Miya glanced sideways at Raine as they exited the Food Bar to head back to their room.
“What do you mean?”
“C’mon, Mi. You’re the only one in an entire Camp of sixty-three hundred people who’s immune to the Leadership’s electromagnetic jolts. And you might try to downplay the fact that you don’t have prescribed dreams, but there’s a reason for that.” Raine stopped walking and grabbed Miya’s arm, pushing her against the cold steel wall of the corridor.
“And after what happened back there, I doubt I’m the only one who knows. You’re making things very difficult for yourself. Be careful.”
“But I’m not the only one who can touch without getting shocked. You can too! You’re touching me right now!” Miya ignored the funny looks people were giving them as they walked by. She knew how odd it must’ve looked: Raine pinning Miya to the wall with one hand gripping her wrist and neither one getting zapped for it.
Raine dropped Miya’s hand and stepped back with a sigh.
“I don’t count,” she said, then turned and walked away.
CHAPTER 3
Miya
Two days passed before Miya saw Raine again. Her bed remained unmade on the opposite side of the room. Her green toothbrush stayed in its place in a little metal cup beside their shared sink. The same blob of white toothpaste still clung to its bristles. The sight of the lone toothbrush made Miya’s stomach feel hollow and achy.
For the next two mornings Miya sat at the same table in the Food Bar. Her eyes roved over the mass of people rushing to eat their daily meal of smack—gray-brown mashed oats—or shmeat—a gray-brown lump of biochemically grown meat. Both mornings, when she didn’t see Raine, she sat and picked at her food, stirring the indistinguishable mass with her spoon until it turned watery. Both meals were equally revolting. Both were loaded with daily vitamins, mineral supplements, and who knew what else. She could hardly gag it down.
“So, the other day when…you know…um, you were anxious to tell me something.” She turned to Nathan, who sat between her and Paige, scraping the inside of his bowl with his finger. Miya had to look away.
Nathan grinned his characteristic wide smile and tossed his bowl onto his tray, then wiped his mouth on his arm. The brown track it left on his sleeve turned Miya’s stomach.
“You’re disgusting.” Paige giggled.
Nathan wiggled his eyebrows at her, then picked up his spoon and pointed it at Miya.
“Before I tell you anything, you have to tell me where you’ve been.”
“Been?” Miya snorted, then coughed when her swallow of water burned her nose.
Nathan wagged his spoon in her face. “Yeah. You haven’t been to the lab in days.”
Miya picked up her napkin and twisted a corner of it, not meeting his eyes. “It hasn’t been days, Nathan. It’s only been two. And I’ve been in my room.” She lifted her wrist and waved it at him. “Implant problems.”
Paige ducked her head, not wanting to talk about things that could get them punished, but Nathan wouldn’t let it go.
“So? Let a medtech check it out and come back to work.”
“That’s pretty personal, Nate. You shouldn’t talk about people’s implants.” Paige poked at her breakfast with her spoon. It seemed she enjoyed it as much as Miya did.
Nathan lounged back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Well, are you coming back to work?”
The look of concern on his handsome face tugged a smile from Miya. “Of course, silly. Now, tell me what’s gotten you so worked up.”
“I’m not worked up, Miss Miya Thorne.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and grinned again.
“Oh, yeah? People don’t go around touching other people when they know it could get them into trouble unless they’re worked up about something.” Miya pushed her tray away from her and met Nathan’s direct gaze.
“Or they forget,” Paige quipped. Both Nathan and Miya looked at her. “Okay, I guess no one forgets about the rules.”
“Spill it, Nathan.” Miya rested her chin on her hands, waiting.
Nathan cleared his throat. “Truth?” He looked at both the girls. Paige nodded, her golden curls bobbing enthusiastically. Miya sighed and rolled her eyes.
“I was testing a theory.”
Miya leaned toward him. “A theory?”
“Yes, I’ve been noticing in the lab that there’ve been several implant repairs done lately. More than usual.” He paused, looking at each of the girls again.
“And?” Impatience made Miya’s tone sharp.
“Well, it must mean there’s been an unusually high number of severe injuries…or even deaths in the Camp.”
Miya shrugged like what he was saying was of no consequence, but tucked her hands under her thighs to hide the radically blipping light on her implant.
“So, you think that more people are having biobabies now that our population has lessened?” Paige’s eyes were round.
“Nathan’s talking about possible murders or a mass plague that might be killing people, and all you can think of are biobabies?”
Paige squirmed in her chair, and for a second Miya felt badly about being so mean to her.
“They’re cute,” Paige said in a quiet voice.
“Well, both of you are partly right. Those are both logical things, but I’m talking about something else. Something…dangerous.”
An icy ripple of fear shook Miya. “Don’t even say it, Nathan. I know what you’re thinking.”
“What?” Paige squealed, and both Nathan and Miya shushed her.
Miya wanted to grab Nathan’s arm and beg him not to entertain those thoughts. It was not only dangerous, it was illegal. And if he got caught, he would be killed. The Leadership would not tolerate it.
Miya leaned across Nathan, being careful not to touch him and draw attention to themselves again.
“He’s thinking about escaping,” she whispered to Paige.
“How?” Paige’s face paled.
“By hacking into the system and faking his own death.” Miya shook her head. Nathan was daring, but also very stupid. If he didn’t do it right, Leadership would be onto him and he’d be killed.
Paige pushed her breakfast away from her. “You can’t fake your own death just by hacking into the system. The Leadership would find out and then what?”
Miya knew how he could do it, but she let Nathan speak for himself. If he wanted to risk being punished by talking about it, it was his choice. “The only way to escape without being caught is to go offline. So if I cut out my implant, I can’t be tracked. Then I’ll be able to find a way out.”
“That’s…crazy.” Paige crossed her arms, giving Nathan a hard look. “If it were that easy, you’d think someone would’ve done it by now.”
Miya pressed her lips together. She wasn’t going to say anything more about it, but Nathan grinned conspiratorially.
“I think people have done it. We just don’t hear about it.” He looked pointedly at Miya, who just shook her head.
“I’d never do it. The earth is dead. Why would anyone want to leave the comfort and safety of the Camp?”
She gave a scripted answer while inside her stomach churned. Why wouldn’t anyone want to leave?
CHAPTER 4
Miya
What if…
Those two words were the beginning of every question Miya thought after Nathan told them he wanted to escape.
What if I did find a way out of here, only to suffocate in the toxic air outside?
Outside dangers or not, if she was honest with herself, Miya would admit the idea of escape was intriguing. The Camp had no doors and no windows. People were created in a petri dish, were born, then lived and died inside the four walls. The Leadership maintained the population. Nothing changed. Until now. Nathan had given her a tiny peek at hope in spite of the dangers.
What if I got an infection after removing my implant? I’d be dead before I enjoyed any freedom.
What if—
“What if the Leadership finds out about your secret?”
Miya jumped at the sound of Raine’s voice. She hadn’t heard her come into their room. Miya had been too busy chewing her thumbnail and staring up at the ceiling. She sat up and stared at her roommate’s disheveled appearance.
“What? Where’ve you been?” She touched a spot below her collarbone. A spot where she had a defect severe enough to be executed for. Touching the spot was a habit she’d given up long ago in order to keep the defect a secret.
“I went out.” Raine sat on her bed and kicked off her soft-soled white lab shoes. The same kind that all the medtechs and biotechs wore to work. She flexed her toes a few times, then combed her fingers through her long hair to catch it up into a ratty tail that she wound an elastic around.
“Out? You mean to the Observatory?” It was the closest thing to being outside. If you stood in front of the giant screen and stared at the starved and decaying earth outside, you could almost imagine what it used to be like. Miya suspected the Observatory wasn’t showing live video on its screen, rather a prerecorded video loop in order to scare people into staying in the Camp. If she had the nerve to ask, Leadership would say it was for education, and she couldn’t prove otherwise.
“Maybe. Why?”
“I don’t sleep well when you’re not here.” The truth of that statement struck her, and Miya realized with a shock that this wasn’t Raine’s first disappearance. It wasn’t even her second or third. And it likely wouldn’t be her last. When would her mind start behaving? She hated these snatches of realization that snuck up on her.
“The truth is, Mi, you don’t sleep well whether I’m here or not. You don’t sleep well because you’re dreaming unprescribed dreams.” Raine flopped backwards on her bed as though her flippant comment hadn’t just tipped Miya’s world upside down.
“Am I right?”
Miya took a deep breath and rubbed her implant with the pad of her opposite thumb.
“So what? I have weird dreams, but you leaving in the middle of a…a fight doesn’t help.” She ran her thumbnail over the ridges of her implant, digging in deeper until the dull pain anchored her somehow.
“Besides, I wanted to talk to you about Nathan.”
Raine’s loud sigh echoed in the little room. “His episode, you mean? The fact that he was testing his theory?”
The room got still.
“Did he tell you that?”
“I’m a biotech just like you and Nathan, or did you forget? I have access to the same information. I was the one who first noticed how many people were suddenly going offline.”
“By offline do you mean dead?”
Raine sat up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Not necessarily. Whenever someone’s implant malfunctions, it takes them offline, right? Most people don’t realize they’ve gone offline unless they know what to look for. And the symptoms usually only last for a day or two at the most. Hardly enough time to raise suspicion.” Raine stared hard at Miya until Miya’s mouth went dry.
“Symptoms?”
“Unprescribed dreams, physical and emotional attraction, thoughts of leaving the Camp. You know, dangerous, illegal symptoms that could get a person killed.” Raine’s tone was impatient and direct, seemingly implying she knew about what was happening to Miya lately.
Miya looked down at her hands. She hadn’t noticed she’d started to dig a trench into her skin with her thumbnail, and a ribbon of dark blood dripped from the wound onto the toe of her white lab shoe.
“I’ll ask you again, Mi. What if the Leadership finds out about your secret?”
Miya shook her head, unwilling to look at Raine. “You know they won’t. I haven’t touched it in public since forever, and—”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Nathan knows about you, Mi. If he didn’t tell you that he knows, then I’d be careful.”
Miya stood up, her heart hammering in her chest. She could only imagine how fast the red dot on her implant was bouncing.
“Knows what, Raine! I swear to God I’ll…I’ll punch you if you don’t tell me what the hell you’re talking about!”
Raine laughed and held out her hands in mock surrender. “You’re proving my point! People connected to the system don’t have emotional outbursts, Miya, because their implant prevents them from deep feelings. You know this! How long have we been monitoring data in the lab, fixing glitches in people’s biofeeds and reprogramming faulty implants? How long!”
Raine punched her fists into the bed, her pale cheeks a remarkable scarlet color. She closed her eyes for a minute while Miya stared at her, speechless. She’d never seen Raine come unglued before. It wasn’t possible with the implants.
Raine opened her eyes; her calm demeanor returned. “Nathan wasn’t really talking about escaping today. You know that, right? He was trying to tell you he knows the reason you can touch people is because you aren’t online. You never have been, because you’ve never been in the system, Miya. As far back as the Camp history goes, you don’t even have a biofeed.”
Miya sat down slowly on the edge of her own bed. It’s not possible. How can that be possible?
“I know what you’re thinking. It’s not only possible, Mi, it’s true.” Raine stood up and squeezed Miya’s shoulder on her way to the bathroom to take a shower.
Miya hunkered down in her bed, hating the bitter metallic taste of fear on her tongue. Raine was wrong. She had a biofeed. She had to. She’d been born and raised here like everyone else. If she wasn’t in the system, why did the Leadership allow her to stay, then? They had to know she was here. Her boss was one of them, and she saw him every day at the lab. He had to know.
Miya’s mind cycled, spinning until she thought she’d be sick. She thought of all the times she should’ve been reprimanded by the Leadership, but wasn’t. She’d never been zapped even when she’d broken obvious rules. She’d touched people and didn’t even receive the tiny static shock as a warning that everyone else received, never mind a full-blown electrocution like Nathan had. She’d always thought she just had a high pain threshold or her body simply didn’t register certain kinds of pain.
A dull ache in her wrist told her that wasn’t true. She’d gouged herself and she certainly felt the pain of it now.
She stilled her body, counting her heartbeats. She could touch people and the Leadership didn’t seem to care. But so could Raine.
What made her and Raine different than other people? The only thing she knew was her mark, but Raine didn’t have one. At least she’d never seen one for as long as they’d lived together. They’d lived together for…for…
Miya rolled onto her back and rubbed her forehead. How long had she and Raine lived together? Since her parents were executed? Her brain pounded too much to think, and the fogginess suddenly seemed thicker than usual.
She flopped over onto her stomach and punched her pillow into a fluffier shape, then buried her face in it.
She counted the things she did know: she’d spent her whole life inside this massive metal container. It was home. She had been born and raised in it along with everyone else. There was no way to get out of the Camp, it was seven stories high, and it took an entire day to walk the perimeter. Even if there was a door somewhere that led to the outside, she’d die in a matter of minutes from breathing in the toxic air.
Miya leaned on her elbow and squinted in the dimly lit room. She must’ve fallen asleep. She hadn’t noticed the nighttime lights come on, and she hadn’t heard Raine’s shower stop. She looked over at the figure lying in bed on the opposite side of the room. Her best friend’s rhythmic breathing told her Raine was asleep.
Raine was Miya’s sanity. Her voice of reason.
They were polar opposites.
Miya was soft-spoken, while Raine was outgoing. Miya’s shoulder-length auburn hair was unruly, while Raine’s golden locks were always meticulously tied back in a ponytail. Except lately, she’d been looking rumpled like she’d b
een sleeping in her clothes. Raine’s silver-blue eyes had flecks of gold in them, while Miya’s were an achingly bright blue. Raine’s physique was a picture of genetic perfection, but Miya had a birth defect.
She ran a finger under her nightshirt, just under her left collarbone, until she felt the bumpy ridges of her birthmark.
It was a serious enough defect to keep hidden and hideous enough that she refused to have a medtech look at it. She knew how those things went. She’d never seen anything like it in the lab. Since it was a birth defect—embedded in her DNA—the Grafting Machine couldn’t repair it. If the Leadership ever found out about it, she wouldn’t just find herself eliminated from the system as an Invalidate, she’d be executed. Funny how she’d tried to keep it a secret for years, but now that she wasn’t in the system—if she wasn’t in the system—it hardly seemed to matter. It was possible the Leadership would never find out about it now. Yet, leave it to Raine to still make a big deal out of it.
Miya opened her eyes and rolled over. Raine still hadn’t moved from her sound sleep. The room was suffused with a soft golden glow, supposedly simulating moonlight if it were to slant through the room’s window—if they had a window. Miya had only ever seen the real moon on the Observatory’s screen.
Raine’s slender arm hung down the side of the bed, as usual; her fingers twitched slightly as she dreamt. Miya scrunched up her eyes until she could barely make out her best friend’s thumbnail-sized implant glinting in the dim light. A small red dot pulsed with Raine’s heartbeat.
She moved her eyes fondly over her friend’s silky blond hair that fanned out on the pillow. Raine’s dark lashes fluttered a little. Miya wanted to wake her just to hear her throaty voice say that everything would be all right. Because everything would be if Raine said it would.
Miya lifted her wrist again and looked at her own implant. She watched the steady red dot beating there and remembered when she was little how she used to feel safe knowing that the Leadership was watching her, monitoring every move through that tiny device. She never felt truly alone. The Leadership was everywhere. Always watching.
Or were they?
CHAPTER 5
Miya
Miya bit her lip and glanced over at Raine again, who had begun to stir. She watched Raine yawn and stretch and waited until their eyes met from across the room and Raine’s face crinkled in that familiar smile. Miya swung her bare legs over the side of her bed. She scooped her wiry auburn hair into one hand then wound an elastic twice around her thick hair so that it was off her face.