Dissolution

Chapter 3 - The Auctioning

"Twenty-four thousand, two hundred and fifty," someone called out from PERCO. The numbers over David's face updated. There was a brief conference amongst the HARLIN suits, all ducked heads and waving hands. And then the lead bidder shook his head.

The Auctioneer straightened. "Going once," she said. She paused. "Going twice." Nothing. "Sold, to PERCO Agriculture Limited for twenty-four thousand, two hundred and fifty credits!"

My gut twisted with horror and sympathy. I couldn't imagine being valued below thirty thousand credits. David looked like he'd been hit by a hovercar. Security came from behind the screen to lead him off the stage, but then he had to stumble by himself all the way to the back where the kids who had already been Auctioned stood. Some of them were happy, but it was easier to see the ones that weren't. The ones choking on muffled tears, or turned away, or even just watching the Auctioning with faces so blank they scared me.

I turned back to the stage, my heart hammering. I was so tense I felt like one wrong move would snap me in half. I wished they would call me. But I had no idea when they would. None of us did. They randomly generated the order each time. After David they called up Pian-Ling from MERCE. Then Huon from DRAYTH Industries. It was all brutally efficient. I could see that the suits had all of our data arrayed on the screens around them, churning through formulas that told them how high to bid or whether or not to bid at all. I fixed my eyes on the MERCE UConns and prayed, focusing so hard that I almost didn't notice Eleika get called.

"Eleika!" I lunged for her hand, managing to grab it again before she moved away. "Good luck."

She looked back at me like I was a stranger. Her eyes were glassy, as if she was being chased. She nodded once, mute, and then let go. She was shaking when she got to the stage. Worse, I saw that she knew she was shaking, but she couldn't stop. I swallowed around a suddenly dry mouth. What would I be like when my turn came? Would I shake too? Would I burst into tears if nobody bid, or if nobody bid high enough? Or would I just stand there, mute and stricken, until the Auctioneer called security to lead me away?

The Auctioneer looked down at her UConn and cleared her throat. "Eleika Anron, license number 92841XC. Starting at forty-four thousand, two hundred and forty-nine!"

I smiled up at her, hoping she could see me. But she stared right past me. Over me. The collar around her neck gleamed. A man from DRAYTH Industries raised his hand first. "Forty-five thousand!"

Eleika looked like she'd been hit across the face. I stopped breathing. For a terrible moment I thought that that was it, and then a woman from PERCO waved back. "Forty-five thousand, three hundred and fifty!"

I started breathing again. I scanned the other groups desperately. But none of them were looking at their UConns anymore. They were sitting back, stretching, joking. Bored. Eleika's data must have run through their formulas and come up . . . lacking. It was between PERCO and DRAYTH.

Eleika's face had drained of blood. Under the Auctioning lights, she looked like she was cut out of paper. The numbers came like the echoes of a gunshot.

"Forty-five thousand, five hundred!"

"Forty-five thousand, six hundred and fifty!"

"Forty-five thousand, eight hundred!"

"Forty-six thousand!"

"Forty-six thousand, three hundred and fifty!"

Silence. DRAYTH's offer was still written over Eleika's face. I fisted my hands in my jacket and leaned forward, willing PERCO to respond. The woman from PERCO turned, spoke to someone, and then shook her head.

The Auctioneer's voice sounded like it came from far away, like it wasn't real.

"Going once!"

I turned away.

"Going twice!"

I couldn't watch this.

"Sold, to DRAYTH Industries Limited for forty-six thousand, three hundred and fifty!"

I caved and looked back at the stage, just in time to see Eleika collapse.

The Auctioning rolled on. Faces showed up on the screen, crying, smiling. Numbers were called out, meaningless. Everything blurred together. The empty chair where Eleika had been sitting next to me burned with the reminder of what could happen. Her eyes as she'd been helped off the stage haunted me. I was sick with grief for her and worry for myself. I wished they'd call me already. It had been almost three hours. I looked around. Most of us were gone. There had been three hundred and sixty-seven of us. Now there was only maybe twenty-three, kicking their feet, going pale in the darkness.

Then twenty-two.

Then seventeen.

Number fifteen went for a century to MERCE. There was a shocked silence, and then applause rattled through the hall. I didn't know her, but if I could have sold anything at that moment to be her, I would have. Surely MERCE would still have budget for me?

Thirteen.

Twelve.

Six.

The Auctioneer was flagging. She'd been standing for hours in those heels. Her fingers kept going to her white collar, clutching at the edges as if they were keeping her upright. I was hunched like a little girl now, holding myself together by my knees so I wouldn't shake myself apart. Come on. Come on.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

I was the last one in the stalls. I had to be next. My palms sprouted sweat as I stood, ready to walk down. My legs shook. I felt fear and exhilaration pump through my veins. This was it. Finally . . .

The Auctioneer cleared her throat. "And that closes the Auctioning for this year," she said. Her voice was hoarse now, spent. "Thank you all for coming."

I stopped. Shock snapped through my system. Time slowed. A good five to ten seconds passed where I just stared as the suits started moving, packing up, stretching, heading toward that back door. Then the words burst out from nowhere.

"Wait!" I cried. My voice cracked. "Wait!"

The Auctioneer turned. I zoomed in automatically and saw the surprise tightening her eyes. She hadn't seen me. My heart gave an awful lurch. "Wait, please," I said stupidly. "I . . . I haven't been Auctioned yet."

She stared at me with a puzzled frown, and then she glanced down at her UConn. Behind her, the suits were still leaving. I took a few shaky steps forward. If they left I wouldn't get a good price. I might not get any price. "Wait!" I pleaded again. But this time, I wasn't sure if anyone heard me.

Long moments passed as the Auctioneer checked her screen. I watched every flicker of her eyelids, saw the moment that her face froze abruptly. But when she looked up, her expression was so neutral my heart sank.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You're not on the list."

I found out then, in front of three hundred and sixty-six kids, in front of the contingents of all the Corporations in Unilox and one thin-lipped Auctioneer, exactly the sort of person that I was.

The type of person who turned and ran.