Traitor Born (Secondborn #2)(94)

My heart pounds in my ears. I turn to bolt, but I’m caught and restrained by Hawthorne and several other Black-O soldiers. I struggle, but they’re ridiculously strong.

The technician doesn’t miss a beat, ignoring my outburst. “I just need a requisition, and I can take her back to an exam room now. I’m sending you the appropriate files.” His fingers swipe the light of his star-shaped moniker.

Agent Crow uses his moniker to send the requisition. They’re still using the Fates Republic communication system. They must have ways of blocking access by nosy Star-Fated firstborns like Reykin, but for my sake, I hope not.

The technician draws a tranquilizer gun from the holster on his thigh. I kick him in the stomach and try again to get loose, but I’m immediately tackled by the nearest Black-O. He growls in my ear until I exhaust myself and stop struggling, and he hauls me back to my feet. I pant in frustration. Agent Crow leans in, touches my cheek, and smooths my hair away from my eyes. “I’m looking forward to your conversion more than I have with anyone else’s, Roselle. What will it be like when you fall into my arms instead of trying to rip them off?”

I spit in his face. He scowls and pulls a cloth from the pocket of his black leather coat. Methodically, he wipes away my spit. “Hand me the gun.”

The technician places the tranquilizer gun in Agent Crow’s palm. He places it directly over my heart. My eyes defy him, even as the dart penetrates my skin. I jerk at the impact when the needle hits my breastbone. My eyes blur. My ears ring. Everything mutes. A dreamy, faraway feeling sets in.

“Let her go,” Agent Crow orders. It sounds distant.

I’m released. My knees weaken and I almost collapse, but the technician reaches out and catches me, clutching me to him. He smells like lemongrass.

“Opa,” he groans. “It must be too much. You’re such a little thing.”

His deep voice sound so familiar.

“Don’t be deceived,” Agent Crow warns. “She’s a killer.”

“Oh, I know who she is,” the technician says. “Everybody knows Roselle St. Sismode.”

“Her mother expects her conversion to begin as soon as possible,” Agent Crow growls, “so quit the rhetoric. Prep her for conversion and tank her. Alert me the moment she’s ready. I’m leaving the Black-Os to guard her. Don’t let her out of your sight or you’ll regret it.”

Agent Crow leaves, and the technician says nothing. My head lolls on his shoulder. He lifts me in his arms and takes me to an examination room, followed closely by Hawthorne and several other Black-Os.

The technician lays me on an examination table beneath a bright-white spotlight. Beside it is a tall tank filled with briny fluid, like the ones I observed earlier. I drift in and out of awareness, trying not to succumb to the tranquilizer. The technician removes my cuffs. I feel him tug off my clothes and wrestle me into a wet suit. He inserts IVs into my arm. Using a powered sprayer, he coats my exposed skin with something.

Then he takes my hand and lifts it.

His thumb rubs over my palm.

He pauses and lifts my hand higher, inspecting it closely.

He rubs his thumb over the small star again.

“That’s—” He leans over the table, his head blotting out most of the white light above. A halo remains, ringing his aquamarine eyes, which bore into mine. “How did you get this star?”

I recognize the chiseled lines of his face, the way his dark eyebrows slash together. My pulse jumps as he lays a hand on my shoulder and shakes me. “The star is unique to my family crest.” He holds my hand in front of my face. “Seven points—a seven-three prism, with three long points that form a W. And my brother’s initials in relief—mirrored? What is this?”

My lips curl into a dopey smile. “Ransom . . . Winterstrom.” I squeeze his hand. “Reykin is . . . looking . . . for you . . .”



Rebel Born is forthcoming from 47North in 2019.





Glossary

air-barracks. Kidney-shaped dormitory airships that dock on the military Trees in Bases like the Stone Forest. They transport troops and house them.

air elevator. Also known as an air lift, a glass-framed elevator that transports riders to and from the lower building of the Halo Palace to the crown level. The elevator cars travel in open air as well as elevator shafts.

air lift. See air elevator.

The Apiary. An outwardly decrepit-looking military Base on an island near the Fate of Seas. A Census stronghold.

Barleycorn. The high-end restaurant shaped like a spike of barley and located in the Trial Village at the center of the Secondborn Trial training fields.

Black-O. A Census soldier enhanced with advanced military-grade artificial intelligence technology embedded in his or her brain. Each soldier is subject to mind control by programmers and handlers who are often Census agents.

Black-O mode. The state of being a Black-O soldier. It can entail being mind-controlled by a third party or using artificial intelligence to solve problems, follow commands, and complete tasks.

Burton Weapons Manufacturing. A Sword-Fated weapons manufacturing company owned by Sword-Fated Edmund Burton.

Census. A branch of the government comprised of agents whose mission is to hunt down and kill unauthorized thirdborns and their abettors. Their uniform is a white military dress shirt, black trousers, black boots, and a long tailored leather coat. Their Bases are underground beneath the Sword military Trees at Bases like the Stone Forest Base and the Twilight Forest Base.