Office of Mercy (9781101606100) Read Online Free PDF

quickly drew up the four sensors clustered in that area: MD19, MD20, MC19, and MC20. She found the Pines in the southeast corner of sensor MC20 and zeroed in on their location.
    She turned the sensor to visual feed to confirm that the red streaks were indeed the men, a protocol move during sensor transfers ever since one now infamous Office of Mercy worker had inadvertently switched from tracking people to tracking a herd of wild cows. Through a triangular window in the spidery branches and vine, Natasha caught sight of a thickly muscled, bent human arm passing steadily through the forest. She was about to return to IR when a second movement caught her eye: appearing in the same spot, framed by a halo of jagged leaves, came the sudden and shocking profile of a man with a sharp nose and high, square cheeks. His thick mass of hair reached his shoulders and, as Natasha watched, he tucked one strand behind his ear. A beautiful man, Natasha thought, yes,
beautiful
was the only word to describe him. He took a step forward and, as he did, he carefully pushed aside a draping frond, almost as if he did not want the delicate thing to tickle his flesh. Maybe it was the lingering effect of having tracked the listless, withered Cranes for the last several weeks, but Natasha found herself stunned by this image of sensitivity and self-command and full-faced, full-muscled health.
    â€œYou should probably switch back to IR,” Jeffrey said.
    â€œOh, right,” said Natasha, flustered. She quickly changed the setting so that the three Pines transformed to red heat on the screen.
    â€œAnyway, I should get going,” said Jeffrey. “I wouldn’t want to keep the Alphas waiting.”
    Jeffrey stood, pushing his chair away and stretching his elbows over his head. It was a marker of Jeffrey’s status in the settlement that he did not appear a bit nervous. Anyone else on their way to meet the Alphas would be pacing trenches into the floor, or at least sweating under the arms a little. Jeffrey, however, wore the same cool expression as always. Of course, Natasha thought, as she had thought on many occasions, even the Alphas must respect his intelligence. Jeffrey had simply accomplished too much in the Office of Mercy—developed the new IR sensor technology when the Department of Research had failed, anticipated the mass Tribal migration of Year 278, and swept more Tribespeople than any individual in the settlement—not to be highly esteemed.
    â€œKeep your eyes on those Pines, champ,” Jeffrey said, touching Natasha’s shoulder lightly as he passed behind her. “If they stumble on that Crane sweep site, no one’s going anywhere.”

2
    T he three Pines meandered through the lifeless gray background of the IR map, and Natasha—forgoing all previous avowals to stay focused on her work—allowed the dull screen to erupt into a world of colorful possibility: she and a team of citizens venturing to the Outside. If anything could distract her from her mixed feelings about the Crane sweep, or rather, if anything could further
complicate
those emotions, it was this. If Jeffrey could get her a spot on the team, if Natasha got to see the Outside, it would be the most amazing thing to ever happen to her—yes, she decided, even more amazing than receiving her position in the Office of Mercy. She imagined suiting up in a real, custom-fit biosuit, not the stiff, mass-produced versions they wore during alarms. She imagined passing through the airlock in the Office of Exit, the only passageway into or out of the settlement. All that
green
. All that
sky.
And miles and miles of fresh, Post-Storm wilderness to explore, and land that melted away into water, and the ocean that curved to infinity. There would be bumpy, gnarly forest ground beneath her feet, not marble; and wildly growing trees and wild animals and gusts of wind that did not come from a fan. Maybe a bluebird would come and land on her