Читать книгу Firstlife - Gena Showalter - Страница 6

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.

—CHARLES DICKENS, A TALE OF TWO CITIES

TROIKA

From: A_P_5/23.43.2

To: L_N_3/19.1.1

Subject: Tenley Lockwood

Duuude. A heads-up would have been nice. Can you say whack shack?

If you failed to read my dossier, Nanne, I’m happy to bring you up to date on the highlights. I’m a well-trained and vastly decorated Laborer. Victory might as well be my middle name. What I’m not: a babysitter. Watching Tenley Lockwood is a waste of my many talents.

Oh, AND DID I FORGET TO MENTION SHE’S IN A WHACK SHACK??

With all due respect, I’d rather fish out my internal organs with a coat hanger than stay here. I’m officially requesting a transfer.

Light Brings Sight!

Archer Prince

TROIKA

From: L_N_3/19.1.1

To: A_P_5/23.43.2

Subject: Officially Denied

Mr. Prince,

I’m not your duuude. I’m your superior. You will only ever address me by my proper rank: General. Or the always appropriate sir.

You were selected for this mission for two very important reasons. You are young and (obviously) immature. Offense intended. Our older Laborers had trouble relating to Miss Lockwood, but you should fit right in.

On that note, continue “babysitting” Miss Lockwood, or I’ll fish out your organs for you.

Also, I expect daily reports. I’m not overstating when I say convincing her to make covenant with our realm is essential.

Light Brings Sight!

General Levi Nanne

TROIKA

From: A_P_5/23.43.2

To: L_N_3/19.1.1

Subject: You Suck (& I’m WAY Mature)

Dear Sir,

Laborer is below your pay grade, but aren’t you one of those “older” gents who failed with the girl? Just checking. (And prepping you for the time I succeed and rub it in your face.)

Anyway. I’m a good little robot, sir, so of course I’ll do as you asked. Sir. Here’s the thing, though, sir. If I have to watch/listen from the outside a minute more, I’m going to bleach my corneas and stab a pencil through my ears.

I want my Shell, and I want to go INSIDE the whack shack. Sir.

Also, here’s the first report as demanded. I mean so sweetly requested. Sir. During the institution’s version of creative writing class, your precious had to write a poem to express her feelings about life. I’m including a copy for your perusal. I defy you NOT to jump off a bridge after reading it. Sir.

The grave is the end

And I will never accept that

I have been set free from the chains that bind me.

I know

“Death has lost its victory”

Is a lie, because there is no greater truth than this:

“Life is hopeless”

Gotta say, I don’t think Darkside McDowner is a great fit for Troika. I know, I know. We love the unlovable. We champion the weak. I don’t need a lecture. Just tell me what makes her so “essential.”

Your humble servant,

Archer

TROIKA

From: L_N_3/19.1.1

To: A_P_5/23.43.2

Subject: Poem, Among Other Things

I didn’t fail with her, puppy, I cleared the way for you. There’s a difference. Want to succeed? Learn it.

Expect a Shell at 0800. Just don’t expect yours. I’ve selected one from GenPop. And before you reply with your typical flare—General Population? Are you kidding me (dramatic pause for effect), sir?—save your fingers the trouble of typing. I’m not sending what you want. I’m sending what you need. You may thank me later.

Also, in regards to the poem. Miss Lockwood understands there are two sides to every story. Why don’t you? Do yourself a favor and read the poem again. This time, start at the bottom and work your way up.

And, Mr. Prince, the fact that I have to tell you what’s so special about this girl means I need to schedule you for an emergency jackhammer to the brain. Do yourself a favor and pay attention to the pearls I’m about to throw. Light. Conduit. Loss...darkness.

Oh, and here’s a good one: Moron. Again, offense intended.

TROIKA

From: A_P_5/23.43.2

To: L_N_3/19.1.1

Subject: Four Things

1) Sir Dude. I don’t want to point out your obvious lack of intelligence, but Tenley Lockwood can’t be a Conduit. Given your advanced age, you’ve clearly forgotten Conduits are raised by Troikan parents. They are the most loyal among us, from beginning to end.

2) And okay, okay. I read the poem from bottom to top, so I get your “two sides” theory. That doesn’t mean the poem is any good. It doesn’t rhyme.

3) The Shell arrived, and I honestly I think hate you. I’m pure male aggression, and you expect me to pass for a chick? As if anyone will be dumb enough to believe such a farce.

4) Myriad sent Killian. I’ve seen him skulking around in the shadows, watching the girl. Permission to slaughter?

TROIKA

From: L_N_3/19.1.1

To: A_P_5/23.43.2

Subject: Permission Gr... Denied! (Admit it. Your little-girl heart skipped a beat.)

You know our laws as well as I do. And what is at the heart of our second-most-important decree? Personal vendettas must be set aside for the good of the people. You are one of our people.

Do your job. Nothing else matters.

MYRIAD

From: K_F_5/23.53.6

To: P_B_4/65.1.18

Subject: My New Assignment

Hot and crazy, just the way I like ’em. Consider Tenley Lockwood bagged and tagged.

Might Equals Right!

Killian Flynn

MYRIAD

From: P_B_4/65.1.18

To: K_F_5/23.53.6

Subject: Show Some Respect!

You will speak of the girl with deference, or you won’t speak of her at all.

I’m already close to pulling you from this assignment, Mr. Flynn. In fact, I have no idea why I allowed the Generals to convince me you can do what no one else has managed to do. You’re too young, and your methods for success have always been inappropriate. But not this time! Persuade the girl to make covenant with us, but keep your pants zipped while you do it. And do not fail. We need her.

Might Equals Right!

Madame Pearl Bennett

MYRIAD

From: K_F_5/23.53.6

To: P_B_4/65.1.18

Subject: Fail? Not in This Lifetime <—See What I Did There?

You’ve never cared about my methods before, only the end result. What’s changed? What’s so important about this girl? If you’ve got inside info, do me a solid and share with the rest of the class.

And just so you know, we don’t need anyone. We’ve never been stronger, and we outnumber the Troikans two to one. Also, this girl is basically an “it.” When she dies, she’ll just be one more cog in our wheel. But don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’ll sign her—my way. I always do.

In other news, Troika sent Archer. I’m going to cut off his limbs and beat him to Second-death with them.

MYRIAD

From: P_B_4/65.1.18

To: K_F_5/23.53.6

Subject: NO!

Control your temper until you’ve signed the girl. Afterward, I’ll use my highest pair of heels to pin Archer down, and you can flay his skin to wear as a coat, if that’s what you desire. Have I made myself clear? Do not engage. Not yet!

And the girl is so much more than an “it” and a “cog.” Everyone is! But this girl...one day, she’ll be your boss. She’ll be both our bosses. If I were you, I’d be careful how I treated her.

MYRIAD

From: K_F_5/23.53.6

To: P_B_4/65.1.18

Subject: Sorry, but You’re NOT Me

What you are? Too cute. Imagine me wincing in embarrassment for you as I say: I don’t actually care about your permission. Consider my last message an FYI.

And you know better than most I treat my bosses the same way I treat everyone else. If you don’t like it, Madame, you can absolutely reassign me. I have nothing to lose. I’m guessing you have plenty.

MYRIAD

From: P_B_4/65.1.18

To: K_F_5/23.53.6

Subject: Nothing to Lose?

How about something to gain? Sign the girl, and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted. Your mother’s name and where to find her.

I’ve been told history is written by survivors,

but I know that isn’t always true.

My name is Tenley Lockwood and very soon, I’ll be dead.

This is my story—but my end is only the beginning.