The Five Unnecessaries

Chapter 14

A few days later, I went for a run even before Collin came into my Circle. I messaged him as the sun was rising, telling him where I was so he wouldn't worry. A pang hit my heart; soon, he wouldn't know where I was for days, maybe weeks on end.

I pushed it out of my mind, along with the fear of failure since, for the first time since I'd arrived, I felt like I might succeed at something. I still struggled to understand Tech, but Collin kept re-wording things until they made sense and taking me to Secondary Central with Sam to try some new techniques. I had completed the last of my Common Phrases lessons while running, doing push-ups, and during lie detection testing yesterday—which made it extra difficult, but invigorating at the same time.

Before putting the MCU down, I realized how comfortably it rested in my hand. How familiar it was to go for a run outside of my Circle. How much I now knew the person I'd just messaged. My arm twinged, letting me remember how sore my muscles were. Despite my proficiency, Dance 5 had proven to be more challenging than I imagined. I didn't even know I had muscles in places that were hurting. I wrote that in my journal quickly while lacing up my shoes, hoping it would make another 27th Protector laugh someday.

My private lessons were taught by Faith Bakerson, one of the few HistCulture instructors I got to meet in person. The last of the HistCulture videos were due this week, which I was dreading. I had mentioned I might go crazy with my overloaded schedule, and Faith asked Collin if I needed a break.

"Depends. What did you have in mind?" he had responded.

"Well, tomorrow we are going out with Brie to interview some saved Unnecessaries. I realized you've never been to the shelter. You missed the last trip, which was good because you rescued Brie and Lynn," Faith said. "You could come."

I gave Collin a "please, please" look, and he said it would be more beneficial than more push-ups. So, he had changed our itinerary, moving my run to dawn.

By ten o'clock, we were strapping into the private shuttle headed to the shelter. Brie was there to visit one of her rescued children, who she had missed on the field test with Lynn. She shared some stories on the way.

"So, why are kids born from Vessels integrated into our society, but most Unnecessaries are sent out here?" I asked.

"The main reason is that they've received enough rejection from society, so even the normal peer rejection of childhood would be too painful," Brie said, looking out the window. It was difficult to read her emotions, but from her tone, I didn't think she agreed.

"It seems harsh," Collin added, "but they need to build up their self-worth and learn some cultural customs, so they're more likely to succeed in the Territory. They need mental health tools to help them cope with what they've been through."

"But it's almost like we're ashamed of them, too," I said. "Like we don't want the responsibility of compassion for them."

"I realize that," Collin sighed. "But these aren't resilient kids, Aislyn. They have patterns of thinking that are harmful to themselves or others."

The driver announced we were almost there. I stared out the window. I realized how quickly it was coming, and for some reason, being on a shuttle again reminded me that in four or five weeks, I might be on a shuttle home with a Vessel.

When we arrived and opened the door, there were screams, hugs, and flowers in a flurry of arms I didn't expect. Kids surrounded us. One asked me for my photo, another for my autograph, and another asked what kind of shampoo I use.

"Whatever is in the bottle," I said. I kept walking quickly as Collin laughed, pulling me through the mob.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in the sun, in the glow that shimmered off dandelion fuzzies as they swam by in the wind, being carried to infest their garden. It was a stark contrast to the grey stone that had surrounded me for the last few weeks.