Chapter One (With Prologue)

Prologue

 

I never wanted this to happen.

It was an accident, all of it. I blame myself for ever having the curiosity to uproot my life and break apart everything I knew. That is precisely what i did; if my life were a string, I unraveled it, strand by strand, separating the parts so that they were so disconnected, they no longer recognized each other for what they were; a match to themselves. Unwinding something is so easy, you see. It takes no effort at all. All you've got to do is initiate one little pull, and everything comes tumbling down in an uncertain tangle of threads, so much weaker than they were as a whole.

 

But then, I can't say I regret it. Certainly not. I needed to know the truth, didn't I? But should I expose that truth and watch everything unravel not-so-neatly around me? Would I have been able to bear the knowledge that I could possibly be knotted in a desperate weaving of lies? Would you, for instance, be satisfied with the idea that those you cared about could possibly evil? Or would you want to know, despite what it did to your life?

 

That's how I felt. Utterly confused. Would I rather destroy everything I knew than to drop it all and forget? Some people might think that the worst conflict is with another person; you've got less control over the outcome, of course, and you could be physically harmed, even killed in the quarrel. I know better- a conflict with yourse is a leech, sucking out all the good blood, all the sane thoughts you might possess, and replacing it with poisonous toxins that lurk in the back in your mind, waiting to trickle gently, oh, so gently, into the core of your existance.

 

Undoubtedly by now, you're wondering what choice I made- the truth, or blissful ignorance? I can't simply tell you what my decision was- nor about the ensuing events- for how could you possibly understand it, when you know so little of my life and my morals? Of the situation at hand, how deeply complex it was? So I shall show you.

 

Remember that string I was talking about? Picture that in mind, now...not unravled, not yet, but immaculate, new, and unblemished as a lamb, perfect in every way on the outside...but lurking just overhead was a noxious hand, waiting to give the frayed strand a tug.

 

Chapter One 

I think it's best I start at the beginning, don't you? Always a good place to begin, and so aptly named, too. If you'd like, I could dissect the word for it's Latin root, its various meanings...but somehow, I think that might bore you. Sometimes, I become too accustomed to Tal, holding on to my every word like it's a precious emerald that will only last for a second. I forget that everyone else treats me like an average, if abnormal, human. Forgive me.

 

Regardless, my initial task must be to explain why I'm writing this. First, I must tell my story; this is my first priority. I have to give hope to the Naturals, that they might one day escape the tyranny they suffer under. I have to show the Witnesses that there is more to this world than light and dark, to reveal that there is not just a sun and moon, but also stars, comets, planets, dawn, dusk, twilight, daybreak. But I get ahead of myself. Undoubtedly, as you sit in your bedroom, or academy, or maybe even prison cell, reading my words, you are wondering what in the world of oceans I'm talking about. Have patience with me- remember, this is all new to me, too.

 

The other purpose is purely selfish. Throughout the course of my eighteen years, I've been alone at various times, with no one to confide in, even when I had no knowledge of that. Now, of course, I shall never have to be alone again, but I still have this unsatiable desire to tell my story to someone. I'm quite sure you don't want to listen to my voice that long. Much better to read it; trust me on this, all right? As I trust you with my tale.

 

And never fear, for I can swear that there's a happy ending. At least, for me. I'm afraid I can't say the same for the rest of the world in general, but that's a problem I'm working on. Promise.

 

Now read on, if you're brave enough. If you're the rebel sort like me, who can't resist the opportunity to broaden your perspective as you know it. If you're never quite satisfied with the easy trail, the milder walk of life. So go ahead, satisfy that thirst. I dare you.

 

I was seventeen when the change began. My life was perfect. There was nothing I could possibly want to alter, but alter it did. Knowing the truth as I do, I can't imagine how I managed to live each day so blissfully, so ignorantly.

 

It all began to unravel one average afternoon, when my closest friend Viol and I were waiting for our next assignment.

 

I sighed, leaning back in my chair and re-pinning the strands that had come loose from my long golden braid. "What time's the next training class, Viol?" I asked my friend, seated next to me. 

 

“In half an hour-” Viol was interrupted by two soft chimes emitted from the armbands each of us wore. We groaned together, slid out of our chairs, and raced each other down the stairs to the ground floor.

 

I made a face before giving a sharp whistle. “I hate these runs,” I grumbled, waiting until a my notus, a sleek, white disk, flat and just wider than my feet, had flown over to me, hovering a foot above the ground as it waited for me to step up. “The TC only give us the dull assignments. We’ll be Lady Witnesses in a fortnight- well, you will be, anyway,” I amended, glancing at my friend. “I’ve still got a month until I turn seventeen. Still, you’d think they could trust us a bit, wouldn’t you? We’ve been going on minor missions like this since we were about twelve, for Doves’ sake.” TC referred to the Tranquility Convention, the council of experienced Witnesses, who decided what assignments we Lesser Witnesses could take, such as this one. “Come on, Viol,” I added with a touch of impatience. “Call your notus, or we’ll be left behind the others. Where’s our crew?”

 

Viol gave a whistle, too, and her notus zipped over from the landing banks across the Green; after stepping onto hers, she answered, “I saw Xerc and Ava from the window on our way down, already outside. I don’t know where the others are. Probably gone already. Or they haven‘t left yet.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “Hurry up, then.” I stood gracefully, like all Witnesses, even in absolute stillness, primarily balanced on my right foot, which was angled directly forward, with the left one pointed three-quarters back, like a dancer waiting for class to begin. Everyone had their own stance on a notus; Viol, for instance, stood with her weight equal on both feet, which were planted at the extreme opposite ends of the board. Not only was it infinitely more swishy to have your own stance, but, just like a distinctive whistle, it was a way for your notus to identify you. Notus, in order to work most effectively, had to know the rider in order to adjust to the weight, posture, habits, and personal preferences for certain aspects- such as speed or turn-sharpness. You could ride a different one, but it was much more difficult, uncomfortable and dangerous. Far too easy to fall off at an unexpected movement.

 

I leaned forward, increasing my speed, as Viol followed behind me. As I rode, I checked my armband, the gadget that had alerted me before. It now displayed a message from the Witness Headquarters. “Location is 45 degrees East, 30 West,” I called out as my friend and I wove back and forth, crossing each other’s paths in a zigzag. Both of us nudged a small panel in the corner of their notus, and repeated the coordinates to program them to the proper route and destination. After a moment, I narrowed my eyes against the sting of the wind. “I see them,” I said finally. “Cril, Rowe, and Vin. Xerc and Ava must already be there.”

 

Finally, the notus slowed, halted simultaneously, then descended to hover a few inches off the ground.  Viol and I abandoned them and streaked toward the small domicile, running faster than any gazelle. Cril, Rowe, Vin, Xerc, and Ava were waiting for us at the front. Cril, our lead, stepped forward and pounded on the door. “Open up! Witness search!”

 

The hinges squeaked open to reveal a man, probably a decade older than us, with a defiant expression. The resisters always did look stubborn. “All right. All right. Come in, then. What’ve I got to fear from a pack of kids, anyway? I’ve nothing to hide. Witnesses, at this age- honestly,” he muttered, reluctantly allowing us entrance. 

 

The seven of us, four males and three females, entered as silent and stealthy as ghosts. I crept up next to Cril, my movements distinctly feline. I always liked being near the front; the danger, the thrill, was so much greater there. Not that anything is really hazardous to us, of course, I thought, a rush of pride filling her. All Witnesses, whether at the highest levels of Lord and Lady, or the junior position of Lesser, were extremely cunning. There were very few humans who could present a serious threat to them.

 

My hazel eyes were bright with alertness as they searched the bedroom. The others had drifted off to other rooms in the domicile, and I was alone, except for the man, who’d followed me in. I searched quickly, yanking open closet doors and shining my violently intense laser light under the bed. There, huddled in a corner, was a young girl, probably my own age or not much older. Her frizzed brown hair was embedded with leaves, twigs, and other telltale signs. “Legitimacy card?” I asked, my voice bored with routine. The other girl, shivering, shook her head, her eyes bright with terror. Also called an LC, legitimacy cards were required to be on all persons, marking them as having a legal existence in the Society. 

 

I reached under the bed and pulled the girl out with ease, despite the fact that the latter was slightly larger than me; given my slight form, that wasn’t saying much. “Let’s go,” I snapped. “Witness HQ. Are you a Runner or a Natural?” Runners was slang for ‘runaway’, and Naturals were those who’d been born outside of the Society. Barbarians, I well knew. 

 

However, at this query, too, the mousy-headed girl shook her head. Irritated by her lack of cooperation, I snatched the girl’s wrist and started pulling her downstairs. The man stepped in front of us, his hands together, the way Naturals prayed to their false God. “Please,” he implored. “That’s my niece. Please, I beg of you! Can’t you turn a blind eye? Just this once? I swear, I won’t say a word. Please!” All traces of his earlier bravado was gone, and tears began to drip from his dark eyes. 

 

I laughed in the man’s face and shook my head, side-stepping towards the door. “I don’t think so. What are you, a fool?” I smiled, amused. “Don’t you get it? You’re coming, too. Housing an illegal is a crime under the Doves’ Decree. You’re pathetic,” I sneered, pushing both of them downstairs. “Cril!” I called. “I have them! Found an illegal, no LC.”

 

The auburn nineteen-year-old, a full Lord Witness for over two years, hurried forward. “Excellent. Natural? Or Runner?”

 

I shrugged. “No idea. She won’t tell me. Doesn’t really matter, though, does it? She’ll be taken care of, soon enough.” Cril and I exchanged grins. One more worthless illegal off the streets.

 

“But we’ll need to find out where she’s from. You know the rules, Melrose. She might have information on other illegals. We might be able to trace her back to a big ring of them,” he reminded me. Cril’s voice softened. “Nice job, though. I just might have to make you my second in command.”

 

I froze, still holding on to my two captives, and whirled to face him. “Are you serious?” I asked him with a gasp. “I’m not even a full Lady Witness yet.”

 

He smiled, touching my shoulder. “No, but that doesn’t matter. The TC knows that I’m in charge of our crew. I can appoint whoever I want to be my second. You deserve it, Mel.” Our eyes met for a second before I turned away, flustered, though I was smiling, too.

 

The five others burst in, then. “Found ‘em? Swishy!” Xerc crowed, examining the illegal and her uncle. He always irritated me, and we'd never gotten along well. We clashed too much. Both of us liked to be in charge, and both of us were the wildest of our crew.

“I’ll take the hider on my notus,” Rowe volunteered, the most willing of any of us. He was the happy-go-lucky type, perpetually in a good mood and eager to help.

 

The most practical, as always, Viol checked her armband and spoke, “We’d better send the TC a message, and let them know what’s going on.” She spoke into the small intercom on the band to relay the dispatch back to the Witness Headquarters.

 

“I’ll take the other one,” I suggested. “Get on the notus,” I commanded the girl, who, for once, was obedient and did as I said. “Let’s go.”

 

Flying the way back was rather slower- mine and Rowe’s notus had to accommodate for the extra person, and we had to be more cautious- but our group of friends were laughing and talking, buzzing with the excitement that came after a raid. “So what’s her name?” Vin asked, glancing at the girl who rode with me. As always, he was anxious to obtain all the necessary information, constantly worried about getting into trouble with the Tranquility Convention.

 

I laughed. “Relax, Vin. She’s not going anywhere. And besides, I’m Professor Taro’s favorite student,” I told my friend, speaking of the chief of the TC and my personal mentor and guide. “He’s not going to get angry with us.”

 

Vin shot me a sheepish, apologetic look. I gave him a half-smile. “Don’t worry, we all think about our record sometimes. You won’t be discharged- we’re all going to make it in. The last time they discharged someone was over a decade ago.” The day a Lesser Witness turned seventeen, the TC examined his or her record for possible slip-ups or overlooks before permitting them to become a Lord or Lady Witness. Vin’s birthday was a day before Viol’s, so his evaluation would be in about two weeks, as well.

 

“You won’t get away with this,” the girl hissed in my ear, so only I could hear. Startled, I turned to look behind me at the stranger, having nearly forgotten she was there. It wasn’t as though I needed to monitor her, anyway; we were speeding along at nearly fifty miles per hour, twenty-five feet above the earth. The girl would be an idiot to try and jump from that high up, that fast.

 

“What?” I queried, my voice rising octaves in disbelief. “What did you say?”

 

The girl’s flat black eyes glared sparks at me. “I said, you won’t get away with this. You and your friends. I didn’t go through purgatory just to be thrust into hell by you. This isn’t over.” She looked up me. “Deus indulgeo vos, pro ego cannon.”

 

I froze, raising my eyes to the girl’s. Was that Latin? I spoke the old dialect- I loved reading, even reading the old books from the pre-Dove era. Some of them were only in Latin, so I’d quickly learned the dead language. But how would a wild Natural or Runner like the captive speak it? Furthermore, how could the girl know that I knew it? Most Witnesses didn’t bother learning it, for there wasn’t a lot of use for it. And if I wasn’t mistaken, the words meant ‘May God forgive you, for I cannot.’ Either way, something convinced me not to say anything to me crew, to keep this between us. I couldn’t believe it, even as I considered the thought- was I actually thinking about talking to this illegal like she was a real person?

 

“Ego operor non tutela. Vos es non forensis. Nequam. Quis est vestri nomen,” I answered sharply; ’I don’t care. You’re an illegal. Worthless. Now tell me your name,’ I had said.

 

The other girl looked just as stunned as me. “Ego sum Pala,” she gave her name. “Et qui ego sum est un malum prohibitum solus. Et non omne quod licet honestum est.” Which I quickly translated to, ‘And what I am is only a prohibited wrong, not an inherent evil. And not everything that is permitted is honest.’

 

I was outraged. Was this girl- Pala- actually insulting me? Could she possibly be implying that the Witnesses were not created solely to destroy evil and promote good? I narrowed my eyes. “Nos es numen.” I insisted, saying, ‘We are the divine power.’

 

Pala shook her head. “Nihil est--In vita priore ego imperator romanus fui.“ At that, I had to laugh at the older girl‘s audacity- it meant, ‘That’s nothing- in a previous life, I was a Roman emperor.”

 

Pala’s expression shifted, more serious.  “Vos decipio orbis terrarum,” she said. ‘You deceive the world.’ 

 

“Mundus vult decipi,” I corrected her, saying that ‘the world wants to be deceived.’

 

Pala gave a short, barking laugh. “Nulla regula sine exceptione.” ‘There is no rule without exception.’
 

I shot her a fierce look. “Me oportet propter praeceptum te nocere,” I warned, saying that ‘I’m going to have to hurt you on principle.’

 

The darker girl didn’t move on the notus. “Gratiae pro admonitio,” she replied. ‘Thanks for the warning.’ The two of us glided along in the center of the crew silently, each thinking their own thoughts. I couldn’t get the other’s words out of my head. You deceive the world…there is no rule without exception. I was still in a mild state of shock, that I’d spoken to the illegal like I would to an equal. I’d even warned her, to a certain extent, of what was to be her fate. 

 

Arriving at the headquarters, I banked, stopping the notus, and hopping off, pulling Pala with me. “Let’s go,” I said, switching to English. “And don’t try any ruses. We’ll be watching you.”

 

“Melrose!” The chief cried out, rising to his feet as we paused in his doorway out of respect. “I see you’ve been successful once again.” He surveyed the captives. “Whose?”

 

“Hers!” Cril interjected, giving me a broad smile. “I’m going to make her my second.”

 

Unexpectedly, Professor Taro approved. “Excellent. As she should be. I can’t wait until you’re a Lady Witness, Mel,” he said to me, patting me on a shoulder. I smiled up at him, delighted that he approved of me so fully but slightly embarrassed by all the attention. “Have a seat. Now, what are their names?”

 

I gave Pala’s name, and Rowe said the uncle’s name was Wes. Professor Taro was still congratulating us when Pala whispered in my ear, “Ego sum eximius.”

 

I was paralyzed for a nanosecond before I leapt to my feet. “Lockdown!” I shrieked, reaching out lightning-fast, but in trying to seize both, each had slipped out of my grasp and bolted for the door.

 

The others were still staring at the doorway, not quite understanding, but as the captives escaped, the room sprang into action. “Grab them!” commanded the professor, and my crew quickly obeyed, sprinting after the illegal and her hider. We called our notus and were soaring after them in seconds.

 

I leaned now against my notus, the wind stinging my face and singing in my ears. “Where are they?” I cried in frustration, scanning the ground for two people running.

 

“There!” Xerc called out, pointing ahead…at a pair of notus. I watched them in disbelief. Normal humans didn’t have notus. Most couldn’t even fly them if their life depended on it- that was a privilege reserved for Witnesses only. They must have a lot of practice, to fly so easily. I shook her head wildly to clear it. Focus on the task, I reminded myself. This was my assignment, my responsibility. I couldn’t let them escape. “I’m going to split off,” I shouted as I darted past Cril.

 

“Where are you going?” he yelled at my back, shocked that I was acting without orders from my lead.
 

I didn’t answer, just pressed forward until I was crouched so low that my calves nearly touched my slender upper legs. I broke off from the pack and directed my notus into the trees. I  easily dodged the pines, keeping in eye on the runaways ahead of me, just barely visible through the thicket.

 

The escapees may have notus, but I was born to ride. I urged my notus on to greater speeds until I was riding about thirty yards to the left of Pala and Wes. I made a sharp turn and cut in front of them, directly in Pala’s path. This was a risky move, I knew; if they didn’t stop in time, they would probably crash into me. At sixty miles an hour, two dozen feet up, no one would come out of it unscathed. A fall would be lethal.

 

Fortunately for both of us, Pala had good enough reflexes to bank in time, stopping abruptly inches from my notus. “Are…You. Insane?!” the girl managed to gasp out, panting.

 

I narrowed my eyes and smirked. “Yes. And you’re under arrest by the Doves’ Decree, under jurisdiction of the Witnesses. I hope you like needles,” I added as I activated the handcuff beam so that a ring of light- a deadly, skin-dissolving laser- circled Pala’s wrists. I’d have to wait for the others to catch up; Icouldn’t hold Pala while trying to capture Wes, or they’d both get away again.

 

Pala’s tortured eyes swung to her uncle’s. “Go,” she ordered. “Leave me. I’ll be fine.”
 

Wes shook his head, continuing the conversation as though I wasn’t even there. “You heard what she said, Pala. Needles. You know they’ll kill you. One injection of sodium pentobarbital and you’ll be dead. I won’t leave you to that fate- I promised your father.” Pala was about to protest, but Vin had already arrived and grabbed Wes’ shoulder, activating his own lasercuffs.

 

Cril flew up to me then. “Nice job,” he congratulated me. “Not only did you find the illegal, but you caught her, too. I’ll definitely tell the TC about this, Melrose. You’re…” he struggled for words before grinning. “You’re swishy.”
 

I was startled; the crew’s leader rarely used slang-speak or edgy lingo like “swishy”. He must be really impressed, though he shouldn’t be; it hadn’t been very hard to find Pala (nothing like the assignments when the illegals were hidden behind secret panels or passageways that took some serious skill to find). Still, I was pleased by his attention.

 

Viol zoomed up next to me, giving me a knowing smile, but all she said was, “Come on, Mel. Better get back to base.”

 

The entire way back to HQ, I felt a prick at my conscience. How had I allowed them to escape? I should have lasercuffed them from the beginning. Looking back now, I couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t. I didn’t deserve the praise- not Cril’s, nor Professor Taro’s. In catching Pala, I’d only cleaned up the mess I had allowed to spill.

 

Ava boarded up to me. “What did she say, right before she escaped?” asked the small redhead, nodding at Pala. “How did you know she was going to run?”

 

Glancing at Pala as well, I quietly translated. “She said, “I’m the exception‘.” I explained their earlier Latin conversation, and Ava nodded slowly, biting her lip.

 

“Do you ever think about…I mean, do you ever wonder if we’re doing the right thing? As Witnesses- you know, capturing illegals. Sending them to…to punishment.” Ava asked, her brow crinkled with uncertainty.

 

“Of course we’re doing the right thing. Our job is to keep the Runners and Naturals down, and to make sure the rest of the world is going about their business quietly. You’ve heard what it was like, before the Doves came to power. Confusion, conflict, chaos everywhere.” Though I spoke with conviction, I, too, felt a wave of unease as I glanced at Pala. She seemed so…real. So intelligent, almost as much as a Witness. Maybe that was what normal people had been like, before they took the pills. Still, I knew the stories as well as every other Witness. The story of how their organization came to be, and how their actions saved the world. About the Doves and Falcons War, and how the Witnesses came to power. History had been drilled into our brains since we were small children, and I could practically recite my textbook word-for-word.

 

The War of 2045, also known as the Doves and Falcons War, was a conflict over something called abortion- it was the slaughter of babies before they were even born. The Doves were the pro-life, and the Falcons were pro-choice. The entire world was involved in it. There had never been anything like it before, and nearly a quarter of the world's population was killed.

The Doves- named for their peaceful manner and perservation of life- ended up rightfully winning, and seized power. But to appease the remaining Falcons, they deemed that no one could have children; they would all be genetically created, at random. They were still created individuals, who looked and acted different, but they were created to be infertile, and did not involve human mothers, thereby eliminating the problem. Abortion would not exist. The created babies would be randomly assigned to couples who wanted children.

But as the Doves grew more powerful, without an equal political party to balance them, some radical people thought they had too much control. The citizens began rebelling, getting out of hand. Thus, circumstances changed, creating the world we know today. From the time children turn five, they are given an overdose of glutamic acid in their daily 'vitamin', in order to keep them obedient and submissive. However, there needs to be a new generation of Doves, the new leaders. Therefore, the scientists give cognitive tests to all toddlers when they turn four; the most clever and talented are selected, improved surgically to become even more intelligent and skilled. These special children aren't given the glutamic acid. They're trained from the time they are small children to manage the world. They make up less than 0.5% of the population, but they essentially control everything. They- we- are called "Witnesses."   

 

Everyone else, the average humans- or as we Witnesses often call them, Muddles, are taught that the Witnesses are simply created superior through evolution. They are instructed to complete the jobs they are assigned to, and that's all. They are only given the simple, easier careers, the ‘grunt’ jobs- cooking, producing goods, working in factories. All the vital jobs are given to Witnesses who wanted a special task- careers like doctors or scholars, for instance.

 

Unfortunately, there are some people who hide outside of the Doves’ Society; who lived in the wild like savages. These are the people called Naturals. Naturals are born the original way, crude and unhygeinic- the product of a male and a female, not a Petri dish- and were never given the drug, of course. This means that they are capable of thinking for themselves, of causing conflict and trouble. No one quite knew how many Naturals there were, but we never seem to capture them all, despite our efforts.

 

There are also the combatants, the mavericks. The drug with glutamic acid doesn't always work. A small portion of the world, about 1%, resist its effect. Perhaps it is something in their genes, or maybe in their natural personality, but they can fight their way out of it. They often run away to join the Naturals; these are the runaways, commonly called Runners. It fell to us to stop the Naturals and the Runners, to force them to submit to the Society’s ways.

 

It was the right way. It had been that way for over two hundred years, and the system was flawless. The Witnesses were given the right and responsibility to keep the world free from toxins and the people safe from harm and conflict. Though I occasionally felt guilty for being unnecessarily cruel to them, I also knew that they didn’t understand anything else.

 

Still thinking, I came to a stop, pulling Pala off with me. Vin followed, holding Wes’ upper arm firmly in his strong grasp. “I got a dispatch from Professor Taro,” he told me, indicating his armband. “He said to lock them directly in the holding cells, so there was no chance of them escaping, you know.” I nodded, and the four of us- escorted by the other five of their crew- marched to the large outbuilding that held the bomb-proof and bulletproof jail, where all the illegals and their helpers were kept. After passing them off to the Witnesses who stood guard, I gave the prisoners one last look before turning away to follow my friends to the Dining Center.
 

After eating, all seven of us trudged over to the Dorms, where all the Witnesses in their immediate region lived. Viol, Ava, and I, who shared a large room, prepared for bed. I slipped under my covers, prepared neatly by the Muddle women who took care of the housekeeping, and curled up, the events of the day whirling through my head. I fell asleep to a dream of Wes and Cril waltzing around a log cabin, until the walls grew teeth and started to close in on me, opening and closing its jaws. 

 

The next morning, I went alone to check on my prisoners, and was surprised to find only Pala in the cell, arms wrapped around her knees on the bed in the corner, her shoulders heaving with sobs, ignoring the platter of gourmet food set out for her on the single-person table. “Pala!” I called. “What is it? Why are you crying?"
 

The older girl looked up, her expression as wild as a bear’s. “Cry? Cry? Why do I cry? My only relative, my uncle is gone! Uncle Wes! Uncle Wes!” She screeched.

 

I frowned and looked at the guard near the entrance. “Don, is that true? Did they already exterminate Wes?” When the guard nodded, my eyes flashed angrily as I completely forgot about Pala as I stormed out, across the manicured lawn of the Green, and into the Headquarters. I burst into Professor Taro’s office without knocking. “You had no right to dispose of him!” I shrieked, furious. “He was my prisoner! That was under my bailiwick- I can’t believe you didn’t wait for my consent!”

 

The professor gave me a disapproving look, and I immediately shrank into the seat opposite him, lowering my eyes in regret. “I’m sorry, Professor Taro,” I murmured. “Truly, I mean it. I can’t believe I held you in such disrespect.” I looked up at him, and he nodded his forgiveness. “It’s just that I wanted the chance to talk to him before you executed him. I thought it was within my jurisdiction to decide his fate, or at least to have a chance to give my vote.”

 

He laughed, clearly amused. “Mel, Mel, Mel. What element did you grow from?” he teased. “Voting hasn’t been put in practice since the War of 2045; you know that. And I hate to break it to you, but you are still a Lesser Witness. You’re not given the same amount of discretion that a Lord or Lady Witness would. But I have to admit,” he conceded with a grin, “You’re clever, and have more than enough nerve to make up for it.” The professor winked. “Besides, I love you like a daughter. And if it makes you satisfied, I’ll make sure the girl isn’t destroyed until you tell me it’s all right. Happy?”

 

I smiled back. “Deliriously. And Professor? Thank you.”

 

He waved a hand as I left his office. “Not a problem. Anything for the most promising student of the Academy.”
 

Decidedly calmer now, I returned to the holding cells and stood just outside Pala’s room before speaking to her.

 

“The chief of the Tranquility Convention has given me permission to decide your fate,” I told her.

 

The girl threw herself across the room to stare into my eyes, but said only, “What of my uncle?”

 

I met her gaze without flinching. “It’s too late. He’s been exterminated already. As you will be soon, after I’m done questioning you.”

 

Pala shuddered. “Miserere,” she begged for mercy in Latin, perhaps hoping that our connection of language might save her. If so, she was mistaken.

 

I turned and strode out the door without glancing back..

 

 

Author's Note

Contsructive criticism welcome!

Also, what do you think of the character names? Personally, I like most of them, because they're unusual (I actually made some up, others I found in baby books) but short, easy to remember, and pretty easy to pronounce. What do you think?

Finally, title time. Do you prefer the title "The Witness" or "Dove"? I think i"m leaning toward Dove, because it's got symbolic meaning...anyway, give me your thoughts.

Reviews

[Lyndie Bolt aka JustRac..]

I am not thrilled with the name you gave the main character- Mel- or Melrose. Your other characters have kewl unique names. Do the same for her. I've done some rewording changes. You do dialogue very very well! Some suggestions are in italics and parentheses. Good luck,

Lyn

Prologue

I never wanted this to happen.

It was an accident, all of it. I blame myself for ever having the curiosity to uproot my life and break apart everything I knew. That is precisely what I did; if my life were a roll of twine, I unraveled it, strand by strand, separating the parts so that they were so disconnected, they no longer recognized each other for what they were; a match to themselves. Unwinding something is so easy, you see. It takes no effort at all. All you've got to do is initiate one little pull, and everything comes tumbling down in an uncertain tangle of threads, so much weaker than they were as a whole.

But then, I can't say I regret it. Certainly not. I needed to know the truth, didn't I? But should I expose that truth and watch everything unravel not-so-neatly around me? Would I have been able to bear the knowledge that I could be the knots in a desperate weave of lies? Would you, for instance, be satisfied with the idea that those you cared about could be evil? Or would you want to know, despite what it did to your life?

I felt utterly confused. Should I destroy everything I knew, or drop it all and forget? Some people think that the worst conflict is with another person; you may have less control over the outcome, of course, and may even be physically harmed, possibly killed. I know better- a conflict with yourself is like a leech. It sucks out all the life sustaining blood, sucking all the sane thoughts you might possess, replacing it with toxins that lurk in the back in your mind as a poison, waiting to trickle gently, oh, so gently, into the core of your existence.

Undoubtedly by now, you're wondering what choice I made- the truth, or blissful ignorance? I can't simply tell you what my decision was- nor about the ensuing events- for how could you possibly understand it, when you know so little of me? Or of the situation at hand, how deeply complex it was? So I shall have to show you.

Remember the twine? Picture that in mind, now...not unraveled, not yet, but immaculate, new, and unblemished as a lamb, perfect in every way on the outside...but lurking just overhead was a noxious hand, waiting to give the frayed strand the tiniest of tugs.

Chapter One
I think it's best I start at the beginning, don't you? Always a good place to begin, and so aptly named, too. If you'd like, I could dissect the word for it's Latin root, its various meanings...but somehow, I think that might bore you. Sometimes, I become too accustomed to Tal, holding on to my every word like it's a precious emerald that will only last for a second. I forget that everyone else treats me like an average, if abnormal, human. Forgive me.

The next 2 paragraphs should be cut down.

Why am I writing this? First, I must tell my story; this is my first priority. I have to give hope to the Naturals, that they might one day escape the tyranny they suffer under. I have to show the Witnesses that there is more to this world than light and dark, to reveal that there is not just a sun and moon, but also stars, comets, planets, dawn, dusk, twilight, daybreak. But I get ahead of myself. Undoubtedly, as you sit in your bedroom, or academy, or maybe even prison cell, reading my words, you are wondering what in the world of oceans I'm talking about. Have patience with me- remember, this is all new to me, too.

My other purpose is purely selfish. Throughout the course of my eighteen years, I've been alone at various times, with no one to confide in, even when I had no knowledge of this lack. Now, of course, I shall never have to be alone again, but I still have this insatiable desire to tell my story to someone. I'm quite sure you don't want to listen to my voice that long. Much better to read it; trust me on this, all right? As I trust you with my tale.

Do NOT give away an ending!!!!!!
And never fear, for I can swear that there's a happy ending. At least, for me. I'm afraid I can't say the same for the rest of the world in general, but that's a problem I'm working on. Promise.
Drop next paragraph totally.

Now read on, if you're brave enough. If you're the rebel sort like me, who can't resist the opportunity to broaden your perspective as you know it. If you're never quite satisfied with the easy trail, the milder walk of life. So go ahead, satisfy that thirst. I dare you.

I was seventeen when the change began. My life was perfect. There was nothing I could possibly want to alter, but alter it did. Knowing the truth as I do, I can't imagine how I managed to live each day so blissfully, so ignorantly.

It all began to unravel one average afternoon, when my closest friend Viol and I were waiting for our next assignment.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair and re-pinning the strands that had come loose from my long golden braid. "What time's the next training class, Viol?" I asked my friend, seated next to me.

"In half an hour-" Viol was interrupted by two soft chimes emitted from the armbands each of us wore. We groaned together, slid out of our chairs, and raced (why race to something that is more or less dreaded? Doesn't make sense) each other down the stairs to the ground floor.

I made a face before giving a sharp whistle. "I hate these runs," I grumbled, waiting until my notus, a sleek, white disk, flat and just wider than my feet, had flown over to me, hovering a foot above the ground as it waited for me to step up. "The TC only give us the dull assignments. We'll be Lady Witnesses in a fortnight- well, you will be, anyway," I amended, glancing at my friend. "I've still got a month until I turn seventeen. Still, you'd think they could trust us a bit, wouldn't you? We've been going on minor missions like this since we were about twelve, for Doves' sake." TC referred to the Tranquility Convention, the council of experienced Witnesses, who decided what assignments we Lesser Witnesses could take, such as this one. "Come on, Viol," I added with a touch of impatience. "Call your notus, or we'll be left behind the others. Where's our crew?"

Viol gave a whistle, too, and her notus zipped over from the landing banks across the Green; after stepping onto hers, she answered, "I saw Xerc and Ava from the window on our way down, already outside. I don't know where the others are. Probably gone already. Or they haven't left yet."

I rolled my eyes. "Hurry up, then." I stood gracefully, like all Witnesses, even in absolute stillness, primarily balanced on my right foot, which was angled directly forward, with the left one pointed three-quarters back, like a dancer waiting for class to begin. Everyone had their own stance on a notus; Viol, for instance, stood with her weight equal on both feet, which were planted at the extreme opposite ends of the board. Not only was it infinitely more swishy to have your own stance, but, just like a distinctive whistle, it was a way for your notus to identify you. Notus, in order to work most effectively, had to know the rider in order to adjust to the weight, posture, habits, and personal preferences for certain aspects- such as speed or turn-sharpness. You could ride a different one, but it was much more difficult, uncomfortable and dangerous. It was far too easy to fall off with an unexpected movement.

I leaned forward, increasing my speed, as Viol followed behind me. As I rode, I checked my armband, the gadget that had alerted me before. It now displayed a message from the Witness Headquarters. "Location is 45 degrees East, 30 West," I called out as my friend and I wove back and forth, crossing each other's paths in a zigzag. Both of us nudged a small panel in the corner of their notus, and repeated the coordinates to program them to the proper route and destination. After a moment, I narrowed my eyes against the sting of the wind. "I see them," I said finally. "Cril, Rowe, and Vin. Xerc and Ava must already be there."

Finally, both notus slowed, halted simultaneously, then descended to hover a few inches off the ground. Viol and I abandoned them and streaked toward the small domicile, running faster than any gazelle. Cril, Rowe, Vin, Xerc, and Ava were waiting for us at the front. Cril, our lead, stepped forward and pounded on the door. "Open up! Witness search!"

The hinges squeaked open to reveal a man, probably a decade older than us, with a defiant expression. The resisters always looked stubborn. "All right. All right. Come in, then. What've I got to fear from a pack of kids, anyway? I've nothing to hide. Witnesses, at this age- honestly," he muttered, reluctantly allowing us entrance.

The seven of us, four males and three females, entered as silent and stealthy as ghosts. I crept up next to Cril, my movements distinctly feline. I always liked being near the front; the danger, the thrill, was so much greater there. Not that anything is really hazardous to us, of course, I thought, in a rush of pride. All Witnesses, whether at the highest levels of Lord and Lady, or the junior position of Lesser, were extremely cunning. There were very few humans who could present a serious threat to us.

My hazel eyes were bright with alertness as they searched the bedroom. The others had drifted off to other rooms in the domicile, and I was alone, except for the man, who'd followed me in. I searched quickly, yanking open closet doors and shining my violently intense laser light under the bed. There, huddled in a corner, was a young girl, probably my own age or not much older. Her frizzed brown hair was embedded with leaves, twigs, and other telltale signs. "Legitimacy card?" I asked, my voice bored with routine. This girl, shivering, shook her head, her eyes bright with terror. Also called an LC, legitimacy cards were required to be on all persons, marking them as having a legal existence in the Society.

I reached under the bed and pulled the girl out with ease, despite the fact that the latter was slightly larger than me; given my slight form, that wasn't saying much. "Let's go," I snapped. "Witness HQ. Are you a Runner or a Natural?" Runners was slang for 'runaway', and Naturals were those who'd been born outside of the Society. Barbarians, I well knew.

However, at this query, too, the mousy-headed girl shook her head. Irritated by her lack of cooperation, I snatched the girl's wrist and started pulling her downstairs. The man stepped in front of us, his hands together, the way Naturals prayed to their false God. "Please," he implored. "That's my niece. Please, I beg of you! Can't you turn a blind eye? Just this once? I swear, I won't say a word. Please!" All traces of his earlier bravado was gone, and tears began to drip from his dark eyes.

I laughed in the man's face and shook my head, side-stepping towards the door. "I don't think so. What are you, a fool?" I smiled, amused. "Don't you get it? You're coming, too. Housing an illegal is a crime under the Doves' Decree. You're pathetic," I sneered, pushing both of them downstairs. "Cril!" I called. "I have them! Found an illegal, no LC."

The auburn nineteen-year-old, a full Lord Witness for over two years, hurried forward. "Excellent. Natural? Or Runner?"

I shrugged. "No idea. She won't tell me. Doesn't really matter, though, does it? She'll be taken care of, soon enough." Cril and I exchanged grins. One more worthless illegal off the streets.

"But we'll need to find out where she's from. You know the rules, Melrose. She might have information on other illegals. We might be able to trace her back to a big ring of them," he reminded me. Cril's voice softened. "Nice job, though. I just might have to make you my second in command."

I froze, still holding on to my two captives, and whirled to face him. "Are you serious?" I asked him with a gasp. "I'm not even a full Lady Witness yet."

He smiled, touching my shoulder. "No, but that doesn't matter. The TC knows that I'm in charge of our crew. I can appoint whoever I want to be my second. You deserve it, Mel." Our eyes met for a second before I turned away, flustered, though I was smiling, too.

The five others burst in, then. "Found 'em? Swishy!" Xerc crowed, examining the illegal and her uncle. He always irritated me, and we'd never gotten along well. We clashed too much. Both of us liked to be in charge, and we were the wildest of our crew.

"I'll take the hider on my notus," Rowe volunteered, the most willing of any of us. He was the happy-go-lucky type, perpetually in a good mood and eager to help.

The most practical, as always, Viol checked her armband and spoke, "We'd better send the TC a message, and let them know what's going on." She spoke into the small intercom on the band to relay the dispatch back to the Witness Headquarters.

"I'll take the other one," I suggested. "Get on the notus," I commanded the girl, who, for once, was obedient and did as I said. "Let's go."

Flying the way back was rather slower- mine and Rowe's notus had to accommodate for the extra person, and we had to be more cautious- but our group of friends were laughing and talking, buzzing with the excitement that came after a raid. "So what's her name?" Vin asked, glancing at the girl who rode with me. As always, he was anxious to obtain all the necessary information, constantly worried about getting into trouble with the Tranquility Convention.

I laughed. "Relax, Vin. She's not going anywhere. And besides, I'm Professor Taro's favorite student," I told my friend, speaking of the chief of the TC and my personal mentor and guide. "He's not going to get angry with us."

Vin shot me a sheepish, apologetic look. I gave him a half-smile. "Don't worry, we all think about our record sometimes. You won't be discharged- we're all going to make it in. The last time they discharged someone was over a decade ago." The day a Lesser Witness turned seventeen, the TC examined his or her record for possible slip-ups or overlooks before permitting them to become a Lord or Lady Witness. Vin's birthday was a day before Viol's, so his evaluation would be in about two weeks, as well.

"You won't get away with this," the girl hissed in my ear, so only I could hear. Startled, I turned to look behind me at the stranger, having nearly forgotten she was there. It wasn't as though I needed to monitor her, anyway; we were speeding along at nearly fifty miles per hour, twenty-five feet above the earth. The girl would be an idiot to try and jump from that high up, that fast.

"What?" I queried, my voice rising octaves in disbelief. "What did you say?"

The girl's flat black eyes glared sparks at me. "I said, you won't get away with this. You and your friends. I didn't go through purgatory just to be thrust into hell by you. This isn't over." She looked up me. "Deus indulgeo vos, pro ego cannon."

I froze, raising my eyes to the girl's. Was that Latin? I spoke the old dialect- I loved reading, even reading the old books from the pre-Dove era. Some of them were only in Latin, so I'd quickly learned the dead language. But how would a wild Natural or Runner like this captive speak it? Furthermore, how could the girl know that I knew it? Most Witnesses didn't bother learning it, for there wasn't a lot of use for it. And if I wasn't mistaken, the words meant 'May God forgive you, for I cannot.' Either way, something convinced me not to say anything to my crew, to keep this between us. I couldn't believe it, even as I considered the thought- was I actually thinking about talking to this illegal like she was a real person?

"Ego operor non tutela. Vos es non forensis. Nequam. Quis est vestri nomen," I answered sharply; 'I don't care. You're an illegal. Worthless. Now tell me your name,' I had said.

The other girl looked just as stunned as me. "Ego sum Pala," she gave her name. "Et qui ego sum est un malum prohibitum solus. Et non omne quod licet honestum est." Which I quickly translated to, 'And what I am is only a prohibited wrong, not an inherent evil. And not everything that is permitted is honest.'

I was outraged. Was this girl- Pala- actually insulting me? Could she possibly be implying that the Witnesses were not created solely to destroy evil and promote good? I narrowed my eyes. "Nos es numen." I insisted, saying, 'We are the divine power.'

Pala shook her head. "Nihil est--In vita priore ego imperator romanus fui." At that, I had to laugh at the older girl's audacity- it meant, 'That's nothing- in a previous life, I was a Roman emperor."

Pala's expression shifted, more serious. "Vos decipio orbis terrarum," she said. 'You deceive the world.'

"Mundus vult decipi," I corrected her, saying that 'the world wants to be deceived.'

Pala gave a short, barking laugh. "Nulla regula sine exceptione." 'There is no rule without exception.'

I shot her a fierce look. "Me oportet propter praeceptum te nocere," I warned, saying that 'I'm going to have to hurt you on principle.'

The darker girl didn't move on the notus. "Gratiae pro admonitio," she replied. 'Thanks for the warning.' The two of us glided along in the center of the crew silently, each thinking their own thoughts. I couldn't get the other's words out of my head. You deceive the world�there is no rule without exception. I was still in a mild state of shock, that I'd spoken to the illegal like I would to an equal. I'd even warned her, to a certain extent, of what was to be her fate.

Arriving at the headquarters, I banked, stopping the notus, and hopping off, pulling Pala with me. "Let's go," I said, switching to English. "And don't try any ruses. We'll be watching you."

"Melrose!" The chief cried out, rising to his feet as we paused in his doorway out of respect. "I see you've been successful once again." He surveyed the captives. "Whose?"

"Hers!" Cril interjected, giving me a broad smile. "I'm going to make her my second."

Unexpectedly, Professor Taro approved. "Excellent. As she should be. I can't wait until you're a Lady Witness, Mel," he said to me, patting me on a shoulder. I smiled up at him, delighted that he approved of me so fully but slightly embarrassed by all the attention. "Have a seat. Now, what are their names?"

I gave Pala's name, and Rowe said the uncle's name was Wes. Professor Taro was still congratulating us when Pala whispered in my ear, "Ego sum eximius."

I was paralyzed for a nanosecond before I leapt to my feet. "Lockdown!" I shrieked, reaching out lightning-fast, but in trying to seize both, each had slipped out of my grasp and bolted for the door.

The others were still staring at the doorway, not quite understanding, but as the captives escaped, the room sprang into action. "Grab them!" commanded the professor, and my crew quickly obeyed, sprinting after the illegal and her consealer. We called our notus and were soaring after them in seconds.

I leaned now against my notus, the wind stinging my face and singing in my ears. "Where are they?" I cried in frustration, scanning the ground for two people running.

"There!" Xerc called out, pointing ahead�at a pair of notus. I watched them in disbelief. Normal humans didn't have notus. Most couldn't even fly them if their life depended on it- that was a privilege reserved for Witnesses only. They must have a lot of practice, to fly so easily. I shook my head wildly to clear it. Focus on the task, I reminded myself. This was my assignment, my responsibility. I couldn't let them escape. "I'm going to split off," I shouted as I darted past Cril.

"Where are you going?" he yelled at my back, shocked that I was acting without orders from his lead.

I didn't answer, just pressed forward until I was crouched so low that my calves nearly touched my slender upper legs. I broke off from the pack and directed my notus into the trees. I easily dodged the pines, keeping in eye on the runaways ahead of me, just barely visible through the thicket.

The escapees may have notus, but I was born to ride. I urged my notus on to greater speeds until I was riding about thirty yards to the left of Pala and Wes. I made a sharp turn and cut in front of them, directly in Pala's path. This was a risky move, I knew; if they didn't stop in time, they would probably crash into me. At sixty miles an hour, two dozen feet up, no one would come out of it unscathed. A fall would be lethal.

Fortunately for both of us, Pala had good enough reflexes to bank in time, stopping abruptly inches from my notus. "Are�You. Insane?!" the girl managed to gasp out, panting.

I narrowed my eyes and smirked. "Yes. And you're under arrest by the Doves' Decree, under jurisdiction of the Witnesses. I hope you like needles," I added as I activated the handcuff beam so that a ring of light- a deadly, skin-dissolving laser- circled Pala's wrists. I'd have to wait for the others to catch up; I couldn't hold Pala while trying to capture Wes, or they'd both get away again.

Pala's tortured eyes swung to her uncle's. "Go," she ordered. "Leave me. I'll be fine."

Wes shook his head, continuing the conversation as though I wasn't even there. "You heard what she said, Pala. Needles. You know they'll kill you. One injection of sodium pentobarbital and you'll be dead. I won't leave you to that fate- I promised your father." Pala was about to protest, but Vin had already arrived and grabbed Wes' shoulder, activating his own lasercuffs.

Cril flew up to me then. "Nice job," he congratulated me. "Not only did you find the illegal, but you caught her, too. I'll definitely tell the TC about this, Melrose. You're�" he struggled for words before grinning. "You're swishy."

I was startled; the crew's leader rarely used slang-speak or edgy lingo like "swishy". He must be really impressed, though he shouldn't be; it hadn't been very hard to find Pala (nothing like the assignments when the illegals were hidden behind secret panels or passageways. Those took some serious skill to find). Still, I was pleased by his attention.

Viol zoomed up next to me, giving me a knowing smile, but all she said was, "Come on, Mel. Better get back to base."

The entire way back to HQ, I felt a prick at my conscience. How had I allowed them to escape? I should have lasercuffed them from the beginning. Looking back now, I couldn't figure out why I hadn't. I didn't deserve the praise- not Cril's, nor Professor Taro's. In catching Pala, I'd only cleaned up the mess I had allowed to spill.

Ava boarded up to me. "What did she say, right before she escaped?" asked the small redhead, nodding at Pala. "How did you know she was going to run?"

Glancing at Pala as well, I quietly translated. "She said, "I'm the exception'." I explained their earlier Latin conversation, and Ava nodded slowly, biting her lip.

"Do you ever think about�I mean, do you ever wonder if we're doing the right thing? As Witnesses- you know, capturing illegals. Sending them to�to punishment." Ava asked, her brow crinkled with uncertainty.

"Of course we're doing the right thing. Our job is to keep the Runners and Naturals down, and to make sure the rest of the world is going about their business quietly. You've heard what it was like, before the Doves came to power. Confusion, conflict, chaos everywhere." Though I spoke with conviction, I, too, felt a wave of unease as I glanced at Pala. She seemed so�real. So intelligent, almost as much as a Witness. Maybe that was what normal people had been like, before they took the pills. Still, I knew the stories as well as every other Witness. We all knew the story of how the organization came to be, and how their actions saved the world. About the Doves and Falcons War, and how the Witnesses came to power. History had been drilled into our brains since we were small children, and I could practically recite my textbook word-for-word.

The War of 2045, also known as the Doves and Falcons War, was a conflict over something called abortion- it was the slaughter of babies before they were even born. The Doves were the pro-life, and the Falcons were pro-choice. The entire world was involved in it. There had never been anything like it before, and nearly a quarter of the world's population was killed.

The Doves- named for their peaceful manner and preservation of life- (this seems to be a bit incongruous- how did 'peaceful' people win this 'war'?) ended up rightfully winning, and seized power. But to appease the remaining Falcons, they deemed that no one could have children; they would all be genetically created, at random. They were still created individuals, who looked and acted different, but they were created to be infertile, and did not involve human mothers, thereby eliminating the problem. Abortion would not exist because pregnancy did not exist. The lab engineered babies would be randomly assigned to couples who wanted children.

But as the Doves grew more powerful, without an equal political party to balance them, some radical people thought they had too much control. Citizens began rebelling, getting out of hand. Thus, circumstances changed, creating our current world. From the time children turned five, they are given an overdose of glutamic acid (I still do not like the science behind your selection of this non-essential amino acid. I think you would be better served by picking a made up name or something like 5-HTP would fit better see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serotonin ) in their daily 'vitamin', in order to keep them obedient and submissive. However, there needs to be a new generation of Doves, the new leaders. Therefore, the scientists give cognitive tests to all toddlers when they turn four; the most clever and talented are selected, improved surgically to become even more intelligent and skilled. These special children aren't given this 'vitamin'. (Why not put the drug into all water and beverages and give the witness children something to block the uptake of the drug? Then only kids in very rural areas would be less likely to consume the drug. Places like large cities where aggression is more of a problem would get a full 'dose'-way easier to implement) They're trained from the time they are small children to manage the world. They make up less than 0.5% of the population, but they essentially control everything. They- we- are called "Witnesses."

Everyone else, the average humans- or as we Witnesses often call them, Muddles (Sounds too much like Harry Potters "muggles"), are taught that the Witnesses are simply created superior through evolution. They are instructed to complete the jobs they are assigned to, and that's all. They are only given the simple, easier careers, the 'grunt' jobs- cooking, producing goods, working in factories. All the vital jobs are given to Witnesses who want a special task or more taxing careers.

Unfortunately, there are some 'people' who hide outside of the Doves' Society; who lived in the wild like savages. These are the people called Naturals. Naturals are born the original way, crude and unhygienic- the product of a male and a female, not a Petri dish- and were never given the drug, of course. This means that they are capable of thinking for themselves, of causing conflict and trouble. No one quite knew how many Naturals there were, but we never seem to capture them all, despite our efforts. How did the Naturals come to be? You explained that all people were bred to be sterile. Did some people initially resist and escape from the sterilization decree?)

There are also the combatants, the mavericks. The drug doesn't always work. A small portion of the world, about 1%, are able to resist its effect. Perhaps it is something in their genes, or maybe in their natural personality, but they can fight their way out of it. They often run away to join the Naturals; these are the runaways, commonly called Runners. It fell to us to stop the Naturals and the Runners, to force them to submit to the Society's ways.

It was the right way. It had been that way for over two hundred years, and the system was flawless. The Witnesses were given the right and responsibility to keep the world free from toxins and the people safe from harm and conflict. Though I occasionally felt guilty for being unnecessarily cruel to them, I also knew that they didn't understand anything else.

Still thinking, I came to a stop, pulling Pala off with me. Vin followed, holding Wes' upper arm firmly in his strong grasp. "I got a dispatch from Professor Taro," he told me, indicating his armband. "He said to lock them directly in the holding cells, so there was no chance of them escaping, you know." I nodded, and the four of us- escorted by the other five of their crew- marched to the large outbuilding that held the bomb-proof and bulletproof jail, where all the illegals and their helpers were kept. After passing them off to the Witnesses who stood guard, I gave the prisoners one last look before turning away to follow my friends to the Dining Center.

After eating, all seven of us trudged over to the Dorms, where all the Witnesses in their immediate region lived. Viol, Ava, and I, who shared a large room, prepared for bed. I slipped under my covers, prepared neatly by the Muddle (don't like this term-find another that is unique to you and your story) women who took care of the housekeeping, and curled up, the events of the day whirling through my head. I fell asleep to a dream of Wes and Cril waltzing around a log cabin, until the walls grew teeth and started to close in on me, opening and closing its jaws.

The next morning, I went alone to check on my prisoners, and was surprised to find only Pala in the cell, arms wrapped around her knees on the bed in the corner, her shoulders heaving with sobs, ignoring the platter of gourmet food set out for her on the single-person table. "Pala!" I called. "What is it? Why are you crying?"

The older girl looked up, her expression as wild as a bear's. "Cry? Cry? Why do I cry? My only relative, my uncle is gone! Uncle Wes! Uncle Wes!" She screeched.

I frowned and looked at the guard near the entrance. "Don, is that true? Did they already exterminate Wes?" When the guard nodded, my eyes flashed angrily as I completely forgot about Pala as I stormed out, across the manicured lawn of the Green, and into the Headquarters. I burst into Professor Taro's office without knocking. "You had no right to dispose of him!" I shrieked, furious. "He was my prisoner! That was under my bailiwick- I can't believe you didn't wait for my consent!"

The professor gave me a disapproving look, and I immediately shrank into the seat opposite him, lowering my eyes in regret. "I'm sorry, Professor Taro," I murmured. "Truly, I mean it. I can't believe I held you in such disrespect." I looked up at him, and he nodded his forgiveness. "It's just that I wanted the chance to talk to him before you executed him. I thought it was within my jurisdiction to decide his fate, or at least to have a chance to give my vote."

He laughed, clearly amused. "Mel, Mel, Mel. What element did you grow from?" he teased. "Voting hasn't been put in practice since the War of 2045; you know that. And I hate to break it to you, but you are still a Lesser Witness. You're not given the same amount of discretion that a Lord or Lady Witness would. But I have to admit," he conceded with a grin, "You're clever, and have more than enough nerve to make up for it." The professor winked. "Besides, I love you like a daughter. And if it makes you satisfied, I'll make sure the girl isn't destroyed until you tell me it's all right. Happy?"

I smiled back. "Deliriously. And Professor? Thank you."

He waved a hand as I left his office. "Not a problem. Anything for the most promising student of the Academy."

Decidedly calmer now, I returned to the holding cells and stood just outside Pala's room before speaking to her.

"The chief of the Tranquility Convention has given me permission to decide your fate," I told her.

The girl threw herself across the room to stare into my eyes, but said only, "What of my uncle?"

I met her gaze without flinching. "It's too late. He's been exterminated already. As you will be soon, after I'm done questioning you."

Pala shuddered. "Miserere," she begged for mercy in Latin, perhaps hoping that our connection of language might save her. If so, she was mistaken.

I turned and strode out the door without glancing back..

[James Watts]

This is a well written piece. Very nice work.

[Wildecat]

Well young lady this is a wonderful story, I totally enjoyed reading this and look forward to reading more. Nice work.

[daftinklings]

I like all the different machines you've put in. First part...

"In half an hour," Viol replied, interrupted by two soft chimes emitted from the armbands each girl wore. They groaned together and slid out of their chairs and down the stairs to the ground floor, faster than would seem possible for any normal human. Of course, they were Witnesses. They weren't normal.

She was replied, interrupted, It could be..."In half an hour--," Viol was interrupted by two soft...or you could change it into something else. It's just that, the line seems kind of awkward.

Also "... and slid out of their chairs and down the stairs...." well, it makes me think with all the sliding, the imagery seems kind of wrong.

Another was when Pala and Wes were captured, Wes didn't seem to put up much of a fight. For an uncle, he was strangely out-of-the-picture during the flight on the boards. You could give a reason for his strange docility or something.

But apart from all that, it was really good. The story pulled me in. I couldn't stop reading. I absolutely love the latin. Was it really latin? I wouldn't know, but I still love it.

[[untitled]]

I think this is very well written, you are very creative, i like this well written.