Reckoners 01 - Steelheart

said, arms still crossed. “Though I doubt that blowhard really understands what for.”
    “I know,” I said, trying to redeem myself. “I mean, recording some poor guy’s death like that? It was totally unprofessional.”
    “Actually, he sells explosives,” she said, “so having a recording like that
is
professional of him. I suspect he has recordings of each of these weapons being fired, as we can’t test them hands-on down here.”
    “Megan, that was a recording of some guy
blowing up
.” I shook my head, revolted. “It was awful. You shouldn’t show off stuff like that.”
    She hesitated, looking troubled about something. “Yes. Of course.” She looked at me. “You never did explain why you were so bothered by being called a nerd.”
    “I told you. I don’t like it because, you know, I want to do awesome stuff. And nerds don’t—”
    “That’s not it,” she said, staring at me coolly.
Sparks
, but her eyes were beautiful. “There’s something deeper about it that bothers you, and you need to get over it. It’s a weakness.” She glanced at the water bottle, then turned and walked over to the thing Abraham was inspecting. It was some kind of bazooka.
    I secured my rifle over my shoulder and stuck my hands in my pockets. It seemed that I was spending a lot of time lately getting lectured. I’d thought that leaving the Factory would end all of that, but I guess I should have known better.
    I turned from Megan and Abraham and looked across at the wall nearest me. I was having trouble focusing on the guns, which was a first for me. My mind was working over what she’d asked. Why did being called a nerd bother me?
    I walked over to her side.
    “… don’t know if it’s what we want,” Abraham was saying.
    “But the explosions are
so big
,” Diamond replied.
    “It’s because they took the smart ones away,” I said softly to Megan.
    I could feel her eyes on me, but I continued staring at the wall.
    “A lot of kids at the Factory tried so hard to prove how smart they were,” I said quietly. “We had school, you know. You went to school half the day, worked the other half, unless you got expelled. If you did poorly the teacher just expelled you, and after that you worked full days. School was easier than the Factory, so most of the kids tried really hard.
    “The smart ones, though … the really smart ones … the nerds … they left. Got taken to the city above. If you showed some skill with computers, or math, or writing, off you went. They got good jobs, I hear. In Steelheart’s propaganda corps or his accounting offices or something like that. When I was young I’d have laughed about Steelheart having accountants. He’s got a lot of them, you know. You need people like them in an empire.”
    Megan looked at me, curious. “So you …”
    “Learned to be dumb,” I said. “Rather, to be mediocre. The dumb ones got kicked out of school, and I wanted to learn—knew I
needed
to learn—so I had to stay. I also knew that if I went up above, I’d lose my freedom. He keeps a lot better watch over his accountants than he does his factory workers.
    “There were other boys like me. A lot of the girls moved on fast, the smart ones. Some of the boys I knew, though, they started to see it as a mark of pride that they weren’t taken above. You didn’t want to be one of the smart ones. I had to be extra careful, since I asked so many questions about the Epics. I had to hide my notebooks, find ways to throw off those who thought I was smart.”
    “But you’re not there anymore. You’re with the Reckoners. So it doesn’t matter.”
    “It does,” I said. “Because it’s not who I am. I’m not smart, I’m just persistent. My friends who were smart, they didn’t have to study at all. I had to study like a horse for every test I took.”
    “Like a horse?”
    “You know. Because horses work hard? Pulling carts and plows and things?”
    “Yeah, I’ll just ignore that one.”
    “I’m
not
smart,” I said.
    I didn’t mention that part of the reason I had to study so hard was because I needed to know the answer to each and every question perfectly. Only then could I ensure that I would get the
exact
number of questions wrong to remain in the middle of the pack. Smart enough to stay in school, but not worthy of notice or attention.
    “Besides,” I continued. “The people I knew who were really smart, they learned because they loved it. I didn’t. I hated