Ian shakes his head at every proposed project, wishing to do something that will make a more crucial impact. “Something more basic, like feeding the hungry.”
“Right. Who’s hungry in Boston?” Shane says, and pops one of Dorian’s cookies into his mouth.
“Non-pacts for starters,” Ian answers.
There’s a brief hush, like Ian’s treading on dangerous ground. We’re in the Secretary of Security’s house, after all, whose job it is to contain and restrict them.
Shane shakes his head. “Don’t start in on that again, Ian. We’re talking about projects for real citizens. No way I’m going to flea-infested dumps to help a bunch of lawbreakers.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Cece says, eager to show that she’s on Ian’s side. “It might get some of us out of our comfort zone, Shane.”
“I don’t need to get out of my comfort zone, Miss Cece Carrington, who arrived here with her own entourage, who are still waiting downstairs for her, including her own personal driver, assistant, and bodyguard.”
Cece’s cheeks tinge pink and she looks down at her lap.
I chance a quick glance at Raine to see her response to Ian’s idea, but she remains silent, nearly frozen, like the idea terrifies her. Is that because she’s afraid she’ll run into the woman who threw her away, or because she thinks that all Non-pacts are animals?
They continue to argue and toss out more ideas until they have it down to four, including Ian’s. They agree to go on a group expedition on Friday to various sites for further research. I’ll be able to see Raine in the light of day at last. Ian suggests meeting at the PAT but Cece blushes again, saying her parents won’t allow it. We will have to take her car. For the first time Ian seems aware of Cece and her discomfort and nods. Raine says she cannot go before eleven o’clock because of her fencing practice. The others agree that eleven works best for them too.
“What about you, Locke? Is eleven all right?” Vina asks.
I resist the urge to look at Raine and keep my eyes focused on Vina instead. “I think I can move my other studies around it,” I answer. Vina flashes me a seductive smile and I wonder how I’ll avoid her clutches in Cece’s car.
In spite of Shane’s obviously watchful eye on me for the rest of the evening, I still manage to catch a moment alone with Raine in the foyer before we all leave.
“I’ll see you tonight,” she whispers.
“No, don’t take a chance,” I tell her. “Your father—”
“I’ll be there,” she says.
Her eyes are desperate and determined. There isn’t time to talk her out of it and I’m not sure I could anyway. All I know for sure is that I want to hold her, kiss her, to relive last night right this minute, but I don’t dare. Someone could walk into the foyer any second, and someone does. Shane. I offer a few cool parting comments to Raine for Shane’s benefit and step into the elevator, which has just opened.
Shane follows right behind me and voices the command for the door to close before anyone else can enter. “You did me a favor at the club the other night,” he says. “I always return my favors, so here’s a tip for you.”
I raise my eyebrows, waiting.
“Steer clear. Raine’s spoken for.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“And now you do.”
I look at him. And look. I look at him so long his entitled weasel face twitches.
“Thanks for the tip,” I finally say. The elevator door opens and I leave. Like Father, like Son. I’m not surprised.
I stop halfway through the lobby and grab an apple from the bowl I saw as I entered and turn back to throw it to him.
“Shane. Catch. This one’s yours.” I volley it across the lobby, and as I expected, he misses. He misses a lot. It’s the twenty-fourth century. Women aren’t spoken for, especially not Raine.
Out of the Comfort Zone
I stand in the shadows of the underground lot of the Tudor Apartments waiting for Cece’s car to arrive. I’m early, eager to see Raine again, even though we parted only a few hours ago. The last few nights … I’m not sure how I’ll make it through today without touching her. And then last night—
I swallow. Get it out of your mind, Locke. Focus. But my mind jumps right back to her, the shadows of the parking garage becoming the shadows of the cathedral, the muted stained glass of midnight, the echoes, the pews we lay on, the sweet scent of candles, the sweet scent of her neck, our whispers. As dawn neared it was harder than ever for either of us to leave, to go back to our other way of living. To the pretending.
For those few hours I forgot about her being the daughter of the Secretary. Forgot about the threats, the Network. Forgot about who I was, who I had become. I was just Locke. She was just Raine. Rebecca. Someone who was sharing her most sacred place with me. A place of believing. I believed with her.
I feel a pinch at my waist and I whirl. Raine smiles. I swear she must have hidden wings she can move so silently. I glance around, looking for the nugget-head, but for the moment we’re alone and I quickly take a chance and kiss her, knowing it will likely be my last opportunity of the day.
My timing has become impeccable. Two seconds later, Hap appears at the garage stairway with Shane at his side. They walk toward us. Raine and I casually step apart like we aren’t even aware of each other’s presence.
Shane inserts himself between us. “Cece’s late as usual, I see.”
“Why didn’t you just have her pick you up at your own place?” I ask.
“Why didn’t you?” he returns.
“I was already in the area.”
He smiles. “As was I.”
It’s going to be a long day.
Cece arrives with Vina and Ian already in the car, a long black job with four rows of seats, a modern-day stretch limo that I imagine still sucks up fuel like a thirsty dragon—even if it is algae-based energy. Her family has to be loaded to get away with transportation like that. Maybe this is what the Secretary aspires to. Government pay, even when you’re raking in untold kickbacks from government contractors, still has to be limiting for someone of his ambitions. Hap doesn’t come with us. Apparently Cece’s bodyguard was deemed sufficient protection for all of us. I manage to get a seat opposite Vina, though she stretches out her foot to keep connecting with mine.
Our first stop is the riverfront. The abatement walls are indeed ugly. I almost want to suggest graffiti as a way to improve them, but I doubt that spray cans exist anymore and don’t want to even try to explain what that kind of art is. The walls were placed at the high-water mark before water levels began to recede slightly due to decades of global regulations. I look beyond these walls to the ones below that hem in the river now. Still large and still ugly, I wonder if they’ll ever be able to get rid of those too. Cece performs measurements and density tests to help analyze the cost of removal. Ian shows only cursory interest in the walls, which I have to admit are crumbling and being taken back by the earth anyway. Based on my estimates, they’ll be gone in another few hundred years, though unlike me, most people don’t have that kind of time to burn.
I try to feign interest. Notes are talked onto virtual tablets and added to measurements and videos and we all climb back into the car.
Next we stop at an experimental dance academy, then an improv studio, and finally, due to Shane’s continuing insistence, the waterfront public tour kiosks. We get out of the car and walk past three, finally stopping at the wharf. No one speaks. Vina shields her eyes from the sun, looking at gulls overhead. Cece leans over the rail, looking at the water lapping below. Raine sits on a bench in the shade, her bored mask firmly in place. Disinterest is worn like a badge by everyone. Shane walks over and sits close to Raine, draping his arm behind her on the bench. I suddenly feel like Hap, wanting to cross over to him in three steps and lift him by the throat. He shoots me a smile, almost a dare, like he can read my mind.
Don’t touch her, pig.
“Well, I think that we have a win
ner,” he says, breaking the silence. He goes on to proclaim his suggestion as the clear project choice and estimates that the ratio of tourists to Tour Bots is a hundred to one.
“How’d you come up with that number?” Ian asks.
“I eyed it.”
“Who cares anyway?” Cece asks.
“The Collective will, for one. It would benefit the most Citizens. We want this thing approved don’t we?”
“We aren’t finished yet,” I say. “We still have another stop.”
“No we don’t,” Shane says. “The Non-pact suggestion was stricken as an option.”
Ian steps forward. “By who?”
“If you must know, the Secretary himself. He said it was an inappropriate proposal. And of course, he’s right.”
Raine swallows. Her expression has gone from bored to alert.
Ian glares at Shane. “And just how did he find out about it?”
Shane shrugs.
I take a deep breath. And then another, my eyes drilling into Shane. Don’t let the enemy push you before you’re ready.
I’m ready.
“So, that’s not stopping us, right?” I say, pasting on a cheerful smile. “All projects don’t have to be on Collective time. I’m still in.”
There’s a brief moment of shocked silence before Vina chimes in, “Me too!”
“But—”
“You’re right,” Ian says. “We can do it on our own. I’m in.”
“Wait a—”
“Me three!” Cece says.
Shane is still sputtering half-finished objections, but Raine has remained noticeably silent.
“What about you, Raine? In or out?” I ask.
She looks down at her lap and shakes her head and finally whispers, “I can’t.”
I feel a brief flash of anger. She’s always so strong. Why can’t she be strong for this? But watching her face slowly harden and disconnect brings a wave of guilt too. She has moved into her default survival mode. I know I pushed her further than I should have. She has more to lose than any of us. We don’t have to live with the Secretary, and thanks to me, she already pushed her limits with him a few nights ago. It wasn’t fair for me to push her again.
“No problem,” I say. “We’ll drop you and Shane off before we go to the shelter.”
“Shelter?” Ian says. “There are no shelters for Non-pacts. They aren’t allowed. We need to go straight to the source—their neighborhoods.”
I try not to act overly surprised, but my mind is racing. Flea-infested dumps. That’s what Shane called them. A shelter was never mentioned. Why had I assumed something like a soup kitchen or a local Y for the indigent? All Non-pacts are indigent and they’re meant to stay that way—indigent and invisible, kept far from the respectable citizens in their own run-down neighborhoods. Neighborhoods like Xavier’s where they know me, and probably the closest Non-pact neighborhood to where we are right now. I’ve made a strategic error.
“Let’s go,” Vina says. She turns to Raine. “Can’t you two take the PAT home so we don’t have to drop you off?”
Raine glances at me, a hint of shame and hurt on her face, but she quickly sweeps it away and with her trademark indifference looks back at Vina. “Of course. See you all tomorrow.” She turns and walks away without any more good-byes. Shane follows after her.
Vina grabs my arm. “Come on, Locke.”
But I keep my eyes on Raine, hoping and wishing as she begins to get lost in the crowds. Vina pulls on my arm again and I’m just about to turn away when I see Raine stop. She simply stops, looking down at the sidewalk. Shane is babbling something to her, but she shakes her head like she’s blocking him out. And then she turns. She looks in our direction and begins walking back, and stops in front of me. Her pupils are pinpoints, panic filling them, and her breaths are uneven, but still her chin juts out like she’s in control. “I’ll go along. This once.”
* * *
We step out of the car. “This way,” Ian says. We walk down the alley in the direction he points. Shane is nervous. Good. This is definitely not in his comfort zone. I hope he shakes himself into oblivion. He doubled back and followed Raine when she changed her mind. He had an unexpected change of heart too. Only morbid curiosity, he clarified.
Raine didn’t speak the whole way. She just stared through the window like everything out there was suddenly so interesting. But I watched her eyes. She didn’t see a thing—at least nothing the rest of us could see. Now she walks between Cece and Vina, still not speaking, in spite of Vina asking a hundred questions. What will we say if we run into someone? Do we interview them? Find out what their income is? Ask if they’re hungry?
“Let’s just start with hello,” Ian suggests.
Before we piled into the car, I pretended I had a call from my mother and stepped away from the others. I tried to reach Xavier but he didn’t answer, so I left a message warning him that I might be showing up in his neighborhood with the A Group and that no one should recognize me. I’m hoping he got the message because that’s exactly where we are now—walking down the alley to Xavier’s courtyard. Ian had already scouted out neighborhoods, not knowing the Secretary had nixed this project. Population and distance made this the best choice in his opinion, in spite of me trying to sway him elsewhere.
Cece’s bodyguard walks with us—seven feet of black metal and menace. She tried to persuade him to stay behind when she saw Ian frown, but unlike Raine with Hap, she couldn’t override his orders. We turn at the dead end of the alley and I hold my breath, but the courtyard is empty.
Everyone takes in the grim surroundings, the boarded-up windows, the couches and chairs scavenged from Citizens’ trash, piles of broken shutters, doors, and other wood foraged from crumbling buildings for fuel, the cold embers of the fire ring at the center of it all used for light and warmth in the night. It’s dismal and bleak. Even with my memories of a few nights ago, a bright crackling fire, music, laughter, I’m overwhelmed by what I see. Now there are no dancing evening shadows to disguise the stark truth. This is the day-to-day harsh reality for Xavier and people like him. People like me.
We pause on the perimeter, only the occasional scuff of grit beneath our feet making any noise at all in the deserted courtyard. I look at Raine. Her eyes have focused on a child’s toy, a soiled baby doll lying on the ground, perhaps left in haste.
“Are you sure that we’re in the right place?” Cece asks. “This does not look like a neighborhood to me. Just some old abandoned buildings.”
I’m wondering myself where everyone is. Hiding? Looking out at us from behind dark windows? And then the silence is broken. A child runs out, oblivious to our presence, and grabs the baby doll from the ground.
Vina gasps.
The Menace steps forward.
I put my arm out to stop him. “It’s just a kid.”
“Thieves, same as the rest,” Shane says.
A young woman runs out the door after the child. “Alessa! Come back!” She spots us across the courtyard and stops.
“Hello,” Ian calls.
The little girl looks up and smiles. “Mommy, they’re here!”
The woman glances nervously at me and then back to her daughter. I hold my breath hoping the entire exchange goes unnoticed. It seems to, only because this whole environment is so foreign to everyone else that it’s all strange. It’s a lot to take in at once. Ian approaches the woman and we follow and soon others come outside to see these odd strangers who have entered their neighborhood. By now, they can see we’re not part of the Security Force. Several mothers with small children on their hips and clinging to their clothing talk with us. One of them is Xavier’s wife. She must have gotten my message and spread the word. Until the child ran out, they probably planned to avoid us entirely. She purposely dodges my gaze. But the conversations are easy, smoother than expected and lasting five, ten, fifteen minutes, both sides appearing to be intrigued by the other.
Raine hangs back, avoiding any conversation
at all. She only watches as more people emerge from the dilapidated buildings. She watches Vina and Cece from a distance as they talk with two women and an older man, watches as the children play games around their feet. She’s silent, examining their faces, and then seems to breathe again when no one looks anything like her. She stares at one thin woman who chats with Ian, tired lines fanning out from the corners of the woman’s eyes and her hair graying prematurely. A sleepy toddler rests on her shoulder, patting her mother’s back with tiny dimpled fingers.
I step closer to Raine, away from the others. “Not what you expected, is it?” I whisper.
“We should go,” she says.
“What are you afraid of, Raine?”
She shakes her head, refusing to answer. I know what she’s afraid of and right now it isn’t her father. “They aren’t animals, Raine. They never were.”
We hear Ian thanking them for their time and the others saying their good-byes and they all turn to leave. A small girl runs a few steps toward us and waves at Raine. The girl stands there waiting with a shy expectant smile. Raine hesitantly lifts her hand and waves back. The girl giggles and then looks straight at me saying, “Bye, Locke!” before she runs away.
Raine turns to me, confused. “I didn’t hear you tell her your name.”
“Yes, I did,” I answer, with a reply that comes a beat too fast. “When we first got here.”
“Oh.”
I hear the doubt in her voice. Even now, I know she’s retracing our steps through the courtyard, knowing she was distracted, but always aware of where I was and who I spoke to. Raine doesn’t miss much. I’m wondering if I should try to explain further, but too much explanation can backfire, and right now I’m a ten on the trust meter. I decide to ride that and let her chalk it up to distraction.