Compliance (34 page)

She cups my cheek. “When you hand the President your gift, you will demonstrate your unique talent. You’ll show me you’re truly Chosen. You’ll make his death look like natural
causes—a heart attack. No one can suspect my hand or yours in his death.”

“No one will suspect.”

“You understand what I need you to do, Glory?”

“I do.” If she’s asking me to do it, it can’t be wrong, and I want more than anything to please her. I was motherless for three years. I won’t disappoint my new one.

She leans her lips close to my ear. “Glory, it’s time to live up to your name. It’s time to make a glorious act. It’s time to terminate the President.”

Guiding me, Mrs. Kalin steps up to one of the other men in the room. A boy of about ten stands at his side, holding a small box. “Mr. Alast,” Mrs. Kalin says. “This is my daughter, Glory. Glory, this is the Senior VP of Human Resources.”

The man extends a hand and I shake it. “Very nice to meet you, sir.”

“Mr. Alast,” Mrs. Kalin grabs his attention. “Glory is going to present the President with the gift on behalf of the employees of Haven.”

The boy turns to Mr. Alast. “But I was picked.”

Mrs. Kalin leans down in front of the boy and puts a finger under his chin to guide his gaze up to hers. A pinch of jealousy grabs me.

“You’ll get a chance another year,” she tells him. “This is the girl with the honor today.”

The boy smiles. “Yes, this is the girl who will have the honor.” He hands me the box. My jealousy fades. I’ve never
felt so happy or special, so loved and appreciated, not even when I was little. My original mother’s face flashes through my memory.

Something inside my mind snaps and shifts, and I stagger back, losing my balance.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Kalin asks.

“Yes, I’m fine.” I struggle to sort my thoughts. I just agreed to kill the President.

I’m losing my mind. Listening to Mrs. Kalin makes me feel so secure, so happy, so strong, so safe, but she is
not
my mother. My mother is dead. Dead because of my inability to control my Deviance. And now Mrs. Kalin wants me to use it to kill.

If my mother had survived my attack, she would have forgiven me more easily than I’ve been able to forgive myself. My mother loved me—unconditionally—even when I was acting like a brat. Plus, I have a father who loves me in spite of what I did.

I cannot allow Mrs. Kalin inside my head again. I cannot allow her anywhere near the most precious places in my mind, the ones containing the emotions reserved for my family.

Mrs. Kalin is
not
my family and she’s using my most cherished memories, my most sacred emotions, against me. I hate her.

A cheer rises up from the Hub below us and I look over to see that the President has stepped to the edge of the Balcony.

“It’s time,” Mrs. Kalin says and gently pushes on my back.

“It’s time,” I repeat. She must believe I’m still under her control.

“You know what you need to do,” she says.

“I know what I need to do.”

“Good girl.” Mrs. Kalin squeezes my waist as we walk. “I’m so proud of you.”

I keep my eyes forward as I step next to the President at the edge of the balcony. The crowd cheers again. My image, many times larger than I really am, is projected onto every screen around the Hub.

“And offering the President a gift, on behalf of his loyal employees, is Jonathan—” the announcer’s voice breaks off. “There must have been a last minute change, but I’m sure whoever this young woman is, she is thrilled to be representing her fellow employees.”

The crowd cheers again and I can almost feel the sound as it rises to fill the air above the Hub and onto the balcony.

Mrs. Kalin steps up to the announcer’s microphone and, given the President’s expression, I assume her speaking wasn’t part of the program.

“Fellow employees,” Mrs. Kalin says, and the camera pans to her face. Everyone in the Hub is looking into Mrs. Kalin’s eyes on one of the screens. “This is a special day and I’ve chosen a very special girl to represent all of us: my daughter, Glory.” She gestures for me to step to her side, and when I do, the crowd roars again.

Basking in the adoration and excitement, I glance at an image of Mrs. Kalin on one of the screens. She beams at me with pride and love in her eyes and my mind almost shifts,
but I keep hold of myself. I will not let this feeling, no matter how marvelous, take over.

The people at the Settlement use the word Chosen to mean Deviant, but it takes on such a different meaning the way she uses it. She thinks she’s better than everyone else and wants to rule Haven—completely—using mind control. From what I’ve seen, she’ll be able to do it, especially if she has me kill anyone who resists. Every time I look into her eyes, I find it harder to resist.

If she succeeds, no one in Haven will be safe. Or will we all be safer? I can’t decide. But even if she can make us all safer, at what cost? Is safety worth losing our ability to think for ourselves? Our free will?

“It’s time,” she whispers, and I turn toward the President.

Looking at him, memories of how he gloated onscreen the day my father was exed flash into my mind, and they draw emotions to the surface that are powerful enough to kill. But as despicable as he is, killing the President won’t solve my problems—or Haven’s. It will only create more.

The President is the lesser of two evils.

I turn to the microphone and rise up on my toes. “On behalf of the employees of Haven, please accept this gift.” I hold the box toward him and he smiles as our eyes meet. My Deviance sparks, but I keep my gaze focused on his far-too-smooth-for-his-age forehead.

“Thank you, young lady.” The President takes the box and the crowd bursts into song, wishing him a happy birthday.

A loud bang draws my attention—an explosion at the
edge of the Hub. Smoke billows from three different roads leading in.

Crowds emerge from each of the smoke clouds, and from their dress and their weapons it appears that at least some have come from Outside. I spot what looks like the FA insignia on a flag.

Mrs. Kalin takes my arm. “Now. Kill him. While everyone is distracted.”

The President is speaking into the microphone, trying to calm the crowd, but it’s hard to hear him over the shouts below. Someone in the crowd has a megaphone and is calling for everyone to rise up, telling them that they don’t need to live under Management’s oppression anymore.

“Join us!” the man says. “Rise up!” He’s too far away for me to recognize him. “Haven does not equal safety. Not with Management in control.”

The man with the megaphone is shot by a Comp’s Shocker and falls to the ground in convulsions. Someone picks up his megaphone and continues the messages. That man is shot too. The Comps converge on the newcomers.

The camera focuses on our balcony, displayed on all the Hub screens, and zooms back to show the building below.

I gasp. Burn is climbing up the scaffolding beneath us, toward the Presidential balcony. He’ll never make it. He’s going to be shot. If he hasn’t been spotted already, he will be soon.

Mrs. Kalin’s beside me, watching the mélée. Her hand lands on my shoulder and squeezes, fingers digging in.
“Now,” she says, through gritted teeth. “Now! I need to get this crowd under control. See how ineffective the President is? If we don’t act quickly, we’ll lose Haven to the Shredders.”

I turn toward her, not even trying to hide my fear, my doubt.

“You can do this,” she says, her eyes connecting with mine. “Don’t be afraid. I believe in you. I am so proud.”

Calmness floods through me, then determination. She’s right. The President has lost the employees’ confidence. He’s not fit to lead. He’s got to go. Only Mrs. Kalin, my new mother, will be able to restore safety to Haven.

“I’m proud too,” I tell her. “Proud that I was Chosen. Proud that you’re my mother.” I hug her and then head for the President.

Burn appears at the railing at the far side of the balcony. Given all the confusion, no one but me seems to have noticed him, and the moment I see his face, my thoughts clarify.

I remember who I am, which thoughts are my own.

When I came back to Haven I vowed not to use my Deviance to kill. I vowed to stop using my powers because of what I did to my mother, but Burn was right. Sometimes the ends do justify the means. Denying what I can do is the same thing as denying who I am. I’m Glory. My emotions can kill.

And this is my chance. I need to kill one last time. I need to kill Mrs. Kalin.

I turn toward her and, with my Deviance sparking, I look into her eyes.

“The President,” she says, her voice low and hard. “Kill him. It’s the best thing for us and the best thing for Haven.”

“The best thing for Haven,” I repeat back, hoping she’ll be tricked into thinking her mind control’s working, but I maintain my concentration, my focus, and I latch onto her eyes. My entire body shakes from the effort of maintaining control. I need to hold on. Her heart’s racing and I hear and feel the rush of her blood as the organ pumps. I sense her heart as if it’s my own. Then I squeeze.

Her expression shifts. She knows what I’m doing. She knows that her mind control’s no longer working on me. She knows that I’m winning.

You don’t want to kill me
, her thoughts invade mine.
You love me. You don’t want to kill your own mother. Not again.

Not again. Those words are like a stab to my guts. My thoughts flip back and forth, flashing like a strobe. I can’t kill my mother a second time. I don’t want to kill Mrs. Kalin. I love her.

No. She’s invading my thoughts. I hate her. She’s dangerous.

Pressure builds inside my head and I raise my hands to quell the searing pain. I have to hold on. I can’t let her win. She’s too strong.

I break eye contact; I’m panting; my head’s screaming with pain.

“Guards,” Mrs. Kalin yells. “I’ve been betrayed. This girl isn’t my daughter. She’s an impostor. A Deviant terrorist here to assassinate the President.”

The Comps on the balcony turn toward me, Shocker guns pointing. If I’m hit with multiple tags at once on full power I’ll die.

Mrs. Kalin grabs the microphone, looks directly into the camera, and says, “This girl is dangerous. We can’t wait for an expunging. We must terminate her now or she’ll kill us all.” She turns toward the President. “Immediately.”

“Kill her. Kill her,” the crowd shouts from below. The President frowns.

Burn pulls over the side of the balcony. I shake my head at him, trying to get him to go away. There’s no need for him to get caught up in this mess.

I turn to the screens where my image is projected. There’s a huge red dot on my head where the laser sights from at least six Comp guns are merged into one. This is it. I’m going to die. I might be able to disable one of the Comps using my Gift, but that would leave five. Even if the President doesn’t order my immediate execution, Mrs. Kalin can easily use her power to get one of the Comps to act under her orders.

“Mr. President,” Mrs. Kalin captures his attention and, from the look on his face, his mind too. “This Deviant must die,” she says. “Now.”

The President grabs my arm. “I’ll kill her myself.” He pulls me toward the edge of the balcony.

“No.” Burn charges forward, rage on his face. Almost instantly, he transforms, growing to more than seven feet tall, his muscles nearly bursting his coat’s seams.

The President releases me and drops down in a crouch, covering his head.

The closest Comp points his Shocker at Burn but before he can fire, Burn picks up the Comp and tosses him over the balcony. Stunned, I watch as the man falls to his death.

Another Comp shoots his Shocker and the tag strikes Burn’s arm. Electricity courses through him and Burn roars, growing even angrier. He pulls the tag off his coat, tearing a hole.

In a full rage, Burn is enormous, ghastly, out of control. Like this, he is like a Shredder—not so much in appearance as in his drive to kill.

He swings his arms, knocking people down like they’re flies. The Comps back away and the VPs run off the balcony into the building. Only two Comps remain.

The President’s still crouched in a ball near the railing. Burn lunges for him and lifts his body, as easily as a child lifting a ball.

“No,” I yell as Burn tosses the President over the balcony’s side.

Below, a roar rises from the crowd and it’s not clear whether they’re happy or horrified. Probably both, and I realize Mrs. Kalin got what she wanted. The President’s dead. Where is she?

Burn roars at the few remaining people, who are hiding behind the Birthday decorations, and I spot Mrs. Kalin. She’s pressed against the wall, waiting, watching. Burn heads toward the remaining people. If I don’t stop him, he’ll kill everyone.

“Burn, stop.” I grab his arm, and he turns and looks into my eyes.

“Please,” I shout. “This isn’t you.”

His chest rises and falls. His eyes are red, full of rage. Terror builds inside me. He’s hurt me before. I have no idea
how much control he has over his actions when he’s transformed. Does he even recognize me? Will I be the next one thrown over the balcony? Or crushed beneath his fists?

I do know that once this is over, he won’t even remember what he’s done, but I need to try to get him to listen to me now. I need to stop him from killing anyone else.

“This isn’t the way,” I say while holding onto his huge arm. “It’s not you. You don’t want to kill.”

Something in his eyes shifts and understanding builds inside them. I hope.

An explosion bursts down below and I turn. People are racing out of the Hub, pushing and shoving, climbing over those who’ve fallen. It’s out of control.

Burn grabs me around the waist and leaps.

From below on the balcony, Mrs. Kalin stares up, her mouth hanging open, shock on her face.

I’m happy that I’ve stopped Burn from more needless killing, but I missed my chance to kill Mrs. Kalin.

B
URN SLINGS ME
onto his back and climbs, swinging up from one window ledge to the next. With him transformed into his larger self, I can barely reach my arms around this neck and his power pulses under my fingers.