by Jane Redd
Registration had been automatic. One swipe of the hand at the registration console had confirmed my presence, and I was handed an electronic tablet. My heart fluttered as I held it. I’d be able to check the news reports now and find out if Rueben had been charged or punished for a crime. I could also try using the sequence code to send him a message, but I knew I wouldn’t dare.
I sat down at my new desk and turned on the tablet. Hesitating, I finally opened the news report. I looked back over the records, skimming through the names of those who were born, Taken, or charged with crimes. My hand froze when I saw Rueben’s name. Rueben Paulo: Criminal—Security One.
I exhaled. He wasn’t listed as Charged or Taken, so that was a relief. But Security One meant his punishment would be severe if he was caught. It also meant that I couldn’t send him a message. Even if the message itself was encrypted like Rueben had explained, I worried that the Legislature could detect where the message had come from.
I opened the file called “Schedule” and saw that there was an assembly in less than an hour. It was as if I’d gone from one classroom to another, without so much as a hiccup.
I wondered why I’d been given a room to myself, but deep down I knew exactly why. They wanted to isolate me. I blew out a breath and looked around the stark dorm. I had brought nothing but an umbrella with me.
All I had left was a scar on my shoulder to remember Rueben by. The only tangible thing I owned besides the clothes I wore was the rose-shaped stone. It seemed so long ago that Sol and I had stood in the courtyard, talking about flowers and seasons. I slipped the rock under the pillow on the bed.
Sol’s words on the tram came back to me: The drive that comes from deep within you. Not everyone has that. Not everyone cares.
“No, not everyone,” I whispered to myself. “But my grandmother did.”
I dropped my head in my hands, thinking of my grandmother. When I first read her book, I had been so afraid. I had been angry, too. How could she be so foolish and break such serious rules? What was the point of that? In death, she was nothing. She had had to pass on the Carrier key to her daughter, who passed it to me. Neither of them had been able to succeed in their mission.
What if I couldn’t, either? Would I be able to pass on the Carrier key? I didn’t have a daughter. Or would each month draw the city closer to final extinction?
A chime sounded on my tablet; orientation was about to begin. I lifted my head and slowly stood, reluctant to integrate into a new education program and start whatever testing the Legislature still had in store for me.
The hallway buzzed with conversation. I searched among the faces for anyone I might know, but came up empty. Roommates seemed to already be friends, and I was alone in the crowd as we walked in a group to the auditorium.
I found an empty row near the back of the circular room. I was the only one sitting in it until right before the lights dimmed. A girl slipped in next to me. I glanced over. “Chalice?” I whispered.
She looked at me out of the corner of her eye, but didn’t turn her head.
“I was hoping you’d be here,” I said, keeping my voice low.
Still, she didn’t answer, except for a slight nod.
What was wrong with her? Her hair looked shorter than usual and her body thinner than I remembered. Her skin was paler, too.
A voice belonging to the president of the University carried over the auditorium, putting an end to my questions. “Welcome to the University. Before you divide into groups according to your assigned specialty, we have a few announcements to make. Please turn on your tablets.”
I looked around the auditorium. There were instructors stationed throughout the room, their watchful eyes on the students. All of the students I could see were diligently staring at their screens. Boys sat separately from girls, as if there were some invisible line dividing us. I didn’t see Sol anywhere. I turned my tablet on and peeked over at Chalice. She sat rigid in her chair, her hands lightly holding the tablet, the screen dark.
I sat through the monotonous announcements while sneaking glances at Chalice. She didn’t move, didn’t look at me, and didn’t turn on her tablet.
When the president finished speaking, I followed Chalice out into the foyer.
“Are you all right?” I asked. No response. Was she being monitored and not allowed to talk to anyone? I continued to walk with her until we arrived at her classroom.
I wasn’t too surprised to find out that she’d chosen Mathematics as her specialty. I stopped at the door—my ID wouldn’t register for the Mathematics orientation. From the doorway, I watched Chalice take a seat, without a backward glance at me.
Late for my own orientation, I hurried to the classroom. I was the last in my seat and the instructor—a thin, gray-haired man in his forties—gave me a brief stare-down. Thankfully, he didn’t call any further attention to my tardiness.
I took copious notes, typing in almost word for word what the instructor said in order to maintain my focus. Then I made it a point to be the first one out the door after the orientation.
Chalice was just emerging from her classroom when I turned down the hallway to meet her. I hurried to catch up with her. Maybe she’d speak to me now. “Chalice?”
Her gaze traveled slowly to look at me, her eyes resting just below my own. But there was no spark—nothing from our former friendship. Did this have something to do with me? Or with the rings she’d made?
“Tell me what happened,” I said, but she didn’t respond.
She didn’t prevent me from following her down to her dorm room on the ground-level floor, one below my own. Stepping into her room, I stopped just inside the door as it slid closed behind me. There were two beds and two desks. She obviously had a roommate.
I waited for a moment, wondering if she’d finally speak to me, or look me in the eye. But she simply sat at her desk and placed her tablet in front of her. She didn’t turn it on.
“Chalice,” I said as I sat on the bed across from her. “Did they forbid you to talk to me? Just nod if the answer is yes. I don’t want to get you into more trouble.”
Her only movement was her breathing, which was as eerily calm as her other movements had been. Then I noticed that one of her fingers was swollen and red—the finger that she used to wear the metal ring on.
I stood and moved to her, picking up her hand. The skin was chafed and peeling, as if it had been burned. Chalice offered no resistance and didn’t even seem to notice that I was examining her hand. What had they done to her?
“What happened?” I asked in the silence. “Did they take your ring?”
I scanned the rest of her, looking for any other signs of injury, but there was nothing. “Chalice,” I said again, hoping that she’d snap out of her stupor. “Did they punish you for wearing your ring again?”
Her eyes lifted to mine and her pupils expanded for a few seconds, then reduced. For an instant I thought I’d seen something in her eyes—fear, apprehension—I didn’t know what.
All that I knew was that Chalice wasn’t herself. Something had happened to her. Something awful.
Then horror vibrated through me as I realized what had happened.
Chalice had been altered.
* * *
I don’t know how I made it past Chalice’s roommate, who stepped in at that exact moment, without breaking down.
“There are no visitors to the dorm rooms,” the red-haired girl stated, her arms folded across her narrow chest. She had the sort of hard gaze and beady eyes that Sol and I used to predict belonged to student informers. I had to get out of here.
Tears stung my eyes, but I successfully held them back, mumbling an excuse as I pushed past the roommate. The corridors were completely empty; everyone had been obedient and gone inside to review their schedules and orientation notes. I sprinted up the stairs to the next floor.
Inside my room, I let out the tears that I’d been holding in.
Chalice—my defiant, energetic friend—had bee
n altered. They had taken her essence. She might still be alive, but she was no longer Chalice.
I started to shake as the anger and sorrow of the injustice blended into a fierce ache in the pit of my stomach. I paced the room until it was dark. When a message popped up on the tablet informing me that I’d missed dinner and it would be logged into my report, I turned it off.
By the time the last bit of gray in the sky turned to black, I had my plan in place. I just had to find Sol.
Twenty-three
The rain fell in sheets, drenching me from the knees down as I walked across campus. I’d brought an umbrella, thinking it would look less like I was sneaking around. I hoped if I was stopped, I could use Matthews’ name to gain some credibility. Surely, there was a link to my name in the University database that labeled me as a special test subject.
My feet were wet and cold, and I was still shaking—but this time from the weather. The lamp posts that dotted the campus looked like fireflies, high up in the sky, and the rain blocked out almost all visibility.
I had to tell Sol—tell him everything. About the altering, about me asking Rueben to cut out my implant, about my failed escape. We had to get help for Chalice. Maybe something he knew about the Before could help. Maybe there was a way to appeal to the Legislature. If not, I’d have to figure out how to help her myself. I didn’t know if I could totally trust Sol, but he was all I had.
I walked along the fencing that separated the buildings of the men and women’s dorms. There were still plenty of lights on in the boys’ windows. Apparently the curfew wasn’t as strict as in the girls’ dorms, where the lights had shut off promptly at ten thirty. It was close to midnight now. I’d sent a message to Sol through the tablet, making it vague enough to not give too much away, but hoping he’d understand and meet me at the fence.
I looked through the metal bars, hoping to see a figure hurrying toward me. I didn’t dare touch the bars, in case they triggered an alarm. The fence stretched up about ten feet over my head, topped off by rows of sharp spikes. If it wasn’t for the green foliage lining the fence, it would look very ominous.
I waited a few more minutes, then started walking again, this time toward the front of campus. A glimmer of light came from the guard station at the front gate. I stopped before getting too close, throwing another glance over my shoulder, searching for Sol.
A guard sat inside the station, his profile clear. He was watching a monitor, his eyes half-closed. I took several steps back, concealing myself in the thicker part of the trees. I didn’t know what exactly was on the monitor, but I imagined it included images of the fence.
My heart echoed the rhythm of the rain, and I crept away, putting distance between myself and the guard. I looked up into the trees and along the top of the fence, realizing there must be cameras at every angle. It was only a matter of time before someone saw me on the monitor. And if they were tracking me through my new implant, I’d be found for sure.
I moved toward the dorm building again, keeping an eye through the fence. Then I stopped. Someone was walking on the other side. Sol? The man moved briskly, the hood of his raincoat pulled over his head.
I took a few steps back, concealing myself in the trees, watching the man to make sure it was Sol. But he didn’t stop, didn’t slow, or even look in my direction as he continued toward the gates of the University. Not Sol. Where was he? Had he received my message?
My heart sank. It was more than thirty minutes past the time I told him to meet me. He’d either ignored the message, or wasn’t able to get out of his dorm.
At least the guard hadn’t seen me, I thought with relief. I’d send another message to Sol in the morning if I hadn’t heard from him by then. I turned around and bumped into something . . . someone.
“Come with me, miss,” a woman’s voice said. Her hand gripped my arm.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Save your explanation until we’re inside,” she said.
I hadn’t even been at the University one full day, and now this. I walked with the woman back to the dorm building, her hand still on my arm. When we stepped into the lighted foyer, I noticed she was much younger than I’d assumed. Her hair was pulled back into a severe knot, but she appeared to be only a few years older than me.
“Sit,” she said, with no other preamble. She took her own seat at the front desk and I grabbed one from the perimeter of the room, “What’s your name? And what were you doing?”
I told her my name then said, “I couldn’t sleep.”
“No one is allowed to leave the building after curfew.”
I lowered my eyes. I should have prepared a ready answer.
“This will need to be reported,” she said. “Also, the tracking on your implant will be more closely monitored for the foreseeable future.”
My throat tightened at the thought of garnering more attention from a government office. What if altering Chalice was one of my tests—to see how I’d react?
The woman typed something on a tablet. “Oh,” she said in a quiet voice.
I looked up at her.
Her face had pinked. “You’re already being tracked.” She met my gaze, her expression wary. “What’s your specialty?”
“Neuroscience,” I gulped out. How long had I been outside, walking along the fence? Over thirty minutes. And had I been tracked the whole time? “So, you weren’t sent by anyone?”
The woman started to shake her head, then stopped. Her tone returned to business. “I’ll file my report and let the board hand down their restrictions.”
“Restrictions?”
Her mouth twisted. “Read the orientation guide,” she said, glancing at her tablet, “Miss James.” Her mouth closed firmly.
“Can I go now?”
She nodded and watched me walk past her. Not until I was on the second level did I feel the penetration of her gaze lift.
I was being tracked. Probably since my new implant. Entering my dark room, I looked around, wondering if there were cameras watching me, too. With the light still off, I picked up my tablet. No message from Sol. I moved to the window and stared out at the rain.
Why hadn’t he replied? Even to say he couldn’t meet me?
It was too risky, I thought. Sol knew that. Would he be upset at me for asking him to break the rules?
This was Sol, I reminded myself. He’s the one who’d been to Detention several times. He’s the one who told me about his grandfather’s album. But we were at the University level now. Maybe he was being tracked, too.
Maybe we were both being tested.
I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering from the damp.
“What is happening to us, Sol?” I whispered. But he wasn’t there to answer.
Sleep was impossible, so I read the orientation guide before the pale morning arrived. By then my head hurt and my stomach pinched with hunger from the meal that I’d missed. I plowed through the guide, wanting to know everything.
Apparently the dorm buildings weren’t locked, but students were expected to abide by the honor system code. If the codes were violated, restrictions were enacted. It was just before 7:00 a.m. when a message popped onto my tablet: Restriction Order for Jezebel James: All instructors must sign you in and out of each class period for thirty days. Your dorm room will be sealed during curfew hours.
My heart sank as I read the words. I tried the door of my room, and it wouldn’t open. The restriction had already begun.
I turned back to the orientation guide. Curfew hours were 11:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m. I waited two more minutes until the time was exactly 7:00 a.m. then tried the door again. It opened.
My stomach growling, I was one of the first to arrive at the cafeteria. A few other girls sat at the tables. When I entered the room, each of them looked up, knowing expressions on their faces, then they quickly turned back to their tablets, as if they didn’t want to be caught staring.
I felt uneasy. Had the restriction notice been sent to everyone?
Two kitchen workers watched me approach the food table.
I picked up a bowl of banana-flavored yogurt. We’d studied fruits of the world, but I’d never tasted a real banana. I sat across from one of the girls, who didn’t look up as I took my place. After a few minutes, she moved away.
I finished my meal, returned the yogurt dish to the cafeteria workers to be cleaned, then walked out, still feeling hungry. But I didn’t want to stay in the cafeteria with everyone so silent and watchful. I’d report early to class.
I entered the same building as the day before, where most of the science classes were on the ground level. My first class was geology—what I could specialize in. The room was plain with a high ceiling, pale blue walls, and about a dozen desk consoles. I was the first to arrive, and the instructor looked up when I entered. He had a narrow face, wide-set eyes, and a scruff of graying hair.
I crossed to him and handed over my tablet. “I’m Jezebel James,” I said. “I need to be signed into class.”
“I was expecting you.” He took the tablet and pressed a finger on the electronic box. His frown reminded me of Dr. Matthews.
I sat at a desk as others slowly filed in, taking their seats. No one looked at me directly, yet it felt as if everyone were staring at me. My restriction had obviously been broadcast. Each time I glanced up, eyes averted. No doubt they were all studying me in the hopes that it would help them avoid being in the same situation—after all, I’d somehow found a way to get into trouble before the first class had even started.
I looked straight ahead and breathed out slowly, wishing I could ignore all of the stares and silent speculation. Even with my new restrictions, my focus was on helping Chalice. But how?
I needed to find Sol, to see if he could help. There was no one else that I could trust.
The instructor walked to the front of the class at precisely 8:00 a.m. and began his lecture. Everyone typed on their tablets, taking rapid notes. I typed just as furiously, not always comprehending exactly what I wrote.