Read Catalyst Online

Authors: Lydia Kang

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Dystopian, #Action & Adventure, #Survival Stories, #Science & Technology

Catalyst (10 page)

“Officials have been asked to take extra precautions, as Benten is a known flight risk from Neia. She is linked to a recent attack in Omaha involving other illegal individuals in which several police officers were injured.”

Oh no. Carus House. Now that’s on the news too.

The collective noise decrescendos, and my pulse rises in response. Heads rise above the cubicles. Both officers and the hopeful to-be citizens of Ilmo take a moment to scan their surroundings. I can’t duck. I can’t hide.

One small girl perched onto the hip of a frazzled mother ahead of us stares at my image on the screen, then twists about abruptly. Her mother groans with annoyance, trying to keep her child from falling off her hip.

“Mama. Look.” The little girl points at my face. I freeze, as only the guilty can. Her mother turns to look, thinking to scold her child.

She doesn’t.

When I hear her scream, I spin around. Cy and Blink are already bolting away from the entrance. Caliga grabs my hand, and the pain of her grip doesn’t faze me.

We run.

CHAPTER 9

F
OUR LARGE, AZURE-CLAD POLICE OFFICERS COME
forward, scanning the crowd. We calm our run down to a walk and dodge behind a holoboard kiosk, panting.

“What are we going to do?” Caliga whispers, her scarred eyes wide with panic.


Nous devrions retourner à la voiture,
” Blink says rapidly. She clutches at Cy’s arm like he’s a life preserver.

“No, we can’t. The char’s nearly out of fuel,” he responds, still scanning the crowd for a way out.

“I’ve got an idea,” I say hurriedly. “Inky.” I toss my head toward the closest group of gray-smocked women.

“No! We can’t!” Cy is a decibel away from yelling. Blink hangs back too.

“Absolutely not!

Caliga enunciates the words like they’re infused with needles. “Are you insane?” she hisses. “There’s got to be a better choice.”

“This is our only choice!” I reason. “We’re out of fuel. We don’t have enough food for four people. And you’ll be septic in two days if we can’t get more antibiotics.”

Cy pinches his eyes shut. “She’s right. Everyone knows Inky takes in the dregs of society. The only other thing to do is to turn ourselves in.”

And never see Dyl and my family again? “We are NOT turning ourselves in,” I whisper fiercely, and Cy starts with surprise at the aggression in my words. We all scan the carnival-like environment around us. Guards are peppered throughout the crowd. One pair is only twenty feet away, and they’re walking toward us.

“We’re screwed,” Caliga says helplessly.

“Exactly,” I say, and we turn collectively to the group of Inky women. The nearest one’s eyes narrow when she sees Cy. She quickly replaces her disappointment with happiness. I can actually see her molars, she’s smiling so hard.

“Well hello, ladies! And . . . gentleman.” She tips her head with artificial graciousness toward Cy. I don’t like the way she says
ladies.
“Are you interested in entering Inky?”

“Yes!” We all say it a little too fast.

“We have a magtrain leaving momentarily. Why don’t you join us and we can discuss it on the way?” She takes a few steps toward us. Reflexively, I slide in front of Caliga.

“She’s not yet vaccinated. Wouldn’t want you to get what she’s got right now,” I warn her. Caliga coughs loudly for dramatic effect, and it works. The Inky woman steps away with haste.

We start walking forward, but she holds a hand out, stopping Cy.

“However. We are not accepting males at this time,” she says.

“Just looking for manual labor,” Cy says quickly. He motions to me. “She’s my sister. You said families could stay together, right?”

Caliga pinches my arms, because the officers from Ilmo are getting close. It’s now or never. The gray lady studies us.
C’mon!
I want to yell.
We’re young! And kinda, sorta, not really fertile, but we look like it, right?

“Very well. Since there are three of you ladies, we should be able to work this out. Follow me.”

She leads us to a simple, unadorned white awning. Underneath, there are no cubicles and no officials. The walls pulsate in shades of pale pink and blue, like some sort of disco baby womb.

“Here you go.” She ushers us onto a long, silver escalator leading down to the magtrain. As we descend into the claustrophobic depths, the woman waves a cheerful good-bye from the top.

“There’s only one escalator,” Caliga says. Great. There’s no backing out now. Caliga leans into me. “How am I going to hide this?” She waves at her body. “And I’ve heard the stories about Inky. No one’s going to force me to be pregnant.” I’m thinking the exact same thing, but I stay quiet. I may have promised Marka to care for Caliga’s leg, but her emotional well-being isn’t my responsibility.

At the bottom of the escalator, a white magtrain hums and hovers on its tracks. Oval compartments connect like giant glossy beads on a string. A cloaked guard points to an open compartment.

“Ladies, please take the near one.” He turns to Cy. “You’ll be down there, in the men’s pod.” He points all the way to the other end of the magtrain. We all glance nervously at one another.

Blink complains before I can even open my mouth. “But—”

“No exceptions. You can apply for coupling requests later after we arrive.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you there,” Cy says to Blink. Not me.

“Wait.” I step quickly and reach for Cy. I don’t even know what I’m going to say or do. At this point, I’m even afraid to give him a kiss on the cheek, but it doesn’t matter, because the guard stops me.

“Public contact between the sexes is forbidden.”

“It’s okay, Zel. It’s only a train ride,” Cy says to me. With an obedience that surprises me, Cy heads quickly down the platform. I stare at him so long that Caliga yanks my arm.

“Let’s go,” Caliga says. She limps toward our compartment, and Blink and I follow her. Inside, there are four holo screens along the short wall with seats in front of them, some reclining chairs, and steps to an upper room. Blink sits herself on a corner chair, gathers her knees to her chest, and turns to face the windowless wall. A garish welcome sign flashes across the holo screens. Caliga watches the doors close. Her hand goes to her chest.

“I can’t breathe.”

I roll my eyes. “Believe me, you can.” I wonder what Cy is doing in his compartment. As if on cue, his voice enters my head in a faint whisper.

I hope you’re all okay.
There is a pause, and then:
I’m alone in here.

I wait for Cy to speak to me. For me only. One line of the poem, maybe. But his voice stays silent. Suddenly, words blare out from the walls.

“Welcome aboard the magtrain to Inky, the State that creates tomorrow’s hope! Our journey will take forty minutes! We will be serving a beverage and meal shortly, followed by our entrance procedures! Please follow the holo screens for more instructions! Thank you, and welcome to Inky!”

The voice sounds a little bit like Dyl, except on a gallon of caffeine. Every exclamation is a fork in my ribs. Our good-bye seems years ago, not two days ago. And Cy hardly seems happy about being reunited again.

I could ask Blink why. But that would mean admitting that I need a map to a place I used to know by heart.

So I head for the stairs, relieved to find a chaise where I can lie down. Oblivion would be nice, even if only for a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” Caliga stops her anxious pacing to stare at me.

“Nap.”

“How can you sleep at a time like this?”

“Easy. Watch me.”

I flop down on a spotless cream chaise. A clicking sound heralds the emergence of a tray sliding out of the wall with a sandwich, orange juice, and vitamin packets. I put on my necklace and squeeze my eyes shut. I hope that I’ll dream of sweeter things.

• • •

“H
EY. GET UP.
I
T’S TIME.”

Caliga prods my arm and I bat her away. My limbs are heavy and asking for a dozen more hours of sleep. The concept of being conscious is coldly depressing.

“Time for what?” I mumble.

“For our evaluation,” Caliga says. “You should eat something.”

I wake up enough to gobble down the sandwich and juice. I push the vitamins away after sniffing them suspiciously.

Downstairs, the lights are dim and Blink still sits in the corner. Did she move at all? Her black pupils are big and doll-like. She holds my gaze for way too long before dropping her eyes to her lap.

“I know why you don’t talk with me,” Blink says quietly. There’s an edge to her words. Gritty bits of anger within the lilted vowels. “I am no thief, you know. I will not take anything that is not willingly given to me.”

My hands clench at her words. The threat is so sharp, it cuts the silence and sits there, a real thing in the room. Even Caliga feels it. She coughs to break the stillness.

“Uh, Blink. Why don’t you go upstairs for your eval.”


Avec plaisir,
” she says simply, walking up the stairs.

“Yes, go far, far away,” I whisper. But my angry words don’t make me strong. I feel petty. I feel weak.

Caliga waves her hand to the row of monitors. “Sit down. The instructions are starting soon.”

I take off my necklace and put it back in my pocket, then take a seat. A detached voice enters the room as
Basic Information
scrolls across the holo screen.

“Welcome to the Inky registration process. Please place your F-TID on the pad, so that we may download your existing information.”

“Oh! Hex’s fake fingers!” I yelp, and run to my duffel bag. I totally forgot to soak them in nutrient water like he said. I almost retch when I find the two disembodied digits. One is rolling over and over like a gray elliptic worm, and the other is bluish and looks dead. Gross, gross, gross. “Hex is going to kill me!” I wail.

The holo screen asks for my F-TID again and I break out in a sweat.

“What are we going to do? They’ll know we’ve been off the grid,” Caliga moans.

The holo screen voice speaks calmly. “To start your new life in Inky with a clean slate and decline an F-TID download, please say, ‘New ID.’”

“Oh, for freak’s sake. New ID!” I almost yell.

“New ID process has begun. By declining review of your previous F-TID, any accounts and positive moral credit are void. You will be started as an entry-level citizen.”

Huh. “Entry-level citizen” could mean I’m licking toilets in the near future. I wonder how many young women chose to enter Inky because they were morally bankrupt.

I glance to the right, and Caliga is patiently answering questions. She doesn’t seem nearly as frazzled as I am. The holo screen asks more questions, like next of kin, family contacts, personal medical history, family medical history, sexual and fertility history. The lies come out of my mouth faster than Vera can yoga-cize into a scorpion pose.

“Please place your hand on our data pad for a blood test.”

A small pad slides out of the wall. On it is the outline of a hand, where I’m supposed to lay mine down. There are holes in the pad where I’m sure needles are going to pop up to bite me.

“Are you doing the blood test?” I ask Caliga nervously.

“You have to,” she responds calmly. As if she’s entered Inky a thousand times before. “I tried to refuse, and it said we’d be returned to Neia if we don’t comply.”

I take a huge breath and lay my hand down. The hand pad grows warm. The monitor shows my vital signs being recorded, then tells me not to move. Suddenly I feel a pinch in my middle finger. Then another and another, in other fingers.

“Ow!” I jerk away from the pad and stare at the pinpricks on my hand.

“Thank you. We will be testing your general health status; communicable diseases; fertility status . . .”

Oh no.

“. . . any genetically inheritable diseases; your risk for violent mental instability . . .”

Are they kidding? No, they’re not.

“. . . and of course, prenatal testing, such as karyotype and drug susceptibility.”

I should just walk out with my hands up as soon as the train reaches its destination. Maybe I should put the cuffs on now, just in case. I turn to Caliga, who’s wiping the blood off her hand with an antiseptic pad.

“Just so you know,” I say. “We’re totally screwed.”

“I know. Screwed to kingdom come.”

I laugh, but it’s the laugh of the almost-incarcerated. The holo screen changes to black and white. It asks me to read the full bylines, regulations, and laws of Inky.

What I’m looking for, hiding between the flagrant lying and horrible baby-making agenda, is stuff about HGM 2098. It’s noticeably absent. I’m both relieved and worried. The holo screen dims to a pale yellow. Which is how I feel inside, after going through the process of becoming an Inkyan. Slightly fermented and impure.

“Thank you for completing your registration process. Please place your left hand in the designated opening for a welcome gift.” A glowing orange circle appears in the wall next to the screen.

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