Numbers Game (4 page)

5

M
y
stepfather always complained that our unit was too small, even though it was bigger than most high-density blocks. But tonight I had to agree with him.

Konnor’s voice wafted in through the vent, angry and loud. “I’m telling you, it’s a mistake!”

“I thought so too,” Lanah said. “But the official quashed that theory pretty decidedly. Poor Treena.”

“Poor Treena? The timing of all this is just a little suspicious. Do you realize that Councilman Alden’s medical report leaked today? Everyone knows about his heart problem now, and there’s no way he’ll retain his position. I’m next in line, Lanah. Me, a councilman! And then she goes and does
this
the day before Ratings!”

“We don’t know why this happened, Konnor.” Lanah’s voice was soft.

“Yes. We do. Your daughter has managed to drag our name through the mud and ruin my career, all in one day.” He paused. “I suppose that’s what I get for marrying a rejected woman with a baby.”

Anger rose to the surface of my thoughts. Konnor was striking my mother where it hurt the most. He did that often when he was upset—sometimes with fists, other times with words. But as scary as his temper was, I knew the cold silence that followed was even worse. Those moments of cruel clarity were the true danger. Even Lanah knew better than to defend me now.

Indeed, there was no reply, and for a moment the only sound coming through the building’s old ventilation system was the tapping of the air conditioning.

He would confront me soon. I could only guess what that confrontation would mean. For a second I had a flashback, a memory of hanging over a rail, looking down on the city streets below, feeling helpless as my sweaty five-year-old hand slipped farther and farther. “
Don’t forget this feeling
,”
Konnor had said. “
If you fail our family, I expect you to find your way back here. I expect you to make the noble choice.
”

I sat in my room alone, fingering the tiny round mirror I’d borrowed from Lanah months before and never returned. Just fourteen hours ago I’d woken from a deep sleep, contemplating my future with Dresden. We were supposed to go to the academy together. He would study broadcasting, and I’d become a Rater. We’d already bought a list of professors and their grading practices from a former student—it had cost Dresden over four hundred credits.

I felt sick. Education scores, volunteer hours, khel tournaments. It all seemed so silly now. What was the point? If it didn’t matter, why had I dedicated my life to it all?

Why did it matter for everyone else but not for me?

I left the vent where I’d been listening and sat on my bed next to the pile of new purple uniforms, neatly pressed and folded. I hadn’t changed into one yet. As a child I’d fingered my mom’s dark uniforms, wondering how it would feel to be an adult, to wear a number that showed the world who I was. What was the protocol with reds in a green household? I’d never heard of it happening before. Reds didn’t live in comfortable homes with families. They ended up in work camps and distant manufacturing plants. They didn’t deserve the pills they took, the water they consumed. The physical space they occupied. Would they kidnap me in my sleep tonight and dump me in the Red District?

I picked up my mom’s hand mirror. The reflection that stared back at me seemed completely foreign. Puffy circles under the eyes, redness around the pupils, a haunted expression. Most glaring, however, were the glowing numbers burned into the forehead: 440. Bright red—as if etched in blood.

The implantation process had been nearly painless. If I hadn’t been undergoing the surgery myself, I would have been fascinated. The implant was simply a thin gray screen, so thin it was nearly transparent. It was placed under the first layer of skin. A tiny line in my skin was the only indication that any incision had been made. The line would disappear within days, they had said. If only the same could be said for the implant.

My hands itched to scratch it away, to tear at my skin until the numbers disappeared. Until I could see only myself again. But it wouldn’t work. It was connected to the techband somehow. If I messed with it, it would trigger a painful electric punishment.

The tower came into my mind again, and I pushed it away.

The sudden rapping on my door made me jump. The mirror vanished into my pocket, and I sat down again. “Come in.”

Lanah entered, her face drawn and her eyes swollen. She’d been crying too. The thought gave me a guilty bit of satisfaction. The bed sagged as she sat next to me and handed me a nutrition pill and some water. I tossed it down my throat and swallowed, ignoring the water.

“I have something for you,” she began. “It’s from your dad.”

I leaned back against the wall, arms folded. “What, he’s too good to come in and give it to me himself?”

She blinked. “No, I mean your biological dad. Jasper.” Her hand fumbled in her pocket for a moment. “He wanted you to have this on your Rating day. I don’t think even he anticipated how hard this day would be for you.”

“My dad?” I repeated dumbly and sat up. “You’ve seen him recently?”

She put a finger to her lips and whispered, “No, no. He’s in prison now. Before you were born, he showed it to me. It was a couple of weeks before . . . he left.”

“He’s in prison?”

“That’s the rumor. I don’t know for sure.”

“But . . . why? What did he do?”

“Let’s just say that Jasper was a traitor—to his family and his country.”

I sat back, stunned. I was the daughter of a convict? “Why haven’t you told me this before?”

“Konnor forbids it. He doesn’t want any connection between us and Jasper. He’d go and burn my marriage record if he could. But I thought you should know. Maybe it will help you understand what’s going on.”

“So you don’t think it’s my fault.”

“No. I don’t.” She took my hand and put something into my palm before I could pull it away. It was hard and cold. Did my con-man biological father think a gift would make up for a lifetime of pain?

I inspected it, tempted to throw it out the window. “A rock?” It was half the size of my palm, smooth and flat, the edges round.

“His favorite stone,” she said. “Your father had a special interest in geology. He drilled a hole through it so you could wear it as a necklace if you wanted.”

I gave a sarcastic chuckle. “Yeah, because I’ve always wanted a purple rock that belonged to the man who ruined my life.”

She sighed. “I wanted you to know my theory, but we don’t know anything for sure. Don’t place all your problems on his shoulders quite yet.”

I stared at her. After everything that had happened today, and after everything she’d been through, she was defending him? Before I could reply, her eyes grew misty, and she turned away.

It wasn’t right. Lanah always blamed herself for other people’s mistakes. She’d taken the heat for my stepdad—and
from
him—for as long as I could remember. But there was something stronger than guilt in her eyes this time. “You really did love Jasper.”

She sighed, wiping her eyes. “I loved him, and I thought he loved me. Obviously I was wrong.”

I couldn’t imagine leaving Dresden for anything, especially if we were married. Well, that wasn’t going to happen now. Jasper had taken Dresden from me, too.

“Ametrine—”

“Treena, Mom.”

She paused. “Jasper gave you your name, you know.”

“All the more reason to change it.”

Lanah gave a wistful smile. “Treena, my mother always said I’d know whether a guy loved me by his willingness to sacrifice—that my well-being would come before his. The man you marry will give up what he wants most for you. That’s how you’ll know.”

“Dresden is totally like that.”

She bit her lip but nodded, her eyes flickering to the stone in my hand. She reached into her pocket and retrieved a thin piece of metallic string. She looped it easily through the stone, then latched it around my throat. We looked at each other for a long moment, then she pulled me in for a hug. I went rigid, and the embrace didn’t last long. When she pulled away, her face was sad. “Jasper always said there was a time to run and a time to fight, and the trick was knowing the difference. I couldn’t face it, Treena. I ran. But you’ve always been a fighter like your dad. Maybe that’s the message you’re supposed to take from this necklace. Just know that I support you, wherever you go from here.”

She stood and kissed me on the forehead like I was five. I threw her an absent wave.

After she left, I stared at the rock in the dim lamplight. It was a deep purple, nearly the same shade as NORA’s official color. Purple was really just half blue, half red, my teachers had said. Blue for the peace we now enjoyed, and red for the blood of those who had sacrificed their lives for our comfort. Was it a message from my dad that I should submit to NORA’s will? That I should wait for them to relocate me, slink into the shadows, and accept my fate?

The thought made my stomach churn. If that was what he wanted, I’d do the opposite.

I turned off the light but stayed awake in the darkness. A plan began to form in my mind, fuzzy at first, like the tendrils of fog that gathered in the early morning, and then firm and cold, like the strange purple rock my traitorous father had insisted that I receive. The rest of my life stretched before me in the thickness of night. I lay there, watching the hours click by on my techband, waiting for sleep to bestow the slightest bit of relief.

It never came.

6

T
he
bonfire consumed my dreams, and the nightmare came again. It was hazy at first, like watching a projection through smoke, but then came into focus, burned into my mind as if with a branding iron.

I lay in bed on the verge of sleep, listening to my twin sisters’ heavy breathing. I was just drowsy enough that I didn’t hear the shouting at first. After a moment, there was a sharp crack as the door banged open.

“Vance, wake up!”

The panic in my mother’s voice shocked me fully awake. “What?”

“They’re setting the cabins on fire. Everyone’s evacuating to the shelter. Go check on the other wing, then help your father!” She strode quickly to my sisters’ beds.

Before I fully understood, I was running down the hall. My feet clapped all too loudly against the wood floor I’d helped lay one board at a time. Our entire settlement was wood. If there was really a fire . . .

A faint smoke smell reached my senses, and horror forced my body into high speed. I reached the door and pounded on it. “Fire! Get to the shelter!” The voices on the other side told me that they were already awake. Two wings, all exiting safely.

I leaped forward again, headed for the lookout platform. The air grew thicker and heavier with every step.

All of our cabins were connected underground, but NORA didn’t know that. My father was a brilliant leader. Our people would be gathering in the shelter now, where food and water storage could keep them alive for months. But we hadn’t counted on fire. Cold and hunger, yes, but not fire. Such a stupid, naïve oversight.

When I reached the loft, I could barely breathe. The smoke was so thick that I wondered if my dad was even alive, but then his figure emerged. He was nearly unrecognizable, his face black as if painted, and he held a wet piece of cloth over his nose and mouth. He handed me something—a plastic canister with a band, obviously some kind of breathing device. I slipped it on, and suddenly the air was easier to breathe, though painfully hot and dry.

“Dad,” I croaked. “We can’t fight from here. We need to get to the shelter and make a stand!”

“The men are lining up now, ready to strike. Are the women and children headed to the shelter?” His voice was crisp, hard. This wasn’t a father talking to his son but a commander barking orders.

“Yes, sir.”

“I sent Rutner to drench the northeast building in water, but that won’t hold the fire long. We need to defeat the soldiers now, or evacuate and risk capture.”

I glanced at the tree line, straining to see through the darkness and the heavy smoke. When my eyes adjusted to the black, I saw figures. Vehicles. They had us completely surrounded, and they stood around as if bored, like students with nothing to do after school. “Do they really think a fire will send us out with our hands up?”

Dad just let his shoulders slump as if I’d voiced his biggest concern. “Seems strange to me too.”

NORA soldiers had attacked twice before, but they’d seemed reluctant to kill anyone. We’d taken out two dozen of their soldiers, and all they’d gotten for their trouble was a few stunned settlers. Why they needed people so badly in that swollen mess of a country, I had no idea, but at least we knew they wanted us alive.

“This seems like the perfect time for them to attack,” Dad said as if talking to himself. “They’ve permeated our defenses, and now they’re just standing there. What are they waiting for?”

I gripped his arm. “What was that?”

“I said—”

“No, no. Listen.”

He started to protest, but a low rumble began to fill the air. It didn’t come from the earth but from the sky. Dad went rigid. An expression of utter horror spread across his face, as if he’d just seen the reaper himself. His eyes fixed upon me, and for the first time in my life, I saw fear.

My father was afraid.

“What? Is it a bomber jet?” I glanced upward and caught a flash of light from above, then another. There were more than one, and they seemed to be circling us like ravens circling death.

Dad just stared at the sky. I wanted to shake him, to force him to snap out of it and tell me what to do. He opened his mouth to speak but coughed instead. I reached up to tear the mask off my face and hand it to him.

Dad just shook his head and swatted my hand away. “Bombers,” he managed.

“But why would . . .” The answer slammed into my mind like a fist. “They don’t want to capture us anymore, do they?”

The wood groaned beneath our feet. The fire had reached the top of the platform now, climbing and snapping like a hungry dragon with ferocious claws. We only had a few minutes before the fire drove us out or the building collapsed under us. I hoped Rutner was protecting Mom and the twins. Was he ordering them to evacuate, or had they hunkered down, determined to die rather than give themselves up?

“The empress warned me this would happen” Dad said, his voice distant. “But I didn’t listen.”

“You’ve been communicating with their leader?”

“She tried to make a deal. I refused. I thought we were safe here, so far outside the borders. I thought if we defended ourselves, they’d see we weren’t worth it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

He turned to me and gripped my shoulders, and suddenly the commander was back. “Get them out. Take them to the hunting shelter in the forest. You’ll be attacked, but gather the men on the outside of the group. Hopefully a few of you can make it.”

I stared at him, letting his words sink in. “What do you mean,
you
?”

He dropped his hands. “Maybe I can draw their fire, distract them for a bit, so you can break through their line.” At the last word he broke into a fit of coughing and covered his mouth.

“It’s too late for that!” My heat-singed voice sounded hoarse. “Dad, this building will burn down—if the air teams don’t blow it up first.”

He coughed into his wet cloth, and his face constricted. “Then you’d better hurry.”

I tore the mask off, barely feeling the wall of heat slam into my face. “No, Dad. You’re their leader. You’re the first person who should be getting out of here!”

He shot me a stern look, an expression I knew well. “You have a lot to learn about leadership, son. It’s not about privilege but about sacrifice. You’re their leader now. If I can buy you a little more time, I have to try. Now go!”

He moved more quickly than I’d ever seen. One second he was standing there, and the next he grabbed the breathing mask and slammed it onto my face. I twisted away, but his strong arms shoved me off the highest level. It wasn’t a hard fall, only about ten feet, but I landed on my back. I lay there, stunned.

I stared at the man who had raised me, the man who had taught me how to fight without weapons and to lead using only words, and an angry sob tore from my throat.

“Keep them safe, Vance,” he shouted through the haze, and then my father turned back to his vigil on the platform. He pulled out his long-range rifle and glanced back at the darkened sky. Two more aircraft had joined the group, and they seemed to be gathering into some kind of formation.

With a growl, I bolted for the shelter. The only way to save Dad was to obey, quickly. Only when we broke through the enemy’s lines would he follow. It would take every weapon we had, and we’d probably lose half the settlement—but if we attacked all at once, it was possible.

Together we’d have a fighting chance.

Keep them safe . . .