Consensus

001

This is how we used to live.

His voice sounded deep and solemn, as though he were sharing something profound. And that first word was drawn out, like he was gesturing to something when he spoke. But Rena couldn’t see what it was. Nor could she see him. What filled her sight were things that didn’t exist. Land rising up so tall as to block the sky. Trees growing wild and plentiful. Mist crawling through the forest like a living thing.

I’m not going out there, Kirti said.

Her friend’s voice cut through the elusive vision like a cold wind, leaving Rena to stare at the reality of her surroundings. A flat expanse of dark gray soil. Tufts of tan and rust sticking up in random places. Weeds. If she squinted, she could also make out olive-colored splotches of moss, but only a few meters out. Farther than that, all the colors blended into one. It was the fog that did it. Smothering all variation until there was only gray. Above the horizon the gray became brighter. Welcoming. As if someone out there were waiting for her. Rena had never found anyone, or much of anything. In all her exploration, she’d learned that the Barrens were appropriately named.

It’s cold, Kirti added. I’m going back.

You’re scared, Dal said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Please.

It’s not going to affect your number, Rena said, turning around to face her friends.

Against the light of the city, Kirti was little more than a silhouette. Her long, black hair and tan skin melded with her white clothing. She glanced down at the blue glow on the back of her right hand. The three illuminated digits would have been clear inside the city. Out here, the fog made them dim and blurred. Kirti had a rating of 022. Difficult to accomplish for a sixteen-year-old.

I don’t know what I was thinking, Rena, she said, looking up again. This is stupid. We shouldn’t even be here.

Behind her, the Canopy filled the sky in a giant arc. Its translucent panels were gathering and clarifying the rays of afternoon sunlight. From the outside, it gleamed like one of those old-fashioned lightbulbs Rena sometimes found in abandoned buildings along the Outskirts.

Rena turned up her hands. Everyone’s so afraid of the Barrens. But there’s nothing out here.

Except the tree, Dal added.

Kirti didn’t acknowledge the comment. Then why do you keep coming?

Rena opened her mouth, but she didn’t have a good answer. It was complicated. There was something magnetic about the Barrens. They drew her. Being in the city was like being underwater. Out here she could breathe. And then there was this vague feeling of a connection to her past. Memories that didn’t make sense. How was she supposed to put all that into words?

"Well, I’m going, Dal said. I want to see it for myself."

Rena smiled at him. Dal was always ready for an adventure.

Kirti looked back at the Canopy and shook her head. The sun will be down soon. I’ll wait here for ten minutes, then I’m heading back.

We can make it if we run, Rena said to Dal.

OK.

Kirti crossed her arms as if to show the clock had started.

Rena put the city at her back and faced east before jogging farther out into the Barrens. She set a moderate pace that would get them to their destination in just a few minutes. Dal came beside her, already panting. He was tall and lean, though not particularly fit. In the fog, his light skin appeared pale and his blond hair lifeless.

When did you find this thing? he asked.

Last week.

Seconds passed with only the sound of their shoes against the damp soil. Then Dal spoke up again between breaths. How can you tell where we’re going?

Rena nodded toward a short, prickly bush appearing out of the mist on their left. Landmarks.

You memorized the weeds?

Yeah … the big ones.

Dal fell silent again. Not because he lacked anything to say. He was conserving his air.

Rena noted more clusters of brush and made a slight adjustment to their direction before a huge, dark object began to materialize out of the fog in front of them.

Whoa! Dal said.

Rena slowed to a walk as they approached the old tree. It wasn’t like the tall, narrow ones in her visions. This one was broad, with gnarled branches reaching out in all directions like massive, crooked fingers. A few lay on the ground in decaying pieces. The leaves had all fallen off long ago. Only the black skeleton of its trunk remained.

Who would have planted it all the way out here? Dal asked, walking around the dead tree with his mouth hanging open.

Maybe no one.

Dal took his eyes off it long enough to squint at Rena. What do you mean?

What if it grew here on its own?

Trees don’t just grow on their own. Someone has to plant them and take care of them.

No one takes care of these weeds, Rena replied. Then she shrugged and looked up at the tree again. I don’t know. Maybe that’s why this one died.

Dal slid his fingers down the trunk before rubbing them against his thumb. The decaying wood felt slippery, something Rena had also noted last week. Dal’s breaths came out in puffs of white, lingering near his face. The temperature was plummeting now that the sun was almost down.

Rena took a deep breath and let it escape between her lips, watching it dissipate into the air in curling wisps. Do you ever think about how we used to live … before?

Before what?

Esh.

Dal smiled.

What?

You think about the weirdest things, he replied.

Rena was considering which reply would be the most sarcastic when a distant yell stole the smile from her face. She peered west into the fog, where it was brighter from the sunset, but there was nothing to see. Did you hear that?

Yeah. Kirti probably changed her mind about waiting. We should go.

Rena started running back, setting a quicker pace than before.

You have to admit though, it’s kind of creepy out here, Dal said, trying to keep up.

Rena didn’t reply. She was worried about Kirti and too focused on watching the ground as she ran, retracing their steps. The glow in the distance brightened. The Canopy appeared out of the fog, taking on more detail with every step. When they arrived at the place where they’d left Kirti, she was gone. Rena’s worry escalated to panic, and she launched into a sprint.

Wait! Dal said, having fallen behind by a few strides.

Rena kept going, her eyes scanning back and forth along the open sides of the Canopy where it was anchored into the ground. At this distance, the drab buildings of the Outskirts formed a blocky texture, contrasted against the light behind them. It was difficult to make out anything in the foreground. Rena was about to yell for Kirti when she spotted the silhouettes of four people standing a few hundred meters outside of the Canopy on her right. One was significantly shorter than the others.

Rena came to a halt and dropped to the ground. As the sound of Dal’s footsteps approached, she turned and motioned for him to get down as well.

He stopped and crouched beside her. What?

Shut up, she whispered before pointing at the four silhouettes.

Dal turned his head and squinted. Then his eyes went wide. Oh no!

Kirti was backing away from the strangers with her hands out to either side. Leave me alone!

We need to do something, Rena whispered.

Oh no! Dal repeated, rubbing his forehead. We shouldn’t have left her. He was struggling to accept the reality of the situation, his thoughts fixated on their mistake instead of a solution. We were only gone for a few minutes.

Rena grabbed him by the shoulders. Dal! Listen to me. Circle around that way where they can’t see you. Go into the city. Find a police officer and bring him back here as fast as you can.

Dal just nodded.

Do you understand me?

Yeah! he snapped. What about you?

I’m not leaving her alone.

Rena …

Just do it, she said. Without waiting for Dal’s agreement, she got to her feet and began jogging toward the strangers. Kirti?

RENA! Kirti yelled. The tone of her voice was alarming, even more than her rapid blinking when Rena was finally close enough to see her face.

The three men near Kirti spun around, tense. Their clothing was dirty and ill-fitting. None of them had shaved in days. The one nearest Rena had a rating of 002. He held a small box, and judging by the 000 on Kirti’s hand, it was one of those portable scanners for stealing credits.

Oh, thank you so much for finding her, Rena said as she approached, trying to sound winded. She bent over and rested her hands on her knees. We’ve been looking all over for her.

Kirti took a few steps toward Rena before one of the men stepped in front of her and raised his hand. You stay put. The blue numbers on the back of his hand said he was also a lowrate.

Where did you come from? the man with the box asked. His voice sounded like rocks grating together.

The search party right over there, Rena answered, standing up again to point toward the city. I’m so sorry. She does this every once in a while. Wanders out here. It’s really embarrassing.

The third man looked where Rena had pointed. His right hand was blocked by his body, his rating hidden.

Search party? the man with the box asked.

I know, Rena said, smiling and rolling her eyes. Then she turned to Kirti. Your dad’s here this time. And he brought the police with him. You’ve got to stop taking off like this.

Tears began rolling down Kirti’s face, glistening against her skin. She’d been too frightened to cry before. Now the adrenaline was passing, and the sudden rush of emotions was causing her body to shake.

Oh! I know, honey. I’m sorry, Rena said with outstretched arms, walking right past the man in front of Kirti, who made no effort to restrain her. She embraced Kirti. You must be so disoriented. It’s OK now.

Kirti clung to Rena as if she had lost her balance and was about to fall off the ledge of a building. But it was the muggers who’d actually been thrown off balance—they had no idea what was going on. And now was the time for Rena to move her friend away from danger.

Shh, she said in a soothing, motherly tone, stroking Kirti’s long, straight hair. Don’t cry. I’m sure these gentlemen aren’t upset. You only bothered them for a few minutes. But let’s remember our manners now, OK? I want you to thank these nice men for finding you before you got lost out here.

Rena moved Kirti a few steps closer to the city as she consoled her. Kirti was too distraught to understand she needed to play along, so Rena smiled at the men. Thank you for finding her. Really. We might have been out here all night.

She began leading Kirti toward Esh before the men were able to react. Then she raised her hand and began waving. Over here! I found her!

The resulting silence was deafening. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes as the muggers waited to hear a response from a search party that wasn’t there. Rena waved her hand again and yelled to fill up the quietness.

Hang on there, girl! shouted a gravelly voice behind them.

Rena turned to find that she and Kirti had only gained a few meters of distance from the men.

Let’s see your number, he said, jogging over to them.

Rena stuck out her right hand, while she tried another verbal deflection. Oh my gosh! I almost forgot about the reward.

The man took her by the wrist, but gentler than expected. What reward? The scanner in his other hand was forgotten for the moment. Behind him, the other two men were leaning forward, clearly intrigued.

Rena tilted her head toward Kirti. Her dad’s offering credits for whoever brings her back unharmed. I’m sure he’d be grateful to you guys.

The man’s grip loosened.

He’s really generous. Come on. You should meet him, Rena added, starting to pull away.

The mugger frowned, as if he didn’t like the idea of going closer to the city, but his eyes lacked conviction. He was actually considering Rena’s invitation. Once inside Esh, he would lose his nerve and run away, of course. But out here, away from the view of other citizens, his greed made him imagine the possibilities.

Get your hands off her! yelled a familiar voice.

The man’s grip tightened.

All three men turned around.

Dal came out of the fog at a brisk walk, from where Rena had left him. His posture was hunched, and it was obvious he was prepared to do anything to save Rena.

The man with the box was still holding Rena’s wrist as he watched the newcomer approach. The next mugger reached under the back of his jacket and removed a knife from his waistband. Light reflected off its dull, metal surface. It seemed to happen in slow motion, revealing the sharpened edge and the cruel point that would easily pierce Dal’s flesh.

People may try to hurt you.

It was that voice in her head again. The man from her childhood. The one whom she couldn’t quite remember. The man whom her parents and counselor said never existed. But he must have, because his words were there in her memory. Calming her. Focusing her thoughts. Allowing her to concentrate on every detail she needed to notice. Rena suddenly understood what to do, and she didn’t hesitate.

She wrenched her arm around in a small circle and grabbed the man’s wrist, breaking free of his grip at the same time. Yanking backward on his arm, she used the leverage to lift her foot and drive it downward against the side of his knee, snapping it with surprising ease.

He crumpled to the ground, and Rena held on to his wrist, pulling on it to launch herself forward into a run.

The man with the knife began to pivot toward the sound of his friend’s screaming. He only made it halfway around before Rena got to him. She jammed one of her hands into the crook of his arm and shoved his fist inward and upward with her other. The man’s elbow collapsed, and the blade punctured his thick jacket and the side of his rib cage. He flinched, letting go of the knife as he let out a painful grunt. Rena grabbed the handle and gave it a twist before jerking it free.

She was now only six strides from the final mugger.

The man was glancing back and forth between her and Dal, trying to judge which one was more of a threat. Rena was still moving at a run, but Dal’s pace had slowed after what he’d just witnessed. The man turned and came at Rena, his right arm cocked back, fingers clenched into a fist. His height and thick clothing made him seem like a giant.

Massive knuckles came down at Rena’s face.

She planted her foot and dodged to the side while bringing the knife upward. The mugger’s rating left a trace of blue light in front of her eyes, the punch barely missing her face.

The man lost his balance and fell forward on his hands and knees. It was only then that he noticed the blood gushing from the underside of his wrist, compliments of Rena’s new blade.

Rena turned and drove her foot as hard as she could into the man’s exposed abdomen, trying to knock the wind out of him. As he fell on his side and clutched his stomach, she glanced at the other two muggers and verified they were still on the ground.

Rena! Kirti screamed, her hands pressing against the sides of her face.

Dal had come to a stop and was staring with his mouth open wide.

Run! Rena shouted at them both. Let’s go!

002

Rena wouldn’t slow down until they were all well inside of the city, with no indication of pursuit. Fields of dirt and rusting metal contraptions, surrounded by chain-link fences, gave way to concrete buildings with broken out windows. Then old brick structures appeared, with faded business signs and peeling paint. The structural beams of the Canopy were lower over the Outskirts. Most citizens were grateful that it shielded the city from the harsh environment. Channeled rainwater to useful locations. Provided warmth for everyone who lived beneath it. To Rena, it felt like a cage.

As they moved inward, the ceiling rose higher above them. The air grew warmer. The streetlights on every corner began flickering to life now that the sun was down. Broken sidewalks and crumbling asphalt gave way to maintained streets dividing neighborhoods of single-story houses.

Kirti lived farther in than either Dal or Rena. By the time they reached her place—an apartment in a fancy, three-story brick building with carved stone accents—she seemed to have recovered from the afternoon’s unusual event. Her large, brown eyes had cleared. Rena couldn’t even tell she’d been crying. Her long, black hair looked as straight and beautiful as ever. Even her clothes were still immaculate.

My parents are going to kill me, she said, looking at the 000 on the back of her hand.

Rena brushed at the dirt on her own pants. There were stains on the knees that begged for an explanation. I’ll give you some of my credits.

Me too, Dall added.

No. That’s alright. I should have known better than to …

To leave the city? Rena wondered. To go out into the Barrens? To hang out with you? To make friends below my rating? Kirti’s unfinished statement left an awkward silence, and Rena wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the rest of it. I’m sorry.

Kirti didn’t acknowledge the apology. Instead, she smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles from her thin, white jacket, took a deep breath, and turned to walk up the front steps. When the ornate door closed behind her, Rena looked over at Dal.

His lips were pressed together. She’ll get over it.

I hope so.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, heading back out to the neighborhood where they both lived. Rena looked up at the framework of the Canopy. The metal lattice structure was slightly darker than the semitransparent panels revealing the dark gray of the cloudy sky above them. In another hour, none of it would be visible. That was Rena’s favorite time of the day, when it felt like there was no Canopy at all. No enclosure to hold her. No ceiling to indicate how far away from society’s center she really was.

How did you do that? Dal asked, breaking the silence.

Rena didn't have to ask him what he was talking about. She'd been wondering that herself. I don’t know.

I mean, those guys were huge. And dangerous.

Yeah.

So? Why didn’t you run?

"Why didn’t you run … and get the police like I told you?"

Dal brushed his shaggy, blond hair away from his eyes. The police don’t patrol the Outskirts anymore. It would have taken me an hour to find someone. And then I saw that guy grab you.

He was about to let us go when you came barging in. I had it under control.

How? Dal asked, turning to walk sideways so he could face her. That’s what I don’t understand. How could anyone have a situation like that under control?

Rena stared at the sidewalk as she remembered the words that had suddenly come into her mind. People may try to hurt you. Why? Was he speaking about specific people? Was it something about Rena he knew people wouldn’t like? Or maybe it was just a general warning.

I don’t know. It was like I’d been in that situation before. I just … saw what to do and I did it.

Dal exhaled and slid his hands into his pockets. It was something he did every time he got uncomfortable. Those occasions were becoming infrequent these days, as he seemed to care less and less about what other people thought of him. But it still happened when the subject of Rena’s past came up. He was protective of her, and the thought of what she might have gone through as a child, what she couldn’t remember, bothered him. It was cute. It reminded her of the day she first met him.

Dal had been eight, Rena only seven years old. She’d just been adopted by Marshall and Clarine and brought home to their house. It was the first time she’d ever ridden in a cab, and one of the few times her parents had spent money for transportation instead of walking home from the transit station. Dal was playing in his front yard at the end of the street. When Rena climbed out of the cab, he stopped what he was doing and stared at her. A few seconds later, he waved. Rena didn’t know how to respond, so she didn’t. Dal stuck his hands in his pockets and pretended to look away until Marshall and Clarine escorted Rena into their house. Now Dal was seventeen, and aside from being taller, he still looked like that little boy in his front yard, unsure of what to do with himself.

They reached the corner of their street and came to a stop. Dal seemed like he wanted to say something, but he just smiled.

See you tomorrow? Rena asked.

Dal nodded and turned down the sidewalk.

Rena watched him for a few seconds before she crossed the street, heading for the third house from the corner. A short, metal gate opened to a concrete walkway across a small front yard of grass. Her parents’ home was a freestanding structure, painted light blue—one of five approved colors for this neighborhood. While not as desirable as the multi-unit buildings closer to Esh’s Center, it was a decent place to live. The adults did what they could to keep it that way, and voting to limit the paint choices gave the neighborhood a sense of order. Rena didn’t much care for any of the colors. They were too bright. But it was none of her business. She wouldn’t need to worry about things like that for over a year.

As she grabbed the handle of her plain, white front door, a sensor recognized the implant in her hand and unlocked it. The door swung inward and right away, Rena smelled the familiar aroma of vegetable soup. Clarine always kept dinner simple during the week. After work, she only had an hour or so to pick up Suzanne from daycare and Gareth from school, get them home, and put together a quick meal before Marshall came home. There wasn’t enough time for anything elaborate, not that they could have afforded it anyway. Credits were always tight.

Gareth was sprawled out on the living room floor. The five-year-old had his markers scattered across the carpet, most of them with their caps off. He was so focused on his artwork that he didn’t even look up when she walked over to him.

Rena tilted her head to get a better look at the building he was coloring. Hey, cutie.

Gareth smiled, but he still didn’t look up.

What are you working on?

My house.

Judging by the number of windows, the building was about forty stories tall. It would have fit in perfectly at the Center, where canopyscrapers were the norm. You plan on being a highrate when you grow up?

Yep, he answered without a second’s hesitation.

Rena? her mom called.

Through the doorway into the kitchen, Rena could see Suzanne in her high chair. She had something orange all over her face. A second later, Clarine peeked out from behind the doorframe. Where were you?

I went out for a run. It wasn’t technically a lie.

Your dad’s almost home. We’ll eat in about ten minutes.

OK. I’m just going to clean up, Rena said, turning to head down the hallway toward her room at the back of the house.

What happened to your pants?

Rena stopped and looked down at her knees. Oh yeah. I tripped in the grass at the commons. Too many people there today. That was a lie.

Oh. Well … try to rinse them out before you throw them in the laundry. I don’t want them to stain.

OK, Rena said, already walking down the hall. She went straight into the bathroom and locked the door. When she reached to turn on the faucet, she noticed dried blood on her fingers.

Mine or theirs?

As she leaned forward to get a better look, something clanked against the edge of the countertop. She glanced down and realized it had come from the front of her jacket.

The knife!

She must have put it in her pocket as she ran away from the Barrens. Why hadn’t she noticed it until now? She reached into her jacket and pulled out a narrow strip of metal about twice the length of her hand. It was a piece of scrap that looked like it had been torn off a machine. The dull half was wrapped with some sort of twine, serving as a handle. The sharpened half was covered in dried blood.

She ran it under the water to wash off the blood, then set it on the counter while she took off her jacket and inspected it. Fortunately, the fabric was dark blue. But the inside of the pocket was purple where it had soaked up blood from the knife. There were even a few spatters on her sleeve. She rinsed those areas before removing her shoes and pants. The only stains she found there were from the dirt and weeds of the Barrens. Once her clothing was free of any signs of the afternoon’s incident, she washed her face and hands. Then she concealed the knife in the bundle of her clothes and hurried across the hall to her bedroom. She hid the weapon under her mattress and threw her clothes in the laundry basket before sitting down on her bed to catch her breath.

Her heart was thumping in her chest as though she were in the middle of a workout. Dal was right. How could anyone have a situation like that under control? Had she done that before? Fought with grown men? Was that why she couldn’t remember much of anything from the first seven years of her life? Anything before the police found her in that dumpster in the alley?

Clarine?

It was Rena’s dad. His muffled voice had come from down the hall. Rena hadn’t even heard him come in.

Clarine? he called again. Come out here, please.

Rena went to her door and opened it just enough to peek out into the hallway. She could see that the front door was open. Marshall was standing in the entry with two police officers. He still had his jacket draped over his arm—he’d just gotten home from work but hadn’t made it all the way inside the house yet.

Marshall. What’s going on? Clarine asked, walking toward the door with a towel in her hand.

Rena closed her bedroom door and grabbed a pair of pajama pants from her dresser. She knew exactly what was going on. Kirti had told her parents about the stolen credits and her parents had ‘versed the police.

That was fast!

Rena Waite! Come out here, right now! It was Marshall’s voice again, more upset than she’d ever heard him.

Coming!

No. Right now!

As soon as she was clothed, Rena opened her door. The police officers were now standing inside, but the front door was still open. Clarine was asking them to come into the living room and sit down.

No, thank you, ma’am. We just need to speak with your daughter.

Marshall glared down the hallway at Rena. His eyes were squinting in that frustrated expression he got sometimes. He was a patient man, but this was too much for him. He tossed his coat toward the couch and motioned with his finger for Rena to come.

There was no way of getting out of this one. That much was obvious. Rena took a deep breath and walked down the hall. As she approached the group of adults, she noted her mom’s disappointed frown. Clarine helped Gareth pick up his markers and go into the kitchen with Suzanne.

Rena, Marshall said, these officers are here to ask you some questions. You’re going to answer every single one.

No lies, Clarine added, looking back over her shoulder.

Rena nodded.

Hi, Rena. I’m Officer Dougherty, said the tall one, extending his hand. He had black hair and a pudgy face.

Rena shook his hand.

This is Officer Naylor.

Rena shook Naylor’s hand as well, noting the scar running through his left eyebrow. She wondered what had caused it.

We understand you were out in the Barrens earlier this afternoon. Is that correct?

Rena nodded.

Speak up, Marshall said.

Yes, sir, Rena answered the officer.

Dougherty lifted one of his hands and turned it palm upward. A holographic display of text appeared in the air above it—the report he was assembling on the incident. Most citizens couldn’t afford an implanted connection device, called an interminal, but police officers needed them. The risk of losing or damaging an exterminal was too high. You were there with a Ms. Kirti Vasu and a Mr. Dalyn Rigby. Is that correct?

Yes, sir.

And what were you doing out there?

I found an old, dead tree, and I wanted to show them.

Clarine came back from the kitchen with her forehead scrunched into dozens of intersecting wrinkles.

So, you’ve been out there more than once? Officer Dougherty asked.

Yes, sir. I go there sometimes to run.

Dougherty nodded as he watched the report update itself based on Rena’s answers. Then he looked up. Are you aware that Commons Three is nearby? It would be a more appropriate location for exercise.

Rena glanced at Marshall. He and Clarine contributed to the Commons Maintenance Association for just that reason. Yes, sir. I go there sometimes as well, she said, looking back to the officer. But it’s crowded and …

Officer Dougherty didn’t wait for her to find the words. Well, as I’m sure you’re now aware, the Barrens are quite dangerous. Even the Outskirts are becoming unsafe.

Yes, sir—

Rena, what happened? Clarine asked.

Marshall held up his hand. Clarine, let the officers handle this.

Rena’s dad was usually the first to jump in and take charge of a conversation. His deferring to the police officers was either a demonstration of his respect, or a sign that his frustration was beyond his control, causing him to give up. Rena hoped it was the first one.

Officer Dougherty nodded before looking back at Rena. So, you went there to show them this tree. What happened after that?

Rena recounted the afternoon’s events, all the way up to their running back inside the city. She was careful to put all the details in chronological order so she wouldn’t get in any more trouble than she already was. By the time she finished, Clarine had her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. Marshall was massaging his forehead.

Officer Dougherty glanced up from his report and nodded for the hundredth time. "It looks like another unit is just finishing up at the scene. They found blood from the assailants, but no weapon. Do you have the knife?"

Yes, sir.

RENA! Clarine said.

Marshall didn’t bother restraining her this time. He seemed just as shocked, turning away from the conversation and putting both hands on his hips.

Get it, please, Dougherty said.

Rena walked down the hall and into her bedroom. As she reached under the mattress, she could hear Marshall talking to Officer Dougherty.

Who were these people?

Outliers, most likely. It’s getting worse every year.

But why would they need credits? Clarine asked.

Ma’am, said Officer Naylor, finally joining the conversation. Unfortunately, there are people in our community who give their purchased goods away in exchange for stolen credits. It undermines our entire economy.

Rena realized she had forgotten to tell them that the assailants had ratings. They were citizens, not Outliers.

If this upsets you as much as it does us, Officer Dougherty added, I would encourage you to get involved in public safety matters. Our hands are tied unless we get the support we need to address these concerns. Most citizens don’t want to think about it until something like this happens.

Yes, of course. We’ll do that, Marshall said.

Rena walked back down the hall and handed the knife to Officer Dougherty. She was about to tell him the missing detail about the assailants when her dad interrupted.

Is this going to affect our ratings?

Dougherty inspected the knife before handing it to his partner. Naylor. We’re almost done here. Why don’t you wait outside for me?

Officer Naylor nodded before stepping out and shutting the front door.

When he was gone, Officer Dougherty turned to Rena’s parents. "Unfortunately, the incident this afternoon will reflect negatively on your ratings. I’m sure you’re well aware that having a weapon of any kind is illegal. However, since your daughter turned over the knife, I’ll consider that when submitting my report."

Marshall nodded.

Thank you, Clarine said.

Officer Dougherty looked down at Rena. My recommendation … stay away from the Barrens. Don’t even go to the Outskirts. It’s not safe anymore. If you need a place to exercise, stick to the commons. That’s what it’s for.

Yes, sir.

Dougherty smiled. Mr. and Mrs. Waite. Thank you for your time.

Yes. Thank you, Officer, Marshall said, opening the door for him.

Dougherty joined Naylor on the front walkway and the two headed toward the street.

Marshall closed the door and let out the breath he’d been holding.

Clarine turned to Rena. Sit down, she said, motioning to the couch in the living room.

Rena had hoped to escape a lecture, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. She took a seat on the couch and waited while her parents paced in front of her, deciding what to say.

First of all, Clarine began, we’re relieved that you weren’t hurt by those men. They could have taken a lot more than credits.

Marshall nodded. That’s right.

I know, Rena said.

And if something ever happened … Clarine added, but her words got stuck in her throat.

Marshall took the opportunity to move the conversation away from such grim thoughts. Rena, you’re going to be seventeen in just a few months. And then you’ll only have a year before your conversion.

Every citizen was given a rating at birth. One to one hundred. A percentile in relation to everyone else in Esh. At the age of six, that rating converted to monetary credits that were immediately available for use. Six-year-olds didn’t need to buy anything, but they still needed to learn the concept of credit responsibility. So their conversion rate was one-to-one. One credit for every rating point. At age twelve, the conversion rate became one-to-one hundred. At age eighteen, it was one-to-one thousand. That was the stage at which a citizen was considered an adult, and if one was responsible, he or she would have already have been working for a few years to save up credits for the big conversion.

You’re old enough to make your own decisions, Marshall continued. And most of the time you’re fairly responsible. But then you have these … incidents.

Clarine jumped in as if this whole speech had been choreographed. Your father and I don’t put many expectations on you, but we’re very disappointed right now. You know you shouldn’t be going out to the Barrens. You’re so much smarter than that.

It’s not illegal, Rena replied. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them.

That’s what I’m talking about … right there, Marshall said, his voice getting louder. Just because something’s legal doesn’t mean it’s good for you to do. You need to start thinking in terms of positives and negatives. Before you do anything, ask yourself if it could raise or lower your rating. That’s what it means to be an adult. And if you don’t learn that now, you’re in for a struggle the rest of your life.

A loud crash sounded from the kitchen.

Mom?! Gareth yelled. Suzanne spilled.

Hold on, Clarine replied, walking a few steps toward the kitchen.

I’ll tell you one thing, Marshall said, like nothing had happened, you’re not hanging out with Dal anymore.

Dad! Dal had nothing to do with this.

I’m serious. When you two get together, you get into trouble. He’s a bad influence on you, and I don’t want you associated with him anymore.

Rena got up from the couch. That’s not true! If anything, I’m a bad influence on him.

Really? What’s he rated?

Rena looked down at the 013 on her hand. Dal was rated 011, but she didn’t want to say it. A person’s number didn’t necessarily mean they were a good or bad influence.

Marshall raised his eyebrows as if to say, I told you so.

Clarine continued into the kitchen to deal with Suzanne’s mess.

Rena stood in the living room with her hands balled into fists. She didn’t care what Marshall said. She was never going to stop hanging out with Dal. He was her best friend. She thought back to that first day in school, right after her adoption, when everything was new and strange. She’d felt so out of place. Alone. Then Dal came up and introduced himself. He said he lived down the street and asked if she wanted to play. That’s when Rena recognized him as the boy who’d stared at her when she first arrived at Marshall and Clarine’s house. He’d been there from the beginning. Her first friend. She wouldn’t give that up if the Founders themselves were alive and standing in this living room, ordering her to do it.

Clarine came back from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. Marshall was still pacing. They made eye contact for a second before Clarine eased back into the conversation. What I’m most concerned about is what you did to those men.

Rena unclenched her fists. The comment was so unexpected she didn’t know how to respond. What?

Clarine came a step closer and took Rena’s hand. Do you remember Dr. Mallory?

Yeah?

That first year after we brought you home, you got in several fights at school. We took you to see her and she said it was a coping mechanism. Something you did to control your environment when you felt unsafe.

Yeah? Rena repeated.

Clarine locked eyes with Marshall for a moment before continuing. I know you were just defending yourself and your friends, but you really hurt those men today. The one you stabbed could even be dead by now, for all we know.

Mom!

Clarine squeezed Rena’s hand. You said you didn’t even realize what you were doing. You just reacted. Rena, there are going to be plenty of times in your life when you feel scared. What’s going to come out of you next time? What happens if you do something that can’t be fixed?

Mom, they were going to hurt Kirti and Dal.

I’m going to ‘verse Dr. Mallory, Clarine said, ignoring Rena’s comment. We need to get control of this … for your sake.

I think that’s a good idea, Marshall added.

Rena wanted to object. She wanted to say counseling wasn’t necessary. But she’d never stabbed anyone before. Never broken someone’s leg or slashed their wrist. She’d never had the police come into her house. Today was an unusual day. Perhaps it required an unusual response.

Let’s sit down and have some dinner, Clarine said quietly.

I’m not hungry. I think I’ll just go to my room and lay down.

OK, Clarine said, letting go of Rena’s hand.

Maybe spend some time thinking about how you want your life to turn out, Marshall said.

Rena nodded but didn’t reply as she walked down the hallway.

003

Lukas stepped through the open door and rapped his knuckles on the cold, polished surface. You wanted to see me, sir?

Director Terrell looked up from his seated position behind a large metal desk. His silver hair and gray eyes echoed the rigid feeling of the office. Yes. Close the door and have a seat.

Lukas did as he was told, settling himself into one of two uncomfortable chairs facing the desk. If he had been any one of the other thousands of operatives who worked for Outlier Control, he might have been nervous. But he had a special relationship with the director. Terrell appreciated intelligence and talent above all else, and Lukas had an abundance of both.

I wanted to show you something, Terrell said, waving his hand toward one of the two-dimensional screens on the wall of his spacious office. It flickered to life and began playing what appeared to be footage from an old security camera. Tell me what you see.

Lukas sat up straighter in his chair. This was obviously another of the director’s tests of which he was so fond. It’s from the Barrens, Lukas began, noting a slight gradient in the color of the foggy sky at the center of the footage, telling him which direction the sun was shining. East. Segment Three.

What else?

Lukas ignored the four people in the footage for the moment and concentrated his attention on the less-obvious details. It was a discipline instilled in all operatives from their earliest moments of service, and one the director was sure to appreciate. From the elevated position, I’d say this is from a rooftop camera. Time of day is … about seventeen hundred.

Eighteen zero nine this evening, to be precise, the director said. I had the footage run through image processing to filter out the fog, so it appears to be earlier than it is. Keep going.

Now Lukas let himself take in the details of the people in the footage. Three males. Age could be anywhere between mid-twenties to late-forties. The glow around their hands suggests they’re in the system, but lowrates, judging by the dirtiness and thickness of their clothing. Outskirt thieves.

What about the other?

Lukas leaned forward in his chair. Female. Fourteen to eighteen. Well rated. Wrong place at the wrong time. She’s about to get her credits stolen.

Good, Terrell said with a smile. Now keep watching. When it’s finished, I want you to tell me why this is important.

As the footage progressed, Lukas watched the thieves in the foreground swipe the girl’s credits with a portable scanner. In the background, two people came running. One dropped to the ground a few seconds before the next. They were too far away for the thieves to notice, but the image processing allowed Lukas to see them clearly enough. He could already tell by their movements that one was female, the other male. Both were young. The female got up and started jogging toward the group.

Do we have audio?

No, Terrell answered.

Lukas wished he could hear what the newcomer was saying, but he could tell by the men’s body language that they didn’t consider her a threat. There was some back and forth, but the second girl was doing most of the talking. Then she walked right past one of the thieves and embraced the first girl, indicating they were friends. Interesting technique.

The director nodded, but kept silent.

The two girls were making their way toward the city when one of the thieves finally realized what was happening and jogged over to them. When he took hold of one of the girl’s wrists, the young male got up and ran toward the conflict. As soon as his presence was known, the body language of the men shifted into combative mode. One pulled out what looked like a knife. Lukas was watching his movements so closely he almost missed the preemptive attack, not expecting it to come from one of the girls. He suddenly got up from his chair and moved closer to the screen, watching it unfold with disbelief. When the three youths ran away, the assailants were still on the ground. Then the screen went dark.

Lukas turned to his director, surprised by the abrupt end to the footage.

Tell me what you saw, Terrell said.

Lukas walked back to his chair and sat down. There were maybe two or three possible ways of coming out of that situation alive. And hundreds of ways to end up dead.

"Those are unlikely odds."

She’s had training, then.

Terrell smiled. I knew I picked the right man for this operation.

Lukas didn’t bother trying to hide his surprise. Wow! Thank you, sir.

The director rose from his chair. Another wave of his hand brought the screen to life again, showing video clips of the same girl running through the Outskirts. Climbing over fences. Throwing rocks.

Her name is Rena Waite, adopted daughter of Marshall and Clarine Waite. They’re a lower-middlerate family living in Segment Three. They have two other adopted children. Gareth, five. Suzanne is two. Nothing particularly interesting about them. The parents are both productive citizens. Marshall works as an efficiency consultant, and Clarine is a part-time logistics supervisor at their local food distribution center.

Why do we have this footage of the daughter?

Director Terrell leaned against his desk, crossing his arms. "Rena