"Why do you want to be a Volunteer?"

Oni's words came back to her again and again for some time.

It had been such a simple question but one that was both bitter and surprising. What kind of question was that for a Vagrant to ask? For someone in the Outerlimits, the Volunteer program was the start and finish of everything. It was the only way out.

For them, there was no other alternative. But not for her. Dev was something else. Yes, it was tradition for at least one Volunteer's child to be volunteered, to secure the ranking number. But for Dev, everything had always been at her fingertips.

So why did she want to be a Volunteer? And she wanted it more than anything.

Dev returned to her room and spent the time she allowed for Oni to run away to take inventory of her A-CAN anti-pollution medicine.

There was only enough for one more term. Unlike every other cadet whose A-CAN was provided by the facility, Dev followed her father's strict instructions of never using any but the high quality ones he'd got for her. before his condition worsened, he'd given her a huge supply, so many boxes that it filled a wall in her room.

Now, it was down to one little box and that little box was less than half. Using a pair of tweezers, she fished each tablet into the silver capsule-holder with care. It could hold ten, and she'd need three for the day.

Inside, she counted the meager sets and sighed.

How was she going to get more? She'd never found out where her father had even procured these.

She'd figure something out. Lunch was long gone and Sen was still with the seven sisters so Dev decided to abandon all hopes for Oni's return and focus on her own crew.

A part of her was happy he was gone—now Sen could go back to normal.

She returned the A-CAN stash to its hiding spot under her pillow and turned to double check her pill despenser.

Head down, eyes trained on each little pink tablet, she opened her door and ran right into a bag of bones.

The pills went flying.

"Sorry. Sorry! But I've made it."

Dev picked her head up and sighed.

Oni.

Dripping with sweat, and even more filthy, he huff and puffed before her.

And how had he found her room?

He gripped something in his hand which he held up.

"This said—this said it had to be reset. I've tried—I've tried everything," he wheezed.

Dev didn't glance down at the timer—she was more concerned with her A-CAN tablets she'd dropped.

"It needs to be reset by a head cadet," she informed him, crouching to pick each pill up.

Oni's breathing was still labored. He caught sight of the medicine and tried to step forward, but Dev held her hand up to him.

"Don't. You're filthy and I still have to use them. That's why I never wear shoes in my room. Please keep away."

Still fighting to calm, Oni waited.

Dev took her time waddling around for her pills, well-aware of Oni checking the device again and again.

It didn't matter that he was inside the facility unless she reset it. But he'd have to wait. She was a head cadet and she'd follow protocol—never leave one task unfinished.

She had nine of her A-CAN accounted for.

"Um," Oni begged, "ma'am, it's only got thirty seconds."

Dev ignored him and peered under the bed. Upon seeing the last tablet, she dropped to the floor and crawled under for it.

Beep. Beep.

Four beeps sounded, bringing Oni's world to an end with a fifth.

She pulled herself up and touched the receiver in his palm before the sixed beep could sound.

Oni's body crumbled until he braced himself on his knees.

"That was terrifying," he admitted.

Dev snapped her pill dispenser shut then stood to her full height to look him over. What a mess. And she was a mess for not letting him curfew out.

The sight of his dirty bare feet made her sigh.

Eyes scanning him up and down, she concluded, "You've gotten no food all day. You've done who knows what with your uniform and now you'll have to try to test barefoot. What exactly are you expecting to accomplish?"

Embarrassed, Oni dragged himself to his full height. He didn't appear to know what to say.

A part of her felt sorry for him. Equally, a part of her felt sorry for herself.

Oni calmed finally and said, "I don't need any food. I'll do the evaluation on my own."

Dev stared him down.

What a mess.

She let out a sigh and informed him. "You have one hour. That is barely enough time to get another delousing. Food—"

"I'll delouse," he hurried to say then slowed. "If—if I can get my second uniform."

At first, she didn't have an answer. So this was his trick—instead of getting discharged with one, he'd get two.

"It's not so easy for me to give you a second one. For that...you'll have to ask your proper head cadet, Sen."

Oni broke her gaze.

At least now, she hoped he'd realized she wasn't about to bend another rule on his behalf.

"Come," she said, walking past him. She grabbed her helmet off the wall and secured it once they were in the hallway. After tucking her pill dispenser in her boot, they were off.

They found Sen in the req room, sitting in the stands as Dev's pitiful team of seven girls, dressed in cadet uniforms, tried with little success to assemble and disassemble a gun. Not seven guns, but one actual gun.

Dev ignored them and their constant bickering and climbed the stone steps to reach her cousin who, instead of sitting reclined as he usually did, rested forward with his hands on his knees as he watched the sisters with interest.

Like Sen, she took off her helmet and secured it to her hip.

The sight of Dev made him smile. But then he looked past her to Oni who trailed close behind and he groaned yet again.

"It's still here."

Dev scolded, "Be nice."

Once Sen gave her room to sit, she did so but he didn't move further in to accommodate Oni.

She could have let him sit down instead but having him that close to Sen was a bad idea.

Sen's lone cadet's eyes drifted to the free spot in the row before them but he didn't approach.

For that, Dev was curious. When she met eyes with him, he was quick to explain.

"Oh. I know better. Lotsu always said each area is assigned to a crew. Don't worry. I won't embarrass you."

Dev was already embarrassed.

The large two-row area belonged to Sen entirely. How, she wasn't sure, but now he sat in her row and refused to let his cadet rest. By himself, now with her, he occupied three entire rows.

There weren't many crews there. Dev recognized at least five.

"You gave them uniforms early?" Dev asked, for lack of something better to say.

"Had to. Let's just say...it was better for everyone once I had."

He left it at that and Dev sighed. "How's it coming along?"

Sen shook his head. "Your group is...weird. Like...weird weird. The moment they set foot at that one table, everyone else left the floor. And there were like fifty people down there. There are literally ten tables and these guys going to one had the room cleared."

His words gave Dev pause. "What? Why?"

"If I'm honest," Sen said, meeting her gaze with his single eye, "I have no idea. I've been trying to figure it out."

A bang had them flinching and Dev looked in time to see one of her girls hold up her palm to regard the gaping hole.

"Hovala, give me strength...." Dev took time rising to her feet. She bolted from her seat and hopped the banister to land on the floor faster.

Something strange happened when she reached them, sifting through her belt for a first aid remedy.

The injured girl was nowhere to be found.

To be fair, Dev couldn't really tell who was who—they looked so much alike. Beyond that, she wasn't familiar enough with them.

What any normal person would do would be to step forward for assessment or help, these girls did not. Instead, they all balled their right fist and hid said fist behind their backs.

Then they stood close to one another.

Dev eyed the discarded gun on the table. A charge like that meant the pellet seared the flesh, there wouldn't be much blood, but what was their intent?

A tube of sealant compound in hand, Dev stood before them, awaiting the injured party to step forward.

What she got was downcast gazes.

Sen appeared out of nowhere some time later. Instead of jumping down, he'd walked the entire way.

"Want me to try?" Sen asked.

Dev didn't. What she wanted was for these morons to act normal and fess up.

But Sen snatched the tube from Dev's hand, demonstrated how to use it, then put it on the table beside the gun. No one reached for it.

This was infuriating.

All seven of them looked nice in their cadet uniforms, too.

She couldn't for the life of her figure out what was wrong with them and their strange behavior.

"Pst," a distant voice said.

It was Oni.

Dev closed her eyes, not at all interested in anymore headaches.

"Can I go get deloused?" he asked.

She wanted to strangle him. For one, he couldn't roam on his own, meaning either she or Sen would have to take him. Sen was no option and she had a situation to resolve right here.

Instead of answering him, she looked between the girls, getting angrier by the minute.

"We have to put sealant on it. If you get any kind of germs or water in it, it can become infected. So fess up."

The entire room quieted to watch them but Dev didn't look back. Embarrassed. The girls were embarrassed but Dev, unable to command them, shared in that humiliation.

She was seething by the time a hand came down on her shoulder.

"Honest, wifie, want me to handle it?"

One shrug had Sen letting her go.

"Ma'am," Oni called.

Dev wanted to scream.

"All right," Sen said, turning to the stands, "everybody get the hell out. Now."

Silence reined for some time then footsteps. Dev caught the first row of people leaving then the next. To her shock, Head cadets put on their helmets, leaving their crew without, and the room was empty in no time.

Finally, Sen turned to rest his forearm on Dev's left shoulder once more and said, "That goes for you, too, head cadet."

His tone was playful. He even smiled, but Dev died inside.

It was just seven people—why couldn't she control seven people? Seven girls.

"I got 'em," Sen assured her, nodding and scowling at Oni. "You get that one."

Feeling two inches tall, Dev growled and marched out, well-aware that Oni followed.

The glass doors closed, cutting off the last of Sen's words as he explained, "This is how you put it on. I'm gonna leave it here and you lot can use it freely. You've got two minutes before I come back—"

Dev was halfway down the hall when she heard the door open yet again, a sure indication that Sen stepped out.

The showers weren't far and Dev decided Oni wasn't getting a new uniform this time. He'd have to wear his rags. There was no point in getting clean then returning to them but the boy seemed intent on doing just that.

Forget this wasting of water, other thoughts weighed on her mind.

Outside the shower stall, Dev struggled to make sense of all of it. Why did everyone avoid those girls? Why were they always fighting? And why would they hide an injury?

"What else would they hide?" she asked herself.

"A physical condition," Oni answered.

He'd long finished and peered at her over the barrier.

Upon their eyes meeting, he said, "You mean those sisters, right?"

Dev's lips parted. "A physical condition? Like some debilitating illness they were born with?"

He nodded. "Yup."

What a bold thing to say. "And how would you know that?"

He didn't answer at first but said, "It's not that I know it for sure. It's just that nobody wants a trip to any secondary medical checkups. None of us would. But the ones who want it the least are people with any health problems."

That made sense. Dev closed her eyes and rubbed her face. But that meant she had a cadet with some sort of condition and she only had two lifelines. She couldn't waste it on one.

As embarrassed as she was for not figuring it out, she was also desperate to get a win so she asked, "Do you know which one?"

Oni's eyes widened. "No. And if I knew, I wouldn't dare tell. Where I come from, people with big mouths get carved a second pair of lips."

Dev puzzled about his meaning. "A second pair of what?"

Flexing his head back, Oni mimed cutting his own throat.

"Ah," Dev said.

They fell silent and she remembered his state of undress and turned with her back to him.

He crossed to the dryer without another word then returned dressed in his rags. It barely made a difference.

Still, he looked pleased, confident.

"We've just wasted dinner time," she reminded him.

That look of satisfaction didn't waver. "I'll be worth it. I promise."

But his promise meant nothing.

In twenty minutes, they would start with the basic evaluations and one of her dumb-dumb girls had a possible health problem. And of course, Sen wouldn't notice or check. That was just like him.

Her family's good name was a blight as of now, something she couldn't allow.

They returned to that same req hall to a crowd, Sen standing guard with his back against the wall.

"Hey, wife," he called, waving.

Dev groaned and shoved Oni to stand beside him. She told her cousin, "Bring him in for the eval and if he dies before I get back...." She leaned in close and promised, "I'll kill you."

Sen scoffed as she pushed through the people and ran. "You and those seven fit better than you know." He yelled, "You're all crazy."