by Ramona Finn
“You’d better not let anyone else catch you saying that.” Viv glanced over her shoulder nervously.
I nodded. “Yeah, I know.” We were silent a moment, and then Viv looped her arm through mine, any ill feelings forgotten already thanks to the jar of Shine in her hand, which was now empty.
“Come on, let’s get you some more Shine. It’ll take your mind off things.”
“Nah, Viv, I’m good.”
“Well, at least come with me then. I need a refill!”
I sighed reluctantly. “Fine.”
Viv pulled on my arm, weaving us back through the atrium in a blissful haze. Sometimes I wished I could be more like her, content with my lot in life. Happy to entertain myself by watching the Farrow family act out their lives on giant screens, day in and day out. Drooling over Ben and getting caught up in the glamour and drama of The Cure. But I wasn’t like her. I glanced at the faces of other coders as we passed them by. I wasn’t like anyone here. I wanted more.
And now I knew how to get it, if I was brave enough to take the risk.
Chapter Four
Viv followed me as I meandered through the corridors, and we turned our heads as we passed the corridor that led to the Farmers’ Hall. It smelt of dirt and manure—an unfortunate if not unavoidable side effect of their working directly with the crops. It was almost like the Geos had been set up to separate us, with each Union’s living spaces segregated.
“Don’t you ever wonder why the Unions are separated?” I asked Viv, still halfway stuck in my own thoughts.
She shrugged. “I’ve never really thought about it. Just the way it is, I guess.”
“But didn’t you ever have a friend in another Union?”
She thought for a moment. “No… my class was all coders.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Mine, too. Kinda weird, huh?” Did the Elite know, even when we were sorted for school, that we were destined to be coders? Or was job sorting rigged like the Acceptance? I decided it was best not to voice those concerns. I was only glad I wouldn’t have to move away from my parents and go into another hall as I got older.
“Pretty lucky that we both ended up coders, right?” she asked, missing the point I was trying to allude to. “Not as good as the doctors, maybe, but at least we weren’t made plumbers or farmers!”
I nodded. There was a sort of hierarchy down in the Geos. Coders were pretty close to the top. Still, we all lived in the same dank, moldy place. Being stuck here in the Geos was the ultimate equalizer. Whether you were a doctor, coder, or farmer, no one was immune to the lung illness that came from a lifetime living underground.
“Do you ever wish…” I paused, suddenly uncertain of how vulnerable I was about to make myself. Viv was my best friend, but what if she didn’t understand? Worse yet, what if she guessed I’d tried to hack my way into the Acceptance and turned me in? No, I thought to myself. Viv would never do that. Not in a million years.
“Do you ever wish you could move up? Become one of the Elites?”
Viv hardly registered the question. “Huh?”
I supposed that, if you wanted to confess something, doing so with someone who was completely faded made it a little safer.
“I get sick of the dark, and the cold,” I continued as if she was processing everything I said. “I’m sick of my mom being sick. I mean, how many of us have to die before—” I didn’t finish my thought. Before somebody does something.
“Dead in the Geos, dead in the Above,” Viv slurred as she spoke. “Dead is dead. What’s it matter?”
She had a point. The images I’d pulled up of the Above flashed in my mind, along with pieces of every lesson we’d had in school regarding the GM Virus that had driven us all underground. Pockets of the Virus still existed in the Above, and were said to be a hundred times more painful than the Cough. Suddenly, I envisioned the faces of past contestants twisted with the pain of the fever that was said to boil you from the inside out. And I’d almost volunteered myself for it. No, I decided, it’s too risky. I would have to find another way to save my mother.
I looked at Viv, whose expression had become a little too suspicious for my liking, and sighed. “I just think it would be neat, ya know?” I tried to keep my voice light to avoid suspicion. “To walk around in a silk kimono all day. To have light and clean air.” I bumped Viv playfully with my shoulder and added, “To meet Ben Farrow.”
That caught her attention. “Ben.” She swayed drunkenly as she all but swooned. “Now, for him, I’d join the Acceptance. He’s so dreamy, don’t you think?”
I sighed. “Sure, Viv. So dreamy.” My voice had lacked enthusiasm, but if Viv noticed, she didn’t seem to care. She launched into a series of reasons she admired Ben. How cute it was that he looked after the younger Farrows, and how his pointed chin and the dimple in his left cheek gave her butterflies. I listened half-heartedly, suddenly distracted by the people around us. We’d wandered through the labyrinth that was the Union Hall and somehow circled back to the atrium, but instead of the ‘party vibe’ we’d left behind, there was a tenseness in the air. It crackled across my skin like electricity, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Something was up.
I slowed to a halt as I scanned the area, putting an arm out to stop Viv.
“Hey! What’s the deal?”
“Shush.” I could only think of one reason everyone would be on edge—an EF raid. The Emergency Force was a police force run by the Farrows. They were in charge of “keeping the peace” in the Geos, or so we were told. In my experience, their presence rarely brought peace.
If we could avoid them, I knew we should. It wasn’t like we were in a real police state; the people would never stand for that. The forces weren’t even around that much. EFs kept to themselves, save for the occasional patrol when certain crimes increased, and random drills for the EFs who were still in training.
I wasn’t sure which instance this was, but I knew that the consequences for Viv would be the same, faded as she was, whether the raid was technically “real” or not.
Suddenly, people began to scatter. The EFs had found the Shine. Intoxicants were against the law in the Geos, on the basis that muddled minds couldn’t do their jobs properly. The word was that, some decades ago, one coder had shown up to their shift faded and actually dumped the water reservoir, not only leaving the community without water, but drowning several farmers in the process. Never mind that no one had made a mistake like that since. One jerk had ruined it for the rest of us generations later.
I saw two officers moving around the atrium doing random checks. One found a bottle of Shine on a kid too young to join the workforce, let alone drink. The officer shook his head as he positioned the boy with his hands against the wall and frisked him.
I tugged at Viv’s sleeve. “Ditch the Shine,” I whispered.
“What? No way. I’m not done with it yet!”
“Shhh! Just do it!” I insisted through gritted teeth. “It’s an EF raid!” I told her, realizing she hadn’t even noticed what was happening around us.
That comment sobered her up real quick, though. Her eyes went wide as she frantically searched for a place to stash her jar and the EFs began searching Union members. Getting caught with illegal paraphernalia meant a cut in your ration vouchers at best, and a night in isolation at worst. Three strikes on your record made you ineligible for the Acceptance. You’d be stuck in your position with no hope of upward movement for the rest of your life. Severe repeat offenders might even find themselves demoted to a manual labor job like farming. Not only would there be no hope of moving upward, but you’d be doomed to live the rest of your life at the bottom of the Geos foodchain. I didn’t have any strikes on my record, but Viv had gotten herself into trouble a few times before, and I was pretty sure she had no desire to add another.
“Psst, give it here!” It was Bree. She snuck in behind Viv, taking the jar and slipping it into the pocket of her hoodie. That wouldn’t do much if we got searched, but for now it
was out of sight. A couple of EFs walked by, looking us up and down before deciding we were just there to observe the chaos, rather than being participants in illicit activity. I sighed with relief.
I’d relaxed too soon. One of the EFs caught sight of Bree behind Viv, locking eyes with her. And then he focused on Viv. “Hey, I know this one. She has a record!” he said to his partner. And then, “Who’s your friend?” He reached past Viv and grabbed hold of Bree’s upper arm. “What are you hiding there, girl?”
“Hey!” Viv protested. “Leave her alone!”
“You mind yourself, young lady, or you’ll be next!” he warned. “Don’t think I can’t smell the Shine on your breath!”
Viv clamped her mouth shut. No use giving them more reason to search us.
The second EF approached Bree. “Do you have anything to declare?” He was giving her a chance to confess. This part of the legal process in the Geos always baffled me, though. If you were punished either way, what motivation could you possibly have to confess? Bree spat at his feet.
The officer pulled Bree’s hands behind her back as we looked on somberly. Bree already had three strikes—making her ineligible for the Acceptance. This one would mean she’d probably be getting kicked out of the coding wing, and thus be out from under Viv’s protection. Who knew what would happen to her in a lower wing? “Guess that answers that question,” the first officer said.
His partner reached into Bree’s pocket and retrieved the Shine jar. “Aha!”
Chaos erupted—Bree wasn’t going down without a fight. She leaned back, bracing her arms against the officer restraining her, and kicked her feet in the air. Her boot made a hard THUMP against the second officer’s chin.
At the same time, Viv was moving forward toward the officers. “No, stop!” she called in vain, “the jar is mine!”
The first officer stumbled back under Bree’s weight, but quickly righted himself and swept his leg under Bree’s, taking her to her knees. His partner, who had picked himself up from the ground after Bree’s kick, wiped the blood from his mouth, pulled back his fist, and swung—just in time to hit Viv as she moved to intervene on Bree’s behalf.
Viv hit the ground hard. Unlike the officer, she didn’t get back up.
Chapter Five
Everyone scattered when Viv hit the ground. I guess they saw an opportunity to escape the raid and took it. Couldn’t say I blamed them. From the day we were born until we took our last breath, life in the Geos was all about survival.
One of the EF nudged Viv with his boot. One of her eyes fluttered open. The other was swollen shut. Viv moaned.
“Get her to Medical,” he grunted before shuffling down the hall, the raid forgotten among the chaos of a potential casualty. Around us, others scrambled to retrieve bags of bartered contraband that had been tossed around during the fray.
As I’d expected, the EFs had only stuck around long enough to see Viv regain consciousness. Even Bree had been forgotten at the prospect of the trouble they’d almost faced. Assault they could get away with, but in a society where population was so tightly controlled, murder was harshly punished. Even the Elite were held accountable when a life was taken, and the punishment was something far worse than a change in status. If you killed someone in the Geos, you were banished to the Above and the ruins of the world our people had deserted in favor of surviving the Virus.
“That was quite the hit! Wowee!” Bree knelt by Viv as she sat up.
“Uuunh.” Viv put a hand to her head. “What happened?”
“That EF knocked you out cold!” Bree’s voice was a little too peppy for my liking, given the situation, but I said nothing.
“Come on, Viv.” I put my hands under her arms to steady her as she stood. “Let’s get you to Medical.”
“Uh, I think I’ll stick around here,” Bree said. “I’ve had enough attention for one day.”
I couldn’t tell if she was trying to find more trouble or avoid it. “She took that hit for you, ya know!” I scolded her.
“And I took the heat for her!” she shot back. “Way I see it, we’re even now. Besides, she’s got you. She’ll be just fine—right, Viv?”
Viv could hardly stand up straight, let alone keep track of our conversation. “Sure, whatever,” she managed to mumble, which was enough to placate Bree.
“Great! See ya later!” With that, she disappeared into the sea of people making their way back to their living quarters.
The medical wing was the nicest hall in the Geos. It had to be, for health reasons. No one wanted to get sewn up in a room full of dust and mildew. Not even the farmers. Where other halls had patches of exposed rock in their ceilings and walls, Medical was covered from wall to wall in stainless steel, everywhere except for the floor. My boots squeaked against the white stone, polished to make it easier for workers to wash away blood and other bodily fluids. The thought made me cringe.
Even though I understood why their wing was better than ours, I still couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as Viv and I limped our way around the corner to intake, where patients pulled a number and were prioritized based on rank.
Legend had it that this way of sorting the ill and injured was based on ancient medical practices from the Above. Only, back then, people had been prioritized mostly by the severity of their illness rather than their social ranking. Funny how the slow acceptance of an idea over time could become the norm.
Intake was packed. Workers from different Unions were strewn across the metal benches, sporting a variety of ailments that were both illness and injury related, hoping to wait it out long enough to be switched in for a cancellation. The ability to cancel was a luxury only the Elite had. They could schedule an appointment for a routine visit and be seen the same day, even if that meant leaving workers like the ones here waiting days or more to be seen. In the Geos, there was no such thing as “urgent” care.
I propped Viv in the back corner and wove through the crowd to the front of the room, to the receptionist terminal. One of the doctors responsible for scheduling looked on as I input Viv’s info.
“Hey, my friend is really hurt. Any way she can get seen today?”
“You know the drill,” he said nonchalantly. “Check the queue.”
I sighed, knowing what I would find before I even turned back to the terminal. I tapped an option on the menu screen: Patient Queue. A long list of names popped up in the order that they would be seen. I had to scroll all the way to the following week to find Viv’s name. My stomach sank. A blow to the head with lost consciousness usually meant a concussion. She couldn’t wait til next week to get a work waiver, and without one, her time off work would be considered unexcused, meaning she’d forfeit the days’ waivers AND potentially be demoted if she missed enough time.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to the scheduler, closing the queue before weaving my way back to Viv.
“It’s a long wait,” I whispered, “but I think I can get you in. I just need you to create a distraction.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” She groaned. “Ty, it’s taking all I have just to stay upright right now.”
“I know, and you don’t have to do much, I promise. I’ll just go up there and tell the scheduler you’re gonna puke.” The last thing he’d want was to clear a room full of patients for Hazmat. Health protocols required sanitizing the entire room—including everyone standing in it. It led to a lot of hassle and paperwork.
“Just act convincing,” I said.
“That won’t be too hard,” Viv said, swaying as she spoke.
I took her by the shoulder to steady her, looking around again to confirm there were still no empty seats. “Maybe you should sit down on the floor.”
“And get trampled? No thanks.” She adjusted herself in the corner until she was steady. “Okay, we’re good. Go.”
I approached the scheduler, who had begun to doze off at his terminal. I tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up, clearly annoyed. “You again? What do you w
ant?”
I tried to sound nonchalant. “Oh, nothing. It’s just that I thought I should tell you, I think my friend’s gonna puke.” I pointed in her direction. His eyes followed my hand, widening in horror as they landed on Viv, who retched right on cue.
“Oh no, you don’t.” He reached into a drawer next to the terminal and pulled out a syringe. Anti-nausea meds. “Give that to her.”
I held my hands up. “I’m a coder, not a doctor, dude.” He rolled his eyes. Most people in the Geos knew how to administer basic injectibles for pain or nausea, though technically protocol required that it be overseen by a doctor if the patient was currently in Medical. I’d backed him into a corner.
The second he stepped away, I went to work at the terminal, pulling up the queue again first so that it would be on a familiar screen. I glanced over my shoulder at the other Union workers waiting, but none of them paid me any mind, probably assuming I was re-checking Viv’s status. Hacking the Medical schedule wasn’t something most people would consider worth the risk of banishment, but Viv needed to be seen now, and I’d seen an opportunity now for more than that. Chickening out of the Acceptance hack had put my mom at risk. Maybe while Viv was being seen, I could convince the doctor to write a script for her. Mother always put off coming to Medical because she knew the meds were only temporary fixes, and because it kept her away from work for so long that it cut down on our vouchers, but a temporary aid of some meds was better than what she had now, which was pretty much nothing, and if she wasn’t going to wait in queue to get them, I might as well get them while I was here.
It only took me a second to move Viv’s name up in the queue by marking her injury as work-related, which was normally something the scheduler would have to have done. She’d be seen today now. Work-related injuries were higher priority than brawls in the atrium or anything else that happened while we were on our own time. I passed the scheduler on my way back to Viv. He shot me a sour look for making his job harder as he pushed past me.
