fine.” She dug her elbow into Violet’s ribs and smiled too brightly at her. “I told you he’d be fine. Now you can stop being so ridiculous.”
“I really am fine, Violet.” This time, Father’s voice was kind. He reached out and patted her hand, which only made her choke back another sob.
Kaitlin’s smile turned grim and Violet winced.
Beauty kindled the fire and suspended a large pot of water over it. The electricity was out again. They were lucky if they got more than a few hours a day now. They did have a generator, but they used it only to power the security system.
The others—aside from Felix, who had his pride, after all—took a seat at the table, and Beauty joined them as she waited for the water to boil.
“So what happened? Why did the Beast attack you?” Jere’s spoke brusquely, biting off each word. The attack on Father had clearly shaken him.
Father rubbed his thumb over a welt on the back of his hand. “He wasn’t happy with the quality of the jewelry.”
Jere exploded. “What? The quality? He does realize we’re only retrieving the stupid things, not making them, doesn’t he? It’s an artifact.” He gripped the edge of the table, his nails gouging the soft wood. “And he beat you for that?”
The others murmured their discontent and the tension in the room grew thicker.
Beauty stared at Father, at the way his eyes were downcast, at the pressure he applied to the wound. He’s lying.
But about what? Clearly, he had been attacked.
“So what are we going to do about it then?” Felix spoke between gritted teeth. He left his corner and came to stand at Jere’s shoulder.
“We’re going to do nothing.” Father wiped the blood from his skin with determined strokes, keeping his eyes firmly on the
cloth.
“Why not? He can’t treat us this way. I don’t give a damn about his reputation. We can take him.”
“It’s not that simple, Felix. It’s not about whether we could beat him in a fight. He’s our only link to the outside world right now. The way we deal with him will impact our future when the war is over. Do you really want to jeopardize that over a couple of bumps and bruises?”
“So that’s it? We just let him treat us however he wants?”
“For now, yes. We play nice.”
“But how far will it go?” Kaitlin’s expression was calculating. “If he gets away with this, what will he do the next time?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Father sighed and dropped the cloth on the table. “We have to be smart, pick our battles as we always have. This is no exception.”
Beauty glanced around the table. He was losing them. They’d made their reputation by being smart, cunning, and ruthless. This was the first time Father had ever shown them weakness.
He sensed it as well. “Look, think of it as a long game. We bide our time—for now. When the war is over, he loses that position of power over us. Then,” he mustered a wicked grin, “we remind him of what he did, and we take care of it.”
There was silence until Jere leaned back from the table and shrugged. “That’s different. I can live with that. As long as he’s not going to go unpunished.” The others murmured in agreement, mollified. Only Felix continued to glower. But he would come around; he always did.
Beauty rose from the table and pulled a mug out of the cupboard. At least Father was home safely. Hopefully, what had happened would distract him from her and Red’s disastrous day. It was a selfish thought, when he sat there bruised and bloody, but she was too tired and disheartened to bear the irritation in his eyes. Or worse, the disappointment. She was already disappointed enough. Not a single contribution today to help end the war. If it did drag on forever, like Violet said, it would be partly her fault.