"Shit!", the boy whispered.
The guard had gone quiet and was now staring a bit too intently at the boy.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit," the boy began to whisper furiously. The guard started to approach him. The boy kept whispering shit, comforted by the knowledge that his mouth could not be seen. As long as he kept to uttering soundless words to dispel his nerves, and made no other outward display of said nerves, he would be fine. He could do this. "I can do this."
"You there, stop. What's that on your mouth?" the guard asked, coming to a stop and pointing to the masklike device that covered the boy's mouth from nose to neck.
The boy looked up at the guard—timidly, but not afraid—raising his small yet steady hands into the air.
The guard's brows furrowed in part confusion and part apprehension, slowly reaching for his weapon.
The boy stayed true to his plan to not panic. He kept his palms open. Then his hands began to move as he made signs. The device that covered his mouth lit up, converting the signs he made into words spoken in a robotic voice: "Please be calm. It is only a translator. I am mute. See?"
The guard eyed him, but his suspicion seemed to be turning into curiosity now. "Pretty nifty device you've got there. Do you th—" The guard went silent immediately, startled by something as he looked up.
The boy felt a nudge in his back. A hand grabbed him by the shoulder, shoving him towards the guard. "Stop yapping, Jules, and take him in through there," a gruff voice behind him commanded. The boy turned, his gaze finding a grizzled man who donned faded khaki and had a rifle slung across his torso, pointing at the left outpost.
Jules snapped to attention immediately, muttering a barely audible 'yes, sir'. He herded the boy in the direction of the squat building.
The boy's heart raced faster as they neared the outpost, his brain scrambling for a way out but ultimately coming up with nothing. Will this be the end? he asked himself. Would his mission have ended before it even had any chance of taking off?
They were soon at the entrance of the security outpost; a beige-painted, two-storied building that seemed too big for the sole purpose of processing entrants into the headquarters.
Jules noticed him taking in the size of the outpost. "We've got cells in the back for anyone attempting to go in with contrabands or weapons." The guard spared a quick look back at the superior who had ordered him to take the boy in through the outpost. "As long as you haven't got any of those, you'll be fine. Come on," he said, guiding the boy through the entrance.
The outpost's lobby was sterile and nearly empty. A detector much like the ones outside, yet somewhat more complex-looking, dominated the centre of the lobby. By its side was a burly woman—wearing the same fatigues as Jules—sitting behind a desk with a holographic screen on top. She looked up from the screen, casting an unimpressed gaze at the boy. Her eyes fixed straight on the mask-like translator that covered the lower half of his face. "Take that off and step in through the detector please," she instructed.
He did not think it possible, but somehow the boy's heart raced even faster, thundering in his ears.
Jules chuckled nervously. "Surely there's no need for that, Dawn. Look at him, he's just a kid."
The woman stared the guard down balefully. "Since when did kids become incapable of being security threats, Jules?"
Jules sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, alright." He looked down to the lanky boy by his side, then looked back up at Dawn, renewed vigour shining in his eyes. "All I know is if Beanie was lucky enough to have had this thing," he said, gesturing at the boy's translator, "her childhood would've been a lot better, a lot easier. And I sure as hell wouldn't be happy with her being asked to take it off for a damned security check. What do you think, he's got a bomb in his throat or something?"
Dawn held Jules' searing gaze, but could not do it for long, glancing away to the side in shame. She looked at the boy again. With a defeated huff, she said, "Fine. Walk through the detector, please."
Heart still pounding away like hammering pistons, the boy spared Jules an earnestly grateful glance, before moving for and through the detector. His heart was in his mouth for the one second he spent crossing the threshold of the detector, and still, it remained in his mouth after he stepped through, fearing that alarms would blare any second.
But they did not. He looked back at Jules once more, who said to him with a grin, "Make sure to enjoy the execution!" The boy replied with a grin of his, albeit a weak one, his stomach clenching with disgust and rage. He turned, continuing on his way, remembering the reason he was there.
***
Dusty air whipped furiously around Gringe and his companion. The sun glowed mutedly in the sky, but thankfully not directly above. High noon was still an hour or two away. Gringe had no idea how the evacuation process was faring. He still waited on word from Jebba on that and only concentrated on his task.
"These are an odd set of Suits," Germaine stated beside him, a note of suspicion in his voice as he marvelled at the ExoSuit he wore. He and the District Head hung on the outside of the Level Wall, perched in place, with the help of their ExoSuits, some hundred meters below the top of the wall. Curiously, their Suits were different in that their colours adapted to their surroundings, blending so seamlessly that to anyone observing them from any considerable distance, they would have been invisible.