Uglies (27 page)

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Authors: Scott Westerfeld

BOOK: Uglies
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She shook her head, forced words through the cinders in her throat. “I was out late with David. That's all.” Speaking made her sore jaw ache.

Croy frowned. “I haven't seen him all morning.”

“Really?” She blinked away tears. “Maybe he got away.”

“I doubt anyone did.” Croy jutted his chin toward the gate of the pen. A large group of Smokies was on its way, guarded by a squad of Specials. Among them, Tally recognized faces from those who'd made a stand at the mess hall.

“They're just mopping up now,” he said.

“Have you seen Shay?”

Croy shrugged. “She was at breakfast when they attacked, but I lost track of her.”

“What about the Boss?”

Croy looked around. “No.”

“I think he got away. He and I made a run together.”

A dark smile crossed Croy's face. “That's funny. He always said he wouldn't mind getting captured. Something about a face-lift.”

Tally managed to smile. But then she thought about the brain lesions that went along with becoming pretty, and a shiver passed through her body. She wondered how many of these captives knew what was really going to happen to them.

“Yeah, the Boss was going to give himself up, to help me get away, but I couldn't have made it through the forest.”

“Why not?”

She wriggled her toes. “No shoes.”

Croy raised an eyebrow. “You picked the wrong day to sleep late.”

“I guess so.”

Outside the overcrowded rabbit pen, the new arrivals were being organized into groups. A pair of Specials moved through the pen, flashing a reader into the bound Smokies' eyes, taking them outside one by one.

“They must be separating everyone by city,” Croy said.

“Why?”

“To take us home,” he said coldly.

“Home,” she repeated. Just last night, that word had changed its meaning in her mind. And now
home
was destroyed. It lay around her in ruins, burning and captured.

She scanned the captives, looking for Shay and David. The familiar faces in the crowd were haggard, dirty, crumpled by shock and defeat, but Tally realized that she no longer thought of them as ugly. It was the cold expressions of the Specials, beautiful though they were, that seemed horrific to her now.

A disturbance caught her eye. Three of the invaders were carrying a struggling figure, bound hand and foot, through the pen. They marched straight to the resistors' corner and dumped her onto the ground.

It was Shay.

“Watch this one.”

The two Specials guarding them glanced at the still writhing figure. “Armed resistor?” one asked.

There was a pause. Tally saw that one of the Specials had a bruise marring his pretty face.

“Unarmed. But dangerous.”

The three left their captive behind, their cruel grace marked with a touch of hurry.

“Shay!” Croy hissed.

Shay rolled herself over. Her face was red, her lips puffy and bleeding. She spat, saliva trailing from her mouth to a bloodred glob on the dusty ground.

“Croy,” she managed with a thick tongue.

Then her eyes fell on Tally.

“You!”

“Uh, Shay . . . ,” Croy began.

“You did this!” Her whole body writhed like a snake in its death throes. “Stealing my boyfriend wasn't enough? You had to betray the whole Smoke!”

Tally closed her eyes and shook her head. It couldn't be true. She had destroyed the pendant. The fire had consumed it.

“Shay!” Croy said. “Calm down. Look at her. She fought them.”

“Are you blind, Croy? Look around you!
She
did this!”

Tally took a deep breath and forced herself to look at Shay. Her friend's eyes burned with hatred.

“Shay, I swear to you, I didn't. I never . . .” Her voice faltered.

“Who else could have led them here?”

“I don't know.”

“We can't blame each other, Shay,” Croy said. “It could've been anything. A satellite image. A scouting mission.”

“A spy.”

“Will you
look at her,
Shay?” Croy cried. “She's tied up, like us. She resisted!”

Shay slammed her eyes shut and shook her head.

The two Specials with the eye-reader had reached the resistors' corner of the pen. One stood back while the other stepped forward warily. “We don't want to hurt you,” she announced. “But we will if we have to.”

The cruel pretty grabbed Croy's chin and flashed the reader in his eye. She looked at its readout.

“Another one of ours,” she said.

The other Special raised an eyebrow. “Didn't know we had so many runaways.”

The two hauled Croy to his feet and marched him toward the largest group of Smokies outside. Tally bit her lip. Croy was one of Shay's old friends, so these two Specials were from her own city. Maybe all the invaders were.

It had to be a coincidence. This couldn't be her fault. She'd seen the pendant burn!

“So you've got Croy on your side too now, I see,” Shay hissed.

Tears began to fill Tally's eyes, but not from the pepper this time. “Look at me, Shay!”

“He suspected you from the beginning. But I told him every time, ‘No, Tally's my friend. She'd never do anything to hurt me.'”

“Shay, I'm not lying.”

“How did you change Croy's mind, Tally? The same way you changed David's?”

“Shay, I never meant for that to happen.”

“So where were you two last night?”

Tally swallowed, trying to hold her voice steady. “Just talking. I told him about my necklace.”

“That took all night? Or did you just decide to make your move before the Specials came? One last game with him. With me.”

Tally lowered her head. “Shay . . .”

A hand grabbed her chin and forced it up. She blinked, and a dazzling red light flashed.

The Special looked at the device closely. “Hey, it's her.”

Tally shook her head. “No.”

The other Special looked at the readout, nodding confirmation. “Tally Youngblood?”

She didn't answer. They lifted her to her feet and dusted her off.

“Come with us. Dr. Cable wants to see you immediately.”

“I knew it,” Shay hissed.

“No!”

They pulled Tally toward the gate of the pen. She twisted her head around to look back, trying to think of words that would explain.

Shay glared up at her from the ground, bloody teeth gritted, her eyes falling to Tally's bound wrists. A second later, Tally felt the pressure release, and her hands popped apart. The Specials had cut her handcuffs.

“No,” she said softly.

One of the Specials squeezed her shoulder. “Don't worry, Tally, we'll have you home in no time.”

The other chimed in. “We've been looking for this bunch for years.”

“Yeah, good work.”

IN CASE OF DAMAGE

They took her to the library. It had been transformed into a headquarters for the invasion, the long tables filled with portable workscreens manned by Specials, its usual quiet replaced by a buzz of clipped exchanges and commands. The razor voices of the cruel pretties set Tally's teeth on edge.

Dr. Cable waited at one of the long tables. Reading an old magazine, she seemed almost relaxed, at a remove from the activity around her.

“Ah, Tally.” She bared her teeth in an attempt at a smile. “Nice to see you. Sit down.”

Tally wondered what was behind the doctor's greeting. The
Specials had treated Tally like an accomplice. Had some signal from the pendant reached them before she had destroyed it?

In any case, her only chance of escape was to play along. She pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Goodness. Look at you,” Dr. Cable said. “For someone who wants to be a pretty, you're always such a sight.”

“I've had a rough morning.”

“You seem to have been in a scrape.”

Tally shrugged. “I was just trying to get out of the way.”

“Indeed.” Dr. Cable placed the magazine facedown on the table. “That's something you don't seem to be very good at.”

Tally coughed twice, the last bit of pepper leaving her lungs. “I guess not.”

Dr. Cable glanced at her workscreen. “I see we had you among the resistors?”

“Some of the Smokies already suspected me. So when I heard you guys coming, I tried to get out of town. I didn't want to be around when everyone realized what was happening. In case they got mad at me.”

“Self-preservation. Well, at least you're good at something.”

“I didn't ask to come here.”

“No, and you took your time, too.” Dr. Cable leaned back, making a steeple of her long, thin fingers. “How long have you been here exactly?”

Tally forced herself to cough again, wondering if she dared lie. Her voice, still harsh and uneven from inhaling the pepper, wasn't
likely to give her away. And although Dr. Cable's office back in the city might be one big lie detector, this table and chair were solid wood, without any tricks inside.

But Tally hedged. “Not that long.”

“You didn't get here as quickly as I'd hoped.”

“I almost didn't make it at all. And when I did, it was ages after my birthday. That's why they suspected me.”

Dr. Cable shook her head. “I suppose I should have been worried about you, out in the wild all alone. Poor Tally.”

“Thanks for your concern.”

“I'm sure you would have used the pendant if you'd gotten into any real trouble. Self-preservation being your one skill.”

Tally sneered. “Unless I'd fallen off a cliff. Which almost happened.”

“We still would have come for you. If the pendant had been damaged, it would have sent a signal automatically.”

The words sunk in slowly:
If the pendant had been damaged . . .
Tally gripped the edge of the table, trying not to show any emotion.

Dr. Cable narrowed her eyes. She might not have machines to read Tally's voice and heartbeat and sweat, but her own perceptions were alert. She'd chosen those words to provoke a reaction. “Speaking of which, where is it?”

Tally's fingers went to her neck. Of course, Dr. Cable had noticed the pendant's absence immediately. Her questions had been leading to this moment. Tally's brain raced for an answer. The handcuffs were off. She had to get out of there, to the trading post. Hopefully, her hoverboard still lay on the roof, unfolded and
charging in the morning sun. “I hid it,” she said. “I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Last night, after I was sure this really was the Smoke, I activated the pendant. But they have this thing that detects bugs. They found the one on my board—the one you put there without telling me.”

Dr. Cable smiled, spreading her hands helplessly.

“That almost blew the whole thing,” Tally continued. “So after I activated the pendant, I got scared they'd know a transmission had been sent. I hid it, in case they came looking.”

“I see. A certain amount of intelligence sometimes accompanies a strong sense of self-preservation. I'm glad you decided to help us.”

“Like I had a choice?”

“You always had a choice, Tally. But you made the right choice. You decided to come here and find your friend, to save her from a life of being ugly. You should be happy about that.”

“I'm thrilled.”

“So pugnacious, you uglies. Well, you'll be growing up soon.”

A chill went down Tally's spine at the words. To Dr. Cable, “growing up” meant having your brain changed.

“There's just one more thing you have to do for me, Tally. Do you mind getting the pendant from where you've hidden it? I don't like to leave loose ends lying around.”

Tally smiled. “I'd be happy to.”

“This officer will accompany you.” Dr. Cable lifted a finger, and a Special appeared at her side. “And just to keep you safe from
your Smokey friends, we'll make it look like you've been a brave resistor.”

The Special pulled Tally's hands together behind her back, and she felt plastic bite into her wrists again.

She took a breath, her pulse pounding in her head, then forced herself to say, “Whatever.”

•  •  •

“This way.”

Tally led the Special toward the trading post, taking in the situation. The Smoke had been beaten into silence. Fires were left to burn freely. Some were already exhausted, clouds of smoke still rising from the blackened wood and swirling through the camp.

A few faces turned to look up with suspicion at Tally. She was the only Smokey still walking around. Everyone else was on the ground, handcuffed and under guard, most of them gathered near the rabbit pen.

She tried to give those who saw her a grim smile, hoping they noticed that she was handcuffed just like they were.

When they reached the trading post, Tally looked up. “I hid it on the roof.”

The Special eyed the building suspiciously. “All right, then,” he said. “You wait here. Sit down and don't stand up.”

She shrugged, kneeling carefully.

The Special swung himself onto the roof with an ease that made Tally shiver. How was she going to overcome this cruel pretty? Even if her hands weren't tied, he was bigger, stronger, faster.

A moment later, his head stuck out over the edge. “Where is it?”

“Under the rapchuck.”

“The what?”

“The
rapchuck.
You know, the old-fashioned thingie where the roofline connects with the abbersnatch.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It's Smokey slang, I guess. Let me show you.”

A fleeting expression crossed the Special's impassive face—annoyance mixed with suspicion. But he leaped down again and stacked a couple of crates. He jumped onto them and pulled Tally up, sitting her on the edge of the roof as if she weighed nothing. “You touch one of those hoverboards, I'll put you on your face,” he threatened casually.

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