“You know, sometimes if I look out the window I can see those kids we met a week ago walking around,” Zain said at the dinner table. “They must live around here somewhere in one of these sectors.”
Inaya nodded.
“Well, I can’t imagine they’d separate us from the people who introduced us to Totum. They probably chose this building for us so that we can contact each other fast.”
“For situations like me,” Uncle Malek said. He sat directly opposite from Zain and hungrily bit into a juicy piece of meat. Mrs. Qureishi had broken down crying in the middle of a market when she received the news that he’d arrived. “They’re very responsible,” he noted. “At least—the leader girl is. The other ones still have a bit of work to do. She refused to accept a thank you gift.”
“You should go and talk to them Zain. They’re around your age,” Mrs. Qureishi said. “I’m sure all three of you would have no trouble making friends. It’ll be a lot easier once I get all of you signed up in a school program. They’re said to begin a month or two from now. You’ll make friends there.”
“Maybe I can practice my fighting skills with them!” Sana said cheerily.
She had recently found a punching bag in one of the very many rooms and spent more time indulging in that than sleeping.
“Reminds me of someone,” Uncle Malek side-eyed his sister. Zain’s mother smiled.
“I heard there’s also a fair that happens every year before school starts where all the kids get to run around and have fun,” Inaya said. “I’m pretty excited for that.”
“Good.”
Ever since that conversation in the tram, Mr. Qureishi was making sure that Inaya herself got excited for things rather than being forced to act excited.
The lights above cast an iridescent yellow color onto the steak they were eating and made the silverware look gold rather than silver. The dining room was similar to every other room, building, and area in Totum. Dark blue and gold colors all around. Even the salt and pepper shakers had gold lining. It was pleasant to the eye, but Zain was starting to get tired of gold. Too shiny and tiring to look at every day.
Right as he had finished his last bite of steak, the doorbell rang. His heartbeat rose for a split second before he remembered that he no longer had to worry about Pacifems.
“I’ll get it,” he said.
Through the living room, through the family room, through the game room, and through a few smaller rooms until he finally reached his destination. He threw open the door and found himself face to face with a tall Black man wearing a thin black cloak that went down to his knees, baggy black pants, and a white shirt. His hair was in corn-braids. On his skinny yet bold face were two hazel eyes that seemed to peer right into Zain.
“Hello. Is this the residence of the Qureishis?” his voice was as deep as a cello, but it had an exciting vibration to it. Zain hadn’t heard a voice like it before.
“Yes.”
“Are there any adults in the house at the moment? Preferably a parent or relative of some kind.”
“I can go and bring one.”
“That would be appreciated. I will wait out here.”
After Zain had successfully retrieved his mother and father, they invited him in to sit in the living room.
“I’m so sorry if I’ve interrupted anything. The matter is rather urgent and I’m trying to get the issue solved as quickly as possible.”
“You’re fine, don’t worry. Kamran and I were just cleaning up dinner anyways.”
As they sat down, the man began. “My name is Sam Bolton. I am currently a mentor for the recruits of the Pacifem Resistance Organization, specifically the group that rescued you and toured you around the city. By the way, my apologies for the falling out during the ride. They usually don’t act like that—well, not all of them at least. I believe Victoria may have already told you all about how she’s trying to lead her team to get into the PRO. Well, unfortunately one of the other teams had to pull out and our team was selected to be split in two. I’m now in charge of Victoria and Cameron. The other three have been transferred to a different mentor. The problem is, we need another team member. Three is already very low and two is against PRO rules. And—well, I asked if they had anyone in mind and Victoria mentioned you, Zain. So I came here to ask if you’d be willing to join our team? Of course, with the approval of your parents.”
When everyone was silent for a good few seconds, he continued, “I know, it’s a lot to take in. If I were you I would have been just as confused,” he said with a chuckle. “Please, take your time.”
“And this PRO—all they do is go out and rescue other children? Are there any other duties?” Mrs. Qureishi asked.
“There’s one more, but as of right now you won’t be allowed to tell anyone else until the PRO reveals it. We want to reveal the info in the least problematic way. And this is an issue that a lot of people in the PRO are struggling with right now. The heads of the PRO will be training the next recruits—meaning Zain’s generation—to not only rescue children, but fight Pacifems. And they’re focusing heavily on the latter. They want to end the child ban. I’m sure you can empathize.”
“And I’m assuming there will be a high risk of being caught by Pacifems.”
“I’m not going to lie to you, Mr. Qureishi. We’re not completely sure how successful this operation will be.”
“I want to join,” Zain said suddenly. “I want to join and help end the child ban in any way that I can.”
“Slow down, Zain,” Mrs. Qureishi shut him down. “If you choose this path, you will probably have this as your career for the rest of your life.”
“Assuming they make it in, that is,” said Bolton. “If they don’t then they go back to regular schooling.”
But all Zain could think of was the fear and anger he felt the day of the earthquake, sitting in the damp, smelly library room waiting for some miracle to come and save Sana. He hated even thinking about it. He hated thinking about the child ban. He wanted to get rid of it. Whether that meant ridding Gaudium of immortality or not.
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to do something more than this, Mom. I can help other kids who are in the same situation we were in just a week. For all we know they could be in a much worse situation than the one we had in Corrin. We got lucky just at the right time. And it’s because of these people we got lucky. They saved us. I want to help save other people. Other kids.”
“Zain, are you listening? Do you realize the risks? Your putting your life on the line by making this decision. It’s not one you can make in a minute.”
“If they’re aiming to end the Child Ban, then what are they planning to do about overpopulation?” Mr. Qureishi interrupted.
“There won’t be overpopulation. Totum as a whole is against immortality and all it stands for. We are all supposed to die one day. So once we rid Gaudium of the Child Ban, we will rid it of immortality as well. We already have scientists working on undoing the immortality drug.”
“No more . . . immortality.”
“Look at me, Zain,” his mother placed her hand on his cheek and turned his head towards her. “Is this what you really want? And I mean you have to truly, passionately want to join the PRO. Disregard the fact that your new friend will be on your team, ignore who you’ll be meeting with. Is this what you want? For yourself. Not for anyone else.”
“Yes. It is.”
“No worries,” Bolton said. “You can mail the reply to the PRO by next week with your answer. Take your time to think on it. It would be smarter to come to a conclusion when you’re not in the heat of the moment. Don’t be like me,” he chortled.
“Thank you very much,” Zain’s mother said kindly. “We’re probably going to take a whole week to decide, but please be on the lookout for a letter.”
A week later the letter had been sent and Zain was eagerly awaiting his response. He’d never really wanted anything this big before; even presents on his birthday wouldn’t have been as exciting. So when he received a wine red cloak with a response letter telling him to be ready for practice in the morning he couldn’t have leaped higher.
The next morning, his mother made him breakfast and helped him slip on his waist-length cloak. Apparently every recruit had to wear one.
“Zain. I know you’re excited and everything to go and help the PRO. And join them. But listen to me. You have to be responsible and you have to be hardworking. This is a very dangerous job you’re getting into and I still don’t like it. But your father and I believe that with enough hard work and maturity you’ll keep yourself safe, alright? So make sure you’re not just messing around. Only do this if you really want to.”
“I won’t mess around. I have a feeling that this is something that I’ll naturally like, whether I have to work hard or not.”
“Good.”
The training area was just a mile and a half away from the sector, and Zain’s mother agreed to let him walk over on his own. In the last two weeks, Zain’s parents learned that everywhere was perfectly safe here. There were no thugs, no murderers, nothing that might put him in danger when he was alone. So he walked there by himself. More like marched there. At a very high speed.
When he arrived, he was met with a large, indoor facility with a running track, several obstacle courses, and a large circle on the ground. Large windows let in the sunny light from outside that was absorbed by all the cubes in the foam pit. It seemed like it would be a great place to just play and have fun.
“Zain!” Bolton yelled from across the room. He beckoned for him to come over. Victoria and Cameron stood right next to him in cloaks identical to Zain’s.
He suddenly became aware of all the butterflies flying around in his stomach. He gulped.
“What’s up, Zain,” Bolton said as he patted his back gently. He still wore the same black, long cloak. All the way down to his thighs. The hems had been cut to precision, hanging behind him in just the right manner to not make the cloak look awkward. “Sorry if I intimidated you the other day with your parents. Sometimes you have to act like you know what you’re doing to get people to listen to you. I’m usually a lot less . . . formal, say.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Zain nodded shyly.
“Now, I know you’ve already met them but this is Victoria and this is Cameron.”
Victoria happily waved to Zain, who returned it. Cameron just grimly nodded at him in a very Cameron-manner. Zain awkwardly smiled back and he turned away.
“He always opens up eventually, don’t worry,” Bolton said quietly so just Zain could hear. “Now, we’re going to actually have practice before I tell you everything you need to know, Zain. Just to scope where you are in terms of physical ability. There’s also a mental aspect of the PRO as well, but we’ll do that later. I only have two rules. Number one: Listen to what I say. The more you listen to me the more you’ll improve. Number two: Never ever call me something like Mentor Bolton or Trainer Bolton like the other teams do. I’m just Bolton until I’ve earned the title of Mentor.”
“When does that happen?”
“When you get into the PRO. Anyway, first things first. Warmup and stretches. Follow Victoria and Cameron for two miles on that track and then Victoria will explain all the stretches to you.”
Despite how horrifying two miles sounded, it wasn’t as bad as Zain thought it. For a good amount of time he was able to keep up with the other two, but he lost them at the last half mile. Next were the stretches, which Victoria taught him very patiently as she went through each step in depth. Zain watched Victoria do them in awe. She could reach her toes with her forearms and then just as quickly switch to the splits. On the other side, Cameron was doing the stretches with impressive accuracy. They made Zain look like a fool. By the end, he was exhausted enough for the stretches to be his practice for the day.
The actual exercises were just as bad as he imagined. Every action stressed his whole body. They went through every kind of exercise Zain could have imagined. Strength, speed, reaction time, decision making. Everything.
“All so that when the time comes, you can do whatever it takes to save the child you’re after,” Bolton explained as Zain failed to catch up to Victoria and Cameron.
If Zain learned one thing, it was that Bolton really knew what he was doing. Every time he messed up, Bolton gave him the perfect advice to improve.
By the time practice finished, Zain’s shirt was drenched in sweat. He couldn’t have been more grateful when Bolton beckoned for him to sit down on a bench with Victoria and Cameron, and handed him an icy cup of water. The touch of the glass sent a chill down his spine.
“How was that, Zain? You actually performed a lot better than I expected you to, so congrats. In order to fight a Pacifem you have to have a strong body and a ready mind. Even though they keep rambling on about keeping the peace, each Pacifem is trained in combat. And they’re trained very well.”
Zain thought back to Kiara taking down his whole family in a minute.
The determined light in Victoria’s eyes flickered away for a moment, but then returned just as quickly. She had gone above and beyond in every exercise, pushing herself to the limit and beating Cameron as much as she could (which was most of the time). Although, he was always close behind. Occasionally he said something to Bolton and he talked with Victoria a lot, but he never said a word to Zain.
“But it was difficult. And it’ll stay difficult. That’s just the way it goes. Victoria and Cameron will help you along the way—they’ve been in the same position as you.”
“He’s lying,” Victoria said jokingly. “Don’t worry, it will get easier. When Cameron first started he couldn’t even run the two miles.”
“I told you not to tell anyone that, Vic.“
“He’s our new teammate. He should get to know more about us.”
“First impressions are important as well.”
“She’s right, Cameron,” Bolton said. “Even if it seems silly you’ll have to know the embarrassing things about each other as well—although, maybe not in the first practice, Vic. Now for the important information. Even Victoria and Cameron don’t know this, so you’re all learning today.
“Because the recruits for this year are learning different things than the previous generations, there will be something new to determine who makes it into the PRO. The testing style will still be the same, but there will be new factors for judging. It’ll start in six months. Right now we’re ranked 95th among all one hundred teams. But everything can change with this, so we have to train for it. And all of it will take place in a headquarters outside of Totum. It’s called Glimmer. You’ll stay there for a month. What you do in Glimmer dictates if you’re in the PRO or not. Every year there’s some kind of new method to see who is worthy and who isn’t.”
“And they haven’t stated what we should prepare for?”
Bolton shook his head.
“Has anyone else ever fought Pacifems?” Victoria asked curiously.
The smile faded off of Bolton’s face as he heard the question.
“Once. About ten generations ago, only a few years after the Immortality War. We sent them into the Pacifem headquarters and not a single person came back. They must have stopped themselves from letting out information somehow— because we would all be dead right now if they hadn’t.”
“And we’ll be doing the same thing,” Cameron said glumly. “Nice.”
“Well, that’s why I’m training you. The first ones to go were the guinea pigs. You guys have a lot more possibilities at your fingertips. And you can’t tell anyone this, but I’ve heard around that the PRO is developing some kind of new weapon for you recruits to use specifically when you’re fighting Pacifems.”
A bell outside gonged very loudly.
“That’ll be the clock tower. Now, I can stick around for about thirty minutes and there’s an ice cream place I really like nearby. As a treat for Zain's first day, what do you all say we go and get some ice cream?”
“I am kind of hungry,” Victoria stated. “I’ll go.”
Cameron snorted. “I thought you didn’t like eating ice cream.”
“Well, once a year is okay. I don’t think it will affect my health that much. Besides, I’ll just run home afterwards.”
“Of course you would.”
“Do you want to go, Zain?”
“Yes. I’ve never had ice cream before.”
Victoria turned to him as if he was some kind of alien. She looked more shocked than Zain had been when Sana’s leg was ripped off.
“You’ve never had ice cream? It’s pretty much the best thing you can eat. Come on, now we have to go.”
Bolton laughed as he pulled off his cloak. It turns out his shirt was sleeveless, and now Zain could see that Bolton was much more physically fit than he noticed on first glance. His muscles were perfectly toned Zain’s arm could fit inside Bolton’s. Excited, they exited the building and got into Bolton’s sports car. There wasn’t much space inside. After struggling to put on a seatbelt for the first time, Zain and Victoria were excitedly sitting in the back seats of the car. Cameron was present as well.
It appeared that having a treat like this was a rare occasion for Victoria and Cameron. Victoria was positively bouncing in her seat and Cameron had shifted from a frown to an emotionless face.
Zain looked into the rearview mirror and saw Bolton’s eyes pointed at him.
“Forgive me for asking, Zain, but are your parents immortal? Have they taken the drug?”
Zain nodded.
“Do they regret it?”
“I have no clue,” Zain said. “It’s never been something I’ve thought about very much. They’ve always been immortal.”
Bolton nodded and directed his attention to the road.
“Why? Are you immortal too?” Zain asked.
“No. We don’t even have access to the drug here in Totum. I was born here, so. I might look older than your parents, but I’m not. I’m only 28, actually.”
“28?” Zain said bluntly. “I thought you were 20 or something.”
Bolton chuckled. “Thank you for the compliment, Zain. Cameron, your mother is immortal, no?”
“Yeah, she is.” Cameron turned to Zain, and for the first time, he spoke to him. “My mom used to live around Corrin a while ago. But she wanted to have kids, so she found out about Totum.”
“Have you ever thought about taking the drug, Bolton?” Zain leaned forward watch each store they drove by. It was still a bit of a shock.
“Of course I’ve wondered about it,” Bolton said. “Everyone’s wondered what it must feel like. But just because you wonder about something doesn’t mean you try it. Ever heard the saying 'curiosity killed the cat?’”
Zain shook his head.
“All I’m saying is, don’t let your desires define your actions, Zain. They end up hurting more than helping. If you want to follow your heart, then listen to your dreams. That’s why I’ve never taken the drug. If I cave to that, then what other desires will I fail to ignore? Besides, I don’t love the thought of watching my friends die as I outlive them.”
Victoria was oblivious to the entire conversation. She was too busy hopping and staring out the window.
"I've only had ice cream a few times before but it's amazing,” she sighed. “If I wasn't trying to get into the PRO, I'd be eating ice cream every meal every day—no sprinkles, of course.”
“What’s wrong with sprinkles?”
“Too bland!”
Zain giggled.
"In case you haven't noticed, Zain," Bolton joked, "Vic has a very large sweet tooth. I advise you not to pull out a chocolate bar near her without permission, lest you want to feel the wrath of her foot. Her foot can hit very hard when it wants to.”
He silently picked up his arm for Zain to see, and there was a single, long, threadlike line going down it. Zain winced empathetically, for it looked just like his arm after the earthquake—maybe Victoria was as strong as an unusually disastrous earthquake.
"Totum doesn't have the access to medical equipment that the rest of the world does, so they just had to stitch my arm up when Vic managed to rip it open."
Victoria’s usually brown face turned a very obvious shade of red. She weakly mumbled something about an accident.
“Don’t take it too seriously,” Bolton laughed. “She didn’t mean to. Besides, it didn’t hurt too much.”
Victoria looked more offended by Bolton's claim that the kick didn't hurt than surprised that he had forgiven her.
"It smells so good . . ." Zain breathed out as they neared the ice cream stand.
The sun beat heavily on the tiny, battered wooden sign reading: Jeremy Puff's Ice Cream and a sign under that said Fresh made, 27 flavors!
"Fun tip," Bolton happily said, "the small, local restaurants always have the best quality of food."
He led them all into the tiny building, and Zain's hairs immediately stood on their ends as the temperature dropped. After a few seconds, he realized this made sense. The ice cream needed to stay cold.
A woman wearing a pink overall and a bright yellow shirt greeted them. Despite her vibrant appearance, her face was marked with black marks under her eyes, and she seemed as exhausted as anyone could be.
"Hullo, what can I get for y'all today?" she said dully.
"I'll have a . . . dirty charcoal," Cameron read, obviously choosing the darkest of the ice creams simply for its color.
After a few more seconds, Zain excitedly asked the lady, "Yep, and can I have the coffee flavor?"
He'd never tasted anything coffee before.
It took Victoria about five entire minutes, but finally, after what seemed like a proper political debate with herself as to whether she should choose strawberry or mint, she determined she desired a "mint ice cream in a waffle cone with scattered chocolate chips."
Zain contorted his face: toothpaste and chocolate mixed didn't seem like too thrilling of a taste.
"Comin' right up.”
"Thank you so much," Bolton said warmly as he scanned his eyes over all the flavors himself.
After Zain and Victoria eagerly received their ice creams, and Cameron was handed his too, the group of four made their way out of the small, bright building. Conveniently next to it was a vast rose garden, which they meandered through as they licked their scoops of ice cream. Victoria was violently biting hers, and Zain shuddered to think of the sensation that would arise in his teeth if he did this. He thoroughly enjoyed the coffee flavor.
It took only a few more seconds of biting for Victoria to reach the cone.
Now that she had finished her ice cream, Victoria was back to staring into the distance, pondering on what the PRO would be like and how much more she would have to prepare. When they arrived back at Bolton's dark green sports car, she curiously asked, "Hey—Bolton, how much distance is between us and the sectors currently?”
"Just about seven miles. And I assume I've already predicted what you're planning on doing . . ."
“Yep. Anyways, you two can drive back home with Bolton if you want. I think I’ll just run home from here. Need to burn off all the calories.”
“Seven miles?” Zain said in shock.
“That’s light work for her,” Cameron whispered next to him. That was the second time he spoke to Zain. This time on his own accord.
Bolton stood up and rested his hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “If anything begins to hurt, I want you to stop running and walk home alright? Or get a ride somehow. You can’t injure yourself a few months before everything important.”
“I know, Bolton. Don’t worry,” Victoria said as she began to jog away.
“I still don’t think you should go, but there’s no point in trying to stop you.”
He turned to Zain and Cameron as Victoria jogged away.
“Sometimes she pushes herself so hard that it’s hurting her more than helping her. She’s got to realize her limits at some point.”
After finishing their respective ice creams, Zain and Cameron both returned to the car with Bolton in the front.
“I’m pretty sure you two live two sectors away from each other, so I’ll just drop you off near Zain’s. Is that alright?”
Cameron nodded.
“It’s pretty cool that your family has a whole sector to themself, Zain,” Bolton noted. “Families with four people or under have divided sectors. They don’t get the whole building.”
“Like me.”
“Just like you, Cameron. But think about what you’d earn if you made it into the PRO. You’ll probably have a Sector building like Zain’s all to yourself.”
Cameron didn’t respond. He simply turned his head to the right and stared out the window as he leaned against his seat.
Bolton adjusted his rearview mirror, then said, "Now, for the next six months you two and Vic are going to have to work as hard as you can. I know it’s sad that we’ve lost Evan and Blythe and Ellie”—Cameron’s expression darkened when he mentioned Evan—“but we’ve got to keep working at it. They have a new mentor and for all we know he or she could be much better than me. Let’s try to beat them. In friendly spirit, of course.”