The Selection Read online

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2017 by Jason J. Nugent

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  jasonjnugent.com

  DEDICATION

  To my son Jackson. This story is for you.

  CHAPTER 1

  Mina giggled. Eron ran across the playground. "Mina, I love you! Will you be my girl? You're so beautiful--" He tripped on a rock and face planted on the red soil. When he stood, Mina had fallen over with laughter.

  "Aw, come on Mina, that's not funny!"

  "Yeah it is! Look at you!" She pointed at his shirt, stained red.

  "Yeah, whatever," he said.

  They were on morning recess, expending boundless energy while teachers relaxed. The children were more excited than usual at the long siren blast indicating the Selection was underway.

  "Ten years from now when you turn eighteen, it’s gonna be your turn at the Selection," Mina said. She held out her hands with fingers splayed. "Ten!" she said.

  "Yeah? So what? It's how we become men," Eron replied. He puffed out his chest and Mina giggled again.

  "Don't kill anyone, though, 'cause that's bad."

  Eron cocked his head. "Why would I do that?"

  Mina's grin faded. "'Cause that's what you gotta do. I don't want you to, though." She approached him, her red curls bouncing with each step. "I kinda like you, too, Eron," she whispered in his ear as she kept walking. His face turned as red as the Anastasian sun. The bell rang and the children ran for the school doors.

  At the afternoon recess, Mina gathered with a group of her friends, all girls. Eron considered joining the group, but so many girls together at once intimidated him. Instead, he sat by himself and watched the other students playing. There were more boys than girls in his school. After the Selection, however, he knew that would change. Afterwards there were always more adult females than males.

  "Why aren't you with Mina?" a voice behind Eron called. It was Bello. He liked the larger boy, even though he tended to be mean.

  "Oh, hey Bello. I don't know. She's with her friends. I don't wanna bother her."

  Bello sat next to him, his large frame casting a shadow over Eron. "So what? Are you scared? Don't be a baby."

  "Shut up, Bello! Just drop it, ok?"

  "I heard you tell her you loved her. Oooh, you love her, don't ya, Eron?" Bello stood. "Hey Mina," he called. Mina and her friends looked over. Eron shoved his face in his hands. "Mina, did you know Eron loves you? He loooooves you!"

  Mina's friends laughed.

  "Be quiet, Bello! Don't say anything!" Eron said.

  "Eron loves Mina! Eron loves Mina!" Bello sang. Mina's friends laughed, and others on the playground joined in.

  "Come on now, stop laughing. Bello, please stop. You're embarrassing him," Mina said. Bello laughed harder.

  "No, I'm not. Look," he said, pointing at Eron. Eron shook, veins pulsing on his forehead.

  "You're not embarrassed, are you?" Bello asked. Eron looked up, his eyes red and glistening. He opened his mouth to reply, then stopped.

  "Seriously, Mina, he loves you!" Bello said.

  Eron faced Bello, the larger boy standing a head taller than him. "Shut. Up."

  "But it's the truth."

  Eron clenched his fists.

  "What, are you gonna hit me?"

  "Eron, please. No violence. You don't need to do anything. It's ok," Mina said, her calm voice soothing to Eron.

  "Yeah, you don't need to do anything," Bello said, mocking her. Eron turned and walked calmly away.

  "That's it, Eron, walk away like a coward," Bello said.

  Eron ignored his taunts and left the playground, Mina trailing after him.

  "Hey," she said. He'd made it to the school doors and stopped.

  "What?" he replied.

  "Don't worry about Bello. He's just a bully. No one thinks bad about you. Promise."

  "Sure, no problem."

  "Eron, I do like you. Don't let him get to you."

  The boy paused, then grasped the door handle and left her standing outside.

  That was the last time he spoke with her during grade school. Other than an occasional smile and a hi, he couldn't muster enough courage to talk to her.

  Bello's taunts continued and intensified. They were separated several times on the playground, Bello nearly beating up the smaller boy each time. Mina tried to intervene, but her actions seemed to make it worse. Whatever she said to Bello didn't help Eron.

  By the time they reached high school, Eron's crush on Mina deepened.

  "Why don't you just try talking to her?" his close friend Connor asked. He'd known Connor since they were little, but they didn't begin to hang out until eighth grade. As freshmen, they'd become best friends.

  They sat in Eron's room playing chess.

  "I can't, Connor. Not now."

  "Why not? She's just a person like me. You talk to me. Why not her?"

  Eron shrugged. "It's different. She's a girl and you're not." Connor sighed.

  A loud siren blared.

  The Selection had begun.

  Eron jumped. "Timo!" he said. His older brother Timo was now eighteen, old enough for inclusion in the Selection. He'd been anxious about the event, and now the sirens called him to action.

  Eron and Connor raced from the room, nearly slamming into Timo.

  "Timo, it's time," Eron said. His brother looked at him with wide eyes, a blank expression on his face.

  "Yeah, I guess it is. Goodbye, Eron. I'll see you when you get there."

  Their mom hugged her older son. "Goodbye, son. Be safe. Do what you must. You can do this. Don't forget your knife." She kissed his cheek and he nodded.

  Timo marched out the door and fell in line with the rest of the boys.

  "Sorry, Connor, I gotta go," Eron said. He sprinted after his brother.

  "Timo! Wait! Wait up!"

  His brother didn't turn around. Eron followed as far as he could until the soldiers in gray uniforms forced him back, telling him to go home.

  CHAPTER 2


  Eron couldn't forget Timo's bloodcurdling screams. The sound pierced his eardrums, making him wince. Timo had always been a strong boy, full of adolescent bravery and confidence beyond his years, but when forced to enter the Selection, he howled and screamed.

  That was the last time Eron saw his brother-before Timo’s ear-splitting screams began to echo in his head. Eron often wondered what happened to him on that day two Earth years before.

  Several weeks after Timo disappeared, Eron woke in the middle of the night, screaming loudly and punching the air. His mother tried to comfort him, explaining Timo had to go through this rite of passage. She assured him Timo's actions were overly dramatic. Eron know he, too, would have to eventually endure the Selection.

  That's probably what bothered him the most-- knowing one day he'd face the inevitable event looming in the future, unless he could stop himself from turning eighteen. Growing anxiety about the Selection had gnawed at him since Timo's experience.

  School studies suffered because of it, but most teachers understood. They knew what was waiting for Eron and the other boys his age. Anastasians had instituted it centuries ago while they were yet a small colony. Still, Eron's mother didn't let that excuse stop her from berating Eron for his slipping grades.

  "Eron, how many times have I told you to apply yourself? You can do better than this! Look at these grades. A D in history! History, of all things! You're better than that!"

  "But, mom! I've got a lot on my mind. Don't you understand?"

  "What I understand is I have a seventeen-year-old son who thinks skirting through school will help him as an adult! Your studies are the most important thing right now, son. Knowledge is everything. There's no room for incompetence. Take it seriously if you expect to make something of yourself. You're smart. Why are your grades dropping like this? A D in chemistry and an F in literature? Eron, I raised you better than this!"

  Eron opened his mouth to reply, but the stern look on his mother's face silenced him. He wanted to tell her his fears about the Selection; about how much losing his brother hurt. But as she stood with her hands on her hips, staring with deep, glistening eyes, he dropped it. Excuses never went far with her.

  "I'm sorry, mom. I'll try better. I am doing better right now, actually," he lied. Diffusing her was his priority, and if lying to her achieved his goal, then so be it. He hated resorting to this, but it was something he'd learned well before Timo left. Being the youngest child, Eron felt like she'd stored up all her leftover anger from his older sister and brother to take out on him.

  He hadn't seen Samantha in years. The last he knew, she lived at an outpost on the far side of Anastasia. She married and had a child of her own. Eron's family didn't attend the hasty wedding and he'd never met his nephew. Since they lived so far away, he never saw them. On planet communications were restricted for military use. Hearing from her was only through letters, which they received sporadically.

  Eron's mother talked little about her. Samantha was five Earth years older than Eron and she'd been gone since he was thirteen. So much had changed in her life--and in his, for that matter-- since she left, that it felt much longer. He hoped to reconnect with her one day.

  Eron hugged his mom. "I'm doing better, mom, I swear. You'll see on my next report card." She squeezed him tight. It was just the two of them now, and they were close. His father had been gone for many years. Eron used to have a clear picture of his father’s face in his mind. Over time it faded to a vague image of a man who was fun and warm. He wouldn't have been able to pick him out of a crowd.

  According to his mom, his dad left for the Anastasian Defense Force, a small but necessary militia. All males over age thirty were required to register, and there were no guarantees they'd ever return. Eron's mom talked about him on the long, lonely nights when she'd had a bit too much wine, saying, "They don't do anything," and, "He's probably on the other side, enjoying Victory Point." Other than that,, she rarely talked about him. Sometimes her denial bothered Eron. He wondered if he, too, would be someone she seldom spoke of once he left for the Selection.

  She finally released Eron from her embrace and he went to his room to read. He'd been learning about television and the internet in the Earth history lessons he did so poorly on. Those luxuries weren't for most Anastasians. The military used similar technology, but those resources weren't abundant on Anastasia. The scientists and thinkers on planet hadn't yet figured out how to convert Anastasian resources to Earthlike devices and equipment. It was an unforeseen problem still not resolved. Earth stopped sending equipment because of what Eron's history book called "the Ultimate War," and since then, Anastasia was stuck in a strange technological stasis.

  Not that it really mattered much, though. Eron wouldn't have had the time to watch television shows or play computer games anyway. His grades were slipping. He needed to focus now, no matter what awful things awaited him at the Selection.

  All the boys in his class faced the same fate. One day, they would enter the Selection unless physically or mentally unable. Eron could remember a few of those instances over the years, however, most faced the Selection and were never seen again. Rumor had it that those who went through the process lived a wonderful life in another colony, maybe on an outpost like his sister. They'd come through the Selection stronger and more capable to help grow Anastasia's dwindling population. The projected population growth did not pan out as expected upon human arrival three hundred years before.

  Boys told stories of beautiful girls awaiting the survivors of the Selection, that girls would fight over them for the honor to marry one of the brave. It was almost as if the boys needed to believe in the fantasy to accept their fate, but Eron wasn't convinced. But for Timo’s sake, he hoped it was true.

  Timo's screams echoed through his head again, the awful sounds of agony stabbing at his brain. When Timo set off for the Selection, he'd put on his bravest face. He told Eron not to worry; that he'd make it through, and one day when Eron went through the Selection and survived, they'd meet up and revel in their victories.

  But that was before the rest of the boys were released. Then, everything changed for Eron. As he watched the carnage unfold in front of him and hoped that Timo would escape, Eron feared not only for Timo's life, but for his own. The realization that one day he'd face the same thing overwhelmed him, and when he heard the cries of his strong older brother, his spirit broke.

  Eron threw his history book across the room. It slammed against the wall, knocking down a plaque he'd received for perfect attendance. Not like he had anything else to do with his time. The Selection loomed. He couldn't escape it. Much like Timo before him, he'd have to endure whatever happened. He only hoped the screams of his brother wouldn't continue to haunt him until then.

  CHAPTER 3

  About a week after the memories of Timo overwhelmed him, Eron found himself thinking again about his older brother. Eron couldn't shake the sound of those screams. He awoke one bright red morning to his brother's agonizing howls. Sweat ran down his forehead. His sheets were soaked. It took most of the school morning to finally push the haunting sounds out of his head. It wasn't until lunch that he could focus on something else.

  "Are you ready for the history test tomorrow?" Connor asked. He was a month younger than Eron, but slated for the same Selection. The Selection was held bi-annually and the boys had five months to prepare.

  "Yeah, I guess so. I studied, but I'm still confused. I mean, it's not like it matters anyway. What do a bunch of old dead people have to do with me, especially if most of them were on Earth?" Eron said.

  "Come on, Eron; it's more than that. We can't forget our past. If we don't learn from past mistakes, we're more likely to make them again," Connor said.

  "Whatever. That sounds like a line teachers cram down our throats! It's all worthless and you know it."

  "Worthless? No way! It's serious stuff. Really. I mean it."

  Eron rolled his eyes. Earth history didn't
matter. Whatever happened years ago in some far-off world meant nothing to the Anastasians…to most, anyway. Eron couldn't think of a single good reason to study ancient Earth history. What had Earth done for them? Other than send the initial settlement and two follow-up missions, Earth had forgotten them. No messages, no resources, nothing. Anastasia was an afterthought. If that's how Earth thought of them, then why should Eron waste his time studying about Earth?

  Anastasians stopped calling themselves Earthlings a century ago. The Earthlings obviously didn't care about them anymore, so why study their history?

  "No matter what you think, you still need to be ready for the test," Connor said. He sliced a bright blue vegetable on his plate and popped a piece in his mouth. It was one of the few food staples native to Anastasia that wasn't poisonous to the humans and was packed with nutrients. They were cultivated in greenhouses on the far end of the colony.

  "Hey look, it's Mina. Aren't you gonna say anything to her?" Connor asked. Eron ducked his head, pretending to give extra attention to his plate of food. "Eron, she's over there. Go talk to her!" Connor said, pointing with his fork and drawing the attention of the table next to them.

  "Come on, Connor, stop," Eron said in a low voice. Not looking up from his plate, he waited for Mina to pass. "I don't feel like talking to her," he said. Connor shook his head and went back to his lunch.

  Eron's heart raced. He'd wanted to talk to Mina for a long time, but just couldn't muster the courage. If Timo were here, he would have given Eron solid advice and encouragement.

  Timo.

  The screams.

  He dropped his fork on his plate.

  "I'm not hungry anymore. I'll see ya, Connor," Eron said. He picked up his plate and dumped the remainder of his food in the trash. If the lunch monitor caught him, he'd be in detention. Food was rationed and wasting it meant severe punishment, not that he cared at the moment. Let them take him to detention. It didn't matter. He missed his brother. Why did Timo have to go through the Selection? Why did Eron have to do the same? Why did any of them have to do it? And why not the girls?