"Get up!"

I shoved away the hand shaking my shoulder and sat up in bed, glaring at its owner. "Was there any need?"

Carla Durga smirked in reply. "We've got Selection today, Hattie."

She ducked the thin pillow I sent flying at her as I hauled myself out of bed. "Don't call me that!" I couldn't help but grin as I spoke, but my smile faded when Carla pointed to the clock above the door.

I hurriedly pulled on my Squire's uniform and we sprinted out of the girls' barracks and towards the canteen. The Initiates who handed out food as one of their duties were well-known for being tetchy about latecomers, and we might not eat if we didn't hurry.

A Scribe leapt out of our way, the Power Helmets stacked in her arms swaying precariously as she shouted peevishly after us; I quickly yelled an apology over my shoulder, rolling my eyes. Dad would no doubt give me an earbashing about running in the halls at some point.

We barrelled into the huge dining room and grabbed the boxes of century-old Sugar Bombs the Initiate by the doorway handed to us, sitting at the nearest table. Looking around, the canteen was packed, mainly with other anxious Squires our age who'd officially finished tutoring and were awaiting Selection.

"So," Carla started, through a mouthful, "Who do you want to join?"

I exhaled, staring into the bottom of my box of cereal. Nearly a week of sleepless nights had led up to this morning; I couldn't be selected for anywhere without letting someone down. I knew Carla would be an Initiate, and while she'd never say it, I also knew she wanted me to join her so we could become Knighted together. 'Show the Mutants who was boss', in her own words.

And I was sure that Dad, who I knew better than anyone, really didn't want me to put myself in danger like that - he got antsy whenever he saw Sarah testing my laser-pistol shooting, for Steel's sake. He'd even said more than once that I'd do my mother proud in his Order of the Quill.

Glancing back up at her, I was completely lost. I rubbed at my eyes. "I- I don't know. I'm scared, Carla."

She smiled and gripped my arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, Harriet, you'll fit wherever you go."

Well, as sensitive as her sentiment was, she'd missed my issue almost entirely. Without arrogance, I knew I'd do well anywhere; Sarah told me all the time that by my shooting accuracy, I'd make Paladin in a year after Knighthood, at the most. And Scribe Jameson, by Dad's own account, was always very satisfied with my performance in tutoring and had pegged me as a valuable Scribe.

Before I could reply, a Power-Armoured Knight walked through the doorway, heavy metal footsteps resounding across the canteen. A distorted female voice announced that "all Squires are required in the bailey by Head Scribes Bowditch, Clarke and Peabody, and Paladins Lyons and Gunny."

It was cold out in the bailey, and the stares of our selectors and the crowd of Brothers around us didn't make me feel more comfortable. Dad stood between the other Head Scribes, and winked at me when I caught his eye.

Across from them stood Sarah and Paladin Gunny in their Armour, surveying our group curiously. Gunny was looking even more dangerous than usual, mouth twisted disdainfully as his gaze raked across each of us. We all huddled into a small crowd, as much to try and avoid the stares as the cold.

Sarah stepped forward, sweeping her long hair back as she spoke. "Squires. You've finished tutoring, you are ready to be trained to assist in the Brotherhood's struggle to protect the technology of the old world. Through repairing, recording and inventing as a Scribe of an Order, or earning your holotags and Armor as a sworn Knight." At this, Sarah rolled her eyes at me with a grin; I couldn't help but return it.

"Each of you has been assigned according to your assessed capabilities – wait for your name and move accordingly."

She stepped back and Gunny took her place with a clipboard in his hand.

"Artemis!" Christopher Artemis perked up nervously. "Knights!" He near-ran to stand behind Sarah, looking incredibly relieved; he told anyone who'd listen that his family had proudly worn 'Armor since the Brotherhood first began'. As if anyone cared.

"Bartlett, Order of the Quill!"

"Burrell, Order of the Sword!"

It continued, and, being a Clarke, I was up soon enough. "Clarke!" I wiped my sweaty palms down my long jacket, eyes darting quickly up from the floor.

"Knights!" Swallowing nervously, I strode forward to my place. Looking up at Dad and expecting a disappointed frown, his proud expression and thumbs-up were the best I could have hoped for.

"Durga, Knights!" I snapped out of my thoughts to pull Carla into a hug; her elated laugh brought me back to reality and I returned it, equally happy.

I was an Initiate now. My charge was stemming the flow of Super Mutants in DC, and combing the Wasteland for technology - like it or not.

0-0-0

The sun was unbearable. It was about midday, and the position of the bailey hardly helped shield it from the heat. I felt quite sick to begin with, but Gunny would have marched into the barracks and dragged me by my hair through the A-Wing if I'd stayed in bed. Hiding illness seemed like the best option at the time. If I skipped training and drills for a medical, I'd never hear the end of it; it was something of an unwritten rule among the Initiates that taking a sick day was equivalent to dropping your weapons and running from a battlefield.

While I couldn't be sure, I was on what might have been the tenth of my fourteen laps of running. I felt like I might die right here, but I daren't slow down; the last time I'd started flagging, Gunny fired his pistol at my feet until I caught up to the others.

Carla was handling it much better. Seeing me still at the back of the group, she slowed down slightly to draw level with me. "You okay?" She muttered, as she glanced over at where Gunny stood glaring at us.

My ragged breathing choking off any response, I nodded quickly. The motion made me wince as I felt a splitting headache starting up.

She frowned. "You sure? You don't look great, maybe you can go rest and Gunny'll give you a do-over-"

"Durga, Clarke, can it!"

Carla sighed and took off again, leaving me to force myself onwards step by step. The run didn't get better. My headache was getting worse, and my stomach felt goddamn awful-

Next thing, I was hands and knees on the cracked pavement, heaving my guts out. I could feel hot tears on my cheeks as I retched again, and the piercing taste of it was everywhere. Trying to force myself to my feet proved impossible; my vision doubled, and I fell back sideways.

Gunny was on me almost immediately. He grabbed me by my clumsy plait and pulled my head back, so I was facing him.

"Clarke, get the fuck up and keep going!" He shouted; he either didn't realise I wasn't at all well, or simply didn't care.

I groaned, too weak to drag myself upright, and begged him to take me to the medical wing. I was done with trying to appear tough, I felt dreadful and I wanted Dad to fix it.

"Ohmygod Harriet, what happened?" Carla's face slid into focus above me, chewing at her lip in her typical nervous expression.

"Durga, get going-"

She angrily cut him off, and even now, I couldn't help but smile. "What the hell is wrong with you? She's really sick, and her dad's gonna flip about this!"

There was a pause, as if the Paladin was actually considering her words; strange in that he hadn't already torn her head off. As he spoke, his voice dripped dangerous venom. "Take her then. I've got more important shit to do."

Carla half-dragged me across the bailey, past the mocking cheers of the other Initiates and into the B-Ring. "I told you. I said not to keep going."

I couldn't even argue – she was always the sensible mature one, even though I was thirteen, almost a year older than her. I just murmured agreement as I clung to her for walking support.

"You know the only reason Gunny didn't tear my throat out is I mentioned your dad. And now he's gonna hate me as much as he hates both of you, never mind the punishments I'll get from Paladin Lyons."

A muttered apology escaped me, which made Carla laugh. "It's fine. Y'know, I'm almost glad I don't have parents, it must really complicate things."

We reached the medical bay and she shouldered the door open, pulling me through the rows of old, slightly stained beds and into the small office at the back.

Dad jumped in his seat as the door opened, turning from his computer terminal to scrutinise me carefully. Carla sat me in the seat on the other side of his desk, stepped back and saluted Dad. "Scribe Clarke. Harriet was taken ill in the yard, so I brought her here."

He smiled gratefully. "Of course you did. Very good of you, Carla, thank you." He got up, adjusted his red robes and moved around the desk to take a seat next to me. "And I'll make sure the Paladin doesn't hand you a month of cleaning duty, eh?" His laugh always cheered me up.

Carla stared, obviously taken aback. "Uh, thank you sir. I'll just…" she gestured awkwardly to the door. I knew her better than anyone did, I knew why she felt so uncomfortable.

As an orphan, she'd never been used to accepting help or favourable from anyone, much less adults, and dickheads like Gunny just made her close up even more. Dad tried his best with her, but despite her usual confidence around just me, she shied away from any closer involvement within our family.

Dad nodded understandingly, and she quickly left the room. He turned to me. "Now, what happened to you? Pushing yourself too hard again?"

Uncomfortably, I looked down at my scuffed boots.

"I thought so. Honey, what you need to understand is that there's no shame in being realistic about your limits." His expression grew stern. "If you didn't feel well enough for drills, you should have come to see me. I've told you about this before."

Without much more talking, he handed me a Stabiliser tablet and made me down it there and then, before dismissing me, formally. I left the medical bay dutifully, feeling much steadier but even less happy than when I'd entered; letting Dad down was one of the worst feelings ever, one of those ones that actually hurt.

I'd like to say that his words made me change my approach, but they really didn't. Desperate to prove my worth within the Brotherhood, I continued to push myself that much more, more than any of the others. That got me into quite a bit of trouble, and that was how I met Henry Casdin.