I reach the station, sneak in the back way to the small break room, and check the roster. Two interns wait for their partners while absorbed in their wrist-coms. My partner, Brooks, is out on patrol. Then I remember she’s no longer my partner. She’s with Janine, who signed on five days a week to get out of basketball practice.
I wander through the bullpen full of metal desks, and no cops. Is it another riot, a new breakout, or are they still after the Michael’s boys? What can I do while I wait?
Voss’ puppy, Lieutenant Scarlatti, intercepts me at Brooks’ desk. “Keeping your own hours now?”
I hate how she checks up on me, as if I’m a child. “We caught a green-collar on the run. I called it in and had to wait until mech cops came.”
“Likely excuse. We’ll see. Lucky for you Captain Voss is out.”
“I came to see if Brooks had anything for me.”
“She had to respond to a call. Since you were late, she grabbed Janine.” Now that Scarlatti has scored her points, she returns to her office.
What am I supposed to do without a partner? I can’t go out on patrol. There’s no other partner I want, certainly not Scarlatti. Besides, why break in an intern who’s leaving? I scan in so I’ll get credit toward my minimal intern pay.
I’m glad Scarlatti didn’t assign me cleanup detail. I need to get out of sight before she remembers. Then it occurs to me: the captain’s computer might have access to private records, and she’s out. I might not get another chance to search for my birth mother.
I dig around the inner pocket of my skorts, past the illegal mech pills. My fingers rest on the chip with encrypted files on where my birth mother was during her first years in prison. It also has a copy of Lieutenant Scarlatti’s access codes.
I head for the break room, detour to the small gym, and sneak up the back stairs to the small lobby controlled by Liz Cameron, special assistant to Voss the Boss. Liz drinks too much decaf coffee and has a weak bladder. Now that she’s pregnant, she spends even more time in the bathroom. She’s away from her desk again.
The captain’s door is closed. I hurry over and find it unlocked. I slip inside, close the door, and shrink behind the big oak desk into Voss’ cushy easy chair. I’m not proud of what I’m doing, but it’s my way of staying connected to my birth mother.
I find Voss’ security fob in her bottom desk drawer–sloppy security–and enter Scarlatti’s access codes into the captain’s security box. It isn’t unusual for the lieutenant to use the captain’s access, since hers is limited. Nor would it be unusual for her to research an intern outside normal channels while the captain was out. So far, so good.
Onto the virtual screen above the oak desk, I enter my birth mother’s name: Dorothy Montgomery. I wait. Somewhere over the rainbow is a better place for her. But that’s only a fairy tale. A file comes up, giving particulars of her arrest. She helped an unnamed man escape from prison and again from the mech arena. I know it’s my dad, even though they erased his connection. They don’t want me to know.
Dorothy received a trial. The prosecution presented evidence that she supplied guns to rebel Outlanders, helped several escape, withheld information that could have helped capture rebel leaders, and betrayed the Federal Union. The defense argued each point while presenting no evidence to refute the prosecution. I don’t believe any of this except that my birth mother helped my dad escape and was torn from my arms when I was three. Bet the Union doesn’t know I know.
Under “examination,” which I interpret as torture, Dorothy admitted to the crimes and received a life sentence in lieu of execution as a traitor. This is bullshit. They sent her to Oak Ridge Maximum Security Prison west of Knoxville.
Defense counsel petitioned to reverse her conviction. She attempted to escape. Way to go, girl.
They moved Dorothy to a prison in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Another escape. They moved her to Florida. Another attempt. Then they sealed her records. Even the captain can’t access these.
“I’ll have to lock my office from now on.” Red-faced, Voss the Boss fills the lower part of the doorway with her rotund figure.
Scrambling, I close my search and purge temp files. I hope I’ve concealed my purpose. “Files downstairs don’t show much on the Outland and why boys are so eager to go,” I say.
“Get the hell out of my seat before I put you behind bars. How dare you?”
I consider complimenting her comfy chair as I scoot around the oak desk, ditching my chip and pills in the dirt of the potted hibiscus plants. “Sorry, Captain. I was curious.” I scoot for the door.
Voss blocks the way. “Empty your purse and pockets.”
My blue vinyl purse is tiny, with a thin wallet, plain lipstick for chapped lips, tissues, and a stylus for my wrist-com. I empty those onto a corner of her polished oak desk and stand back while Voss examines each item. She looks through the wallet with my ID. It lists me as student with restricted travel privileges and cop intern with a few more. The chip can relay that to any of a million scanners around town, and at entry to public transport and cab services that enforce travel limitations. Does my mech implant override those?
While eyeing me, Voss fiddles her fat fingers on her wrist-com. Got to let my school and Sam know of my disharmony. “Now your pockets.”
I show Voss my empty blouse pocket. I turn out two pockets of my skorts with a used tissue and some sugarless, tasteless gum for when my throat gets dry. I turn up my nose when she examines the tissue for vital national secrets among the germs.
The bloodhound, Voss the Boss, gives me her victory grin. “Now empty that inside pocket.”
I release the skorts clasp and zipper. I show Voss that the inside pocket has only my access cards for the station, my home, and the mech base, all marked. I’m forming an apology in my head when I remember that Mom says it’s best to be seen, not heard, when questioned. I wonder how she developed such instincts.
As Voss looks away and closes the door, I retrieve the pills and chip, tucking them into my inner pocket before I fasten up. Then I collect the contents of my purse and hang my head.
“Paperwork has you leaving for Hollander’s Resocialization Facility in Nashville today,” Voss says. “The state has other plans. I hope the mechs have better luck with you than I’ve had. You’re a grave disappointment, an embarrassment to your family, your school, and your colleagues here on the force. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’m sorry, Captain. I won’t let it happen again.” There’s nothing more I can learn here, anyway.
Voss scans her computer files. “Not good enough. The Outland is forbidden territory controlled by rebels. That’s all you need to know. If you want, we can send you, like those who help runaways.” Voss grins. “They get to be whores in Biltmoor.” The Outland capital.
My stomach tightens. Is Voss capable of sending me for breaking into her office? I hang my head and maintain my stony silence.
“Has your renegade mother led you to believe burglary and theft are okay?”
Here comes the “spy on your family” bit. “No!” I catch myself before I say more. Defending the family makes it look like I have something to hide.
“Do you break into her office and read her files?”
“No!” Nothing confidential at least, just banned books and files I hoped would tell me about my parents. I’ve found nothing Mom held back and much evidence that she’s tried to help.
“You haven’t much to say for all your snooping. Has your mom taught you how to act when confronted by authority?”
I shake my head and pray I don’t betray Mom with a wrong answer. “I live in a communal home. I’ve been taught harmony by living there.” And rebelliousness at being told how to live.
“You seem defensive. Have you been interrogated often? Of course you have, by Harmony Director Surroc.”
I hold my face so tightly blank, it’s ready to fracture. I need the interrogation to end before I say something that hurts Mom. It’s standard practice to get kids to betray family, which is why Mom keeps so many secrets even from Mama Helen and Mama Grace. Why she confides in me is a mystery. I figure it’s because I won’t leave the past alone. Burned into my soul is that single moment when my birth mother was torn away. Perhaps Mom thinks conspiring will keep me from doing something really stupid, like opening my mouth.
“I’m embarrassed and terribly sorry,” I say. “Brooks was gone. I came to see what I could do for you. Liz was out. Your door was open. My curiosity took over.”
There’s a knock at the door. Voss probably wants to find a way to force the state to pull me from mechs and send me to Nashville. Instead, she opens the door. Mom stands there, her face filled with anger and distress. It’s public humiliation time.
I hang my head lower. “I’ve shamed myself and my family. I’m so mortified, Mom.”
Voss looks flustered. “Take this thing out of my sight before I throw her into jail.”
Mom grabs my wrist and drags me out of Voss’ office, down the stairs, and out into the parking lot without a word. I want to die, which is the point of this exercise. I’ve caused Voss to call Mom away from work to deal with her troublesome daughter again. I didn’t even learn anything.
When we’re in Mom’s car, I buckle up, thankful I retained my chip. I don’t want to lose all my research, what little it tells me. “I’m a terrible embarrassment. I didn’t mean–”
“Cut the tripe, Belle. I’m angry with you for putting yourself in danger again. What was it this time? And why anger Captain Voss?”
“I tried to use the police database to find Dorothy Montgomery.” I say her name so I won’t forget her. “Voss was out. I thought she might have better access.”
“And?” Mom pulls out of the parking lot and parks next to my cycle.
“Nothing you haven’t told me except a pack of lies. Even the captain can’t access recent files.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you, Belle. Was it worth all this?”
“I hate that they keep her from me. I mean no disrespect, Mom. I couldn’t love you more if you were my birth mother. It’s just–they took her and it’s not right.”
“No, it’s not, but you know what they can do to you if you push this. Please don’t.”
Guilt worms its way into my gut. “Why aren’t you mad at me for breaking in?”
“I know why you did it, Belle. I wish I could make this right. Promise me you’ll drop it and let me keep digging.”
“I’ll try.” I stifle a sob. I hate how I’ve hurt Mom and have nothing to show for it.
“That’s all I ask. I want to find her, too. Dorothy was a dear friend, but even that can put us at risk. Few people know. The governor will do anything to make sure she doesn’t resurface.”
“And you, Mom?”
“I’ll continue to do what I can. Please be more careful.”
“What about Morgan?” I ask.
“I told you not to bring him up again.”
“Mom, please.”
“He’s safe for now.”
I nod. “I had to arrest another boy today. I would rather help you and–”
“We’re done talking about this. Now go.”
But I want to help.
* * *
I decide to spend the weekend at the mech base. It’ll let me avoid the shame I’ve brought my family, and I won’t have to listen to Therese gloating over how much better a daughter she is. I’d rather sleep outside in the bushes.
Sitting on my electric cycle, I watch Mom drive off. I don’t know if I’m lucky that she understands or cursed that she isn’t tougher on me. I’m ready to drive off and unwind along the quiet road to the base when Brooks drives up in her tiny gray two-seater. I have to laugh at how ridiculous she looks in that undersized squad car, while Scarlatti gets a four-seat sedan.
Janine crawls out of the passenger seat and joins me.
Brooks gets out and looks relaxed, her face less creased than when she works with me. “She’s an easy student. Not that I don’t miss the excitement of your company. She’s done for the day. I’ll clock her.”
“Thanks.” I smile, happy that things are working out for my sister.
Janine climbs on behind me and whispers, “Thanks for letting me partner with Brooks. She’s great. I’m sorry. I should have asked. Can you give me a lift?”
Her arms tighten around my waist. I couldn’t say no if I wanted to. I ease out behind a bus full of women at shift’s end. “Brooks is a good mentor.”
“I’m sorry I took her from you.”
I don’t have the heart to tell Janine that Voss wants to send me to Nashville. She still might if I fail mech training, which is another reason I’ll spend the weekend on the base. I can’t afford to fail.
“I’m not going home,” I tell her.
“But Mom might be there. I’ve been so worried.”
“Mom’s okay. I spoke with her. When you get home you’ll see for yourself. I’m going to the base. I have stuff to learn by Monday.”
“Then I’m going with you.”
“Not this time, Babe.”
“I’ve never been. You could show me around.”
“Not tonight.”
I drop Janine off a block from our home so the family won’t see me.
She hugs me like we’ll never meet again. “I’ll miss you, Belle. Hurry home. I’ll put cream on your wounds.”
“I’m not fighting tonight,” I say. “Now go, before I have to explain this to everyone else.”
Janine pouts, but she goes. I wait down the street until I see her enter the townhouse.