“I’ll deal with her...Where’s her file?... Thank you, you may go now.”

  My hearing came back before my eyesight, everything still fuzzy as I came to but eventually my vision cleared, and I could start to make out some details on the person sitting in front of me.

  Her almost-black hair was clipped short above the chin and styled in uniform waves, her navy dress stylish but functional, and even if the diamond brooch over her heart should have been the first indication, it was her perfect posture that gave her away as a Custom.

  ‘Held up by the confidence in their superiority’ Ramya once said. And this woman was no different from the rigid, perfect creatures I’d heard about.

  Her smile was forced and her large brown eyes sparkled in unsettling intensity, like there was an equal chance of her praising or condemning me.

  She leant her elbows on the white table between us.

  “What am I going to do with you?” she wondered aloud.

  I went to sit up straighter in my chair but felt the cold restraint of a straitjacket. Again. Twice in one day had to be a new low for me but instead of fighting to get out of it, I focused on my surroundings.

  A single lamp hung overhead, and the walls shone pure white, with only the glinting silver of a large rectangular mirror behind her offering a hint of colour.

  The musty smell was still definitely Vocafeum, but I’d never been here before. My fate had always been decided by senior wardens in their offices so this was definitely a bad sign. A dreadful thought crossed my mind.

  Had I been taken to meet the director?

  Don’t get me wrong, I was living on borrowed time anyway and always knew how my end would go, that there’d come a time when even Galton’s experiments couldn’t save me, but the full reality of it, that this day had actually come, washed over me like ice water.

  Goosebumps ran down my arms as I realised that this was probably going to be my last day alive.

  I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to Niles and Ramya.

  “Do you know where you are, VC2104?”

  I shook my head.

  She pulled out some papers from a bag beneath the table and sat down, flicking through them.

  “Disruption of peace, theft, inciting violence… I expected more backchat from a girl like this, but when push comes to shove and you land face to face with the director, you’ve got nothing to say.”

  “You- you’re the director?” I stammered out. The woman clapped her hands.

  “Ah! She talks. Yes, I am. And I’ve been looking forward to meeting you VC2104, because now I get to decide what happens to you. Obviously according to the law, you should be executed...”

  I took a sharp breath.

  “… But don’t worry, not today. It’s my job to see justice carried out for our most troublesome occupants, and I’ve got something different in mind.”

  She straightened the papers into a neat pile on the table.

  “The wardens believe you still need punishment for sedating their colleague, so I proposed an alternative. You see, I think we could be quite helpful for each other. What do you know about the Relegate Project?”

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  “Literally nothing.”

  She smiled, softening her features.

  “My husband and I have launched a new initiative with the belief that Relegates can be trained out of their natural weaknesses, that with enough help you might be able to live among civilised society. That’s why I’m recruiting a select few to enlist. How does that sound to you?”

  I forced a small laugh.

  “That sounds great, is there another project for teaching pigs to fly?”

  I leaned towards her.

  “No offence but I have a hard time believing a Custom like you would ever see Relegates as anything more than an invisible workforce meant to be locked away, so what’s the catch?”

  The director turned a corner of her mouth upwards, although it did little to reassure me.

  “You’re right, a Custom like myself wouldn’t simply allow Relegates to live among us, which is why you’ll have to prove yourself in three deadly trials. I won’t lie, not many of you will survive them, but for the ones that do, they’ll prove Relegates are capable of living lives outside the institutions. You can read the contract for the proper terms of your temporary freedom. That is, unless you want to be executed.”

  I considered my options. On the one hand, almost death was better than certain death. On the other, I was tired. Tired of constantly fighting a losing battle, of surviving another day only to be rewarded with hunger, hurt and pain.

  She spread the papers across the table like a fan, then handed me a fountain pen. I recognised my photo on the first page, the narrow brown eyes, a tangle of rough-cut blonde hair, skin that hadn’t seen good sun in many years and the cheesy grin to top it all off. That had been about a month ago, the day I smuggled food out of the kitchens to feed a patient suffering from the effects of starvation. The director must’ve seen the decision play out on my face because she pointed to the contract.

  “I’ll need you to sign here, here and here.”

  She snapped her fingers and a couple of wardens burst into the room to unfasten the strait jacket.

  With shaking hands I took the pen and wrote my name in loopy, uneven letters formed by an unpractised hand.

  “I’ve just signed my life away, haven’t I?” I asked her.

  “That depends on you,” she answered, scooping the papers up and swiftly leaving the room, metallic blue heels clacking against the tiled floor. She paused in the doorway.

  “The hov arrives in five minutes. I’ll meet you outside the front gates but I need to make a quick call first.”

  The wardens lifted me to my feet and pushed me into the cold basement corridor, then up the lift for the ground floor.

  The main reception room lay ahead, where the hov drivers were supposed to report to for collecting exports or confirming incoming ration supplies, when I saw Niles through the glass window.

  Our eyes met, and his whole body seemed to relax as he said something to the receptionist then rushed to meet me, jogging down the corridor.

  “Do you know how worried I was? You keep doing this to me and it’s not fair. I’m not your babysitter, I shouldn’t have to be constantly worrying about your safety. Thank goodness you’re alive.”

  He wrapped me in an enormous hug, swallowing me in his large frame.

  “Where you heading, anyway?”

  “So… funny story,” I started, pulling away, “They’ve enlisted me on some kind of deadly sociology experiment.”

  His voice went quiet.

  “Deadly?”

  “Yeah but it’s only like a moderate risk.”

  He looked at me, unimpressed.

  “Moderate to medium,” I amended, “Alright, medium to high, but I’ll be fine.”

  He held my hands in his, staring down the guards, daring them to object.

  “You need to write to me every day, or give me a sign, I don’t care how you do it or what it is, but let me know you’re alive.”

  He wrapped me up in a final hug.

  “Why do you do this to me Ayla?”

  I laughed and hugged him back before pulling away and giving a playful punch on his arm.

  “Need to keep you on your toes in case you grow bored of me, obviously. I’ll come back for you. And Ramya too.”

  “Just come back. And no funny business, wherever they’re taking you.”

  “Niles…”

  “Promise me you won’t add to the risk you’re already in.”

  I gave a dramatic sigh and put my hand to my heart.

  “I promise that I won’t get into any shenanigans, antics, escapades, plots, plans, violence, or death in your absence, swear on Galton’s grave.”

  I looked to the wardens.

  “And you can tell him I said that.”

  They grabbed one of my arms each and marched forward.

  “No wait!” I exclaimed, “Wait Niles, tell Ramya I said goodbye, tell her everything. I’ll see you soon, I’m coming back for you.”

  Niles waved.

  “I will. Good luck out there, make us proud.”

  I didn’t have time to say anything else as we barrelled through the reception, and the polished double doors to outside.

  I shivered as the big black gates opened, the gates that formed the perimeter wall of the institution, the wall that contained all I’d ever known my entire life.

  The crop fields, the quarry, the factories, a life I’d get Niles and Ramya out of once this adventure was over. An adventure I’d relish for the rest of my days, however long or short they were to be. I embraced the cold Summer morning and stepped away from my ending, into my new beginning.