Sector 27- Assignment

by J J Pasinella

  Caleb didn't directly respond to that question, but nodded in agreement and said, "Then I will see you at the seminar."

  Andrew looked up briefly from his work, gave a quick nod, and continued on with what he was doing.

  Caleb thought how sad it was that someone as bright as Andrew could be so completely misguided. Then he took comfort in knowing how lucky he was to have had his father with him, giving him some source of truth. He was the lone-standing lighthouse shining through the dense fogs of propaganda and brainwashing thrown at him by the Keepers. Then he thought how he could just as easily had wound up like anyone else in the grid; empty, thoughtless, careless and without emotion.

  It seemed as if the second alarm, which signaled the end of the workday, would never sound. But when it finally did, Caleb, filled with relief, moved towards the door. Andrew stood in front of it waiting for Caleb to meet him there as he usually did.

  "Ready?" Andrew asked.

  Caleb nodded and they both slipped through the door as it quickly slid shut behind them. They turned and walked down the hall only inches apart without saying a word, both gazing down at the bright tile floors until they reached the massive set of steel doors. They both looked up at the camera and waited as the doors slowly slid open. They moved past a pair of Guardians and then by the guard post leading to the streets. Andrew's living quarters were on a different street than Caleb's. They looked at each other, gave a quick nod and went their separate ways.

  Caleb began counting the sidewalk slabs again on his way back to his quarters. The sun had just begun to set over the tree tops leaving an orange-pinkish hue painted across the sky. There was a half-moon hovering above, and looked as if the sky was divided, with the night sky slowly pushing away the sunlit portion. As Caleb passed by the same Guardian that had nodded at him earlier, he heard in a quick but professional manner, "Fifty paces past this spot, left, eighty paces, left, thirty paces. Look for a small stretch of overgrowth."

  Caleb, without breaking his stride, registered the information and softly repeated it to himself under his breath, "Fifty, left, eighty, left, thirty, overgrowth. Fifty, left, eighty, left, thirty, overgrowth. Fifty, left, eighty, left, thirty, overgrowth. Fifty, left, eighty....."

  1.4 (The Grid)

  Caleb entered his living quarters just as the electricity was shut off for the night. He walked over to the small metal table, sat down in the chair and looked out through the window until the night sky finally prevailed over daylight. Slowly he hung his head down, gazing at the concrete floor. He took his hand and gently ran it along the back of his neck until he found a subtle, but noticeable protrusion. Each person born inside the grid was inserted with a small chip. This cylindrical capsule was a GPS tracking device. It could monitor where each person was inside and outside of the grid at any moment. Caleb had always imagined, due to the close living quarters, that it was most likely used to alert the Guardians when someone had gotten outside of the grid. This had been one of the predominant factors keeping Caleb trapped inside this place. He knew if he were to somehow get out, it would be noticed immediately and there would be no way to hide.

  After some time sitting, staring at the floor, thinking, remembering, he drank the last bit of water he had left from that morning and walked over to his bed. He eased himself into the iron frame as it creaked and closed in around him. He closed his eyes to sleep, but to no avail. His mind was racing, thinking about his father, Andrew, his work, the Guardian, the line he was fed on the way back to his quarters that night. Counting wouldn't help him focus now. He was on the precipice of something great and couldn't rein in his thoughts. They were running wildly now, throwing him from one reality to another.

  He got up from his bed and stood in the middle of the room. He felt a pair of hands shaking him as if to gain his attention. It was his father. He was staring intently into Caleb's eyes. There was a single tear running down his face. Caleb took his hand and gently wiped it away, then asked, "What's the matter Dad? Did I do something to hurt you?"

  "No Caleb," his father replied. "You have to listen to me now. Focus Caleb, start counting to twenty and listen."

  Caleb had been so preoccupied with what he was doing that he hadn't noticed the snake making its way around the living quarters. He nodded his head, began counting, and came to attention.

  "You only did what I told you to do," his father said. "Someday you will understand why it has to be like this. There's no time to explain it to you right now, but this is more important."

  "...four, five, six, seven..." Caleb had been counting in his head.

  His father continued, "I'm going to be leaving you for a little while. I've taught you what was needed for you to have a future. You're very young now and you are going to need to stay in this place a bit longer. But a time will come, and you will know, when you are going to need to leave, get as far away as possible and stay far away. Do you understand Caleb?"

  Caleb nodded his head, still counting, "...fourteen, fifteen..."

  "Remember everything I've taught you, and remember that I love you very much." Caleb's father began to tremble a bit as he continued speaking, "Don't try to stop them, stay perfectly still, keep counting and trace the cracks in the ground. And remember, when the time comes, ready yourself."

  Just as soon as he finished his sentence their door slid open, followed immediately by a pair of black figures. Caleb saw the ski masks and goggles, he read the letters "C-47" printed on their chests and watched them grab hold of his father without saying a single word. The night air was sticky and hot. There was a faint smell of burning rubber wafting into the room. Outside was clear, and from his seated position on the floor he could look through the window at the night sky and see the stars shining brilliantly above. He made pictures out of them like he and his father used to do on clear nights. They would laugh together as they found the same images. One source of happiness in this depressing place. Caleb remembered his father had told him to trace the cracks in the ground. As he choked back tears he painted mental images onto the floor. First a gun, then a mask, then a vest. It became unbearable, and after a short burst of shuffling feet, he heard a thud. He looked up just in time to see the last image he would have of his father. Two Guardians on either side of him, his father hanging limply between, his feet dragging behind him, unable to walk. Caleb stretched out his arms toward the figure of his father just in time for the door to slide shut and leave the quarters empty and quiet. The silence was equally as painful as what had just occurred in front of him. His mind was racing and he realized he was still counting. He became aware of his heavy breathing and pounding heart. Then he gave into the choking and began to weep.

  Caleb shot up in bed as if someone had grabbed a hold of his head and yanked it forward. He was covered in sweat and his hands were trembling. He swung his legs out to the side, rubbed his eyes and neck and then stood up. He made his way to the shower to rinse off and put on his uniform. He sat in the chair by the table staring intently into the center of the room, at the same exact spot where so long ago the center of his world had been ripped away from him. He understood now why it had to happen. It was the only way he could have a chance at freedom, at being human. He wiped the tears away from his face and glanced out through the window. He hadn't realized how long ago, but the sun was beginning to make its way into place. There was still a little bit of darkness left, clinging to the horizon, refusing defeat.

  Today was the beginning of the leisure block, and the Guardians would be changing shifts soon. Caleb normally spent his leisure blocks resting. But for the past several cycles he had been tracking the movement of the Guardians, watching when they changed shifts and what routes they took to and from the barracks. He would walk back and forth from the department, remaining outside by the soccer fields for a little while before heading back. The soccer fields were the only source of entertainment used during the leisure blocks. He often wondered if the others ever felt any satisfaction from the activity, or if they wer
e mindlessly going through the motions. He always thought they would rather be attending the seminars than be out on the fields. Caleb was trying to imagine what would be said of the Eco-terrorists at this day's seminar. Would the Keepers say they were becoming more dangerous? Would they say they had new information as to their whereabouts? Or would it be more of the same, "The work provided for Sacred Mother Earth is of the utmost importance. It is vital that nothing is held back, and that all efforts are exhausted, until the complete and utter annihilation of all Eco-terrorists is achieved."

  Caleb was snapped out of his trance by a series of quick knocks on his door. One-two-three pause, one-two-three pause, one-two-three. That was the signal given to him several seasons ago. He looked up at the alarm box in the corner of the room and shot it a sarcastic smile. He went over to his bed, reached inside the pillowcase and took out the shiny rectangular object. His mind was racing so fast. He could feel his heart thumping out of his chest. He had imagined this moment for so long, but now that as it was finally happening he couldn't keep his mind in order. He started counting backwards from ten and re-gathered his nerves. He sat down in the chair, bent his neck over and felt for the dastardly device buried within. He held one finger over the protrusion and with his other hand grabbed the rectangular object. He studied it briefly, at the open end, and slowly dropped it over the spot on his skin where the other finger had been marking. He closed his eyes for what seemed like an eternity, still uncertain if it would work, then finally, he pressed the button on the side. Caleb felt a jolt of electricity rush through his whole body and it left him tingling, like when a limb has fallen asleep. The sensation felt good to him, he felt free for the first time. After a few moments he regained feeling. He took the rectangular device, tapped it against the table and picked up the tiny cylindrical capsule that fell out of the opening onto the table. He briefly examined it, turning it over between his thumb and index finger, the object that had been lodged in his neck from birth. With a quick, sudden motion, he hurled it across the room with a sense of indignation and watched as it bounced off of the back wall and landed with a splash in a small puddle left inside of his shower. Then he placed the rectangular device into his uniform's front pocket. He then moved toward the door which slid open before him and he stepped over the threshold. For the first time he was happy to be outside on the street.

  1.5 (The Grid)

  It was dusk, and a thick fog lay over the grid so that it was difficult to see more than a few feet into the distance. It had been raining since the previous night and the sounds of rolling thunder could be heard somewhere out in the dark abyss. The outline of a thin, tall man, was hurrying down the street back to his quarters. He was draped in a white lab coat with black pants and canvas shoes. His hair was wet and matted, making the long gray strands look almost black as the water dripped down over his eyes. He was approximately six feet tall and weighed no more than one hundred and forty pounds. He kept his gaze down on the sidewalk, occasionally glancing up toward the living quarters to see the numbers painted beside their doors. The rain came down steadily, the man’s footsteps were in perfect harmony, tapping out a beat to the rain and thunder like a metronome.

  Suddenly, a Guardian shot out from within the fog. The man's steps couldn't be altered quickly enough, it was too late. The two figures collided and both stumbled briefly before regaining their balance. The tall man opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the Guardian’s fist was lodged up under his rib cage with a driving force. The man fell to the ground on his hands and knees, gasping for air as the other department workers moved around him as if nothing had happened. Almost as soon as he had hit the ground, he felt the Guardian grab his hand, lift him up, slip him a piece of folded paper, and shove him off in the direction he was heading. Behind him he heard a deep, condescending voice mutter, "Get back to your quarters and remain there".

  ‘Thank you,’ the man thought as he slipped the neatly folded paper into his lab coat pocket. He continued on his way, still trying to get his lungs back to himself. When he finally reached his living quarters, the metal door slid open and he heard a voice excitedly say, "Dad!"

  "Caleb!" the man replied. "The day has finally come, son. Do you remember my friend that I was telling you about before, the man who could help us get out of this place?"

  Caleb nodded. He was no more than nine or ten, and had been training with his father in chemistry and genetics. Caleb was lucky. Most children were removed from their parents at a very early age to be sent to whichever compound would train them for work in their future assignments. Caleb's father was one of the leading scientific minds under the control of the Keepers. Under control, or so they thought. He was very wise and knew how to conduct himself in such a way as to not raise any suspicions. With all of the successful work he had contributed over his long practicing career, there was no reason for them to believe he had been diligently working towards a way to break free from their bondage. Because of his capabilities, it was decided that Caleb would train under his father and someday carry the work forward.

  "He just handed me this note on the street," Caleb's father said, "I've been waiting for this day for such a long time now that I had begun to lose hope there would ever be a way for us to get out."

  Caleb curiously watched his father from his seated position on the metal chair. His father took the note from his lab coat pocket and carefully placed it onto the table as if dropping it any faster would blow it to dust. He then removed his lab coat, hung it over the back of the other metal chair and walked over towards the half wall by the shower. He grabbed a tattered towel from the wall and placed it on his head. Then with both hands, he began to feverishly dry out his hair. As he turned back towards the table, Caleb noticed that it looked like a frazzled mess on top of his head. Caleb let out a chuckle and took a sip from a water bottle. His father walked back over to the table and sat down. He stared at the note without opening it for a while, almost as if he were trying to assure himself that it was real. Or perhaps he was afraid that what was written inside the paper was something he didn't want to read. Slowly he uncreased a fold, gently laid it back in the opposite direction and did the same with the next three creases. The paper was yellow and slightly crumpled. The handwriting was small and scribbled and looked like it had been done in a hurry. There was quite a bit of wording in the note and Caleb studied his father's face as he read out loud:

  "Joshua," the letter started, "after much thought and careful planning, I have come up with the best possible chance for freedom from the grid. I have gradually been cutting away at a part of the fence not far from your living quarters during my shift changeovers. The opening is not large, but is hidden away near a thick patch of overgrowth. The bottom of the fence can be lifted up a few meters with enough room to squeeze through to the other side. It is important to mention however, that all of this is meaningless without a way to remove the chips."

  Joshua stopped reading aloud and after a few moments of reading to himself, a look of sadness fell over his face. He continued reading aloud:

  "I also have to tell you that your name has come up on the watch list at my barracks. I have tried to think of a number of ways to get you out faster than originally intended, but there's nothing that can be done. This makes the next couple of seasons very important. I have the EMP device that can be used to remove the chips, but Caleb is far too young for you to attempt using it on him yet. We have never tested the device on anyone of his age and can't be sure of the effects it will have. We know that in a fully developed brain, if there are side effects, they are minimal. Caleb's brain is still developing and there's no way to know what would happen if we were to use the device on him. I have buried the device a short distance from the department during an extraction last cycle. You will need to tell Caleb that when he is old enough he will need to dig up the device from the location. It is in between living quarters 49-F and 50-F. Tell him to dig in the small dirt patch five paces down the alley. Tell him to look a
t the third Guardian on his side of the street every day when he starts working for the department. When he sees a nod from that Guardian, it will indicate the timing will be safe to remove the chip the following morning, and get out through the hole in the fence. Good bye and good luck my friend. - Patrick"

  After what seemed like an eternity of silence Caleb quietly asked, "Dad. What does all of that mean?"

  Joshua looked down at his son and smiled, "It means that you're going to be able to do what I was never able to. You are going to leave this place."

  Caleb looked at him with confusion and asked, "Aren't you going to come with me?"

  "No Caleb," his father replied, "I am on the Guardians’ watch list. I must have slipped up somewhere, made the wrong comment, said something to the wrong person. I was trying to help people, but they are watching me now Caleb."

  Caleb was still confused as to why his father couldn't go with him.

  "Caleb," Joshua said, "you are going to have to do something that won't make sense to you right now, but will be sure to keep you safe. I need you to report me to the authorities. You are going to need to tell them that I was making plans to destroy parts of the department. Tell them that I have been telling you lies about them and trying to get you to hate the way things are here."

  Caleb's father knew that since his name had come up on the list they would have to watch his son as well to make sure he hadn't corrupted him. If he could get Caleb to turn him in to the authorities, it would look like the seminars Caleb had been attending had successfully brainwashed him into submission. It would make it seem like Caleb put the Keepers’ ideals before his own father.

  "But you didn't do any of those things, Dad." Caleb said. "I don't want to tell them that."