Steven Santos - The Culling

There’s not a part of me that doesn’t hurt, both inside and out, including the parts of me that he’s touched. I drop my gaze to the broken urn and the scattered ashes.

Cassius clears his throat and raises his hand to silence the crowd’s stirring. “I apologize to all of you who had to witness that. But it will help you to understand the dynamic that sets these Trials apart from any others we’ve ever held.” He holds a hand out, indicating Digory. “Here we have one Recruit, who aside from his husband, has no other discernible family or close friends our research was able to discover. Of course, as in rare cases such as this, Tycho could be assigned an orphan as one of his other Recruits. But … ” He points to me now. “Here we have another Recruit, who through no fault of his own has lost one of his Incentives before the Trials have even begun.” He shakes his head. “What to do?” A smile flashes across his face. “Observe.”

3-D holograms appear throughout the chamber, the largest of which towers right behind Cassius on the dais, all projecting the identical images.

Digory and me.

It’s footage of us on the Observation Tower, sitting on the railing, gazing at the stars.

I wonder what it would be like, Lucian, to love someone so totally, so … you know, so powerfully, that even the stars can’t contain themselves from proclaiming that love for everyone to see. Digory’s voice blares through the audio system.

The image switches to the raft during our first Sim exercise, me slung over Digory’s body, both of us half-naked, me whispering into his ear.

Listen to me, Digory. You’re going to be okay. I promise.

Other images flash by in quick succession-Digory defying Slade and standing up for me when we first arrived at Infiernos … him feeding me breakfast at the mess hall during our first day of training …

The images fade into our moment earlier tonight. Digory and me on the terrace, his head nuzzled against my neck.

Let’s just have this one moment, just you and me, no one else … one moment where we don’t talk about any of that … where none of it exists … where we can pretend tomorrow is a lifetime away …

Footage of us dancing, swirling in each other’s arms …

All the holograms fade. The lights come up.

The crowd is silent. And then the murmuring begins.

“May I have your attention, please.” Cassius calls out above the clamor. The muttering fades. “As you can see, Digory Tycho has demonstrated strong emotional ties toward Lucian Spark. All of you witnessed yourselves his concern for Spark just a moment ago, casting protocol aside to try and protect him despite the fact that he’s already married to another. And Lucian Spark, likewise, has strong feelings for Digory Tycho, stronger than any other living person other than his own brother, now that his poor unfortunate surrogate mother is no longer with us.”

The audience begins buzzing again. Cassius allows it to continue for a moment before raising a finger. A hush falls through the hall. “So, for the first time ever, two of the Recruits shall also serve as each other’s Incentives. Both their lives now hinge on each other’s progress during the Trials. Should one falter, he will have to choose between his competitor’s life and the life of his regular Incentive. Note that if he chooses his competitor, this decision will also have repercussions on his competitor’s regular Incentive. Without anyone to fight for him, that Incentive’s life will be forfeit as well.” Cassius nods. “As of tomorrow morning, you will be witnesses to one of the most interesting Trials ever, where the question of self-indulgent love versus love of country will take on an even more significant meaning. Let the Trials begin!”

The applause swells into a thunderstorm.

“No! You can’t do this!” I shout over the roar.

“Lucian!” Digory calls. The Imps are already hauling him off stage.

Cassius signals the Imposers and they drag me past him. “I’ll kill you for this,” I hiss at him.

Soldiers point at me, some laughing, others waving their fists, as I’m towed by, down the aisle and out of the hall.

I guess I gave them their little scene after all.

I’ve spent the entire sleepless night locked in solitary, thanks to my outburst at the Graduation Ceremony. Flight risk or suicide watch? Not that the outcome of either would be any different.

It’s the first time at Infiernos that I’ve craved the sagging mattress of my bunk, back at the barracks. I don’t know how many hours I’ve done nothing but stare into the suffocating darkness, wondering when the night will end-and dreading the moment when it will.

My cell door wooshes open.

Captain Valerian, the female Imp I haven’t seen much of since she sicced the Canid on the kid in the alley, stands there, weapon aimed at me.

“It’s time, Recruit.” She tosses a bundle at my feet.

Black combat fatigues and boots.

This is it. The moment that everything’s led to, ever since my ill-fated reunion with Cassius on Recruitment Day. The point at which all of our fates converge, for better or worse-Digory’s, Cypress’s, Gideon’s, Ophelia’s, mine, and those of everyone we love. For months I’ve forged new friendships, only to have to tear those bonds apart now for Cole’s sake.

I tear off my formal wear, still smudged with Mrs. Bledsoe’s ashes, and slip into my new skin. Without waiting for a verbal prompt or the butt of Valerian’s weapon, I take a deep breath and stride past her. Styles and Renquist are waiting out in the barren steel hallway.

“This way,” Renquist grunts.

I march down the corridor after them, toward a bright opening on the far end. An elevator, by the looks of it. Gritting my teeth, I step in, past two more Imps flanking the doors.

The others are already waiting inside. Digory tries to make eye contact, but I drop my gaze. I can’t. Not now. Instead I concentrate on the others. But none of them seem to notice me. While they all look a little more kempt in their identical combat fatigues than I’m sure I do, the one thing they all share in common is the look of dread splattered across their faces.

The elevator doors slam shut.

It’s difficult to swallow as the car plunges. I almost reach out and grab Digory’s arm to steady myself, but catch myself at the last second, opting for one of the handrails against the wall.

The floor vibrates with the speed of our descent.

Welcome Recruits!

Sergeant Slade’s voice startles me, seeming to come from every direction.

Congratulations on being inducted and honored with the opportunity to join the Imposer Task Force.

Honored?

The Trials will take place on the lowest level of Infiernos, in a facility known as the Skein, an intricate series of connected corridors and doorways, each leading you to one of the challenges you will face.

My body tightens with a surge of claustrophobia.

At the completion of each mission, the Recruit who places last will make his or her selection during the Culling. You will all then be given variable rest periods at one of the holding stations before you proceed along the accessways to the next Trial, and so on and so forth until the final mission.

Yeah … we move on after effectively murdering one of our own …

Once both of your Incentives have expired, you will be eliminated from consideration and immediately shipped off to the work camps in the western provinces until your services are no longer required.