Regulators, p.19
Regulators, page 19
They reinforced them. Surgically.
Invasiveness.
The towel dropped and I moved to pick it up, but he stopped me by taking a step closer.
“What are you thinking?” he asked me quietly.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, putting both my hands behind my back and putting all of it to the wall. I thought about what he’d said yesterday, about sitting on hands if we were tempted to cover our eyes. Maybe it was applicable in more than just the one way. “What are you thinking?”
His right hand reached out, just barely touching my face and going back down to his side. “That you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I swallowed something—I didn’t know what—and pressed my back as far as it would go against the wall, listening to my ragged breathing and my heart beating erratically.
“What are you thinking now?” he asked curiously.
“That you’re lying.”
“Why?”
I was staring away from him in the only way that I could—because he was taking up every bit of the space in front of me—with my chin nearly resting on my right shoulder. “Because how could you feel that way?”
“You’re not understanding what I’m asking.” His left hand pulled my face forward gently, and his right hand went over my chest, covering my heart. He was leaning down to my level when he asked it again. “Why?”
Why did my heart beat like it did around him? Was that what he was asking me?
He removed his hand and took two steps back. “I know why you didn’t understand,” he said uncomfortably. “I asked you the wrong question earlier, and now. I didn’t realize until you just asked what you did. It’s not why. It’s how.”
How could my heart beat like that because of him? That was the question.
His smile at me was very stiff before he turned and began walking away.
My breathing was still horrendous when I went after him and said, “You’re still dripping.” I turned and grabbed the towel from the floor because he’d stopped.
He was in the doorway of the bathroom by the time I’d retrieved it.
“Jaycee,” he said after he’d taken it from me and had started drying himself off. “Don’t make me climb up your balcony like that again.” He glanced at me.
I nodded.
Seb had removed all our coms apart from Paige’s. She wanted to stay inside because she needed to do research on something. Seb was swimming again while Brent, Garret, and I studied the file in the shade with our sunglasses on.
All the information seemed so useless to me. There were military documents, for promotions and any and all things. There were personal things—a few email correspondences that didn’t seem even remotely important. Details of what Bastille and Cole both did in their free time. Hardly any of it seemed important or useful, and I honestly didn’t care.
It would serve them right if the secret of us leaked. We shouldn’t have been a secret. We shouldn’t have been made the way we were in the first place. We weren’t numbers on a file. Letters and numbers engraved into metal. We were people—living, breathing people. We were living, breathing people that they prevented from really living. Would it have been so bad, being how we were, if they hadn’t kept us locked up?
ENJOY IT WHILE YOU CAN, I saw again during blinks.
What would happen if we failed our mission, to us specifically, and to Regs as a whole?
I let my mind wander about that, periodically picking up information from the file and stealing glances at Seb. Both the boys moved away from me not very long into it. I supposed my heartbeat distracted them, or maybe me looking at Seb just made them uncomfortable. I didn’t care.
I met gazes with Seb a few times. He almost smiled at me once. Almost, I was sure, but I had no idea why. Maybe he thought I was stupid for looking at him and he was amused by it. Or maybe . . .
Maybe he was in some way pleased that I was looking at him. I didn’t know why he would be when considering all the trouble of it. I supposed it was possible because I was in some way pleased when I caught him looking at me regardless of not knowing if he was simply doing it because he felt me looking at him.
I didn’t want to go back.
Why couldn’t they just let us live?
A knocking on glass brought me out of my thoughts about it sometime later. I’d been thinking about living rather than anything to do with the file. It seemed so much more important.
Seb pulled himself out of the pool and walked over to the door, opening it. “Have you finished with your research?”
“Yes,” Paige replied. “Can Jaycee and I get out of physical training today?”
“For what reason?”
“Because . . . we have to learn how to walk in heels.”
It was a very long time that he spent staring at her and I spent staring at him before he said, “One hour. You at least have to do one hour. But then, yes, you can . . . figure that out.”
My brow furrowed. “What are heels?” I’d never heard the word said in that context before.
“If you think flip flops are bad . . .” I heard Paige say. “Well . . . I have a feeling we’re going to have our work cut out for us.”
“Yeah.” Seb nodded. “You’re probably right about that.” He whistled, which made the two boys look up. “Time for PT.”
All of us stood from our chairs, and I suspected we all grumbled under our breath about it. It was so much harder to find the motivation to do things after realizing . . . you might not necessarily have to do them. I supposed we still did have to though, at least where PT was concerned, because Seb said so and Seb was in charge.
I stopped grumbling about it after reminding myself we couldn’t make it out here without him. Even with Paige, we’d be completely useless. Disregarding the fact that we never could’ve made it out of the place or driven ourselves here if we had . . . we would probably starve to death without him. Or at least stayed at the beach all day. I realized . . .
Not everyone was grumbling. I’d just assumed due to how I was feeling, Paige obviously not wanting to do PT either, Brent and Garret moving at the pace they were. I looked at their faces looking at Seb, seeing . . . Reluctance? Wariness?
Seb nodded into the house and said, “Come on, PT stud. Let’s see what you can do.”
The expressions that followed were equally difficult, but I knew those.
The faces of people for the first time thinking they might be in some way satisfactory, that they might be capable of it, but hearing a lifetime of people telling them they weren’t. The thought of disappointing someone was worse than knowing from the get-go that you were never going to do otherwise.
Chapter 15
Response
The house had its own exercise area, though it wasn’t quite what I was accustomed to past the purpose of it. Then again, I was also accustomed to countless bodies surrounding me during physical training, having a set regimen, and having people ensure we all did as we were supposed to. That typically only took them watching, which they always were and did, but I was sure we’d all seen the varying amounts of trouble we could get into. At least once. Once was usually enough.
It was amazing how much I found myself wanting to slack off with physical training, if I could get away with it. Not having the threat and concern of trouble looming over my head was something like the door to my room not being able to keep me in. Something like that. But trouble still existed no matter where I was or wasn’t regardless of any changes. It made me think about something Kelsey had told me once about carrots and stubborn donkeys, which were apparently like horses but weren’t.
You can think of normal people like donkeys and us like horses. A superior version.
I thought that was a pretty shitty way to think. It had taken me a while to get over that—to remind myself of how her brain worked and didn’t, to let myself understand that she hadn’t meant for it to sound the way it had. It had taken longer for me to talk to her about it. It hadn’t taken long at all after that for me to be called into the office.
Horses can serve so many purposes. You can find them most anywhere. There was a point in time where they were a means to survival. We’re long past that. At this point, they’re had for whatever reasons and come at varying prices. Some of those prices would make your little head spin if you had a better concept of currency. There’s something for only the elite few. These horses are made for a singular purpose. Racing. It’s all about who runs the fastest. Do you know what happens when the horse can’t run anymore?
No, Sir.
That prized horse? That investment of so much time, and effort, and money? It’s disposed of. If it cannot serve its purpose . . . Well, that’s the only thing worth doing. Pause. Out in the world, some people might say that modesty is an admirable quality. Do you know what happens to modest people in the real world?
I don’t know what modesty is, Sir.
There are donkeys in the world, and there are horses. Then there are the people who own them. Which are you? Please, answer the question. Because what I heard earlier was that you can’t run. What are you, JCE-286?
A racing horse, Sir.
One more thing before you go? Calling yourself a donkey doesn’t make it true. Now go tell KSY-262 what you are and apologize for confusing her in your confusion.
Yes, Sir.
JCE-286? Watch those legs. A racehorse is useless without those. Are you hearing me?
Yes, Sir.
Carrots and donkeys. There was always a carrot. I enjoyed them in the literal sense. Not in the other.
I was only running on a treadmill for about five minutes when my wrist buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts about carrots.
INSUFFICIENT ACTIVE HEART RATE
“Shut up and leave me alone,” I said to the metal around my wrist. “I know what I’m doing.” I’d been doing it my entire life. I knew how to run.
I shook my head and increased the speed to eight, knowing it would pacify them despite the fact that I was starting the way I always did. Momentarily, at the very least. I just wanted my wrist to stop buzzing me. It had done as much in the last day and some spare hours as it had in the last year, not including mornings when I needed help waking up on time. If I also wasn’t including being buzzed for purposes related to normal things—exams, medicine, haircuts, etcetera—it had actually buzzed more since leaving than it had in the last several years. And it had never said such horrible things.
“Bastards,” Paige muttered under her breath from the treadmill next to me. Her speed also increased shortly after. Clearly she was wanting to slack off as well. I wanted to, but I would’ve gotten to it as I always did. Still, I really didn’t understand why we couldn’t have just a bit of time not doing this while we were away. Missing a day of physical training wouldn’t kill us, I didn’t believe. Just a day.
I kept on with it, because there was always a carrot.
My legs.
While I ran, I watched Seb and the two boys across the space. Seb had one of the exercise machines in his hands, off the floor where it belonged and previously had been. I could see the boys talking to him, but it would’ve been nearly impossible to hear them over the sound of two treadmills running so close to me. Shortly after, Seb held the machine in his grasp above his head and removed one of his hands from it.
“That’s . . .” Paige said from beside me. She said nothing else.
“Something,” I said for her. I didn’t know that there was a word for it. If she didn’t know the word, there probably wasn’t one.
She glanced at me and nodded. Our Gen physical instructors never showed us their strength. Their speed and the like was shown occasionally and generally accidentally, yes, but never their strength. They never needed to.
I watched Seb put the machine back where it had come from, I assumed, and then hold his hands in the air. I could hear him clearly enough when he asked, “What do you want me to do?” I could clearly hear the frustration or impatience in his voice as well.
Garret picked a weight bar up from somewhere behind him and extended it in the air between he and Seb. With Seb’s side turned to me, I could easily see what happened when he took it. He did presumably what Garret had requested.
He bent it at the middle, bent it at the middle again, over and over until it was very small in comparison to what it had been. He handed the twisted metal back to Garret, who took it with a smile on his face.
Brent pointed a finger at a rack of weights. Seb was shaking his head when he stepped over and picked up the entire rack. It hadn’t looked like it had taken too much effort for him to manage it. Both of the boys laughed with remarkably sized smiles on their faces. Their mouths hung open quite a ways.
“That’s like . . .” I barely heard Paige say beside me over the sound of our machines running. “That’s over a thousand pounds. Easily.”
I’d figured it had been, but I hadn’t checked out the weights yet. They weren’t my favorite things. I wasn’t particularly fond of exercise in general. I’d sometimes enjoyed it. Before I’d started imagining carrots in front of my face.
“No more,” I heard Seb tell the two of them. “I’m sure that’s enough.”
“Jaycee . . .”
Paige paused for so long that I looked over at her, finding her staring—also openmouthed—at Seb.
She looked over at me, but it seemed to take a massive amount of effort to accomplish as much. “I think . . . I think he’s going to break you. Whenever he gets his hands on you.” She looked back at Seb, across the room. “You should probably keep that in mind.”
My heart sped up, for some reason.
I didn’t know if Seb had heard what she’d said, or possibly my body’s reaction to it, but he was stopped almost halfway between us and the boys, frowning at me.
My wrist buzzed, and I saw something on there that—for a split second—made my body stop working entirely. I almost tripped, with the treadmill still running. At the last second possible before certain disaster, I jumped both my feet onto the edges while I stared down at my com.
“What is it?” Paige asked me.
I extended my wrist to her to show her the second thing that had appeared after another buzz. “Sufficient active heart rate.” I somehow managed to give her a stiff smile. “I’m going to . . . do something else.”
I shut off the treadmill and went as far away from everyone as I possibly could, to a machine in the far corner of the room. I didn’t care what it was past knowing that my brain could make my body use it. It was all muscle memory, even setting up the machine for my specific use.
As I was doing leg presses on the machine—that was what it was—with my heart still racing, I closed my eyes and saw the green letters from before the message about my heart rate.
KEEP IT IN MIND
Was I losing my mind? Could that happen? Were all the new things doing something detrimental to my head and the way it worked?
My wrist buzzed again. I stopped moving, apart from bringing my wrist into my lap.
YOU ARE GOVERNMENT PROPERTY, JCE-286
That blinked twice before disappearing. It buzzed again.
DO NOT LET THE GEN DAMAGE YOU
I didn’t care that the hour wasn’t up yet or that I’d hardly gotten warmed up.
I ran from the room, through the house, up the stairs, and then miscounted the doors due to coming from the opposite direction from what I had every other time. I went to the other stairway and counted four doors down on the right on the third floor. Once inside, I locked it behind me, pressing my back against it.
I held my wrist close to my mouth and said, “Please stop.” Begging. I was begging. “Please.”
By the time Paige knocked on my door sometime later . . . I believed I finally understood what really crying actually was.
“Hey,” Paige said quietly, warily when I opened the door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” I told her. She really hadn’t.
“So it was the com.” She frowned. “What did it say?”
“I don’t know that I can tell you.” I didn’t know if I could, or that I wanted to. Part of me wanted to, just to get it out. But part of me never wanted to say any of it aloud.
My wrist buzzed.
IT WOULD BE NORMAL
“Stop!” I shouted at it.
“They’ve been doing it to me too,” Paige said quietly. “On and off since we got back from the beach. I don’t know if they think it’s helping, or if they’re just extremely twisted in their heads.”
“This isn’t—” I put a hand over my face. “We’re alive, Paige. We’re not—” I didn’t know what.
“Toys,” she said.
I didn’t know what that was.
“What did they say?”
I removed my hand from my face and stared at a wall. “Keep it in mind. You are government property, JCE-286. Do not let the Gen damage you.”
Seconds passed in silence, where the only sound in the room was two hearts beating and two different patterns of breathing. Paige’s sped with every one she took until finally . . . she spoke.
“We are people.” Her wrist was up near her mouth. “I know you can’t see as much behind your screens of statistics, but we are people.” Her voice was so desperate sounding when she asked, “Can’t you understand that?”
I heard her wrist buzz and she began shaking her head frantically before showing it to me.
FACTS, it read.
“That we are people is a fact, you fucking heartless bastards!” She shouted the statement to her wrist.
“We’re not people, Paige.” I shook my head, wiping at wetness on my face and sniffling in hard. “We’re racehorses.” I shrugged. “That’s all we are to them.”
I watched tears rolling down her face and her bottom jaw wobbling until Seb appeared from around the edge of the door.
“Don’t let it get to you,” Seb said from behind her. “I’m telling myself that once we figure more of this out . . . they’ll stop.”
