The Unspoken: Book One in the Keres Trilogy (9 page)

Weapons triggered by a thought? The Unspoken have weapons in their nervous systems and I will be trained to use them with my mind? This doesn
’
t sound at all like the torture devices used by the five in black. They used knives and needles and poisons and who knows what else, but nothing that came out of their nervous system. I sit back in the desk chair and exhale.

“
Didn
’
t your Pedagogics teach you not to look ahead in your text books?
”

I jump in my chair. Abbot is standing feet from my desk and I never even heard the den door open or close behind him.

“
I-,
”
my voice cracks.

“
Forget it. Your impatience is a good sign. How far did you get before you skipped to the good stuff?
”

“
Just through most of the anatomy, things I already know.
”

“
You got further than I did the first day. At least you are moderately obedient. Which surprises me. I half expected you not to show up today. Suit fit you fine?
”

I actually hadn
’
t thought about the suit fitting since I first pulled it out of the black box. It glided on with ease, no pulling or discomfort. It feels like a second skin.

“
Perfectly,
”
I say.

“
They always do. Juwas never fails, remarkable since she hasn
’
t laid eyes on you, or anyone for that matter. Guess that
’
s why she
’
s on the hall and not sewing for Chelon. Come on, I want to see about your stamina.
”

He leads me to the mats at the back of the room and puts me through a series of fast paced exercises that threaten to break my limbs, if my muscles don
’
t burst into flames first. In between each weight set, squat count or crunches, he has me run full speed from one side of the room to the other, slamming into the walls when I reach them.

The lamp flickers on the desk and Abbot cheerfully barks out,
“
Lunch!
”
as he rubs his hands together with anticipation. I collapse on the mats, trying to catch my breath.
“
Not hungry?
”
Abbot asks looking down at me.

“
You go ahead,
”
I wheeze,
“
I
’
ll catch up.
”

He chuckles and tosses a towel down to me. As he walks out of my den I hear him call to another Unspoken to wait for him while he changes. I wipe my face and neck while I drag myself to the desk. It
’
s ten minutes until lunch is served in the canteen, just enough time to change back into everyday clothes. Still breathing heavily, I peel off the black suit and leave it on the floor. Back in the clothes I came in, I step out into the hall and am immediately knocked to the floor by a man racing to the elevators.

“
Oh, sorry! I forgot you were assigned 29,
”
he says,
“
You alright?
”
He reaches out and offers a hand to help me up. I pretend not to notice it and pick myself up.

“
Fine. Thanks,
”
I say stiffly.

“
I
’
m Zink,
”
he says with huge smile,
“
And you
’
re Keres of course.
”

“
Yeah,
”
I say rubbing my hip.

“
Right,
”
he says and scratches the back of his head, not sure what to say next.

I start moving toward the elevator and Zink follows. As we wait for the car to come back down, I get a good look at him in the reflection of the glossy walls. He is significantly younger than the other Unspoken I have seen so far- he would have to be in his early twenties. There are only two visible tattoos in his reflection, one just coming out of his shirt and up his neck and one around his left wrist under his Banded cuff.

“
How long have you been on the hall?
”
I ask him to break the awkward silence.

“
I just started my seventh year,
”
he says. Then this is the boy I remember, the one who looked as perplexed as I felt, the one who didn
’
t receive applause from the crowd either. And I feel closer to him immediately because of this. The elevator arrives and we step on.

“
How long did it take you to get to the back of the book?
”
I ask.

“
Oh, I really couldn
’
t say.
”

“
Well, how long did it take you to get used to talking to other Play Group members? I mean everyone on the hall so far has been so much older.
”

“
That didn
’
t take me long at all. Once I figured out we were all in the same boat so to speak, it became second nature to be at ease here.
”

“
In the same boat?
”

Zink curls his shoulders in as if he is trying to retract the words,
“
Well, I mean we are all in the same line of Service.
”

“
And what line is that?
”
I ask as the elevator comes to a stop.

“
That is something for which you are not yet ready to know,
”
he says in exactly the same tone as Abbot did yesterday. He gives me a sly smile, jumps out of the elevator and runs out of the building. I assume he
’
s going to meet his Banded partner and their Play Group. Seven years since he was assigned to the Unspoken, means that he was Banded just three years ago.

It
’
s unnerving how nice, if a little maddening, everyone on the hall is. At least, it
’
s unnerving how not intimidating they are. I almost wish they were ferocious. It would give me something to grab onto. Something I could be angry about. Something that would encourage the Heavy to push me under where I don
’
t care what happens. Instead of wanting to crawl back to my round bed and wallow, I am wishing lunch was already over so I can go back to my den and finish reading that book. Maybe that
’
s why Zink was running, he wanted to eat fast and get back on the hall.

What a change from the dread I felt this morning. My everyday clothes actually feel stiff after wearing my suit all morning. I find PG3456 already assembled on the Quad and we go into lunch. Doe tells us she has been given her first lesson in medicinal plants. Frehn spent the morning in a safety lecture and practicing emergency evacuations from the mines.
“
Turns out it
’
s not Chelon orange on our uniforms, it
’
s glow in the dark orange to make us easy to spot under a collapse or when the power goes out,
”
he says.

They all look at me once their information is spent, and I can say nothing. Not even a noncommittal grunt.

“
Well?
”
asks Harc with a note of impatience.

“
I- can
’
t-
”
I can feel the pressure from the smoke black fingers on my chest and gasp for air. Frehn whacks me on the back.

“
Don
’
t,
”
says Doe, looking not at me, but at my chest. I
’
ve neglected to fasten the top button of my shirt. When I hunched in my shoulders trying to catch my breath, the top half of my tattoo was visible. I snatch at my collar and secure the button closed. Doe
’
s eyes are wide with recognition,
“
Don
’
t ask her anymore,
”
she says in a high-pitched unnatural voice,
“
they could kill her.
”

I can hear my heartbeat in my ears and it drowns out everything else around me. I push myself away from the table, mumble something about excusing myself and start walking back to the Gratis Building. My tattoo is radiating heat but it isn
’
t pushing the air out of my lungs anymore. They could kill me? My own death hadn
’
t occurred to me; being trained to mutilate or kill others certainly crossed my mind and that was disturbing enough. I feel blindsided, tricked somehow.

Back in my den, I stand in the middle of the sitting area, hands behind my back waiting for Abbot. I don
’
t even change back into my black suit. It
’
s still in a crumpled pile on the floor. It
’
s strange that The Mothers haven
’
t been in to tidy up. They usually start in on a room as soon as you
’
ve left it.

The other Unspoken are returning from lunch now. I hear their footsteps and voices echoing in the hall. Standing in the center of the den, I clench my hands behind my back and set my feet in a wide stance. Setting my teeth, I tilt my chin in the air and wait. There
’
s a knock on my door and I call,
“
It
’
s open,
”
in the calmest voice I can muster. Abbot opens the door and steps in. He looks me up and down and shuts the door.

“
Well, let
’
s have it,
”
he says with a sigh.

“
Could you kill me?
”
This is not how I wanted to start.

“
Absolutely. But not the way you are thinking.
”

“
With this tattoo, could you kill me?
”
I nearly scream yanking down my collar.

“
No. But you could.
”

I can feel burning angry tears welling up. Of course I would cry now. Why can
’
t I ever just stay calm?