Even though the conversation that followed hadn’t been fun, Joe had relished the feel of Devin’s skin, of giving him some piece of his identity, even if they’d had no way of finding out more. Not then.
Now, here they were. A scan and a few steps, and Devin would be able to live the life he should have had all along.
“Whoa,” the guard said. “A Goodknight.”
The heads of the other guards swiveled in unison. One gave a stilted laugh. “Shit, sir, what are you doing coming through a common gate?”
Devin smiled with all his teeth. “Who can say? I need to register my housekeeper.”
Joe snorted. Flix had cringed when they’d told him what pretend job he’d have. Maybe Peter and Aria could live next door. Or God, the guards acted like Devin was so rich he could have a home big enough for all of them.
The DNA sampler wasn’t anything to worry about now. Flix gagged on the machine, and before Joe could really process it, the gate had unlatched and Devin and Flix were passing through.
So easy.
“Where’s your chip?”
Joe focused on the guard. His eyes were grayish, and a thin scar lined one side of his nose. “I don’t have one.”
The guard exhaled. “Next.”
“Wait.” Joe kept his eyes level. Spoke calmly. “I’m Aaron Brady’s son. I want to apply for an intellectual visa.”
The guard looked at him blankly. “Who? Swab him.”
The DNA sampler was shoved in his face. Joe didn’t gag. A bead of sweat rolled down his spine. “Aaron Brady. He’s one of the engineers that designed the dome. He’s a pioneer. A —”
“Is he here right now?” The guard asked. “’Cause all I got in front of me is a poc with no chip, no DNA on file, and a line that’s getting testy.”
“Damn right!”
“Move on, son!”
No. This wasn’t... Joe caught Flix staring. He’d gone halfway through the gate and stopped. This wasn’t right. “I need to apply for the intellectual visa program. Take the test.”
The guard chuckled, but he didn’t sound happy. “Sure. Let me pull up the form. Education?”
“Self-educated.”
“Right. Area of expertise?”
Why hadn’t his father told him? He’d made it sound like this would be easy. Just a formality. “I’m smart. I have a high aptitude for —”
“You got the six mil for the fee?”
Joe stopped breathing. He tried to swallow. “What?”
“C’mon, kid. You’re wasting my time.”
“I have it.” Devin was all pressed up against Flix, like he was trying to get back through the gate. “I’ll pay it. I’ll pay double for figuring it out inside the gate.”
The guard’s jaw stiffened. “Mr. Goodknight. You should know we have rules. If a poc wants to test in, they have to pay the fee. Someone else can’t pay it for them. It’s part of earning their way in, proving they can be trusted to handle money.”
Joe touched his wrist where his money chip was embedded. Empty, of course. Every dime gone to placate the drug dealers and buy the tool to save Devin’s life. And that was where they were. Devin was safe. Flix. Peter. Aria. Devin yelled something, his face red, and Flix turned and whispered in his ear.
“He’s meant to be my butler,” Devin said. His smile this time was weak. “I have two servants. Housekeeper. Butler. I require both.”
“Rule is one servant per household, sir. No overpopulation of pocs inside the dome.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Devin snapped. “What does one person matter? I need him.”
The guard shrugged. “Then send the other one back over. You can switch.”
Joe met Flix’s gaze. He shook his head.
“I’ll pay you,” Devin said. “You can have the six million. Twelve million.”
The crowd behind Joe began to boo and yell obscenities. Someone shoved him toward the exit.
“We are proud to serve New America,” the guard said. “We don’t take bribes. Now make your choice.”
“I’ll leave,” Devin said.
“You leave, they both get out.” The guard pointed at Joe and Flix. “But this ain’t an exit. You choose. You want the butler or the housekeeper?”
Joe had promised them all. Told them they’d be safe, they’d get to the dome. They were safe here. And this guard wasn’t going to let him and Flix both in. One last thing. Devin would forgive him.
He lunged forward and pushed Flix through the gate. It swung shut.
Devin stared, eyes wide and mouth open. Maybe he was screaming. Joe couldn’t tell. The crowd was swarming forward, pushing Joe aside, shuttling him away. He couldn’t fight the tide. Wasn’t fighting it.
“Take care of them!” he yelled.
“Don’t leave!” Devin screamed, loud enough to hear.
“I’ll find you!”
“Don’t leave!”
The crowd swelled against him, and Joe tumbled out of the metal exit. He rolled onto his back, in a world of snow and bright sunlight. By the time he righted himself, the door to the passageway had closed.
All around, the snow glittered. Off shanties that stretched for miles. Tarps draped along ropes to make rooms. Off a rickety Maze-On in the distance, its sign barely visible under all the white. Off the dome at Joe’s back.
He sat in the snow and waited. They weren’t coming after him. Couldn’t come after him. But he waited anyway. He waited until he shivered in the cold and one, two, three, four sets of travelers emerged from the exit door and none of them were Devin. Five, six. Seven.
Joe stood. He had a promise to keep. He wiped snow from the wall of the dome. Its shell was opaque, just like the tube. Joe laid his cheek against the cool promise that had taken away his father and now his family. He closed his eyes and mumbled a vow to himself.
“I’ll find you.”
Thanks for reading Flanked! Readers have so many options these days when it comes to novels; I really appreciate that mine is one you spent your time with. If
