Vanquished (4 page)

I stare at the letter, flipping it front to back. I grab the envelope and look in it again. There's got to be more. But the envelope is empty. Hot disappointment seeps through my bones. It spreads from my heart into each of my limbs.

I bite my lip. At least he wrote. That's all that matters. I try not to feel upset at the short note. I try and fail.

 

 

 

 

5

 

Tables line the gymnasium of our hundred-year-old school. Representatives from each of the occupational universities sit behind the tables—military, agriculture, medical, entertainment, teaching, business, government, law enforcement, and science.

A small sea of kids wanders through the gym, talking to different representatives and asking questions.

I stand back, clipboard in hand, watching the progress of the career fair. Pride surges through me as I watch successful interviews and happy faces.

“You did well.” Mrs. Sewell stands beside me, smiling.

“Thank you.” I arranged for the university reps to come, got the gymnasium set up, and worked out a schedule for students who were graduating with me this year. Each graduate is provided an education allowance that pays for their college. While the Test determines what occupation we get, we are encouraged to try for the one we want the most. This way everyone has a better chance of being happy with their lives.

Lilith's words come back to me, taunting me. What will I do if I don't get to work in government? What if I don't have aptitude for that type of work after all?

“Aren't you going to talk to the government representative?” Mrs. Sewell asks, almost as if she can hear my thoughts.

My cheeks heat up. “Actually, I asked him to have lunch with me.”

She grins. “That's the way to take initiative, Hana. Nice work.” She moves into the gym to mingle with the other students, and I step back to make sure things run smoothly.

“Can I ask you a question?” someone says.

I turn to find Graham, a fellow graduate. “Sure, what do you need?”

He glances around, biting his lip. “I really like experimenting, and I'd like to help people who are sick, but I don't know if that's science or medical.”

“Science, definitely.”

“Thanks, Hana.” He scurries away.

I sigh and lean back against the wall. Mrs. Sewell says this type of experience would be good for my work in the government, especially when it comes to putting programs together to help the Lessers. They are violent people, lazy people, and unproductive people. I can't help but think our country would be better if someone stepped in to help them, even if I haven't figured out how that might happen.

A door opens to my right, and I turn my head. Jamie slips outside.

I frown, trying to remember if I saw her talking with any of the reps. I don't want to worry, but I can't help but glance around for Easton.

He's there, talking to a rep from agriculture. I'm glad, but where is she going?

I scan the crowd, looking for other familiar faces. True to her word, Lilith stands at the entertainment table. The representative watches her raptly, and I hope Lilith isn't going to break out in song to prove her skill. I can just imagine her doing that to impress someone.

Only a handful of kids even bother with the government rep. He sighs and lets out a yawn. That doesn't surprise me, of course. Especially if everyone believes like Lilith that you need special connections to get a government job.

The door to my right clicks closed again and I turn. Easton is gone. I frown and consider going after them. What are they up to? I strain to see them out the window next to the door, but they're gone.

I want to follow them, but I can't. I'm in charge of this event. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to stay put.

We finish up career day in the gym, and after I help clean up I meet the government rep in the cafeteria. He's sitting casually at a table, some type of portfolio spread out in front of him.

“Hi, Mr. Sims,” I say, sliding into the seat across from him. “It was so nice of you to meet with me like this.”

He smiles, his white teeth sparkling in the sunlight that comes through the windows. He's only a few years older than me, and I'm more convinced than ever that I don't need any special connections for a job alongside him.

“It's a pleasure,” he says. “I like to see young people who are excited about the running of our country and who take steps to reinforce our values and systems.”

“Exactly!” I say. “I definitely want to make our country as good as it can be.”

We talk about programs that are currently in place for the Lessers, as well as allowances and spending habits in the Lesser cities. He seems excited about my ideas, and I'm definitely excited about the classes we discuss. The time flies.

“Lunch hour's up!” someone calls from the cafeteria door.

Mr. Sims stands and holds out his hand, just like the doctors did at the hospital.

I take it, reluctantly.

“It was great talking with you, Hana. I'm sure you're going to pass your Test with flying colors.”

“Thank you again, Mr. Sims,” I say with a smile.

The students shuffle out to find their classes. Jamie is ahead of me, heading into English class. I had forgotten about her absence during the career fair, and I was too busy during lunch to think about it. I want to ask her what's up as I slide into the desk beside hers, but I can't bring myself to do it. I don't have any proof that she's doing something dangerous or wrong.

After school we walk home together. Her disappearing act has played in my mind a dozen times. “Did you talk to any reps today?” I ask, trying to break the ice.

“Sure,” she says with a shrug. “I talked to someone from agriculture and someone else from business.”

“Business? That would be great!” I'm glad to hear she talked to someone besides agriculture. It shows she hasn't given up on her own dreams after all. It's not that I'm against her and Easton being together, but the thought of her getting caught doing something illegal twists my stomach in knots.
Demotion
is a scary word.

She shrugs again. “I guess so. My mom and dad said they would help me open a grocery store if I wanted to. I saw you talking to the government official at lunch. How did it go?”

Now it's my turn to shrug. “It went really well. I can't believe the Test is so close.”

She smiles. “Me, either.”

She's acting normal, not like she's done anything to break a rule—or a law. Maybe I'm being paranoid.

“I saw Lilith Winters talking to the entertainment rep,” Jamie says. “I was afraid she was going to start singing right then and there.”

“Me too!” I say. We start laughing then, just like always. “I thought for sure she would do her best to impress us all. She probably thought they'd make her Greater right off the bat.”

Jamie nods. “The hottest new thing!”

We giggle some more, and I'm convinced there's nothing wrong with Jamie. Things are fine, and nothing is going on. Everything is great.

 

 

 

 

6

 

It starts raining just as we get home from school, and it's not just a light drizzle. Thunder crackles in the sky, and the rain comes down in sheets. After Jamie goes home, Dad says he wants to go see Mom this afternoon, even though he went earlier. He wants to be with her, he says. He tells me to stay home and stay dry. I find that hard to do. The house is too quiet without anyone else there, and I still haven't got Jamie and Easton's escapade out of my mind.

I peek out my window into Jamie's room across our small alley. The houses on our street are lined up one after the other, packed in like books on a shelf. I can see straight into her room. When we were little we used to play games tossing things across to see if it would make it into the next window. Once, we tossed an egg Mom had bought at the food market. It didn't make it across, which wouldn't have been so bad except Jamie's dad was in the alley, and the egg splattered on his bald head. I don't remember playing the game much after that.

Jamie's room looks empty. The curtains are open, and I don't see anyone inside, not even her little sister. I glance to her living room windows, and they're all dark. We don't typically use lamps during the day, but it's dark because of the rain clouds, so I'd expect some lights to be on.

All of our allowances are based on a per person ratio. Each family's house has a meter, and the meters are set to allow a certain amount of electricity. Once that allowance is reached, no extra electricity will flow into the house until the next cycle at the start of a new month. The same goes for gas and water, so maybe her family is just out of their allowance.

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter. I decide to just knock on her front door. I pull on my rain jacket and boots, and slosh through the rain.

No one answers the door. Jamie just left my house a half hour ago. Where could she be? That piques my interest, and since I'm already in my coat and boots I decide to do a little spy work in the rain.

I know a covered path to the levy that I can get to across the street. It's well-worn from years of kids playing and people fishing at the river, and it's shielded by trees. I should be able to keep dry, for the most part.

Water pelts my rubber arms, and my hands start to tingle with cold by the end of the twenty minute walk. I haven't seen another person, or any sign of anyone walking in the mud. When I come out of the trees, something catches my eye. The path is beat down more than normal. Tree branches are broken, and most of the grass in the area is matted down. It looks like a wrestling match took place in the trees.

I sneak forward, hoping my brown coat will camouflage me in the tree bark. I don't see anyone. I climb a little further up the hill, my legs shivering and slipping in the cold rain. The river is on the other side of the levy, and they might be sitting on that side, though why anyone would come to the river during a rain storm is beyond me. Maybe there were a few holes in my reason for coming.

Regardless, no one is on that side, either. Jamie's probably at home, safe and dry and asleep in her living room. I can't believe I did this.

I tromp back down the levy and toward the path. Lightning flashes in the sky and I hurry toward the trees, waiting for the thunder. It doesn't come. Strange. I glance to the sky one last time, and the flashing light is still there.

Even stranger.

The odd red and white lights dance and blink. It's definitely not lightning, so what is it? It's away from the city, not toward it, and people in their homes probably won't see the lights that far away. I wouldn't have seen them either, except I'd trudged out here hoping to spy on my best friend.

The blinking finally stops. How long have I been standing there? The sky is less light then it was before, and I hope I can get home before Dad does, not to mention curfew. No one caught me yesterday when I probably could have gotten by with a warning. Tonight though, I have no legitimate excuse for being out. What are those lights in the sky, though? A creepy tingling burns all over my body, and I hurry through the trees, dodging branches and soggy falling leaves. I make it home just in time.

The light is on in Jamie's room as I strip from my dripping clothes. She glances over and waves. I wave back.

“Where were you?” I ask. We've gotten pretty good at lip reading over the years.

“Downstairs,” she says. “You?”

I shrug. “Out.”

She waves again and I finish getting undressed. She thinks I was at the hospital, which is good because I don't want her suspecting I was out looking for her. Guilt wedges its way into my head. How could I spy on my best friend?

But the guilt is replaced by a bigger worry. I can't get the flashing light out of my mind. What on earth could rise into the sky so high and blink like that, even in the pouring rain? It reminds me of stories from the Early Days, when enemy countries used their flying machines to devastate our land. What if the enemy is returning? I can't help wonder if I should report it, but to whom?

The guards are the law enforcement of our city, but we all know they don't have any real authority. They issue citations for those who break minor laws, like breaking curfew or being caught trading allowances. They report to the government officials, who take care of any more serious infractions. The government officials report directly to Frost Moon, our country's Great Supreme. I'm not sure who in that line would be appropriate to tell, not that I have any access to the Great Supreme anyway.

I pull on my pajamas and shiver. I didn't realize how cold I was.

Whatever the lights were, I hope I never have to cross them again. They give me an anxious feeling.

I cook vegetable soup for supper. Vegetables are a staple in our house, since we have a garden in our backyard. The gardens aren't required, but if you have them you get extra allowances to make up for the food allowance you don't need. Besides, Dad insists on it since he works for the agricultural university. He says he can't teach it if he's not living it. The soup's ready when Dad comes in.

“How was Mom?” I ask.

He sighs. “She looks good. She says she feels like the treatments are working. Dr. Bentford was there, and he explained that the order in which they give the nutrients affects the mutations. It was a lot to take in.”

I give Dad an awkward hug. “She's going to be OK.” I don't mention how I know it to him, but the words from her file run through my mind as if they've been imprinted in my brain:
chemotherapy: requested.

He smiles, even though his eyes tell me he doesn't mean it. “How was your afternoon?”

I give back the same expression. “Uninteresting.”