WA
KE
UP
The buzz of the morning alarm relieves me of the terror of sleep. I sit up, feeling wildly disoriented. I remember then that I am not in my regular quarters. My new room is larger, the walls brighter when they awaken with my movements. The bed is softer, the décor actually present, although so prosaic it’s hardly worth noticing. As I get out of the bed, the screens flicker to life.
I stand at attention as the anthem blares over the room speakers while the Dog of War displays on the screens. The Smiling Man replaces the insignia once the anthem ends.
“Good morning, Supervisor Gamble. Congratulations on your promotion to SVR. Today you will begin your training to become proficient in your newly appointed duties. First order of the day is the uniform of your station. Please take the next five minutes to dress yourself in your new apparel. Should you need assistance, press the green button for aid.”
The black uniform silently slides toward me on a revolving rack like a gloomy phantom, seeming to absorb the light with the intensity of its simplistic design. It is an outfit created to intimidate, to strike a sense of dread in the most subservient of citizens.
I dress quickly and prepare myself for my training. The Smiling Man cheerfully supplies narration.
“An obedient citizen has no excuse for tardiness. If a citizen is late for any reason, he is to immediately be reported…”
“—you should never wait for patterns of disobedience to display themselves. Report the citizen to the Dogmen at the first sign of insubordination…”
“—conversation is the ally of terrorists who infiltrate in the guise of citizens. Should you see anyone engaged in extensive discussion of any sort, report it immediately…”
“—the role of the SVR is that of a shadow. You follow, you observe, you report…”
“—silence is more than just a lack of useless discourse. It is the sound of obedience…”
“—any strange or suspicious behavior is to be reported immediately…”
“—never engage a citizen unless the Dogmen are unable to comply or are otherwise occupied. In such cases the SVR may be called upon to use lethal force.”
I am in the process of learning the quickest way to throttle a threatening suspect when my doors open, admitting a hulking Dogman. Though they are nearly impossible to tell apart, I recognize this particular one. It is Butcher, the same one who led in my arrest.
“At attention, SVR.” I hear mockery behind his snarl. He has not forgotten my recent identification as a criminal.
I stand up straight as Ursula enters, shadowed by a pair of additional Dogmen. Her onyx eyes lock onto mine as she addresses her bestial bodyguards.
“You may leave us.”
The Dogmen don’t like the order, but they have no choice but to comply. Butcher shoulders me roughly as he passes.
“You might fool them for now, but not me. I can smell a traitor from a mile away. They all have the same cowardly scent.” He growls warningly as he leaves.
Ursula’s lips quirk as the Dogmen exit. “My bodyguard is quite protective, as you can see.”
“Yes, Madam Lieutenant.”
She circles me, prickling my skin with the intensity of her study. I try not to clench my shoulders from the sensation. I catch the scent of cloves and cinnamon that clings to her skin. I am sure she didn’t smell that way earlier.
She is without her officer hat and coat. Her ivory uniform shirt appears soft and clings to her body in a manner that makes me recognize her womanhood. I try to keep my eyes forward as she finishes her inspection.
She regards me through her sooty lashes. “You look natural in that uniform.”
“Thank you, Madame Lieutenant.”
She taps a gloved finger on her lips. “You don’t realize your importance in all of this yet, do you?”
“I am not important. I am merely a tool to be used by the Sovereign as is seen fit.”
She nods approvingly. “Indeed. You repeat what you have been taught quite well. But I wonder if your heart is as devoted as your tongue.”
The question catches me off guard. “My…heart?”
“Obedience is a practice,” Ursula says. “Devotion is a personal choice. You were found with the paraphernalia of the enemy. That would indicate your heart is not aligned with what your mind knows to be true.”
I glance at her from the corner of my eyes. Her expression may as well be carved from ice.
“Do you know why you were working as a drone, Franklin?”
I offer the automatic response. “To perform my duty as a productive citizen—”
Her words slice through my reply. “You were committed to that station as a criminal, Franklin. You spoke out against the Sovereign and were caught in the act of assembly without permission. You were there at the start of this so-called Wake Up movement. As with all that were found guilty of treasonous crimes, your sentence was to serve. We took your mind and expected you would die in your service. But you did not accept your position.”
I can only look at her while my pores bleed sweat under my uniform.
She resumes circling me like a bird of prey. “Now you’re wondering why we promoted you. It’s simple, really. Strong minds are too valuable to waste. You earned your exoneration by breaking the shackles of your mental imprisonment. As a reward, you have earned a certain degree of leniency. Should you do well in your new position then more privileges will be granted.”
Her scent envelops me as she steps closer. “I was once in your shoes, Franklin.”
Something must have shown on my face, because she laughs softly.
“Don’t look so surprised. I once was as misled and rebellious as you were. But the benefit of a free mind is the ability to learn that order is a better option than chaos.”
I try to read Ursula’s eyes, but it is impossible to tell if she is speaking from indoctrinated programming or her own free will.
She smiles slightly as if aware of my scrutiny. “Do you know what things were like before the Sovereign Empire? A Babylon of empty heads speaking in conflicting tongues, spreading lies and deceit to the masses until violence and war was the only answer. Religion, philosophy, politics — all designed for man’s failure and destruction.
“But the unification of the Sovereign changed all of that. It ignited the Last War and used its triumph to establish a regime of silence and obedience. No longer are we troubled by bickering opinions and exchanges of philosophical nonsense. The machines of industry enriched our society, allowing leisure and comfort to all those deemed worthy. Those who rebel are condemned to service.”
Her dark eyes smolder. “But there are always those who choose the closed fist over the open hand. Those who sabotage and try to disrupt the system with their terrorist ideas and actions. They are the rust that wears at the core of our society, seeking to stop the cogs from turning in the machine. They are the smallest minority, yet with brutal cunning they slip into our infrastructure and wreak havoc before they meld into the populace like rats to their hiding places.
“And they have marked you as their own, Franklin.”
Her words hang over me, threatening as storm clouds. I clench my fists to keep my hands from trembling.
“I’m…still not sure what you want of me. If you suspect I’m affiliated with these…terrorists, then—”
“Then why elevate you to a position where you can possibly do more damage? A fair question, SVR Gamble.” She reaches up to adjust my collar. With her lips parted and so close to my face, I can almost imagine her leaning in for a kiss. My face heats at the thought.