Dev kept her eyes low as she watched the woman struggle to type in the names.

The Outerlimits, miles away from the main cities, housed their poor. It was also where they recruited Volunteers—their law enforcement. Nearly two hundred years ago, the world came to an end due to the Earth's resources being taxed to their limits. Good air went with it.

Rich people took airships and climbed up high, leaving all others to drown in the floods. But the pollution didn't go away with civilization's destruction, and neither did poverty. Of those rich, some became poor, some became burdens. And those burdens were housed here. While the main cities were protected by state-of-the-art forcefields, the Outerlimits was barely hanging on with it's opaque dome high above. Today, it afforded everyone to roam without face masks or breathing helmets, a rare feat. That would only last as long as the time needed to settle possible new recruits.

Most Vagrants, people from the slums, couldn't write much so this woman's ability to recognize written language and utilize it in and of itself was a miraculous feat. Still, after ten minutes, and two names inputted, Dev glanced around herself and the other head cadets managing massive lines who simply required all Vagrants put names in verbally.

Dev should have done the same. The wingey woman, so slim her collar bones peeked through her thin dress, kept on.

"Ma'am," Dev hazarded.

The woman turned, not to show her back to her entirely, but to hide the blush.

Rather than force it, Dev endured. Five grueling minutes later, the third name was entered. Dev sighed in relief. She needed to make her sixty-name allotment.

"Very well," Dev announced, "that is all three."

Still turned with her face away, the woman muttered, "I...I got four more."

Four?

Devn scanned the sea of people. Each head cadet, like herself, manned the lines. As potential Volunteers were free to go into any line they chose, most abandoned her lost cause and found someone more competent. They needed to do it before sundown.

The only other line not moving was Sen's.

While all cadets stood, Sen sat against the wall picking his nose. His data clipboard rested under him, as a makeshift cushion. That was in no way comfortable; he was out to make a point.

Dev thought to call out to him; to warn that the tar of his suit turning gray like that instead of white meant dust and debris were compromising his armor's integrity, but when he flicked his finger again, she thought to leave it.

But what could Dev do? What she should have done was what every other fourteen-year-old cadet given power and authority over adults did—take charge.

"Get back in line, old man. Unless you don't wanna keep that knee," was a line frequently uttered to Dev's right. On her left, another cadet simply snatched the tablet back from anyone who took too long to enter in their information. After five instances of that strict move, people got cooperative pretty fast. Better to swallow their pride than to miss this chance.

Dev? Dev willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole, this proud mother was only on name number five.

This wouldn't do. She'd only managed ten on that list before this nonsense had started.

"Ma'am," Dev began, "I think it's best if—"

A small girl, no older than Dev herself, rushed out and took the tablet from her mother's hands.

They squabbled and from the swears Dev could make out, the kid wasn't faring well.

"Well it's soon, and we're going to miss the mark. Just stay out of the way, what good that'll do," the child told her mother.

Dev observed them. She herself would never talk to her own mother that way. The fact that the woman bowed her head and gave in was incredible to see.

When the girl started typing, Dev cringed; it wasn't fast. In fact, it might have been slower.

How is that possible?

One more name entered, two more to go and the cutoff approached. Sen, head hung, raised both forearms at anyone who dared approach him. That profane gesture worked in making his day easier.

Lower recruiting numbers meant punishment—punishment with Sen.

Dev made up her mind to yank that tablet away and get this done. She shouldn't have looked at their feet.

It was such a stark difference to the bland blue dresses they both wore. The mother was barefoot, but the girl wore shoes...of a boy's design. It was a size too small, made all the more clear by how her toes arched up.

Despite their shabby appearance, they'd come dressed fancy. When Dev took in the crowd at large, she could see that most looked cleaner than she'd remembered seeing Vagrants in passing. Her line continued to thin until all that remained where the few candidates she'd acquired. Even those lost confidence in her and came to bow and mutter.

"We'll join another line, Volunteer. Therefore, we rescind our application with you. Forgive the trouble," said one man and his daughter in unison.

Then another gave her a similar greeting and scattered.

Above them, the grayish dome turned red; the day was coming to an end.

All that remained were Dev's new seven—it was all she was likely to get. Five names entered, and two more to go meant there was no sense in telling them off. Seven was better than none.

This was bad. And she knew just how bad when Sen joined her, yawning. He draped his arms on her left shoulder.

"Hey, cuz. How many'd you get? Like a hundred? A thousand? No. Bet you it was like a million. Nothing but the best for our top scorer."

Teeth gritted, Dev cut him a glance out of the corner of her eye.

Sen smiled wide then grinned. "You know, you really aren't as smart as people say." He leaned in and whispered, "Why didn't you just let them each write their own name, dumb, dumb? Bet you they can do that." He tugged her arm. "Come on. I'm starved."

Dev nearly fell over. "Wait, I can't just leave them."

The boy paused to scan the dwindling crowd. "Well, no way you're getting anybody now. Just let them scatter to some place. We'll get more next time. Better to get zero than seven. Right?"

He took her into a half hug, nearly choking her with the awkward embrace.

"And look, we can still eat together so long as we don't advance. That'll give me plenty of time to convince you: first cousins or not, up to three districts wouldn't consider us illegal."

Letting out a sigh, Dev glanced down at his hand, then his face.

"Kinda hard to walk me down the aisle on broken legs, deadbeat. Get off me."

With a flinch and a chuckle, he let go.

A chime sounded and Dev remembered her own hide and hurried to her meager recruitments.

"I'm sorry. That's the last bell. Whoever's made it's made it. By the last chime, it'll be another year before entry is available for this district. And it'll be months before I get this task again. Please, just let me take the few I've got."

An older girl joined, and then another. All seven huddled around the tablet and Dev wanted to scream.

Sen was loving this a bit too much. He paused suddenly and looked from one recruit to the next. "Hey, are these idiots related or something?"

Dev tried to look over the mother's shoulder as she muttered, "They're sisters."

"Sisters?" Sen hurried to them. "What the hell? Are you nuts, woman?" He shoved them aside and snatched the tablet. "What kind of sick, unconscionable so-called mother puts all seven kids on a chopping block at once? People die in there if they're too weak."

The second to last gong sounded and Dev jumped for the device. "Give it. It's almost time."

"Name incomplete," the tablet said. "Rejection pending for T.A.D.D dot-dot-dot. Name incomplete."

The taller of the girls shouted her name and the device flickered.

Dev sighed with relief, but Sen glared at the mother before him. He looked ready to spit.

"Was it worth it then, you hag?" he demanded.

Muttering under her breath, the woman gathered her girls close. The ribbons in the children's hair resembled their clothes to an alarming degree.

Dev could hardly stand the way Sen addressed them. With one elbow to the gut, he sagged far enough for her to grab the tablet.

"Got it." The final gong sounded and she, and her recruits sighed with relief.

"You shouldn't have taken it," Sen muttered. "It ain't valid outta your hands."

"Out of Volunteer hands, you mean." Dev gestured to Sen's previous perch against the wall to find his tablet gone. "I'm pretty sure somebody just turned yours in." She met his gaze and cheered, "Looks like this is the season we get on the field."