Compliance (31 page)

“I support Deviant rights too.” He leans forward onto his knees. “My younger brother—he was a great kid, wouldn’t hurt a fly—but the second his Deviance emerged, the bastards exed him. I was a rookie Comp at the time. To test my loyalty, they made me watch as those monsters tore my little brother apart.” His voice shakes. He slams a fist on the floor. “That day, I swore I’d do whatever it took to keep others from being killed just because they’re different.”

“But you’re still a Comp.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to change things from the inside.”

I nod. That’s what Mrs. Kalin claims to be doing too. If I believe her.

“Some days,” Larsson continues, “I do feel like a hypocrite as a Comp, but at least in COT I’m not the one doing the killing. Plus, when I get wind that the Comps are going after a Deviant, I let Sahid know and he tries to get to them first and hide them.”

“So you are a rebel.”

“I guess so. Kind of.”

“Can you stop them from bombing the Hub today?”

He shakes his head.

I leap to my feet. “But you need to do something. I can’t stop it from in here, and I won’t be able to do anything once they ex me.” My voice shakes and sadness slams into me.

I turn away from Larsson so he can’t see my despair.

He touches my shoulder. “You won’t be exed. I’m not sure
how you’ve done it, but you’ve got friends in high places.”

“What do you mean?”

“The President himself is pushing to have you transferred from here to the Hospital.” He tips his head. “How do you know the President?”

“I don’t.” My moment of relief is replaced by dread. Why in the world would the President be intervening? “Why the Hospital?” Am I going to be a subject for one of Mrs. Kalin’s experiments? My insides twist, but I fight to stay strong.

Larsson looks over at the door. “The President’s in the Detention Manager’s office right now, expediting your transfer. Compliance is in a bit of a shambles with Belando’s death coming so soon after Mr. Singh’s.”

“I still can’t believe someone killed him.”

Larsson spins toward me. “It really wasn’t you?” His eyes narrow.

“It wasn’t me.”

“You don’t need to lie. Not to me.” Skepticism paints his face. “I saw the tape, and Zina told the rebels about your mission. Apparently your orders came straight from your army commander.”

I fight to control my breathing, my heart rate. I can’t stand being accused of a murder I didn’t commit. “Do you know what Zina can do?” I ask. “Do you know how her Deviance works?”

He shakes his head.

“That was
her
on the tape. Not me. She can impersonate people. She alters her appearance. She pretended to be me
when she poisoned the food. She sabotaged that scaffolding too.”

He leans back and his brow furrows. “Why would she frame you?”

“It’s not about me. It’s about my dad and Burn. I don’t believe the orders she gave me came from the FA.”

Larsson’s quiet for a few minutes. He rubs his chin and says, “Too bad Cal got caught up in all this.”

“Cal?”

“They’ve arrested him.”

Panic grabs at my chest. “Why?”

“The alibi he gave you was blown. Stacy claims she talked to him in the rec room last night at the same time he claimed to be with you.”

My heart rises in my throat and fists form at my sides. “I could kill her.”

“Watch what you say.” He looks up at the camera.

I grab his arm. “Did you lie? Is the camera on?” Has this whole conversation been a trick to get me to confess?

He shakes his head. “Sorry. Just habit.”

I lean in closer. “Stacy hates me. She came forward to hurt me, but she might recant her story if she thinks it will help Cal. Talk to her. Please?”

A guard knocks on the door.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Larsson shoots me a grim smile before leaving my cell. “Good luck.”

As soon as he leaves, the lights in my cell go out.

A light shines in my eyes. I wake with a start and scramble to my feet, backing into the corner of the cell.

“Calm down,” a male voice says. “If you cooperate, I won’t hurt you.”

“Who are you?” I ask. “What are you doing?” His light’s directly in my eyes so I can’t use my Deviance, but as soon as this man lays a hand on me, I’ll use my combat skills to take him down. Then I’ll escape.

“Grab her,” another voice says, and the light drops from my eyes. I lunge at the legs of the man holding the torch and knock him off balance.

We land on the floor, but before I can leap up, a boot lands square on my back, pushing the air from my lungs. Another set of hands restrain my legs, and prone, I struggle to grab onto something, anything. A boot lands on my outstretched arm. The other’s squished under me.

A sharp pain pinches my neck. “Done,” one of the men says. “She won’t give you any more trouble.”

The pressure of their bodies lifts and I try to fight back, but my muscles won’t move. No matter how hard I try, nothing happens. The room fades to black.

I
WAKE UP
in darkness and try to sit, but something’s holding my limbs, and there’s pressure on my forehead. I’m strapped down.

“Where am I?” I shout, but my voice comes out hoarse and echoes in the space. “Help,” I shout again, and lights snap on, blinding me. I hear a door, then heels clicking over a hard surface.

“You’re awake,” a voice says.

“Mrs. Kalin?” My mind is fogged. The light’s bright, and my eyes sting behind closed eyelids.

A warm hand lands on my arm. I can’t open my eyes, but I know it’s her. A motor starts and my body tilts until I’m raised to a forty-five degree angle. My eyes open a slit, I blink, and Mrs. Kalin comes into focus, wearing a white coat over her usual gray slacks and sweater.

“Where am I?” I ask, even though I’m fairly certain I’m somewhere in the Hospital. My mouth feels as if I’ve swallowed a bucketful of dust.

“You’re safe.” She looks at me with kindness in her eyes and I feel better.

“Why am I here?” I ask. “Why am I strapped down?”

“I brought you here so we could talk.” Her eyes flash kindness and I can’t believe I stopped trusting her. She cares about me.

“Why did you poison that food?” She rests her hand on the strap on my forehead. “What was your strategy in going after Belando?”

I don’t answer. I have no idea what she wants to hear, and I want to please her. My head’s still spinning, likely from the aftereffects of the drug.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’m not angry with you, sweetie. I’m just not certain of your motives. Belando was easily controlled.”

My stomach tightens. What does she mean? What answer will please her?

I look directly into her eyes. If I really can listen in on people’s thoughts, maybe I can figure out what she wants. Gathering my Deviance, I lock onto her mind, but it doesn’t feel safe, it doesn’t feel controlled. I might hurt her.

This girl is stronger than I thought
, I hear in her mind. But I also feel my ability squeezing, tightening like a belt around her brain.

Mrs. Kalin’s hands fly to her temples and I break eye
contact, releasing my hold. “Are you okay?” My chest tightens.

“Just a headache.” She blinks a few times, then narrows her eyes, looking at me askance. “Nothing to worry about.”

I shift on the tilted table. “Can you take these off? The straps are digging into my wrists.”

“Certainly.” She smiles and steps behind the table. “As long as you tell me why you poisoned that food. What was Mr. Belando up to?”

My trust wavers. “Are you gathering evidence for the Comps?”

From behind me, she rests her hand on my shoulder. “I swear I will not repeat a word of what you tell me—to anyone.”

I glance around the sterile white and stainless-steel room—the parts I can see from the table.

“There are no cameras in here,” she says.

I can’t move my head. She rounds the table and looks directly at me. I lock on again, focusing on her mind.

Synapses snap—hers and mine. Something is wrong. Something’s strange.

You trust me
, she thinks.
You love me. You’ll do anything I ask.

My entire body tenses, every nerve fires at once, and I struggle not to show my emotions. I struggle not to hurt her as I realize why I’ve found it so easy to trust Mrs. Kalin, why I only trust her when I look into her eyes.

Mrs. Kalin is a Deviant.

And like me, she activates her Deviance with her eyes.

But she doesn’t hear thoughts—at least, I hope she doesn’t. No. Mrs. Kalin’s Deviance is more chilling. Mrs. Kalin plants thoughts.

No wonder Cal was so easily placated after Scout’s accident. No wonder she convinced us that the experiments in the Hospital are humane. No wonder she got me to trust her.

I draw long breaths to calm myself, to focus, to keep control. I sense her in my mind, and her influence casts a strange veil that doesn’t replace reality, just alters it. I fight to hold on to that awareness and how it feels when she’s there.

As long as I’m conscious of what she’s doing, I should be able to isolate my real thoughts. But still foggy from the drug, I’m not sure I can.

My body tenses. “I trust you.” I repeat the thoughts she’s planting. “You love me and want nothing but the best for me.”

“That’s right.” She undoes the strap on one of my wrists.

“Mr. Belando was a threat,” I say. As long as I can mislead her, I know I’m still in control. “Mr. Belando wasn’t like you. He didn’t understand that changes need to be made inside Haven. He refused to understand.”

A smile spreads on Mrs. Kalin’s lips like she just ate the most delicious dish in the world. She releases my other wrist, then bends down to kiss my forehead lightly. “I knew I was right to make you my protégé.”

“Protégé?” Our eye connection is broken. I want to listen to her thoughts again, but increasing our connection is a two-way street. I have to limit eye contact or she might gain the upper hand.

She bends to release my ankles and then the straps across my chest and hips. I step off the table and rub my legs.

“Glory,” she says, “it’s time for me to be completely honest with you, and for you to be completely honest with me.” She takes my hand. “I know what you are. You’re Chosen, like me.”

“Chosen?” Her use of the word that the settlers use for Deviants fills me with hope. If she’s like me, a fellow Deviant, should I trust her? Does she know there’s a better life Outside? Does she know about the Settlement, the FA?

“Yes. Chosen,” she says. “You and I, our minds have evolved, adapted. That makes us better than most people, capable of doing things Normals can’t.”

“Deviants.”

“No.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Not like Deviants. Deviants’ bodies have changed in crude ways. With them, the transformation is physical, not intellectual. Deviants are aberrations of nature and humanity—mistakes of nature.” She squeezes my arm. “But they aren’t without their use. In fact, Deviants are playing an important role in helping me discover the key to harnessing the power of the dust.” She looks directly into my eyes. “Remember, because this is important. Deviants are not like us. They’re inferior.”

“Deviants are inferior.” The words come out of my mouth without my thinking, and I blink, suddenly dizzy, sick to my stomach. I’ve let her into my mind. But as long as I can recognize when she’s planting thoughts, I might be able to fight her. “Chosen people use their minds, not their bodies.”

“Exactly.” Her grin reappears. “And with you by my side, we can save humanity. We can find a way to live Outside in the dust.”

I make eye contact again but she turns away, and I suspect she knows she can’t influence my thoughts quite as easily as she can other people’s. I must keep straight which thoughts are mine and which are hers.

“If you’re going to be my protégé, my daughter,”—she tucks my hair behind my ear—“I need to be sure I can trust you.”

“You can.” I focus on her eyebrows, conflicted between wanting to use my Deviance to hear her thoughts and risking her influencing mine.

She shakes her head, cocking up one side of her mouth. “I know my abilities don’t work well on you.”

My breath catches, but I try to cover. “What do you mean?”

“Glory,” she shakes her head. “You are a very talented girl, but I need to be certain you’re on my side. I need to be sure you won’t betray me. To that end, I need to see a firsthand demonstration of what you can do.”

“What I can do?” I still haven’t admitted to my Deviance. I need to tread carefully.

She tips her head to the side. “I saw Mr. Belando’s surveillance footage of you killing rats with your eyes.”

My body tenses.

“You don’t think it was a coincidence you were placed in Comp training, do you?”

Panic rises like bubbles in my chest. “No, but…” Mr. Belando’s explanation never completely made sense to me.

“I told Mr. Belando to keep an eye out for people like you.” She rolls her eyes. “Belando was an easily manipulated asset. He forwarded directly to me all observations of employees who might be using their minds in extraordinary ways, and he cancelled all Compliance audits of employees showing signs of being Chosen.” She puts her hand on my shoulder. “The other candidates he found proved disappointing, but I’ve had my eyes on you for some time.”