The Elites

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Physical punishment was one thing but the punishment of being alone? The constant whispers, glares and avoidance? Elites did not care, Elites were made constant. So why is it throughout the week of my punishment, I noticed the difference in how they treated me.

I noticed a lot of things. As a part of The Force, the key to winning battles was noticing things about your opponent. The moves they made, the tells they showed, the expression just before they struck; all this I did better than the others. I knew this because they resented me for winning my battles, for taking down my opponent. Every time.

Just as well, I noticed the lingering gazes from a particular leader. His gaze burning into me when I had my back turned but never catching my eyes again.

"I don't think you will ever learn your lesson." I snapped out of my thoughts to look at Derrick standing in front of me with a scowl on his face. He looked menacing. What had I done to elicit this much of a reaction from him, even before my... rebellion?

I shuddered as the thought crossed my mind. Humans rebelled. Not us.

"But I am an Elite of my word. Your week of punishment may be over but don't think the next time you step out of line that I won't report to the Elders. Just imagine what they could do to you." With that threat, Derrick walked away.

I could not imagine what the Elders would have done if Derrick reported to them. How harsh would have been my punishment despite no written laws on crossing 'the line' to the other side. I had never seen them punish anyone as no one dared to make mistakes.

Mistakes were made by humans.

Yet the threat of what they were capable of, the unknown was much worse and it worked brilliantly in keeping us all in line, keeping us ordered, not that it was required as such. Elites were a race made ordered, predictable... unlike the unpredictability of humans. Maybe that's what made them what they were: humans.

Was that what made them... intriguing to me? Their unpredictability, their chaos? I knew these thoughts were dangerous as an Elite and I feared my view on humans may be found out - I didn't have one. I've never met one. I just found myself thinking about them more often than not. And yet, the Elites were going against the humans in a war, having never seen, let alone touched one.

Did they know we were coming? Did they know about us? From the radio, even their 'news' did not mention us.

I looked towards the storage door on the other side as we all ambled out of the classroom. Today was indoor teaching and so the classrooms were being used. It did not help the rain poured outside like a punishment, taking away our time to be more prepared for war with the humans. But come rain or hail, nothing was going to stop us.

My eyes connected with Iver over the crowd of both The Force and The Intelligence and I could not take my eyes away. How long had it been since I last saw his blue eyes? His face was carefully blank, as any other Elite, but this time I felt his effort in doing so, as if it did not come naturally to him as it should.

I did not realise I had stopped walking until only the last of the Elites trickled out of the classroom. Derrick was long gone at least. I broke eye contact with him as I slowly made my way behind The Force, Iver step-by-step with me. Just before we rounded the corner, something brushed my hand.

I jumped. Elites do not get surprised. Certainly, The Force did not get surprised. We were always ready, sleeping with one eye open, always on the alert. I snapped my gaze towards Iver who looked on straight ahead and continued walking.

With haste, I made my way to my room and slammed the door shut, my breathing heavy. Looking down at my hand, I saw the small piece of paper Iver had inconspicuously put in my hand. My hand trembled slightly as I unfolded the piece of paper. There was only one word written in blank ink:

Tomorrow.

Frowning, I sat down on my bed. Tomorrow? What was tomorrow? Was he going to be reporting to the Elders tomorrow? My breathing sped up as I thought about this possibility but then discarded it. If he was going to report to the Elders, why wait this long and why give me a piece of paper in secret?

As I held onto this confusion, I lay down in bed staring at the piece of paper and as sleep consumed me, I felt the ghostly brush of his fingers across my palm from when he had given me the paper.

Tomorrow. 

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