Chatterbox: Inkwell

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<Kryaila Amberstone>

I look down in astonishment.
“Merlia,” I hiss. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Relax, Kry. You know I know what
I’m doing.”

Irritated, I bite my lip to keep
from answering. Merl can be so
annoying when she wants to be!

I reach into my sidepouch and pull
out a small tool. It glints in the moonlight-cold and ruthless steel.

My own sji.

Holding the ladder with one hand, I
lean out and hold up the tiny cylinder. I slowly move it in a wide arc,
stopping every few seconds to check for RR’s like the CIP (Children’s
Intelligence Program) taught me to.

Finally, a reading. The miniscule
screen glows red and I hold it to my ear. I listen.

“Merl,” I whisper, “I have the
instructions.”

She smiles. “All set with the maki.”

“Let’s do this thing.”

We ascend the ladder rung by rung.
I think about when I first met one of Them.

I had been young –
only seven or so. I had been orphaned at a young age – two, perhaps? I was
living on my own, foraging for scraps of food from Dumpsters if I was on the
run. Which I often was.

One particularly
bad day I had simply given up. Left myself on the edge of the road to die.

I had been foolish.

Then a lone car
pulled up next to me. ”We’ve been watching you,” a man in shades informed my
starving self. “Would you like something to eat?”

Never having been
taught to never go with strangers, I eagerly accepted the offer.

They brought me to
a rundown shack. I was too dumb and tired to notice the electric sensors, or
the security card system, or the superfast elevator. I simply wanted food.

They had trained and
raised me. And recently I, having beaten out Harving for Leader Position, I had
received my very first mission.

So here I was,
clinging to a ladder on the side of a mansion, preparing to dissect the
electricity unit of the White House.