Renegade (2 page)

The blue glimmers under the lights like tiny diamonds floating on the glasslike surface. Unlike in Sector Four—the Agricultural Sector—this water is fresh instead of reclaimed, and pumped directly from the desalination tanks. It’s filled with lily pads and other water flowers.

I follow him. He points to a bluish flower with oval-shaped petals resting on top. “Will you tell me what this one is again?”

I smile. He always knows how to make me feel better. “It’s an Egyptian Lily. We use it in many of our medicines. It is used as a sedative, but it is also an aphrodisiac.”

The rose slips from my fingers.

*   *   *

Today is Request Day. I have many responsibilities as Daughter of the People, but this is my favorite one. It’s also the most important of my many duties. It shows Mother trusts me. I am the Citizens’ voice, and they look up to me to make sure they have everything they need and want.

Elysium is a family, and it’s important that the heads of that family listen to its members, so that all may be happy.

Mother allows me to host the requests wherever I like, but I prefer to use what I’ve called the Request Room. It’s fairly large with one wall-sized window in the back, and pink marble walls and ceiling. In the front are two doors. One is the door Citizens will enter from. The other is where they exit, unless they need to see Mother. In that case, they’ll use the door to the left of my chair—which is in the center of the room—to take them to Mother’s receiving room.

I settle myself into the chair, crossing my legs at the ankle, like Mother has taught me, before straightening my favorite silk skirt so it covers my knees. It’s a little short, but the blue brings out the color of my eyes, and Mother usually lets me get away with it.

I glance at the Citizens standing behind the velvet ropes before nodding to one of the two Guards next to me that I am ready to start. The line is short today, thank Mother. As much as I enjoy my duties, it can get quite overwhelming.

The first Citizen who steps forward is slightly older than my own sixteen years. He twists his hands together as he walks toward me, and there’s a slight shake to his legs when he kneels in front of me and bows his head.

When he only continues to kneel without looking up, I realize this is his first time here and he is nervous.

“Speak, Citizen. What is your request?”

He glances up, and while his hands still shake, his eyes aren’t as wide as they were before. “I wish to request a Coupling License, Miss Evelyn.”

My smile grows. This is why Request Day is my favorite. “And who is the lucky girl?”

He waves a hand and a girl my age rushes to his side. She’s careful not to touch him, but kneels next to him and bows her head. “I’m Alice, Miss Evelyn.”

I signal for the Guard to get me my Slate. “What is your current designation?”

“Child-care worker.”

I take the Slate from the Guard and place my hand over the glass screen, waiting for the computer to read my print and boot to the main screen. “So you’ve already been approved for breeding?”

“Yes, Miss Evelyn,” she says, and then places her hand on the screen when I hold it out to her.

I take a few minutes to study her file and nod approvingly at what I read. She is an excellent candidate for breeding.

After verifying the man’s file, I approve them for coupling on a contingency basis, pending genetic testing, and send them to the Medical Sector. They have two weeks from today to complete the necessary testing before they’ll have to report to Mother—she has the final say on whether or not they’ll couple.

I can see they’re nervous, but from what I can tell from their records, they don’t need to worry. Mother should happily grant them their final approval.

The next few people pass through without incident, asking for the typical things: a request for Mother to visit a newborn child for her blessing. A larger stipend and quarters for the soon-to-be parents of twins. I make a note in Mother’s calendar to set up a celebration for when the children will be born. Twins are such a rare occurrence, I’m sure she’ll want to do something. There’s even a sweet request from the parents of a little girl who wants to see my gardens.

All will have to be approved by Mother, but I have no doubts she’ll approve. Especially the request from the little girl. Mother enjoys my humanitarian efforts.

But my mouth is dry from all the talking. I would really like to have a drink, but I still have Citizens to attend to. I know if I ask my Guard to get a drink for me, he’ll go, but it’s not exactly his job to get me a drink and it doesn’t feel right to ask him. I’ll just wait until I’m done.

When the sixth person in line approaches me, I smile and ask him what his request is. His hands tremble, but he bows his head and says in a shaky whisper, “I want to know what happened to my wife.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, sure I didn’t hear him correctly.

“I want to know what happened to my wife.” He looks up with bloodshot eyes. “She wasn’t home when I got back from working yesterday. I’ve looked for her everywhere.”

“Name?” I ask, my hand hovering over my slate.

“Renee Davis.”

I skim the Citizen Roster, confused. “Can you spell that for me?” I ask. He does, but my Slate still shows no one by that name. I purse my lips as he continues to watch me with pain and hope mingling in his eyes. “I can’t seem to locate anyone by that name,” I say.

From the corner of my eye, I see an Enforcer step out of the shadows, and I have to stop the shudder that threatens every time I see one. Like all Enforcers, she’s wearing the customary black dress with pleated skirt that stops just above her knee. The tops of her black boots are hidden underneath the skirt. Her black gloves go all the way to the middle of her biceps and she’s wearing a hooded cape that covers all other exposed areas of skin. I’ve always found it strange that Enforcers would wear dresses, but Mother believes that no matter their duties, ladies should dress like ladies.

The Enforcer pushes her hood back, revealing the blank face they’ve all perfected. She’s the one known as Veronica. All Enforcers make me nervous, but this one is the worst of them all.

I tense, my heart beating faster. I find myself wanting to run as far away from her as I can. And it’s not just me. The handful of Citizens still in line have stopped talking and fidgeting. They hold their collective breath and step farther away from me. It’s as silent as a tomb now.

However, the moment passes and the Enforcer makes no other move, staying silent and vigilant just this side of the shadows. The icy tension in the room will just have to be dealt with. The Citizens look to me as an example of how to behave, so I must swallow my unease. I take a deep, calming breath and force a smile.

“As I was saying”—I shoot one more glance at the Enforcer—“place your hand on my Slate. Perhaps there was some sort of bookkeeping mistake.”

He drags his gaze from the Enforcer, then nods and places his hand on the glass. When it beeps, I look at the information and frown. His file states that he is Single, never been Coupled. There had been a Courting Application filed late last year, but the woman in question, a Renee Davis, had died from unknown causes during the testing process. It’s a pity Mother’s genetic matching program still can’t prevent such anomalies from happening. This Renee was clearly too weak for breeding.

My heart breaks when I realize what’s happening. I wish Mother was here to help me, but she is not. I decide to break the news to him gently.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, “but, according to her file, she died last year. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Feet shuffle behind the man and someone coughs as the man stares at me with a confused expression. The Citizens mutter among themselves and a few have angry expressions. How inappropriate, I think. This is not his fault; his broken heart is confusing his mind.

“I will have order!” I say, and immediately the room quiets again. The angry ones glance toward the Enforcer before lowering their gazes to the floor.

“That’s not true,” the man in front of me says, so softly I almost can’t hear him. “She was with me yesterday morning. We had breakfast in the Square. As we do every morning.”

“I’m sorry, Citizen.”

He looks up at me again, his eyes flashing with anger. “She’s not dead. Your Slate is wrong.”

The Enforcer advances, and the room becomes quiet again as chills race up and down my spine.

“Mother handles the death certificates—”

“Then Mother is wrong!” the man says, and steps forward, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Hold your tongue, Citizen!” I shout, but immediately I regret it. The Daughter of the People must never lose her calm.

The Enforcer is watching me closely, obviously waiting to see how I handle the situation, and I can’t help but feel I’m not measuring up to whatever she expects from me. And that she’s delighting in that fact. That makes me more nervous than I want to admit, and I swallow the lump in my throat.

I gesture for the man to step closer. “You will have to speak with Mother, then, if that is what you believe.” The Guard moves toward the man, but the Enforcer beats him to it.

When she steps closer, unlike the respectful Citizens, she first meets my eyes before bowing her head. There is no life in those cold blue eyes, or in the unmoving set of her mouth.

“I’ll escort him, Miss. Your Guard is needed here, with you.” Her voice is quiet and breathy, and shouldn’t be any more frightening than the ladybugs in my garden, but it makes my skin crawl. I nod and she grabs the man.

“No,” he whispers, and there is a strange understanding in his eyes, but he doesn’t fight as the young Enforcer pulls him toward the door on my right, then disappears with him.

I glance around, trying to determine if another Enforcer has replaced the one that just left, but it’s useless. I’ll never be able to see her.

The room remains quiet as I rub my arms to remove the chill from my skin. I’ll have to ask Mother later what happened. The Guard next to me leans down. “Are you all right, Miss Evelyn?”

“Yes, I…” I straighten my shoulders and force my hands to rest in my lap. “I’m quite well. Bring me a soy chai latte.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He turns and is halfway to the door before I remember to say, “Iced.”

“Yes, Miss.”

I focus on the next person in line. “Next?”

*   *   *

Mother and I sip our afternoon tea in her sitting room. We enjoy having tea together. It is really the only time we have to recount our days to each other and just talk. Just us girls. I smile when I see she’s using my favorite tea set: the gold-rimmed china with the large English tea roses on the side. Flowers from my gardens sit on the table between us.

Today, only two Maids are in the room with us, waiting patiently to serve us whatever our hearts desire. Two Guards stand by the door, but they aren’t the same ones that were in the gardens earlier. It is unusual for me not to have the same Guards. I may not know their names, but it is slightly disturbing not to recognize a familiar face. My life revolves around familiarity.

Mother sits across from me, her attention completely focused on her tea. Her wheat blond hair gleams in the light of the overhead crystal chandelier. It amazes me, as it always does, how beautiful she is.
She is the epitome of excellent culture and breeding. What every lady should strive to be.
What
I
strive to be.

Today she wears a bloodred dress suit that enhances her small curvy body, but not enough to tempt the men around her.
A lady should be like a flower under glass, beautiful yet untouchable.

It’s quiet. Pleasantly so, and I stare over her shoulder to the window behind her. The outside lights make the water a gorgeous blue and a school of colorful fish swims by. Very faintly I can hear the low moaning of a whale.

“Evelyn,” Mother says, tapping her nails on the tabletop to draw my attention back to her. I love the pink marble of the table. It reminds me of my roses.

“Yes, Mother?” I say.

“Do you have your speech prepared for Festival?”

“Yes, Mother. I submitted it to your assistant this morning for your approval.”

She nods and takes another sip of her tea as I spin the metal disc in my hand.

“Mother?”

She looks over at me and lifts an eyebrow. I hold my hand out to her, with the metal disc in the center of it. “Do you know what this is? Ti—” I cut myself off, not wanting to get Timothy into trouble. “I found this. When I was in Three yesterday, checking on the mining. Remember? I don’t know what it is, but it has the most unusual markings on it.” Her beautiful peaches-and-cream face pales, and the dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks stand out clearly against it. She plucks the disc from my palm and studies it carefully, but I continue. “On this side, it looks like that’s one of the birds from the Surface. And the other has some kind of head on it. Is it from the Surface?”

She nods slowly. “Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

I bite back a smile, trying not to show how excited I am about it. “And the words? ‘In God We Trust.’ What do they mean? What is it, Mother?”

“It is death, Evelyn.” She looks from the disc to me. Her eyes bore into mine; their gray striations standing out against the sapphire blue. “This little disc—they call it a coin—is half responsible for starting every war there has ever been on the Surface. And that saying? It’s the other half. You must never touch this thing again, Evelyn. I won’t have you corrupted by its power.”

Despite her warnings, I’m still curious. How could such a tiny little metal object be responsible for so much destruction?

She narrows her eyes at me and folds her hand over the coin. “This curiosity you have with the Surface is unhealthy, Evelyn. I must insist that it cease. Immediately.”

I sigh, but bow my head. “Yes, Mother.”

“And to make sure of it, I’m going to have your little fountain dredged for any more Surface contraband.”

No! Not my collection!

I look up sharply, but her face is dark and I know better than to argue. “Yes, Mother.”