The Colony Box Set (Books 1 and 2)

By J. Tomas

This box set combines both books in J. Tomas's successful gay dystopian YA romance, The Colony:

Book 1: Rebellion

Sixteen year old Aine lives in the Colony, and his whole life was decided before he was born. In two years he will marry the girl next door, Brin, who was assigned as his Other at birth. Then he will be given a position in the Colony's workforce that best suits his talents. Each night he takes four pills, like everyone else in the Colony, and he knows the pills keep them safe and their world in order.

Everything is fine. Perfect, in fact. Until Aine accidentally drops one of his pills.

Terrified, he tries to hide the mistake, but when he dreams for the first time in his life, he discovers all he's been missing. What scares him more than not taking the pill, though, is how alive his dreams make him feel. Because it isn't Brin he dreams of but his best friend Kyer.

Another boy.

Suddenly Aine's world turns upside down, and he doesn't know what to think or who to trust. All he knows for sure is he's falling in love with Kyer, which is forbidden by the Colony's Code, and he will do anything to protect their budding relationship.

**

Book 2: Revolution

The only way sixteen-year-old Aine and his true Other Kyer can be together is to escape the Colony with its Code, its pills, and its constant monitoring. Breaking out of the Colony was hard enough, but living outside of its protective walls proves to be even harder.

The boys have been raised to believe all life outside the Colony was destroyed by the last war. However, Aine soon discovers this is a lie. On their first day of freedom, they meet Sinda, a girl their own age who has grown up in the harsh new world outside the Colony. In return for some food, she agrees to help them out and leads them underground, where people must live to avoid predators, acid rain, and disease.

It doesn’t take long for Aine to tire of living hand to mouth. He misses the comforts of his bed, his friends, and his family. Why should he be the one to run away? He and the boy he loves have done nothing wrong.

Aine is destined to be the next Overseer, so why can’t he return to the Colony and start a revolution to change the way things are run? Why can’t people love who they want to, rather than who they’re told to? Why can’t they think for themselves, and live as they want?

When he receives a message from Brin that she, too, has stopped taking her pills, Aine realizes he isn’t the only one unhappy with the Code. If he and Kyer return, maybe they can enlist their friends’ help to bring about some much-needed changes.

But breaking back in proves even harder than breaking out. They must dodge the Officers, evade the Monitors, and convince a drug-controlled Colony it deserves better. But will anyone listen to them? Or will they be caught and medicated back into compliance?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Dec 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310141379

J. Tomas

J. Tomas is a pseudonym, I'll admit it up front, under which I publish gay YA fiction. I write gay erotic romance as J.M. Snyder and publish non-gay fiction, nonfiction, and poetry as J.T. Marie. You can email me at [e-mail] who am I? A writer, a reader, a poet. A video game nerd ~ I heart Final Fantasy, Tomb Raider, and Legend of Zelda. A cat owner. A movie goer, music lover, boyband groupie. A queer author who remembers all too well the pains of high school, first love, and how it felt to ride the school bus when all the "cool" kids had their own car. Who knows what it's like to be different in a school of clones, to feel different, look different, act different.Who wants to put those feelings down on paper so others know they aren't alone.More specifically, I live in Virginia with two very spoiled cats. I have a day job that's not too bad, and I've always wanted to be a writer, so I write.

Book preview

Chapter 1

It started the way all rebellions do. With a dream.

Now I knew I wasn’t supposed to have dreams. We took a pill to prevent them—it was the blue one, as I found out the evening I accidentally dropped it. Every night after I brushed my teeth, I would find the same little paper cup waiting for me on my bedside table. There were four pills inside. One red, one green, one blue, one white. My mother put them there, in the same spot where she always put them.

I had been taking the pills for as long as I could remember. Every night, I swallowed them down with a swig of water. I could take them all at once—they’re small. Sometimes, just to be a little different, I would take them singly. Some nights it was red first, some nights white. Blue and green were my favorite colors, so when I took them separately, I always made sure I took one of those last. They all tasted the same, but still.

That night I wanted to get them over with, so I picked up the cup and meant to tip it back, swallowing all the pills at once. But at the last minute, I gave the cup a sort of jerk, just hard enough to fling the pills at my open mouth. Tossing them down. I’d try the same thing with the water but I knew I’d only end up splashing myself instead.

Three of the pills made it in. Red, white, green. They hit my tongue and started to dissolve. Reflexively I gulped them down, reaching for the cup of water. They did all taste the same, and it wasn’t a pleasant taste, either. As I washed them away, I heard a tiny ping! as the blue pill hit the ground somewhere behind me.

Great.

I turned, pivoting on bare feet so I wouldn’t step on it by mistake. The floor in my room was short white carpet, the same as it was everywhere inside—not just our house, but all the houses in the Colony, and the classrooms and office buildings, too. It matched the walls, the screens, the consoles, our clothes. Blending everything together seamlessly. Making us one.

The blue pill should’ve stood out like a bug amidst all that white, but I didn’t see it. I couldn’t see it. Where…?

I took a step and felt it crunch beneath my heel. There.

Fear clawed at the back of my throat. I’d never missed a pill before. We couldn’t miss them. Each month, a new supply was delivered to our home, a separate box for each member of the family. My pills were mine, and I had just enough to get me through to the next delivery. I couldn’t take one of my mother’s, or one of my father’s, and definitely not one of my little sister’s. These were for me and me alone. They were manufactured to my exact specifications.

I couldn’t miss one. What would happen if I did?

Cautiously, I raised my foot just enough to see the crushed blue powder. For a moment it rested above the carpet, but when I moved my foot, the pill rubbed in and disappeared.

I glanced up at the screen above my door. It was a blank, black face staring back.

Did anyone see? Did anyone know?

Without trying to make any sudden movements, I rubbed my foot into the carpet, grinding the powder in. Okay, so no blue pill tonight. What did that mean, exactly?

I didn’t know. We were told the pills helped us. They gave us quiet, peaceful lives, far from the horrors of the past, disease and depravity and desire, things we read about on the console or learned in class. The pills kept us healthy, and safe.

And I didn’t take my blue pill tonight.

Would I wake up dead in the morning?

I didn’t know.

We were told the pills help, but we weren’t told how. My heart hammered in my chest, so loud and fast I was sure the screen would pick up my distress and send a signal to the Health Center requesting assistance. It was the thought of seeing that blank screen come to life that forced me to calm myself down.

One pill. I could make it without one. I’ve taken them for sixteen years, I reasoned. Surely there was some sort of build-up in my system. Surely someone missed a pill here or there, and didn’t die from it. I’d be fine.

I’d be fine.

Taking deep breaths to steady myself, I finished the rest of my water and placed it on the bedside table beside the little paper pill cup. I rubbed my foot over the spot where the blue pill disappeared, to make sure it was good and gone, then pulled back the covers on my bed. The fresh, tight sheets felt cool against my fevered face. I lay down, stretching out so each foot reached into a pocket corner at the end of the bed, where the sheets met the mattress.

My breathing slowed. My heart stopped racing.

See? Not dead yet. The pills helped us live better lives, true, but no one ever said not taking them would kill you.

I’d be fine. I told myself this over and over again until I started to believe it.

I closed my eyes. A full minute or two later, when my muscles began to relax, the light in my room dimmed, then extinguished.

What difference could one little pill possibly make, anyway?

* * * *

Sleep usually came within ten minutes of lying down. Like a screen on standby, the mind would slow its normal functions, eliminating all sight and sound while the body recharged. In the morning, I’d wake after the prescribed eight hours of downtime, refreshed and ready for another day’s work.

Without the little blue pill, the cycle was interrupted.

I lay awake for what felt like hours. The first time I opened my eyes, the light in the room brightened slightly, in sync with my body. I shut my eyes quickly, and pressed them tight to keep from opening them again. If my light stayed on for too long, the screen would come to life and a concerned head would appear, someone from the Monitor Center to inquire after me. Was I ill? Unwell? Had I taken my pills?

No. Best to pretend, keep my eyes shut, the lights out. Fake it. I’m asleep, see? I’m asleep.

Eventually the thought became reality, and I felt myself spiraling down…where, exactly? I wasn’t sure. Sleep had always come at me in a rush before. By the time my head hit the pillow, I would already be gone. Turned off. Recharging.

But tonight I felt my consciousness slipping away. I lay on my back and felt as if my thoughts were pooling in the nape of my neck. My heart slowed to a steady rhythm that sounded like footsteps when I pressed my ear against my pillow. My mind whirled at first, anxious, nervous, but as my vitals evened out, everything behind my eyes emptied until I stared at a vast darkness, a black so complete, it made me feel miniscule to stare into it. I felt myself shrinking, disappearing, dissolving, until I was just a tiny speck against all that nothingness.

And then I winked out.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the edge of my bed beside someone. I couldn’t look up and see who, but I saw my legs in their familiar, loose, white linen pants, and I saw another set alongside. A hand lay on the other knee, a hand I could almost recognize. I tried to move and couldn’t. Tried to stand or scream or shout—nothing. I had no memory of getting out of bed, of sitting up, of even waking up, and then it hit me.

This was a dream. I was dreaming.

I could dream.

From the beginning of our lives, we were told dreams were bad. They made for lazy, unproductive people. They created distraction and desire, both of which were bad for the Colony. They tired the mind when it should be resting. The pills stopped dreams, and distraction, and desire. They kept us alive, made us function. Made us Whole.

But this dream wasn’t a distraction. It felt real. I saw my hands on my thighs, and could feel the linen beneath my palms. The person beside me was saying something I couldn’t quite hear, but I couldn’t lean closer or ask them to speak up. My mouth felt dry, but my hands were damp with sweat.

Who was it?

The other person’s hand rose off the knee and hovered a moment, indecisive, before crossing the distance between us to land on my knee instead.

A flush of heat spiked through me at the touch. It was the first time anyone outside of my family unit or my Other had placed a hand so casually on my body, and every nerve tingled at the sensation. Even through the thin pants I wore, I could feel the heat the other person’s hand gave off. Was it my Other? It would make sense, wouldn’t it, that my first dream be of Brin, who was conscribed to me at birth. But her hand was daintier, more feminine, her nails oval and not quite so blunt.

Aine, someone sighed.

Dream or no, I heard my name spoken out loud, and I felt the breath against my ear. I knew the voice. It wasn’t my Other beside me at all, and the hand steadily rising up my leg until it covered my own wasn’t Brin’s.

Warm fingers enveloped mine and finally, finally, I moved. I glanced over and saw who sat so close to me, who held me so tight, who made my blood burn and my heart race in strangely sensual ways, as they had never done before.

It wasn’t Brin at all. It was Kyer, my best friend.

* * * *

Chapter 2

Every One had an Other. We were crafted together, birthed at the same time, two halves of one Whole. Everything I was not, she was. Everything she lacked, I had. Others assured we would never be alone. Since the first Colony, Others had worked together to create everything we held dear.

Including the pills, of course.

Brin was my Other. Each year, the Birthing Committee selected twenty-six embryos from stasis to be born. Thirteen boys, thirteen girls, twinned and tweaked to perfection. The entire Colony celebrated the births, and more couples applied to become parents than would be able to receive the children. The babies were born in the Birthing Center and nurtured there for three months by Birthers, workers whose sole purpose was to raise and feed and clothe the newborns. After this initial period, the babies were given new homes. Families could only receive a total of two children—one of each gender. This allowed everyone in the Colony the opportunity to become parents.

The year I turned eleven, my mother and father petitioned the Committee for another child. They received a daughter, my sister Evie, a year later. She would be the last child my parents were allowed to raise.

There was no such thing as natural birth in the Colony.

We learned about it in class, and why it had been such a dangerous practice. Too many children born too quickly, to parents unable or unwilling to care for them. Diseases spread through sexual interactions. Mothers dying in childbirth, children born with defects, a whole gamut of reasons our system was better.

In the Colony, women and men donated their genes to future generations. The best traits were passed on, and families created through blending the Whole. Everyone who wanted a child could petition to receive one, and those who would rather focus on other talents didn’t have to be burdened with parenthood. It was all coded in our genes. If someone wanted a child, then his or her Other would want to raise a family, as well. If someone was better suited for long hours working for the Whole, the Other was, too.

Everyone was happy in the Colony. They had to be.

We took pills for it.

* * * *

The morning after the incident with my blue pill, I woke on my own, feeling refreshed. Usually the screen above my door clicked on with a soft chime that sounded every few seconds, growing louder as the light in the room brightened, drawing me from sleep.

But I was up before the chime began, my eyes open a full minute before the light brightened in response. I snuggled in the sheets for a moment, remembering the feel of Kyer’s hand on my knee, my thigh. If I’d stayed asleep a little longer, where exactly would his hand have ended up?

A delicious shiver tickled through me at the thought. I couldn’t wait to tell him about the dream.

No, I couldn’t. No one could know. Then they would know I didn’t take the blue pill, and it’d get back to the Health Center, and I’d be detained.

The dream was my little secret.

I had another minute to myself before the screen clicked to life. Someone stared into my room, a woman older than me but not quite as old as my mother. A Monitor, someone whose job it was to watch over everyone through the consoles in the Monitor Center.

Good morning, A-4602, she said, her voice pleasant but neutral. It was just another morning at work for her. She tapped the headset holding back strawberry-colored curls and I heard the sound loudly through the speakers built into the wall. Did you sleep well?

She knows. I threw back the covers and draped my legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. My left foot covered the spot where I thought I had smashed the blue pill the night before.

Monitor, I’m fine, I assured her.

The look on her face suggested otherwise. If I were fine, I’d still be asleep, and the chimes would have to wake me up.

She typed on a keyboard just out of sight, then nodded. Please stand with your arms out so I can run a bioscan.

I did as she asked. Would a bioscan show I hadn’t taken all my pills? Would I be found out before I even had a chance to savor this new freedom? Would I be detained after all?

The bioscan was painless. A thin slit in the wall lit up with a red light that circled my bedroom, then a laser scanned me from head to toe. I kept my face blank and held my breath. Please, I thought, not sure exactly who I might be pleading with. The Monitor, maybe? The Colony itself?

The memory of Kyer’s hand on my leg seared into my mind. Please. Don’t notice. Let me keep this.

After a moment, the laser disappeared and the red light flicked off. When it was gone, I couldn’t even see the slit where it had been.

The Monitor nodded again. The bioscan is within normal range. Please report to the Health Center for further testing as soon as possible.

My heart stuttered. I have class this morning, I pointed out.

After class is over will be fine, she assured me.

The bioscan was normal, I argued.

She gave me an uncharacteristic grin. It’s a preliminary test, checking all your vitals. The Health Center will be a bit more thorough, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.

But I was worried. In fact, for the first time in my life, I was terrified.

* * * *

My given name was A-4602. The letter indicated the order of my birth and the numbers, the year. Within the Colony, I was known first as A-4602; every communication I received from any Colony department referenced me by that name. But my parents chose Aine from the list of pre-approved names issued the year I was born, and most people I knew called me that. Teachers, my family, my friends. My Other.

When Brin and I married, we would be known in the system as AB-4602. Two Halves becoming Whole. The beauty of the Colony’s philosophy at work.

I stayed in my room until I heard the soft chimes start down the hall, rousing my parents and sister. Then I ducked into the bathroom to freshen up. There was a cabinet inside the bathroom with four shelves in it, one for each member of the family. I showered quickly—my prescribed seven minutes, no more, no less—then dressed in a clean pair of linen pants and lightweight tunic that were a mirror image of the outfit I wore to bed. White—everything was white. I dried my hair with a towel and combed the dark, damp strands back from my face. I watched my reflection in the tempered glass, looking for anything out of place, anything different.

I looked the same to me. If I couldn’t see any outward signs I hadn’t taken the blue pill, maybe no one else would, either.

In the main living area, my mother had breakfast already on the table. Two slices of thin, buttered toast and a scrambled pile of protein. From what I had learned in class, the protein was made to resemble eggs, unfertilized genetic material of extinct birds. The darker bits were supposed to mimic sausage, meat from another animal long gone. In the Colony, the only living creatures were humans. Even the plants were synthetic, and no one I knew had ever seen an animal or bird or insect of any kind outside of pictures stored in the Colony Archives.

Humans had destroyed the planet, we were taught. They wiped out all other living beings and made the place uninhabitable. In a last-ditch effort to avoid our own extinction, the first Colonists set off to forge a new identity, controlled and contained. Everything we did was with an eye towards our future survival as a species. Which made it worthwhile, right?

Right?

As I sat down in my seat at the table, my father glanced up from his console and nodded. Heard you woke up early this morning, he said in greeting.

Before I could respond, my mother asked, Are you feeling all right?

I’m fine, I assured them. Inside, my stomach churned with dull fear, and the thought of choking down the fake protein scramble nauseated me. I bit into my toast instead. They want to see me at the Health Center for a check-up, that’s all.

You’re a growing boy, my father said. Just need to adjust the pills a bit, I’m sure that’ll fix it. You’re what, sixteen?

I nodded as I chewed on the toast. He didn’t glance up from the console to see.

Another two years and you’ll be leaving us. My mother sniffled the way she always did when she thought of my moving out.

At eighteen, my classes would be over and I’d have to decide on a career. Then Brin and I would marry and move into one of the homes that would become available that same year. I wasn’t yet sure exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, but Brin told me she might apply for a position in the Birthing Center. A small part of me was relieved—maybe working around the newborns every day would curb her desire to apply for a child of our own. I didn’t see myself being a father.

Though, to be honest, it must not have been very difficult. My own father spent most of his time at home with his console in front of his face, reading the news or playing that odd numbers game all the adults seemed to like. My own console was locked, limited to only class-related information and lesson-based ‘games’ that were, in reality, nothing more than snazzy teaching interfaces. When I wasn’t in class, I kept it turned off. I preferred rec time with my classmates and friends rather than impersonal face time with the console.

Speaking of, if I didn’t get moving, I would be late.

But when I tried to rise from the table, my mother stopped me with a stern look. "Are you sure you’re all right, Aine? You barely touched your food. Maybe you should head on over to the Health Center before class."

I’m fine, I said again. I sat back down and shoveled food into my mouth, swallowing without chewing, trying not to think of eggs or sausage or extinct animals. Instead I focused my mind on the memory of Kyer’s hand on my leg—it had felt so real! Were all dreams like that?

If so, why keep them from us?

All done. I pushed back my plate and stood again. Before my mother could protest, I wiped my mouth with a cloth napkin and hurried around the table to give her a quick, one-armed hug. Have a great day at work. Bye, you guys.

My father’s response was a raised eyebrow to show he’d heard me. Evie sat in her booster seat and stared at her own console, her first—she received it a few days ago and hadn’t put it down since. Only my mother said anything as I hurried for the door. Let me know what the Health Center says.

I will, I called back, but it was perfunctory at best. Of course she’d find out. Whatever happened, they’d tell her about it instantly. How else did my father know I’d woken before everyone else?

And how long before everyone knew I hadn’t taken all my pills?

* * * *

Chapter 3

When society crumbled and the world as it once had been was destroyed, those who created the Colony retreated to a large island just off the coast. All bridges leading to the mainland were detonated during the last World War, the buildings razed, and the streets crumbled into dust. From the ashes of this devastation, the Colony rose like a mythical phoenix. Protocols were put into place immediately to protect the few who had survived. A military state fashioned around scientists and engineers, the architects of our future.

That was hundreds of years ago—ancient history, taught to children in class and promptly forgotten. We never knew war, or pestilence, or hunger. We never knew want. The Colony sustained us, and our parents before us, and their parents before them. The cycle was eternal, never ending. Complete.

A monorail circled around the Colony and bisected the homes to the south from the business district further north. The rail ran every fifteen minutes, day or night, two trains always equidistance apart. Coming and going, into infinity, drawing a tight number eight around both halves of one whole. Fortunately, my home was next to the northbound rail, which gave me an extra few moments in the morning before I would miss the train.

In the bright early sunlight, I stood on the platform alone and waited. I fancied I could hear the faint hum of the rail, but I knew it was the train farther down the track making the noise. I envisioned it on the opposite side of the houses, blocks away, stopping a moment to take on students heading to class or adults heading into the office. I should ride through the school stop and onto the Health Center, I thought, get that over with, but I was afraid. My heart hammered and my palms sweated. More than once, I wiped them on my pants in an effort to dry them.

It didn’t work.

The next time I wiped my hands down my sides, someone took the left one. Fingers laced through mine and I turned to find Brin smiling up at me. My age, she had naturally tanned skin and brownish-blonde hair that reminded me of the fine sand lining the sidewalks. Her bright blue eyes were veiled with thick lashes, and when she smiled, a dimple appeared just to the right of her full lips.

Maybe it was because I was biologically created to think so, but no other girl in our year looked as pretty. No one else came close, except…

Except Kyer.

The thought came unbidden and I pushed it away with a shake of my head. I gave Brin’s hand a squeeze. Hey, there you are.

You didn’t wait for me, she chided.

Brin lived next door to us—the Birthing Committee went to great lengths to ensure Others grew up together, assigning them to parents in close proximity to each other. In all my memories, Brin was there, front and center. I grew up knowing she was mine. No matter how nervous or anxious I felt, just seeing her calmed me down.

I took a deep breath, steady for the first time since the screen clicked on above my door earlier that morning. I’m sorry, I said, with another squeeze of her hand. I guess I just didn’t…

A small frown creased her forehead. Are you all right?

Automatically, I answered, I’m fine. Why would you ask?

You’re pale. Her free hand drifted to brush my cheek. Her fingertips felt cold in the cool morning air. You’re very warm, and your hand is sweaty. Are you ill?

"I don’t think so." I pulled back from her touch, turning my face away. Was it that obvious? If I had known I’d be under such scrutiny for not taking my pill, I would’ve gotten down on my hands and knees and licked the powder off the carpet. Anything to fit in. Anything to go unnoticed.

And give up the dream? my mind whispered. The image flooded my senses—Kyer’s closeness, his hand on my leg, the delicious feeling of anticipation deep within that lingered upon awaking. As my Other, Brin could touch me without it seeming improper, but I’d never felt with her the way I had with Kyer in the dream. I’d face any inquisition if only to feel it again.

Thinking fast, I explained, I woke early this morning for some reason. I guess I just feel a little off today.

Before the chime? Brin narrowed her eyes as she studied me. That can’t be good. Did you take your pills last night?

What? Of course. I gave her a strange look as if to say, Are you mad? Didn’t you?

Her smile slid shyly into view. Every night. Maybe you need a higher dose. That happened to me once.

I turned to her, interested now. When?

A thin blush crept into her cheeks and, too late, I realized she wasn’t talking about the blue pill at all but the red one. Oh, you know. Girl stuff. When I didn’t reply, she added in a small voice, You know what I’m talking about, Aine. Don’t make me say it out loud.

Her discomfort made me forget my own. Freeing my hand from hers, I draped my arm around her shoulders and hugged her awkwardly, much the same way I had hugged my mother earlier. I have to stop by the Health Center and get it checked out, I told her. Everything will be fine.

She raised her hand to hold mine where it dangled from her shoulder. You can’t miss class. We have the Monitor tour today.

Ah, right. We were at the age where the Colony began testing our abilities to find the best job for us once classes were over. Last week, we toured the Birthing Center, and Brin scored exceptionally well on the aptitude test afterward. Today, we were scheduled to tour the Monitor Center, and see what happened behind the scenes—or rather, the screens that peered into every room in the Colony. Even though I didn’t want to sit on the other side of a screen for the rest of my life, I was curious to know what went on out of sight when the screen was dark. What they saw. What they knew.

After class, then, I promised her.

At our feet, the rail began to vibrate, and in the distance, I heard the whoosh of brakes as the train slowed at another platform further down the track. Another few moments and it’d stop for us.

Brin reminded me, We have rec time tonight, remember?

I have to go, I told her. The Monitor said today. I’ll be a little late to rec if I have to.

They won’t let you in, Brin warned.

I’ll get a pass, I assured her.

In the distance, the monorail appeared like a silver bullet streaking by the quiet homes. Doors opened and other students hurried to our platform, crowding for a position. I kept Brin close, protecting her, and when she boarded the train first, she held my hand in a firm grip to pull me up after her. As we hurried down the aisle in search of a pair of empty seats, the train lunged along the rail into the heart of the Colony.

* * * *

Kyer’s stop was the last one before the monorail elevated into the air above the returning track and circled around the Colony’s business district. Due to its geographical location in relation to our homes, the northern part of the Colony—the place where everyone worked or went to class—was simply referred to as Up. Barring illness, everyone in the Colony went Up every day, and came back down when their shift or class was over.

Through the window, I saw a cluster of students at Kyer’s stop. In spite of the monorail’s speed, I could pick my friend out easily from the others. He stood a good head taller than most of the guys in our year, and his blond curls were a shade lighter than Brin’s. He had an easy laugh and a quick grin, and long, gangly legs that always seemed to be at odd angles with the rest of his body. Thinking of his legs recalled my dream, and how close he’d sat beside me, and his hand on my knee.

A nervous tickle started in the base of my spine and I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable. Keep going, I mentally commanded the monorail, but it ignored me and started to slow as it neared Kyer’s stop.

Speed up, I pleaded. Faster, leave him behind.

Instead, it stopped long enough to open its doors. Students jostled inside, Kyer towering above the rest.

I kept my head turned toward the window, but from the corner of my vision, I saw him notice me anyway. A moment ago, I’d been eager to see him and tell him about my dream, but now that he was weaving through the crowd towards me, I just wanted him to go away. I wiped my hands down my thighs, nervous for no real reason. This was Kyer. We’d been friends since birth. The only person my own age I’d known longer was Brin. Why did I want to avoid him all of a sudden?

I had no time to think. When the train started moving again, Kyer dropped into the seat facing mine, and his Other clambered over his long legs to take the seat beside him, opposite Brin. I’d always thought Lyra was plain—nowhere near as pretty as Brin—and now seeing her take Kyer’s hand so easily in her own made her hideous.

I scowled out the window, biting the inside of my lip to keep from saying anything mean.

With his free hand, Kyer slapped my arm. Don’t say hi or nothing.

Hi, I muttered. I glanced at Kyer, then back at the window. Then, before I could stop myself, I let my gaze trail back and linger over his features. He had the same large, blue eyes as Brin, and the same full lips, as well. The same damn eyelashes, even, thicker than a boy’s should have been. What looked pretty on my Other looked stunning on him.

Why had I never noticed before?

After a moment, Kyer’s half-cocked grin dropped and he looked across me to Brin. What’s with him?

He woke before the chimes, Brin explained. She patted my hand where it lay on the armrest between us, and I pulled away. He has to go to the Health Center after class.

Kyer frowned at me. You’re going to miss rec time.

I’ll make it, I assured him. When he looked at me, I forgot how to breathe. When he looked away, the world stopped until he turned back to me.

What was happening to me? Why did my skin feel like it was crawling on my bones? Why did my blood pound in my ears, my temples, my crotch?

Was this from the dream? This rush of feelings was much more intense than the anxious anticipation I’d felt while asleep. No wonder we took the pills, if it meant keeping emotions such as these at bay. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and hide away in the darkest corner all at the same time. I wanted Kyer to look at me, to see only me, but when he did, I felt as though I would burst into flame.

Did I always feel this way around him? Did the pills blind me to the way he made me feel? Or did not taking the pill make me feel as if…as if he were the only person in the entire Colony who mattered to me?

How would I know? Who could I ask?

And did Kyer…could he feel the same about me?

* * * *

Chapter 4

Classes were held in a large, imposing building at the apex of the monorail’s track, before the train began the curving descent around the business district and back down to the residential homes. But when students of a particular year were scheduled to visit a working environment, we stayed on the train past the classroom and, instead, exited at the office building where our Teacher would meet us. So when the train left the platform in front of the classroom, twenty-six students remained behind, every one of them my age. They were paired with their Others, and many sat facing another pair of friends, the same way Brin and I sat opposite Kyer and Lyra.

Lyra stared out the window at the gray, steely waters beyond the edges of the Colony. From the monorail, the view of the ocean was expansive but dismal—white-capped waves were the same metallic shade as the cloud-covered sky above. We had learned of the sun and stars in class but no one I knew had ever seen them. Nothing but gray skies as far as the eye could see, giving the white buildings within the Colony a brilliance that made them seem to glow with life.

I might want to be a Monitor, she said suddenly.

I stared at her hand, still entwined with Kyer’s, and felt the knife of jealousy twist further into my gut.

Oh, no, really? Brin asked, wrinkling her nose. "They don’t really do anything, do they? I mean, just sit there and watch us all the time."

"Not all the time, I amended. When my friends looked at me, I explained, When the screen’s off, they can’t see us, can they?"

"Can they?" Kyer asked.

It was on the tip of my tongue to say no, they can’t,