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The Liberation

By Marissa Shrock

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There are always battles on the journey to a happy ending, and Emancipation Warriors Agent Jethro Portner was my first.
“You gotta know, Miss Wilkins, that ’cause of your background, I ain’t thrilled about having you at my training camp.” Jethro’s gunmetal eyes stared me down and made me thankful his spotless desk provided a barrier between us.
After all the information I’d supplied his organization because of my hacking, he should be ecstatic, but I bit my tongue and met his gaze. How old was he? At least forty judging from his bald spot and the white hairs that frosted his sideburns. A gold chain embellished his neck, and a snake tattoo curled around his forearm and bicep.
My skin crawled.
Jethro chomped a wad of gum before continuing in his gravelly voice. “However, Agent Freeman recommends you, and since he’s one of our best, I’m trusting him. It don’t hurt you got information that’ll clear the Warriors of involvement in President Hernandez’s assassination.”
“And the attempt on my mother’s life.”
“Right.” Jethro’s chair screeched. “’Nough about that. I got stuff we need to discuss.”
“Okay.” Being cooperative would get me out of here faster, so I could fight in the revolution against the United Regions of North America’s corrupt government.
“You need a new alias. Your first got blown. Now you’ll be twenty-three-year-old Fredrica Lloyd.”
I nodded. The name sounded cool.
“Second, you gotta understand the objective of this camp.” Jethro cleared his throat. “It ain’t preparing folks for combat or restoration. We train for liberation.”
“Of prisoners?”
“Right. The government stuck so many citizens in prison under that ridiculous Peace and Unity Act that we gotta have lots of liberation agents. It’s one of the Warriors’ most dangerous assignments.” Jethro extended his palm. “Gimme your courier.”
“Why?” I clutched the device the Warriors used to communicate securely with each other without the government knowing.
He bristled. “If you’re gonna stay here, you gotta obey orders. Without explanation.”
I slapped it into his palm. Jethro rested his courier on top of mine. A few seconds later, he returned it. “There’s a schedule and a dossier for your new identity. Read it. Memorize it. Destroy it. Don’t be late for training tomorrow morning.”
I started to stand.
“Sit.” His bicep twitched, causing the snake to appear as if it were snatching prey. “Never leave ’til you’re dismissed. Got it?”
“Yes sir.” My face grew warm.
“I’d better see you following rules. Like everyone else.”
I told myself the less trouble I caused, the faster I could graduate and help Ben.
“If you wanna be an agent, then you gotta impress me.” Jethro smirked. “I get the final decision on whether or not you get outta camp. And how soon.”
Judging from his expression, I might never leave.
“I told ya how I feel about you being here. You got attitude. You’re young. You gotta have stuff your way.” He paused and leaned back in his chair. “You think the time you spent hiding out playing hacker and that rogue mission with Ben Lagarde qualify you for agent status.”
I didn’t, but he seemed pretty confident in his ability as a mind reader. I raised my eyebrows.
“They don’t.” Jethro’s eyes grew icy. “Got it?”
“Yes sir.”
He gripped the edge of his desk. “Time for a polygraph.” He stood. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Jethro led me to a small room dominated by a metal and glass tube. His hand flicked an impatient wave toward the machine, and he took a seat behind a desk. The tube’s door yawned, and I shuffled inside. Two orange footprints adorned the rubber-coated floor, so I moved my feet into place, facing Jethro. To my left was a mirror on the wall. I examined it. Was someone else watching?
“Nobody’s back there,” Jethro said.
The tube’s glass door hissed closed, encasing me. Two light beams, one red and one blue, pierced my right and left sides as if they could siphon the truth from me. What were the lights for? A low hum buzzed, and I glanced upward. A cap descended from the tube’s ceiling. Goose bumps pebbled my arms when the cap hovered within centimeters of my hair. Could it read my mind?
“Chill.” Jethro’s voice boomed through speakers. “What you’re seeing is the latest in our illustrious government’s polygraph technology. This ain’t your grandma’s poly, so get used to it if you wanna work as an agent.”
“Let’s get this over with.”
“Not so fast. You gotta know how it works. The red beam’s monitoring your heart rate and blood pressure. The blue your respiration.”
“And the thing on my head?”
“I was getting to that.” He scowled. “The cap monitors your body for minute physical changes related to body temperature. You so much as perspire one drop, that thing’ll pick it up.” He launched his wad of gum at the trash incinerator. “Sometimes people tell white lies, like if your friend gets a nasty haircut and you tell her it’s cute. Your body always has a physiological response any time you lie. But. This machine don’t know the difference between white lies and the big ones. So ya better tell the truth.”
Fabulous.
“This test’ll be a baseline to tell me how much deception training you need.” He typed something and then looked up. “We gotta make sure the machine’s working right. Look at the display in front of you.” The monitor lit. “Pick a number, and write it with your left hand.”
I wrote a seven.
From his seat, he scrawled the numbers five, six, eight, and nine on the screen to the left and right of my seven. “When I ask you if you wrote one of the numbers, you gotta answer no. When I get to seven, look at the number, think about writing it, and answer no.”
He asked the questions, and I answered no to all of them. This was weird.
Jethro looked up. “I’ve got the instrument adjusted. Now, I’m gonna start with a few questions. Answer like you’re trying to pass this poly in order to infiltrate the government. Ready?”
“Yeah.” My stomach quavered, and a few seconds later, his mouth flattened.
“Today Monday?”
“Yes.”
“Ever lied to your parents?”
“Yes.”
“Ever stolen money?”
“No.”
“Ever cheated on a test?”
I hesitated. Why did that matter? “No.”
Jethro stood and walked from the room. What was he thinking? Was I doing okay? I tapped my foot against the orange footprint. I had to pass so I could help Ben. A few minutes later, Jethro returned. “Let’s go on.”
“Are the lights on in here?”
I frowned. What did that have to do with anything? “Yes.”
“You planning to answer each question truthfully?”
“Yes.”
“You the kind of person who’d betray a family member?”
I pictured my mother. “No.”
“Ever committed an act of espionage against the United Regions of North America?”
Now these were the questions I’d expected. “No.” Did hacking into government databases count?
“Is it August?”
“Yes.” Weird.
“You ever been associated with anyone in the rebel movement?”
“No.” I swallowed.
“You promise to swear allegiance to the United Regions of North America and her leader, President Cleatus Fortune?”
Fortune was a reptile. “Yes.”
The red and blue light beams disappeared, tube’s door slid open, and the cap ascended. “That’s it for tonight,” Jethro said.
“Did I pass?” I slipped from my glass prison and peered over his shoulder.
Jethro’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “If you become a liberation agent, you might have to go undercover and apply for a government job. They’ll grill ya like that for hours.” He pointed to the data on the monitor. “You’re one of the worst liars I’ve ever met.”

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