A twinge of panic surged through his veins a moment later. Enough time for what? Taking the supplements away from the ration would solve nothing if he didn’t know what to do next. Amber and Ayn had saved enough food and water to go to the mountains, but Amber had eaten almost a quarter of the ration cakes in the cache. There wouldn’t be enough for two people anymore, and besides that, he hadn’t gotten an aversion dose. The supplement compounds were still stored in his muscles despite the fact that he had stopped taking them, which meant that he would die from toxosis if his body began losing even a little weight. He couldn’t go, that much was for sure, but maybe he could find a way for the ration to make the trip alone.
The ration’s sudden disappearance would be difficult to deal with, though; he shared John’s bed at night due to the cold, but Terry was still the official keeper and would be held responsible for the loss. The resource center would not be happy, but in theory, the arrangement meant that the plan wasn’t as risky as it could be. John would have to claim that he hadn’t noticed the ration get up in the middle of the night, and because he wasn’t the keeper, no one would focus on him. His father would be chastised, but the fact that the ration stayed in another room would earn him a little more understanding. It could work.
A sudden exhaustion overwhelmed him only a moment later. Even if he were successful, the resource center would just issue them another ration, so the problem would remain no matter what. He understood now what Amber had meant when she said she had only focused on saving Ayn; the thought of trying to save the rest of the rations seemed impossible. There were only two options: go along with murder or starve to death, but even if he chose the latter, the sacrifice would mean nothing. He couldn’t save them all.
John glanced over his shoulder, watching as the ration clumsily began filling another sack with salt rock, and a sense of pity tugged at his heart. The ration’s face was young and bright despite the emptiness in his eyes, and John couldn’t help wondering what thoughts were going through his head. The ration reached up, brushing his light brown hair back from his forehead, and determination filled John’s mind. Maybe it was pointless, maybe it wouldn’t really change anything in the long run, but he had to try. It was the right thing to do, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t.
†‡†
CHAPTER FOUR
A chime sounded from the clock on the wall above Amber’s bed, startling her. The lights in her room flickered on by themselves, signaling that the day was starting, and she rolled over, clenching her teeth with frustration. She had barely slept despite being given both the day and night to rest, and she was still exhausted. Sighing, she stood to her feet to prepare for whatever the day would hold.
Brian had mentioned taking her to assessment, and she hoped that whatever it was would offer some distraction from her own thoughts and sorrow. She got dressed and filled her flask, instinctively drinking only a capful of water before realizing what she was doing. She finished the whole bottle then moved to refill it, glancing around nervously as if she had done something wrong.
A knock sounded at the door, and she quickly stepped out of the bathroom to answer it.
“Good, you’re ready,” Brian said, beckoning to her. “We need to get in line for breakfast.”
Amber nodded, closing the door of her room behind her and moving to follow him up the stairs. The walkways were filled with people just like the previous morning, but this time, she felt less awkward among them. Her new clothes made her blend in, and no one seemed to notice her as she stayed close to Brian’s heels.
She began to slow as they climbed up yet another level. The stairs made her legs hurt; this place would definitely take some getting used to.
“Pay attention to where we’re going,” Brian told her as they reached ground level. “And don’t forget your room number, I don’t want to have to babysit you forever. You’re on Level BN19.”
“How can you tell which level is which?” Amber asked.
He pointed at a small plaque attached to the edge of the staircase landing. It read GN1.
“The numbers and letters. All the levels from the ground and up are marked G, and all the lower levels are marked B. The second letter is for direction, we’re on the north side of level one of the ground floors.”
“And what level are we going to?”
“This one. Food for us is on level one, door fourteen. Just follow the crowd.”
He gestured and she glanced up, finally noticing that the stream of people on the walkway was splitting apart as many of them disappeared through an open door. The rest appeared to continue climbing up.
“Where are the others going?” she asked.
“There are eight cafeterias, each one serves four levels per wing. Those are the people from the other levels, they have to go to a different one. We’re on one of the lowest levels so ours is on the ground floor. Hurry up.”
Amber followed Brian through the door and into an open room with tables and chairs. A line was forming along one wall, and he picked up his pace, moving to the back. She looked around; the room was huge, filled with hundreds of people quietly eating their food.
She cocked her head as she studied them, surprised to realize that most of them seemed to be men. They all appeared to be older than she was, too―not a single face she saw looked to be her age. She glanced at Brian; his exhausted, ashen complexion from yesterday was gone, brightened to an ebony bronze by the sleep he had gotten, but he still looked at least ten years her senior. The tight, wiry curls that covered his head were streaked with silver, and the corners of his eyes seemed more wrinkled than they should be. There was something about his demeanor, though, that felt even older than that.
“Pay attention, Amber,” Brian said, snapping his fingers in front of her face. “You’re holding up the line, grab a tray.”
“Oh, sorry.”
She reached out, quickly taking a tray of food. The man behind the counter scanned her arm, then she stepped out of line to follow Brian towards the tables.
“Brian! Over here!” a voice called out, and Amber glanced over her shoulder to see Darren waving. She almost didn’t recognize him at first; the dust that had covered him during their journey from the settlement had made his hair appear blonde, but now she saw that it was nearly jet black. His pale, narrow eyes were striking against olive-toned skin that looked like it had been perfectly painted on, and when he smiled, she couldn’t help thinking that there was something strangely beautiful about his slender face.
“I think he wants us to sit with him,” she said, nodding in Darren’s direction. Brian made a face.
“Of course he does,” he muttered. “Come on.”
“I thought you were ignoring me for a second there,” Darren greeted them, playfully rolling his eyes as they sat down. “I see you still haven’t gotten rid of your dead weight.”
Amber instantly felt her cheeks turn red as her smile disappeared, and she dropped her gaze as a wave of embarrassment washed over her.
“She’s an upgrade compared to you,” Brian quickly shot back. “This one’s a lot prettier than that ugly face you have!”
He nudged Amber, giving her a reassuring smile as he took the cover off of his food.
“Ignore him, he’s just an ass. He thinks he knows everything.”
“That’s funny, I was just going to say the same thing about you,” Darren said. His voice lowered to a loud whisper as he leaned close. “Be careful around that one, Amber, his ego is suffocating. He thinks he’s immortal.”
Amber raised a brow.
“Immortal?”
“Yup. That’s the closest thing I can figure, anyway, it’s a toss-up between that and just plain stupid.”
Brian glared at him.
“Like you’re some genius.”
“Smart enough to want to stay ali―”
“Hurry up with that,” Brian interrupted, glancing at Amber and gesturing
at her food. “I need to get you to assessment.”
Darren scoffed.
“See? It’s almost like you’re allergic to common sense, you can’t even stand hearing it.”
Brian silenced Darren with a look, and Amber wasn’t sure if she should be amused or worried by the exchange. She drew a breath, changing the subject.
“What’s this green stuff?” she asked as she took a bite.
“Algae,” Brian answered. “They bring it back from the coastal settlements.”
Her eyes grew wide.
“I thought the algae was off-limits!”
“Not for the resource centers. Eat, we don’t have all day.”
Amber swallowed hard, forcing a straight face as she choked down the meat on her plate. Her throat closed up as it passed through, and it took everything in her power not to gag.
“Are you okay?” Darren asked, eyeing her. She nodded quickly.
“It’s just different,” she told him as she took a drink. “I’m used to having it dried.”
“It’s so much better this way,” he said, putting the last piece of his food into his mouth and closing his eyes. “Mmmm, delicious.”
Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she watched him savor the taste, and she glanced away as her stomach turned.
“All right, enough of this,” Brian said, standing up. “Come on, Amber, they’re waiting for you.”
“Bye, Amber,” Darren called as she followed Brian to the door. “Good luck.”
She gave him a quick wave, setting her tray on a cart beside the door and walking out of the cafeteria.
“Assessment’s on GS9,” Brian told her as they climbed the stairs. “It will take a while, they’ll save you a lunch and bring it to your room when you’re done.”
“Where will you be?” Amber asked.
“Lab Seventeen. I have to get my injections, but I’ll be back by the time you’re through.”
“Injections?”
He shrugged.
“Yeah. It’s too much to explain, you’ll see. They’ll take you around for orientation tomorrow, they just have to get the assessment done first.”
Brian stopped in front of a door and reached out to open it for her.
“This is it. Have fun.”
“Thanks,” she said nervously. “You too.”
Amber took a deep breath and went inside, immediately surprised to see brightly-painted walls and rows of plush chairs arranged around the room. There were about a dozen other people there, and she found an empty seat, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. She glanced at the walls, studying the painted designs, and her heart stopped for a moment as her gaze came to rest on a scene along the back wall. It was a bird in a cage, and beside it was a flower.
She stood up and quickly walked towards it, her eyes growing wide. Her grandmother’s voice echoed in her mind, and she reached out, gently touching the painting. Her eyes brimmed with tears. This was the color purple.
“That bird was the last of its kind,” a voice behind her said, and Amber held her breath for a moment as she tried to control her emotions. She quickly wiped her eyes before turning around.
A tall, thick-bodied woman wearing a dark labcoat was standing nearby. Her tanned, heart-shaped face was framed by reddish brown hair that was halfway pinned up, and her eyes were a striking golden-hazel. She held a commanding presence that didn’t match her youthful appearance, and Amber glanced away, pointing at the painting as she swallowed hard.
“I think my grandma saw it,” she said, trying to keep her voice from cracking. “She told me a story about something like this.”
“Perhaps she did,” the woman answered, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled. “The bird used to live here, at this very resource center. I’m sure a lot of people saw it before it died, but it’s been a very long time since then.”
“My grandma said she was a little girl.”
“Then she must have been very old,” the woman mused thoughtfully, then she extended her hand. “You must be Amber Ordell, our newest arrival. I’m Dr. Monica Andreas, but everyone calls me Andreas.”
Amber nodded, awkwardly taking the woman’s hand.
“It’s…it’s nice to meet you.”
“We’re glad to have you here, Amber,” Andreas said. “I oversee the researcher development program, so you and I will get to know each other quite well. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I’ll do my best to answer as many as I can, but we need to do your intake assessment first. If you’ll come with me, we’ll get started.”
“What exactly is the intake assessment?” Amber asked, following Andreas through a set of double doors.
“Well, we’re hoping to make you part of the researcher development program here, but we need to get some basic health information about you first.”
Andreas walked into an open room off to the side of the hall. There were monitors set up along one of the walls, and she stopped beside a tall cart lined with rows of drawers. She opened one of them and took out a syringe filled with black liquid.
“Is that an aversion dose?” Amber asked, and Andreas nodded.
“We don’t use supplements here,” she said, lifting Amber’s sleeve. “Our program is a little different than what you’re used to, and the first step is to eliminate any residual supplements that may be in your system. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you still get the metabolic inhibitor.”
Amber winced as the needle pierced her skin. She knew the woman was lying―Ayn had already told her the truth.
“What’s next?”
Andreas pointed at the equipment.
“Height and weight, then we need to take some tissue samples from you,” she said, motioning for Amber to step forward and guiding her towards a metal pad on the floor. Amber stepped onto it as a red light turned on; it blinked rapidly, moving up and down the length of her body, and numbers appeared on a screen on the wall.
“Five feet, four inches,” Andreas announced, then she furrowed her brow in concern. “You’re only 136 pounds, though, which is quite a bit under what we consider ideal even for someone coming in from the settlements. Were you consuming your entire food allotment each day?”
A shiver of fear raced up Amber’s spine. She was supposed to weigh closer to 160 pounds with the muscular build she had gained from a lifetime of working at the grid, and she realized that she had lost more than she thought when she had been saving food for the plan to leave with Ayn. She gulped.
“I was injured a couple weeks ago and I wasn’t able to eat. Maybe that’s what did it.”
“Perhaps,” Andreas shrugged. “Well, whatever the case, we need to get some weight on you. I’ll have the kitchen prepare double meals for the next few weeks or so until you get to where you should be.”
She beckoned for Amber to follow, leading the way into another room, and Amber’s heart skipped a beat. The equipment in this room looked much scarier than the last―there were sharp probes laid out on trays that surrounded a chair in the middle of the floor, and she swallowed hard.
“What’s that for?”
“For taking tissue samples,” Andreas said. She smiled reassuringly at the fear on Amber’s face. “It’s not going to hurt, I promise. There’s a gown set out for you, go ahead and change and I’ll be right back.”
Amber obeyed, quickly undressing once she was alone. Andreas returned a few minutes later.
“Have a seat and we’ll get started.”
Amber’s legs screamed at her, practically begging her to run, but she managed to force herself to sit down. Andreas reached for a tangle of wires, using her fingers to expand them into a net, then she lifted it towards Amber’s head.
“This is neural mesh, we use it to test your intelligence.”
Small circles of metal were attached to the wires, and Amber cringed as Andreas used cold gel to affix each one to her scalp. A screen began flashing across the room.
“
Okay, Amber, all you have to do is watch the screen,” Andreas said, pointing as she flipped a few switches. “I’m going to record your brain’s response to the images you see, which will gauge your mental processing speed. That’s what tells me how smart you are.”
Amber gulped, staring at the screen as a series of abstract designs appeared. A tracer bounced across the images in a mesmerizing pattern, and the room faded away as she felt herself begin to focus in on nothing but the movement.
The images abruptly disappeared, and Amber blinked, suddenly feeling lightheaded.
“Is that it?”
“Very, very good,” Andreas mused, studying a monitor off to the side of the room. “Excellent results!”
“We’re done?” Amber asked hopefully. She grabbed the armrest of the chair, preparing to stand, but Andreas shook her head and picked up another syringe.
“Not quite,” she said, quickly jabbing Amber’s arm with the needle. “You’re going to go to sleep for a little while for this next part. You won’t feel a thing.”
“What are you going to do?” Amber gasped, drowsiness instantly flooding her mind. The feeling made her panic, and she reached for the woman’s arm, clutching at her in fear.
“Just a few tests. Relax, you’ll be fine.”
Andreas’ voice sounded garbled and distant, and Amber couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.
†‡†
CHAPTER FIVE
Andreas cursed under her breath, realigning the biopsy needle and moving in for a second attempt. She was trying to take a follicle sample from Amber’s ovaries, a necessary step in making sure that a lifetime of supplements hadn’t caused any fertility damage.
CENTER 82 (RATION) Page 5
