Birthright

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The first thing Kray became aware of when he woke up was the overpowering urge to vomit. Rolling out of bed, he threw up what little food was left in his stomach. He pressed a hand to his ribcage in the process and felt an unfamiliar bulge beneath his skin.

Horrified, he glanced down and saw two small rings on either side of his lower torso. They had placed a foreign device inside him. The thought made him sick, and he heaved again.

Conversation in the block ended abruptly. "Take deep breaths!" One of his block-mates called out.

Kray sucked in a long breath and swallowed to alleviate the burning rawness in his throat. "What's happening to me?" he asked thickly.

"It's the aftereffects of the inhibitors." Kray recognized Carter's voice. "It happens the first time—your body will get used to it."

Between the cold, the drowsiness and the gagging, he was dizzy with weakness and he curled up on the floor, huddling into a ball and shivering uncontrollably. The smell of vomit was strong in his nostrils.

Eventually, the reaction to the inhibitors faded away, and Kray became aware that the boys were talking amongst themselves. "It costs twenty five dollars in Hendrick," Shane was saying. "You can get four of them for eighty."

Kray recognized the name of the northern city in Saranth and wondered what they were talking about. The thought immediately left his mind when his stomach rumbled.

Drawing himself up on his feet, he wiped his mouth and stumbled over to the hidden compartment.

Instead of finding the plate he had seen earlier, there was a large bucket filled with water and a washcloth next to it. His thirst overrode all thought. He dipped his hand in the bucket and began to drink.

A second later, Kray spit out the bitter liquid. Frustration marked his features when he turned around to face the others. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, an accusing finger pointed at the items.

"Sorry, mate." Carter shrugged. "The Heads expect us to keep our cells clean."

"You earn your meals," Orkoy added.

The idea was so ridiculous that, for a long moment, Kray could only stare dumbly. Hadn't he earned his meals already by giving his Sen? And did these Heads really expect him to start cleaning the mess in his cell right after they'd made him violently ill? Without giving him nourishment that would give him the required energy? The cruelty was so unparalleled that he wondered if it was a joke.

Anger blinded him. He grabbed the bucket and heaved it against the glass wall before him. The sound of the metal hitting the glass rang through his cell and cold liquid splashed all over him.

Breathing heavily, he curled up on his bed and squeezed his eyes shut. Kill me now, he thought, his chest constricted with despair. I can't deal with this for three more weeks.

"Listen, Kray," Carter said. "We all know how bad you feel right now—we've all been there. I'm not tryin' to be insensitive, but you have to be strong. You can't win by refusin' to cooperate with these people. They don't care if you try to starve yourself. They only need your Sen and they'll get it even if they have to feed you through a tube. That's what they did to a boy who lived in my town. The whole deal was a lot worse for him because of it."

Shane joined in. "Cart's right. Once you give up, things will only get worse. Don't let them break your Sanser spirit."

Sanser spirit? The phrase meant nothing to him. "I don't like being a Sanser."

A note of incredulity entered Shane's voice. "You can't give up your identity because of this."

"I've already lost my identity," Kray snapped angrily. He rolled over to face the wall, turning his back to his block-mate. "If this is what it means to be a Sanser, I don't want it."