Chapter 9

BY THE TIME I RETURN to the main house after lunch, I’m feeling much better. I’ve managed to bury any lingering embarrassment under a giant sandwich and approximately a hundred pounds of potato chips, and I’m pretty sure I’m actually going to make it through this day.

Most of the other recruits are already in the training room when I get there, and Sim pats an empty spot on the mat next to her when she sees me. “Would it kill them to invest in some furniture?” I ask to no one in particular as I park myself safely between Sim and Augur and resist the urge to look around for Maverick. With any luck, I can make it through the afternoon without doing anything else to embarrass myself.

Sever takes the floor at the front of the room. “Welcome back,” he says, like we’re all old friends. “Many of you struggled during the first memory assessment, though, some of you did manage to pull some decent scores.” He looks at me, then Prodigy, and finally lands on Recall.

“Now, we’re going to talk about how you can improve your memory. There are three main methods we’re going to cover today: linking, pegging, and journeying. But first, we’re going to try a little exercise. We’re going to go around the room, and one by one, you are each going to name two random animals. When everyone has named two animals, I’m going to repeat all of the animals back to you. In order.”

I have my doubts that even Sever can pull this off, but he is all confidence as he starts with Dodge and works his way down the line of recruits. At first, the animals are easy: dog, parrot, rabbit, pig. But the further we get into the exercise, the more obscure the animals become: racoon, armadillo, whale shark, polar bear, lemur. I’m halfway down the row, so I have some time to think about it. By the time he gets to me, I’ve settled on some halfway challenging creatures, at least I think so.

“Cuttlefish, banana spider.”

Sever doesn’t bat an eyelash, just commits them to memory and moves on to Augur. He gets to the end of the line quickly, spends a moment in silence staring at something—or nothing—above our heads, then recites the animals back to us. Every single one. In order and correct.

My jaw might as well be on the floor. If I thought Recall’s score on the panels exercise was good, this is downright phenomenal. How much time and energy has Sever had to put into developing a memory of this caliber? Surely, this isn’t something the instructors are going to expect us to be able to do right away. Is it?

“Now, you’re all probably wondering how I managed to do that? With a code name like Sever, clearly, memory wasn’t at the top of my skill set. That means, each of you, even those who flourish in more physical endeavors, can do this too. It’s called mnemonic memory. Mnemonic actually means memory tool. Mnemonic memory is sort of like… assisted memory. You use a device or technique to help you store and recall information better.”

The word mnemonic catches in my brain, and I commit it to memory. From here, Sever launches into a droning explanation of what exactly mnemonic memory is and how it can work for us. He talks about the methods he named before, and a color word task. He throws out figures and success rates associated with the different methods, and finally, after almost half an hour of monologuing, he delves into the details of the journeying method. And it takes him forever to get through the explanation.

“The man really likes to hear himself talk, huh?” Sim whispers to me, and I chuckle quietly.

I listen to his entire explanation and absorb it, simplifying it for better remembering. Basically, for every two items I want to remember, I create one image in my mind and mentally place it somewhere I can visualize: on a path through my home, on my route to the store. That seems simple enough.

“All right, class. We’re going to dismiss you all for liberty time early today,” Sever says and steps back so Matrix can take the floor.

She holds a stack of tablets against her body and says, “When Sever calls your name, come grab a tablet from me, and you are free to return to your house. On the tablet, you will find a video chat app that has only one contact, your chosen family. You will have exactly twenty minutes to speak with your family member. Then the tablet will shut down, so make it count. These devices do not connect to any network. So don’t bother trying. You will turn your tablet in to me when you return for day two of training at 0600. Anyone who does not turn in their tablet, untampered with, will be immediately removed from The Program.”

They call us alphabetically, so after I get my tablet, I wait on the front porch for Sim to come out with hers. I try to tell myself I’m doing it to connect with her, become friends, but the truth is, I’m not sure I’m ready to talk to my mother, to listen to her tell me why she did this to me. I know it’s going to be her because there is no one else. It’s always been just me and mom. That’s probably why it hurts so much that she would do this to me. None of the other recruits trickling out of the house seem as reluctant to make their calls as I am. Some even start them on their walk back to their house.

I shift my tablet from one hand to the other, trying to ignore the sweaty fingerprints I leave with every switch. I try to tell myself it’s the humidity in the air making my palms sweat and not the nervous energy collecting in my muscles, anxious anticipation and wariness of what she might possibly have to say to me.

A million years later, Sim emerges through the front door.

“So, who’s your call going to be with?” I ask, falling into step beside her.

“Probably my dad. Maybe my mom, or one of my sisters. But, most likely my dad. He’s the patriarch.” She infuses the word with a bitterness I haven’t heard from her until now.

Clearly, I’m not the only one feeling weird about my family dynamics. We walk across the yard and into our house, then up the stairs and into our room in awkward silence. Inside the room, neither of us makes any move to sit down and make our calls. We watch each other instead.

She probably wants privacy for hers like I do for mine. I grant Sim’s unspoken request, turning on my heel and heading for the hall. “I’m going to go see if I can grab a snack. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Her shoulders lose a little of the tension I didn’t notice until that moment, and I know I’ve done the right thing. On my way out of the room, I close our bedroom door and leave Sim with all the privacy I’m wishing for myself right now.

The house isn’t exactly quiet as I trek downstairs, not like it was this morning. There’s still no abundance of conversation, but instead the sounds of bodies moving, fabrics rustling, and the faint sounds of voices from multiple devices at the same time. I head for the kitchen, which is becoming my second most frequented room in the house, and it’s empty when I get there. I set my tablet on the island and root through the cabinets for something to eat. I’m not really hungry, just restless, and even though the cabinets are fully stocked with food, I don’t end up finding anything that appeals to me.

I give up on the cabinets and move on to the refrigerator. I’m neck deep in jugs of OJ and milk when Legacy prances into the room and leans against the island behind me. “So, you had a pretty successful first day.” Her voice holds a challenge, but to what, I don’t know.

I extricate myself from the fridge and shut the door to lean against it, effecting a casual pose I don’t quite feel at the moment. “I guess. How was yours?”

“I like to take my time warming up. Really get a feel for things before I dive headfirst.”

“Slow and steady wins the race,” I return.

“So, that guy Ghost certainly seemed to take a liking to you.” And there it is. Legacy’s upset about me working with Ghost. If her words alone didn’t give it away, the sharp edge to her tone does.

I’m smart enough to know that I’m way out of my depth with this whole Program thing. I’m not trying to get myself caught up in some weird love triangle to boot. “I think he feels sorry for me.” I know it’s not true, and I suspect she does, too, but there’s my story and there I stick.

She sighs a mocking sound of acceptance and turns away like she’s going to leave. But at the last second, she sets a hand flat on my tablet and eyes me. The determination in her expression says it all. She’s doubling down on her challenge. “Made your call yet? Who’s it with, your mommy?”

Why do people do that? Why do people always think they’re offending someone by implying they have a close relationship with their parents? Under normal circumstances, I would probably let her question roll off my back, because my mother and I are close, and it’s a good thing. No, we were close, I mentally correct myself. Then she gave me away to the government.

“What does mommy have to say, hmm?” She picks up the tablet and presses the power button.

In the time it takes the screen to light up, I’m ready to leap across the island and claw the thing from her hands. I cross my arms over my chest instead. “I don’t know what your issue is, Legacy, but I bet it’s hard to pronounce.”

“Bless your heart,” she replies as she taps on the video app, not even the slightest bit fazed by my lame attempt at an insult.

Bug saunters into the room from the direction of the dining room and surveys the situation from his place directly behind Legacy. I can’t tell if she doesn’t realize he’s there, or if she just doesn’t care, but the last thing I need is two people in on my call with my mother before I’ve even had a chance to mentally prepare myself to talk to her.

“Give me back my tablet.” I growl the words at her and drop my hands to my sides. I’m fully prepared to fight her for it, even though our self-defense training this afternoon basically proved I’m not a fighter.

But I don’t have to fight her. In a movement so fluid I don’t even register it until after it’s happened, Bug reaches over Legacy’s shoulder, plucks the tablet from her hand, and slides it across the countertop toward me. It comes to a spinning stop inches from dropping off the side of the island closest to me, and I’m quick to swoop it up and cradle it against my chest protectively. I don’t know why Bug helped me, but I definitely owe him one. And I send him a silent look that says as much.

He nods and continues past Legacy toward the cabinet with the glasses by the sink. He pours himself a glass of tap water, takes a long swig, and says, “Seems to me this isn’t the time to go around making enemies.”

Legacy laughs, a low, derisive sound. “You don’t get it. They made enemies of us all when they brought us here. I’m not here to be anyone’s best friend.” Then she flips her ponytail over her shoulder and strolls out of the room.

As soon as she’s gone, I release a lungful of tense air and relax the muscles I’ve been holding tight and ready to spring into action. I slump down into one of the high-backed bar stools at the island, set the tablet in front of me, and bury my face in my hands. When I look up again, Bug is gone, and I’m alone in the kitchen once more.

Until Sim comes in a few minutes later. Her face is pale, and her eyes are red-rimmed. Evidence that she’s been crying, but she seems to have pulled herself together well enough to come down here. Her voice is even when she says, “I’ll hang out down here for a bit if you want…” She motions her head in the direction of our room upstairs.

I don’t wait for a second invitation. “Thanks.” I abandon my seat in a haste and rush out of the room. I take the stairs up to my room two at a time and don’t slow until I’m shut in our room and sitting cross-legged on my bed. Then I stop entirely. I want so badly to see my mom’s face, to hear her voice. But I’m not at all sure I want to hear what she has to say. I stare at the tablet’s dark screen for a long time, and then even longer. Finally, I pull up the app and hit call. Lord, give me strength to make it through this conversation in one piece.