The sun had risen enough that the canopyscrapers at the Center were no longer silhouettes. The blurry circle of light, only visible because of the polarizing effect of the Canopy, was paler than the sun in Rena's visions. Was that because delusions were optimistic by their nature? Did her brain want so badly to see a yellow sun, hanging in a blue sky, that it had created the image with more vibrant colors? If so, how did it know what colors to use? Or what the sky would look like without clouds? The sun without the obscurity? Did it just guess?
Or is the explanation simpler than that? Maybe I've seen the sky from somewhere other than—
"Good morning," said a man, jogging along the paved path where Rena was warming up.
"Good morning," she replied, watching him recede into the distance.
The path encircled Commons Three, the public greenspace nearest to Rena's house. It was the appropriate place to exercise. On this morning, it looked as though Officer Dougherty must have reminded every citizen in the area of that fact. From where Rena stood, hundreds of people were visible. Strolling across the grass. Sitting beside the pond. Having conversations beneath the overhanging foliage of trees that had been strategically placed to enhance the aesthetic value of the commons.
Rena shifted her weight and began swinging her other leg, warming up her muscles to prepare for a run.
"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" asked a woman, jogging by at a slow pace.
"Yes, it is," Rena replied.
No sooner had the words left her mouth than she had forgotten how many times she had swung her right leg. She had been counting before the interruption, to make sure she wasn't favoring one side of her body.
Oh well. It feels loose enough.
Rena let a few more citizens go by before stepping on the path and setting out at a moderate pace. The sound of her footsteps on the pavement was rhythmic and quickly lulled her into a reflective mood.
Alright. What was I thinking about before?
She had a vague feeling it had to do with the Barrens. There was something mesmerizing about that place. Marshall and Clarine would never understand her attraction to it. No one would. The only thing other citizens noticed was the ugliness of it. The uselessness of it. But that was what Rena liked. It was the complete opposite of Esh, where everything had been designed for a purpose. Every surface and structure bore the marks of human intervention. But the Barrens were wild. Untouched. And Rena couldn't help but find that appealing.
"Good morning," said the slow-jogging woman as Rena passed her.
"Morning," she replied.
It struck her how the citizens' politeness increased with proximity to the Center, like everything else in Esh. Farther inside, people's lives revolved around how their behavior affected others. Toward the outside, they preyed upon one another. There was no reason to feel sorry for what she'd done to those men in the Barrens. Though Dr. Mallory would have argued the point, Rena thought they'd received what they deserved. If they chose to live on the outskirts of society and survive by taking what they hadn't earned, then it could just as easily be taken away from them as well. It was a dangerous life they chose. And it was arrogant for them to think they were the only dangerous people out there.
Suddenly, Rena could hear Clarine's pleas. What's going to come out of you next time? What happens if you do something that can't be fixed?
If danger followed the same pattern as everything else in Esh, where did Rena fit along that spectrum? She was apparently more dangerous than those thieves, and they had been at the far edge of society. Living along the Outskirts. Prowling the Barrens. Did that mean she deserved to be even farther from the Center than those criminals? There was only one group of people who fit that description.
Outliers. If I'm so dangerous, maybe I belong—
"On your left," came a loud voice from behind.
Rena glanced back over her shoulder to see a tall man running in long strides. He passed Rena as if she were standing still. As her eyes followed him, noting his perfect posture and efficient form, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. On instinct, she dodged to the side, barely missing two citizens who thought it was a good idea to have their conversation while standing in the middle of the path. Avoiding the collision took Rena off the pavement and into the wet grass, where her shoes slid beneath her. She wobbled for a moment before regaining her balance and making her way carefully back to the path.
When she stepped on the pavement again, her shoes were caked with mud.
Great! Just what I needed.
If she'd been out in the Barrens, the mud wouldn't have bothered her.
But I'd be wearing boots, she argued with herself.
Moving to the other side of the path, Rena swiped her feet through a patch of dry grass. Then she took off again, frustrated by the crunching feeling of the mud grinding against the pavement.
"Good morning," said another citizen.
Oh, shut up! Rena thought. And not in the playful way, like with Dal. In this case, she really meant it. She wished everyone would just shut their mouths and exercise. Or at least let her exercise without interrupting her every thought.
In the absence of reason, all you have is emotion.
Now it was Lukas's words coming to mind. She could picture him turned around in his chair, his muscular arms crossed. The smirk on his face said he was enjoying himself. Like he was smarter than Rena ... and he knew it. His lips curved up on one side, pointing at the dimple on his cheek. Above that, an eye barely squinting. A pale blue eye that had seen too much. Wisdom beyond its years. A strong jawline that now looked confident instead of arrogant. And the lips were no longer curved. They were relaxed. Expectant. Waiting to be—
What? No way!
The logical side of Rena, the smart one, stepped in.
What's wrong with you? You hate him!
It was true. She did hate him. Especially when she thought about the way he spoke of the Outliers. Like they weren't even people. Like Reentry shouldn't exist. A waste of resources. How else were Outliers supposed to get back in?
But you don't want them to, right? You only want certain perspectives to be included. The ones that agree with yours.
That was the real problem. Citizens always spoke of how important it was to contribute their perspectives and to rate everything. But the rating system only discouraged them from having a different perspective. It was like the whole society, from Esh's layout to the phrases repeated on the lips of its citizens, was proclaiming one single message.
Please, please vote ... and vote exactly like everyone else!
What would Mr. Yan have said to that? How would his social studies class have reacted if Rena had been able to think on her feet and put those thoughts into such blunt words? What would Lukas have said?
Let's find out on Monday.
She wasn't planning on backing down from this fight. Lukas was wrong. And Rena was going to prove it.
On the path ahead, the tall man with perfect posture had come into view around a bend. Rena must have caught up with him. She realized how fast her legs were moving. And now that she was paying attention, her heart rate was much higher than it needed to be. She slowed to a manageable pace and concentrated on her breathing to get her heart to slow.
"On your right!" came another voice from behind.
As Rena veered left, she glanced at the grass on the side of the path, in case she might need to jump there. It was muddy. She couldn't help but laugh, which only ruined her breathing. And that made her laugh even more. Giving in to inevitability, she made her way to the dry side of the path and stepped off into the grass. With her hands on her hips, she kept moving at a walk, sucking in deep breaths of air. By the time her heart rate had returned to normal, the humor of the situation had passed.
"Good morning," said a women walking in the other direction.
Rena just smiled at her.
What would these people do if I started climbing that tree?
She imagined herself doing here what she was only free to do among the abandoned buildings of the Outskirts. Throwing rocks. Climbing fences. Running through rusted machinery. Jumping over obstacles.
I suppose I could jump over the people lying on the grass. Push some of them into the pond. See how fast I could weave through the ones on the path. Maybe I could get Mr. Perfect Posture to slide through mud.
It was a funny thought. But only for a few seconds. Then Rena tried to take a deep breath and exhale the frustration building up.
Too many people. Can't breathe in here.
Her eyes went up to the Canopy with its translucent panels. The metal framework was higher here than above her house. The triangles formed a geometric pattern that drew her eye to the west, where a massive support column rose up from the center of the city. Everything pointed inward. Always to the Center.
When Rena's gaze came down again, she found it shifting from one person to another. Looking for anything out of the ordinary. Was that man looking in her direction? Was that woman staring at her? How long had that couple been lying by the pond?
Someone's watching me.
Rena kept looking around but couldn't pinpoint the source of the feeling. After a moment, she gave up. A delusion is what Dr. Mallory would have called it. And maybe she would have been right. Maybe everyone was right.
It seemed like Rena was the only one asking questions. The only one who noticed the inherent contradiction of the rating system. Perhaps she was crazy and everyone else was sane. As she looked around the commons, it certainly seemed that way. The rest of the citizens appeared to be enjoying each other's company. Though her instincts told her otherwise, Rena could admit the possibility that she was wrong. Maybe she just needed to keep applying herself, like Clarine said. That was what she had done after her adoption, to make her new parents happy. And it was what she had been doing less of, lately. Perhaps Marshall and Clarine actually knew what was best for her, and Rena needed to trust them.
Stop asking questions, she thought. Apply yourself. Be a good girl and see what happens. It can't hurt.
In fact, she knew it would do the opposite. If she acted as Dr. Mallory and everyone else expected, her behavior would benefit everyone around her. And wasn't that the purpose of the system anyway? For people to help each other?
Rena turned and began walking home. She was ready to commit to this different approach. If she started voting regularly again and got her rating up, she might be able to help Marshall and Clarine instead of hurting them. With her friend association to Dal, her efforts would also impact his rating. And he needed all the help he could get. Instead of trusting her instincts, perhaps she needed to put her trust in the people who loved her.
o o o
The crosshairs followed Rena as she turned to leave the commons, but they weren't positioned for a shot. They were centered on the ground at her feet in case of an unintentional discharge, although that was impossible. There was no round in the chamber, the safety was engaged, and Barrett's finger would never touch the trigger unless he intended to shoot, which he didn't. He was only using his rifle's scope to surveil the young woman who'd defended herself and her friends against muggers a few days ago.
After that incident, Barrett and his team had returned to headquarters to report their findings. Commander Ryce was impressed with Rena's instincts, but he was also the sort of man who looked beyond the obvious. That vigilance was what had kept him alive for this long. He wondered if Rena had been trained by OCON and was being used to attract Outlier attention. Could this be a new strategy to infiltrate the Outliers by getting an operative inside?
More surveillance was needed. And that's why Barrett watched Rena from an office in a two-story building across the street from the commons. He and his team had come up through a sewer pipe into the building's mechanical room. The business didn't open until 10:00 a.m., which meant that employees wouldn't arrive until shortly beforehand. That vacancy allowed Barrett's team members to spread out and establish sentry positions at each of the building's access points.
While they kept watch for anyone approaching the building, Barrett panned his scope across the commons, over the pond at its center, to an alley across the street from Rena's location. His crosshairs came to rest on a young man in the shadows. He was dressed in lightweight exercise clothing, like so many others in the area. But he hadn't come to exercise. He was also surveilling Rena.
This was the first time Barrett had seen one of OCON's young operatives, though he'd heard plenty about them. They were typically orphans who'd unknowingly participated in aptitude testing during their stay at an adoption agency. All their conversations and actions were monitored for specific criteria. If OCON liked what they saw, the child was recruited into a life unlike any other they would experience as a normal citizen.
And if this young man was any indication, OCON's training program was excellent. He was just close enough to observe Rena's movements and the citizens she came into contact with. But at that distance, dressed as he was, with the shadows to conceal him, he was invisible to Rena. And that was the primary goal of any operative—to be invisible.
If Barrett had been a citizen, he would have been fooled. But he was neither. He knew what to look for. He could spot an operative by what they paid attention to. They were alert to their surroundings, which was different from the casual distractedness of your typical citizen. That's how Barrett also knew there were a handful of other operatives in the commons, playing their parts as normal citizens. These others weren't watching Rena closely, which meant they were only present as support for the young operative in case something went wrong.
Barrett picked out a few of them with his scope. A middle-aged man sitting under a tree by the pond. An older woman walking along the path. OCON's surveillance of Rena seemed legitimate, but it could also be staged. To complete the illusion that she wasn't one of them.
Who are you? Barrett wondered, as he swung the crosshairs near Rena's feet once again.
Perhaps OCON placed so many operatives in the area to find confirmation that the Outliers were taking the bait. It was impossible to know for sure, but Barrett and his team would never give them any such confirmation. Recon members were even better than operatives at hiding.
"We have a woman approaching along the sidewalk at the front of the building," said a team member through the communication device in Barrett's ear.
It was too early for an employee, but there was no reason to linger. Barrett had seen what he came for. "Let's move out," he replied, standing up and lifting his rifle from the desk.
"She's stopping at the front doors!"
Barrett used his shirt sleeve to wipe down the surface of the desk. "Quick and quiet. No traces," he told them.
Fortunately, he and his team had removed their outerwear before exiting the mechanical room, per standard procedure, to reduce their chances of leaving evidence. When the desk was clean, he left the room and pulled the door shut as he'd found it.
"She's in the lobby," came another warning. "It must be the owner."
But Barrett was already down the hall and entering the stairwell that would take him back to the mechanical room and the safety of the sewers.