by RS McCoy
“That’s all right, Georgie. Just whatever you think we need to know. Dasia?”
Nick stood with his eyes on her, waiting. Dasia jumped to her feet, suddenly nervous. “Um, I’m Dasia Daugherty,” she said too quickly. “I’m from Monarch, Montana in the Northwest Sector.”
She hadn’t meant to say his name, to make it as if it were her own. But it was too late now. Dasia didn’t want to explain it to any of them.
With a hint of an upturned smile, Nick said, “Thank you. Jane, you’re next.”
“I’m pretty sure everyone knows me, but I’m Jane Gallagher.” A hand elegantly flipped her hair over her shoulder as she turned to address the entire group. Dasia would have loved to have a quarter her confidence. “I’m a Scholar with a focus on robotics and mechanical engineering. Oh, and I’m from Philly.” She shot them her winning smile and descended back to her chair.
“Very nice, Jane. Mable?”
The black-haired girl didn’t move, no response whatsoever.
Nick recovered quickly, as if he expected it. “Well, anyways, this is Mable. She’ll come around soon. Osip?”
Osip stood, and for once, he was taller than everyone else. He was loud and boisterous, his hands moving wildly as he spoke. “Yeah, I’m Osip. About as Russian as they come, born and raised in the underground. I picked you all up from the shuttle dock so, I’m sure you know who I am.”
Nick laughed along with the rest of them. “And Theo, you’re up.”
The object of Jane’s affection stood tall behind them. “Yeah, I’m Theo, like he said. I’m from Lancaster.” He sank back to his seat in a heartbeat.
“Thanks, Theo.”
Dasia found it strange how they all refused to talk about themselves. Aside from Jane and Osip, it had been like pulling teeth. Especially the one on the end, Mable. She wouldn’t even look up from her shoes.
“At this time, you should each have completed the cleaning process.” More than a few eyes fell to the girl, though it took Dasia a moment to realize she must have been the one screaming so much the day before.
“As a member of CPI, you will often be required to change your appearance. The cleaning process ensures an unbiased canvas, so to speak. Your appearance is of no concern during your training, but in a few weeks, for those of you that make it, your appearance will cease to be under your control. You will wear what you are required to wear, cut, dye, or shave your hair as we see fit.”
Dasia’s interest soared at the mention of such a change in appearance. She could be someone else, if only briefly. She thought that would be a much-needed reprieve from being herself.
The entire room was quiet. Nick had the complete attention of all six recruits, save for the one girl on the end who looked at the floor with crossed arms.
Something must have happened to her.
“Now, before we get into the confidential files, I want to be clear. Each of you violated some rule of society, some unbreakable law and found yourselves here. We don’t take a kid’s future away. That being said, each of you has a past and that won’t be held against you here. Whatever class you came from, whatever it is that you’ve done, it’s over now. At CPI, you are all equals.”
No one said a word, though Dasia could imagine some squirming at the prospect. Especially Jane. She wouldn’t like being the same as everyone else.
“Osip, could you come down here and give me a hand?” With a flip of his blonde waves, Osip jogged down the steps and arrived at the table. Nick handed him a stack of tablets and gave him instructions to distribute them.
“These tablets are for your personal use here at CPI. They’re coded to allow you access to certain resources you’ll need during your training and in your careers, but for now, they work pretty much like every standard tablet on the market. The main difference is the reporting system. Every swipe and search will be sent straight to my files. If you’re compromising CPI in any way, I’ll be notified.”
Osip stood in front of the first row and handed each of them a tablet. When he got to the girl on the end, she refused to acknowledge him. Osip set the tablet on the floor next to her and moved on.
Dasia pressed the only button and brought it to life, surprised when it said her name across the front screen. She’d never had a personal tablet before. In the last few years, her father had been able to afford one, but they shared it as a family.
If only Cole were there. He would sit beside her and help her get it set up, download his favorite programs, and show her some of the more interesting features.
The sadness hit her hard, unexpectedly. She set the sleek black device in her lap and focused on keeping her tears from leaving her eyes.
“Don’t worry, I’ll show you how to use it,” Jane offered sweetly, misunderstanding the onset of her emotions.
Dasia shook her head as if that would send her thoughts away. Thankfully, the others were absorbed in their tablets.
When she looked up, Nick stood with his hands in his pockets and didn’t speak for nearly a minute, his head bowed low in thought. He looked as if he were about to deliver bad news.
“From this point on, you are all property of CPI. You can never leave. You can never retire. The information shared today is classified on the highest level. You will be given every possible accommodation for your service, but at no point will you be free of this program. You are here until you die.”
They all stared in shock. They had known. Dasia had known from the moment she agreed to come that she would never leave, but it had never been put quite so harshly.
Dasia shook with nerves.
What the hell had she gotten herself into?
MABLE
CPI AUDITORIUM, NEW YORK
AUGUST 10, 2232
What idiots.
Mable was already tired of the lot of them.
They’d all done something, committed some crime. Silas or his sidekick or whoever had come to save them.
Yet here they sat all guppy-eyed and teary when they learned they would die here.
Of course they would. Everyone died here.
When Arrenstein’s boy toy offered them an hour break to set up their tablets, Mable took the opportunity to get away from them. She didn’t have the energy for such useless saps.
In a way, she almost felt bad for them. None of them had really known the degree of their commitment, or how far Arrenstein was willing to go. But she didn’t have it in her to care. Mable didn’t have enough heart left to care about anyone else.
Everyone she ever loved had been taken already.
Without waiting for the others, Mable darted for the door. Arrenstein was distracted answering a question. She bolted right past him, her name shouted behind her but she didn’t stop.
A quick trot brought her to her room where she collected her bag. She didn’t want to leave, not yet. She would ride out the storm until she knew she was in a better place to get Hadley out.
But Mable had to get away for a while.
She pulled a loose woven cap over her head and slid a thin jacket over her now ink-free arms. The sight of them brought back memories of the pain.
Physical pain. Temporary. Nothing more.
Some of the others were in the hallway as she passed, but none regarded her other than to give her space.
Getting out of the cylindrical building that housed CPI was easy. She found an unlocked door in the parking garage that led her to the outside. The grounds occupied four solid city blocks, though most was nothing more than grass. On the south side, she could see the stalks of crops and vines clung to posts. Someone put a lot of time in it, but Mable didn’t plan to stick around so long. She easily climbed the ten foot fence that surrounded the property.
The first several blocks were shiny, shimmering buildings. One of the first to get its dome, New York had replaced many of the chopped down sky scrapers with new, shorter construction. It almost looked like a city again.
Mable knew it was little more than a façade. Even the most bea
utiful places had scars. No one could find them better than her.
Repelled by the cleanliness of the streets, she sought out the hidden spaces. High rise offices gave way to crumbling structures in various states of disrepair. On the corner of one such building, she saw the first sign of the underworld. A green trident, no larger than her hand, painted onto the stone.
The symbol itself meant nothing, probably the icon for a particular group on the underground. It was the presence of the symbol that mattered. There was an access port nearby.
Mable found four more tridents as she wound her way through the back alleys and abandoned streets on the edge of the city. At last she found what she was looking for.
“Halo,” she said to the shoes, all she could see of the person hiding in the crack between buildings.
“Who goes there?” came a voice, though the shoes didn’t move.
“Mable of the Root. I need to deliver a message.”
“Long way from home, Mable girl.” A bearded face emerged from the shadow, filthy as the surface guards had to be.
There was no way the man could have known to call her that. Mable girl was a name only Ryker would use. “They’re looking for me?” she asked and the man nodded.
As soon as she said it, she knew it had to be Katherine. Disappearing mid-job with no word wouldn’t sit well. Of course Katherine would assume her absence was due to her plans with Connor.
Gross.
“Are you going to tell her I’m here?” If Katherine learned Mable had mysteriously appeared in New York within only a few days, she’d know there was someone on the surface involved. She might not immediately think sadistic government entity that kidnaps children, but she would never trust Mable again.
“Not my job to go ratting out little girls.” The man crawled from the space and stood. His clothes were worn and his skin was covered in grime, but there was something in his eyes, kindness maybe. “What’s the message?”
“That I’m alive and well, and not to worry. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Mable held her arms out the side so he could see she was uninjured. CPI was hardly the haven of safety, but she didn’t want Hadley to come looking for her.
“Who’s it for?”
“Hadley, or Rowen, of the Root.” The stranger didn’t take any notes, on paper or tablet, but he seemed confident enough.
“You’ll make sure they get it?”
“Said I would. Go on, now.” Mable didn’t appreciate his tone but she wasn’t about to piss him off. She needed him to deliver the message.
With grudging feet, she turned back to CPI, to Arrenstein and his troupe of whiners. She felt better with the hope the man would keep his word, that they would know she wasn’t in any immediate danger.
Retracing her steps back to CPI, she caught sight of it in the distance. A cylinder maybe six or seven stories high with a blacked out top floor, a hideous ugly thing.
Not three steps in the door and she heard, “What the hell Maggie?!”
Arrenstein was on her with his classic iron fist around her upper arm. She squirmed to get free but was nonetheless dragged into his office and all but thrown onto the couch.
“Hey!”
He slammed the door shut. “You can’t just leave. Ever again. You understand me?”
“The doors weren’t locked.” Mable did her best to regain her composure after such treatment.
“I thought they didn’t have to be. I thought we understood each other. This isn’t a vacation.” He looked upset, harrowed, his hand combing through his mid-length waves several times.
For the first time, Mable had managed to fluster him. Oh, how she enjoyed it. Watching him fret over her. She was the most self-capable person in a five mile radius, and here he worried when she left the building.
Arrenstein slammed his hands on the top of his desk. “Dammit, Maggie!” he screamed, despite the fact she hadn’t said anything. The sudden sound of impact unnerved her, but she maintained her fortitude.
His head dropped low, his arms tense. “It’s my job to keep you safe. I need to know that you won’t leave the premises again.”
“I won’t leave again,” she lied.
Arrenstein pushed back to standing and stared at her for a while. “Yes, you will.” He let out a pained sigh. “Look, I get it. You hate me. You hate it here. But this isn’t about whether or not you like it. We both have a job to do, and if you hadn’t skipped the briefing this afternoon, you’d know that.” He wrung his hands together several times before saying, “I promise I’ll do my best to get you out of here, but you have to play along for a while. Nick is pretty adamant about terminating you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Mable’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t just another old shoe to be thrown out.
“It means if you keep doing this, I won’t have anything to say to keep you here. You’ll be sent to Sri Lanka, or maybe Cuba if you’re lucky. I can’t go to bat for you if you never take a swing.”
Mable had never seen him look so—bad? His eyes darted around the room, refusing to look at her. His skin looked almost grey.
Maybe there was a human in there after all.
But that was impossible. Arrenstein had contributed to—if not caused—Alex’s death. There was no forgiving that.
He was just a very good actor.
“So, if I play along with all this, then you’ll let me go home?”
“I can’t promise it’ll be anytime soon. Years at the very least, but I’ll do what I can.”
Mable sighed. She could give up a few years to make sure she and Hadley could live in peace on the outside. No running, no one looking for them. Mable could buy their freedom with a few years at CPI.
“What do I have to do?” she asked, determined to get it done and be on her way.
“You have to find them. And kill them.”
“Who?”
“The bugs.”
THEO
CPI-RW2-05, NEW YORK
AUGUST 10, 2232
For the second time in two days, Theo got a new tablet. This one showed a black screen with his name in plain white letters, though a few adjustments in the settings area let him personalize every aspect.
He changed the background to a picture of a guitar. No use in hiding his love of music now, though it was too late either way. He didn’t imagine CPI would fund his hobbies.
Once in place, the home screen populated with icons and links to all sorts of applications, netsites, and programs. He was perusing them when a knock sounded at the door to his room.
“Hi, I’m Jane,” she said in a flash, her smile charming and warm.
“I remember. I’m Theo,” he said, not sure what she was doing there. Then again, she was quite attractive, her face heart-shaped with emerald-green eyes. He could think of worse friends to make.
“I hope you don’t mind me stopping by. I just wanted to make sure you were settling in okay.” Her hands were clasped behind her back as she sweetly twirled side to side.
“Yeah, I think so. Just getting the tablet set up like Nick wanted.”
“Oh sure, let me help you. Did you see the shopping apps yet?” She darted into his room as she plucked the tablet from his hands. Her eyes were on the screen as she sank to the foot of the bed, crossed her long legs, and started moving things around on the screen.
“I’m not sure how it works, but basically this app, the Closet, it has a huge database with all kinds of clothes, shoes, whatever you want. This black tee would look really great on your shoulders.”
Theo sat beside her as she maneuvered the shirt onto the holographic display. She smelled like flowers and vanilla.
“What do you think?” She looked up him with her doe eyes.
“Yeah, sure. Pick out whatever you think.” In fact, Theo had concrete ideas about what items constituted his personal style, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. At least not right now.
She smiled and returned her attention to the screen, her eyes narrow as s
he skimmed thousands of items to find him a new wardrobe. “You were a Scholar?” she asked without taking her eyes off the display. “What was your area of interest?”
“Nanotechnology,” he admitted. He didn’t really want to talk about it, terrified it would lead to questions about what brought him to CPI. Instead, he turned the conversation to her. “You’re a Gallagher?”
“Uh, yeah. Jane Gallagher. That’s me.”
Only an idiot would miss the significance. As a Kaufman, there were only a handful of families with pedigrees as impressive as his, and the Philadelphia Gallaghers were one of them.
“You’re one of the Lancaster Kaufmans?” She batted her eyes.
“Yeah. My mom, Cheryl, she’s an extragalactic astronomer. My dad’s the Lead of his Solar Astronomy department at the Lancaster Institute of Cosmic Research.”
Jane’s eyes went wide. “Oh, really? So amazing to have someone around here who understands, you know? Try talking about relays or sentient animatronics with Osip and he goes all blank and stares at my tits.”
At the mention, Theo couldn’t help but look. Like a dog to a bone, he was drawn in. The cut of her royal-blue dress accentuated her chest in exactly the right way.
Theo quite enjoyed the sight.
He couldn’t understand it. Two days ago, he had killed a boy, completely and utterly by accident, but he had done it. And now this little fox was dropped in his lap? He didn’t deserve it.
Jane looked up and noticed his line of sight.
Theo grappled for something to say.
A mild meep-meep-meep saved him. He let out a silent sigh and hurried for the door.
“Yes! Finally!” Jane’s lips curled with anticipation. Apparently she and some of the others had been waiting for this for weeks.
For Theo, it was all moving so fast.
Nick had instructed them to arrive at the seventh floor, though none had ever been there before, even Jane. As they walked to the elevator, they found the new girl Dasia. “Hey, there you are. I was looking for you,” she said to Jane.