"It’s a misunderstanding."
The words came out before Alex could weigh them. He kept his voice low and steady, and he met the man’s eyes across the aisle.
"I’ve told everyone. The lawyers, the guards, the judge too. I didn’t do that."
The man with the scar leaned back against the bench and looked at him for a long moment. Then he shrugged, slow and lazy, like Alex had told him the weather was nice.
"Yeah, sure. Whatever." He waved a hand. "You can think so if it helps you sleep."
"I mean that’s why you say it right?It’s why we all do."
He turned his face to the window, and that was all. He had said what he wanted to say and lost interest.
The silence in the bus did not lift. Alex could feel it pressing against his skin, and then someone at the back coughed and a low voice muttered something. Another voice answered.
"Little girl," someone said, loud enough to be heard.
"Sick," said another.
"And he gets a pardon? Same as us?"
Criminals were judging criminals.
A crumpled cup bounced off the back of Alex’s head. He did not turn around. A man across from him spat on the floor near his boots. Someone else laughed quietly, an ugly sound with no humor in it. The guard at the front glanced over his shoulder, saw nothing worth stopping, and turned away.
’These are murderers,’ Alex thought. ’And even they think I’m the worst one in the room.’
He stared straight ahead and let it wash over him. Arguing would only make it worse, and the body he wore had no defense to offer.
Beside him, Jerry had gone stiff. His breathing came fast and shallow, and his fingers dug into his knees.
"Alex," he whispered. "Is it true?"
"No."
"But that guy said..."
"He’s mistaken. It’s a mix up." Alex turned and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. It was trembling under his palm. "Jerry. Look at me."
Jerry looked. His eyes were wet.
"It’s going to be alright," Alex said. "I promise. Just breathe."
He pulled the boy against his side, the way you would with a little brother, and Jerry did not resist. He pressed his face into Alex’s shoulder and let out a shaky breath.
"Ok," he mumbled. "Ok."
Alex kept his arm around him and stared out through the mesh.
’I don’t know if it’s going to be alright,’ he thought. ’I don’t know anything.’
That was the truth of it. He had said the words for the boy, but they rang hollow even in his own head. He had woken up in a stranger’s body with a stranger’s crimes, and he had expected, like every hero in every story, that some kind of gift would be waiting for him. A system. A skill. A panel that told him what to do.
There was nothing. Only a body and a collar and a chance that the doctor had put at one in a thousand.
’And I was a fool to think I was special. The others are in the same boat. Maybe even better off. At least their names aren’t attached to... that.’
He looked around the bus at the faces. Hard men, scarred men, some staring at the floor and some glaring at Alex. Every one of them was in the same line for the same needle. His chances were no better than theirs .
’What am I going to do?’
The road stretched on. The trees grew thicker as the city fell behind them.
’I could run.’
The thought slid into his head quietly, like a hand in a pocket. He looked at the doors. The guards sat at the front and the back with their rifles across their knees. When the bus stopped, there would be a moment. A gap. If he was fast enough...
The collar pressed against his throat. The green light blinked, patient and steady.
’No,’ he told himself. ’Don’t be stupid.’
But the thought did not go away, and he found himself staring at the back door and counting how many steps it would take to reach it.
"I’m going to run."
The voice was so quiet that for a second he thought he had imagined it. Then he realized it was not inside his head at all. Jerry had lifted his face from Alex’s shoulder, and his eyes were wide and glassy.
"What?"
"I’m going to run," Jerry said again, his voice barely a breath. "When they let us out. There’s got to be a way. They can’t watch all of us at once. If I just..."
"Are you out of your mind?"
The words came out sharper than Alex meant them to. Jerry flinched. A couple of heads turned in the aisle, and Alex lowered his voice to a hiss.
"Yeah, sure thing, dude. Go ahead. Run." He tapped two fingers against the collar at his own throat. "These will take you to the grave. What, do you think they’re some sort of decoration?"
Alex thought he was the only one being irrational but he wasn’t. He’d stopped himself from thinking with little logic and it seemed he had just stopped Jerry as well.
Jerry’s mouth opened and closed. His eyes dropped to Alex’s collar, then to his own, and his hand came up slowly to touch the cold metal.
"I just thought..."
"You didn’t think," Alex said. Then he stopped and let out a breath. His voice softened. "Sorry. I’m not mad at you."
That was the truth. The words had been aimed at Jerry, but every syllable of it had been meant for himself. He had needed to hear it just as badly. He had been sitting there planning the same thing, and it had taken a scared kid saying it out loud for him to hear how foolish it sounded.
Jerry sank back against the bench. He did not cry this time. He only stared at his hands, and something behind his eyes went quiet and dull.
’He’s starting to break,’ Alex thought.
’Everyone in this bus is.’
The bus took a long curve and began to slow. Gravel crunched under the wheels. Through the mesh Alex saw a tall fence, then a gate, and beyond it a wide stretch of open ground.
The engine cut out, and the doors opened.
"Out," a guard barked. "Line up. Single file."
They filed off one at a time. The air outside was cooler and smelled of grass and dust. Alex stepped down onto packed dirt and looked around.
The camp was smaller than he expected. In the center of a huge compound, enclosed by a chain link fence that stretched farther than he could see, stood a single building. Three stories, wide and gray, plain as a warehouse.
There was a training field to one side, a track, and a stretch of low obstacles. Nothing else. No towers. No walls. Just space.
’That’s it?’ he thought. ’One building?’
The other buses were unloading behind them. Sixty six men in orange stood in ragged lines on the dirt, collars blinking, blinking, blinking.
Then a door opened at the base of the building, and a group of people came out.
They were young, most of them barely out of their teens, in sleek gray training uniforms with the Foundation’s crest stitched on the chest. They walked in a loose formation, upright and confident, and they stopped in a line a few paces in front of the convicts.
Some of them were looking at the criminals with open curiosity. A few looked disgusted. One girl in the middle crossed her arms and clearly did not want to be there.
A tall young man in front stepped forward.
"Welcome to the training grounds," he said. His voice was calm and clear. "We are academy candidates. Like you, we are trying out for the suits. We are the top of our year, and the Foundation has assigned us to you."
A rumble went through the convicts.
"For the length of this program, each of us will help bring you up to speed. Drills, conditioning, sync theory. We will run you through everything you need to be ready when your day comes." He paused. "None of us chose this. But orders are orders, and I would like this to go smoothly for everyone."
Nobody responded.
The students split and began to pair off, walking down the lines and pointing at individual inmates. Names were called. Men were led away in small groups toward the building.
Alex stood still, Jerry pressed beside him. He felt small under the sky.
A young woman approached them. She had long blue hair and a sharp, unbothered face, with a tablet in her hand and a lean build under the gray uniform. She looked at the tablet, then at the two of them.
"Alex and Jerry?"
"Yes," Alex said.
"I’ll be in charge of you two for as long as you’re here." She tucked the tablet under her arm. Her eyes moved from Alex’s face down to the collar and back up again, and there was no warmth in them, but no hatred either. "Try not to make it difficult."
Jerry shifted his weight. "Where are we going?"
"Inside. Let’s go."
The young woman turned and walked toward the building without checking whether they were following.
Alex glanced at Jerry. The boy’s face was pale, but he gave a small nod.
They followed her.