CYPHER: A Dystopian Novel

by Barbara Winkes

  CYPHER

  A dystopian novel

  Barbara Winkes

  Copyright © 2018 by Barbara Winkes

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales are purely coincidental.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For D.

  Chapter One

  They came for her in broad daylight. There was already too much fighting going on for anyone to notice or care when they broke down the door to her apartment, two officers she’d trained herself the year before. They had changed sides quickly.

  Within seconds the floor was littered with pieces of wood and broken glass. A while ago, these men would have had to answer to her, now they were nothing more than hired goons, senselessly destroying. She didn’t try to resist, not even as they pushed her to the ground roughly enough for her to feel blood on her face. She had known this was going to happen sooner or later. She’d just hoped to be able to clear up a few more things before.

  She remained quiet as they wrenched her arms behind her back and tied her wrists with some sort of cable, and then put a sack over her head. It was getting hard to breathe. She knew there was no way she could negotiate with them. They followed orders as they had before.

  * * * *

  “What exactly is it you are complaining about, 51308?” the thirty-something year-old woman asked with unveiled sarcasm. She pronounced the numbers as Fifty-One—Three— Oh—Eight, the official way. It was the same officer as the last time, the one with the baby picture on her desk. She honestly seemed to have trouble understanding, but then again, she probably didn’t care.

  Ami forced herself to keep her back straight and suppress the sigh. This was her lunch break. She had to be back at work in less than half an hour or add the missed time at the end of her shift. There was no meal for her in the foreseeable future. Ami was tired and hungry. She tried once more.

  “It’s not Mr. Shelton. In fact, he’s hardly ever present, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. We get paid way below minimum, in fact, a sliver of the minimum, and we’re not even allowed to take any breaks except for a short lunch. That’s not fair, and it’s not healthy!”

  The woman regarded her over her glasses before she dropped her gaze back to Ami’s file. She looked bored.

  “You think you can judge what’s fair?” she asked. “May I remind you that you signed a contract, when was it, five years ago?”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  Tears were burning behind Ami’s eyes, but there was no way she’d break down in front of the Organizational Affairs officer. She came here thinking she could present her request in a calm and detached manner, that she wouldn’t let the officer get to her. At the moment, Ami was entertaining the fantasy of slapping her. That helped a little. She looked around the office, trying to calm her nerves.

  In the corner behind the officer’s desk stood Katlena Cervantes, wearing the black uniform of an inspector with the Identity Agency. IdA. It was mandatory that one of them attend these meetings, as the IdA was responsible for the conduct of cyphers. An administrative unit on the outside, they were in reality part of the City’s police. There had been incidents at Organizational Affairs before. A lot of people didn’t become aware of what exactly they had signed over until they got to experience everyday life. Like Ami. She wasn’t about to pull a knife on anyone though. Ami had a goal. She couldn’t take that kind of risk. Even if she’d wanted to, she was much too exhausted to formulate a plan like this.

  She glanced once more at Inspector Cervantes who seemed uninterested in the exchange. She couldn’t expect any help from her. Ami allowed herself a moment of regret. This was the second time that she was here, with Cervantes attending, but they hadn’t spoken a word outside of greetings. It was unrealistic to hope they could have a more pleasant conversation, or go out for a coffee afterwards.

  The tall woman had caught her eye right away. To her, though, Ami wasn’t a real person, but 51308, a minor irritation that took her away from her real day job.

  “I don’t see what the problem is,” the officer said. “Your signature states you were given, and had studied, all the necessary information. You knew your schedule would be quite different from what you were used to. That is up to your employer, and from what I know, he does pay you the required salary.”

  Ami scoffed, and the woman gave her a stern look.

  “Of course, most of it wouldn’t land in your pockets but presents a small compensation for what you are costing the government. Are you in danger of starving?”

  Ami shook her head.

  “Are you being harassed, sexually or otherwise?”

  “No,” she whispered, all of a sudden embarrassed. Inspector Cervantes kept the same rigid stance, but Ami could see the disbelief in her dark eyes. Cervantes held her gaze for a moment before she looked away.

  “I told you that is not the case. I…I’m not making any progress. That can’t be right.”

  There was no way of creating any savings when her wage per hour equaled a few cents, the rest being paid to the government who in turn, took care of the basic needs of the people called cyphers. She wasn’t starving, and she had a roof over her head. There was nothing she owned, nothing that promised a life ever again where she wasn’t just a number.

  “Well, in any case, that is your problem.” The officer shook her head. “I don’t have time for this, 51308. If you show up here one more time for no good reason, I’ll have to file a report with IdA. Contrary to what you say, I believe you have it pretty easy compared to many others of your kind. You don’t want to lose that.”

  Ami got up and walked out of the office without a word, unable to deal with the woman’s contempt any longer. The officer muttered something under her breath.

  Ami had almost reached the end of the hallway when she heard hasty footsteps and someone calling after her.

  “Hey! Wait a minute…Please?”

  That hesitation wasn’t new to her. In the past five years Ami had learned that many people didn’t know how to address a cypher. Using the numbers made them self-conscious. Katlena Cervantes was no exception. Since she was IdA, Ami was sure she didn’t have problems saying them correctly. Like most people, she probably preferred to avoid them altogether. She couldn’t use the birth name even though she probably knew it from the file. The law prohibited it. Ami waited until she had caught up.

  “What an unpleasant person,” Inspector Cervantes said.

  While Ami agreed whole-heartedly, she was careful. The Identity Agency wasn’t supposed to spy on cyphers, only guard their data, but rumor had it they were watching closely for any criticism against the system. The officer had been right in one thing: Ami didn’t want to do anything to make her situation worse. The hours she was slaving away in the secretarial pool of ShelTech were nothing compared to the fate of others she’d heard about, mostly women. If this had only been about herself, Ami might have given up already, let everything that had once defined her vanish in the daily routine. This wasn’t just about her. She couldn’t afford to give up.

  “She’s doing her job. I guess.” Ami shrugged.

  “She shouldn’t treat you this way,” Cervantes insisted. This was the first time they spoke to each other more than a mumbled “Good morning”. Ami couldn’t help but notice the dark pleasant timbre of the other woman’s voice. She could imagine…but she’d better not. Cervantes was probably good in interrogation, seducing the accused into telling their secrets. That was all Ami had to remembe
r.

  “I’m sorry, I need to run,” she said. “I’m already late for work.”

  “Your stomach is growling.”

  “Yeah, well, too bad for me.”

  Inspector Cervantes studied her intently. Ami blushed for no good reason.

  “Is it true what you said earlier? You have enough to eat?”

  The question was enough to kill the pleasant buzz of attraction. She didn’t want pity from anyone, and certainly not from a woman who was wearing the IdA uniform proudly.

  “I get the same as everyone else. If only I had time to eat, my life would be perfect.”

  “I could look into your case, see if—”

  “Thank you, Inspector. I really need to go,” Ami said with heart-felt regret. As much as she would have liked to spend more time with the inspector, ten minutes late would equal an hour more of work. She’d be home close to midnight, start another shift at five. There was a report to write too. She had no time to engage in pleasant ideas of a life that could have been. It would only hurt more in the end.

  * * * *

  16439 had been Ami’s neighbor ever since she’d moved into the unit in the CId building, the digits revealing she was older, and had been born in another part of the City than she lived in now. The name Cypher Id was rather misleading, given the fact that the people living here had lost their identities for various reasons. Tonight, Ami was much too tired to care as she climbed the stairs to the sixth floor. There was an elevator, but as usual, it was out of order. 16439, Cara, as she’d introduced herself to Ami, stood in her doorway across the hall, smoking a cigarette. Unlike Ami, she had thrown all caution to the wind long ago. She didn’t seem to know or care how easily the IdA could get to you.

  “Hey, girl. You look wiped. Why don’t you come on in?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been a long day.”

  “About the complaint you tried to file?”

  When Ami looked at her, it was enough to inform Cara about how it had gone. She laid an arm around Ami’s shoulders, steering her inside. “I’m so sorry, honey. Let me get you a glass of wine, wind down a little. You’ll sleep better.”

  “Where did you get the wine?” Ami asked, the words tumbling out before she had a chance to reconsider. Food delivery vans were often seen outside of the building, but alcohol wasn’t regularly included. There were rumors about a thriving black market, though nobody had ever approached Ami with a direct offer. It was better not to ask too many questions, or to know too much.

  Cara laughed. “I have my sources, you know.” Cara didn’t have a job. Her unit was fully paid by the City government, and she filed for extension each month on the grounds of psychological reasons. Funny that Ami considered her to be one of the sanest people she’d met in the past few years. It made the report she had to turn in tomorrow weigh on her even more. Maybe, with a little alcohol in her, it would be easier.

  Cara poured a glass for each of them and handed one to Ami.

  “Tell me about your day. You know how much I like to hear about the adventures of real people.”

  Ami took a deep swig of the wine. Since she hadn’t eaten in forever, the effect hit her almost instantly.

  “I’m as unreal as you are. I got yelled at by the OA officer, as you can imagine.”

  Cara scoffed. “They must sign somewhere not to use their brain under any circumstances whatsoever. They still send IdA people for the meeting?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wow, they must be afraid. Serves them right.”

  “I can’t stay long, Cara, I’m sorry. I have an early start tomorrow.”

  “You always have. You’re no fun,” Cara teased her. “Okay, I understand. Finish your wine at least. Maybe you can come over on the weekend?”

  Ami smiled in anticipation. “Maybe.” While she had to work on the weekend too, the hours were a little more bearable. Spending time with Cara would be a welcome distraction from the delusion that she could see Inspector Cervantes, ever again.

  She made it into her apartment nearly stumbling over her own feet, flopping down on the couch in the dark. There wasn’t much to see anyway. Ami told herself she’d stay for a few minutes, rest her eyes, then she’d get up and write that damn report. Possibly eat something. Just a few more minutes…

  When Ami woke, it was almost 3:00 a.m., and she was nowhere near rested, her awkward position on the couch only adding to her overall lousy condition. No more anarchy during lunch breaks. She’d use the next one for a nap. Raking a hand through her disheveled hair, Ami straightened and switched on a light, shivering, which came more from hunger and lack of sleep than cold.

  She opened the fridge, not finding anything appealing to her. She didn’t feel like warming anything up. Ami grabbed the next best thing, a container of jam, and a spoon. It would have to do. After a few spoonfuls, she started to write.

  “16439 makes an effort to improve her situation by leading a healthy lifestyle. She is actively looking for a permanent employment. There are no signs of illegal conduct.”

  Did it sound too generic? Would they believe her? Ami worried about these questions with each report, this one in particular. She was also distracted by the memory of the dream she’d had while sleeping on the couch. Oh no. This was not what she needed. Ami hadn’t gone on a date since she’d signed over her life, and with one exception, she hadn’t had any sexual relations for the same amount of time. For some reason, her subconscious had conjured the illusion of arms around her, the sensation of warm soft skin against her own. Ami couldn’t afford to go there, ever. She had a goal, a report to finish, and the damn shift that started in two hours. She couldn’t waste time dwelling on her sex dream starring Inspector Cervantes.

  If she’d stopped for a moment, Ami might be able to see what was going so terribly wrong. She might think about ways to change it. As it was, she couldn’t. The bus she was allowed to use would take her no further than the city limits. Even if she could have left, she didn’t have the means to start over elsewhere. The OA officer had told her that she shouldn’t complain. Many people would envy her for what she had, a roof over her head, a job, and food on the table.

  Five years ago, Ami had fantasized about a very different outcome. She would work hard to put some money aside, enough so she could buy back her life and do what was necessary to end the burning guilt eating her up from the inside every day. So they had sold it to her. The truth was, only a small percentage of cyphers were able to get their names and everything that came with it, back. The rest of them remained trapped in their daily existence. Cyphers were not supposed to join any association or union, so their only chance was to file a complaint with the OA, which, as Ami had learned, would lead nowhere either.

  She stared at the lines on her screen until they started to blur before her eyes. Ami had been able to keep her laptop and internet access, as she needed to keep in touch with her other employers. She didn’t want to harm Cara, but she wasn’t sure what was better, tell a little bit of the truth or none at all. Cara didn’t care, about anything. Ami didn’t know for how much longer she could protect her. At first, she’d been jealous of her neighbor, seeing she never left the house and always seemed to have smokes and booze at hand. Ami had learned that it was just another way to numb the pain. Most found ways to cope, more or less dysfunctional. Those who didn’t…She didn’t want to think about it. She wasn’t there yet.

  Glancing at her watch another time, Ami realized she wouldn’t have time to sleep before the next shift, the thought filling her with dread. She could barely keep her eyes open. Her hands were shaking. The sensation spread, and she felt herself struggling to keep the scream inside. She wouldn’t be the first to lose her mind. Ami had seen some of her building neighbors being rushed away in an ambulance. She’d never heard of any of them again. No. Not me.

  As she forced herself to take slow measured breaths, in and out, willing away the panic attack, Ami wondered what was so different from any other day. It wasn’t like this wa
s the first time she was aware of her defeat. The unpleasant meeting had reinforced what she’d known for a long time.

  She was tempted to lay all the blame on Inspector Cervantes, the first person who had treated her like a human being in a long time. Apathy presented a safe shell. Hope was the opposite of that, misleading and dangerous. Ami got up and walked over to the window, looking at the photograph that sat on the sill. She couldn’t give up. Not yet. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by something as profane as attraction, especially when she knew that she’d never see the woman again.

  Chapter Two

  The name AMI was written in big bold letters in the right upper corner of the bathroom mirror, with an old lipstick. It was a small but necessary comfort to see them every morning, her first conscious thought of the morning.

  This is who I am.

  Ami needed something easily removable in case there was a raid. Until she bought it back, using her own name was not allowed. According to all her legal papers, she was 51308 until further notice.

  Ami had always hated numbers.

  She was on the bus at four-thirty, pressing her fingernails into the palm of her hand in an effort to stay awake. She couldn’t have too much coffee, because going to the bathroom would be taken off the lunch break or added to the overall time. She had emailed the weekly report on Cara. Another of her charges was pregnant and currently in the hospital, so Ami knew there would be a new file waiting in her inbox tonight.

  Ami didn’t know why she’d been chosen, but she’d never given up hope that one day, this particular line of work could help her take a shortcut to where she really wanted to be. Her boss had hinted at it and that way, kept her on a long leash. Well, in fact the leash wasn’t that long at all. So far, they hadn’t granted her any advantage except the laptop. Ami hated spying on her neighbors, but at least it was a small break from the hours of boredom at ShelTech.