Chapter 6 | Athena Hailway

  My homework took no time at all. It wasn’t hard, it wasn’t easy, it was just routine. Every Friday, the military intelligence girls must submit a report on our assigned target. We document their hobbies, activities, jobs, family members, and anything else deemed relevant.

  My target, however, has been preoccupied with his so-called “job.” If you can even call it that. He’s an entertainer. He entertains. I’m not sure if that counts as a real profession, but it’s what he does. Since he’s been busy, he hasn’t been home much, which means I’ve spent my allotted two observation hours each day just trying to locate him.

  His hobbies haven’t changed in years. The last major shift was when he picked up an instrument, a passion that eventually turned into his career. I have to admit, I have a bit respect towards him. Turning a hobby into a profession isn’t easy.

  His family consists of his mother, father, a sister around his age, though I’ve never been able to tell exactly how old she is, and an older brother who lives in the Fifth Colony.

  The last page of the report is always the prediction section. We’re required to guess what our target will do over the weekend. Whoever comes closest earns extra credit on the next examination. As usual, I predict that he’ll spend most of his time playing music and sleeping, leaving his house no more than five times. It’s a safe guess. I’ve been right before.

  I finish my report quickly, which is a relief, because tonight is the annual induction celebration at the presidential banquet hall. It happens every year in the Center Colony, marking the new wave of military recruits. It’s no more than an aquarail ride away from my house.

  I move carefully through the house, making sure my dad really is gone for the night. As I reach the garage, I glance at the empty spot where his car is usually parked. He’s gone. Now it’s my turn.

  * * *

  The aquarails are packed tonight, filled with families either returning to their colonies or heading toward the banquet hall. The soft hum of the water pressure system fills the car as the rail slows smoothly to a stop, barely making a sound. No screeching metal, no lurching movements, just seamless efficiency. It’s like everything else in the Center, it’s clean, it’s fancy, and it’s making us money.

  Stepping into the station, I immediately notice the usual crowd lingering near the edges. There’s many homeless individuals who’ve overstayed their welcome in the Center, now being ushered away by local military officers. It’s a scene I’ve seen before, one that repeats itself like clockwork. In the Center, there’s no place for those who don’t belong.

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  Walking into the banquet hall, I see people from all colonies enjoying themselves. The music, the conversations, the laughter; everything flows smoothly. As usual, I make my way to the refreshments table, content to observe from a distance.

  Parties have never been my strong suit, but watching people? That’s always been easy. Observing helps me notice irregularities in movement and behavior, a skill drilled into me through military intel training. For example, a man dressed in sharp green with short blonde hair is dancing with a girl about my age in a flowing blue dress. Her hair barely grazes her shoulders, but every time he looks away, she subtly shakes her head, letting it sway more freely. Why does she do that? I have no idea. Maybe it’s about staying “in the moment” or something, but-

  A tap on my shoulder jolts me from my thoughts. I turn to see a tall, broad-shouldered officer, his dark black hair buzzed evenly across his head, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

  “Well, missy, how do we do?” His stare hardens with each word. “You wouldn’t mind showing me some identification, huh? Wouldn’t want some military intelligence girl sneaking in here without a proper military date, right?”

  His tone grates against me, but I realize he’s right. I’m not supposed to be here. But tonight, I’m supposed to be free. I belong here... even if I’m not exactly allowed.

  “Well, sir,” I say, steadying my voice, repeating the words I’m supposed to be here in my mind. “I was told to be here. Why would I show up without an invitation?”

  His stern expression falters, just for a second, before returning with a sneer. “You military intelligence girls really upset me. You think you’re so fancy, so precious just because you sit behind a screen and tell us where the criminals are.” His voice rises into a growl, then a shout. “Like we don’t already know that!”

  His anger takes the breath from my lungs. I try to form a response, but nothing comes. He sees right through me, and he knows I don’t belong.

  “She’s one of the Exceptions,” a voice behind me says. “Can’t you tell?”

  The officer’s demeanor shifts instantly. His head snaps toward the speaker, his rigid posture loosening. “Oh, ma’am, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—”

  “She doesn’t want your apology,” the voice cuts in again. “Just let her have a good night.”

  The officer hesitates before stepping back, disappearing into the crowd. My breath steadies, and I finally turn to face my so-called savior.

  Warm brown eyes and curly black hair greet me, along with an outstretched hand. “Hi, I’m Dakota Williamson. Fourth Colony recruit.”

  I take his hand and shake it, noticing the slight dampness of his palm. He’s nervous too. “Athena Hailway, military intel.”

  Dakota offers a lopsided grin. “So, Athena, what brings you to a party I just saved you from getting kicked out of?”

  His teasing makes my words catch in my throat, forcing me to hesitate before answering. “I- I’m here for fun. Nothing to do tonight since my dad’s out.” The words feel awkward leaving my mouth, but somehow, I manage a full sentence.

  “Well,” Dakota says, sticking out his hand again, “want to dance?”