The Variables

Grant walked down the hall to escape the congregation and rested against the corner. He pushed his hands in his pockets and looked at the ceiling, hoping that no one would notice him. He didn’t have anywhere to go.

“Ryley isn’t back, sir,” a young man named Jorge said to Mick, rushing up from down the hall, holding his standard-issue rifle across his arm.

“Is that bad?” Blair asked, immediately entering the conversation at full-speed. She tugged on Frank’s collar and pushed on his rump. “Sit, Frank. Sit.” Frank barked.

“I bet he’s just being thorough,” Mick replied, shrugging. He checked his gun and then holstered it.

Nate approached and cleared his throat. “Ready for the a

Mick’s head shot up and he sca

“Jesus, Nate,” Mick chastised in a loud whisper. “We have civilians in the hall.”

Their voices died away. Grant peered out again. The guards marched past.

Blair took a step forward after they cleared. “Maybe you should see where Ryley is? Maybe remind him that he’s supposed to be back?” She looked at the boys pleadingly.

“Sure,” Nate replied and he tossed his walkie-talkie to Jorge who caught it and sighed.

“Attention Guard Command Three. Please finish up your sweep and return to the Center for operation King’s Box. I repeat, finish up your sweep and report to the lab to be equipped for operation King’s Box.” Jorge tossed the walkie-talkie back. “Is that better, Blair?”

“Sure,” she shrugged with a smile. “I want this all to go well just as much as you do.”

Grant slid away and sat down again.

The guards marched up and down the hall from the end closest to the elevators to the end closest to the exit from the theater room. Four of them marched together, and they never looked up the hallway to Scott’s lab to see Grant sitting there, waiting for the rest of his Copia compatriots to arrive.

Blair walked around the corner with Frank and she jumped a bit. She eyed Grant with suspicion and concern.

“I didn’t see you there,” she said quickly. “How long have you been here?”

Grant shrugged and smiled. “Just waiting,” he said. “Eager.”

She didn’t reply. Frank wandered down toward him and barked once. Reaching out, Grant gave him a small scratch behind the ears and the dog responded by licking his palm in long slurps. It tickled Grant’s hand and he smiled. Mick rounded the corner and looked at Grant.

“You’re everywhere, Grant Trotter,” he said with a hint of a

“I don’t have anywhere—” Grant started, but he realized that Mick wasn’t listening.

“It’s time, Blair. I need to start the call for the Copia residents to arrive for their briefing. You ready?”

She shook her head and looked confused. Looking down at Grant, she handed him Frank’s leash. “Hold this,” she instructed, and she turned back to Mick. “You should let me try,” she said.

“Try what?” Mick asked, distracted.

“Let me try to get Ryley on the radio.” She held out her hand. “Maybe I’ll have better luck getting him back...since his absence here is a clear breach of my father’s protocol.”

“What?” Mick stared at her. “A breach of your father’s...Blair...listen...we’re about to call the Copia residents to the Center.” He looked at Grant and then looked at her. “Time’s up, sweetie. Ryley’s probably off dealing with some Copia-related issue. Maybe he’s taking a dump. Does it even matter? He’ll be back. I’m not wasting time on him. Protocol. Who gave you the right to assume what our protocol should be?”

“My father gave me the right,” Blair answered. “I have the ultimate power and authority here.”

Grant wished he could disappear into the wall. He fiddled with Frank’s leash.

Blair held out her hand. She kept her hand out until Mick put the radio in her palm. He crossed his arms and chewed his gum like cud.

Clicking on the walkie-talkie, Blair cleared her throat, and mustered up her most professional sounding voice. “We are missing Private Ryley. Private Ryley, we are ten minutes away from needing you at the starting point for our operation. Please report to the lab.”

She went to go hand the radio back to Mick, but then she snatched it back at the last minute and added, “This is Blair.”

“Good,” Mick sneered. “I’m sure Private Ryley is now busting his ass just for you, Blair Truman.”

Nate poked his head around the corner. “You ready, boss?”

Mick jabbed his thumb toward Blair. “We would be if our ultimate power and authority could start thinking of something else besides Ryley’s current whereabouts.”

Nate snickered. A few other guards congregated and watched the spectacle. Grant felt his face flash hot with embarrassment for her. He continued to study the floor and pet Frank’s neck, with the hopes that no one would draw him into the conversation.

“She had to radio him herself,” Mick said and he crossed his arms.

“That’s so warm and fuzzy. Extend a girl a hand and win her heart,” Nate teased. “I bet Ryley’s overjoyed that Blair needs his presence.”

The guys laughed. A man with bright red hair and a cross tattoo on his neck leaned over to another guard and said, “Oh yeah, now that Blair needs me, I’ll be sure to make sure I do my job now.”

The laughter died away and Blair’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. She spun, looking for a friendly face, and found none; even Grant looked away when she looked down. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and she tried to wipe them away quickly, but everyone saw that she had let them get to her. She was trapped in the hallway—Scott’s lab on one end and the mocking guards at the other. Grant stood up. He put a hand on her arm.

“What?” she snapped, expecting more vitriol.

“Maybe something is wrong,” Grant said in a near-whisper. She hung on to his every word like he could be the one to save her from the mortification. “My roommate Dylan would never go off the grid in a time of great importance.”

“The call for Copia is going out in ten, nine, eight...” someone counted down from down the hall. Mick grumbled and took off, his shoulder hitting Blair as he went. She brought her hand up to her shoulder and kept it there.

“You have no right to be here,” Blair said to Grant with sharp condemnation.

“I’m sorry,” Grant said instantly. “I just—”

Blair raised the radio to her lips once again and said, shakier this time, “Private Ryley. We don’t want to continue without you, but—”

The steady alarm interrupted her.

“All Copia residents please report to The Center for briefing. All Copia residents please report to The Center for a housing briefing.”

Grant still held tightly to Frank as the beeping filled the halls. He realized that he had left his poster back in his apartment. He wondered if he would have time to run and get it, but then he realized that he shouldn’t. A still, small voice told him to stay put and stay vigilant.

“I should get going, I guess,” Grant said loudly and he held the leash out for her to take.

Blair looked at Frank and then at Grant. She wiped away a tear.

“I have to greet people,” she said. “Just for a bit. Maybe...could you...if you don’t mind? Just hang on to Frank for a bit. For me?” She had returned to a more softened demeanor. The Copia residents started to file past the hallway, and she rushed to catch them, and greet them warmly. She called to some of them by name. He could hear the excitement in their voices, and he watched as they filed past with their collection of suitcases and bags.