CENTER 82 (RATION)

by Christina J Thompson

  Darren let out his breath.

  “That’s good, that gives me a little time.”

  “No, unfortunately, it doesn’t,” Em said. “The board also voted to eradicate a settlement to make up for the loss of the rations inside the piers―”

  “Which one?” Darren gasped, sitting up in a sudden panic. “It’s not 264, is it? Not my old settlement?”

  “No, 264 is too close to other settlements for that, there’s too much of a risk of the eradication pathogen spreading beyond the targeted area.”

  He closed his eyes, sighing in relief as she continued.

  “The event is scheduled for right after the new strain of rations is set in incubation, and unless the board amends their timeline, the virus they plan to use will be sent from Base One exactly forty-two days from now. It will be a few days before I receive word as to the success of the attacks on the ration domes at the other facilities, but I can only assume that their boards will follow suit now that this half-term strain has been announced. We can’t have that virus within our walls, Mr. Yale, the administration and researchers are immune. I have no doubt that they will attempt to use it against us once things are set into motion.”

  “And when will that be?” Darren gulped. “When is all of this—whatever it is—supposed to happen?”

  “The message said ten weeks, but obviously that won’t work now that the eradication order is standing,” she answered. “I need to let my contacts know about the situation, but until I hear otherwise, operate under the assumption that I need the codes now.”

  “You don’t understand what you’re asking for!” Darren protested in frustration. “This isn’t something I can just walk in and get, you can’t just say now and expect me to know what the hell that means! I need a real time frame―”

  “As of right now, a week before the virus is delivered, at the very latest.”

  He clenched his teeth. It was better than nothing.

  “I’ll do my best. I can’t promise anything.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Em replied. “You’re the only sympathizer working in security here, which makes you our only option.”

  Her feet shuffled against the floor outside the room as she prepared to leave.

  “Our delivery arrives in three days, Mr. Yale. The couriers bringing it will be our people, and I’ll make sure you’re the only member of security sent to meet them.”

  “I’m not that kind of security, though. I just watch the logs―”

  “You’ve been promoted as of this morning. Your job description now includes delivery security, so be at the intake cargo bay for the researcher training unit at midnight.”

  “What’s in the delivery?” Darren called out, standing to his feet as he heard her start walking away. “At least tell me that!”

  There was no answer, and he stepped out of the storage room, glancing back and forth in the hallway. She was gone.

  Darren whispered a curse as he moved towards the service stairwell. He was sick of the secrets, and now he couldn’t even talk to Brian about what was going on. He clenched his teeth, his focus shifting to her strange request. It scared him, more than he wanted to admit, and part of him couldn’t help questioning the wisdom of following through with it. He had no idea who she was, no idea what she planned to do with the codes, and it made his stomach turn with dread.

  He reached the door that led out to the ground floor hallway, gently pushing it open and looking around before stepping through. His shift would be starting in less than ten minutes, and he broke into a jog, the woman’s words echoing in his mind as he headed for the security unit.

  “I don’t know how it all fits together, but I trust my source. You’re going to have to do the same…”

  Darren sighed, absently rubbing the sore injection site on his shoulder. He didn’t trust her, but he was going to do his best to get her what she wanted.

  ≈

  Amber followed Noah up to level eighteen, the same floor she had been brought to for processing. He stopped in front of a door marked ‘Special Project Lab A’, reaching for the keypad, and she couldn’t help catching sight of the numbers as he quickly pressed the buttons.

  0-5-6-4.

  The lock clicked, and he opened the door.

  “Go in,” Noah commanded, and Amber instantly obeyed, stepping through the door and into a small room. There was a mirror on one wall, and other than two chairs, the room was bare. Andreas was sitting in one of the chairs, a folder in her hand, and she smiled as Amber entered.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Ordell, how are you feeling? All recovered from the assessment?”

  Amber nodded.

  “Yes, I feel fine.”

  “Great. Have a seat, this won’t take long.”

  “I’ll leave you two alone,” Noah muttered, disappearing through a second door on the other side of the room.

  Ayn glanced up as the lab’s door opened; Noah hurried inside, a flustered look on his face as he grabbed a recorder. He fumbled with the buttons for a moment before lifting it to his mouth.

  “Meyers, Noah. Assistant 6794, for Monica—um, for Andreas, Monica, researcher 19213. Timestamp 12:19:06, January 29th. Interview commencing.”

  He stepped towards the one-way glass window that looked into the entryway and pressed the intercom button. Ayn sat up straight in his cage, stretching his neck as he tried to see over the top of the desk that blocked his view. Voices squawked out of the intercom, and his heart skipped a beat.

  Amber.

  He edged over a few inches, pressing his face against the bars that formed the wall of the cage as he tried to find the right angle; he caught sight of a hand moving on the other side of the window, and a moment later, his eyes finally locked on Amber’s face. He swallowed hard as he watched her sit down—Andreas was with her.

  Amber sat in the chair across from Andreas, doing her best to hide her nervousness as she folded her hands in her lap.

  “Is my hormone program starting?” she asked.

  “No, not today,” Andreas told her. She opened the folder she was holding and began rifling through the pages. “I called you here to discuss some things with you. You were assigned your first ration in September, correct?”

  Amber gulped.

  “Yes, I was.”

  “Was it difficult to get used to the responsibility?”

  “No.”

  “Can you elaborate?” Andreas asked, raising a brow. Amber shrugged.

  “I’m…I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Just tell me a little more about what it was like when the ration was first assigned.”

  Suspicion edged into the back of Amber’s mind; she wasn’t sure what this woman was getting at, and she took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully.

  “It was the same as all the other rations our family had, except I had to get its food and water and give it supplements.”

  “Did you always remember to give it its food, water, and supplements?”

  “Of course. My parents reminded me all the time, anyway, so it was impossible to forget.”

  “Did you personally witness the ration consume all of its food?”

  Amber cocked her head.

  “It ate when I ate, so yes.”

  “I see.”

  Andreas began scribbling notes in her file, and Amber pursed her lips.

  “What is this about?” she asked. “Did my parents say I made a mistake?”

  “I’ve been reviewing the weight record for your ration,” Andreas said, glancing up from the file. “It appears that there is a discrepancy, the gains weren’t what they should have been.”

  A hot flash of panic raced through Amber’s veins; she could feel her skin instantly flush, and she fought the urge to check in the mirror to see if she was turning red.

  “I…I don’t know much about that,” she managed to reply. “It seemed normal to me.”

  “Uh-huh. Accordi
ng to my notes, your father said that you helped monitor the previous rations your family had. You are aware of what normal gains should be, correct?”

  Amber tried to maintain a relaxed expression as her mind raced. This woman must have discovered the faked weight check, but she couldn’t begin to guess how. She swallowed hard.

  “I’ve only served as a keeper for one ration, so I don’t know everything I probably should.”

  “You know enough,” Andreas stated bluntly. “Did you think anything was off at the second weight check?”

  Amber shook her head.

  “No. Sometimes the rations level off halfway through their cycles, and our ration was older than usual. I figured that it was just levelling off sooner, and the third check showed that the gains had picked back up.”

  “The gains had not picked back up, actually. There was a problem with the scale at the settlement.”

  Amber’s heart stopped in her chest. She knew that wasn’t true, and she suddenly got the terrifying feeling that she was being set up.

  “What do you mean?” she slowly asked, and Andreas leaned forward in her chair, a stern look on her face.

  “The ration was still severely underweight at that third check, Ms. Ordell. And you were also underweight during your assessment.”

  Amber shifted uncomfortably.

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking,” she said. “I was underweight because I couldn’t eat while I was injured.”

  “That isn’t true,” Andreas told her. “You received nutrition doses during your coma, you shouldn’t have lost any weight.”

  Amber felt the blood drain from her face. She had forgotten about those.

  “I…I didn’t know that. Then I’m not sure what would have caused it.”

  Andreas sighed, snapping the folder shut and setting in on her lap.

  “You’re not being honest with me, Ms. Ordell. I think you know exactly why your weight was low.”

  Amber could feel the palms of her hands break out into a cold sweat as she tried to come up with an answer. Her eyes brimmed with anxious tears, and she drew a ragged breath.

  “I was working longer at the grid,” she finally blurted out. “I told my father that I was reading there, but I was really working.”

  “And the ration?” Andreas asked. “Was it working, too?”

  “No,” Amber whispered, finally letting her tears spill over. She buried her face in her hands. “All I know about its weight is what the scale at the settlement said, but mine was from working extra hours. I didn’t want my parents to find out, they were already worried about not making our quota and I just had to do somethi―”

  “Calm down, Amber, you’re not in any trouble,” Andreas reassured her. “I’m just trying to make sense of this data. We need to ensure that you’re healthy enough for our program.”

  Amber glanced up fearfully, remembering Executive Smith’s warning about removal.

  “But I thought I passed all the tests―”

  “You did, but I needed an answer to this question before we could continue.”

  “Am I…am I going to be removed?” Amber sniffled as she wiped her face. “Am I in trouble?”

  “Of course not,” Andreas said, reopening the folder and flipping to the last page. “I understand wanting to help your family, that’s not a problem. Now, you’re aware that your ration was harvested early, correct?”

  A sudden pang of sorrow mingled with the fear in Amber’s heart, and she nodded.

  “I’m aware.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “My mother told me that it was defective.”

  “It went for help when you fell through the mine,” Andreas said, and Amber could feel the woman’s eyes boring holes into her.

  “No one told me that.”

  “I see. Did you ever notice anything strange about the ration?”

  A new kind of suspicion edged into Amber’s mind. Did this woman know her secret?

  “I…I don’t think so. It was bigger than the ones we’ve had before, but it acted the same.”

  Andreas raised a brow.

  “You’re absolutely sure that nothing seemed off about it?”

  “Like what?”

  “Anything. Was it more adept at performing tasks? Did it seem to obey spoken instructions?”

  The knot in Amber’s stomach clenched even tighter, her mind racing as she tried not to panic. John was the only other person who knew about Ayn, but she was sure he wouldn’t have said anything. If he had, she reasoned, the questions she was being asked would be much more severe.

  “Spoken instructions?” she echoed, forcing an incredulous tone. “I’ve never even heard of someone trying to speak to a ration, that’s crazy!”

  “Yes, I suppose it is,” Andreas mused, standing up. “I think that’s all I need from you right now. We’ll be starting your hormone program soon, Amber, thank you.”

  “I’m not in trouble, am I? For not telling you about the extra work?”

  “No, of course not, thank you for being honest with me,” Andreas said. She opened the door, gesturing for Amber to go. “I’m going to take another look at my records, I’m sure the answer to the ration’s problem is in here somewhere. Have a nice day, Ms. Ordell.”

  “You too,” Amber murmured as she flashed a smile. She put her head down and hurried out.

  Ayn’s heart ached with relief as he watched Amber leave the room, and he sat up straight, pretending to stare at his feet as Andreas walked into the lab.

  “What do you think, doctor?” Noah asked, turning the recorder off.

  “Either she really is clueless or she’s an excellent liar,” Andreas replied, sighing as she tossed the file onto her desk. “One of the reports mentions her going to the grid to read, and the excuse she gave about working longer hours is reasonable especially given the fact that the Ordell grid was deeper than all the others in the settlement. The ration’s weight still concerns me, though, I can’t ignore how drastic the difference is.”

  “Do you think she noticed that something was wrong with it?”

  Andreas shrugged, opening the cover of the folder and shuffling the pages around.

  “She seemed sincere, but I’m not going to eliminate it as a possibility. We need to keep an eye on her just in case.”

  Ayn heard footsteps approaching the cage, and the keypad beeped as Andreas entered the code. The door opened.

  “Get the ration hooked up,” she said. “I want to administer the first dose of supplements while I still have enough power to monitor the response.”

  “Yes, doctor,” Noah replied, snatching hold of a prod and gulping loudly as he stepped closer. He trembled as he carefully reached into the cage with one hand to grab Ayn’s arm.

  Ayn clumsily stood up and allowed himself to be led towards the restraint platform. For one split second, his downcast eyes darted to the side as he passed by the open folder on the desk.

  487-Ordell, Amber. Unit 2493.

  The words seared themselves into his mind, and he smiled to himself. He knew where she was.

  †‡†

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Amber’s heart raced as she made her way back to her room, Andreas’ questions echoing in her mind. The woman had to be close to figuring out the truth somehow, and the thought of the consequences that could come of it was terrifying. After the severity of the interview with Smith, she could only imagine what would happen to her if her secret were discovered.

  She stopped in front of her door and reached for the lock; her hand trembled as she entered the code, and she drew a deep breath, trying to calm down.

  It doesn’t matter, she reminded herself as she stepped inside. Just a few more hours, Amber. You only have to make it through a few more hours.

  She closed her eyes, refocusing her attention on her plans, and she sighed as she moved towards the bedside table. She picked up the rock Ayn had given her and quickly sl
ipped it into her pocket, then she reached for the book. It was too big to fit in her other pocket and too heavy to tuck into her waistband, but there was no way she was going to leave it behind. She would just have to carry it with her to work and hope no one noticed.

  Amber sat down on her bed and stared up at the clock. Three more hours until she would report back to TPM. A sudden sense of dread rose up in her heart; she had gazed up at that same clock only eight hours ago, thinking that her day held nothing more than discovering what job she would be doing. Instead, she had been dragged out of her room at dawn by Brian and interrogated twice. She shivered as a cold wave of anxiety burned through her stomach, and she lay back on her pillow.

  Only a few more hours…for something to go wrong.

  Amber’s throat began to ache with despair, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the wave of hopelessness that was threatening to overwhelm her. Even if nothing stopped her, even if she managed to get out, she would still be alone out there in the vast dryland. She would die alone, just like Ayn, but as empty as that thought made her feel, it wasn’t what truly scared her. Somehow, the thought of surviving was even worse―surviving would mean that the loneliness would never end.

  The minutes dragged by, each one feeling like hours as she waited. She skipped lunch, unwilling to so much as venture out of her room for fear that doing so would invite opportunity for problems, and when it was finally time to head back to TPM, she practically bolted from her room. She clutched her book in front of her chest like a shield as she hurried to work, doing her best to ignore the fearful anticipation that was building inside of her as she approached the unit.

  Almost there, almost time, her echoing footsteps seemed to cry, and she paused when she reached the door, drawing a deep breath before stepping inside.

  Teresa looked up as Amber walked in; her eyes brightened, and she grinned as she waved.

  “You made it!” she beamed. “I wasn’t sure if the lab was going to keep you for the rest of the day!”

  Amber returned the smile.

  “I’m glad they didn’t.”