“Okay boys and girls,” French stood on one of the message sorting tables in the boiler room in outside his office. The entire staff was gathered around. “Rail cars are pulling up in twenty minutes, so this is it. Big processing day, and we gotta make it go smooth. I want my enforcers,” he looked down at Ern and Hoyle, who were standing with Phil and Lin, Ascott, and Zerk, who’d helped Phil train them, “managing the people as they get onto the rail cars in Annex Two. Some of you know what all’s going on, some of you don’t. Now’s the time. The Council has been rolling out phase six of their master plan, which means that a lot of people are about to get the pointy end of the stick. Now, thanks to Herm here,” he pointed at a short boy with narrow eyes, black hair, and sallow-tan skin, “we got wind that this was coming a little over six weeks ago, so we’ve had time to ramp up. A couple more weeks and we could’ve made something special of this, but there we are. At least we’re open for business.”
Six weeks? This had been coming for six weeks? So it didn’t have anything to do with what Hoyle and Ern and Jeryl and Lema had done that night to that slug? Is that what Molly meant when she said “It’s the excuse they’ve been waiting for?”
“I hope you’re all ready for a busy day,” French said, “cause it don’t get busier than this. Herm, you and your messenger girls are gonna go and start fetching the customers. You bring them in as fast as you can, but you get them one set at a time. No attracting attention. You get them to an entry point and into the tunnels, see them all the way down to Annex Two, and go back. We’ve got four hundred to get out today, and we gotta do it quiet. Any ticket holders with kids will have to go after school hours—not before. You get them before and we start truancy rumors, and that brings CARE in. You get caught escorting them on the streets, and we’ve got all the CAREs in the world. Groups no larger than two. Avoid the Kleen booths. Get them underground and get them here. And mind the school schedule. You good?”
“Got it, boss!” Herm’s fourteen-core-old voice creaked.
“Kitchen squad! Where you at?”
The cooks, clustered in the doorway that led off in the direction of the caféteria, raised their hands.
“You ready for this crowd?”
“We’re ready,” said one particularly bristly-looking old man. Ern did a double-take. He had only started growing peach fuzz in the weeks since he started working for French. Normally guys didn’t start that face-hair thing until after Exile. The odd rebel in Betaville aside, he’d only ever seen beards in the old photos in his textbooks.
“Good. Phil, I want the enforcers armed, just in case we have any trouble. Your squad’s job is to keep the Formers and the sure-breds apart. The last thing we want is some kind of damn fool race riot down there. Everyone’s here for the same reason, you just make sure they don’t forget it. Anyone stirs up trouble gets a club. Anyone does it twice gets bullet in the head, you got it?”
“Yes, boss.”
“All right then, everybody. Get your breakfast, eat up all you can take. There’ll be no kitchen access and no breaks until dinner time. Now get moving.”
The crowd started breaking up around them.
“Guess all that fight practice is gonna come in handy,” Hoyle said.
Ern made a sour face and made for the door.
“Was it something I said?” Hoyle shouted after him.
“Yeah,” Ern mumbled to himself. “It’s everything you say.”
“Ernest?” French said.
“Boss?” Ern turned to see that French had climbed down from his perch and was standing expectantly at the table.
“A moment please.” French beckoned him with a crooked finger.
Ern’s heart jumped in terror. It did any time Phil or French wanted to talk to him, and every time it made him feel like a little kid.
He had to take the long way around the aluminum-topped sorting table between them. He kept his eyes fixed in the middle-distance, so French wouldn’t catch him looking at his feet like some kind of kid who thought he was in trouble.
French held out an envelope. “Looks like we’re going to need to get cracking on collections as soon as these people are out of here. You up for it?”
“I guess.” Ern took the envelope.
“Everything you need is in there. Give it a look over later, if you have any questions, ask me or Phil.”
“Okay.” Ern stuffed the envelope into his left hip pocket. “But what about the CARE agents and the Kleen booths?”
French shook his head. “Won’t be a problem for these accounts. Look it over when you’ve got a quiet moment. All this scheizer ficken put us off schedule, and this all runs on reputation. We can’t afford to let that schedule go. You understand me?”
Ern nodded his head, trying to do it with purpose instead of terror. “Yes boss. I’ll get on this as soon as these evacuees are out.”
French gripped his left shoulder. “Good man.” He nodded past Ern toward the door to the main hall. “Now get to it.”
“Yes boss.”