Renegade (The Elysium Chronicles #1)(3)
“Child-care worker.”
I take the Slate from the Guard and place my hand over the glass screen, waiting for the computer to read my print and boot to the main screen. “So you’ve already been approved for breeding?”
“Yes, Miss Evelyn,” she says, and then places her hand on the screen when I hold it out to her.
I take a few minutes to study her file and nod approvingly at what I read. She is an excellent candidate for breeding.
After verifying the man’s file, I approve them for coupling on a contingency basis, pending genetic testing, and send them to the Medical Sector. They have two weeks from today to complete the necessary testing before they’ll have to report to Mother—she has the final say on whether or not they’ll couple.
I can see they’re nervous, but from what I can tell from their records, they don’t need to worry. Mother should happily grant them their final approval.
The next few people pass through without incident, asking for the typical things: a request for Mother to visit a newborn child for her blessing. A larger stipend and quarters for the soon-to-be parents of twins. I make a note in Mother’s calendar to set up a celebration for when the children will be born. Twins are such a rare occurrence, I’m sure she’ll want to do something. There’s even a sweet request from the parents of a little girl who wants to see my gardens.
All will have to be approved by Mother, but I have no doubts she’ll approve. Especially the request from the little girl. Mother enjoys my humanitarian efforts.
But my mouth is dry from all the talking. I would really like to have a drink, but I still have Citizens to attend to. I know if I ask my Guard to get a drink for me, he’ll go, but it’s not exactly his job to get me a drink and it doesn’t feel right to ask him. I’ll just wait until I’m done.
When the sixth person in line approaches me, I smile and ask him what his request is. His hands tremble, but he bows his head and says in a shaky whisper, “I want to know what happened to my wife.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, sure I didn’t hear him correctly.
“I want to know what happened to my wife.” He looks up with bloodshot eyes. “She wasn’t home when I got back from working yesterday. I’ve looked for her everywhere.”
“Name?” I ask, my hand hovering over my slate.
“Renee Davis.”
I skim the Citizen Roster, confused. “Can you spell that for me?” I ask. He does, but my Slate still shows no one by that name. I purse my lips as he continues to watch me with pain and hope mingling in his eyes. “I can’t seem to locate anyone by that name,” I say.
From the corner of my eye, I see an Enforcer step out of the shadows, and I have to stop the shudder that threatens every time I see one. Like all Enforcers, she’s wearing the customary black dress with pleated skirt that stops just above her knee. The tops of her black boots are hidden underneath the skirt. Her black gloves go all the way to the middle of her biceps and she’s wearing a hooded cape that covers all other exposed areas of skin. I’ve always found it strange that Enforcers would wear dresses, but Mother believes that no matter their duties, ladies should dress like ladies.
The Enforcer pushes her hood back, revealing the blank face they’ve all perfected. She’s the one known as Veronica. All Enforcers make me nervous, but this one is the worst of them all.
I tense, my heart beating faster. I find myself wanting to run as far away from her as I can. And it’s not just me. The handful of Citizens still in line have stopped talking and fidgeting. They hold their collective breath and step farther away from me. It’s as silent as a tomb now.
However, the moment passes and the Enforcer makes no other move, staying silent and vigilant just this side of the shadows. The icy tension in the room will just have to be dealt with. The Citizens look to me as an example of how to behave, so I must swallow my unease. I take a deep, calming breath and force a smile.
“As I was saying”—I shoot one more glance at the Enforcer—“place your hand on my Slate. Perhaps there was some sort of bookkeeping mistake.”
He drags his gaze from the Enforcer, then nods and places his hand on the glass. When it beeps, I look at the information and frown. His file states that he is Single, never been Coupled. There had been a Courting Application filed late last year, but the woman in question, a Renee Davis, had died from unknown causes during the testing process. It’s a pity Mother’s genetic matching program still can’t prevent such anomalies from happening. This Renee was clearly too weak for breeding.
My heart breaks when I realize what’s happening. I wish Mother was here to help me, but she is not. I decide to break the news to him gently.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, “but, according to her file, she died last year. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Feet shuffle behind the man and someone coughs as the man stares at me with a confused expression. The Citizens mutter among themselves and a few have angry expressions. How inappropriate, I think. This is not his fault; his broken heart is confusing his mind.
“I will have order!” I say, and immediately the room quiets again. The angry ones glance toward the Enforcer before lowering their gazes to the floor.
“That’s not true,” the man in front of me says, so softly I almost can’t hear him. “She was with me yesterday morning. We had breakfast in the Square. As we do every morning.”