by Ann Christy
Joseph opened the door for them and then handed the attendant, a slight man attired in the pink coveralls of the service industry, three half-day vacation chits and a slip of paper that confirmed their reservation. The man gave the slip only the barest glance and the chits no attention at all as he deftly deposited them into a slot on the podium.
He led them to their table inside the Wardroom proper and Marina found herself resisting the urge to gape as they wound their way through the tables. One wall of the room was covered with a huge screen that was further divided into many smaller rectangular screens. On each of these rectangular portions, a view of some part of the silo appeared. It occurred to her that her childhood bouts of virtue in front of the cameras were seen by someone after all and she had to stifle a nervous giggle at the thought.
Their table, once Marina found herself capable of tearing her eyes from the screen to pay attention to it, was meant for four guests but one place setting had been left off. In the empty place sat a basket of fresh corn rolls and a small dish of perfectly round balls of herbed goat cheese to spread on the rolls. In front of each of the three chairs lay a cotton napkin folded into an elaborate shape.
As they sat and the attendant took his leave, murmuring something about taking their orders, all three couldn't help but run their hands over the table itself. Though the base was metal and bolted to the floor, the top was made of actual wood. It was banded around the sides with metal to protect the precious edges and polished so smooth the surface gleamed. She let her hand hover over the top and marveled to see the reflection of her palm in the shining surface. Marina had never seen so much wood in all her life and never of such size. The boards that made the top were a hand wide and perhaps two inches thick.
Joseph looked at her, a gleam in his eye, and whispered, "I told you it was special. I'm told that there used to be tables like this all over the place, but these are the only ones left. And what do you think of the screens?"
She looked at the screens again. Their table was situated so that both she and Joseph had an excellent view. Sela had to turn a bit to see it but she twisted in her chair willingly enough. Marina saw her eyes darting about the views as if cataloging all that she could identify.
"I'm amazed, Joseph. Truly. What do we do with this? Can we use it or is it just for show?" she asked, indicating the complex structure made of her napkin.
"Ah," he replied. "Just shake it out like so." He demonstrated for them by flicking the cloth sharply down at his side. He then spread it across his lap the same way they did at home.
Sela twisted back around in her chair and eyed the basket of corn rolls. "Umm...I like it too, but I'm hungry. Can I?"
She had the good manners to wait for an assenting nod, but wasted no time after that, grabbing one and splitting it wide. She speared a ball of the soft cheese with her fork and mashed it onto half of the roll, smearing it with a token swipe of the utensil before taking a huge bite. She chewed hungrily and her cheek distended enough to be comical. She grinned at her mother, small crumbs dotting her lips.
Marina shook her head with half-serious disgust and said, "You could try to eat like we feed you more than once a day, you know. People will think we didn't raise you right."
She looked around at the other tables. Another couple was being escorted in and there were four other tables with guests already seated. There were only twelve tables in all and Marina was glad it was not yet full so her daughter's actions might go unnoticed.
Joseph wisely kept silent but Marina saw the wink he directed at his daughter and the widening of her answering grin. She swallowed loud enough to be heard a few feet away and took a swig of the cold water the attendant had poured into their cups as they were seated. Another stern look directed at Sela seemed to work and she settled down after that. Marina thought perhaps it was merely nervousness that caused her to act out. Whatever it was, it seemed to pass and for that, Marina was grateful.
Their dinner was to come out to them rather than require them to get into a line. While it would be an interesting change, Marina liked to see food before she made choices on what to eat. The family's habit of eating their evening meal in their quarters rather than slogging it to one of the cafeterias had made her a bit pickier than she would easily admit to. The attendant, introducing himself as Davis, read them their choices and told them that their early dinner reservation meant that all the choices were still available to them.
Of the three choices for their main meal, two included meat, something Marina had never heard of in her life. Instead of responding with a choice, she asked, "How can that possibly not be wasteful?" There was a hint of accusation in her voice that she regretted, that she tried to bite back, but she also wanted to know the answer to her question.
Davis didn't appear to mind the question, or perhaps he was simply used to it, because his voice didn't change from the same smooth tones he'd been using. "The Wardroom prides itself on its careful management as well as the quality of its food. There is a strict cut-off for reservations and our menus are planned using those numbers. Early diners, like you, have the widest choices but when it is gone," he raised his shoulders in a small shrug, "it’s gone. There are no exceptions."
"What about the residents? The ones who can eat here any time?" she countered.
"They must make the same arrangements as anyone else if they choose one of the two main meal services. Those few that do live here most often eat from what remains or eat elsewhere. Everyone has the same limitation of two meats per week, of course. We have very few people in residence permanently. If there is anything left at the end of a meal, it is used for another meal." Again, the little shrug came through and she wondered how he did that. How does one shrug without actually shrugging?
Marina felt a bit sorry for the man, considering how often he probably got these questions. She smiled at him, trying to put a little extra warmth into it, and said, "I appreciate your very helpful explanation. I think I can enjoy this meal a great deal more now, thanks to your patience."
It was perhaps a bit over the top and she saw Joseph's eyebrows tick upward from the corner of her eye, but it worked and Davis' expression relaxed. He was no less formal but the chill was gone and there was a decidedly friendly tone as he advised them on their choices and took orders.
He brought them a metal pitcher sweating with condensation and filled three more cups with tea. It smelled like green heaven and had nasturtium blossoms floating in it. Davis plucked a pair of slender sticks from a pocket and deftly deposited one of the flowers into Sela’s cup. He winked at her surprised expression and left without a word. Joseph chortled under his breath at her while Sela just stared at Davis’ retreating back. Marina was delighted with the whole experience.
It was a matter of moments before he returned with three trays perfectly balanced using just one hand and arm. He set each meal down with a flourish and left them to eat in peace, this time without any flirtatious flower dropping.
Marina looked at her own tray and then the two others in wonder and took note of how each thing was arranged to be pleasing to the eye. It was something she had never once considered but it definitely did something to her belly. It was like a good taste that hit her stomach through her eyes instead of her mouth.
Joseph had chosen fish. His explanation that it was pre-emptive revenge should they rain down on them during the night had sent both women into giggles not entirely suppressed by the hands they pressed to their faces. Now that he had his tray, he merely grinned at the expression on both of the women's faces and took up a fork and knife to begin his meal.
Sela poked suspiciously at a few items she didn't recognize only to discover that they were familiar items cut into fantastic shapes, a radish cut like a flower and green onions made into strands so thin they looked like green hair. After that, she too dug in to her meal though Marina was glad to see that she remembered her manners. Sela's eggplant, fried crisp in a thick coating of herbed cornbread and amaranth crumbs then
smothered in tomato sauce, began to disappear at a steady rate.
Marina had chosen rabbit, not because she had a particular desire for it but because it was the third choice and her family had chosen the other two. Once she tasted it she realized she had made the perfect choice. It was cooked in a way that Marina had never seen before and so juicy that she had to be careful not to let it run down her chin. It wasn't fried and it wasn't boiled and it was like nothing else she could imagine.
They all tasted each other's food and pronounced each delicious but Marina secretly decided that her own was the most flavorful. It rested on a bed of parsnip puree. She liked parsnips well enough but couldn't imagine how they managed to get the tough roots to turn into this smooth and delicious pudding like substance.
There was no conversation during the meal. The only sounds were of people enjoying a meal around them in the dining room. As Marina chased the last green bean around on her tray, she felt a little embarrassed at the sounds she knew she had made. A quick glance around the dining room showed her that others were experiencing the exact same thing and she relaxed.
Joseph was the last to finish, taking the time to clean the bones of his fish of any tiny flakes of flesh that clung there. By the time he rested his fork and knife on the tray, the clock announced the approaching end of service. Marina heard the sigh in response from all over the dining room and the polite soft laughs that came directly after. A shared experience gave the room's temporary inhabitants a warm camaraderie.
Five minutes later the bell sounded again and it was time to leave. There was just an additional five minutes of time before anyone lingering would be taking up time meant for cleaning between seatings. In this respect the Wardroom was apparently no different than any other cafeteria in the silo and that pleased her. While she could not deny that she had enjoyed the new experience and the food, she felt uncomfortable with the idea that any place could be set apart. Sticking to a schedule made it seem more appropriate somehow.
As they left they nodded their thanks to Davis, who was again stationed at the reception podium. They passed by a line of people waiting for the next seating to begin. Only one group of three people in the line wore coveralls and they were clearly residents. They were deep in conversation and a passing listen told Marina that their topic was the aquaculture tank re-fit.
She forgot about them almost immediately as the family discussed the evening. Marina wanted to know about the view screens but Joseph only knew what he had been told when being considered for a position on the EMC. The same cameras people could view in the Memoriam and at any deputy station were also viewable in the Wardroom. Since that is where the EMC congregated if there was an emergency that needed extended response, it made sense.
Marina couldn't imagine any emergency so dire. Life was a series of small and not so small emergencies with gifts of calm between. Sometimes it was a fire someplace or a leak in a pipe. Other times it was blight on the crops or a sickness spreading in the animals. Other times it was the illness of a loved one or friend and sometimes their gift of cleaning on their way to death. She considered it a moment and realized that she had no memory of the EMC ever having been prominent in any situation.
Sela asked about the vacation chits. Marina had noted the little grimace she made when her father handed over the precious chits. She may not be earning them yet but she appreciated their value. One day's worth of vacation chits were earned for every fourteen days once one passed from shadow status. There was one mandatory day off that still counted as a work day on the 7th day of each 14 day cycle but some people regularly took additional days off, while others saved the chits up like their family did or just took them randomly as needed.
There were an almost infinite number of approaches an individual might take with respect to time off but one thing was certain; a day of vacation was valuable and non-transferrable. Giving away a vacation chit did not mean the new holder got to use that chit. It was simply not usable by anyone and gone forever.
Joseph considered his answer and as the family reached the little lounge area this particular landing had, he asked her a question. "What do your pay chits mean to you?"
Sela wrinkled her brow at the question, but she was her father's shadow and was familiar with his methods of teaching. He would lead her to her own answer. She appeared to think about it as they settled onto a bench. Finally she replied, "It means I can buy things and not ask you or Mom for chits. I guess it means I have more freedom. That's what it feels like."
He nodded as if this was the answer he expected and asked, "And what would it mean to you if you didn't live with us?"
"Well, it would mean that I had obligations for the chits and couldn't spend them just on things that I wanted. I would have to pay for the food I didn't get in the cafeteria. I would have to pay for things I needed for my compartment. I might have to pay for repairs and stuff like that, too. I guess that would mean I had less freedom than I do now when it comes to pay chits."
He added an encouraging smile to his nod this time and Marina could see the pride he held in his daughter writ large. "Very true. So, let's consider that. Let's say you're a person who lives right next to a cafeteria and works a shift that allows you to have every meal there. All things being the same otherwise, does that person have more freedom than you would with respect to their pay?"
Sela thought about it for a long moment, eyes toward the ceiling. "I think that would depend on lots of small things, but overall, I would say yes."
"Yes, I agree that there are many other considerations but I'm glad you're going with the general idea. And now I'll get to the point. If the Wardroom charged pay then some people would be able to enjoy it with much less sacrifice than others simply because of random circumstances. Even the value of pay chits is relative depending on the situation we find ourselves in. The only thing that has the exact same value to every single person in the silo is a vacation day chit. That's it. No matter who you are or where you are in the silo or how you live, a meal in the Wardroom will cost you a half day off. Make sense?"
Marina had watched the answer come over Sela as her father spoke. She understood before he finished speaking and looked down at her folded hands. The view of her face was obscured by her hair, let down from her tight braids for this special occasion. It was a long moment before she spoke and then she said, "So you just worked for six and a half days to give me that meal, Dad?"
He laughed and reached over to pat her knee. "You bet I did. But, on the upside, I got to work those six and a half days with you, didn't I?"
Chapter Seven
Marina's legs felt like they were about to fall off. She was pretty sure the painfully burning straps under the skin of her thighs that might have once been muscles were about to actually spring out of her body. They would fly out and over the rails and straight to the Down Deep where they would be swept up by maintenance and never return.
What made it even worse was that a quick glance behind her told her that the easy stride and pace of conversation between her two family members meant this climb was no big deal for them. It sucked.
In truth, it shouldn't have been such an ordeal. Yesterday they had climbed almost 50 levels. It was more than 50 if she counted the trip up and down the ramp at the Animal Farm. And now they were just taking a so-called short trip up to IT on 34. With each level being more than forty feet of distance, it was not a short climb and Marina should have realized there would be a price to pay.
It hadn't started out that way an hour ago. She had done all that Joseph suggested, performing some stretches that hurt like crazy to loosen her overworked muscles. She had a glass of water as well as juice and tea for breakfast at the hotel breakfast bar. When she took that first step on 50 she thought it would be fine.
It wasn't fine though. By the time they breasted the landing on Level 48, every step felt like balls of metal had been inserted under her skin and were rolling painfully across the surfaces of her muscles. There was a terrible pa
in in her left foot too, but not like a normal pain. Instead it was in the arch of her foot, horrible and sharp, each step bringing it forward and then pushing it back as the other foot took the lead.
She finally hobbled off onto the landing at Level 40 with tears in her eyes. Her embarrassment added more to the tears than just her pain. The concern on the faces of her husband and child as they followed her off the stairs made it worse still. They were actually confused by her discomfort and couldn't quite grasp the situation.
She shuffled off to the side of the landing and out of the way of the people who passed by. She eased herself down the wall with a groan till she was seated flat on the grating. She put her feet out in front of her and sighed as that sharp pain in her foot immediately began to subside and the strain on her leg muscles fell away.
It took her a moment to speak. "I'm sorry, guys. I really am. I feel like such a weakling compared to you two."
Joseph waved off her words and crouched next to her. He set down his pack and held his hands above her thigh, giving her a look that requested permission.
Marina grimaced but nodded and then bit down on her lip as his hands ran along the exact line in her leg that was causing her so much pain. Tears sprang to her eyes. He saw it, gave a decisive nod and rocked back on his heels.
"Well? What is it?" Marina asked, wiping away tears.
"Basically, it's just very overworked muscles. It happens," he spread his hands in a helpless motion, his expression sympathetic and also a little guilty. "I’ve seen it a few times when I brought someone up to the clinic or to the mediators and they weren't used to going so many levels at once.” His eyes flicked away from hers with even more guilt and he added, “Tourists, too. I should have known this would happen to you."
