Chapter 13 - THE VAN AT THE GATERYAN
The first thing that frightens me is the absence of a medical professional.
If this is supposed to be a student welfare transfer, why are there two security contractors waiting outside the administration building?
The second thing is the van.
Dark gray.
Tinted windows.
No academy markings.
A woman in a navy jacket stands beside it, holding a clipboard.
"Cadet Dube?"
I stop walking.
"Yes."
"I'm here to accompany you to an external assessment."
I look at her.
"Who authorized it?"
"The academy."
"Can I see the order?"
She gives me a tight smile.
"Everything has been arranged."
That is not an answer.
I have learned to recognize those.
"I want to speak to my welfare officer."
The woman glances at one of the men.
"Your welfare officer has been notified."
"Then I want to wait for her."
Her smile disappears.
"Cadet, delaying an administrative transfer may affect your standing."
My stomach twists.
There it is again.
Another threat.
Another reminder that people with authority expect me to obey without asking questions.
I take a breath.
"I am not refusing a legitimate welfare assessment. I am asking to verify where I'm being taken and why."
The woman looks annoyed.
Then she removes a document from her clipboard.
I recognize Colonel Venter's signature.
Or something that looks like it.
The form states that I require an immediate external evaluation after showing signs of psychological instability.
I stare at the words.
"That's not true."
The woman shrugs.
"I'm only responsible for transportation."
"I haven't been examined by a clinician."
"That's something you can discuss at the facility."
I look toward the administration building.
There are cadets walking between classes.
Instructors moving across the courtyard.
Normal life continuing all around me.
And somehow, in the middle of it, three strangers are trying to take me somewhere I never agreed to go.
I remember my mother's voice.
Start by telling the truth to someone who can help you.
I raise my voice.
"I do not consent to this transfer!"
Several cadets turn toward us.
One of the security contractors steps closer.
"Lower your voice."
"No."
The woman looks toward the van.
"Let's not create a scene."
"Then call my welfare officer."
For a moment, nobody moves.
Then the woman takes out her phone.
She speaks quietly to someone.
I can't hear everything.
But I hear one sentence.
"She's being uncooperative."
My heart pounds.
A few minutes later, an academy administrator arrives.
He tells me the transfer has been approved.
He says refusing could result in disciplinary action.
He says the facility will only conduct an assessment.
Then he offers to let me call the welfare office after I arrive.
I know something is wrong.
But I am exhausted.
Frightened.
And surrounded by people insisting that this is normal.
I get into the van.
The door closes.
I immediately regret it.
KAYISE
When Captain Ndlovu tells me Ryan has already left the administration building, I feel my stomach drop.
"Where did they take her?"
"We're confirming that now."
"Why wasn't her welfare officer present?"
Naledi is already on her phone.
She moves toward the window.
"I need the gate records preserved immediately," she says.
Captain Ndlovu turns to me.
"Kayise, I know you're worried."
"Worried?"
My voice rises.
"They threatened her family. They used her against me. Now they're sending her to a private company connected to the entire program!"
"I understand."
"Then do something!"
The words come out harsher than I intend.
Captain Ndlovu doesn't shout back.
Instead, she looks directly into my eyes.
"We are doing something. But I need you to stay here so we can respond properly."
I take a breath.
My father once told me that panic makes people confuse movement with progress.
Running toward a problem does not always mean you're helping solve it.
I hate that he is right.
I nod.
"Okay."
Naledi returns.
"Campus security has confirmed that the transfer vehicle left through the western gate eight minutes ago."
"Can they stop it?"
"The request has been made. I've also contacted the police liaison assigned to Ryan's threat report."
I grip the edge of the desk.
"Does anyone know where it's going?"
Naledi checks her phone.
"The destination listed on the transfer order is Northstar's assessment center outside the city."
Captain Ndlovu frowns.
"That's not an approved student medical facility."
"I know."
My heart pounds.
"What does that mean?"
Naledi looks at me.
"It means the order needs immediate verification."
I close my eyes.
For a second, I imagine Ryan sitting in that van.
Alone.
Terrified.
Possibly believing she deserves whatever happens next because of what she did to me.
I cannot bear that thought.
"She tried to tell the truth," I whisper.
Naledi looks at me.
"I know."
"Please don't let them punish her for that."
Her expression softens.
"We're working to protect her rights."
RYAN
The van is moving too fast.
I look through the tinted window.
We have left the familiar academy roads behind.
The woman in the front passenger seat is speaking quietly into a headset.
One of the contractors sits beside me.
I keep my hands folded in my lap.
"Can I call my family?" I ask.
"Later."
"My welfare officer?"
"Later."
I look at the man.
"Am I under arrest?"
"No."
"Then I want to leave."
He doesn't respond.
That frightens me more than if he had shouted.
I take a breath.
Slowly.
In.
Out.
I think of Kayise.
The way she refused to sign the academic agreement.
The way she reported the flood emergency even when Colonel Venter ordered her to continue the exercise.
I used to think being brave meant not being afraid.
Now I understand that bravery sometimes means making your voice heard while you're terrified.
"I want you to record that I am asking to return to the academy," I say.
The man looks at me.
"Sit quietly."
"No."
He frowns.
I repeat myself.
"I want my objection recorded."
The woman in front turns.
"Cadet Dube, you're making this unnecessarily difficult."
I look straight at her.
"Then stop making it difficult for me to speak to someone independent."
She turns away.
A few minutes later, the van slows.
We approach a private building surrounded by high fencing.
A sign near the entrance reads:
NORTHSTAR ANALYTICS — RESTRICTED FACILITY
My stomach twists.
We stop at the security checkpoint.
The woman gets out.
She speaks to a guard.
The contractor beside me looks down at his phone.
For the first time since leaving the academy, nobody is watching me closely.
I notice a small emergency intercom panel near the sliding door.
Above it is a label with the vehicle identification number and the transport company's contact details.
I memorize what I can.
Then I begin speaking loudly enough for the driver to hear.
"My name is Ryan Dube. I am a cadet at the academy. I have requested to contact my welfare officer, and that request has not been granted."
The contractor turns sharply.
"Enough."
I keep speaking.
"I do not consent to being held at this facility."
He reaches toward the door.
Before he can say anything else, the woman's radio crackles.
A voice comes through.
"Do not proceed with intake."
Everyone freezes.
The woman returns to the van.
"What?"
The voice repeats:
"Transfer authorization is disputed. Hold position."
I feel a rush of relief.
Then the woman says something into her headset.
"Colonel Venter's office confirmed the transfer."
There is a pause.
Then the voice on the radio responds:
"Independent oversight has issued an immediate stop request. Police are en route."
The woman's face changes.
She looks toward the driver.
For one terrible second, I think she might tell him to leave.
Instead, she steps away from the van.
The contractor beside me finally opens the door.
I don't move until I see an officer approaching from the checkpoint.
He introduces himself and asks whether I need medical assistance.
I shake my head.
Then I start crying.
I cannot stop.
KAYISE
Forty minutes later, Naledi receives confirmation.
Ryan has been located.
She is safe.
She has been placed in the care of independent welfare staff pending a formal review.
I sit down so suddenly that the chair almost tips.
Captain Ndlovu places a hand on my shoulder.
"She's okay."
I nod.
But my chest still hurts.
Because I keep thinking about what might have happened if Ryan had remained silent.
What might have happened if she hadn't objected.
What might have happened if nobody had questioned the transfer order.
Naledi ends her call.
Then her expression changes.
I look up.
"What?"
She is staring at the document in her hand.
"There's a problem."
My stomach tightens again.
"What problem?"
"The person who approved the transfer used an administrative account that had already been flagged in our investigation."
"Colonel Venter?"
"The account is linked to his research division."
I stand.
"Then arrest him."
Naledi shakes her head.
"We need evidence that supports the appropriate legal action. The fraudulent order is being investigated."
I look at her.
"How much more evidence do you need?"
Before she can answer, Ralph enters the office.
He is carrying a laptop and a sealed envelope.
His face is serious.
"Whatever you're planning," he says, "you need to move quickly."
Naledi turns.
"Why?"
Ralph places the envelope on her desk.
"Because the Northstar project administrator just scheduled a mass deletion of the original research archive."
The room becomes silent.
May you like
He looks directly at me.
"At two o'clock tomorrow morning, the records that prove what they did to Lerato, Ryan, and hundreds of other cadets may be gone."
