Justin didn’t say anything more about plebeians and patricians, but as they moved forward, he whispered to Tessa, “Pay attention to the screen. You can learn a lot about a person.”
She didn’t know what he meant until they reached the customs agent. Mae immediately set her hand, palm down, on a rectangular glass box. Beside the agent, a large screen suddenly flared to life. There was a head shot of Mae staring straight ahead, with a cool and calm look in her eyes. Beside the picture, in large letters, was her name: Koskinen, Mae Eris. Underneath it, in smaller print, was: Koskinen, Maj Erja (Nordic Patriarchy). Other lines of info detailed Mae’s citizenship, profession, address, age, and more. Tessa couldn’t quite follow it all. There was also a section for general notes. Hers read: Authorization to carry arms.
The agent looked surprised at what popped up and shot her a quick, nervous look. He had a smaller screen in front of him that they couldn’t see, which he began to tap notes on. After a few more seconds, the agent looked back up at Mae. “Do you have weapons to declare?”
Mae removed a gun from her purse and laid it on a nearby table. Then she took out a smaller gun that had been at her waist, hidden by the knee-length jacket she’d put on in the plane. Lastly, she pulled out a knife from her boot.
“Really?” asked Justin. “Who keeps a knife in their boot?”
“No one ever expects the knife,” she said.
The table had a glass cover shielding it. The agent flipped a switch, and a light came on for a few seconds. He nodded and told Mae she could take the weapons back. He started to wave her through, but she said, “I have visas for them.”
Justin rested his hand on the scanner, and once more, it filled with a flood of data. The first thing Tessa saw was that his citizenship space read: None. She also saw something she hadn’t paid attention to on Mae’s, a field marked “Genetic Resistance.” The number nine was filled in beside it. Perhaps the most striking part of his screen was the notes section, which was written in flashing red letters: No authorization to enter RUNA territories. Detain immediately and contact authorities.
“Some homecoming,” he said.
The agent looked as though he was indeed about to call authorities, and Mae quickly handed over her ego, that device that Justin had been enthralled with on the trip here. The agent ran the ego over the palm scanner, and a shimmering, holographic image of the RUNA’s seal appeared briefly in the air. A few seconds later, the red-lettered warning went away, replaced by a much more subdued Provisional Visa, Ministry of Internal Security. The agent scanned Justin’s small bag and then cleared him for entry.
When Mae showed him Tessa’s documentation, the agent issued her a thin, plastic card and told her to keep it until she was chipped. It displayed the RUNA’s seal shining on the surface, along with her name, citizenship, a long string of numbers, and Provisional Visa, Student.
“One more scan,” Justin told Tessa once the agent waved them on.
“It’s not easy getting in,” she said, starting to feel dazed again.
“No,” he agreed. “A lot easier getting out.”
They crossed that last checkpoint and finally entered the airport’s crowded lobby. There were no lines here. People moved in every direction, all going their own ways. A wall of glass doors shone before them, lit by the early-evening sun. Hanging over them was the RUNA’s flag, half maroon and half dark purple, with a golden circle of laurel leaves in the center. Written under the circle, also in gold, was Gemma mundi. The jewel of the world. The motto that had eventually given name to its citizens, the Gemmans.
Tessa felt Justin come to a halt beside her. His eyes were fixed on the flag, his expression reminding her of when their plane had descended into the city. She saw that ache and longing again—and more. There was joy in his eyes. And relief. And awe. And disbelief.
Until this moment, he never actually thought he’d make it back, she thought.
Mae had stopped as well and watched as Justin gazed at the flag. For the first time today, Mae didn’t regard him with exasperation. There was a softness in her expression, something fleetingly affectionate, that took Tessa totally by surprise.
“Welcome home,” Mae said.
CHAPTER 8
NOT COOL
He didn’t believe in Huan’s hell, but as Justin stepped into the RUNA, he could almost believe in a heaven.
It was everything he remembered. Bright. Orderly. Efficient. Clean. And advanced. No armed thugs or dilapidated buildings. The lack in provincial technology had always been apparent in his exile, but it didn’t really hit him until he was surrounded by modernity again. The chip readers. The monitors. The egos. Here was the world as it should be, the country that had survived the Decline to emerge more brilliantly than it had started. His homeland. Where he belonged.
Stop drooling, snapped Horatio. The girl’s going to pass out.