CENTER 82 (RATION)

by Christina J Thompson

  “Me, too,” Teresa chuckled, making a face. “You never can tell with them. Oh, you brought a book?”

  Amber gulped as she nodded.

  “I like to read, I thought I’d bring it just in case there was time.”

  “I wish,” Teresa sighed. “They keep us much too busy for that here, unfortunately. Come on, I’ll get you started. The groups usually leave at nightfall but everything is still running behind, which means we have a lot to do.”

  Amber followed the woman towards the taps along the wall.

  “This is the water station,” Teresa said as she pointed. “Most of our groups are heading out to Coastal One, which is a really long trip—it takes almost a month, but we’re hoping that will eventually change once the old vehicles get fixed. At least, that’s what we tell ourselves, but we all know better even if we don’t want to admit it. We’ve been hoping for the vehicles to be fixed for years, and the people before us hoped for years, and the people before them…you get the idea. The administration always says next cycle—it’s been next cycle for a hundred cycles by now.”

  Teresa scoffed, rolling her eyes; her gaze fell on the taps, and she seemed to refocus.

  “Right, lots to do! Okay, so this is the water station—I already said that—and these…” She pointed at the empty sacks that hung on the racks beside the spigots. “These are what you’ll be working on.”

  She motioned for Amber to step closer.

  “There’s a list right here,” Teresa said, gesturing at several pages that had been stuck to the wall above the taps. “We’re done with the first one, so you’ll start with the second. First order—five gallons of water times thirteen people for group four. Fill the bags, tie them off, and set them over there. Got it?”

  Amber nodded.

  “I think so.”

  “Great!” Teresa crowed happily. “I need to finish up the food orders, but let me know if you have any questions. We’ll take a break for dinner in a couple hours, then you and I will have time to talk!”

  She moved towards the conveyor belt system; Amber watched as she pressed a button, and a moment later, the system came to life. Strips of dried ration meat appeared as the belt slowly turned to descend out of the ceiling, and Teresa grabbed them as they passed, counting them out and tossing them into bins.

  Amber pursed her lips and set her book on the floor, selecting a sack marked with a number five and opening it. The trip to Coastal One sounded similar to the one she was planning, which made things a bit easier—she just needed to grab one of the supply bundles meant for the group that was preparing to head there.

  She glanced up as she finished filling the first sack, surveying the room. There weren’t many people there, making it more likely that her absence would be quickly noticed, but the area by the exit door was partially shielded from view by the racks of supplies. Nervousness fluttered in her belly—only a few more hours.

  ≈

  Ayn held his breath as Andreas stepped towards him; she had given him two doses of supplements, and he knew what was coming next.

  “Watch the screens,” she called to Noah. “And don’t forget to set the machine to save the results to the server.”

  “We don’t have space to save any more data,” Noah replied. “I’ll just print the temporary file before it’s overwritten―”

  “I deleted one of the old ration strain files from the private research archive,” Andreas snapped. “There’s enough space for this.”

  He gasped.

  “You know that’s not allowed! The board already decided that we couldn’t afford to delete anything else―”

  “And I’ll know exactly who told them if they come looking for me,” she growled, glaring at him. “Just do what you’re told, and hurry.”

  She was clutching a scalpel, and Ayn steeled his nerves as she moved to his side.

  “Are you ready, Mr. Meyers?”

  “Ready,” he called back.

  Ayn felt the tip of the blade touch his shoulder; Andreas slowly applied pressure, twisting the scalpel as she stabbed it into his bicep. He maintained his calm despite the agony, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the reflection of the room in the light above him, but he knew holding back his reaction wouldn’t make a difference at this point. There were still ten minutes to go before the extra power to the lab would be cut, which was already too late for him.

  Noah let out a quiet cry, and Ayn’s heart sank.

  “Doctor! Come look at this!”

  Andreas left the scalpel in the ration’s arm and bolted across the room, her stomach leaping into her throat as she pushed Noah aside. She held her breath as she frantically studied the readout on the screen, closing her eyes for a moment before checking again. The results were undeniable—despite the supplements, the ration was still feeling pain.

  “I did it,” she whispered in shock. “David was right…this whole time they said he was crazy, they said he was a traitor, but he was right!”

  She braced herself against the edge of the desk, her mind reeling. Finally, after six months of hell, she had proven it.

  “Print the results,” Andreas said, stepping towards the restraint platform. “And make sure the data saved to the server.”

  Ayn held his breath as Andreas yanked the scalpel out of his shoulder. Urgency rose up in his heart as she stitched the wound―she was close to finding her answers, and he still didn’t have a full plan figured out yet.

  She finished the last stitch, removing her gloves and releasing the restraint straps. Ayn could see excitement sparkling in her eyes, and she pulled him to his feet, shoving him towards the cage.

  “We’re done for now, Mr. Meyers,” Andreas announced. She quickly secured the lock before grabbing the pages from the printer. “Get the lab cleaned and shut everything down.”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  Ayn sat down on the floor inside the cage, watching as Andreas left. He focused his attention on Noah; the man seemed to be in a hurry, and instead of cleaning the lab as he had been told to do, he bolted for the door only a few minutes later. Ayn raised a brow. The lab assistant was up to something.

  He pushed the thought out of his mind—he had more important things to worry about. He leaped to his feet and unlocked the cage, climbing out and reaching for one of the spare labcoats hanging on a hook in the corner of the room. The facility would shut down soon, and he only had a few hours to come up with a plan.

  ≈

  Noah stepped towards the railing of the walkway outside the lab, leaning over the edge to look. He could see Andreas’ figure hurrying down the staircases below, and he scoffed under his breath as he counted each floor she passed. She was likely running straight to Smith with her results, no doubt planning to break protocol yet again by sharing data with an administrator, but to his surprise, she didn’t stop on Smith’s level. Instead, she kept going down to the residential levels.

  He frowned, shaking his head dismissively as he turned away. Whatever she was up to now didn’t interest him, he had what he needed. The fact that she had defied the board’s order by deleting an archived file should be more than enough.

  He ran up the stairs to level twenty, not even bothering to knock as he burst into Brenda’s office.

  “I got it!” Noah crowed triumphantly, gasping for breath as he collapsed in the chair across from her. “I got what you needed!”

  Brenda’s face brightened; she leaned forward, eagerness in her eyes.

  “What happened?”

  “Andreas defied your order! She deleted a file from the research archive to make room for her new test results!”

  Brenda scoffed in disappointment.

  “That’s not enough for me to remove her,” she answered, rolling her eyes. “That’s a simple protocol violation, it’s not even worth bringing up.”

  “But…but I thought the archive decision was such a big deal,” Noah protested. “Everyone was warned that the information
was too valuable to delete.”

  “The researchers ignore that order almost every day, Mr. Meyers. We reached the limit of our data storage capacity over thirty years ago, we can’t save new information without overwriting the older files. By now, almost every digital record more than a decade old is gone, and even the old hardcopies are being recycled to make new pages. The library is the only thing that’s truly off-limits.”

  “But the order―”

  “Was meant more for the administration than for us,” Brenda told him. “It was to prevent the executives from trying to take valuable space that we need to keep track of our research.”

  Noah’s shoulders sagged, and he heaved a sigh.

  “I’ll let you know when I have something else,” he muttered, standing up to leave.

  “And the test results?” she called after him. “You said she deleted the archived file to save her test results—what were they?”

  He shrugged.

  “Nothing definitive, and she likely won’t be able to do much with them now that the extra power to her lab has been cut.”

  Brenda gave him an expectant look, waiting for him to continue, and he sighed again as he sat back down.

  “I’m telling you, they aren’t that significant,” he said. “It’s not definitive like David’s tests were. She administered two doses of supplements to the ration and introduced pain stimulus. The theta system showed that the doses didn’t have any impact on the ration’s neural response―”

  “You’re telling me that supplements didn’t have an effect? The ration’s ability to sense pain wasn’t altered at all?”

  “No. The readings were the same before and after the supplements were given.”

  Brenda cocked her head, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

  “That’s not significant at all.”

  “I know, that’s what I just said. I think there’s a problem with the ration’s nervous system, probably because Andreas overdosed it on supplements for so long. It can still walk around and move, but the pain…”

  Noah’s voice trailed off as he finally noticed the look she was giving him. He cringed, instantly realizing that he had missed the sarcasm in her previous response.

  “Mr. Meyers,” Brenda began, her tone condescending. “I’m not sure if you understand the definition of the word ‘significant’. You just told me that Andreas proved that this ration isn’t responding to at least one of the effects of the supplements, and in my opinion, that seems to be a pretty goddamn important detail.”

  “It would be if she knew why!” Noah huffed defensively. “She still has no idea what David did―it’s one test, there’s no other evidence to back up those results!”

  “Except for the fact that you just said the ration can still move. It’s not exhibiting a reaction to pain, and its brain patterns remain unchanged pre- and post-administration of supplements. Those are two extremely significant pieces of evidence, Mr. Meyers, or do you not know the meaning of that word, either?”

  He dropped his gaze, fuming in embarrassment as she stood up.

  “Where is Andreas now, Mr. Meyers?”

  “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “She left the lab and headed to the residential levels.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I watched her leave because I thought she was going to Smith and I wanted to tell you if she did.”

  “You can go,” Brenda told him, waving dismissively as she walked towards the door. “Report back to me if you learn anything else, especially if you think it’s insignificant.”

  Noah nodded quickly and followed her out of the office, hanging his head as he slunk down the stairs.

  Brenda watched him leave, loathing rising in her throat. The man repulsed her; he was a traitorous, self-serving liar, but she needed him for now. Getting rid of Andreas was more important than anything else, even if it came at the cost of allying herself with someone like him.

  She made a face as she headed for level twelve. The results of this test were too concerning to ignore, which meant that there was another ally she needed to make. Unfortunately, she would prefer Noah over him any day.

  †‡†

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Amber finished filling the water sacks for the last group’s order, quickly tying the final one and waving to catch Teresa’s attention.

  “I think I’m done,” she called, gesturing at the row of bags that had formed behind her. Teresa grinned as she walked over to look.

  “That was quick!” she beamed. “Good job, Amber, I’m impressed!”

  Amber glanced away. The woman was nice, and part of her almost felt bad for what she was planning to do. She hoped Teresa wouldn’t get into any trouble for it.

  “Thanks,” Amber muttered as she shifted her weight on her feet. “But it’s not really that hard.”

  “The job is easy, yes, but you’d be surprised how many new arrivals don’t care enough to do it right,” Teresa said. “They overfill the sacks and make a mess, or underfill and we have to redo them all. I usually spend half of my shift yelling at everyone to pay attention and stay on task, then they all think I’m a mean boss-lady who hates them.”

  Amber couldn’t help smiling; she couldn’t imagine anyone thinking Teresa was mean.

  “So what next?”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re going to regret asking me that,” Teresa chuckled. “Because next, you get to carry all of those bags over to the staging area, where we add the food that goes with them. I’ll help you, just be careful that you don’t hurt yourself.”

  Amber reached for the first bag.

  “The sacks of dirt from the mine weighed a lot more,” she said, carefully balancing herself as she picked up another one. “I had to carry three of them about a quarter of a mile to the dumping ground.”

  “How much weight?” Teresa asked, her eyes wide as Amber picked up a third bag.

  “At least a full 150 pounds.”

  “We got a full 250 pounds this harvest…”

  The words triggered her memory, sending her father’s voice echoing in her mind yet again, and she held her breath for a moment against the wave of bitterness that washed over her.

  “Are you okay?”

  Amber glanced at the concern that had appeared on Teresa’s face, nodding quickly.

  “I’m fine. Where do I put these?”

  Teresa picked up a bag and jerked her head towards an open space on the floor near the exit. Numbered squares had been painted on the floor, and she set her bag down, pulling a list out of her pocket.

  “Four bags in grid one,” she said, pointing. “And four bags of food.”

  Teresa darted towards one of the bins she had been working on, her feet lifting off the ground as her short frame leaned over the edge to retrieve four bags of dried meat. She dropped them next to the bags of water.

  “That’s it, pretty simple. I’ll help―”

  “Teresa! The algae cases are breaking!”

  She turned to look, and Amber followed her gaze; there were large, plastic-wrapped blocks stacked up across the room, and it looked like several of them had exploded. Teresa whispered a curse.

  “It’s all compressed for transport,” she sighed, making a face. “Once the plastic breaks, it ends up everywhere. Can you handle this?”

  Amber nodded, and Teresa gave her the list.

  “Just go one by one, let me know if you have any questions. Oh, and when you’re done, carry the bundles over to the compartments that match the number on the floor, okay?”

  Teresa ran towards the mess that was quickly forming, and Amber glanced at the list she had been given. It was different than the one she had followed to fill the water orders; at the top, there was an extra section that showed the time each group was supposed to leave. She turned to look at the clock on the wall behind her. Only an hour until midnight―according to the list, the first group would be arriving soon.

  Anxiou
s goosebumps scattered over her skin as she hurried to finish the orders, then she began carrying the bundles over to the exit. She was almost finished by the time she heard the main doors open, and she looked up to see a line of people dressed in travelling clothes start walking in. Relief filled her heart—there were a lot of them, more than enough to hide amongst while she made her escape.

  Amber grabbed her book from where she had left it, mentally choosing which bundle of supplies she wanted. Her eyes focused on the exit; the door opened as the first person stepped outside, and she shot a glance in Teresa’s direction. The woman was still preoccupied with the algae, and Amber swallowed hard as she picked up the bundle and headed into the crowd that had congregated near the door.

  A sudden realization dawned on her—her clothes didn’t match theirs. Her heart leaped into her throat as sweat instantly beaded up on her forehead, but she tried to force herself to stay calm. No one seemed to be paying much attention to her, all of them pushing and jostling to find their supplies, and she steeled her nerves. The door opened again, and she shivered in the wake of the cold, night air that blew inside.

  She felt numb as she moved to stand in front of the door. The person behind her was tall enough to block her from view, and she knew she finally had her chance.

  Go, Amber whispered in her heart. Just GO!

  She held her breath, and a moment later, she was standing outside.

  The night sky shrouded her in darkness, and she instantly darted to the side, pressing her back against the facility’s steel exterior wall as the door swung shut. Her vision swam for a moment as she gasped for breath, but she couldn’t tell if it was from terror or her lungs adjusting to the thin air outside. The door opened as another group left the facility; they passed right by her as they headed south, mere feet away from where she stood, but they didn’t see her.

  Amber bolted the moment it was safe. The sharp winter wind bit at her face as she ran, but she had never felt more grateful for the cold in her life. She glanced at the stars, a strange peace rising up in her heart as she gazed at them. Until now, she hadn’t realized just how much she had missed seeing an endless horizon.