Link City

Number One Rule *

Chapter 3: Number One Rule

The lights flickered on, and a man in a suit walked out on stage. Again, there was no visible microphone, and yet his voice seemed to come from everywhere.

“Hello, this year's marked. You all know why you're here, and I'm not one to sugar coat, so let's cut right to it.”

He scanned the windows, his eyes seeming to settle momentarily on all of us. “The coming month will not be pleasant for you, and for many of you it will end in death. Once you leave this building, you are on your own. You are no longer your parents responsibility. If you go to them for help, or anyone else for that matter, the accessory price—which I'm sure you are all aware of—will be placed on their head. Remember, although your friends may offer you help, by accepting it you are putting their lives in danger.”

Dustin and I had promised, a long time ago, that if either of us were to be marked, we would help each other no matter the danger it put us in. Now, I wasn't so sure I wanted to keep that promise. I couldn't put him in danger, but on the other hand it was a terrifying thought that I would be on my own the second I left these walls.

“Now, who can kill you, and who you can kill. The answer to both those questions is anyone. All laws surrounding the crime of murder are lifted by that mark on your face.

If you kill someone, and that person is marked, or has at some point assisted a marked person, money will be automatically transferred onto your pass card. For those of you who have lived under a rock their entire life, a pass card is a marked person's only means of payment. You are forbidden to use currency of any kind, and there is a law prohibiting it. While shop keepers know to only accept your pass cards, they are also forbidden by law to discriminate against you. If you are refused service because of your mark, you may report the person in one of the two government buildings, and action will be taken. These government buildings are safe zones. A marked may not kill another marked within the walls of either this building, or the one on the other side of the river.”

I'd heard stories about these safe zones, but they'd never made complete sense to me. Why didn't people hide out in them all month? It was the perfect strategy.

“I know what you're thinking.” The man must have given this orientation enough times to know our train of thought. “And no. You can not come in here to hide. If a marked enters a government building they must have a legitimate reason to do so. If you do not have one, when asked, remember that half of the people in these buildings are agents.”

He paused for a moment to let it sink in. “You are forbidden to conceal the mark in any way.

The most frequently asked question, I'm sure, is how do I win? Firstly, this is no game. The correct question is, how do I survive. Simply put, you must still be alive at the end of the month. Thirty days from now, if you are still breathing, an agent will find you and bring you back to this building. Here your tattoo will be completed, announcing that you survived.”

Behind him, on the wall, a large image was projected. It was the mark we all now currently sported on our cheeks, but the triangular spaces made by the crossing black lines were filled with red. I'd only seen a few of these in my life. Most who survived chose to leave the city and never come back. Sixteen years old and alone in some strange, future world. I'd feel guilty about leaving my family, but I knew I would. The curiosity was too great.

“At that point, you have a choice. You can leave the city and experience the glory of the outside world, or stay here, with your family. At any time, if you choose to stay, you can change your mind and leave, but once you're gone you can never come back.”

That was strange. I'd heard stories of ex-marked returning from the outside world, but those had obviously just been rumours. If people really had returned, knowledge would have returned with them. And that was something the city absolutely couldn't have.