tears.
“It’s fine,” I rasped, sitting up and leaning against my bed. My arm sagged strangely. “Will you put that back in?”
She grasped my arm and yanked it back into the socket, keeping her head down as tears began spilling over her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again as the humans walked in.
“It’s fine, Ever. Really.” I smiled at her but she wasn’t looking at me.
“Feeling a little weak?” the doctor asked in a kind voice, like he wasn’t the one who had done it to her.
She nodded mutely and he held out a syringe, gesturing for her arm.
“That’ll help.” He pushed the liquid in and patted her on the head.
She closed her eyes and took in a few breaths.
“Is that better?” he asked. “Do you think you can go out on assignment tonight?”
She nodded, wiping at her cheeks with her fingers.
The human chewed on his lip, considering for a moment. “It’s just sick extraction tonight, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Ever said.
“All right.” He pointed at me. “Change your shirt. It’s split down the back.”
They left the room and I stood up, tugging off my black shirt and pulling out an identical one. I put it on over my undershirt, adjusting my helmet and camera.
“You ready?” I asked, offering Ever my hand.
She kept her head down as we walked to the roof, oblivious to the many glances I threw her way. We couldn’t talk about it now, anyway, with our coms on and humans listening to every word.
Twenty-two and the other Reboots were already in the shuttle, strapped in. Hugo and his newbie were the only other training team going out tonight; the rest were veteran Reboots. Mostly Under-sixties, except for Marie One-thirty-five, who was on her second solo mission since our training. Sickie assignments didn’t require much skill. I eyed the Under-sixties as I stepped inside the shuttle, looking for signs of the insanity I’d just seen from Ever. But their eyes were downcast, their expressions blank.
Two officers stood in the corner of the shuttle. A young guy named Paul, and one I didn’t know. The stranger sneered at us and pointed his gun straight at me, showing off yellow teeth.
“Sit,” he ordered.
Two officers wasn’t a good sign.
I slid into the seat next to Twenty-two and ignored his efforts to catch my eye. Not in the mood.
We traveled to the heart of the slums in silence, filing out of the shuttle when Yellow Teeth barked the order. The slums were warmer tonight, the chilly breeze from the last few nights gone.
“Do you have your map?” I asked Twenty-two, handing the assignment slip to him as the shuttle door slammed shut behind us.
He nodded, holding it up to me.
“Sickie assignments are easier,” I said as he studied it. “We’re just extracting the sick who are contaminating the city.”
“Why do they care?” he asked, gesturing to the shuttle.
“They’re trying to rid the human population of disease. They can’t if these humans walk around infecting everyone. They’re preventing a second mass outbreak.”
He frowned but said nothing. “That way?” He pointed.
“Yes.”
We headed down a dirt street populated by little homes and tents. This area of town hadn’t been completely built up yet, with some humans still living in makeshift houses until they constructed something sturdier. It was the worst of the slums, and the smell of death and sickness tickled my nose. The warmer weather made the stench worse, although not nearly as bad as the summer, when it got so strong I had to hold my breath.
I stopped in front of a tent made from some sort of plastic material. It wasn’t particularly sturdy; in fact it was so full of holes I doubted it provided much shelter at all. The thin tree branches holding it up looked shaky at best.
“Bell Trevis,” I called.
I heard a cough from inside; then the tent flaps parted and a young woman scooted out. Her greasy dark hair was matted to her head, her eyes sunken and black. Red flecks spotted
“It’s fine,” I rasped, sitting up and leaning against my bed. My arm sagged strangely. “Will you put that back in?”
She grasped my arm and yanked it back into the socket, keeping her head down as tears began spilling over her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again as the humans walked in.
“It’s fine, Ever. Really.” I smiled at her but she wasn’t looking at me.
“Feeling a little weak?” the doctor asked in a kind voice, like he wasn’t the one who had done it to her.
She nodded mutely and he held out a syringe, gesturing for her arm.
“That’ll help.” He pushed the liquid in and patted her on the head.
She closed her eyes and took in a few breaths.
“Is that better?” he asked. “Do you think you can go out on assignment tonight?”
She nodded, wiping at her cheeks with her fingers.
The human chewed on his lip, considering for a moment. “It’s just sick extraction tonight, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Ever said.
“All right.” He pointed at me. “Change your shirt. It’s split down the back.”
They left the room and I stood up, tugging off my black shirt and pulling out an identical one. I put it on over my undershirt, adjusting my helmet and camera.
“You ready?” I asked, offering Ever my hand.
She kept her head down as we walked to the roof, oblivious to the many glances I threw her way. We couldn’t talk about it now, anyway, with our coms on and humans listening to every word.
Twenty-two and the other Reboots were already in the shuttle, strapped in. Hugo and his newbie were the only other training team going out tonight; the rest were veteran Reboots. Mostly Under-sixties, except for Marie One-thirty-five, who was on her second solo mission since our training. Sickie assignments didn’t require much skill. I eyed the Under-sixties as I stepped inside the shuttle, looking for signs of the insanity I’d just seen from Ever. But their eyes were downcast, their expressions blank.
Two officers stood in the corner of the shuttle. A young guy named Paul, and one I didn’t know. The stranger sneered at us and pointed his gun straight at me, showing off yellow teeth.
“Sit,” he ordered.
Two officers wasn’t a good sign.
I slid into the seat next to Twenty-two and ignored his efforts to catch my eye. Not in the mood.
We traveled to the heart of the slums in silence, filing out of the shuttle when Yellow Teeth barked the order. The slums were warmer tonight, the chilly breeze from the last few nights gone.
“Do you have your map?” I asked Twenty-two, handing the assignment slip to him as the shuttle door slammed shut behind us.
He nodded, holding it up to me.
“Sickie assignments are easier,” I said as he studied it. “We’re just extracting the sick who are contaminating the city.”
“Why do they care?” he asked, gesturing to the shuttle.
“They’re trying to rid the human population of disease. They can’t if these humans walk around infecting everyone. They’re preventing a second mass outbreak.”
He frowned but said nothing. “That way?” He pointed.
“Yes.”
We headed down a dirt street populated by little homes and tents. This area of town hadn’t been completely built up yet, with some humans still living in makeshift houses until they constructed something sturdier. It was the worst of the slums, and the smell of death and sickness tickled my nose. The warmer weather made the stench worse, although not nearly as bad as the summer, when it got so strong I had to hold my breath.
I stopped in front of a tent made from some sort of plastic material. It wasn’t particularly sturdy; in fact it was so full of holes I doubted it provided much shelter at all. The thin tree branches holding it up looked shaky at best.
“Bell Trevis,” I called.
I heard a cough from inside; then the tent flaps parted and a young woman scooted out. Her greasy dark hair was matted to her head, her eyes sunken and black. Red flecks spotted
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