The Sowing

I’ve sometimes wondered what would happen if the top-secret location of Haven was leaked and the Incentives were released. Would the Imposers really want to go back to their old lives? Could they?

And would their loyalties shift away from the Establishment, as a result?

I quickly avert my eyes from my fellow trainees. I can’t afford to humanize them—at least not Leander and Rodrigo. When it comes down to it, they’re the enemy and will be crushed along with Cassius and the rest of the Establishment if I have my way.

The only other person not teleconferencing with a family member is Dahlia, who’s busying herself with an extra set of morning calisthenics instead. No surprise, considering her dad perished as an Incentive during her trials and her mom died as a result of being my Incentive during my own ordeal. I wonder what keeps Dahlia in check? As I slip into the last booth, I can feel her eyes on me, burning through my uniform and into my skin.

In seconds, I’ve activated the privacy shield, submitted to the biometric scans, and placed my own call.

“Private Lucian Spark. Identity confirmed. Now connecting…” the synthesized computer voice announces.

The three-dimensional image begins to materialize in a swirling storm of crackling static. For a second I let myself hope that this’ll be the moment I finally get to see and talk to Cole again.

But it’s not my brother. The image has formed, once again, into the familiar face of Percy Favell, the beak-nosed rep from the Child Assimilation Services. He proceeds to update me on Cole’s physical and mental well-being.

Although it’s always reassuring to hear that my brother’s doing okay, it’s just empty words without being able to see for myself. When Favell pauses from his droning to finally take in some more air, I seize the opportunity to interrupt.

“When can I see my brother? He was supposed to arrive at Haven this week.”

Favell looks up from the tablet screen he’s been reading and regards me with his beady little eyes. “I’m afraid your brother’s transfer to Haven has been delayed.”

“What are you talking about?”

Favell grins. “Cole’s been selected to take part in a very special program.”

Before I can react, the image disappears, the lights come on, and the door to the com room whooshes open. A torrent of stark artificial light cascades through the room and I squint against it.

Then the light is eclipsed by a familiar hulking shape. “Officer on the floor! ATTENTION !” he barks, barreling through the doorway followed by his squatter twin. They station themselves on either side of the entrance like two concrete columns propping up the structure.

Great. My old friends Styles and Renquist. They must have arrived with the convoy.

I spring from my booth to join Leander, Rodrigo, Arrah, and Dahlia, planting myself beside them at attention like a rigid stalk.

Styles’s eyes crawl across the room and pounce on me. “Long time no see, Spark,” he mutters.

Renquist’s tongue flits across his lips. He winks at his companion. “Looks like someone’s ripened into manhood.”

“Assholes,” Arrah whispers through clenched teeth.

“Big time,” I whisper back.

“Quiet!” Styles snaps.

Styles and Renquist have got to be two of the most corrupt and sadistic Imposers I know, and that’s saying a lot. If they’ve been sent all the way from the Parish to this outpost at the ass-end of the Fringelands, it’s a good bet that Cassius has something to do with this—and that it involves me somehow.

If Cassius walks through this door, it’ll really be a test of willpower not to pounce and tear his throat out.

The shadow that falls across my fellow trainees and me doesn’t belong to Cassius Thorn, but rather to another of the Establishment’s decadent agents, one I’ll never forget. She’s tall, with amphibious slits for eyes and small, sharp teeth like rough gems mined from the quarries.

My old drill instructor, Sergeant Slade.

Her smile is a crooked slash across the pale stone of her face. “At ease, Flame Squad.”

In spite of the audible release of breath around me, my muscles remain tense, on alert, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. The last time I actually saw Slade was during the Recruit graduation ceremony at Infiernos, right before the Trials started. But I’ll never forget the sound of her sadistic voice guiding us through the hell of each trial. I have no intention of giving her the upper hand again if I can help it.

She paces the floor, taking us all in. “I regret that we had to cut your family time short this month, but I’m sure you’re all wondering why a detail has been sent from the Parish to such a remote station as this.” Her eyes impale each of us in turn, like darts. She pauses, in between Leander and Dahlia. “Some of you have shown a certain degree of proficiency in your posts and have proven that you actually might have what it takes to serve among your fellow officers.” She cuffs Dahlia’s cheek with an audible slap and beams at her.

“Thank you, Sir.” Dahlia nods, her face turning a slight shade of red.