Scholar way.
Could he live that way? Could he spend the rest of his life knowing there was someone out there who could make him feel the way Casey made Nate feel? That he had given it up?
Torn between his whole life, his parents, what they wanted from him, and the life he wanted for himself, Theo froze. He stared at the card in his hand, such a small simple object that would dictate the rest of his life.
Such a little thing to have so much power over him.
He knew what he wanted, when it was pressed upon him to choose. Theo made his choice.
“Let’s go, Kaufman,” the man called from behind the curtain.
Theo slammed his card into the slot, scanned his thumbprint, and walked on toward the Selection ceremony.
MABLE
SUBTERRANEAN CHICAGO, NORTH AMERICA
AUGUST 7, 2232
“It’s a diode, platinum-alloy with a neon tube,” Mitt droned on as if she cared. All she needed was the spec drawing and location. Everything else was noise.
“It’s the neon we need. I can fabricate the rest from recycled bits, but I can’t manufacture neon.” He sounded guilty about it.
Mitt handed over the image of a red plastic cap with two wires emitted from either side. “In here,” he pointed to the red cap. “Neon’s pretty rare these days. One little bit will last us five or six centuries.”
The elderly man was thin enough to get knocked over with a sneeze. His worn clothes hung loose on his bony frame. Mable couldn’t help but wonder how long the Root would have service of its greatest mind.
At the bottom of the page, Mable caught sight of where she would find the diode: the Aon Center.
Mable smiled despite how Mitt continued to describe the intricacies of the tiny item. It was her fourth to be taken from the ruined remnants of the once thriving offices.
But all skyscrapers had been abandoned and the upper floors had been cut in favor of the dome that protected the city from the haze. At least, according to Mitt.
An in and out job for an item no larger than her fingertip. Mable couldn’t ask for better, a dream job.
Mere seconds after she thanked Mitt, she’d already made up her mind and started on her way back to her quarters.
It was little more than the carved-out remnants of a cave, but the two teens had softened it up as best they could. They’d hung colored fabrics over the stone walls, interesting items on each ledge large enough to fit one. Hadley insisted on hanging up several of Mable’s drawings, though she never would have done it herself. That was one of the perks of living with Hadley.
It was the best home Mable had ever known.
She was fully prepared to fight to keep it.
When Mable arrived in the cave, she found Hadley with a basket of half-folded laundry on the bed. “There you are.”
“What?” Mable offloaded her bag onto her cushioned cot piled high with comfy blankets.
“I saw Rowen in the market. At least an hour ago. He looked pissed. Did you finally beat him?” Hadley ditched her laundry and crawled over on all fours to sit on the floor beside Mable’s cot.
“Ha, I wish,” she replied and untied her boot laces.
Hadley’s features twisted in confusion. “Then what?”
“He asked me to leave with him.”
“Oh my god!” Hadley’s hands leapt to cover her mouth. “You are not serious!” Then she realized. “Oh my god, Mable! You said no?! What the hell is wrong with you? You better get some of that before someone else does!”
Mable couldn’t help but laugh. Despite her personal tragedies, Hadley was a heap of fun. Mable loved having her around. “What? No. It’s not like that and you know it.”
“Yeah, but it could be.” It wasn’t Hadley’s first attempt to thrust her at Rowen, the ‘tall-dark-and-handsome dreamboat’.
But it couldn’t be like that with Rowen, or any man. Mable gave up that sort of thing a long time ago. She flopped down onto her bed beside her bag, her arms sprawled across the sheets.
“Ugh, you’re so difficult! Why
Could he live that way? Could he spend the rest of his life knowing there was someone out there who could make him feel the way Casey made Nate feel? That he had given it up?
Torn between his whole life, his parents, what they wanted from him, and the life he wanted for himself, Theo froze. He stared at the card in his hand, such a small simple object that would dictate the rest of his life.
Such a little thing to have so much power over him.
He knew what he wanted, when it was pressed upon him to choose. Theo made his choice.
“Let’s go, Kaufman,” the man called from behind the curtain.
Theo slammed his card into the slot, scanned his thumbprint, and walked on toward the Selection ceremony.
MABLE
SUBTERRANEAN CHICAGO, NORTH AMERICA
AUGUST 7, 2232
“It’s a diode, platinum-alloy with a neon tube,” Mitt droned on as if she cared. All she needed was the spec drawing and location. Everything else was noise.
“It’s the neon we need. I can fabricate the rest from recycled bits, but I can’t manufacture neon.” He sounded guilty about it.
Mitt handed over the image of a red plastic cap with two wires emitted from either side. “In here,” he pointed to the red cap. “Neon’s pretty rare these days. One little bit will last us five or six centuries.”
The elderly man was thin enough to get knocked over with a sneeze. His worn clothes hung loose on his bony frame. Mable couldn’t help but wonder how long the Root would have service of its greatest mind.
At the bottom of the page, Mable caught sight of where she would find the diode: the Aon Center.
Mable smiled despite how Mitt continued to describe the intricacies of the tiny item. It was her fourth to be taken from the ruined remnants of the once thriving offices.
But all skyscrapers had been abandoned and the upper floors had been cut in favor of the dome that protected the city from the haze. At least, according to Mitt.
An in and out job for an item no larger than her fingertip. Mable couldn’t ask for better, a dream job.
Mere seconds after she thanked Mitt, she’d already made up her mind and started on her way back to her quarters.
It was little more than the carved-out remnants of a cave, but the two teens had softened it up as best they could. They’d hung colored fabrics over the stone walls, interesting items on each ledge large enough to fit one. Hadley insisted on hanging up several of Mable’s drawings, though she never would have done it herself. That was one of the perks of living with Hadley.
It was the best home Mable had ever known.
She was fully prepared to fight to keep it.
When Mable arrived in the cave, she found Hadley with a basket of half-folded laundry on the bed. “There you are.”
“What?” Mable offloaded her bag onto her cushioned cot piled high with comfy blankets.
“I saw Rowen in the market. At least an hour ago. He looked pissed. Did you finally beat him?” Hadley ditched her laundry and crawled over on all fours to sit on the floor beside Mable’s cot.
“Ha, I wish,” she replied and untied her boot laces.
Hadley’s features twisted in confusion. “Then what?”
“He asked me to leave with him.”
“Oh my god!” Hadley’s hands leapt to cover her mouth. “You are not serious!” Then she realized. “Oh my god, Mable! You said no?! What the hell is wrong with you? You better get some of that before someone else does!”
Mable couldn’t help but laugh. Despite her personal tragedies, Hadley was a heap of fun. Mable loved having her around. “What? No. It’s not like that and you know it.”
“Yeah, but it could be.” It wasn’t Hadley’s first attempt to thrust her at Rowen, the ‘tall-dark-and-handsome dreamboat’.
But it couldn’t be like that with Rowen, or any man. Mable gave up that sort of thing a long time ago. She flopped down onto her bed beside her bag, her arms sprawled across the sheets.
“Ugh, you’re so difficult! Why
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