The clinking of metal forks on ceramic plateware dances in my ears, transforming into white noise, as I eat a slice of ham, smothered in a semi-sweet sauce, surrounded by my fellow arbiters. We remain silent during our meal—pointless conversation is not encouraged. My eyes flicker to Commander Vye's chair as it sits alone and vacant among the monotony of our breakfast routine. Where is she? Most days, she is here, eating with us, making certain that we follow protocol and do not forget our place, but this particular morning, she has been difficult to locate, making her absence all the more mysterious and unsettling. Did something happen to her? Am I going to end up with a new mentor? I hope not. I have just memorized her eccentricities: what angers her and what pleases her, enough so that I should be able to navigate through the rest of this year without garnering her wrath too much.
I finish my last forkful of ham and drain my glass of water, wishing I could have some of that cranberry juice that was served at the banquet, but sugary drinks are not allowed for arbiters and our caloric intake is monitored. Though, judging by the beginnings of a round stomach on some, it does not stop them from sneaking in a few treats, and I know where I can go to get some juice if I wish. I just need to be careful not to overdo it, since I need to be certain that I can pass my biannual physical. Every arbiter is required to do a physical twice a year to ensure that we are maintaining our physical strength and well-being. I scoot away from the table, plopping my fork on my plate—a plebeian snatches it and wipes the area with a warm, moist, white towel—and leave the dining area, meandering into the corridor and to the lounge room, not knowing where I am to be assigned today: Commander Vye has neglected to inform me of it.
Where is she?
Changing my mind, I veer from the lounge area and creep over to her office. Most do not go near it, unless they have been summoned, or have something to report, as it is best to leave her alone when she has confined herself in there, but curiosity is difficult to ignore and shove aside sometimes. Muffled voices spill from the cracked door to her office, intensifying as I draw closer, remaining in the shadows, not wanting to be caught by another arbiter or accused of spying, even though I am snooping. I peek through the crack and see footage playing on the wall monitor of the riot that took place a few days ago. I watch as images of people brawling or maiming one another repeat themselves, remarking at how watching it on a screen is very different from being caught in it.
"You can see why our presidents and the council are concerned."
I freeze the moment I hear the man within her office speak. Molers. I thought I had left him behind at the training facility when I passed the gauntlet and received my assignment. What is he doing here?
"Yes, I can," Commander Vye replies in a cold voice of her own.
"This is the fifth riot in the last three months," says Molers.
"I'll handle it."
"Like how you are handling them now?"
"Are you questioning my methods?" demands Commander Vye. "I have been in charge of the security of the eastern sector for twenty-three years, and in all that time, we have had relative peace and stability."
"Relative being the operative word here," says Molers, "and in the last few years, that stability has been shaky at best."
"Perhaps if the council would let us rebuild our most important facilities: hospices, schools, factories—perhaps, then, we would see less unrest."
"Are you questioning the council?" The dangerous undertone in Molers' voice unnerves me.
"Stating a fact. We bear the brunt of these attacks, and our sector is always under a state of constant ruin because of it."
"It is up to the representative of this sector to... oh, that's right. You had him arrested and executed."
"He broke the law, and no one is above it?"
"I understand, of course. You were merely doing your duty."
"He was sent to the fields, not executed."
"Same result in the end."
"I'm sure that he has already been replaced."
"For now. If you are unable to control these riots."
"They will be contained."
I imagine the scowl on Commander Vye's face as she mouths those words to Molers.
"I hope so," says Molers, "For your sake."
The false sympathy in his voice spills from his words and I know he has something planned. All my life I have known him, and not once in those 18 years did he ever exhibit affection for anything or anyone other than himself, and he always had a contingency plan to achieve what he wanted, I just wonder what it is he is after here in the eastern sector. Most people try to get to the northern or western sector as they are more luxurious, so what is his interest here?
"One other thing," Molers says. "Why was Mandi here in the eastern sector?"
"I wouldn't know," replies Commander Vye.
"You did not demand to know?"
"Of course I did, but I am a Commander and she is a Major. She outranks me and you know it. In fact, why are you asking me questions for which you already know the answer?"
"See to it that these riots are under control, or you might find yourself in a different position."
Molers heads for the door and I dart away from it, scurrying down the hall and hiding behind a corner, hoping that I was not seen or heard. I peek around the wall edge as Molers exits Commander Vye's office and stomps down the corridor in the opposite direction, passing through the entrance doors and to the outside world. A lump forms in my throat, and the thought of him being here, or worse, staying here, frightens me.
Commander Vye steps out of her office and screams, "Noni!"
Not wanting to be caught crouching behind this corner, as I know what will happen to me if I am, I creep down the hall, away from the corner and to a door that leads to another room, which I pass through, and reenter the same hallway on the other side of Commander Vye.
"NONI!"
I hurry up to my commanding officer and stop in front of her, saluting her.
"What took you so long?" she demands, her foul mood evident, and I know who gave it to her.
I say nothing, recognizing this to be a rhetorical question and apologies show weakness.
Before Commander Vye can say anything, an arbiter hurries up to us. "Excuse, commander, but there is someone here to see you. It is urgent."
Her eyes flare in annoyance, but Commander Vye strides through the manor and into the foyer, with me trailing behind her, to see who has summoned her immediate attention. Standing in the middle of the grand room is Mandi, accompanied by two plebeians: a boy about my age and a girl who seems to be ten years younger than him. The girl hides behind Mandi, but the male stands to the side and defiance fills his face, while Mandi waits in that patient manor of hers.
"Major," says Commander Vye in a more respectful tone, compared to the one she used the day of the riot, "what might I do for you?"
"I am here to deliver to you two new plebeians," replies Mandi. "Their owner has died and they have been assigned here."
"I do not need more plebeians," says Commander Vye.
"Were you asked if you needed them?"
Commander Vye swallows back her retort, knowing what happens when one challenges assignments made by the regulatory boards of Arel.
"Sheila!"
The same plebeian girl who swept up a pile of paint chips on the day I first arrived here ran up to Commander Vye with bits of her hair spilling from the braid she kept it in.
"Take these two to the plebeian quarters and assign them duties."
As they walk past, I realize that I have seen those two before. The girl was the one reprimanded by Molers on the night of the banquet for failing in her duties, and the male had wanted to do something, but Mandi had stopped him. Yet, something else seems familiar about the girl, but I cannot place it, and all plebeians look the same anyway.
"I thank you for bringing them here," Commander Vye says to Mandi, "but another arbiter, one of lesser rank, could have done the job."
"There was no point in pulling a man from his duties to do a task that I can do. I am being assigned to a post outside the wall. It was no trouble for me to bring them here on my way out."
"Is there anything else, Major?"
"No, that will be all." Mandi moves toward the door.
"Good luck with your assignment, Major."
Pausing, Mandi gives Commander Vye a sardonic smile before looking in my direction and leaving.
After Mandi has gone, Commander Vye turns toward me and says, "Grab your things. We're late."
Late? Late for what?
I check my belt and make certain that I have my firearm, baton, and the other items that arbiters are required to carry with them at all times when on duty.
"No need, ma'am," I say, standing at attention, showing Commander Vye that I already have everything and hoping to impress her, "I am ready to proceed when you are."
Her lips remain in a firm line and the scowl never leaves her face, a side effect from her morning encounter with Molers. "Come along. Lieutenant Renal."
As we march out the door, Renal drops the kale wrap he had been about to eat and runs out of the dining room, hurrying after us. None of us say a word as we follow Commander Vye to one of the stops for the trolley, hopping on it and taking it to the northern side of the eastern sector to a place where three cylindrical smokestacks form an ordered line with clouds of white smoke floating from their tops and vanishing in the sky. We have travelled to a factory.