Drafted Read online

  "It's going to work," I said, thinking of those sad mushrooms. My stomach still growled. It might cramp before the next meal, which was sure to be just as pathetic.

  But being hungry was better than becoming something that I couldn't recognize.

  Matt said nothing. We continued to walk down the corridor.

  "You're going to show me these plans," I said. "I'm going back home. I don't care what I have to do to participate."

  "You're an angry person," Matt said.

  "Ever had your home ripped from you twice?"

  "Just once." Matt faced me. "Don't you mean that you got ripped from your home?"

  "You get it." At least Matt had a bit of humor. He seemed to be the only one in this colony who did. "I'm going with you tomorrow."

  Matt smiled. "You remind me of Earth, where people still have personalities."

  We walked past large double doors that were anything but inviting. Someone had painted letters on them. We passed P and Q. A little kid cried behind the Q doors.

  "Well, doing nothing but surviving does that," Matt said. "My dad has better quarters than this. We were some of the first people to get drafted. Once we get to N, I'll show you the plans."

  I wondered if this was Matt's apology for causing my parents to send me away. At least he didn't share their attitude. I'd take it. Things were starting to go a little better between us.

  "That sounds great," I said. I grabbed onto hope, following Matt further down the corridor and to a set of double doors marked with a W. Someone had painted it on with angry brush strokes and slashes. It looked more like red claw marks than anything else.

  "Ready?" Matt asked, hands on the door.

  I nodded.

  He pulled a door open into what looked like an old warehouse with high ceilings, ugly lights, and crates.

  "This is a storeroom," I said. But then the dread hit me. People sat on open boxes, most green like the others. Small groups stood around, socializing. No one laughed.

  People lived here.

  And now I had to as well.

  I took a breath. The room must be the size of my entire school, but it housed hundreds. The chatter inside filled the air. Tablets glowed.

  "The Grounders keep sending people," Matt said. "They don't care about the conditions here. They want all of us to be in these colonies eventually."

  I thought of the billions still on Earth. "Mars can't support all of us," I said.

  "Exactly," Matt said, serious again. "Find a place. I'll come back and get you before the rail leaves tomorrow morning. I have to go sit in the sun."

  His words were the only thing that kept me from screaming.

  Matt turned and walked down the corridor, leaving me alone. I wanted to follow him, but what good would that do? I would need sleep before heading out, especially if the food was in such short supply. I didn't want to think about the implications of his words and the Grounders' plans.

  So I stepped into the living quarters. I had expected a plain cot, maybe one in a row of other cots, but not this. I scanned the room and found only a bathroom facility on the far side of the room, and there was a line for the door. I felt as if I had stepped into a convention, just without the fun.

  I drew stares from two old men sitting together in a sideways crate, playing a game on tablets. It seemed that tablets were the only form of entertainment here, the only thing keeping people sane. A group of girls a bit younger than me, all green and wearing worn clothing that must have seen daily washes, stopped gossiping. I stuck out here. I was the minority. Already, I wanted to hide. I guessed that non-green people were probably about two percent of the population. We were the holdouts. The ones who still knew where our home was or the ones who hadn't gotten tricked.

  I didn't belong here.

  I had to hide. Matt would find me after he was done basking in the sun.

  The more I walked through the warehouse, past stacks of boxes where people perched, past the bathroom facility where heads turned, the faster I stepped. Blankets and sleeping bags filled crates. Hadn't the receptionist guy said something about there being possible space here? W was far down on the alphabet. I imagined they had filled the earlier letters first and were running out. But, as I neared the back of the room, I found several empty crates in a row. Each one had a rolled sleeping bag inside. It was quieter in this part of the warehouse as if people knew to reserve space for newcomers.

  By then, I didn't care that I would be sleeping in a box. The back of my neck prickled from the stares and the silence.

  So I dove in, hating that the side of the crate was open. There was no privacy here, even though I faced the wall and the concrete floor. It was cold. I had only space to stretch out and sleep.

  I had better do it now before it got dark in this place.

  The thought of darkness here terrified me.

  The bulldozers had come in the darkness. I had never been able to relax at night since I was eight years old.

  I might never do that again.

  But I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the growling in my stomach and the creeping cold.

  Chapter Nine

  My family ran through the night.

  The bulldozers had already been here. The lettuce plants lay crushed and shattered. Some of their leaves stuck to my shoes. I held my parents' hands. They had to run slower to let me keep up.

  Other families fled, too. They were dark shadows in the night. More machines growled behind us. Loud cracking and snapping noises followed. I wanted to cover my ears, but it was no use. Horses whinnied in panic. We were leaving them behind. I thought of Ernest and Snowy and the others, waiting for the bulldozers to reach them.

  I dared to look behind as I had so many times before. But instead of the bulldozers, tripods towered over our homes, shooting heat rays. Lines of fire erupted from rooftops. Smoke rose into the night sky. The flames cast a demonic glow over the landscape while people screamed.

  "You are not Earthers," a man said.

  My parents stopped, forcing me to do the same while the alien machines continued to ravage the land.

  The black-robed Great Council member stood there, a man with white-blond hair with his arms folded across his chest. He gave us a single nod. He was very tall, almost skeletal as if something had sucked his life away. He looked like an emotionless Grim Reaper.

  But this time, I knew that a Grounder stood before us.

  "Yes, we are," my mother said. "What gives you the right to take away our home?" Even now, she spoke with confidence and grace.

  "You are not Earthers," he repeated in a flat voice. He gazed at our burning houses. "You are pests."

  "We are not!" I shouted. I pulled against Mom and Dad, but they wouldn't release my hands. I wanted to hit this guy.

  The man walked up to me and leaned down. I stared right into his lifeless eyes.

  He had never done that before.

  "You are pests," he repeated. Then he stood and faced someone behind us. "Take this girl away."

  I turned my head.

  Scores of green people, all in black and gray uniforms, emerged from the semi-dark as the world burned. Choking smoke filled the air. I coughed, and I tried to pull away from Mom and Dad, but they held me in place.

  "No!" I screamed.

  I thrashed and opened my eyes. I tossed the black sleeping bag off me and sat up in the crate, bumping my head in the process. The plain gray wall of the warehouse stretched out in front of me.

  I took a breath of the chilled air and let it out. I hated the memory of our eviction. It still visited when I slept, complete with that Great Council guy calling us pests to my face. He still taunted me even after all these years. I never even found out his name or which province he represented. By now, he might not even be alive.

  His emotionless voice made me hate the Grounders more.

  I lay back down and curled up into a ball.

  They had kicked me from Earth like a pest. Right then, curled up in that crate on a dead plane
t, I felt like one.

  Small.

  Alone.

  Nothing.

  Something struck my crate. I jumped like a scared animal, hitting my head again. I was failing on every level.

  "Hello?" a guy asked.

  The tone of his voice warned that he was trouble. I didn't have to wait to see my harasser. He leaned down and peeked into my crate, green as the Wicked Witch of the West. He even had a pointed nose like her and messy black hair.

  It was the guy from the glass dome. The one who had glared at me.

  "What do you want?" I asked, putting on my strong face. It felt like a flimsy mask that could fall away at any moment. Outside my crate, people spoke in low voices, continuing their conversations. I had the sense that no one was going to come to my rescue.

  "So we have an Earther," he said.

  "Are you one of those Mars Identity people?" I asked. Mom and Dad had told me how to deal with bullies. Acting afraid was the worst thing I could do right now. Earthers didn't back down.

  Except for that one time, we had. This guy reminded me of the hooded Great Council member, standing there and watching our homes burn. Anger pulsed through me.

  The guy glowered at me. "We don't like Earthers here."

  "Why?" I asked. "Because it's great on this rock?"

  The guy backed away, not to leave me alone, but to let his friend join the party. The girl who had been sitting with him ducked her face into my private space. They were violating my area. Even though I had more muscle than either one of them, the guy was bigger, and I had the feeling that if a fight broke out, I'd get seriously hurt. I had never dealt with anything like this on Earth before.

  "You're deluded," the girl said. She reached in and grabbed my arm. "People like you are the reason we can't build up our planet."

  I wrenched my arm from her grasp. I still had my physical fitness on my side, even though my stomach cramped with hunger. I was already a pest to the Grounders, something to be swept aside. I wasn't about to be stupid and deluded, too.

  "Personally, I think the Grounders are at fault," I said. "They should stop sending people when the colonies can't handle it." If anyone was deluded, it was these people.

  Intelligence didn't rule here. The girl took my arm and pulled. She had a Mars Identity patch, all right, and so did the guy.

  I got out of the crate and stood, mostly because I was ticked off. I held back from punching the girl. I didn't know if there was punishment for assault. Even though I tried not to, I stole a glance around the room to see if anyone was paying attention. Nope. A small group of young people played a game of cards on the floor. Two old women sat in folding chairs and ignored us. I was on my own.

  The man caught me looking. "Are you looking for your boyfriend?" he asked.

  "He's not my boyfriend," I said. "What do you want me for?"

  "You're not an Earther," the guy said. "Take off that patch. Join reality."

  "No." It was all I had left. He sounded so much like the Grounder who had taunted my family. I wanted to scream. It was as if my nightmares had blended with reality and I couldn't tell them apart anymore.

  The guy fished in his pocket for a pair of scissors. He handed them to me, smiling. "Patch. Off."

  "Does it offend you?" I asked, forcing a smile. "I'll keep it on, then. Or does it remind you that you gave up fighting and let the Grounders send you here?"

  I hit a raw nerve. The young woman raised her arm. I didn't have time to brace for the blow. She swung, hitting me on the cheek with her bony knuckles. The world faded as pain exploded across my face. Even for someone with atrophied muscles, she hit hard, as if she made a career of harassing newcomers like me.

  Holding in a cry, I dared to face her. Spots flared in my vision. I wanted to say something crushing, but I had the sense that I already had. What was wrong with these people? They were just like Dr. Komorowski.

  "Listen," the guy said. "You're denying--"

  "Leave her alone, Marv."

  Matt stood on the side of the nearby crate. He glared at Marv and the young woman with more intensity than I thought he could manage. I was shocked. He hadn't even done this in the medical bay.

  The woman backed away. These two were afraid of Matt.

  "When are you going to stop defending Earthers?" Marv asked. "You, of all people."

  I wanted to step away from these people. My face throbbed, but at least I could breathe now. The blow would leave a bruise and maybe a headache.

  I would take the beating over removing my patch.

  "She has a good cause," Matt said. "We deserve to be able to live on Earth. We've spent billions of years there, fitting in."

  The guy shook his head. What were they arguing about, anyway? Why did they even have to argue?

  "That's right," I said. "We're taking it back from the Grounders soon, and we don't care what you think."

  "Come on," Matt said, grabbing my arm and tugging.

  He gave me the excuse I needed to step away from these two. I followed Matt to the door, but the back of my neck prickled as the Mars Identity people watched me.

  I had a target on me. Great.

  "You have to watch what you say," Matt said.

  "Sorry. And thanks." I felt almost embarrassed that he had to step in.

  Matt led me out of the storage room and back into the hall. My knees trembled with hunger, or maybe it was the adrenaline. There was no telling anymore. It seemed like it was all blending. I felt like a rat getting kicked out of a house.

  “Don't let them get to you,” Matt said. “Some people deal with the whole Grounders kicking us off Earth thing by giving it a big hug if you know what I mean.”

  “No. I don't,” I said.

  “What I mean is, some people feel, well, hopeless when it comes to getting back to Earth, so they try to make the best of it here.”

  “By being a bunch of schoolyard bullies?” I asked, glad to leave the storeroom behind. I didn't dare call it my living quarters. That crate was my temporary shelter, nothing more. I would not be a pest, but it was getting harder to avoid feeling like one.

  “Not all Mars Identity people are like that,” Matt said. “Being jerks makes the ones like Marv and his girlfriend feel special.”

  “So they're radicals," I said.

  “Exactly.”

  We walked faster. I had to eat something again, and soon, but I wanted to get out of this particular colony even more and get to wherever Matt was taking me. He was my only lifeline in this place, and I still hadn't found Winnie and the others. They must be in another colony, maybe even the one where Matt lived. They had left only a few hours before I had. They couldn't be across the planet or anything.

  "So, what now?" I asked.

  "I'll show you how the invasion's going to work," Matt said. "I'll even show you the facility that's going to do the launches."

  “I like that idea," I said.

  "That's if the other scouts planted their tracking cylinders," Matt said. "I'm sure they did. The Grounders don't think the way we do. They're so...concrete. Everything's black and white to them.”

  We stopped by the cafeteria again, where I ordered some nachos. I got a tiny bowl as I predicted, but I felt a little better after eating. “Is it morning?” I asked, facing the glass dome. A few people were already reading tablets there, bathing their green skin in the sun. I almost wanted to go back and take the injection. At least I wouldn't be such a big target, but I wasn't going to go home like this. Mom and Dad would freak.

  Maybe they deserved it after sending me here.

  “Yes,” Matt said. “I checked on you a few times, but you were sleeping. A Mars day is only about an hour longer than the one on Earth. Some people say they sleep better here than on Earth.”

  “I can't imagine why,” I said, polishing off the nachos. I scraped every bit of cheese off my plastic plate before throwing it in the recycling machine.

  Matt shrugged. “The tram leaves in ten minutes. I wanted to let you get
as much sleep and conserve as much energy as you could.”

  I followed Matt right through the dome, hurrying to get out of the toxic light before it messed with my skin. I caught a few more stares, and I crossed my arms to hide my Earth patch, something that would have caused my mother to look at me in shame. “What, exactly, is this plan?” I asked Matt once we were in the hallway. After three weeks crossing millions of miles of space, he hadn't opened up much. Of course, we hadn't been on speaking terms for much of that time.

  “I'll show you,” he said. "This isn't something for the public."

  Matt led me past a Mars Identity meeting hall. A sign of Mars and the three asteroids hung over some closed double doors. A man spoke inside over a microphone. He mentioned something about fairness and the future. I didn't linger. I had a deep fear that their philosophy would infect me if I stayed.

  The tram station was tiny compared to the ones on Earth. It smelled dusty, giving away the fact that it was subterranean. We stood inside of the Grounders' original home. The thought made a shudder race down my spine.

  Matt and I boarded one of five small cars, cramming in beside more people. I grabbed onto a hanging bar with everyone else, very aware that I was the only non-green person here. I forced myself to leave my Earth patch exposed, but it was beginning to make me feel stupid. It was like wearing the wrong team's colors at a sports game.

  This place was already ruining me.

  I didn't feel like Tess anymore.

  If I couldn't get back home, who was I?

  It only took a few minutes for the tram car to pull out of the station, and no one spoke over the speakers. We rose and rolled along a rail to the outside. Creepy pink light and a dead, rolling landscape spread out in front of us as we gained speed. A dust devil swirled in the distance and died.

  “Uplifting, isn't it?” Matt asked.

  I sighed. “How long?”

  “About twenty minutes.”

  Matt was right that our trip across the open landscape didn't take long. I tried not to think about whether the sunlight was damaging my skin, but it was too late to avoid that now. I watched the colony get smaller behind us, a collection of square structures with dingy glass domes. It was even more depressing from the outside. I thought I glimpsed a dark shape descending to the edge of the colony. More new residents. The Grounders were stepping up the draft.