Lotsu wasn't known for his smarts, but to Oni, he was the smartest person alive.

Oni, barely fifteen, hurried to catch up to Losu's seventeen-year-old determined stride.

"You know what you're 'sposed to do?"

"Yes, Losu," Oni struggled to match the teen's fast steps. "But how come?"

Lotsu slowed and cut him a glance. "What?"

He was offended but Oni needed to understand it. "But how come this is a sure thing? If it was a sure thing, everybody'd have done it. Right?"

The teen sighed and marched on. His well-worn boots barely held together. Oni wore the better pair. That was by luck. Last season, Lotsu hit an unexpected growth spurt and couldn't use them. Oni, the runt of their meager crew, lucked out.

Now, it was just the two of them on any given day, but once upon a time it had been four. To Oni, all that Lotsu said was law. It was fact. It was sanctified. But this...this plan was certain death.

Though annoyed by the lack of faith in him, Lotsu explained it again, "He's got double digits."

Oni nodded. "Right. So that means one-a his rents was a Volunteer."

"Right. The red band on the right arm is a double digit advantage. But that's not all. I saw this bastard last time. I've seen him out there for three efos years now. Three. And each and every time, he don't get no recruits."

The words were less than encouraging. "But that might mean he's a mang-head. A mess up."

Lotsu stopped and poked him in the chest. "That's exactly what it means!" he cheered. "Can you believe it? Believe the luck?"

Oni stared at him, wide-eyed and fearful. Finally, he shook his head.

Growling, Lotsu turned to walk on. When they reached a break in the wall, Lotsu slipped through feet first. He waited on the other side and helped Oni down.

"But I don't get it, Lotsu. If he's a mess. Why we wan him?"

"Because he's a mess!" Lotsu declared. The seasons for Volunteers depended on each district. Theirs was the only district in all the Outerlimits to ban Volunteers.

When young, it was easy enough to scavenge and sell parts. But as they aged, both of them knew there weren't many opportunities left. A wise Vagrant would train years to qualify to volunteer to be a law enforcer.

They both hadn't been wise.

It'd been just the two of them for as long as Oni cared to remember. But they'd practiced. In secret when nobody could see them to mock. They'd practiced holding their breaths. Lotsu was amazing at it. Oni...he'd manage. Somehow.

"But I don't get it," Oni insisted, hurrying to catch up. "Breaking into another district.... Okay, since without it, we ain't getting the chance. But to try from a efos Volunteer? I dunno."

This time when Lotsu paused in his stride, he turned to put both hands on Oni's shoulders.

He leaned down till their eyes met. "I ain't never lied to you, have I?"

Never.

Oni shook his head.

"Then listen. Remember what uncle Gus used to say: numbers matter. Double numbers have privilege. The most privileged is triple numbers that match. Like a four-four-four or something. This kid's got doubles. He's gotten zero recruits for three years in all twelve districts. That means he don't care. He don't care bout any of it. And he's never punished. I ain't ever seen him with a limp or nothing. I've been on him for ages now. Hell, he even recognized me last year when I went back in line twice and said nothing. I'm telling you. He's perfect. He won't care what district we're from because he ain't a real Volunteer. Not in his heart. He's protected if he can be this terrible and still head the lines."

The conviction of those words filled Oni with relief. It made sense. It made absolute sense.

A thought interrupted Oni's admiration. "But...if he don't' want no recruits, won't he be mad if we force it?"

"Yup!" Lotsu turned and walked on. The large crowd closed in and he unhitched the gasmask from his belt and put it on tight.

Oni followed suit.

"He'll be mad," Lotsu admitted. "But don't matter. So long as we don't fight back, he can't kick us off dat list. He'll hit us. Sure. And what'd I say?"

Once Oni neared, he met Lotsu's gaze from behind the poorly made plastic of the mask. "Make sure he don't hit my head?"

"Right." Lotsu straightened his shirt and the layers of jackets they'd managed to find. The fabric was a dingy orange but there weren't much holes in them. "Hit you in the head, he'd say some nonsense like we concussed. Don't you worry bout it, just get yourself on dat line."

"Right." Oni took in a deep breath then followed.

"All set?" Lotsu called back.

Oni pulled down his own jacket and ran after him. Of the two of them, he wore the better clothes, too. Lotsu'd insisted that Oni take the good ones. Oni's small frame would discourage a recruiter, but his cleaner clothes might afford him the air of someone cared for.

For Lotsu, he wore the rags. His towering size was his prize and he used it to shove his way through.

The further in they ventured, the sparser their line was in the middle.

And there he sat. The mang-head Volunteer with zero recruits. The jerk even rested on his data tablet.

He was big though, bigger than Oni expected. Nearly all his enthusiasm abandoned him but he soldiered on. It was Lotsu who slowed and came to a complete stop.

All to their right and left, the lines were endless. The two morons in the middle with zero recruits and the one beside it with just a handful was ominous. Something spooked Lotsu, however.

"Lotsu, sir?" Oni inquired.

"Holy..." Lotsu marveled. "Look at that. A yellow band. On both arms."

Oni wasn't sure of the significance but he narrowed in on the red band on the female Volunteer's bicep. "She's got a red one." When his words prompted no response, Oni leaned forward, trying to catch Lotsu's gaze. "What's the yellow mean?"

"Triple digits," Lotsu whispered. "That girl's got two."

Two?

Oni's feet felt heavy. Two. Both of her parents used triple numbers. All things in threes were good luck. Very good luck. As such, those numbers were all reserved for the best fighters. It was also one of the few numbers that could be passed on and reserved for offspring. This meant something. And somehow, the girl also had access to double numbers too, if the red band was to be believed.

Lotsu watched her unabashed, ignoring their original bounty.

That wasn't like him. Oni remembered everything Lotsu said, even when he didn't want to admit it. Stay the course. Devise a plan and follow it, even when it looks hopeless. You only abandon it when you're dead.

But Lotsu didn't appear to be taking his own advice.

The mang-head Volunteer even stood, leaving his tablet behind. This was their chance.

"Lotsu, sir? We can—"

"You go." Lotsu made his way to the girl's line instead. "I've gotta try this. You go to that one. Keep your head covered. And we'll meet up on the next side."

"What?" Oni shouted. "But—but—"

"Gol-se, Sonini! Just do it already. Stop waiting for me to save you. Go. It'll be easier if we were on separate teams. This is a good chance."

Before Oni could protest, Lotsu ran toward the Volunteers busy fighting over the recruitment tablet.

All that was left was Oni. One gong sounded. It was now or never.

His name wasn't that hard to write. Lotsu'd taught him. Even taught him how to write it shorthand or get a vocal prompt.

Oni hurried to the free tablet, all eyes on him from others desperate for a chance to volunteer but none stupid enough to do so without a recruitment.

The tablet looked bigger than he expected. It was a new model, too, not like the old junk they'd found here and there. He stared down at it. If he touched it, it'd be over...he couldn't walk back from that.

His heart pounded; he felt light-headed. Automatically, he searched for Lotsu but found no one.

After letting out a deep breath, Oni reached down and snatched up the tablet.

People watched him, but no one dared intervene and perhaps get caught up in this lawlessness with him.

If the tablet was coded, he'd be dead. Once Oni was far enough into the crowd, he faced the wall and tapped on the screen.

A blue glow filled the surface. It was unlocked. Lotsu was right. This guy really didn't care about anything. Lotsu even said the idiot probably never encoded it. As much as Oni wanted to prove that, he didn't have the time.

He tapped on the screen with practiced ease and entered his name. Then he scrolled down and entered it short-hand on a lower slot. Then finally, he came back to the top slot and pressed his thumb against the verbal prompted.

"Sonini Owns. District—"

Something caught him in the throat.

It yanked him back. Once he slammed into the mangled concrete of the ground, the thing constricting his airflow slipped off him then came down on his face again. A whip.

"You piece of...."

Another strike had Oni curling onto his side.

"Rescind it, you mutt! Rescind it now. I order you to rescind it!"

Strike after strike tore through his beautiful clothes. Maybe to a fancy Volunteer like this mang-head, they meant nothing, but they were all he had.

"Rescind it!"

Oni opened his eyes in time to see the tablet kicked straight at him. He caught it before it slammed into his nose.

"Rescind that entry."

Hands trembling, Oni dragged himself to stand. He met eyes with the crewcut cadet-leader. A boy maybe a year younger than him. A boy with a good build, height, and a gaze so hateful gladiators would run screaming into the night.

His glare spoke of violence if not murder and Oni crouched and picked up the tablet. He pressed his thumb against the screen and said, "Sonini Owns, rescinding entry."

Nothing happened after that. This was bad. Without the Volunteer touching it, it would remain invalid.

Still gripping the whip in both hands, the boy ordered, "And the other entry."

The other entry. Oni swallowed hard. The other entry.

Lotsu had been sure about the shorthand. He'd said put it as a precaution. But it wasn't Oni's full name; maybe it wouldn't count. He thought to delete the shorthand entry and leave the full but Lotsu had said delete the short one if forced. And Oni listened to all Lotsu'd ever said.

Once the shorthand entry was gone, Oni handed the tablet over, his body trembling.

The boy rolled a fist and struck Oni with all his might.

Body collapsed, Oni willed himself to move, he had to cover his head incase this jerk tried to kick him.

Once he finally crouched up and waited, nothing happened.

Sirens sounded and the shuffling of feet came and went.

The tablet still remained on the ground. Oni'd failed.

A familiar voice closed in. "Ma'am, please think about it. No one'll see when my entry was put in. You've got seven girls on dere. You need a boy. A bigger lung capacity, better stamina. And look, I can hold my breath well. Five minutes easily, eight under the right conditions." The footsteps neared and Lotsu ran to catch up. "But for you, Miss, for you, I'd try for ten. Where you gonna find another recruit that strong? Huh? Look at me."

All chatter came to a stop and the girl cadet leader turned to say, "I go by the rules. You are right in all you say and I'm foolish not to accept your offer. Getting written up for a late recruitment is a far better solution."

Lotsu laughed in triumph. "You won't be sorry—"

"But I follow the rules," the girl insisted. "And you were late." She asked someone, "What is the prognosis?"

Using a detached glove, the boy Volunteer scrolled through his tablet. "This maggot put his name in my matrix. I'm trying to make sure it's all gone—hey, put that down."

Lotsu held the tablet out. "Here." He sounded disgusted. "You coward."

Most spectators were all but gone now with the light of day fading.

"I ain't touching that till it's checked," the boy Volunteer insisted.

"Fine." Lotsu wound up to throw the device. The girl Volunteer caught it.

"No need for that." She took it and handed it to her fellow Volunteer. "He seems like an honorable person. I'm sure it's fine, Sen."

The device blinked and Sen's jaw dropped. "No. No! Why'd you pick it up for, Dev?"

When he grabbed the tablet this time, Lotsu stepped before the girl Volunteer, ready to take the blows. "It's not her fault."

Dev was pensive as she eased him aside. For a moment, Oni expected her to help Lotsu out by recruiting him. Instead, she bowed to him then took Sen by the arm and dragged him toward the long row of steps.

Oni still trembled. "What does that mean?" He asked Lotsu, "Do we do this again?"

For a long while, Lotsu said nothing, did nothing. Finally, he patted Oni on the shoulder and said, "Good luck."

The words confused Oni for some time. When they dawned on him, he gasped. "Wait. What about you?"

Lotsu shook his head and turned to make his way towards the district border.

"Wait." Oni ran after him. "Wait. Then let's try it in another area. Let's do it again."

A force shoved him back and he landed on his ass. "Don't follow me," Lotsu insisted. "You got in, idiot. You don't come back out here like a fool."

Despite his sincere words, there was anger in his eyes, and something else. Jealousy.

Oni stared at him, confused and stunned.

Lotsu grabbed the boots Oni wore and yanked them off. He took one last thing before leaving, the gasmask, forcing Oni to hold his breath less the polluted air reach him now that the recruitment was shut down and no one of importance was in this area.

As Lotsu walked away, Oni rose to his feet. He meant to give chase, to wrestle his boots and masks back but how could he? They were Lotsu's after all.

Oni stared on, willing his friend to at least meet his gaze one last time, anything to convey that he didn't hate him.

Nothing.

Lotsu faded from view, and there was nothing left for Oni to do but turn and look back at the long steps and the large doors leading into the Volunteers' stronghold.