Sovereign (Sovereign Series) (8 page)

Another
soldier brings us tiny cups of water, not enough to quench the thirst.  I’ve
never felt this way before.  Sean and Billy are doubled over, one vomiting up
stomach acid, and the other is dry-heaving.  Luckily, I don’t vomit.  I bend
over with my hands on my knees, focusing on slowing my heart rate and trying
desperately to breathe.  It feels like the air is no longer air, but heavy fog
that burns going in and stings coming out. 

Nathan
clears his throat.  I finally notice the other kids on the ground with their
arms on their knees.  They look ashamed.  “Billy, why did you come in second?”
Nathan asks.

Billy
looks bewildered, still struggling to control the heaving his body has taken
to.  “I don’t know, sir.” 

“You
don’t know,” Nathan says, agitated.

“No,
sir.”  Billy’s voice sounds desperate.  Pleading.  He shouldn’t feel so bad,
he’s one of only three that finished. 

“Sean.” 
Nathan has shifted his attention.  Sean’s composing himself better than Billy. 
Better than me, too,
I think.  “Why did you finish first?” Nathan asks
him. 

“Because
I’m the fastest, sir,” he fumbles out too confidently. 

“You
mean you ran the fastest.”  I detect the subtle difference, but I don’t think
Sean does.

“Yes...sir,”
he responds, confused. 

“You
understand the difference, of course?”  He’s standing closer to Sean, almost in
his face.  Oddly, they’re almost the exact same height and I wonder if Nathan
would be dwarfed by Dylan’s stature. 
I wonder if Twig would, too
.

“No,
sir, I don’t.” 

“Just
because you ran the fastest, doesn’t mean you are the fastest runner.”  Nathan
shifts his weight and tilts his head to crack his neck.  Even I’m getting
impatient waiting for Sean to connect the dots.

“I
don’t follow, sir.” 

“Cori.” 
When Nathan says my name, it sounds like the most vile word in the English
language.  He has that effect.  “Cori will race you to the tower and back.  The
fastest runner will be rewarded with water and food.  The loser will do without
both until morning.” 

If
this were Billy I was supposed to race, I would let him win.  I hate him, but
I’m too tired to care.  But Sean is different.  I’m almost happy Nathan is
trying to break him.  I won’t let him win in a one-on-one. 

But
I can’t run anymore. 

We
stand side-by-side, both still exhausted and panting.  I look around at
everyone, pumping my fists.  Marsi nods when our eyes meet.

Nathan
yells “go,” and we take off.  I allow him approximately a two-foot lead all the
way to the tower.  He touches the wood and I touch it one second later, then
kick it into high-gear, which would be a lot faster if I hadn’t just run
twenty-five miles.  We’re neck and neck.  Then in the last ten yards, I leave
him behind. 

I
pass Nathan first but I’m not sure how much I won by.  We both throw ourselves
on the ground, not caring how weak we must look.  I can’t
imagine
what I
must look like right now.  My clothes are sopping with sweat, and I can feel
hair plastered to my forehead.

Sean’s
cheeks are burning red, and his forehead is scrunched up like he’s ashamed.  It
makes me consider feeling sorry for him, but I don’t.  I’ll always remember him
as the boy who picked on the skinny girl in a dark stairwell, two against one. 
After a moment, he stiffens his upper lip, and his shame turns to anger.  He
can’t keep his breaths steady. 
He’s going to hyperventilate if he doesn’t calm
down.

“Very
good,” Nathan says calmly, his hands behind his back.  “Why did you lose the
race, Sean?” 

“Because
I’m tired,” he says with his chest puffed up.  I think I see the shame fighting
the anger for first place in his emotions.

“Don’t
you suppose 1206 is tired, too?” 

Sean
spits at the ground in my general direction and doesn’t answer. 

Nathan
walks closer to Sean and gestures for Sean to get up, which he does
reluctantly.  “Why did she beat you?” he asks again, more forcefully.  Sean shrugs
but he blushes a little.  Nathan grabs his shirt and pulls him close.  “Why did
she beat you?”

“I
don’t know,” he grumbles. 

Nathan
lets go of his shirt and steps away.  “Do you think this is a game?” 

“No,
sir.”  Sean steadies himself. 
Good
.  I glance at everyone else. 
Marsiana is expressionless, but the other pledges are fully alert.  They still
look terrible, but they don’t look so sick anymore.  Some of them have been
resting for a while. 

“Then
why did she win?”

“Because
she’s faster, sir,” Sean says loudly, distain evident in every syllable.  If he
hated me five years ago, I can’t imagine how much he loathes me now.  I’m
suddenly aware that everybody is staring at me.  I feel like a freak show and
hate the attention.  I feel exposed, like they can all see right through my
charade.  Like someone will figure out what I’m planning.  Someone’s going to
read every thought and it’ll all be over.  I’ll be killed for treason, and
anyone who ever helped me will be punished--maybe killed--for abetting. 

I
have to tell myself my mind is the one thing that’s mine alone.  Nathan will
never know what I know, and as long as that stays true, no one I care for can
be hurt on my account.  If I just keep it together, no one will get hurt. 

Nathan
eyes me with a smirk, somehow pleased like he’s just handed me something on a
silver platter.  His pleasure is my displeasure, and I wish I could rewind the
race and lose just to spite him.  I don’t know what he’s trying to do, and I
wish he would just hurt me once and for all to get it out of his system. 
Despite his demeanor, I remember the aggression in the jail cell and in my room
at Underage.  So even when he smiles at me, I know there’s something darker
lurking.

The
captain clears her throat and Nathan shoots his eyes to her.  She doesn’t
speak, she simply peers at him through eager eyes.  I imagine she wants orders
or instruction.  The group has lingered uncomfortably long in this moment that
no one even understands the point of--especially not me. 

“Dismissed
until dinner time.  Drink plenty of water, children.  Except Sean, of
course.”   

My
second shower fades away as the hot water runs out.  The temperature gradually
dwindles until it’s lukewarm, then cool, then cold.  I haven’t moved an inch
since I stepped in.  Every ill sensation the heat took from me, the cold has
replaced.  I push a button to shut off the stream and sink to the floor, too
exhausted to dry myself off or do anything at all.  I grab the towel and
without much thought, I bundle it up and use it as a pillow.  I drift away to
the sound of nothing, with thoughts of nothing but exhaustion pulling me under.

Pounding,
pounding.  I’m startled out of my dreamless sleep making no sense of the noise
I’m hearing.  It’s the door, and I’m still in the shower.

“Dinner
time,” Marsi calls through the door.

“Be
right out.” 

I
scramble to my feet and wrap myself in the towel.  I catch a glimpse of myself
in the mirror and realize there is no hope for my hair now that I’ve slept on
it soaking wet.  I throw it into a low ponytail--the same as every other woman
in this colony--and tuck my bangs behind my ear.  They’re just now getting long
enough to do so.  Six months ago, I stole a pair of scissors and cut them short
in protest to the conformity laws.  No one here has bangs.  Bangs are
impractical and they want us all to look the same.  Do our hair the same. 
Dress the same.  Everything the same.  Yada, yada--I spent a night in jail.

When
I emerge from the bathroom, Marsi has her arms crossed and she’s certainly
displeased with something.  Probably me. 

“I’m
not your caretaker, you know.”  Yep, it’s me she’s displeased with.  “I’m your
roommate, and your superior officer.” 

“Okay.” 
I’m not sure what else to say.

“Next
time I’ll go without you.  If you miss meal time, you don’t eat.  Got it?”

“Yes,
ma’am.”  She’s far from the pleasant host she had been this morning.  I’m
confused as to whether she’s simply moody or if something in today’s events has
changed her mind about me.  Maybe wondering if she was a threat to me was the
wrong question.  Perhaps I’m a threat to her somehow.  Or she’s just realized
how much of a handful I am.

At
dinner, we’re the last to arrive and she rolls her eyes when an older officer
gives her a scornful look.  As far as I’m concerned, there’s still a line for
the buffet so what’s the big deal if we weren’t here to wait in it even longer?

I
take note of everyone, and it’s essentially the same group that I remember from
this morning, sitting mostly in the same places.  Except one person.  Sean. 

Sean
sits alone in the corner of the room right by the spread of food.  He can see
it, probably smell it, but he’s not eating.  I remember his punishment for
losing with a pang of guilt.  He can’t eat because of me.  He can’t drink water
either.  And even worse, Nathan has made a show of his defeat.  I should be
happy Sean is getting what he deserves.  But I’m not.  He looks weak and
exhausted.  I’ve probably had a gallon of water since the race, and he’s had
nothing.  He
needs
water.

I
grab a tray and load it up with dinner.  I choose chicken flavored again, even
though I have no idea what it is.  When I grab a bottle of water at the end of
the table, I pass closely to Sean and lean to whisper.  “I think the shower
water is safe to drink.”

His
eyes dart up to me, incredulous and angry.  “What?” 

I
fumble for a moment and grow self-conscious.  I look around and catch Nathan’s
eyes on me, and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly.  He probably thinks
I’m rubbing in Sean’s loss. 

I
shrug, hoping Sean will catch on to my suggestion and heed the advice.  But I’m
not going to stand and discuss it with him now that people are paying
attention.

I
drop my tray haphazardly on the table next to Marsi.  I wonder if she would mind
that I’ve assigned her a short name in my thoughts.  Habit I guess.  Long names
annoy me.  I think everyone’s name should have a two-syllable maximum.

“Why’s
Sean sitting there?” I ask in a low voice.

“To
humiliate him.  He wasn’t punished for performing badly, he was punished for
his arrogance.  Arrogance doesn’t sit well with Nathan.”  Her demeanor is
pleasant again, and now I’m even more confused.  Maybe she’s just happy when
food’s around.

“Why
did he choose me to race him?”

“Because
you’re the fastest.”  She shovels in a bite of food.

“But
how would he know?  How could anybody know that?”

She
laughs and I feel myself blushing.  “I told him you were holding back.”

“And
as it turns out you were,” Nathan’s voice chimes.  He stands behind me, and I
whirl in my seat to face him.  He seats himself beside me and I feel infinitely
uncomfortable.  “Here she is.  The woman who makes running a marathon look
easy.”  He called me a
woman
and I’m not sure how I feel about that. 
I’m just a girl.  A silly girl with grand ideas about freedom. 

I
take a bite of bread.  I have no idea if he expects me to respond, but I have
nothing to say. 
Bide your time
, I think. 

Nathan
clears his throat.  “Well done, soldier.”  He claps me on the back, then he’s
gone, just as fast as he arrived.  I don’t look up until he’s left the room,
and when I do, about half the eyes in the room are on me.  Hate it, hate it. 
Hate this attention. 

Sean’s
eyes are burning into me most of all.  He’s using the only energy left in his
body toward hating me.  I didn’t humiliate him today.  Nathan did.  I excuse
myself early and storm to my room on the first floor, only to realize I don’t
have access without 587.  I slump to the floor to wait, wondering when I’ll
have my own clearance.  I wonder if they’ll put a chip in my neck and scan my
fingerprint.  Are they really dumb enough to trust me with those things?  I’m
sure they can limit my accessibility to certain things, though. 

I
look toward the footsteps approaching me, expecting Marsiana.  But suddenly I’m
twelve again, and I’m alone in a dark space with two boys who hate me.

Sean
and Billy stand over me while I scramble to my feet.  Before I can speak, a
fist slams into my stomach.  Billy’s punch is a hundred times harder than it
was five years ago. 

I
double over, not willing to accept that this is happening again.  I can’t fight
them, I can’t give Nathan a reason to punish me.  I’m done breaking the law. 

A
knee strikes my ribcage.  I think that one came from Sean, but I’m not sure. 
He should be passing out from dehydration, not beating me up. 

Sweaty
hands grab my neck and I cringe away from them, swinging my leg straight out
and making contact with something, but I can’t see what.  From the corner of my
eye I see a security camera, and know that I shouldn’t fight back.  But I have
to do something.  I block the next fist that comes at me, even though I’m still
crouching.