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The Lying Planet Page 16


  I wish I’d done a lot of things differently in my life. I could’ve had more fun, worked less…played more hopscotch or helioball or jump rope with Rachel and Tammi. Taken more chances. Joked more. With luck, in eight days I’ll get banished from Sanctuary and leave everything I’ve done behind. I’ll be released into the outer zones, which might be full of genomide dust.

  Freedom at last.

  Funny thing, the thought doesn’t bring me much comfort.

  About an hour later, Farrow finally decides to pay me a visit. I stop pacing as he strolls down the hall with Rourke.

  The commander halts before my cell, his hawkish features drawn into a severe frown. “What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Lawton? Your actions and that of your partners in crime inconvenienced a lot of people. Plus, we completely lost three worrels. I’m baffled by your actions lately, which include violating the safety of the perimeter fence and giving a younger boy a bloody nose. Do you care to explain your motives?”

  Unable to keep eye contact, I start pacing again. My mind whirls. I need to spin a tale based on scraps of truth, not the whole truth. That’s what Peyton would do.

  “Blake’s banishment threw me off,” I say. “I lost confidence in the Machine. How in the twelve galaxies is it perfectly accurate? Does it ever make mistakes? Because if it’s wrong, I could end up banished. My whole life would be ruined, all my plans for the future.”

  “I see,” Farrow says. “Continue.”

  “Uh, so that got me to thinking. I realized my life has been mostly hard work, and I never had much fun. I felt guilty when I took time off to play helioball. I got scorched that Aubrie was sobbing over Blake, when he’d been rebellious. What did I get for being responsible? Nothing. Not even my girlfriend’s loyalty. That’s why I lost it when Konrad said Aubrie had a secret thing going on with Blake.”

  Commander Farrow nods. “It’s possible you took your work ethic to an extreme. But that doesn’t change what you’ve done. I sincerely wonder if Miss McKennis will still want to be your girlfriend after all your recent misbehavior.” He pauses, his expression hardening. “On another note, do you know anything about Mr. Redmond’s whereabouts? If you do, this is your chance to come clean and counteract your recent disobedience.”

  My heart starts galloping in my chest. Now there’s a loaded question. “What do you mean, his whereabouts?”

  “He hasn’t been seen since early this morning.”

  I’m sure I look shocked and pale, but that might be understandable to Farrow, considering I worked with Mr. Redmond a lot. “I didn’t go to the fence yesterday like I usually do—you don’t think a vermal attacked him or something, do you?”

  “No. He’s simply…missing. And his laser pistol has been stolen.” He studies my face, his eyes boring into mine.

  Sudden sweat prickles my armpits. “Uh, that’s weird. He carries that gun in his utility belt all the time. How does anyone know it’s stolen if they can’t even find him?”

  The commander dismisses my words with a twitch of his head, and his intensity fades. “Not that pistol. One from his workshop at home.”

  I sense it’s safe to change the subject, which I’m more than ready to do. “Sorry to hear that. I’m not going to be locked up until my ceremony, am I?”

  “No. You’re going back to training sessions on Monday, as are Miss Rainey and Mr. Wright. But your hoverbike privileges have been withdrawn. You’ll be driven by UHV to your sessions, and afterward driven to community work locations that I will predetermine. The Nebula is strictly off limits. A guard will supervise your after-session hours to make certain you don’t absorb any undesirable influences.”

  So it seems the Nebula is useful for punishment as well as for motivation and work opportunities. “Undesirable influences. You mean from Peyton and Leonard.”

  “Correct. While talking to them isn’t forbidden, spending time with them is. The lieutenants and I are giving you one last chance to cooperate. We expect to see better behavior prior to your ceremony. If you don’t make wise choices, you will promptly return here to wait out your remaining time. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.” My insides flop. The horde values choice for quality’s sake, and I need to snatch any chance to keep lowering my score.

  Farrow nods to the guard. “Rourke, prepare a vehicle to drive Mr. Lawton home.”

  “Yes, sir.” He follows his master down the hall. A second later, a door slams.

  When Rourke returns, he escorts me outside. I climb into a gray UHV docked by the permawalk. We ride in stiff silence through zone center and head north, fields and units whipping by as though the rest of my life is running out way too fast.

  Rourke halts in front of my unit. “The remainder of this weekend, you’ll be confined to your dwelling, doing chores that your mother will supervise. I’ll be here at seven forty-five on Monday to pick you up for training. Be ready and standing on the front pavement.”

  I get out and slam the UHV door, hard.

  …

  Humiliation. That’s the word. Humiliation beyond belief, to be dropped off at the education compound by a detention center guard like a delinquent. Monday morning, I stride away from Rourke’s UHV as fast as I can, merging with the students getting off a hoverbus. Curious stares sting me like nettleburs. Is that part of Commander Farrow’s plan—to make my shame as public and demeaning as possible? It was bad enough I had to be under Mom’s disapproving thumb all weekend, scrubbing toilets and cleaning floors and windows.

  I scan the crowd for Aubrie and spot her climbing the front steps. Two guards flank the entrance doors ahead of her, possibly posted to keep me from skipping again. I bet there are guards at the exits, too.

  “Aubrie, hold on!” I break into a jog to catch up with her.

  She turns, her expression edgy, as though she wants to make a run for it. The guards eye us with stern expressions. Still, she waits.

  I steer her inside to an empty hall. Her gaze skids away from mine. “How are you doing?” I ask in a low voice. “Have you decided to try the banishment idea?”

  She studies her fingernails. “No, I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

  “Then…what are you going to do?” I totally fail at keeping desperation from my voice. She’d better not be planning to march to her execution with her values in place.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe try to escape.” She lifts her hands to the Spoken-For necklace and unclasps it. “But one thing I’m sure of. I talked with Peyton yesterday and realized I need to break up with you. I’m not going to pretend anymore. I’ve been living a lie ever since the Harvest Equinox party, but I didn’t realize it until Blake was banished. I’d rather be with him if I can.” She tucks the necklace into one of my hands, closes my fingers over it, and gives my knuckles a light pat.

  “You—what? What does Peyton have to do with any of this?” I blink, trying to make sense of her words.

  “Please, don’t make this harder.” She rests her slender hand on my forearm. “We’ll always have a special bond, Jay, but it’s not going to work out. Especially with the things you’ve been doing lately. I’d be in the way.”

  She rushes off, leaving me to stare after her. She just dumped me. I’ve been wanting to break up with her anyway, but her words about Blake are slamming me more than I want to admit. She’s choosing him over me? How is she planning to escape—and what in the aqua hills does Peyton have to do with her decision?

  My focus shifts and narrows as I stuff the necklace into my pocket. I have to find out what sort of warped mind games Peyton is playing. She has no business messing with my relationship, not when I needed Aubrie as a cover for Mom and the Board, to pretend everything was normal while I carried out my banishment plans.

  I storm down the hall. No sign of Peyton anywhere. I sweep into the courtyard. Spotting Leonard’s straight-up hairstyle above the crowd, I charge over.

  “Where’s Peyton?” I ask, grabbing his arm and interrupting his conversation with another guy.r />
  Leonard yelps. “Don’t blame me, Jay-Jay. I had nothing to do with it. She’s over there.” His other arm shoots out, one skinny finger pointing to a corner bench where Peyton sits with a media center reader.

  She looks up as I glare at her. I release Leonard and let him rush away with the other guy. Peyton sets down the reader and stands as I cross the courtyard.

  I halt in front of her. “What’ve you done to Aubrie? What did you tell her about Blake and the party to make her break up with me?”

  A frown flashes across her face. “Hi, Jay. I got thrown in a confinement cell and had to work all weekend, too, thanks. I got shot with a tranq like a heifer, and yes, it still hurts. How are you?”

  “Answer the question.”

  She lifts her chin. “I didn’t give her any new ideas, if that’s what you think. I was actually kind of weirded out when she came by my unit, because she doesn’t usually talk to me much. But she knew I’d hung around Blake. She was upset about you being in detention and your banishment plans, and we had ourselves an awkward chat. I pointed out a few things. She saw the truth and decided what to do about it herself.”

  “The truth?”

  “Yeah.” Her expression is firm. “That she should be with Blake, not you. At that Harvest Equinox party, you started out with me and she was hanging around Blake. You stepped in and changed everything around. The next day, she was your girlfriend. I know you liked her a lot, but she was also like some sort of twisted trophy you stole from under Blake’s nose.”

  “What?” That’s outrageous. Sure, I enjoyed his disappointment—maybe a bit too much—but that wasn’t the reason I did it. “When I asked Aubrie to partner up for the sack races, she could’ve said no if she really wanted Blake. He was standing right there.”

  “I know. I saw everything when I came to find you after the greshfruit bobbing. She had to choose between you guys, and even though she likes you, she chose wrong.”

  My chest is so tight it’s hard to breathe. “I didn’t force her to do the races with me and I didn’t force her to be my girlfriend. Besides, you were flirting with Xavier that night, and Blake was running around flirting with that wild girl, Marnica. I bet that had something to do with Aubrie realizing Blake was a jerk and choosing me instead.”

  “Whoa now, hold on. Xavier and I were never flirting. What the dung hill are you talking about?”

  “I came back with cups of punch, and you were laughing with him and shoving him around. Sure looked like flirting to me.”

  She snorts. “Boy, did you get that one wrong. He was teasing me about you! Making bets that we’d end up together. And for your information, Blake flirted with Marnica after Aubrie did the sack races with you. To try to make her jealous. He told Aubrie that a few months ago.”

  My brain stutters, trying to process the Xavier thing along with everything else. “Aubrie filled you in on these heartwarming details yesterday?”

  “Yeah.” She props her hands on her hips and moves closer, her face tilted up to mine. “Blake’s first choice was Aubrie. Was she yours?”

  “Of course she was,” I snap, my mind spinning out of control. “You have no right to give advice to her. Just because you felt burned when I chose her for the races instead of you—”

  “This could save her life, Jay.” Peyton lowers her voice to a throaty rumble. “Ditch your competition with Blake and move on. She wants me to help her escape next week and find him. That’s better than her plan of dying like a martyr because she’s too sweet to do what it takes to get herself banished.”

  I stare at her stubborn face while words knot up on my tongue. Heat flares between us in a tangible way, pulsing like a high-voltage charge.

  Peyton stares back. “At least this way there’s a chance for her to live.”

  “It’s a terrible idea,” I say. “After Rich and Mr. Redmond, trying to escape is too risky. The Board will kill you instead of punishing you if you’re caught. Plus, Blake was meeting someone in the woods for a whole year. Even though Konrad said he looked less enthusiastic later on, Blake kept sneaking out to meet her for some reason. I bet you conveniently forgot to tell Aubrie that. You can’t let her think she can get together with him when he might be into someone else. He risked banishment because of that other girl.”

  “Not even if it’ll save Aubrie’s life?”

  We’re standing so close her whisper puffs across my jaw. I stare into the intensity of her eyes, and suddenly I’m not so sure anymore. “Maybe,” I say at last. “But if Blake and this other girl are still together, it won’t be fair to Aubrie. She’ll be crushed.”

  “Better brokenhearted than dead. Worry about that possibility later. This week you need to keep working on your banishment—and it’s safer for Aubrie not to be hanging around while you do that. This will also give you a good excuse to rebel, because people will think you went crazy from the breakup. Right?”

  I back up, away from the soft pleading in her eyes. Only a few other students are left in the courtyard, and it’s almost time for training to start. She’s probably right that Aubrie and Blake should be together. But that doesn’t instantly dissolve everything that’s boiling in my blood.

  “You had no right to interfere,” I say, my voice clipped and hard.

  I stride off, leaving her standing with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

  Chapter Twenty

  At lunchtime I stand in the education compound chowhall with a loaded food tray. Aubrie sits nearby with two girls, while at another table Harrel sits with Misty and Sean. Harrel shoots me an uncertain but sympathetic look and waves me over.

  I walk across the room and plunk down my tray. “Hey, Harrel. Thanks, you guys, for being willing to sit with me after I’ve been stuck in a detention cell.”

  Misty shakes her head. “What were you thinking, Jay? I came around the corner and thought I was seeing things in the worrel pen. You never do stuff like that.”

  “Bad influences?” Next to me, Sean jerks his head toward a table where Peyton and Leonard are sitting.

  My gaze bounces away from Peyton. I’ve cooled off enough that I don’t feel like smoke is shooting from my ears anymore, but the whole idea of Aubrie preferring Blake still stabs me more than I’d like. “I do have a mind of my own, thanks,” I say, biting into my sausage pie and talking around the mouthful. “I had my reasons. Good reasons. Like I told Farrow, the last ceremony really messed me up because of Blake flunking, and now Aubrie…” I break off, not trusting my voice. It’s gone all annoyingly shaky. Not because I’m upset we’re not together anymore, but because I don’t want her to die.

  Sean thumps my back. “We heard you guys broke up. Kind of makes for awkward lunches. The girls ran off and got their own table.”

  “What am I, chopped worrel?” Misty says with a sniff.

  “Sorry. All the girls except Misty.”

  Harrel’s jaw is tight, his shoulders taut as he meets my eye. “Sorry to hear about you and Aubrie. But you’re right about us letting Misty and Sean know what’s going on. I’ve waited way too long.”

  I nearly choke on my sausage pie, and set it down. “Yeah, let’s get it over with. We’re running out of time.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Sean says, a frown shading his greenish eyes. “Is this thing you’re going to lay on us the reason you’ve been acting weird lately, skipping classes and pulling stunts with worrels?”

  “Yeah.” I lower my voice. “We’re going to let you and Misty in on a secret. You can’t talk about it with adults, because if they find out what we know, we’re dead.”

  Misty clutches Harrel’s arm, her face waxy. “Dead, as in literally?”

  “Yes. Rich Vorley is gone,” I say. “Supposedly to Fort Hope for appendicitis. But we suspect worse.”

  At that revelation, Harrel looks like he’s swallowed something rancid. One of the adult monitors drifts closer, so Harrel motions toward the exit. “Let’s go find a deserted classroom where we can
talk.”

  We finish our food in a hurry and return our trays. As we’re stepping from the chowhall, Rourke steps forward from where he was leaning against a wall. “If you’re finished eating, Mr. Lawton, I’ll escort you to your next classroom.”

  Fuse it all. He was only supposed to keep an eye on me before and after training, not between sessions. I start to protest, but Harrel fake punches my shoulder.

  “I got this, man,” he says. “Catch ya later.”

  Careful that Rourke doesn’t see what I’m doing, I fish the imprintus from my pocket and hand it to Harrel without a word. He strides off with Misty and Sean on his heels.

  Sean, nearly a head taller than Harrel, glances back over his shoulder at me standing with Rourke.

  His face looks more worried than I’ve ever seen it.

  …

  The whole barn stinks as if it’s built of cow manure. I stand mucking by myself on Tuesday afternoon, my shovel scraping the floor, my shirt drenched with sweat. It’s sweltering outside the milking barn, and downright humid inside. A couple of hundred meters away, near the dairy unit, Rourke lounges in the afternoon shade talking to Misty’s mom, who hasn’t done any supervising in the last twenty minutes.

  Mucking. A disgusting but fitting punishment for my misbehavior here. I’m betting at this moment Commander Farrow is sitting somewhere cool and pleasant-smelling with a smile playing on his lips at the poetic justice of it all. Not that these cursed aliens seem to sweat much or mind the heat. No wonder Mr. Redmond worked on fence boards with a beyond-human endurance and hardly any sweat. He wasn’t human.

  I wipe my arm across my forehead. My feet itch inside my overboots and my hands are baking inside my gloves. My left shoulder, where I was shot, protests with a sharp ache as I transfer another sloppy shovelful to the manure cart. I haven’t been able to do much toward getting banished lately. It’ll all count from the Machine’s perspective, but I need to do something major to tip the scales…in case executing Mr. Redmond wasn’t enough. Like if it factors in that I was protecting Peyton and adds a bunch of points for being heroic. But I can’t do anything huge with Rourke shadowing me everywhere.