Heightened: The Federation Series Read online

Page 4


  We travel by Transportation shuttle. Smith is busy on his equipment for the first five minutes, and Max is asleep. I look out the window.

  “I figured it out,” Smith says. “Do you remember the debriefing about the theft in the West City?”

  “Yeah, why,” I ask?

  “There was another theft in the East City last night, at the Galleria,” he says. “We can investigate.”

  “Change the schedule before Max wakes up,” I say.

  “Ahead of ya,” he says, “it’s already been approved.”

  “I’ve missed the Under,” I say.

  “It’s the only place to spend the Heightening,” he says. “I hope I can find that female from last year.”

  “Maybe this year you’ll get her name,” I laugh.

  “Why would I want to do that,” he asks?

  “What are you idiots talking about,” Max asks? “Are we there yet?”

  “Schedule change,” Smith says, “we’re looking for a thief.”

  “Let me guess,” he laughs. “In the Under, how convenient.”

  The rest of the ride we talk about past years, and all the females that have had the pleasure of our company. Tonight is my fourth Heightening, and they are never dull. But this year promises to be interesting. The Council has issued warnings and tighter security. We might just be spending our night detaining, and neutralizing unruly citizens and interns.

  The shuttle stops, and we head to the security office. Max joins the other commanders, and Smith and I separate into tech and grunt. I have the lobby as my first assignment, and then I have to scan the forum and banquet hall. After that, I have receptor duty, which I dislike, but I manage to get every year.

  This year, unlike past years, we are heavily armed. The lobby is quiet. A few Proctors and some of the administration scurry past me, but I’m having a difficult time focusing and standing steady because I am exhausted.

  I’m almost to the point that I think I might have to call for a break, when a Proctor and a student hurry across the lobby and disappear down the laborer hall.

  “Access map, scan for life force.”

  I find the pair on my visual display. I watch their indicators descend into the basement and stop in a janitor closet.

  “Identify and assess.”

  ASSESSMENT: Adam Benson, male, 24, Education, vital signs: standard; Emma Green, female, unknown, Agriculture, vital signs: unknown.

  “Clarify unknown.”

  CLARIFICATION: information unavailable

  How is that possible? I’m about to go investigate when the Proctor reappears. He has a smile on his face, and I recognize him immediately. I had gone to pre-occupation education with his brother. In our intern year, his brother was banished. Their father, Atticus Benson, is running for Federation Council, and no one dares run against him.

  I continue to monitor the girl. Her assessment doesn’t change. I’ve never come across a citizen with an unknown status. I decide to investigate her further. The other interns are filling up the lobby. I watch her quickly slip into her line. She looks directly at me. She looks terrified and lost.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Emma

  The hallway is empty. I head back to the lobby. I wait in the doorway, looking for my class. I see Sean. He averts his eyes in my direction, keeping his head in the Federation approved position; slightly bowed and square with our shoulders. Adam is at the front of our line. He doesn’t acknowledge me.

  I stand off to the side for a few more moments. Everyone is focused on their protocol, and too busy to notice me. I take a step into the lobby. I look to the stairway. There is a man standing, staring at me. I don’t stop. I step into my line.

  He watches me. He’s wearing a uniform; he’s a defense officer. I feel a push from behind.

  “Move,” says Sean. I look ahead of me. My line is moving. I take a quick step and fall into line.

  My cheeks are flushed. I wipe my face and straighten my jacket before I drop my hands to my side. My line is heading straight for the officer. I know I shouldn’t look, but I can’t help myself. I look up, our eyes meet. I recognize those golden brown eyes; I’ve looked into them almost every night for as long as I can remember. It’s him. I stop. Sean runs right into me. I can’t think. I can’t move. Sean pushes me. I stumble but quickly recover. I snap my head forward and continue with my line.

  “Quinn,” I whisper.

  He’s looking directly at me, and when I say his name he takes a step towards me but stops. I pass him. My heart is pounding so hard that I can feel it rage throughout my body. I don’t know what to do. I look over my shoulder. He’s only a few steps behind me.

  He follows us into the elevator. He stands next to the door. There is a girl named Kai between us. I look out of the corner of my eye at him. He is looking at me too. Our eyes meet again. Does he recognize me? I see him lean into Kai, pushing her into me. She leans away from me and quickly straightens herself. My heart is pounding. Why would he do that? I wonder if Kai can hear my heart. When the elevator stops the students file out, and I walk by him. I don’t look. He follows us. I enter the classroom and sit at my desk. All of the other students sit at their assigned desks, and we stare forward, waiting for our proctor. Adam enters, and the officer is right behind him. Adam looks at me. I remember his warning, ‘don’t tell anyone.’

  “I need to question her,” He points at me. The room is silent. I stand and walk to the front of the room. I don’t look at him. I wait for Adam to excuse me.

  “You may go.” Adam’s voice is stern. I look at him. His hands are balled up, and he is looking directly at me.

  He grabs me by the arm and pulls me into the hall. I don’t say anything. I’m shaking; I can feel him next to me. He tightens his grasp. He takes me to an empty room down the hall. He closes the door and turns to look at me. He is exactly as I dreamed. A stray curl drops from behind my ear, I brush it aside.

  “Your hair is a mess.” He steps closer to me, “and you’ve been crying?”

  “No,” I say. My head is down, and I try to maintain protocol. I think about my tree, my orchard, and the summer. But it doesn’t work this time. I look up at him; I can’t help myself.

  Any sign of emotion is in violation of the laws. I’m trembling. I bite down on my lower lip. Our eyes meet and maintain an intense connection. I quickly direct my stare over his shoulder. It takes all of my strength to keep my eyes averted.

  “Who freighted you?” He asks.

  “You,” I snap. I can feel the tears forming. I have imagined him being real, what I would say and do, and this is nothing like I imagined.

  “I’m an officer of the Federations defense unit,” he says. He grabs my face and makes me look at him. “I’m here to protect the citizens. Is there anything you’d like to tell me before I scan you?”

  “No,” I say. There are so many thoughts going through my head, now that I’ve found him. I want to tell him how happy I am to see him, and how I have always hoped he was real, but I don’t. He seems agitated.

  “What were you doing with Benson,” he asks?

  I don’t answer. I’m afraid to open my mouth. He looks exactly like Quinn, but he is not acting as I expect.

  “Are you complacent,” he asks?

  Complacent, no I’m defiant, and I’m making his job too easy. He could detain me, interrogate me, and no one would question his means or methods. Adam’s words come back to me; he said the old punishments are being utilized. That means banishment. I try to look away, but he squeezes my face and forces me to look at him.

  “How old are you,” he asks?

  I hesitate; he should know how old I am. Protocol requires him to use his program to scan any citizen in question. “I’m eighteen,” I say.

  “Perhaps it is the excitement of the day,” He says. He let’s go of my face and sits on the desk across from me. “It is a big day and an even bigger night. Let me ask you one more time, are you complacent?”

  “Yes,” I say. I
’m still shaking, partly because I’m terrified, and partly because he doesn’t seem to know me. How can I recognize him, and he not recognize me? Maybe I am insane, maybe I am too broken, and maybe, just maybe I should be banished for the betterment of society.

  “You said my name,” he says.

  “I didn’t,” I say. Something is wrong; it is not going as I imagined our reunion would play out. He does not know me.

  “That’s what you’re going to go with,” he asks?

  “I’m telling the truth,” I say.

  “We’ll see about that,” he says.

  “Yes,” I say. My voice is small.

  He’s looking at me like he’s trying to figure me out. I have a lot to hide, and I am not doing a great job concealing my flaws. I’ve waited a long time for today, and this might be my only chance to talk to him. I take a deep breath. I look up.

  Our eyes meet again. My shaking turns into a tremble. I don’t want to look away. I don’t care what the punishment is; I’m willing to risk it all for this one moment.

  “What is your name,” I ask?

  “You are not in the position to ask questions,” he says. “Why were you in the basement?”

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “Do you know why I detained you,” he asks?

  “No,” I respond.

  “Your initial scan contained errors,” he says. “Do you have any idea why that happened? The Federation is on high alert, and any non-complacent citizen is to be detained and neutralized.”

  He slides off the desk and steps towards me. I don’t move. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” I say. I stand up. He places his hand on his gun. I stop.

  “What are you doing,” he asks? “I’ll scan you with my program. If there are any errors I’ll get a receptor.”

  “What’s your name,” I ask, again?

  He looks at me for a moment. “Do you understand the consequences? Do you? I’ve given you enough warnings.”

  “I do,” I say. “I need to know.”

  “Why?”

  “You can arrest me,” I say. “I just have to know.”

  “You’re willing to risk banishment for a name?”

  I think about it for a minute. Banishment is the worst punishment. They send you beyond the walls and into the disease infested wastelands. No one ever returns.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Quinn Calder,” he says.

  “Thank you,” I say. My heart sinks, it’s him. Quinn is the name of the man in my nightmare.

  “Don’t you want to go back to your friends?”

  “No,” I say, unable to control the quiver in my voice. I can’t stop looking at him. I don’t want to leave him, now that I found him.

  “I can’t make you follow protocol,” he says. “But I can advise you that you are crossing a line that you can’t re-cross. You would never survive out there.”

  “I understand,” I say.

  “Why were you out of line,” he asks?

  “I don’t know.”

  “Really, because I think you do,” he says? “I can help. If someone hurt you, I can take care of it.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “That’s your story?” He smiles at me. “Did he touch you?”

  He’s still looking at me, and it’s making me uncomfortable. But I can’t take my eyes off of him. I look at his lips. I close my eyes, and I can see him by the lake.

  I cover my eyes with my hands. I shake my head. I start to cry; I can’t hold my tears back. I think about my sister, my father, Adam, and now Quinn. My entire day has been a mess, and it is only the morning. I start to laugh through my tears.

  “Are you okay,” he asks?

  “No,” I say. “Who are you? How are you here?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I never thought I’d meet you,” I say. I reach out to touch his face. “It’s you…how?”

  “I don’t know you,” he grabs my wrist.

  “No,” I say. “You don’t, why?”

  “You shouldn’t be upset,” he says. “How can you be feeling upset? Your program should be dulling you.”

  He does another quick scan with his program. He looks at me and then at his visual display. I can’t tell what he’s thinking; his face is like stone.

  I wipe my face and look at him. I’ve never told anyone that I can feel all of the human emotions, that I am broken. I’ve become a perfect citizen. I had to learn how to deceive and numb my feelings at a very early age. And now this man is standing before me, fully aware of my greatest flaw.

  “I’m not upset,” I say. “I think my program has a glitch. My transfer was abnormal this morning.”

  “Stay here,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

  He leaves the room. I take a deep breath and slump into a chair by the window. I let my hair down. I can see the courtyard, and beyond the shuttle station. If I leave and don’t look back, I can make it to the station before anyone knows I’m gone. I can slip away. He is the only reason that I stay, the reason I try so hard to conceal my flaws, and now I know it is all for nothing. He doesn’t know me. I am devastated. I wonder how far I can make it before they find me. The Federation has control of all of their citizens; only the banished can leave. Our programs keep us safe, healthy, and trapped.

  He opens the door. I don’t turn around. I stare out the window. The sun is touching my face; it’s warm. I smile. I am as close to my calming vision, as I have ever been.

  “You’ll be helping me today,” he says.

  I turn around and look at him. He’s leaning against a desk, arms folded and a scowl. I stand up and walk to him. He stands.

  “Come with me,” he says.

  I take a deep breath, my chest heaves and then I look at him. “Why?” I cover my mouth and look away. I can’t control myself.

  “Are you always this disobedient,” he asks?

  “Never,” I say. “I’m usually a perfect citizen.”

  “Why do you keep looking at me,” he asks? “Are you afraid of me?”

  “Yes,” I look away.

  “You need to have your system checked.”

  “Yes, I agree,” I whisper, “something is not right.”

  “When did you first notice?” He grabs a bag from the floor and opens it. He pulls out a computer and a portable scanner, which is capable of a full system scan. “Have a seat.”

  He points at the desk and chair closest to me. I obey. I place my hand on the receptor pad, and he begins to run diagnostics on me.

  “This morning,” I lie. I bite on my lip. I wonder if he can tell.

  “What are your symptoms,” he asks?

  “My upload was painful this morning,” I say.

  “That’s not possible,” he says.

  “Is that your only symptom?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “You seem to be experiencing emotions that are not protocol,” he says. “It’s almost like your heightening has started early. It might be possible.”

  I nod my head in agreement. I fight my emotions every day, but he is in Defense. He can focus his urges and concentrate them on his work, his aggression. Defense officers are allowed a higher level of emotions, especially on the anger scale. They are considered necessary to their work. They have to be able to react, in order to protect the Federation. They are still monitored and controlled by the government.

  I’m small and weak, and the constant restraint of emotions is more than I can handle. My hope is that tonight I will be able to release my frustrations and that tomorrow I will be able to control myself at a better level.

  He looks at his computer. My diagnostics must be complete. I can feel the low vibration as the computer resets me to my optimal operation mode.

  “This will take a few minutes,” he look at his watch. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “What would you like to know,” I ask? My words are calm and smooth, but inside I am panicking. Why is he asking me questions? I
s he testing me?

  “Your name is Emma?”

  “Yes,” I say. I concentrate on my breathing: slow and steady.

  “What does Emma like to do?”

  “I don’t understand?” I look at the desk, not at him. “All the information you need is on your computer.”

  He smiles at me. I hope he thinks he fixed me. I need to find a place to be alone. I need to go over everything that has happened to me this morning. I need to understand. I have to maintain for the next few hours, and then I am going to find him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Emma

  “Thank you,” I feel calm. The receptor stops vibrating, and I remove my hand. I look at the desk and wait for him to command me.

  “All better?”

  “Yes,” I say. “What did you find?”

  He looks at me; his eyebrow raised, and his lips scrunched together. He doesn’t answer me. I lower my gaze, but I can still feel him looking at me. It takes all my will to not look up at him.

  “We’re late,” he gets up and walks to the door. “Follow me.”

  “You didn’t answer me,” I say. I know I’m overstepping protocol, but I want to know.

  He stops. I run into him, almost knocking myself over. He steps back and glares at me.

  “Better,” he asks?

  “Yes,” I say.

  “We’re setting up for the heightening,” he says. “Now will you follow me?”

  I obey him. I follow him into the hallway. It didn’t work; it never does. I can still feel everything. I concentrate on my breathing. I feel the panic churn in my gut, but I manage to keep myself calm. I glance at him. He is ahead of me. The fear turns to curiosity. He is here with me, and in a few hours I will be allowed to express my desires, uninhibited and unguarded. Tonight I will find him, and I will have the night to find the answers, and to make him mine.

  He turns around and looks at me, “Why are you smiling?”