Chapter 11
Bella and I grab our trays from the dining sector as we walk to our usual table in the back corner of the room, joining Kylie and Lauren.
Lunch is different today, some type of fish, I think.
It’s pink and smells fishy, at least. Beside the fish is rice, some cut-up celery and carrot, and a small container of some sort of thick white sauce that I mix in immediately.
The dining sector is silent, none of us risk talking, not when tensions are so high today.
I’m sure Madam will be looking to impose her favourite rule: Girls of The Academy are seen and not heard.
Her whiny voice plays in my head. I would love for her to hear the sound of my bullet going through her head, but it never does.
I’m not completely insane. I know doing that would mean certain death for me, and they will send someone else, possibly worse, to the other girls.
I may be selfish, but I would never put their safety at risk.
The food, much like all the others, is bland and surprisingly dry. The rice is undercooked and still hard, while the fish is overcooked and dry. I’m pretty sure this is another punishment they give us, purposefully giving us barely edible food so we’re always desperate for more.
“Madam has requested you, PX-3, as well as you, PX-57.” A guard appears at the table out of nowhere making me jump. Jesus, these meds have knocked my sensors off.
Bella and I stare at each other, confused, before quickly standing up, leaving Lauren and Kylie behind as my mind begins to race with all the possible reasons why they requested both of us.
Bella is not my assigned partner, and they don’t change your partner unless they die.
And Lauren is very much alive, sat eating the subpar food in the dining sector.
“What do you think it is?” Bella whispers. I shake my head in response.
Girls of The Academy are seen and not heard.
Standing in the Madam’s office is Madam, Major, Commander, Overseer, and someone I have never met before.
An older man. I suspect he will be at least late forties, maybe early fifties.
He has dark hair, a small beard shaved closely to his face, but still just enough hair to hide his jaw.
He stands tall, his bigger build taking up what little space is left in the small room.
Bella and I are guided to sit down in front of the crowded room. Neither of us argues as we move to the chairs quietly, wondering what the hell is happening.
“Thank you for coming,” the new man says, walking to the front of the desk and keeping his eyes on me, making me very uncomfortable.
“You are here as we are trying something new; we are changing your assigned partners, temporarily. As you know, PX-57 does not have an assigned partner, although she has been paired with PX-34 often.” Kylie.
“We would like you two to complete this mission together, being two of our best.”
“And what of our other assigned partners?” I ask. Worry seeps through me, but I keep my face cold. Stay calm, Darlia. Stay calm so you don’t get yourself killed.
“They will stay behind. Consider your mission an experiment. If all goes well, we will pair you together more often.” Meaning they want to get rid of Lauren and Kylie, the weaker links.
“Thank you for the opportunity, sir.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bella’s hands grasp at the arms of the chair, her knuckles turning white with the barely restrained anger flowing through her, the same worry I am dreading.
“Right, well, for PX-3, this will be a refresher, but PX-57 will need a briefing that I’m sure you can provide.
You will be going after Target 106. This time again, the mission is only to observe, but in a different environment.
We have received communication that he will be attending another ball with someone we believe to be his partner.
You will find new outfits waiting for you in your bunk rooms. We cannot risk you being seen in the same outfit twice; the other guests may become suspicious. ”
New outfits, repeat target, new partner. I don’t like it.
“I would be happy to brief Bel—PX-57, sir.”
Instead, the man smiles. A warm smile that looks like he actually means to smile, not to be polite. “Perfect, well then, we expect you to be ready to move in one hour. Commander will be waiting for you. I understand that is your normal procedure?”
I nod. “Yes, sir. We will return in one hour.”
“Oh, and PX-3? Don’t ever let me find out you talked to the target again.”
“Of course, sir.”
As soon as we return back to the assigned bunk rooms, I sit down on the bed that has been assigned to me for the last fifteen years.
For fifteen years, I have sat here, slept here, lived here.
All under the promise that when you turn twenty-one, The Academy would age you out and let you see the real world.
Now, it feels like everything is crumbling, and I don’t know what to believe. Cayden knows too much about The Academy. They’re changing assigned partners, sending new pairs on missions, and giving new clothes. Everything is falling apart, and I can only hope that we all make it out alive.
But, hope breaks you more than love.
It shapes you to be someone you don’t want to be, shaped me into someone I don’t think I ever wanted to be. Of course, I will never know since I never got asked before they started training me for The Academy.
“So, what’s the plan, Darlia?”
“I have to talk to him…to Cayden.” I take off my standard training uniform, leaving only my undergarments as I put on the new dress.
“I have to get answers I won’t get here, but you can’t tell a soul.” Unlike Lauren.
“You know I'm always on your side,” Bella says quickly.
“I never doubted it.” I smile and Bella walks off to get dressed before we walk to the other side of the basement to the mission sector.
The new outfit is nothing like the usual formal mission attire.
Instead of The Academy issued black dress clinging to my body, it is puffy and red.
The skirt flows around me with thick patterns pressed into the fabric, rather than clinging to my body.
My usual gun and knife are attached to both thighs, this time much more comfortably.
My hair is up in the same teased ponytail that is standard.
My makeup is done, but this time my tattoo is covered. I hate it.
I want to wear these dresses for a reason, it feels wasteful to wear them only to kill someone. Only we’re not killing anyone, we’re observing. Which is even more confusing considering I’m not a babysitter but a trained assassin.
Bella is waiting for me outside my bunk room dressed in a similar dress, only instead of hers being crimson red like mine, it’s black, like they always are.
I don’t make it obvious, but I can’t help the unease that creeps into me at the fact my dress is a different colour.
Like they want me to stand out, to be noticed.
We walk out and back towards the Madam’s office where the Commander is waiting, Wolvrin. He stands stoic, but I don’t miss the subtle second glance at my dress, telling me he didn’t know about this, either. Well shit, that’s not great.
“Let’s go.” His voice is cold, like it has to be, as he leads us out the double doors, allowing us brief moments of freedom until the elevator brings us back up to land. The sky is dark this time, small stars flickering in the sky.
Bella and I open the doors to the SUV, stepping inside and sitting down before Wolvrin steps in, sitting in front of us. “Do you understand your mission?” he asks, to which Bella and I nod.
“Observe the target, but do not engage.”
“Be alert,” he warns me, and I nod.
The remaining drive is quiet, the lights of the upper end of the city filling the windows while the lesser Zones are dark for mandatory curfew, leaving only a few mandatory lights on, and the lights on the highway leading to Zone Three and the Elites.
We stop outside of another building, one Bella has told me stories of: a museum.
“You will be expected back at 2:00 a.m. And Darlia? Be careful.” I nod, offering what I can muster of a smile as a silent thank you before stepping out, Bella following behind me.
The concrete steps leading up to the building are lined in a red carpet, our heels muffled as we walk up, smiling at the guard at the door before walking in.
Inside is unlike everything I have ever seen before. The ceilings are high, lined with windows to the outside and the moon shining down on the large skeleton in front of us; a dinosaur, according to the information card in front of it. I try to hide my shock, but I can’t. It’s beautiful.
Behind the skeleton is a row of different pieces of history, women in clothes made of flax and feathers, men in clothes made of the same material. The more I walk, the more history seems to progress.
“Darlia, please stop gawking," Bella whispers in my ear, handing me a glass of champagne that I take and sip. I force myself to breathe, to blend in, despite the fact I want to spend the entire night finding out every detail about every display and forget all about the target.
I step out into an open hall where the main crowd has gathered and find Cayden sat down with a new person whom I’m assuming is his accomplice. Giving a signal to Bella, I walk to the back of the hall, leaning against the wall, sipping on the drink in my hand and watching as the event begins.
It’s an auction of rare items you can hardly find in the new world; luxuries like chocolate bars made from real cocoa, a set of professional paints and paintbrushes that apparently are special considering the gasps from the crowd.
But what grabs my attention is the book placed on the stage.
The book looks old and worn, but it is a book, no less.