Compliance (19 page)

I back up. “What’s going on there?” I turn to face Mrs. Kalin. Even she can’t make this seem humane.

“That’s the rehabilitation room.”

“Rehabilitation?”

She takes a deep breath and studies my eyes as if she’s deciding whether or not to trust me. I fight to keep my Deviance under control so I won’t hurt her.

“I signed the agreement.”

“It’s not that.” She shakes her head. “You’re too young to be exposed to this. I made a mistake in bringing you in here.”

“No,” I touch her arm. “I mean, I want to learn everything I can.”

“You’re such a brave young woman.” Her smile touches my heart. “Your mother must have been so proud of you. I know I am.”

My Deviance sparks behind my eyes, so I blink to clear the threat of tears and ban the emotions that would betray my secret if I let them take over.

She steps to the door, opens it, and guides me inside.

Now that we’ve entered, I’m positive some of these people are Deviants. The woman on the first table has what looks like a steel necklace that covers her entire throat and thick cuffs on each wrist. She’s sleeping. “Is she—?”

“A Deviant, yes.” Mrs. Kalin studies me as if looking for a reaction but I remain neutral.

“Why is she here?”

Mrs. Kalin checks the display on a machine at the head
of the woman’s bed. “She’s a volunteer.”

“For what?”

“To help us figure out the link between Deviants and Shredders. The more we understand, the more we’ll be able to figure out how to prevent the madness.”

“And she volunteered.”

“We give Deviants who haven’t committed egregious policy violations this choice.”

My stomach flips. “This or be expunged?”

She puts her hand on my back and I resist the urge to pull away. I turn and look into her eyes.

“Yes.” She pauses for a moment. “Which would you choose?”

I look down to hide my fear. My stomach convulses, twisting in on itself. Does she know I’m a Deviant? I can barely breathe.

But when I look up, Mrs. Kalin’s gaze remains calm and proud. “Speaking hypothetically, of course. If you were a Deviant, which would you choose?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Do you really think you’d choose to be killed by Shredders over this?” She gestures toward the tables. “Our test subjects are well taken care of and grateful for the choice they made.”

I look down the line of beds, eight on each side of the room, and everyone seems to be sleeping peacefully. No one’s in pain. “I guess you’re right. It is better than what the Shredders would do to them.”

“It certainly is.”

But why don’t all Deviants take this option?
I wonder. “Can I see Scout now?”

“Of course.” We leave the room, and as we continue I keep my eyes forward. When she stops, she opens a door to a small room that’s softly lit and quiet. I step in after her.

Scout lies on a bed. White sheets cover his body up to his neck, and his face is bruised and swollen. I rush to his side. “Scout. It’s Glory. Are you okay?”

He doesn’t open his eyes. I touch his forehead, one of the only places that’s not bruised. He’s warm and breathing. That’s something.

“We’re doing everything we can to help.” Mrs. Kalin steps up beside me.

I lean into her, my body suddenly weak, and she wraps her arm around me. “Don’t you worry. We will apprehend the terrorist who did this to your friend.”

“Terrorist? I thought it was an accident.”

Her expression hardens. “No, this was the work of a terrorist—a Deviant terrorist.”

M
RS
. K
ALIN
’
S OFFICE IS
the opposite of what I expect. Every other place in the Hospital is sterile and white and as brightly lit as the Hub, but her office is cozy and quiet and soft.

She guides me to a chair with an upholstered seat and wooden arms, and I sink into it gratefully. On the other side of a small desk, she sits in a high-backed chair and gestures for her System screen to wake. Then, twisting her hands, she adjusts the display so that it’s visible to me, too, hovering above the edge of her desk.

She presses a few keys on her keyboard and a video starts. It’s the Hub at night, based on the lighting and lack of pedestrians. The camera’s focused on the lower levels of scaffolding, then it pans up to the top. Mrs. Kalin presses a key and the video fast forwards, the camera panning up and
down, until there’s a blur. She stops the video and backs up a few seconds.

A person dressed in black is standing at the base of the scaffolding holding a wrench.

I snap back in my chair. It looks like Burn, and I watch in utter horror as he loosens a bolt at the side of the scaffolding. He then loosens another and another. Burn rounds the far side of the scaffolding and loosens another bolt. The camera zooms in. Mrs. Kalin presses a key and the video pauses, focused on Burn’s face. There’s no doubt. It’s him.

Blood rushes in my ears. I feel sick. Betrayed. Then my anger swiftly changes to hatred. My eyes tingle as my Deviance builds. The person on the screen can’t really be Burn. It’s Zina. But knowing that doesn’t help. Someone I know did this on purpose. Someone I know killed innocent people and nearly killed Scout. Plus, because of Zina, the Comps will blame Burn.

“I realize this must be a shock.” Mrs. Kalin leans over her desk toward me. “But I thought you should know that this heinous crime was committed by the same Deviant who kidnapped you.”

I can’t look at Mrs. Kalin. It’s too dangerous. I can’t even talk. I have no idea what to say. She has no idea how well I know Burn—the real Burn.

“I can see that you’re scared,” she says. “But don’t worry. The Compliance Officers will find him. I’ll keep you safe. There’s no way this Deviant will escape detection again.”

I hate to think that even someone as devious as Zina is
capable of this crime, and I wonder what Rolph will do when he finds out what she’s done. She’ll be kicked out of the FA, that’s for sure, but with her as my only contact right now, how will I even get a message to Rolph to let him know of her crime?

I can’t think about this right now—not around Mrs. Kalin—no matter how much I trust her, I can’t trust her with this. It would be one thing to tell her my secrets, another to share those of others.

I flick my gaze up, and her eyes are filled with concern. I break eye contact as she reaches across the desk and takes my hand. “I’m so sorry that this happened to your friend and his co-workers. I promise you, this Deviant, and anyone he associates with, will be captured and killed.”

Mrs. Kalin treats me to dinner in the VPs’ dining room, but although the chicken meat is seasoned with something that makes my tongue tingle, and the carrots look as bright and sweet as the ones I ate Outside, the food tastes like dust. I can’t swallow. Finally, Mrs. Kalin gives up on trying to get me to eat, and since it’s past curfew, she has a Comp escort me back to the barracks.

I find Cal alone in the rec room with the lights off. The tape’s off his nose but the bruising seems worse. I step tentatively toward him, unease chewing my insides. I have both good news and bad, and I’m not certain how he’ll react to either.

The Cal I’ve known my whole life would be thrilled to know his brother’s alive and recovering, but furious to learn
that the scaffolding collapse was no accident. The Cal I’ve known my whole life would remain calm on hearing all this news. He’d think before acting.

Problem is, the boy I saw punching a hole in the wall, the boy I saw strapped down and bleeding as he fought his restraints, was not the Cal I’ve known my whole life. I think it’s best if I keep the sabotage news a secret.

It won’t help Cal to know any more about Scout’s accident right now. It’s a matter for the Comps to handle, and if Cal ever learns of my connection to Zina and the FA, he’ll never forgive me—ever. The best thing I can do now is reassure him that Scout’s in good hands.

Cal’s head lifts. “Glory.” He bounds out of the chair and runs across the room. Slamming into me, he lifts me in a tight embrace. “Where have you been?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” I stroke his hair at the back of his neck and his body trembles as he holds mine hard against his. I keep my breaths slow and steady, hoping some calmness will soak into him by osmosis and replenish his normal personality. But who am I kidding? I’m far from calm. And the longer I’m away from Mrs. Kalin, the less I’m willing to trust her. At least she didn’t keep me in the Hospital.

After what feels like ten minutes, he loosens his hold and backs up, pulling me with him to sit on a long metal bench against the wall.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Me?” He brushes hair back from my face. “When they released me, I couldn’t find you. I was so worried.”

“How are you?” I reach down to his wrists and find them bandaged.

“I’m okay.”

I touch his cheek, and the reassuring prickle of stubble grounds me in reality and sends warm shivers up my arm to my chest. “I went to the Hospital.”

Alarm shoots into Cal’s eyes. “What? Really? Why?”

“I was with Mrs. Kalin.”

He nods and his expression changes to one of visible relief. “How is Scout?”

“He was asleep.” Or unconscious? “He’s badly hurt, but alive, and Mrs. Kalin says he’s got a chance at a full recovery.”

Cal leans back against the wall. “Thank Haven. I started to think Mrs. Kalin’s visit this afternoon was a dream.”

“She was here.” I study his expression. His calmness is eerie, especially compared to his reaction when he was pulled out of class this morning. “There are no guarantees, though,” I add to make sure I haven’t misled him. “He didn’t look good.”

Cal turns toward me and worry fills his eyes. “But Mrs. Kalin is helping him, right?”

I nod.

“Thank you.”

“For what? I didn’t do anything.”

“Thank you for asking Mrs. Kalin to help.” He takes my face in his hands and kisses me softly. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“It’s me who’s lucky to have you.” I wrap my arms around his neck. Without Cal, I’m not sure how I’d cope.

His arms tighten around me, and I bury my face in his neck. He smells of soap and safety.

“What else did you see in the Hospital?” he asks. I’m snapped back to reality. How much should I tell him?

“It’s not as bad as we imagined as kids.” A vision of a Deviant man, spread-eagled and dripping with blood, zaps through my mind. I shake my head and the image vanishes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I was thinking about the stories we used to tell each other about the Hospital.”

“I always figured they couldn’t be true.” His voice is so calming it softens my skepticism and remaining doubts. “Back then, we thought Comps were all monsters too.”

“Good point,” I say. “Not everyone in Management is all bad, either.” Management isn’t setting off bombs or sabotaging scaffolding. And Management’s hatred of Deviants is based on ignorance and fear more than cruelty. By backing the FA, did I choose the wrong side?

I shake that thought out of my mind and close my eyes. No. Everyone I’ve met in the FA—except Zina—is a good person who only wants to help others. I’ll bet Mrs. Kalin will side with the FA once she knows about them. Images from the Hospital flash through my memory: Mrs. Kalin’s reassuring smile, the clean sheets covering Scout, the soft warm lighting of her office.

A table of sharp instruments. Screams. Groans.

I tremble and snap my eyes open.

“Are you okay?” Cal asks.

“It’s nothing.” I give my head a sharp shake. “I’m just tired.” And confused. And I need to visit Jayma tonight. She must be so worried about Scout.

I slide off Cal’s lap and cross the room, stretching out the tight muscles in my back and trying to clear my foggy head of horrible images. I had so many nightmares about the Hospital as a child, and with all that happened today, with all the secrets and lies crowding my mind, I can’t trust my own thoughts.

The room spins. I back up and drop onto a chair.

“What’s wrong?” Cal dives down to one knee in front of me, his hands on my thighs. “You’ve gone white.”

“I need sleep.” My body feels strange. Like I’m floating. I should have forced myself to eat dinner. The past few days I’ve been so dizzy.

“Is Scout really okay?” Cal grips my arms. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“He’s okay. Really.” An idea strikes. “You should see for yourself.” Another trip to the Hospital—one when I’m better rested—will help me to clarify what I saw. Especially if Cal’s along to compare notes with. “I’ll ask Mrs. Kalin if you can visit Scout.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.”

He pulls me up and kisses me softly. My lightheadedness returns, but at least this time I understand its source.

I let myself nap for a few hours before sneaking out of the barracks and heading for the Pents. The narrow hall leading
to Jayma’s family’s apartment is empty and quiet. Not surprising at this time of night when those workers who aren’t on shift are asleep. I wind my lantern for more light, then duck under a piece of metal that holds the flimsy walls of the narrow corridor apart.

Pausing at the door, I can’t hear any movement inside. I don’t want to wake her whole family but I need to tell her that I’ve seen Scout, that he’s alive.

I knock softly. No one answers. I knock again and it opens a crack.

“Who’s there?” Jayma’s father’s voice drifts out in a deep whisper.

“It’s Glory.”

The door slides open and he grabs my arm, pulls me inside, and shuts the door quickly. I point my lantern toward the ground and it fades in the near darkness.

“Thank Haven it’s you.” He shakes his head. “I thought it might be someone from HR or the Comps.”

“Why?”

He wipes sweat from his forehead. “Jayma’s not doing very well.”

I tense. “What? Tell me.” My heart rate increasing, I look over to the thin screen that separates Jayma’s bed from the rest of her family’s home.

Her dad leans on the back of the door, looking so old and so tired. He’s always been thin, but tonight his eye sockets are hollowed out with deep purple.