Deviants (6 page)

We’re not yet outside the building when a tall man wearing a gray suit and a silver tie steps into the hallway, about twenty feet ahead. Cal’s arm flies off my shoulders. My insides flood with terror, so I cast my eyes down and rub my ring to reinforce my emotional walls.

“Hello, Sir,” Cal says.
Why is he drawing attention to us?

We stop and the man continues forward, each step smacking the floor until his shiny black shoes are mere feet from mine—two dark harbingers of danger against the pale floor.

“Mr. Belando,” Cal says. “I enjoyed your presentation to my committee.”

The man nods. “Yes, you’ve joined the Ethics Committee.
Good lad.”

“Yes, Sir, and I’d like to introduce you to my—my girlfriend, Glory. Employee number 3-87-42-25.”

A flash of joy at hearing the word
girlfriend
is squashed by the alarm that he’s given this man my number.

Cal lifts his wrist to show off his bracelet. “We’ve just come from getting our license.”

“My goodness.” The man’s voice is unexpectedly friendly. “What a joyous occasion.”

“Glory,” Cal tugs on my sleeve. “This is Mr. Belando. He’s the VP of Compliance.”

“Junior VP of Compliance,” Mr. Belando corrects, like the junior part matters. Management is all that matters. Compliance is all that matters. The department the Comps and Auditors work for, the one that enforces the P&P.

“Don’t be shy, young lady,” Mr. Belando says. “Let me take a look at you.”

Rubbing my mother’s ring, I look up and smile. His hair is dark, except at the temples, where it’s silver and so precisely cut it looks painted on with a brush. His skin is as bright as a newborn’s, in spite of his obvious age. I’ve never been this close to anyone in Management and wonder if they all have such clear skin.

“Have you completed General Training?” he asks and I shake my head.

“She finishes GT this session and recently took the Management aptitude tests,” Cal says. I wish he’d stop drawing dangerous attention my way.

“Good for you.” Mr. Belando smiles. “Just remember that
less than 1 percent of M-Ap candidates qualify for Management training. But not to worry.” He pats my shoulder. “One way or another, I’m sure you’ll be assigned a rewarding work placement compatible with both your aptitude and Haven’s current openings.” He says this with no discernible irony and I wonder if everyone in Management believes we’re happy to do whatever job we’re assigned.

But I say, “Yes, I’m very excited.”

“Do you have a preference?” Mr. Belando checks his cuffs.

“She’d make a great Tenant Liaison,” Cal pipes in. “I think the liaison on our floor is retiring soon.”

That actually
is
exciting. Tenant Liaisons are one step down from Management and such a great job is beyond my dreams. My mood brightens. If I land the liaison job on our floor, I could be near Drake every day and, better yet, avoid the risk that the new liaison might be more diligent than our current one. Maybe dating a Jecs has perks.

“I’ll put in a good word,” Mr. Belando says, then turns and strides away before I can thank him.

I turn to Cal. “You really know that man?”

“I’ve met him.” He leans in close to my ear. “As soon as I become a Compliance Officer, the sky’s the limit for us.”

I smile but I’ve never understood that phrase. I’m well acquainted with the sky and it isn’t a spectacular limit.

CHAPTER FIVE

^I
  
WAIT UNTIL
very late to cook our rat meat on the stove I share with the other residents of our floor. Anyone could see that the amount I’m cooking is far more than I have the ration points to buy. Rat teeth and claws are the most common cause of breaches to the dome, so the punishment for not reporting rats that have escaped the farms is severe. But not as severe as starvation, and most people living up here snag extra meat now and again. There’s an unwritten rule that we don’t report each other, but I can’t be too careful. Cal has proven that I’m not the only secret-laden resident of our Pent.

Once the meat’s cooked, I return to our room and wake Drake.

“What time is it?” He stretches his arms above his head.

“Two thirty.” I set the meat on an oiled cloth to cool. “Here, eat something.” I crank the handle on our lantern so we’ll have light to eat by.

“I’m sleeping.” He turns to face the wall.

Resisting the urge to baby him—he can decide for himself—I tear off a chunk and chew the tough meat. Farmed rats live in cages, their faces pointed toward feeding trays, so it’s no wonder the resulting meat is easier to chew. Their
flesh must be as soft as my brother’s legs.

Clearly unable to resist the scent, Drake turns over and snatches one of the rats.

“Sit up, at least.” I shake my head. “You’re dripping grease on your sheets.”

Holding the meat in one hand, he shifts and pushes up with his elbow until he’s sitting. He glowers, but Drake doesn’t have to wash our sheets by hand in cold water. Grease is impossible to clean, and his sheets are spotted. I can’t get them clean the way Mom could.

In the dim light, his jaw looks like our father’s, and my insides twist. I crank the lantern to reduce the shadows.

“What are you staring at?” Drake cleans the meat off a leg bone.

“Do you ever think about Mom and—” I swallow the word
Dad
.

He tosses a picked-clean leg into our compost bucket, and then slides over on his mattress. “Why?”

“Someone got exed today.” I shake my head, wishing I’d kept my big mouth shut. Today has already been too confusing. Drake not hating our dead father still shocks me, even though three years have passed.

“Stop dwelling on Mom’s death,” he says. “It was an accident.”

I spin toward him. “Which is it, Drake?” My voice is sharper than I mean it to be. “Did he not do it, like you told Jayma, or did he do it by accident and you forgive him?”

Drake looks away. Good thing, because anger and frustration burn in my chest and behind my eyes.

“I’m just saying”—Drake’s voice is quiet and deeper than usual—“accidents happen. Sometimes people don’t know what they’re capable of. Like when my armor showed up that day. Before then, I had no idea I was a Deviant.”

“You’re not making sense, Drake.” I tear off another chunk of rat meat. “Are you saying that he’s not guilty of murder if he didn’t mean to kill her?”

“If I hurt you,” he says, “you’d forgive me, right?”

I slide over to sit beside him and wrap my arm over his shoulders. “Of course I would.” I imagine it every time his armor’s up and he swings his iron-hard arms.

He taps my hand. “That’s all I’m saying.” He brings the rat to his mouth and tears off another chunk of meat. “Time to forgive Dad,” he says between chews.

I don’t respond. Our father was an adult, not a kid, and he attacked his whole family. It’s different, but I don’t want to argue with Drake anymore. Let him cling to childhood awhile longer.

Standing, I stretch and a yawn bursts out. I’m not sure I have the energy to eat any more, so after getting Drake’s nod of approval, I wrap up the rest and stash it in our small food-storage box. There’s a place in the box for ice, but we haven’t been able to afford any since our parents died.

Without even removing my shoes, I climb onto the mattress opposite Drake and our lantern fades away to nothing. Soon Drake’s breaths slow and I know he’s asleep. My breathing slows, too, but I can’t slow my mind.

Tomorrow night I have a date, and I can’t help being curious and excited. I haven’t been to a restaurant since our
parents died and, even then, we only went once a year, alternating my birthday with Drake’s. But as much as I’d love to forget my worries during our date, I still don’t know how Cal found out about my brother and I can’t relax until I’m past that hurdle. And yet, with so many important questions swirling through my thoughts, the one that surfaces over and over is whether or not Cal will kiss me.

Will his lips be soft or hard? Will his breath have the same spicy scent as his body? My insides heat and suddenly I’m scared. I’ve never been kissed. What if it raises emotions I can’t control? I can’t bear the thought I might hurt him—or that he’ll find out what I am.

Uncomfortable in my clothes I kick off my shoes, then sit to take off my jacket. Checking my pockets, my fingers brush something I didn’t put there. I pull it out and realize it’s paper. Cal must have slipped it there during our embrace. Paper is expensive and that he used a scrap to express his feelings fills me with joyous anticipation.

I roll over and crank the lantern. Drake sighs and moves an arm over his face but doesn’t wake. The paper is folded several times and I spread it out carefully and move it into the light.

Dearest daughter
, the note reads.
I’m so sorry I haven’t been there for you and Drake, but you were safer not knowing I survived. I’ve done all I can to protect you, but Drake is in danger. Trust Burn. He will get you both to safety. Your loving father
.

I drop the paper like it’s on fire and back up against the wall. My heart thumps so quickly and loudly I’m afraid Drake
will hear, even though I know that’s ridiculous. He can’t sense my heart like I can his.

This note cannot have been written by my father. It’s impossible. But finding the paper confirms Burn wasn’t a hallucination. I’m not going mad.

Although—given the idea that my dad is alive—going mad seems a better alternative.

CHAPTER SIX

^C
AL
’
S CALLUSED FINGERS
brush the edge of my chin and nudge my gaze up to his. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” he asks on a roof I’ve never been to before. It’s nestled near the edge of the city, where the sky’s low and sharply sloped, but not too close above us.

“This is way better than a restaurant.” I roll to my side, facing him, and rest on one elbow. “How did you find this place?”

He smiles. “One of the Jecs works in Sky Maintenance. He spotted it.”

Cal leans toward me and his biceps bulge. It’s all I can do to keep my hand from reaching out to feel the hard, smooth slope of his arm, but before I can disappear into fantasy-land, I need answers.

He cuts a piece of cucumber with a sharp knife and lifts it to my mouth. It’s strange to have someone feed me, but the cucumber is the freshest, coolest, most delicious thing I’ve
ever tasted. Parting my lips I let him place the slice inside.

When I bite down, my eyes close. “So good.” The skin is crunchy, tasting as green as it looks, and there are tiny slippery seeds inside the translucent flesh. “It’s miraculous.” I’ll bet the cucumber cost a whole month’s worth of ration points. I’ve never even seen one before.

“It was picked today at the hydroponic greenhouse. One of the Jecs works there.” He shifts closer and puts a chunk of cucumber between his teeth. I can’t keep my eyes off his lips as he chews.

I glance down.
Keep your focus
. “Cal,” I say softly. “I’ve been wondering something.”

“Uh-huh?”

“How did you know about…I mean…It wasn’t Jayma who told you, was it?” I doubt she told him but I need to know.

He feeds me another slice of cucumber and smiles. “No. I didn’t need your
friend
to tell me. It was obvious.”

My stomach clenches. “Obvious? Why? What?” I snap my mouth shut to stop the stammer and then look for answers in his eyes, which are focused on my lips. Good choice. My lips don’t kill.

He bends closer until I can’t focus properly on his eyes.

His breath is hot; his lips hover over mine. “I’ve known for a couple of years, Glory. You aren’t like one of those emotional drama-queen girls, but I could see what you were hiding.”

“How?”

“You’re pretty transparent.”

“No, I’m not.” I know I’m not. Either he’s not making sense, or I’ve lost my ability to think straight. The latter grows more probable when his thumb brushes a hair off my cheek, and I feel sparks in my belly.

“You give off lots of little clues.” His thumb sweeps my cheek, near the corner of my mouth. “When I catch you looking at me, you look away, and you blush.” He pulls back a bit. “Am I wrong?”

I finally get it, and my entire body heats. “You’re not wrong.” He’s misunderstood me. Completely. “I wasn’t asking about that. About us.” I reach for his hand, moving mine close, but not quite touching. “I meant—how did you know about my brother?”

“I don’t want to think about your brother right now.” He strokes my hair.

“Did Jayma tell you about him?”

“Jayma?” He shakes his head slowly. “
She
knows about your brother?”

I bite down on my lip, wanting to swallow my question. What have I done? I shouldn’t have let my faith in Jayma slip for even a second. Now if Cal reports Drake, she could be named as an accessory to concealing a Parasite and for failure to report a serious injury—among other P&P violations. If Cal betrays me, I’ve signed my best friend’s death sentence. “How did you know about him?”

“I saw his name on a list.”

“What kind of list?”

“A database query. Unmatched, inactive employee numbers.”

I snap up to sit. Thinking Management had no record of Drake was a huge comfort. I was deluded. No one just drops out of the System. “Who has the list? What does it mean?”

Cal sits and rests his hand on my back. “Don’t panic. It’s no big deal.”

“Yes, it is.” His warm hand is comforting, but doesn’t erase my fear.

He shakes his head. “Your brother’s a Parasite because he’s injured, right? It’s not like he’s a Deviant.”

Heart racing, I nod and he continues. “I saw the list by chance on the back of some Maintenance specs at work.” His finger traces figure eights on my back. “The paper was recycled. Discarded. Don’t worry. Parasites are low priority, and if the Comps plan a raid on our floor, I’m a Jecs now. I’ll know about it well in advance. I’ll warn you. I can keep you both safe.”

“Really?” Assuming he’s sincere, he’s taking a huge risk. A huge risk for me.