15

October 30

Selah walked around the great room picking up her training gear and bag, late for a training session again. Mojica and Taraji would be coming to find her any minute.

A stampede of children’s feet filled the hallway and spilled into the great room. Rylla thundered through with Dane behind her. They both fell on top of Selah, laughing and giggling.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be in classes?” Selah tickled Rylla under the arms. The child rolled away in laughter. She reached for Dane next, who became a mass of wriggling arms and legs, trying to avoid tickles.

“Mother has appointments to nurse indignant people,” Dane said as he squealed and squirmed from Selah’s grasp.

“No, you dumb boy.” Rylla smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. “I’ve told you before. The word is indigent, not indignant. They are poor people, not angry people.” She wrinkled her nose and flipped a hand back and forth. “Well, they may be angry because they’re poor, but that’s not the point. Right now they’re just poor.”

“Hey! I don’t want you calling Dane names. He isn’t dumb, and neither are you, Miss Vocabulary Word Star,” Selah said as she hugged them close. Both children had blossomed despite the circumstances and become quite adept at spotting people who could be dangerous to Selah. Pasha had been vocal in her reservations, but both children were being trained in self-defense by Mojica and Taraji in case they ever got separated from the family.

“Selah, how can there be poor people in a place like this?” Rylla snuggled into Selah’s right side while Dane burrowed in on the left.

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

Late. The indictment flashed at her like an ancient road sign. The kids were just another pleasant diversion to keep her from the fruitless training sessions. Selah disentangled herself from the snuggle session, shoved the gear in her bag, and slung it over her shoulder.

Dane snickered. “Mother says they are really poor people, like sleeping-in-straw poor—”

“Dane! It’s not nice to laugh at people down on their luck.”

The boy lowered his head. His eyes darted around, searching for an escape route. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am.” A smile played at the corners of his mouth.

Selah sauntered to the door without another good reason to hesitate. She grabbed the old-fashioned silver door handle. “Be sure to get your assignments done, and stop calling me ma’am—that would be my mother.” She laughed and blew kisses as she closed the door behind her.

A man hurrying up the hall bumped into her gear bag, forcing her to sidestep. She grunted as she whacked the wall.

The guy turned back. “Sorry.”

Selah turned to face him. “So—”

A burlap feed sack slid down over her head and arms. Selah scrambled to force her way out as the musty cloth released a cloud of seed dust that choked off her air and caused her eyes to water. Tears slid down her cheeks, offering a blurry vision of the outside through the loose weave.

Selah shouted for help but stopped mid-yell. Screaming would draw the kids out here, where they could get hurt. A pair of large muscular arms corralled her flailing hands and clamped her arms to her sides even with her gear bag still strapped to her back. She struggled for air, coughing, panicking. She tried shallow gulps but breathing fast made her dizzy.

She leaned forward and jerked up, propelling herself backward and running the assailant into the wall. He grunted as she forced air from his chest, but he held tight. She tried to kick out backwards, but her boot only glanced across his shin and her foot slid between his legs. The guy grunted and trapped her foot between his knees. She untangled her foot and pretended to fall in the process.

Her captor held tight. For a moment he was bent at the waist, balancing her weight with her feet off the floor. They were near the wall. If she could get a foot on it, she could walk up it and flip over his head. She had broken one of Taraji’s holds using that move once.

The man who had first bumped into her charged back toward her and grabbed for her legs. Through the loose bag weave Selah made out the man’s features. A purple scar on his right cheek, scraggly facial hair. Selah kicked out, aiming for his vital organs. She made contact with a satisfying thud. He stumbled back. The man restraining her lifted her feet off the ground, giving her better leverage to kick the other man. This time her boot connected with his face. A spray of blood and saliva flew from his mouth. The man slammed into the wall, smearing the liquids as he slumped to the floor.

The captor yanked Selah back from the fallen man. He slammed her feet to the floor, sending shooting charges through her ankles. Ignore the pain. Selah flexed and pulled the guy forward. She stomped on his instep then jerked up and head-butted him with all her strength.

Selah heard his nose crack, followed by a muffled moan. The arms holding her dropped away and Selah darted off, flipping the feed sack from her head as she ran. She slid open the panic switch on her scrambler and pressed it. Nothing happened.

She looked down and pressed the button again as she ran. The pounding footsteps of her pursuers echoed in the long hallway. Where to go? Not back to the children. She shot through the lobby and into the next corridor. There was an open hallway on the right. She ran through and locked the door behind her, then navigated the long, twisting hallway.

At a cross hall, she stopped and leaned against the wall, huffing to catch her breath and coughing to rid her lungs of the seed dust. She peeled off her scrambler and held it up to the light, trying to figure out why it wouldn’t work. Had it been damaged in the scuffle? She examined the surface. The cover slid easily and the button seemed unmarred.

She gulped and coughed again. For the first time in a month she had no connection to a Keeper. She had been indignant—yes, Dane’s word was a good choice—at the requirement that she remain tethered to the Keeper like a child. Now she was scared that she wasn’t. She strapped the scrambler back on and started to walk.

Nothing looked familiar, but at least there were no footsteps following her. She could alert Mojica or Taraji—then she’d hear this was her fault because she was delinquent for practice. If she called Bodhi, it’d be the same thing because he was waiting with them. That left her to take care of herself. She’d never call the rest and put them in harm’s way. She didn’t want them called to fight for her sake.

Selah bit down on her lip. Where was she?

A door stood ajar on the right. She glanced around and snuck in. Shelves and bookcases of clear and colored data cubes ringed the wall behind a desk with a woven basket sitting on the edge. The basket held some five-sided tokens with purple centers and numbers stamped on them.

Muffled voices filtered through the wall from an unknown direction.

Selah knew better than to let herself be trapped in a room. Fear made her heart pound. Why had she stopped here? She tried to connect with the Keeper again . . . Nothing.

The corridors resembled a maze. Hallways, a door, and another turn. She saw outdoor light.

Selah ran to the door and palmed the exit screen. The door released and she stepped outside, leaning against the building in relief. The radiant sunshine warmed her face. She fingered her scrambler and slid back the cover. Her finger rested above the button. Maybe something inside had been blocking the signal.

She pushed the button. A heat wave passed in front of her face and her upper lip tingled.

Selah straightened her top and threw her workout bag in the corner by the Keeper’s desk. “What happened? Did you do that to shut me up about having privacy?”

He pulled back, a blank expression on his face. “I will be glad to help you when I know the nature of the problem.”

Selah paced in front of the desk. “You drive me crazy, for one thing. Your answers are all so clinical and exact, and you show no emotional attachment when you talk about almost sixty novarium not making it. This is my life we’re talking about here. I was assaulted when I left my family’s quarters.”

“I’m sorry my demeanor doesn’t meet your expectations. After 150 years of watching people die needlessly because a few folks couldn’t settle their internal differences, I’ve become quite calloused to the situation. And next, I leave contact up to you when I don’t have matters of importance. You said you didn’t wish to have your bio-signs monitored.” The Keeper leaned back in his rocker.

Selah skidded to a stop. “It didn’t work!” She held up her arm, slid back the lid, and pressed the button. She felt the familiar sensation of the heat wave as her upper lip tingled.

Selah was standing back in front of the Keeper when she opened her eyes. Feeling stupid for pushing the button, she gritted her teeth and charged toward the Keeper’s desk. “Well, it didn’t work the first or the second time I pushed it.”

The Keeper swung toward his mobile command panel. “I don’t see any system interruptions. When and where were you at the time?”

“The way station outside my quarters sometime in the last half hour, and even as I was running through the lobby I couldn’t reach you.” Selah’s hands started to shake. Tremors ran up her arms and down her legs. She had to lower herself to the heavy wooden seat to keep her legs from betraying her. Using the bio-system to transfer here had increased the frequency of her tremors, but after the shaking was over her muscles always seemed stronger, so she figured it was amplifying the lightning surges. But she didn’t want to share that information with the Keeper yet.

The Keeper peered over his spectacles. “Are you operating within normal parameters?”

Selah smirked. “Yes, I am in normal parameters, but I don’t think the system is. Would you please send security agents to my quarters to be sure the children are okay until my mother returns?”

“Already done. I would say this was preventable. If you had been on time to your training session a half hour ago, you wouldn’t have been in the hallway to be attacked,” the Keeper said.

“If it wasn’t today, it would have been tomorrow. There’s something going on though. It didn’t seem all that difficult to get away from them. I wonder if they’re not trying to capture me but test me for some reason.” This was her offhand announcement in case the Keeper was involved. Her trust of him only went so far, and right now it encompassed him protecting her family.

The Keeper motioned her to his desk. A video panel rose from the surface. “I pulled the feed to see what you were up against. Look.”

Selah swung the panel around. Her jaw went slack. The “easy” time had in reality been an all-out fight of technique and speed with two men about three hundred pounds each. Watching a playback of her speed on a digi-screen and experiencing it were two separate things. She was moving twice as fast as she’d thought.

She turned to the Keeper. “Is this normal? I mean, for me to be moving that fast and fighting that hard?” She stared at her hands, turning them over. “I don’t look or feel different.”

“Yes, it is very normal. You will reach your peak in two months, so until then you must train to stretch the new muscle abilities and tensions. There is much knowledge here that will be easy for you to assimilate in your accelerated growing stage. Mojica, Taraji, and even Bodhi are working very hard and—”

“And I need to face it.” She winced. “I’ve come to the end of the training I can do with them. I’ve even been holding punches so I don’t hurt any of them.” Selah felt her cheeks warming. She had told him more about her strength than she wanted to.

The Keeper looked over his glasses. “I wondered when you’d ask to move beyond your friends in training. Very well, the earliest I can set up an all-day combat session will be the day after tomorrow.”

Selah swiped up her gear bag and moved toward the wall. “Great. Then I’ll see you in a couple days. My brain needs a rest from learning.” She offered her most delicate one-handed wave while her brain raced with the step forward she had just taken. It did feel logical at the moment. If she didn’t offer the Keeper more trust, she wouldn’t be able to learn the training that would serve her in the future.

The Keeper swiped over the signal to send her back.

Selah entered the great room out of thin air. The kids enjoyed seeing her appear that way, but her mother, not so much. Lucky for Selah the only occupant at the moment was Mari.

“You’ve got to let me try that one of these days.” Mari sat on the long seating area with her legs tucked up under her.

“I don’t know if the Keeper would appreciate riders, but I’ll ask,” Selah said as she strolled over to the seating unit and dropped her bag beside it. “The kids said you and Mother are taking care of the indigent. How does someone become indigent in the dome?”

Mari leaned a leg up on the seat cushion so she could turn to face Selah. “They’re the people who have sick family members.”

“But they get yearly doses of STORM. They shouldn’t be getting sick.”

“That’s the dirty little secret of this place. Years ago the pills used to keep all disease and sickness away, but not now. The pill strength is going down, and they are adding weeks to each handout period. People are aging and disease is getting a foothold.”

Selah knew the same story, but the Keeper had acted like it was a secret. “How did you find out?”

Mari jerked around. “Find out? So you knew? You knew this was happening and you didn’t say anything to us?”

Selah held up both hands. “I have enough to worry about with getting us all out of here safely. Besides, I’m still not sure how far we can trust the Keeper I’m working with. Sometimes he seems helpful but at other times I worry if he’s part of the problem.”

“But there’s a bunch of talk at the clinic that these Keepers are corrupt,” Mari said.

Selah sat next to her sister. “Give me a reason why Keepers would do anything like this.”

“There’s talk that life in Brook Heights is very expensive, and the elite folks are willing to pay for more STORM. So the Keepers are stealing it from the poor and selling it to the rich.”

Selah sat back on the seat. She could see that happening. If she didn’t succeed to the Third Protocol, this society would become almost extinct. She wondered how many Keepers were here and how far they’d go to keep themselves alive. “We don’t know anything about this world. What you’re saying could be possible, but on just hearsay, you’re asking me to lock horns with the only person who has the ability to get us out of here safely. I’d need solid evidence before I could act, and then I don’t know what we could do about it.”

“Well, to hear those at the clinic talk about it, there’s all kinds of evidence. They say Keepers have sold novarium to Blood Hunters. That’s why so many have disappeared and none have ever made it.”

Selah frowned. “How many novarium disappeared?” She knew from the Keeper how many had passed through, but he hadn’t said anything about disappearances.

“Dozens!” Mari spread her hands. “Multiple dozens. And I hate to tell you, sister, but when we’re talking wealth and power among Keepers, the one you got is the king Keeper!”

“So then who do we trust here? Brejian is not on my top favorites list. But please don’t tell Bodhi. I don’t want to deal with his ‘I told you so’s.’” Selah’s head swirled with the list of uncertainties just in this one place.

The front door opened and Bodhi strolled in looking none too happy. Selah knew it was because she hadn’t shown up for training.

He walked across the room and sat in front of Selah with arms crossed. “We waited for you, but when you didn’t show we finished the second part of the exercise. You’ll need to play catch-up tomorrow.”

Selah didn’t want to face him. She tried to laugh it off. “The Keeper wants me to try a new program to test some emerging abilities. So yay! He gave me a couple days off until it starts. I bet this training is going to be brutal.” She pretended to roll her eyes and frown. With this new information from Mari, was it a good idea to let the Keeper segregate her to private training?

Bodhi pressed his lips together and lowered his head. “I guess we’ve become inadequate at teaching you.” Selah could see the hurt in his eyes.

“No, that’s not it,” Selah lied. “He just thinks I know all of your moves and need someone I can’t second-guess.” Her face warmed. She always blushed when she told stories.

The need to get away from Bodhi grew stronger. Selah started to rise from her seat.

The front door opened and Brejian hurried in. “I’m sorry I’m late.” She appeared disheveled. Half of her shirt hung loose at the waist. Selah gestured to it, and Brejian used nervous hands to tuck everything in and smooth her hair.

Selah wasn’t all that friendly with the woman, but she was a distraction from Bodhi’s angry gaze. She leaned over the arm of the chair so she could look around Bodhi. “Since they moved you out of the way station and into permanent quarters, you’ve been getter later every day. I think you need to get in earlier at night or start sharing the fun.”

“You both need to take this more seriously,” Bodhi said, glaring at Selah and Brejian. “We’re only here for a few months, and every minute counts for getting Selah prepared.”

Brejian jerked a glance in his direction. “Excuse me, sir, but my job was supplying you with the Repository files in return for a ride. Selah got the files and I am here. End of discussion.”

“Then why are you here around us?” Bodhi asked.

“Pasha asked me to research some information, and despite your rude demeanor I agreed to help her.” Brejian glared back at Bodhi.

“Easy, you two,” Selah said, raising her hands.

Bodhi stabbed a finger at Brejian. “In plain language, I don’t trust you.” Selah watched the thunder gather behind his eyes.

“Well, the feeling is mutual,” Brejian said. She planted her feet and looked like she was ready for a fight.

“Mother!” Selah yelled. “Brejian is here.”

Pasha hurried from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “What did you find?”

Brejian shook her head. “No one has seen her since last night.”

“What am I going to do? The daughter needs someone to change her dressings,” Pasha said.

Selah leaned forward, suddenly wondering where Rylla and Dane were. “Who are we talking about?”

“It’s one of the families we help at the free clinic,” Mari said. “The mother disappeared after the lottery and—”

“Whoa!” Bodhi threw up his hands. “Why are you mingling with those people?”

“What do you mean by ‘those people’? Do you think you’re too good to mix with the poor?” Brejian put her hands on her hips.

“I mean mixing with any of the people in this dome.” Bodhi moved his hand around in a circle. “You seem to forget they keep attacking Selah.”

“Which seems bizarre on its own because they just seem to be testing my strength and not actually trying to grab me,” Selah said.

“Oh, and it’s so much better that they haven’t been successful at kidnapping you,” Bodhi said. He smirked. “Maybe you’re getting to be just that good.”

Selah could see the pride in his eyes.

“I don’t mean to break up the lovefest, but I’ve got a missing mother, and her child is in serious need of medical assistance,” Pasha said. “I don’t know how much longer we can supplement her care.”

“Doesn’t she have any relatives?” Bodhi turned away from Selah, which she didn’t mind at all.

“She has an aunt and uncle who will take her, but only if she’s well. All their kids work on their farm,” Pasha said. “They’ll leave a sick kid with us at the clinic. She’s not their responsibility.”

“That’s what I mean. We’ll be leaving in a couple months, and we’re never coming back. Why are you involving yourself with these people?” Bodhi looked annoyed.

“Because Mari and I have nothing else to do here except watch you train for combat and teach the children,” Pasha said. “We wanted a little more interaction with the world.”

“I’m worried that someone might use your involvement with these people as a way to get to Selah,” Bodhi said.

“All of our relevant research is securely stored in the transport, where we can’t get at it.” Mari shrugged. “We needed something to do, to at least feel useful. No one has mentioned Selah or the novarium.”

“Sometimes the key to helping ourselves is in helping others,” Pasha said.

Selah could see Bodhi cave at their generous hearts. “Well, just don’t get Selah involved,” he mumbled. He sniffed the air. “Is that fresh bread I smell?”

“In the kitchen,” Pasha said, crooking her finger at Bodhi. He followed her into the kitchen.

“Explain to me what you’ve gotten yourself into,” Selah said to Mari. She wasn’t worried about the people they associated with, just what kind of situations they could get into.

Mari sat up. “Here’s the short version—because of the reduced strength of STORM, some people with weaker immune systems are developing diseases—”

“And the diseases could be stopped if the Keepers gave these sick people more doses of STORM, but because they don’t, the diseases are starting to spread,” Brejian said.

Selah instantly understood the Keeper’s reasoning. There weren’t any extra pills anymore, but the people weren’t allowed to know. Her mind fast-forwarded and saw how the colony would die out if she didn’t succeed with the Third Protocol. Another world of people depending on her . . .

“And the desperation has led to a black market for STORM.” Brejian frowned and shook her head. “I can’t believe this is going on in the dome. Gambling with your health and selling your heritage are crazy things. There have to be Keepers involved. They control the coding of STORM. So if someone is selling their STORM, the coding has to be changed to the new person.”

Selah appreciated that Brejian trusted her enough to discuss a problem the Keeper said was secret. With the implications, the graft looked to involve at least some of the Keepers. “It has to be a Keeper changing the coding.”

Brejian nodded.

“How can people sell their health?” Selah wondered what kind of circumstances would cause people to knowingly risk their health.

“If they’re healthy, they can become very wealthy in auctioning off their yearly dose of STORM,” Brejian said. “The momentary wealth is followed, in many cases, by a compromised immune system that draws every germ it can find and increases the population of disease in the dome.”

Selah looked around. “So what am I missing? How can anyone auction off STORM? Its manufacture dictates one activation code per person.”

Brejian blinked. “You know more about the process than I would have expected. Where are you getting this information?”

Selah pressed her lips together. The Keeper had sworn her to secrecy about the source of the pills but not about the black market that he defined as the immediate problem. “The Keeper told me about the lottery and the black market.”

“The Keeper shared that information?” Brejian’s jaw flexed like she was grinding her teeth. “I’m surprised he’d be that open with an outsider.”

“I’m not really an outsider. The Keeper felt it necessary to raise my angst by telling me just how many more people were dependent on my satisfactory outcome.” Selah hated how sarcastic she was becoming, but the heightened awareness that came with the lightning flashes made her cranky.

Brejian diverted her eyes. “I’ve just never known him to be that open with strangers.”

Selah calmed some. “Apparently things have changed dramatically since you were home last, and the biggest change seems to be this black market of STORM.”

Brejian sighed. “Someone has hacked the program and can change the activation code of a STORM dose to another recipient.”

“That’s impossible. That code is tamperproof and set by the Keepers . . .” Selah’s voice trailed off. She had just given credibility to Mari’s claim of corrupt Keepers.

Brejian lowered her head as though she were fearful of looking at Selah.

Mari joined the discussion again. “The going consensus is that there’s a group of Keepers siphoning off pill strength to sell extra protection to the elite dome populations. That’s why people play the lottery—for a chance at an additional dose.”

Selah jerked her gaze in Mari’s direction. “You two are describing different problems, but both of them could involve the Keepers.” If the Keeper had been truthful, the dose strength was a problem of degradation, not subversion . . . but could she believe him?

“Not all Keepers.” Brejian narrowed her eyes. “There are honest, dedicated Keepers.”

Pasha returned from the kitchen. “This doesn’t solve my present problem though. The sick child’s mother is still missing. They told me the area down by the docks where she was last seen—”

“Oh no you don’t!” Selah rubbed her fingertip back and forth across her forehead. “Mother, you are not going down to any docks.”