Among the Betrayed (4 page)

“I dunno. Maybe I can't see a little girl with braids as a hardened criminal,” the man said carelessly. “Maybe I think the ones you need to trick would be more likely to
trust a girl. Maybe I just didn't like Jason.”

Nina longed to defend Jason, to yell and scream at this man that he was a fine one to be calling Jason unlikable. But it was impossible to defend Jason. Surely he had known that betraying Nina would lead to her death.
Why
had he done it? Why had he tried to trick the Population Police himself?

Nina didn't have time to lose herself in such questions. The man was talking again, explaining what he meant for her to do.

“We have a group of illegals that we've arrested,” he said. “Shadow children with fake I.D.'s—”

“I thought you said that was impossible. Shadow children can't get fake I.D.'s,” Nina interrupted.

“Well, not
good
ones. Not ones that would fool anyone in authority,” the man said. “That's why these kids got caught. I wouldn't be surprised if these kids made the fake I.D.'s themselves. But they're not talking. I have a duty, to the Population Police, to find out who made those I.D.'s, if there's anyone else involved in this evil. And we need to know who's been harboring these illegal children all these years. They were all found out in the street, and they refuse to reveal their parents' names or addresses. You see our dilemma? If we execute the children immediately, other criminals—the ones who hid them, the ones who made their I.D.'s—will never be caught. But if we put you in the same prison cell as these kids, and you get them to trust you and tell you the truth, then you can tell me, and
we can get rid of all the criminals. And society's needs will be served. Do you understand?”

Nina understood, all right. That was why she was shivering violently. Even her braids were shaking.

“And if I refuse?” she asked. Her voice shook, too.

The man raised his eyebrows. “You would dare even to think of that as an option?” he thundered. “If you refuse, you join your wonderful friend Jason. You die.”

The sandwich that had tasted so good only a few minutes ago was now churning in Nina's stomach. How could she possibly agree to do what the man was asking of her?

But how could she
not
agree, and let them kill her?

Jason had betrayed her. Her friends had not defended her. It was the way of the world to look out only for yourself.

“Why would any of these shadow children trust me, anyway?” Nina asked.

“Because,” the man said, “we'll make them think you're an exnay, too. Surely you can act the part.”

Oh, yes. I can do that,
Nina thought.
But can I live with myself if I get these kids to trust me, and then I betray them?

The man was already standing up, brushing crumbs off his pants.

“So, it's settled,” he said, as though the conversation was over and Nina had agreed to help. “We'll move you into their cell in the morning.”

He turned around and walked slowly toward the door.
It seemed to take him a good five minutes to get his key out, put it in the lock, turn the key so the door sprang open. Nina kept telling herself to call out to him,
Wait! I won't do it! I'd rather die than work for the Population Police! I
am
an exnay! My name is Elodie and I'm proud of it. . . .
But Nina couldn't get her mouth to open, her tongue to move.

And then the man was out the door. He flipped a switch and Nina's cell was plunged into darkness again. She heard his footsteps echo down the hall, a lonely sound in the bleak prison.

I belong here now,
Nina thought.
I am a betrayer. I am evil.

B
y morning Nina was thinking about a fairy tale. But this time it wasn't one about a beautiful princess falling in love with a handsome prince. It was “Rumpelstiltskin.”

I'm like the miller's daughter,
Nina told herself.
The king told her she had to spin straw into gold or die. Given that choice, of course she didn't speak up and say, “Oops, sorry, I can't do it. Kill me.” I'm not going to say that, either.
But the miller's daughter wasn't supposed to hurt anyone else. She was just supposed to do something impossible, not wrong.

What Nina was going to do was definitely wrong.

Maybe these other kids will be horrible and nasty, and I'll be glad to betray them,
Nina thought.
Maybe they deserve it.

She couldn't make herself believe that.

Nina was still sitting wide awake in the dark when she heard the door of her jail cell scrape open. A guard came over and yanked on her arm.

“Come on with you,” he snarled.

“The handcuffs—I'm chained,” Nina protested. “I'm chained to the wall.”

The guard swore and kicked her in the stomach. Nina doubled over in pain.
This
was how the Population Police treated people who worked for them?

The guard stalked out of the jail cell and came back moments later with a key. He unlocked the chains on the wall, then jerked Nina to her feet. Nina hadn't stood in two days. Her legs felt stiff and useless beneath her.

“Come
on
!” the guard commanded, pulling on her arm.

Nina stumbled after him. They went down stairs and through long corridors, past dozens of barred doors. Nina wanted to peek in some of them, but it was too dark, and the guard was rushing her too fast. They descended a final set of stairs, and the air got clammier. Nina tripped and fell, and her bare knee touched standing water before she could right herself. She ran her fingers along the stone wall, and it was moist, too.

They were in the basement. Maybe it was even a cave.

They reached yet another door—this one solid wood—and the guard gripped her arm tighter. With his free hand he unlocked the door, then propelled her forward.

“And if you make any more trouble, you'll get even worse!” he yelled as he released his grip on her arm. Nina flew forward, landing in a heap. The door slammed shut behind her.

“Hello?” Nina called tentatively. She peered into the darkness around her but couldn't make out anything. For
all she knew, the walls could be inches from her nose, or miles away. “Hello?” she called again. “Is anyone there?”

There was a rustling off to her right. Nina wondered if it was just rats or mice, and this was all a cruel trick. But in the next second a match flared in the darkness, and someone whispered, “No, I've got it. . . .”

And then a candle glowed. In the dim light Nina could make out two—no, three—faces. These were the kids Nina was supposed to betray. In horror she cried out, “Are any of you older than five?”

A
ll three faces stared resentfully back at Nina. She had never seen such filthy, ragged children in all her life. After two days in prison—with her dress torn and blood-soaked, her face streaked with tears and dirt, her braid ties lost—Nina knew she wasn't exactly a fashion plate herself. But these kids looked—and smelled, come to think of it—like they'd been born in one of Aunty Lystra's precious garbage dumps. They had dirt caked on their cheeks. They had smears of who knows what dribbled down their patched, baggy clothes. Their matted hair hung in ragged clumps into their eyes. It was impossible to tell if they were boys or girls. Nina wouldn't even have been surprised to discover that they were neither, but some sort of strange humanlike animal she'd never heard of.

Then they started talking.

“We're
all
older than five,” the one in the middle said. “We're just small for our ages.”

The smallest one nodded vigorously. “Matthias is ten, Percy is nine, and I'm six.”

“And what's your name?” Nina asked gently.

“Alia,” the child answered.

Alia. So the littlest one was a girl.
How can I betray a little girl?
Nina asked herself. When Nina was six, her aunties had taken turns holding her on their lap, teaching her to read. Gran herself was in charge of math lessons, and Aunty Rhoda taught her how to spell. Nina could still remember how it felt to snuggle so cozily in an aunty's lap, in the big armchair, with a book balanced on her knees. No matter how cold it got in their apartment, Nina always felt warm, when she was six.

And this six-year-old girl was huddled in a damp jail cell, waiting to die.

“If you don't mind,” the biggest one—Matthias?—asked, “I think we'll put out the candle now. We only have the one. But we wanted to get a good look at you.”

“Oh, go ahead,” Nina said, though she longed for light. Two days in darkness had been much too long.

“My turn!” Alia said joyfully. She leaned over and blew. The flame vanished. Nina longed for it to come back.

But in the darkness I can trick them more easily. They won't be able to tell from my face when I am lying.

Was
Nina going to lie to them? She couldn't decide.

“So. Who are you?” an unfamiliar voice—Percy's?—asked in the darkness.

And Nina was already lost. Which name should she say? Which names had they told her—real or fake? She had trouble imagining anyone wanting to name their kid Percy. So they were probably still pretending
to be the people their fake I.D.'s said they were.

“You can call me Nina,” she said cagily. “But my real name is—”

“No! Don't say it!” Alia screamed.

“We think they might be listening,” Matthias explained in a whisper.

“So what?” Nina said recklessly. “They're going to kill us anyway.”

Somehow Nina could feel the shocked silence on the other side of the room. Even in the dark she could picture those three grimy faces agape with horror.

“No, they're not,” Alia said. “They're going to find out we're innocent, and then they're going to release us.”

Alia's voice was buoyant with hope, calm and confident. Did she really believe what she was saying? Was she that stupid? Just from the way the three kids had huddled together, in the brief moments that the candle had been lit, Nina could tell that Matthias and Percy watched out for Alia. Maybe the boys, not wanting a hysterical six-year-old on their hands, had filled her head with lies: “Everything's okay. They won't hurt us. We'll get out soon.”

Or was Alia acting, for the sake of the Population Police they thought were listening? Maybe one of the boys had told Alia, “Act like you think we're innocent, and maybe they'll believe it.” But could a six-year-old act so convincingly?

Anyway, how could they possibly think the Population
Police were listening? (Or
know
—if Nina told the Population Police everything, wasn't it like they were listening through Nina's ears?)

Nina rubbed her forehead. Everything was a muddle. How could she ever get these kids to trust her and spill all their secrets now? Did she really want them to tell her all their secrets?

I could find out their secrets and just not tell the Population Police,
she told herself.

“How long have you been here?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual, like she didn't really care but didn't have anything else to do but ask questions.

Nobody answered right away. Nina thought maybe they were whispering together on the other side of the room. Then Percy spoke up.

“We don't really know. It's hard to tell day from night down here.”

“They've only brought us food three times,” Alia said helpfully.

“How were you arrested?” Nina asked.

Again, it was a while before anyone answered. Nina wished so badly that she could see them.

“We were standing in line to buy cabbage. All three of us,” Matthias finally said. “The Population Police came through the market, checking I.D.'s. They said ours were fake. So they arrested us—”

“But they're not fake!” Alia interrupted. “They're real, and the Population Police should know that. DO YOU
HEAR ME?” Alia's voice was directed not at Nina, but at the door. Her words echoed so loudly, Nina could barely hear the two boys shushing her.

Nina decided to pretend she didn't notice.

“Why haven't your parents come to get you out?” Nina asked.

“Don't got any parents,” Alia said.

Nina noticed the way she'd said that—“Don't got any,”—not “Our parents are dead,” or “We live with our grandparents,” or “It'd be our aunt coming for us.”

“Who takes care of you?” Nina asked cautiously.

“We take care of ourselves,” Alia said hotly.

And this time Nina was sure the boys were whispering to Alia, telling her not to say anything else. A miserable lump filled Nina's throat. Filthy as they were, at least those three kids had one another. Nina wanted someone to huddle with, too.
If Jason were here
—

No, not Jason. He was dead now, and anyway, he had betrayed her. How could she forget? Remembering his hugs made her skin crawl; thinking about his kisses made her wish she'd punched him in the nose instead of kissing back. Why hadn't she challenged him: “You keep saying we ought to do something about third children's rights, something like the famous Jen Talbot's rally. So why don't we?” Nina could have exposed him as a fake, right then and there. She could have been a hero, like Jen.

Instead, she was about to become a traitor.

N
ina fell into a miserable sleep because that was the only way to escape. Let the other three whisper together all they wanted.

She woke when a light flashed over her—someone was shining a flashlight in through the open door.