\nRhys adjusted the scope of his rifle and wriggled back into place between the turret\u2019s brick walls.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cOkay, I\u2019ve got another one for you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nMilo groaned.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cDude, please, I\u2019m begging you. I can\u2019t afford to lose that many brain cells.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nRhys pressed his eye to the scope. The narrow stream remained empty, its barbed wire border intact and shining in the moonlight.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhy did the Ferrans cross the road?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nMilo sighed. \u201cSo that dumbasses like you could kill their friends with terrible jokes?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cBecause they\u2019re all chickens.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWow. Think of that one yourself, did you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nRhys made a quick sweep of the tall grass on either side of the stream.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNo, Eddie told it to me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThat\u2019s a relief. I thought maybe all that staring at Zara finally rotted your brain.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI wasn\u2019t staring.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSorry, I meant ogling.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cShut up. I wasn\u2019t staring or ogling. I just.\u201d He shifted back to the stream, scanned from the horizon all the way back to the tower. \u201cShe\u2019s really smart and pretty.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cAnd stupid strong and better at hand-to-hand than you\u2019ll ever be. She\u2019s outta your league, dude.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nRhys found Milo\u2019s leg sprawled a few inches from his and kicked it.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cShows what you know. Steen says she likes quiet, sensitive guys.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nMilo kicked him back.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSteen only told you that because she thought it would be nicer than telling you that you had a better chance of defeating the entire Ferran national army than getting a date with Zara.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cHey, I\u2019m sensitive.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nMilo snorted. \u201cIf you\u2019re talking about that pimply stuff covering your face, then sure. The rest of you is as dense as your boots and twice as loud.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe kicked Milo again and did another check of the barbed wire.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cAt least I\u2019ve got a sense of humor. That joke was funny even if you have a stick shoved too far up your ass to notice.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cBetter a stick up my ass than pebbles in my head. Wasn\u2019t your family Ferran?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nRhys\u2019s stomach twinged.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cOnly on my dad\u2019s side. And I haven\u2019t seen him since I was, like, two. I\u2019ve signed all the pledges and loyalty contracts.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cFor fuck\u2019s sake, Rhys, who do you think I am? Trenton with his little notebook? I just meant, you know, doesn\u2019t it bother you when people say stuff like that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe frowned. He\u2019d known Milo since before he could tie his shoes. They\u2019d gone through training together, been the second at each other\u2019s allegiance test. Had shared a bunk until they\u2019d literally gotten too big to fit. And they\u2019d always made fun of Trenton and his endless quests to catch someone using a non-company toenail clipper.\n<\/p>\n
\nBut Milo was Optimum, his family line going all the way back to when they were still an online wholesaler.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNo,\u201d Rhys said.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNot at all?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nMovement in the grass pulled his attention north.\n<\/p>\n
\nWobble, wobble, wobble.\n<\/p>\n
\nHe relaxed his grip on the trigger. It was just one of those little brown birds.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cFerran values are all fucked up,\u201d he said. \u201cI mean, they go on and on about the importance of hard work, but don\u2019t let people have any possessions. No homes, no beds. Even their clothes belong to \u2018the group.\u2019 And they have to be connected to that weird hub all the time. Like, do you really want everyone to know when you take a shit?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cOr jerk off while imagining Zara in her underwear?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nRhys kicked him with the hard toe of his boot.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cBut, really, is what we do any better? All those algorithms and trackers are a pain in the ass. Because yeah, sure, the size twenty-eight black skinnys I\u2019ve gotten for the last two years fit me great and everything, but what if I want to try something different, like those wild red shreds Captain Phelps has? Or that sick motorcycle jacket with the bleach stains? Man, I would kill for something like that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThis time Rhys\u2019s stomach twisted with a full-blown cramp. Sure, they were alone. And, yeah, they were wearing scramblers because they were on duty. But you didn\u2019t say shit like that. Milo had the scars all over his back to prove it \u2013 and he had gotten off easy since he\u2019d been eight and his uncle hadn\u2019t lost his seat on the security council yet.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cOf course it\u2019s better,\u201d he said. \u201cThe system takes care of us. Tells us what we need, what we should do. It understands what\u2019s best for us better than we ever could.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYeah, I know. It\u2019s just.\u201d Milo sighed. \u201cMaybe if I looked like that people wouldn\u2019t treat me like a wannabe bag boy.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\nRhys exhaled a silent breath of relief. So that\u2019s what it was. He should have known, really, considering the way Instructor Lyle had dressed him down yesterday.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNo one thinks you\u2019re like those rich little fucks who\u2019d rather carry the admirals\u2019 used condoms than actually get their hands dirty.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe snorted.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cCome on, I know how everyone looks at me. Reach shorter than most first years, shoulders that don\u2019t fill out an extra-small uniform. Family of dead officers. They\u2019re probably surprised I haven\u2019t tried to ass kiss my way into the academy or household guard unit.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cOnly because they don\u2019t know that you have even less experience kissing ass than you do fucking.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nMilo gave him a half-hearted kick.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSeriously, though,\u201d Rhys said. \u201cYou\u2019ll get into the Special Ops program next time, I\u2019m sure of it. I can help you work on your physical metrics.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nMilo didn\u2019t answer and he found himself staring at the grass, wishing he could move with the air currents as easily as it did. Not caring, not worrying. Just letting himself be moved wherever the moment took him.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cHaven\u2019t you ever wanted anything?\u201d Milo said, voice little more than a whisper. \u201cWanted it so bad even though everything \u2013 people, stats, the whole fucking system \u2013 say you shouldn\u2019t?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThe barbed wire twitched. It was a tiny movement, not even enough to tip the bells at the top. Probably another bird. Or a rat. Sometimes he thought the outpost had more rats than people.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI get it,\u201d he said. \u201cYou\u2019re frustrated. But that doesn\u2019t.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nIt happened again. A larger tremor this time, though still not enough to trip any alarms.\n<\/p>\n
\nOkay, definitely not a rat then. Maybe a snake. It wouldn\u2019t be the first time one got stuck in the wire.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI mean, the system is just trying to protect us. Keep us from hurting ourselves by making bad decisions.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThe grass began to shake, separate and reform as though something were passing through it.\n<\/p>\n
\nWhat if it was a wolf? Eddie said there was pack of them in the western woods.\n<\/p>\n
\nSweat began to drip down the back of his neck. He\u2019d never shot anything bigger than a rabbit before and even that had only happened once.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cRhys?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThe shaking stopped.\n<\/p>\n
\nIt wasn\u2019t a wolf. Or a mountain lion. Or any of the other ridiculous things Eddie had sworn he\u2019d seen.\n<\/p>\n
\nA little girl covered in dirt and scratches emerged from the reeds, arms wrapped around a plastic jug half as big as she was.\n<\/p>\n
\nHe blinked, stomach as unsteady as her gait.\n<\/p>\n
\nShe had to be from the work settlement four miles south, the one he\u2019d lived in until his mother paid a soldier to bring them to the outpost. He hadn\u2019t been much older than the girl at the time, but he\u2019d still understood that there was only one thing of value his mother could offer. And what it meant when she\u2019d emerged from that grey, weathered tent and turned right instead of heading back to the alley where they\u2019d been sleeping.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe girl stumbled. Steadied herself on a rock before dipping the jug into the murky water.\n<\/p>\n
\nIt wasn\u2019t stealing. Not really, not when you thought about how much of the water was going to wind up as waste.\n<\/p>\n
\nShe started to drag the jug toward the reeds, body divided into neat cross-sections by the black lines of the scope.\n<\/p>\n
\nAnd it wasn\u2019t like she was a threat. He could just report the tunnel in the morning, say he noticed some birds picking at something in the dirt.\n<\/p>\n
\nCommand might even praise him for it. Give him a temporary wardrobe upgrade or a badge of recognition.\n<\/p>\n
\nUnless someone else spotted the girl.\n<\/p>\n
\nThen he\u2019d be arrested. Stripped of his provisional citizen status. Sent, if he was lucky, to work in the mines.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThere is, isn\u2019t there?\u201d Milo said. \u201cSomething you\u2019re not supposed to want.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nRhys exhaled a slow breath and tried to push the awareness of his thundering heart to the back of his mind.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNo,\u201d he said. \u201cNot really.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nAnd pulled the trigger.\n<\/p>\n
Isadora spends most of her time writing, playing video games, and complaining about incorrect apostrophe use. Wind is her greatest nemesis. <\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Rhys adjusted the scope of his rifle and wriggled back into place between the turret\u2019s brick walls. \u201cOkay, I\u2019ve got another one for you.\u201d Milo groaned. \u201cDude, please, I\u2019m begging you. I can\u2019t afford to lose that many brain cells.\u201d Rhys pressed his eye to the scope. The narrow stream remained empty, its barbed wire …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":107946,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,20131],"tags":[20132],"class_list":["post-140299","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-tcl-49-autumn-2023","tag-the-colored-lens-49-autumn-2023","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140299","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/107946"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=140299"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140299\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":140300,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140299\/revisions\/140300"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=140299"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=140299"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=140299"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}