Jane 23 ran.
She didn’t look back, but she could hear the something running, too, making bad wrong sounds as it chased her. She ran fast, fast as she could, fast as she was never allowed to run during exercise time. She had to keep running. She had to. She didn’t know why, but her body knew it, and whatever that something chasing her was, it wasn’t good.
Another something appeared, and it ran at her, too, knocking down some scrap as it went. She ran harder, not caring about the cold air, not caring about the Mothers, not even caring about Jane 64. Run. That was all she could do and think. Run run run.
Her chest hurt. Her shoes rubbed at her toes wrong. The somethings were getting closer. She could hear them, so loud. Their mouths sounded wet.
There was another sound: a voice, coming from up ahead. But it was a weird voice, all wrong around the edges, not making any sense, not making any good words. Just a bunch of junk sounds.
She felt some spit hit the back of her leg.
The voice changed. ‘Hey! This way! Come toward me!’
There was no time for questions. Jane 23 ran at the voice.
A machine stuck out from one of the scrap piles, a huge machine with thick sides and – and a door. An open door leading into it. Two red lights blinked from the corners of the raised hatch.
‘You can do it!’ the voice said from behind the door. ‘Come on, hurry!’
Jane 23 scrambled up the scrap pile, sharp pieces catching her clothes and tearing her hands. With a yell, she threw herself inside the machine.
The hatch banged shut behind her.
One of the somethings crashed into the other side of it with a real loud sound, but the door didn’t move. She heard angry angry noises, and scratching at the outside. The door stayed closed.
‘Be still,’ the voice said in a whisper. ‘They’ll go away.’
And after a little bit, they did.
‘Oh, stars,’ the voice said. ‘Oh, stars, I’m so glad. Are you all right? Here, let me turn on some lights.’
Lights flickered on. Jane 23 picked herself up off the floor. She was in a tiny room, or a closet, maybe. Four metal walls, standing real close.
The voice talked fast. ‘You’re probably covered with germs. I don’t have enough power for a scan, or a flash – later. We can clean you up later. It’s protocol to scan you, yes, but this counts as a dire emergency, and that means I don’t have to follow that rule. Come inside. It’s okay.’
One of the walls turned into a door. Jane didn’t move.
‘There’s no one in here but me,’ the voice said. ‘And I can’t hurt you.’
Jane didn’t know what else to do, so she listened. She moved. She walked into another, bigger room – much, much smaller than the sorting room or the dorm, but too much space for just one girl. There were interface panels and places to sit, and some kind of small workstation. A workstation. A workstation in a room inside a machine, outside of the factory.
None of this made any sense.
Jane 23 tried to breathe, taking in big mouthfuls of air. She was crying. She wasn’t sure when the crying had started, and it scared her, because crying meant she’d be punished, but she couldn’t stop. Even if there’d been a Mother there, she wouldn’t have been able to stop.
‘It’s okay,’ the voice said. ‘You’re okay now, honey. They can’t get in here.’
‘Who are you?’ said Jane 23. Her voice felt strange, like it wouldn’t stay still. ‘Where – where are you?’
‘Oh, oh, I’m so sorry. Let me put a face on. Here. Over here. To your right.’
A screen lit up on one of the walls. Jane 23 walked over, real careful. A picture came up. A face. Not a girl’s face, though – well, okay, kind of a girl, but not a girl like she was used to. An older girl, even older than the girls who left when they turned twelve. The face had stuff sticking out of the top of her head, and a little bit over each eye, too. The picture wasn’t a real girl. It was more like a vid. But the face was smiling, and that made Jane feel a little okay.
‘Hi,’ the voice said. The picture on the wall moved her lips along with the words. ‘I’m Owl.’
SIDRA