Queen of Diamonds

Ten Days After The Sorting (Part Two)

Sonya leads me two floors up a concrete staircase, and into an office hallway that looks just like any old building downtown, the kind of place where my parents worked. I feel an ache in my chest thinking about my parents, and I bite down the emotions. Sonya clutches the little ticket Felix gave her tight, crumpling the shiny paper in on itself. I wonder what it is. I wonder what this whole building is. Unlike the rest of the Spade sector, it appears totally normal, if a little bit fancy. It reminds me less of an office building and more of a law firm. But the part of me that got shot at that first day knows that there probably aren't many lawyers in the the Spade sector. Sonya stops in front of a door in the hallway. The little gold plaque next to it says 470. She takes a deep breath, and I'm once again curious why she and Felix seem so on edge. This building seems to be the most trustworthy part of the Spade sector. 

I was prepared for an office, maybe a tall mahogany desk with little trinkets and a nameplate, or a file cabinet. I was not prepared for what I saw. Against the far wall, thick spools of fabric like you would see in a craft store hang on pegs, rippling in the air conditioning. On the opposite wall stands a tall machine that looks like airport security scanner and x-ray machine, beeping quietly. There is a desk, and behind it sits a tall, lanky man with bright blond hair. He has a suit and tie on, but he doesn't look all that much older than Felix. He sits straight up when we enter. 
"Hey, ladies," he says, tucking the file he had been looking at into a drawer of his desk. "What can I do for ya?" Sonya's eyes narrow. 
"We need to get her fitted for a suit," she says, gesturing to me. The man turns to look at me, and I get the eerie feeling that he's looking straight through my clothes, as if sizing up which parts of me would be best to eat. He stands up. 
"Alright, let me get this booted up. You have the crew information?" he asks. Sonya hands him the little slip of paper. He barely gives it a glance before inserting it into a slot in the x-ray machine looking thing. The machine whirs to life, flashing green lasers up and down its length. I step back. 
"Hop in, sweetheart," the man says, gesturing to me. I glance at Sonya. She nods. I take a deep breath and step inside the little glass tube, turning back around to face them. "Arms up," the man says, demonstrating by lifting his own arms over his head. I do as he says, and he hits a few more buttons on the screen. Suddenly the green lights flash on again. I flinch and close my eyes, but try not to move. After a few seconds, they power down, and the man waves me out of the machine. I step out slowly, as the little covered conveyor belt looking machine next to it starts to hum and beep as well. I fall back next to Sonya, and in a few seconds, a gray dress the same cut as Sonya's slides out of the conveyor. The man picks it up, shakes it off, and hands it to me, then hands the little slip of paper from downstairs back to Sonya. 
"That was fast," I remark. 
"Scanning, laser cutting, and glue," the man says with a smirk, "it's a lot faster than sewing."
He reaches behind his desk and grabs a standing partition, which he sets up, and I step behind it and change into my dress. I grabbed a pair of bike shorts before leaving, and I pull those out of my backpack and slide them on underneath before pulling the dress on over my head and reaching behind my neck to pull the zipper up. Despite the laser technology, I'm surprised at how well the dress fits me. It feels like a second skin. I bounce on my toes a few times and do a few stretches. I actually think I could climb in this. I actually think it would be faster than normal clothes. I step out, not trying to hide my smile. The man laughs, but Sonya smiles back.
"You look great," she said, and I have to admit that I feel great. Between my new haircut and my new dress, I feel like an all new, all better version of myself. I actually don't want to take the dress off, which is never a feeling I thought I would have in the Spade sector. But I guess a pair of cargo pants and an Acrobat's crew uniform are two different things. 

We tuck the dress away in my bag, and Sonya checks her little gps device. 
"We should hurry," she says, "we have one more stop." She leads me a little bit further down the hall, to door 489. Once again, she opens the door and steps aside to let me through first. This room is more what I expected, a simple office. The only thing out of the ordinary is a what looks like a printer on the center of the desk. The woman behind the desk barely looks up when we enter. 
"Crew slip?" she asks, holding out her hand. Sonya deposits the now very crumpled piece of paper in it. The woman, like the man from the other office, slides it into a slot in the printer, and hist a few buttons. I lean a little closer, trying to figure out what she's doing. After a few seconds, the printer spits out a piece of paper with a palm sized symbol on it. The same symbol that Felix drew on me in sharpie the day of the Sorting. The same one that everyone else has tattooed on their arms. I start to realize what this is
"A tattoo?" I ask, taking a step back. "Absolutely not." The woman looks put out, glancing at Sonya like she expects her to hold me down or something. 
"Look, Noh, it won't hurt or anything. And it's not even technically a tattoo. If you wanted to get it removed, you could." The woman huffs at this, and some part of me wonders why. 
"Why do I even need one?" I demand. The woman huffs again. 
"Because you're part of a crew," Sonya says, "and crew members get tattoos." She's staring deep into my eyes, and I get the feeling that I'm going to get nowhere with her. She did say that it would be removable, right? And I already have my Soul Mark, what's one more marking on my body? I stick out my other arm, but rather than pull out a needle like I've seen in movies, the woman simply flips the paper over and sets it on my arm and sprays it with a spray bottle , like a temporary tattoo. I look at Sonya, and I must look surprised, because she says, "That's not your ordinary printer." The woman pulls out a flashlight and holds it above the paper, turning it on to reveal that it's actually a blacklight. She holds it above my arm for a few seconds, and the only think I feel is a gentle tingling. But when the woman pulls the paper away, I have a brand new tattoo, a little rat chasing its tail. I am officially a member of the Rats. 

We meet Felix in the lobby, next to the same kiosk we left him at. Sonya unzips the backpack and shows him the sleeve of my dress. 
"Show him your arm," she says, and I stick my hand out, flipping it over so the little rat is visible. If Felix is happy, he doesn't show it, his stone cold features staying locked in place. 
"She's registered under Dagger now, and I got all the paperwork filled out," he says. It takes me a second to realize what he said. Dagger. That's my crew name. Like how Hugo is Fury or Felix is Smoke. I'm Dagger. It feels right somehow. I'm pondering my new name, when somewhere nearby, alarms start blare. They get louder and louder, filling my ears. I look round at Felix and Sonya. Their faces are contorted in worry. 
"Lockdown," Felix says, cursing under his breath. "Get her out." I realize he's talking to Sonya about me. 
"Nova, come on," Sonya starts, grabbing my arm. 
"You know that's not what I meant," Felix hisses, pulling out a little comm device. Sonya gives him her steeliest glare, but steps behind me and puts a hand on the back of my neck. 
"Wha-" I ask.
"Some day you'll learn that orders are orders," she whispers, and I feel a small pain at the base of my neck. The last thing I remember is Sonya frowning down at me, and I slip into shadows.