First (12 page)

“Trust me, it’s completely normal here. Do you want me to show you how to use it?”

“Umm, maybe later.”

“Okay, if there’s anything you need, let me know.” He nods at the screen. “Do you see that red button? That’s how you contact me. If you push that button, it’ll ring me on my wrist monitor.” He points at the black band around his wrist. “You can contact me wherever I am, and if I’m unavailable, I’ll make sure to send someone you can trust.” Will’s eyes pierce mine, holding me there. It feels as if there’s something more to his words, like there’s a deeper meaning. Is he trying to tell me something?

“Thank you,” I whisper, finally breaking his gaze.

“Do you need any further assistance?” I shake my head. “Well, I’ll leave you to get settled and rest up. Please call me if you need anything.” He backs out of the room.

“We’ll be right outside the door, princess,” Buzzcut says gruffly from the doorway. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything.”

“Yeah,” Bullfrog cackles. “We’ll keep you safe from those rebels.”
Oh, great. Babysitters.
“Just don’t even think about going anywhere.”

“So am I a prisoner here, too? Might as well have left me at the prison,” I yell through the doorway.

He laughs. “It’s like our supervisor told your First: it’s for your own safety. Can’t let anything happen to Socrates’s newest pet.” He slams the door before I can think up some snarky comment. Jerks.

Feeling cold, I rub my hands up and down my arms. Through the walls, I hear a deep-throated chuckle followed by a low murmur of voices, and then someone laughs. After a brief pause, two sets of footsteps echo down the hall, leaving one to babysit. Who is it? Pugnose? Buzzcut?

Suddenly exhausted, I strip out of my clothes and into a pale blue tunic from the dresser. The cloth smells different, of flowers and freshness. Feeling tears sting my eyes again, I chuck the dirty, smelly clothes that remind me of the prison and curl up on my side on the bed. Tanner’s face flashes through my head. His eyes twinkling, then the pop of the Artos. The terror. I’ll never see him again. I didn’t even get to say good-bye.
What if he’s…?
A sob catches in my throat.
No, he can’t be. They wouldn’t kill him for that.

I’m awakened by a knock on the door. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pad over to answer it.

Bullfrog stands to one side of the door while Will brings in a tray of food.

“I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you a bite to eat. If you don’t want it, let me know, and I can take it away.” He sets the tray on the desk by the bed. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

I run my hand through my messy hair and then try to straighten the crinkles out of my tunic. Seriously, they should warn me before they just waltz in here so I have time to look at least somewhat presentable. I shake my head. “What time is it?”

“Just after noon.”

“Really? How long was I asleep?”

“Just a few hours.”

“Oh, well, thank you. I don’t think I need anything else.”

He nods, his lips barely betraying a hint of a smile.

“Fine,” I say, “so you woke me up, all right? I had a rough night.”

His eyes soften in sympathy. “Of course, ma’am. My apologies. After you eat, your physician, Jessiah, will come to give you an exam, if that’s all right.”

“That’s fine, Will. And please, call me Mira. All this ma’am stuff isn’t me.”

He flashes a quick smile. “Of course, Mira. As you wish.” He turns and leaves me with my food, which is rather like what we have at the farm, only the composite here has some kind of sweet, buttery sauce on it, and I’ve never had that luxury before.

After I finish eating, I contemplate messing around with the screen on the wall just as it blinks, and an older woman in pale green scrubs smiles at me from the screen, as if she hasn’t a care in the world, like the ground hasn’t just been pulled out from under her. I swallow and take a deep breath before switching my attention to the video screen. A petite woman, about the same age as my mom, smiles back at me, faint lines framing her eyes and threads of gray shining in her thick black hair.

“Hello Mira. My name is Jessiah Matthews, and we have you scheduled for a physical this afternoon.”

“Now?”

“Well, yes. We like to get you checked out as quickly as possible after your arrival at the Smith. Does right now work for you?”

“I guess so.” As if I have any say in the matter, anyway.

“Excellent, I’ll be down to get you shortly.” When she comes to collect me, I realize Jessiah is just as pleasant in person as she is on the com unit. She smiles a lot and promises, “This won’t hurt a bit.”
Yeah, I think I’ve heard that before.

She leads me through a set of double doors marked Infirmary, past a small, comfortable-looking waiting room, to a small sterile room with a padded examination table in the center. A chair sits right next to it, along with a scrubbed-clean counter with drawers that I’m sure hold a bunch of really painful medical instruments. “Please take off your clothes, and put this on.” She hands me a paper-thin white gown with ties in the back, then leaves me alone.

I change quickly and just have time to fold my clothes, put them on the floor, and hop up on the table before there’s a soft knock on the door. Jessiah enters, slipping her tablet into one of the big pockets on her jacket. “Welcome to the Smith, Mira. I’ll be performing your exam.” She pats me on the knee. “This is standard for Seconds, so you don’t have anything to worry about. We’ll just check you over, then do blood and DNA tests.”

“What’s the DNA test for?”

She shrugs. “It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just to check your lineage for any genetic abnormalities.”

“My lineage? What does that mean?”

“It’s to make sure you’re Mira of Chesaning Farms, of course, and not a plant by the Lifers.”

“That’s stupid. Why would I be here if I wasn’t myself?”

She lifts her slender shoulders, then drops them. “You never know. Maybe to disrupt the Release ceremony, kill Socrates, bomb the Smith, who knows? It’s been tried before. Besides, it’s nothing personal, just a precautionary measure. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

From one of the large, deep pockets on her jacket, she pulls a small, handheld scanner. “Hand me your right index finger.” She extends her hand. When I hesitate, she wiggles her fingers impatiently. “Come now, Mira, it’s just a simple DNA test. It’ll only take a fraction of a second.”

When I finally place my hand in hers, she efficiently jams my finger in the device. It clicks, and I try to remove my finger, but it’s stuck. Then there’s a stinging pain which makes me hiss, and Jessiah smiles. “There, all done. See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Her bland smile is meant to make me feel better, but I just sit there, swinging my legs off the side of the table, watching the blinking lights on the little machine flash between red and green. Glancing up at Jessiah, I see that she’s watching it, too. Eventually, the little machine slows down. It spends more time on red then green, and I catch my breath.
What if I fail? How is that even possible? Red must be bad, right?

I close my eyes until there is a high-pitched beep. When I finally look, I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s green. “Good,” is all she says. She sets that device on the counter, and then from a drawer underneath, she pulls another device, small and black with two long thin things coming off the top, kind of like the antennae on a bug.

“What’s that?” I bite my lip, folding my hands in my lap in front of me. My pointer finger still stings.

“Just another scanner. This one looks at all your internal organs and joints to make sure everything is functioning within an acceptable range.”

“Will it hurt?” I eye the machine skeptically.

She shakes her head. “No, you won’t feel a thing.” And I don’t. She scans every part of my body she can reach, then has me stand up and turn around so she can scan the other half. When she’s done, she sets that on the counter as well. “There, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

“No, I guess not.” I boost myself back up onto the table. “What’s next?”

“Your vaccination, of course. I’ll be right back.” After patting me on my knee, she leaves and returns after a couple of minutes with what looks like a tiny silver gun. The tip is pink rubber, and in the middle, I can see the tip of a sharp needle. “You won’t even feel a thing.”

“That’s what you said about the DNA thingy.” I pull my arm away as she lifts the device toward me.

She chuckles and presses the gun to my upper arm and pulls the trigger. There’s a cooling sensation, then heat, then a tingly feeling. Then, nothing. She pulls the gun away and presses a cotton pad to the site. “There, now you’re really all finished.”

She pats me again on the knee and tosses the cotton pad into a hole in the wall. “You’re all set, so why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll have someone take you back to your room.”

I hop off the table as she reaches the door. “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure I can find my own way.”

“Nonsense.” She pauses. “I’ll be right back.”

By the time I finish dressing, she knocks again. “I have one of your guards out here waiting for you whenever you’re ready.”

“Where’s Will?”

“Who?”

“The guy… I mean my servant.”

She shrugs, as if she doesn’t care. “I don’t know, probably off on his other duties.” She opens the door and leads me out, to the waiting room where Bullfrog leans back in his chair, legs spread out, hands folded on his stomach like he’s about to take a nap.

“It’s about time, princess,” he grumbles, slowly stretching and getting to his feet. Jessiah frowns at him. “Is she good to go?” he asks her.

“Yes, she’s done here.”

He nods. “Good. Let’s go.”

I follow him back to my room, where I start pacing.
What should I do now?
I hate being cooped up. If I were at the farm, I’d have my chores, or be watching Max, maybe taking him swimming in the stream or just relaxing with Tanner. I stop, my thoughts going back to Tanner and Mr. Flannigan. The walls start closing in on me. What at first felt beautiful and opulent now feels more like the box where I was punished for sitting with my little brother, whose only crime was watching the news.
I have to get out of this room.
I glance at the red button Will told me to push if I needed anything. Does this count?

Making up my mind, I press the button. The screen immediately changes, and Will’s face fills it. He smiles pleasantly and maybe a little bit surprised. “Good afternoon, Mira. How may I help you?”

“I-I’m sorry to bother you, but is there anywhere I can go to get out of here for a little bit? I’m not used to being inside this much.” I twist my hands behind me, feeling the sweat slick my palms. I definitely have to get out of here.

He narrows his eyes at me. “You can’t leave the Smith, you know.”

I shake my head. “Oh, I know that. I just want to get out, go somewhere, maybe somewhere outdoors. Is that possible?”

Will pauses, then his face lights up. “I’m sure the gardens can be made available to you if you wish. Would you like me to take you there? If not, I’m sure your guard can escort you.”

I gulp, replaying the image of Buzzcut leering at me, calling me princess, implying that Tanner had been beaten. No, I’d rather stay in my room than go anywhere with that monster. “Can you take me? If you don’t mind, and you’re not busy, that is.”

“Of course. When would you like to go?”

“Oh, whenever.” I take a deep, centering breath. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Okay, just give me a few minutes to make the arrangements, and I’ll come by to pick you up.” I nod, and he leans forward. He must push a button similar to mine because the screen goes blank.

After a couple of minutes, I hear a quiet knock on the door. When I answer it, Will stands in the harsh light of the hall, wearing his customary blue servant’s uniform. He smiles, his teeth white against his bronze skin. “Are you ready?”

I nod. Outside the room, we stop in front of Bullfrog, who grudgingly rises from a chair next to my door and scowls.
Or maybe that’s his happy face.
“The Second’s supposed to stay in her room.”

Will inclines his head toward the guard. “I understand that, but Mira is not a prisoner here. Your duty is merely to provide for her safety, not her confinement.”

“My boss ain’t going to like this.”

“My apologies, sir. But my orders are to see to the comfort of the Second to whom I’m assigned.”

Bullfrog puffs up his chest and glowers at him.

Will shrugs. “You are, of course, welcome to accompany us to the garden if you wish.”

He grimaces. “You’ll bring her right back?”

“Of course.” Will nods. “You have my word.”

“Good.” Bullfrog settles himself in the chair again, stretches out his legs, and closes his eyes.

Walking down the hall, Will starts in on the tour guide routine again. “Like I said before, this was the Smithsonian Institution, a world-renowned collection of museums, but by the time of the Immigration War, many of the buildings were in disrepair and unused, due in part to people’s reliance on Firsts to hold much of history’s memories. Computers mostly took care of the art, with high resolution and more accessibility to common people. I’m sure even you were able to see pictures of some of the art that was housed here.”

Even me?
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sorry?”

“We do go to school, you know. I’m not a complete idiot.”

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. Is Socrates coming here, too?”

“Of course. He’ll be here later today.”

We reach the end of the long tunnel and come to a plain metal door. “The gardens were an original feature of the Smithsonian called the Enid A. Haupt Garden. They’re located centrally to most of the rest of the buildings, except this one. We’ll take another elevator to the main entrance.” Will scans his wrist, and the door opens.

I follow him into the elevator.

When the doors open, I see a small ivory antechamber with dark green padded benches on both sides. A bronze plaque with the engraving, “Enid A. Haupt Garden” crowns the pressure-locked doorway.