Year 354

"Renna?"

"What?"

I draw a connecting line on the wall-pad that covers one entire wall of the workroom we're using on the Analyst floor.

"I found another dialect," Orrick announces.

I groan and lean my forehead against the screen. Not again. We have been tasked with analyzing Underlang, the language of the Underlings. The Underlings, outcasts of the Civilization, live in the bowels of the Civilization Center in dirt tunnels we haven't even charted. The Underlings have lived underneath us for as long as anyone cares to remember, but we really don't know much about this secret community. The Civilizers like to pretend they don't exist, but they remain and grow as they have for decades.

I know the Underlings have grown because their language has expanded into fifteen, now sixteen, different dialects; though Underlang has some characteristics of Ameratic, it's grown into its own distinct language because they've had so little contact with the Civilization for at least a century.

"What are the differences? Phonological? Syntactic?" I ask Orrick, trying to discern where the dialects diverge.

"Both. Here," Orrick says, showing me a chart demonstrating all the differences between this new dialect he's discovered and its nearest relative.

"Yep, that's a new dialect alright."

I sigh and grind my fist against my temple. Orrick and I have been commissioned with developing a software that can transcribe and translate recordings of spoken Underlang. My more rebellious side questions how they obtained recordings of Underlings speaking and why they want them translated, but I know better than to speak my mind any more. But even though I stay quiet, I still have questions, I just find my own answers--or try to.

"Why the shell are they making us do this?" I exclaim, tossing the wall-pad pen onto the floor and collapsing into a rolling chair nearby.

"Ren, why don't we take a break?" Orrick asks. "I know what today is."

4th Quarter, day 85. The day Ryke and I were released from our imprisonment. The date will always be imprinted in my memory. It's been two years since I was interrogated and tortured for Jayse's betrayal, but I still haven't forgotten the punishment I received for his crime. Electricity. Water. Electricity. Water. The psychological torture hasn't faded away despite two years passing. The Civilization betrayed me, and that interrogation marked a divergence in my identity. I'm no longer the civilian I used to be.

"Orr, you remembered?"

"Nah, Elz reminded me," Orrick says with a laugh.

I shouldn't be surprised. Elz sent me a message on my telemessenger this morning. All it said was, "Two years. Stay strong." I know she couldn't stay anything else thanks to Civilization surveillance, but that was enough. Stay strong. If anything, I'm stronger than I ever was. Jayse leaving has inspired me to question everything I see and hear, and although I still haven't figured out what Jayse did or why he decided to leave, I haven't given up. I know Jayse wouldn't have left the Civilization without a reason, so I need to find out why.

"Do you miss him?" Orrick asks, knowing what I'm thinking about.

"Not for a minute."

Jayse and I may have been matched, but it was obviously nothing more than a pairing of convenience. We got along well enough, but he never trusted me, only Ryke. And even though two years have passed, I still don't know what Ryke is hiding. Two years, and I've made almost no progress except by stepping out of Jayse's shadow and making a name for myself as an Intellect.

"If that were Elz..." Orrick rambles off and I glance at him sympathetically.

Cool, taciturn Orrick has been in love with Elz for as long as the three of us have been friends, and Elz has no idea. I keep telling him to just confess how he feels, but he doesn't take my advice on love. Which is probably wise. Since Jayse is my only experience with the myth called love, Orrick's smart to ignore me.

"Elz wouldn't betray the Civilization and leave us behind," I say, relegating my mission to infiltrate the Civilization to the back of my mind.

"True. If anyone would do that..."

It would be me. I fill in the blanks mentally, knowing I should say no more out loud. He's wrong, though. I might betray the Civilization, but I wouldn't betray my two closest friends. I'd take them with me, but if only if I had somewhere to go.

"Back to Underlang," I say, gesturing to the monitor in front of me. "We'll worry about the dialects later. How is the transcription software coming along?"

Orrick, tech genius that he is, is working on a software that takes the language, transcribes it, and translates it into Ameratic so our Infiltrators can spy on them. I don't know exactly what sort of information they want from the Underlings, but as usual, it's not my job to know why.

"Well, the software won't be able to accurately transcribe the auditory input until we identify every single dialect and dialectal variation."

Duh. "I hate this."

"Oh, don't lie," Orrick's mouth quirks. "You love this stuff."

I smile. The man tells the truth; I adore languages, and Underlang is as rich and complex a language as any linguist could dream of. "Fine, I do. But that doesn't mean I want to uncover any more dialects."

"Well, once we figure out the dialects, I think my software will be able to transcribe it."

"And then we can develop a corpus with different search functions," I add, reviewing the final step of our plan.

Once the recordings are transcribed and translated to Ameratic, they will form a corpus, a collection of texts. Then Orrick will develop a software with various search functions to identify keywords or phrases. We still don't know what exactly the Civilizers want to search for in the corpus of Underlang data, but we're only given enough information to complete the task. If we knew too much, we'd be a liability, and I already know what the Civilizers do with liabilities.

Orrick plays a recording, the rhythmic tone of Underlang echoing through the work room. "Do you remember any of this?" he asks me.

I close my eyes to suppress the memories that surface. My past is the last thing I want to think about right now even though the images linger on the edge of my subconscious.

"No. I don't remember anything. I just know how to speak it from my work as an Analyst."

"Are you sure? You told me once that kids learn all of the sounds they will naturally acquire by 18 months, and you were a lot older when you left. Shouldn't you remember something?"

"No, Orrick," I growl, slamming my hand on the metal table where the minipad rests. "I don't remember anything."

Maybe I would remember if I'd let myself, but I refuse to go back there. I'm a civilian now--or I was before they betrayed me--and I won't go back. I'll analyze their language and listen to their surveillance recordings, but I will never return to the Underlings. I'm not one of them anymore.

"Sorry, Ren, I just thought it might help," Orrick apologizes.

The Civilization and I share one rule: We don't talk about the past. The past is irrelevant. In the past, a Nuclear War decimated the earth's population and turned it into an arctic wasteland. In the past, the Civilization saw me as less than worthless. I won't go back there. I'm an Intellect now. I matter.

"Renna? You alright?" Orrick asks me and my eyes jump to his and then return to my work.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Let's just finish this and go to dinner."

I stare at the mini-pad and immerse myself in brain-numbing work to silence my ghosts. I can't afford to spend time thinking about the past; it's already decided, but the future still looms before me.

"Renna, you ready to go?"

I recognize the deep voice that rumbles through our workroom, but I refuse to give him the time of day. Ryke stands in the doorway of the workroom, but I don't spare him a glare as I continue to sort language data into dialectal families.

"What are you doing here, Ryke? Last time I checked, you were more brawn than brains. Intellect workrooms aren't really your style."

Jayse's best friend and possible co-conspirator is still very much a part of my life since we've worked as co-instructors for Tiers 1-3 Advanced Training for the past two years. You would think that our common nightmare would have bonded us, but no. It only gave Ryke the license to annoy me at leisure, and he has the unique ability to irk me like no one else.

"Did you seriously forget? In case Mizpah hasn't reminded you recently, you're an AT instructor, not just an Analyst. Do you even check your telemessenger?"

I glance up at Ryke, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed in cocky self-assurance. His tight v-neck t-shirt shows off his broad shoulders, muscular chest, and bulging biceps in a way that can only be intentional. His arrogance always ticks me off.

"What the blitz are you talking about? Orrick and I are working on an important project, not lazing around like a good-for-nothing Justice."
Ryke glances at Orrick and throws him a half smile. "Oh, hey, Orrick. I didn't see you there."

Orrick and I both glower at him. If Ryke annoys me, he infuriates Orrick. Ryke has the tendency to show up when I'm hanging out with Elz and Orrick and pretend like Orrick doesn't exist. I think it's either because Ryke is on a mission to lure every female in the Civilization into his bed or because he just genuinely enjoys annoying people. Maybe both.

Between gritted teeth, I growl, "Are you going to tell us why you're here?"
"So you did forget." He laughs at my questioning glance. "The Tier 2 Graduation? In fifteen minutes?"

"Blast!" I curse.

"You should thank me for coming to get you," Ryke says with a smirk. "What would you do without me?"

"Shut up. Orr, I gotta go. We'll work on the project tomorrow. See you at dinner."

"See you at dinner, Orr," Ryke taunts.

"If I haven't killed you first."

I shove Ryke in the chest with one hand, but I can't even budge him. Orrick and I trade an eye roll as I follow Ryke out the door. Maybe we both hate him. I follow him to the elevator and it scans my choker before we climb in. Ryke glances at me, a smirk in his golden eyes.

"So when are you going to join me at the top?" Ryke asks.

I frown. I still haven't started Tier 4 Advanced Training to protect myself from the Civilization's all-seeing eye, but Ryke finished Tier 4 and is already one of the top Justices in the Civilization. Before Jayse deserted, my goal was to prove I was greater than my past. In the two years since then, my new focus has been to understand the Civilization from the inside out which is hard to do when you only have Tier 3 clearance and the Civilizers don't trust you.

"I'm practically given Tier 4 clearance for most of my projects anyways. Why bother with the training?"

Ryke shrugged. "You could always, I don't know, make a few friends?"

"I have Elz and Orrick." I give him a sickening smile. "And you, of course."

"Only friends?" Ryke says mockingly, clutching his chest. "I'm crushed."

I ignore him, used to his insinuations. A few months after Jayse left, Ryke started to flirt with me, and when he realized how much I hated it, he didn't stop. I'd be flattered, but as I mentioned, he flirts with everything female. It's hardly a compliment.

He does have a good point though; I have Orrick and Elz, but other than that, I'm isolated from most of the other members of the Civilization. If I want to learn more about the Civilization, I have to move up in the world, and I can't do that without connections. Advanced Training, especially Tiers 3 and 4, is supposed to build camaraderie and friendship between the top Intellects and Justices, but after the trauma at the end of Tier 3, I had no one left but Orrick, Elz, and Ryke. Returning to Tier 4 Advanced Training with my current trainees, however, sounds almost as bad as torture.

"Maybe I do need friends," I grumble. "Or at least some way to make a name for myself."

The elevator grinds to a halt, and before we get out, Ryke casts me a glance. "Say the word, Ren, and I can change everything."