Unequal

by B. E. Sanderson

  “Now, the game is over,” Shiraz said.

  “Rue. Help me. Make them stop.” Howard held a bloody hand out toward her. Dark crimson blossomed through a hole in his uniform. “You promised the game would be fun. This isn’t fun anymore.” His hand quivered. “Take me home.”

  She wished she could. Every tiny piece of her wanted to rush past the guns and save him. Standing in the middle of a shiny, new hospital, built especially for her skills, she felt more helpless than she felt in all the years of hiding. She could save him if they let her, but they didn’t want to. Justin handed them the scapegoat they wanted. In minutes, Winston would be dead and they would go back to whatever travesty of life they lived.

  “Do you think if you let him die everything will magically be better?” she shouted at the milling crowd and the steadfast soldiers. “If he is the man you assume he is, watching him die won’t fix anything. His death won’t stop the DOE. The ignorance allowing the DOE to exist hasn’t disappeared along with the Unequals.” Her voice shook as much as her impotent hands. “If you want to change the world, you have to stop the ignorance. You have to stop searching for someone else to think for you, damn it.”

  She pointed at Justin. “Winston dies and you turn to him. Justin will fix everything? Do you really believe that? Do you really believe anything will change if you—?”

  A gun’s barrel hammered into her stomach. As she doubled over, she saw Bruno throw a punch at the soldier who hit her and another soldier knocking him to the floor. Above it all, Shiraz stood with her hands on her hips, grinning at the mayhem like a perverse child. Justin simply leaned back against a support column and watched the game he put into motion.

  Falling to the floor, she was certain this was the way she would die. Her blood leaking across the cold, tiled floor the way Margaret Hubert’s had. And no one would be there to clean it up.

  “Stop,” her antagonist said. “Don’t hurt her. We still need her.”

  “Why?” She moaned. Bruno lay beside her, a thin line of blood trickling from his scalp. A short meter away, Winston had gone silent.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Rue lay on the floor, trying to muster something other than abject terror. Being helpless in a room full of DOE soldiers was bad enough without Justin in control.

  She eased her head to one side and stared at him. “How did you do this?” Trying to catch her breath, the words came out as a whisper. “I blamed Crispin for what my uncle turned into, but it was you. Somehow, you took an honest young man and turned him into a monster. How?”

  “Shut your mouth.” Shiraz lifted a booted foot. Rue poised for another blow, but it never came.

  “Let her speak.” She wasn’t sure who was doing the talking, but she was thankful for the respite. “Some of us want to hear what the doc has to say.”

  In her peripheral vision, other heads nodded their agreement. And Justin’s position was no longer so relaxed. He’d adopted the practiced nonchalance of someone who wants people to believe he doesn’t care when he actually does.

  “As if I give a damn what any of you want,” Shiraz said.

  The sound of weapons being cocked echoed through the room. “Someone help the doc up. And would someone else please put a gag on this girl.”

  Rue locked eyes with the soldier who might’ve lost his family in the hospital and realized he was her unlikely champion. Her lips twitched into a smile.

  “Don’t get any ideas I’m out to save you, Doc. If I don’t like what I hear, you’ll be as dead as the Equalizer over there.”

  “It doesn’t need to come to this,” Justin said in his offhand way. “Why don’t we all stand down for a moment and let our emotions settle? I’m sure there’s a logical explanation—”

  “I’m sure there is, too,” the soldier said, “but until I hear one, I’m not going to trust you either.” The grim set of his lips suggested he wasn’t about to simply listen to Justin’s arguments alone. Hope bubbled in Rue’s chest.

  Someone grasped her by the elbow and dragged her to her feet. Her abdominal ache hadn’t gone yet, but pain was better than the alternative. Someone else set a chair nearby. As she lowered herself onto it, she shot a glance toward Winston’s prone form. He was definitely unconscious, but he was breathing. Whether either was a permanent state remained to be seen. If she didn’t treat him soon, the decision would be out of her hands.

  “You have to at least let me stem the bleeding.”

  “We’ll see to him.” The soldier in charge nodded and a thickset woman stepped out of the ranks. “He’ll live long enough for us to figure this out. Or he won’t. Depends on how fast you talk and what you have to say.”

  She swallowed harder than she would’ve liked. Showing fear in this room would get her killed faster than bravado.

  “It’s not me who needs to do the talking.” She nodded toward Justin and found him several steps closer to the door. “He’s the one with the explaining to do. Too bad I don’t believe anything he says from here on out will be the truth.”

  “You’re a fine one to talk about truth. You came here in the company of the DOE’s leader.”

  Rue cocked an eyebrow. “True. I came here with the man who’s been presented to the people as a leader. I wasn’t the one who perpetuated the myth, though. As soon as he was away from you, he reverted to the state his accident left him in. If it was an accident. What happened to Howard Winston all those years ago?”

  “Why would I have the faintest inkling about it? The DOE was a horrible place to be back then.”

  “According to you, it remains a horrible place,” she said, jumping on his gaff. “Why the past tense?”

  “A simple slip.” Justin swept a hand toward her as he addressed the crowd. “She’s playing with words. How long are you going to put up with her tricks?” The soldiers didn’t give him a meter, and he turned to Rue. “Maybe it’s not your fault. Maybe you’ve been acting out of a misplaced sense of family. Hank Winston is your uncle, after all. If that’s the case, say so. I’m sure these people will make allowances. We all have families we would do anything for. Admit it, Rue, you’re doing all this to save your favorite uncle.”

  “Fine. I’ll admit I’m trying to save my family. If I’d been older, maybe I could’ve saved him back then. We’ll never know. What we do know is the DOE disappeared him fifteen years ago. Judging by the age of the scar on his head, he was injured around the same time. If the visible damage done also caused his mental disability, then how could he have been leading the DOE all these years?”

  Answer that one, asshole. She expected Justin to start backpedaling. She expected him to at least take time to come up with a plausible lie. In both cases, she was disappointed.

  “His brain was fine the last I knew. Maybe he was hurt in the basement when he killed Crispin.” His mouth dipped into an exaggerated frown.

  “Killed Crispin? What?” She tried to remember what she’d seen in the basement and what Justin had told her. She had bent over a body. It was all so confusing and jumbled she couldn’t separate the reality from the fiction Justin was creating. “I thought… You said…”

  Justin ignored her and barreled ahead. “I tried to stop Winston, but I couldn’t. He went wild. Beat Cris to death before I could lift a finger. I hit him over the head afterwards. I assumed I killed him. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t be so confused.”

  A murmur went through the crowd as if they could understand Justin’s point. Rue scrambled to think her way out of this. She could bring up the conversation where he’d implied it was him supposedly dead in the basement, but no one would believe her. The whole thing would sound as though the lie came from her instead of the real liar.

  In the end, the best way to fight him was to use the only tools she had.

  “I can prove the brain damage and the laceration happened at the same time.” She stood and walked toward Winston. This time, no one stopped her.

  “She can’t prove anything. She’s playing games again.” Shi
raz’s outburst drew growls from the men around her.

  “We’re in a hospital. I’m a doctor. One way to prove the timeframe of his injuries is to use the diagnostic equipment your leader so kindly provided.” Justin had stocked this place well. Downstairs lay a room filled with machines fully capable of scanning Winston’s brain. And if they didn’t show what she needed to see, she would resort to surgical means.

  With any luck, she could save her uncle’s life while she was in there.

  Stooping to Howard, she laid two fingers on his throat. The pulse was weak, but it was there. “I need a gurney.”

  Justin’s face paled beneath its tan. “I don’t think so. No matter what horrific events this man has put in motion, he’s been through enough without more poking and prodding.”

  “You don’t seem to believe much of anything is necessary, especially if it comes to questions about you.” She nodded to the men rolling a table up to her. “Lift him onto the table as gently as you can. You there.” She pointed to a young female soldier. “Come here and hold pressure on the wound.”

  She turned toward the leader of the soldiers and asked, “Where are the Unequals who were here?” Rue held out hope Justin hadn’t gone so far as to remove any of them to the DOE. She didn’t want to consider the fact he might’ve hurt them instead.

  “They’re downstairs, caring for the patients you already had here.”

  Nodding, she focused her attention toward the last injury on the floor—literally. “Bruno?”

  He groaned and pushed himself to a sitting position.

  “Playing possum?”

  “Keeping our options open,” he said. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Head down to the imaging equipment. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Once he’d gone, Rue asked the lead soldier, “If I show you proof using the equipment here, will it satisfy you?”

  “It will go a long way toward proving your point, but until we get the complete truth…”

  He didn’t have to explain. His meaning was clear—until someone gave him everything he wanted, he was leaning toward letting Winston die. Too bad the very people who were privy to exactly how everything went down were either incapacitated or lying.

  The soldier urged her toward the elevators ahead of him and she took advantage, jumping at the chance to be alone with her thoughts for a moment. But the person who waited by the elevators meant she wouldn’t get a moment’s peace the whole way down.

  As they approached, Shiraz pushed the button and scowled at her. “You’ll never get away from this,” she said on a hiss of breath.

  Letting a smile play along her lips, Rue replied, “Neither will you.”

  The ride provided more solitude than she could’ve expected. Thanks to the stolid silence of the soldier, who told Rue he was Citizen Captain Riley, Shiraz held her tongue. Merely a few silent moments, but the time was precious. Rue used it to review what she’d studied about the brain, how to identify injuries and assess their age.

  The more she mentally reviewed the journals she’d read, the more she hoped she remembered the correct equipment being down there. One machine would screw her whole theory by highlighting recent damage. The other would provide a more complete picture.

  At her old workplace, all the machines had been available, albeit unused and gathering a thick layer of dust she’d sneezed her way through several times a year. If what she needed was here, she wouldn’t have to worry about its cleanliness. She had to worry about using it properly. The dust on those old machines had been there for a reason, she never got the chance to use them. Today would be her first practical application.

  When the elevator opened, Rue was the first off. The ground floor looked abandoned. Her whirlwind tour never bothered to come this far. After the building’s trial by fire, there hadn’t been a reason. One of the other Unequals may have been slaving away downstairs, providing cranial imaging, but she was too busy trying to piece bodies back together to wonder about it.

  “This way,” she told the soldier. Shiraz slunk along behind them, dragging her fingers along whatever shiny surface presented itself. If they all survived this, Rue promised herself she’d make the petulant child wipe every surface clean.

  What would’ve been a lobby in any other hospital was divided into rooms, each with a specific purpose. Most were without signs, but she could tell by its shape what each machine did. Once they reached the best prospects, Rue pushed her way in.

  Bruno turned at the sound of their entry. “Found the place, eh? Do you want him up on the table flat out or do you need him a different way?”

  “On his back…” She hoped. “In the piece of machinery over there.” From what she remembered, it appeared to be a magnetic resonance imager. Thanking her lucky stars the power was already on, she went through instructions in her head from a booklet read years before. If she remembered wrong, this test wouldn’t work.

  The soldiers gently lifted her uncle onto a table attached to a large metal doughnut. A few buttons on the side were exactly what Rue needed. She touched the patient’s head briefly. Cool and clammy. Already in shock. She dismissed her fears for his well being as she closed her eyes and concentrated on how to proceed.

  “Get it over with.” Shiraz slouched against the wall. “Or don’t you believe you can prove your accusations?”

  Shutting out the rest of what she was sure was an inventive slew of sneers, Rue pushed the button and Howard slid into the center of the machine. The small group of soldiers turned their weapons toward the equipment.

  “Get those things out of here. Unless you want the giant magnet to explode.” In truth, she wasn’t sure what the damn thing would do, but having metal around magnets couldn’t be a good idea. “Metal? Magnet? Do any of you have the faintest idea what those things mean?”

  Captain Riley whispered to the others. A couple men shook their heads but eventually, he made them see reason. As a group, they walked from the room and positioned themselves outside. The barrels of their guns were visible through the glass door, ready to kill at a moment’s notice.

  Rue pressed the button to bring the machine to life. When its cacophony started, she was the one person who didn’t jump.

  “Make it stop!” the girl shouted.

  “This thing is loud. Live with it or go hang out with your friends.” She pointed toward the door. With her hands over her ears, Shiraz continued to shriek. In the end, Bruno picked the girl up and carried her from the room. Finally, Rue was alone with the noise and her patient.

  After the test was over, Rue slid Howard out and shut the machine down. If Shiraz could be turned off so easily, life would be so much better.

  As soon as the noise abated, the room filled with people once more. “And this screen here is where you’ll see your proof?” one of them asked.

  Shiraz snorted. “She won’t see anything, but she’ll sure as hell make something up to prove her point.”

  Captain Riley let out a long-suffering sigh and then motioned to one of his companions. The soldier’s hands wrapped around Shiraz’s upper arms and he lifted her. Once he plopped her into a chair, her mouth stayed closed.

  “Thank you.” A few keystrokes would pull up Winston’s scans. But Shiraz had already placed a sliver of doubt with the Captain. Anything Rue said would be taken with a grain of salt. Unless…

  “This machine… It takes pictures in slices. So once I bring this up, you’re going to see Winston’s brain, but in big oval shapes.” She paused to see if he had any questions. When he nodded for her to continue, she did. “If there’s new damage or even slight damage, the machine isn’t going to see it.”

  “I told you she couldn’t prove anything. It’s all smoke and games.”

  “If she cannot keep her mouth closed, remove her,” Riley told Shiraz’s attendant. The younger man glowered at his charge as if he’d rather do anything than be alone with her somewhere else. That seemed to shut her up, but time would tell for how long.

&
nbsp; “So, if Winston’s injuries are as new as Justin indicated, nothing will be visible.”

  “Exactly. If it’s as I believe, then we should see the damage quite clearly.” She pointed to a poster of the human brain. “Right about there, if my guess is right.”

  Tapping a few keys brought a slideshow of Winston’s brain to the monitor. The first few slices were clear but before long, Rue could see the beginnings of something. The next section confirmed her fears. The damage to Winston’s brain was so extensive she was surprised he was functioning at all. By all rights, he should be the human equivalent of broccoli.

  “My god, is all that caused by some kind of injury?”

  The more she studied the slices, the worse she felt. “Not simply some kind of injury. Years of injuries, most of which are years old.”

  Which meant Justin wasn’t the sole culprit. Someone else could also be held responsible for her uncle’s deficiencies.

  “See? It wasn’t Justin.” The guard lifted Shiraz into the air, prepared to carry her away. “You can shut me up, but you can’t prove Justin did this to him.”

  Rue shook her head. “Leave her. She can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

  “Put me down, or you’ll regret it after Justin gets a hold of you.”

  Captain Riley gave the girl a slow shake of his head. “A product of her environment, I guess.”

  “A product of the DOE and Justin combined.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “If Winston was injured before Justin touched him, Shiraz, it means Justin was well aware of the exact mental state my uncle was in and used him anyway. No one with this much damage, over so many years, could have planned anything.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  With Howard’s innocence in little doubt, the captain let Rue stabilize her patient. The bullet wound was messy but didn’t appear to have damaged any major organs. She got the bleeding under control, hung a bag of blood and hoped his vitals would recover enough for her to operate in a few hours. Until then, her uncle’s life was a waiting game.