Deliverance (12 page)

Just as I'd hoped, the guard barely glances at me. “I'm here to report for training.”

“Name?”

“Hana Norfolk.” I beg my heart to beat calmly.

He pushes the button and returns to his seat. “Go ahead.”

The gate swings open and I sigh in relief, then hurry onto campus. My feet pound out my heart's staccato as I race for the door. I stop and take a deep breath before the door slides open and I step inside. Be calm. Act naturally.

No one is in the lobby, but the HELP comp glows a bright blue. I step into the vac chamber and steel myself for the whooshing that will take me to the second floor in the blink of an eye. I've gotten better at arranging myself correctly, and now the air barely blows a hair out of place.

A woman on the second floor passes me and smiles. I hem-haw around until she's out of sight, then I bolt to Records. Looking around, I'm always aware someone might be watching me. A guard or even the oddly lifelike HELP comp. I have to appear to belong here.

I grip the vial of blood in my fist as I approach the DNA scanner, and, when I'm close, I pull out the tiny cork and pour the blood on my fingertip. The scanner flashes constantly, as it always does.

Lord, let this work. You know how I want to find Mom.

I press my finger onto the scanner and the laser reads the DNA of Professor Higgins' blood.

Clear
flashes across the screen, and the door slides open.

I use the inside of my shirt to wipe off the blood, and I hurry inside.

Shelves line the massive room from floor to ceiling.

Rows and rows of shelves.

How will I ever find anything in here? Professor Higgins has never taken an excessive amount of time, so there must be a system. I move through the aisles, looking for some form of help.
Help!

To my right is a small HELP comp. I tap it and it whirs to life. A search bar blinks on screen, and I have to think fast. Searching for Mom's name might raise a red flag. Maybe I can search medical transfers.

I tap in the words and wait the millisecond before results pop up. A list of names fills the screen.

My breath catches.

Most of them are Middles transferred to Lesser hospitals. Relief washes over me like warm rain. I didn't cause Mom's demotion—it is common practice.

It's only been a few weeks, so finding Mom's name doesn't take long. Instead of tapping it, I look at the reference number. Aisle fourteen. Each aisle is marked overhead, and I jog through the maze to the right row, then pull out the box and search for her file.

“Come on, come on!” I say. Where is it? Someone could walk in any minute, and they might know I'm not supposed to be here.

I dig through the entire box, but the file isn't there. I sigh and lean my head against the wall. This can't be happening. Why would someone else have her file? I replace the box and close down HELP, then move to the door and wave my hand over the sensor to get out.

The hallways are still mostly empty as I make my way to the vac chamber. Up or down? I might be able to make it home before Guard Nev arrives. Even if I can't, I doubt he'll turn me in, but it's better for him to see me than to wait and then report me missing—again.

I zip down to the first floor and wave down a transporter. It takes me to a mailing station first, and I drop Keegan's letter into the box then hurry home.

Guard Nev paces the sidewalk in front of the building as I approach. I climb out and Guard Nev stares at me, his hands behind his back. “Where have you been?” his words aren't spoken kindly or even in a neutral tone. He is furious.

“I was at the Training Dome,” I admit.

“How did you get out?”

“I snuck out. The other guard isn't as observant as you.”

“Why?”

I sigh and turn toward the Training Dome. “Can we talk about it on the way?”

He huffs and begins walking, zooming right by me. I hurry to catch up. “I wanted to look at some things, and I knew you wouldn't let me.”

“In Records?” His voice is sarcastic; like he's pointing out that he knows what I do.

I stop and tug on his uniform. He frowns and stops along with me. “My mom was demoted due to an illness. I just want to know where they took her.” I'm hoping this will resonate with him. He did know her, after all.

His eyes narrow. “You're traveling today.”

I was hoping he wouldn't put that together. “Yes.”

“You cannot look for her. It's illegal.”

My heart picks up speed, but I don't speak. He wouldn't stop me, would he?

I like Guard Nev, and I hope that someday we really can be friends, but I don't care what he tries today. I will do whatever it takes to find her.

“Let's go,” he finally says.

I hurry to catch up, but I can't keep the bounce from my step. Today I might get to see Mom.

 

 

 

 

19

 

The training dome is full when we arrive—when I re-arrive. Trainees chatter in the classroom, and their excitement fills the air in spite of their earlier moans of protest over visiting a Lesser City. I slip into my usual seat near the front of the class. No one speaks to me, and I speak to no one, but Kassy bumps her shoulder against mine and smiles.

I look around and consider the other kids in the room. What will happen to these students in the future? Fischer and his people wanted to change the country, spread deliverance in Christ. What will become of those in Greater City who refuse to believe?

The goal I set off to accomplish seems almost nonexistent now that I'm actually here. How can I spread Christ's message when I'm alone? When I can barely leave my apartment?

Professor Higgins steps to the front of the class and I'm reminded that I may not be alone. Maybe there are others.

I tune out my memories and focus on the professor. He sent me to Records to find something, or someone, but Mom wasn't to be found. Should I tell him that the HELP comp showed her name, but her file was missing?

Now is not the time, so I listen to his boring instructions on keeping our mouths shut in front of the Lessers. The biggest concern is not letting them know all of the extras the Greaters receive. He instructs us to smile at them, interact with them, but mostly to watch them. We are to glean information and bring it back to this room for dissection and planning.

We file out the back of the building—which I've never seen—and into a long vehicle. It's solid black, and almost iridescent. Once we're seated and strapped in, the machine whirs to life and we begin driving.

“Why do we have to take this ancient transporter?” one of the trainees asks. I had wondered the same thing.

“The Lessers don't have transporters,” Professor Higgins explains. “They aren't aware of the technology available to the Greaters. It's important we keep it that way. So we're taking the bus.”

“What else don't they have?” someone else asks.

I frown. Don't these Greaters learn anything in school?

“They don't have HELP comps, or even old computers. They don't have Tech Meds or food deliveries each day.”

He goes on, but my mind is focused on one word. Medicine. I am Greater. I have access to chemotherapy, along with a long list of other medications—Tech Meds.

The knowledge sets my heart to racing. If I can find Mom, if I can get my hands on chemo, then I can try to save her.

I glance back at Guard Nev who sits in the last seat of the vehicle. He watches the city pass us by. I turn to my own window, calculating a plan. All I have to do is find the hospital. Finding her might be easier than I had hoped, but will he try to stop me?

The plan comes together in my mind and I smile.

Kassy sits with me and she chatters on and on about the latest movie she saw. I smile and nod as I need to, but my mind is on one thing only.

The drive takes an hour or so. The bus lurches to a stop in front of a gate, and two guards approach. They speak with the bus driver, and the gates swing open a few minutes later. We pull through and I crane my neck for a better look. This is Lesser City 1.

I wonder what I'll see here—will it be like I've always been taught, or was Fischer telling the truth? I have a feeling that Fischer was right, and the people I will find here are just like me.

My eyes slip closed and I think about Fischer. It's not something I've done very often since coming to Greater City. I can almost feel his hand on my face. It feels like a hundred years ago.

The drive into the old city isn't disappointing or surprising. It looks similar to Middle City 3, only more crowded and a bit more shambled. The people look worn and dirty, but not unhappy. I search their faces for the vacant look Ava wore after taking the pills, but no one here appears that way.

People watch us drive past with unmasked curiosity. They probably never see cars on the road, since they don't get gasoline allowances. Their clothes hang on their bodies like bags, their bones visible beneath their skin. Most of their cheeks are sunken into their faces.

My heart lurches and I think of Jamie. Is this how she is forced to live?

The vehicle parks and we file out. Most of the students press together, unwilling to interact at all. My nerves are on high alert, but I force myself to do better. I step forward and wave at a child in the street. “Hi there. What's your name?”

“Micah.” His voice is soft and sweet, but his eyes are empty and unhealthy looking.

“It's nice to meet you Micah. I'm Hana.”

He smiles shyly and hurries away. I watch him stop at a woman and point at us. She must be his mother. I wave and smile, but she frowns and hurries away.

How can I blame her? I am one of them. I am to be feared.

The realization makes me sad. I am here to help these people, but it will take a lot to get them to trust me.

Gray is all around us. Gray streets, dusty gray buildings, and even a gray sky. The Lessers' clothes are all dull shades of black or gray or brown.

Another thing I notice immediately is the quiet. The lack of noise is unnerving. The people move through the streets in quiet determination. Their clothes don't swish, their breaths are light, and no one chatters among themselves like the trainees had done this morning at the Training Dome.

“Where are the people who qualify to teach?” I ask Professor Higgins. My voice carries in the still air. “Where are the people who could train the others?”

His brow wrinkles as he thinks. “Lesser 1 is poor. There are very few shop owners. Not all of the Lesser cities are this bad, but this one has little hope of producing profitable citizens.”

“But there are a few, right? Where can we find them?”

He pulls a small HELP comp from his shirt pocket and scrolls through the information. “The commerce district is in the center of the city. That is where we'll find the shop owners and other workers.”

A thought strikes me then. “If the Lessers Test as Lesser, what occupational assignments are they given?”

“It depends,” Professor Higgins says as we walk. “Those who are deemed fit are sent to clean the streets or buildings in Middle cities. Others are assigned work in the hospital here, or the child care centers, or shops.”

While their own city wastes away, the Lessers keep Middle cities clean. The thought saddens me. “What about the people who don't work?”

He shrugs. “They probably never tested.”

I look into the faces of the people we pass, and an ache fills me. What could they be, if given the chance?

Something he said sticks out to me, though, and it's exactly what I was hoping for. I latch onto it. “What kind of medical care are the Lessers given?”

I'm suddenly aware of Guard Nev beside me, scowling at me.

I ignore him as any Greater would.

“Their hospitals aren't much. We can tour this city's, if you wish.”

Some of the other trainees moan, but Berry steps forward. “I think that is a fine idea. We need to get a clear picture of those who can't help society. Unhealthy citizens aren't profitable, wouldn't you agree, Middle?”

His gaze is unnerving, but I shake it off. “I suppose.” His calling me by my former ranking is annoying, but it's not what bothers me most. He seems to be implying something else altogether, and he wants me to get it.

The Lessers part like the Red Sea for Moses—I read that story last night—as we walk through the dirty streets. Trash piled on the corners stinks of refuse and is infested with maggots. Some of the trainees gag and turn away. It's hard, but I manage to keep my face forward.

After a few blocks, we reach a single story building.
Medical Clinic
is painted on the front in crude, mismatched letters. “If you would like to see the inside, follow me,” Professor Higgins says. Only a handful of us go in, including Guard Nev. The entire hospital is housed in one single room. Beds line the walls with only a few feet separating each one. The air is stifling and stale, and the only light coming in is from the windows. How could anyone get well here?

I scan the beds quickly, but no one resembling Mom is in this large room. It's almost a relief. As Professor Higgins speaks, I seek out a medic. One stands at a sink, washing supplies. She smiles as I approach.

“Excuse me, can you tell me if you've had a patient named Mya Norfolk?” I say the name slowly, as if that will help her recognize it. Each millisecond of waiting is agony. She may have been moved, or maybe she never came. There are other options, but I don't want to consider them.

But the medic shakes her head. “I'm sorry. I've never heard that name.”

“That's OK. Thanks anyway.”

Guard Nev resumes his place beside me. “It's useless to try. There is no hope.”

“There is always hope,” I bite out.

He stares at me curiously, but I don't explain. Let him think what he wants.

The rest of the trip has lost its appeal. I'm ready to cross this city off the list and move on to the next one. I come very close to asking Professor Higgins when we travel again, but I don't want to seem too obvious. Besides, how many times can I get away with asking to see the hospital?