Chapter One
The emergency alarm would only buy Moragen a few minutes. She’d tripped one on the factory floor, drawing all employees away from the upper levels. And leaving her free to walk around without getting caught.
So, no one saw her slip into the manager’s office. No one saw her sift through the papers in his inbox, searching until she found the write-up with her name at the top, awaiting his signature before it could be put into the system.
Moragen pulled it from the stack, frantically folded it up with trembling hands, and slipped back out into the hall. The form became a weight in her pocket.
She glanced around anxiously as she hurried away from the offices. Finally, she hit the stairs to the factory floor. She took them two at a time and rushed out of the stairwell. Now she was somewhere she had a reason to be. No need to worry…
“Moragen!”
Moragen couldn’t stop herself from yelping in surprise. She whirled around and found one of the supervisors, Kenn, strolling toward her. He didn’t look upset, but sometimes you couldn’t tell until it was too late.
“Uh, yes, sir?” Moragen straightened and tried to mask her anxiety.
Kenn wasn’t even looking at her, she realized. He waved a hand as he passed, gesturing for her to follow. “Emergency meeting with all red, blue, and violet department employees.”
“I was about to start the morning restart procedures on the floor systems—”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s been reassigned to the green department.”
Jaw clenching, Moragen hurried after him.
The other team members had been assembled near the floor’s front office. Moragen’s heart quickened as she slipped into the crowd.
Kenn moved to the front of the group. His voice echoed across the floor as he spoke. “I want to open by saying that we’re grateful you chose Rathcor as a place to work. We appreciate all the hard work you put in during your time here.”
Moragen groaned internally. She’d heard the rumors that layoffs were coming, but she’d hoped that for once she might have just enough luck to stay. She’d kept quiet, done the bare minimum, and hoped that would be enough for her to slip through the cracks.
“Unfortunately,” Kenn continued. “We’ve had a difficult quarter for sales, and we can no longer afford the current staff size. Your departments have been selected for dismissal. Please return your jackets and badges before leaving, and we wish you the best of luck in finding new employment.”
Kenn turned and walked toward the stairs to the offices, ignoring the outraged protests and grumbling from the employees. Most, though, didn’t see the point in arguing. While the other employees lined up by the office to wait their turn, Moragen ran after the supervisor.
“Kenn, wait!”
Kenn’s sigh was heavy and dramatic, perhaps intended to deter Moragen from whatever desperate plea she planned to make.
Moragent tried anyway. “Is there any possibility of being transferred into one of the other departments? I know a few people quit last week—”
“Moragen, even if your department hadn’t been cut, you were about to be fired anyway,” Kenn cut her off as he turned to face her. “In fact, your lucky yours was picked. Now you get a release on your record instead of a termination for lying on your employment application.” He raised an eyebrow and added, “And that write-up won’t go through.”
Moragen’s face heated at the reminder of the write-up. Her pocket felt even heavier.
“Turn your jacket and badge in to the front office,” Kenn continued. “And…good luck out there.”
This time, Moragen didn’t stop Kenn from stalking away. With a huff, she whirled to face the eavesdropper that had been hovering at the corner of her vision.
“I knew you didn’t belong here,” Katrin hissed. “You kept the supervisors from noticing all your mistakes, but I did.”
Moragen rolled her eyes, though Katrin wasn’t wrong. She’d claimed to be close to graduating from her education program when she interviewed. Truth was, she was failing her classes and had dropped out the following week. But her proof of enrollment at the time had been enough to get her the job.
“And what’s it to you?” Moragen shot back.
Katrin folded her arms. Short, straight blonde hair fell to her shoulders, a healthy shine to it even under the factory’s awful fluorescent lights. “You think it’s fair that you get to scam your way into a job other people actually qualify for?”
“I don’t have time for this.” Moragen stormed past Katrin. To her relief, the girl didn’t pursue her or even call any other insults after her.
Well, she’s not wrong. You are a fraud.
Moragen stormed past the office, still wearing her jacket, badge still tucked into her pocket. The least they could do was let her keep a couple of souvenirs.
She hesitated at the front door as the wailing sirens reached her ears. The sound echoed through the street, but they didn’t induce panic. These weren’t the emergency alerts. The city wasn’t under attack.
These were the sirens announcing that another round of Games were starting.
A bus on the route that would take Moragen home sat at the stop in front of the factory, still letting passengers board. Making her decision on impulse, Moragen darted further down the street to another stop, to the bus just pulling up. To the bus that would take her to the arena at the heart of Ratheme.
Moragen joined the crowd and, after admittedly edging past a few people who’d gotten there first, made her way into the bus. The inside was already pretty packed, but not all of the seats had been taken. She wouldn’t have to stand the entire ride to the arena.
As Moragen settled into a seat at the back of the bus, she watched one notable passenger slip on, seemingly in a hurry. The sight sent a jolt through her. The startlingly tall man had a face she’d seen before, lurking around her class buildings before she’d been kicked out of school, and then later at the factory. Looking for her.
Tall Guy was currently busy talking to the bus driver—maybe asking about the route—but chances were high that he’d seen her get onto the bus. She was likely the reason he was here.
Moragen glanced to her right, where a man snored. A cap sat on his head, advertising the logo of a factory a few blocks over. Past him, in the seats on the other side of the aisle, she found someone more promising.
She rose to her feet, snatched the man’s hat, and darted across the aisle to a woman whose long waves of black hair closely resembled Moragen’s. Moragen dropped to one knee and pulled all the cash she had on her out of her pockets. Twenty-six rathos. That was something, right?
“Excuse me,” Moragen said, catching the woman’s attention with a wave of the money. “I have a weird request. Would you be willing to take my jacket and get off the bus?” The next bus on this route should only be ten minutes away, at most.
The woman glanced at the ratho bills with a raised eyebrow. “Sure, I guess I can do that.”
Moragen quickly shrugged off the jacket with the factory’s name printed on the back and handed it over alongside the money. The two traded places. Moragen pulled her hair up and shoved as much as she could under the hat.
As the woman reached the exit, Moragen coughed loudly and ducked her head, leaving it angled up just enough for her to still see the front of the bus.
Tall Guy glanced back. His eyes traced the path of the woman as she slipped out the back door. He squeezed past the last couple of boarding passengers and darted back out onto the sidewalk. The doors closed with a hiss.
A dozen stops and thirty minutes later, the bus was rolling up in front of the Hive Recruitment Arena. Most of the passengers poured out here. Moragen let the crowd sweep her up the walkway to the ticket station.
As she neared the front of the line, she glanced toward another set of doors further down the building. The audition entrance. Posters everywhere reminded potential recruits how easy it was to sign up and try out. No experience needed. If you had a body, you qualified.
“Just one for you?” A loud voice called to Moragen. The cashier. It was her turn.
Moragen shook her head clear and stepped up to the window. “Yeah, one ticket, please.”
“What section?” the man asked.
“Whatever’s cheapest.”
The cashier pressed a few buttons, then said, “Twelve rathos.”
Moragen winced internally as she tapped her credit disk to pay for her ticket. The balance on that one was dangerously close to the limit.
The transaction went through, though, and the man handed Moragen her ticket. She hurried into the stadium with the sweeping crowd.
There were more people in the audience than she’d expected for this early on a Friday. She vaguely remembered coming a few times on school trips when she was younger, but she couldn’t recall if it had been this crowded. Saturdays were likely worse, if she had to guess—and those were the only two days of the week they ran games.
A glass dome covered the arena, letting the games continue in inclement weather, but for whatever reason the government had decided against completely boxing them in.
It took Moragen a few minutes to get to her seat. Her view wasn’t great, but the massive screens around the arena would let everyone see what was happening without much trouble. As she settled onto the metal bench, the announcer declared that another round was about to start. Two teams pitted against each other. Two captains running their personal hiveminds, guiding each member of their team simultaneously through obstacles and fights with other competing soldiers.
While they prepped for the next round, the arena screens switched to showing recruitment ads for the Ratheme Hive. Join a mind. Be a part of something bigger than yourself. Get paid while you defend the city from the Nemerites.
Moragen stared at the footage of people—some in their twenties, some in their late teens, as young as her—wielding guns with blank expressions. That was who they were targeting, after all. People like her who couldn’t find jobs that paid enough to live on their own. People still in debt to education programs. And it’s not as if it were hard work, if you were just a soldier. The captains controlled you in the fights. All you had to do was show up and get paid.
She hated how tempting it sounded.
The idea stewed in the back of her mind as she watched soldiers run obstacle courses, dodge balls, race each other and try to shoot each other with guns that fired harmless beams of light.
She stayed for about an hour before climbing to her feet and heading for the exit. Would she tell her parents tonight she was fired? Or try to put it off a few more days while she looked for new work?
At the exit, a table held stacks of more flyers advertising how easy it was to sign up for the games. How easy it was to get recruited.
Moragen grabbed one of the flyers off the table.
It would get her out of the city. They would take her regardless of her past failures. She could save her pay while staying in their free housing, eating the provided food. And stall the man following her for a while longer.
The flyer went into her pocket as she left the arena.