The Facility

by Eliza Green

  He glanced at the apple in Jason’s hand.

  ‘You’ve been taking your rations from the food in the back?’

  ‘Yeah, never from the floor.’

  ‘Good. It tastes better, anyway. Plus, I don’t need complaints. Workers aren’t supposed to disrupt the order runs. Arcis is a little paranoid about the transfer of germs, and all that.’

  Max stood up.

  ‘After work.’

  Ω

  Jason waited by the lockers for Max after his shift. He changed out of his boiler suit, snapped off his gloves and placed them and the suit in a nearby sanitising bin. He retrieved his bag with the empty soup container inside while his stomach fluttered.

  What did Max want with him? Of course he had wondered about the outside, but surely a month wasn’t long enough for radiation to dissipate and crops to grow again. And why was he the only one being asked to stay back?

  The door to the factory floor opened and Max swept past Jason as if he wasn’t there. He removed a flat black screen the size of his palm from a cradle on the wall. It hissed and crackled as Max slapped his finger on its flat front. He cursed at the glitchy tech. Jason had done his best to repair the screen, but even his knowledge of electronics couldn’t rescue the basic model. The screen, donated from Praesidium, had a processor and chips soldered into a circuit board. The kids from the towns referred to the old tech as ‘the white city’s hand-me-downs’. Jason understood Praesidium had tech far more advanced than anything he’d seen.

  Max hit the screen a few more times, then gave up. He put it back into its recharging holder.

  ‘Come with me.’

  Jason stumbled as he followed him outside. ‘Where are we going?’

  Max walked towards the bungalows. Jason struggled to keep up with his longer strides.

  ‘I’m taking you home.’

  In the residential area half a kilometre away, the bungalows were laid out in four neat rows, each set to follow the curve of Essention’s perimeter wall. The hospital block, slightly taller than the Monorail, was lit up like a yellow beacon in the distance.

  Jason followed Max down a small access road to the row of houses closest to the perimeter: a group of fifteen bungalows in total. Max turned towards a grey-bricked bungalow with a black roof, four windows to the front and a faded-green door. Unlike the terraced houses in East, no two properties looked alike here. Jason hated the monochromatic, sterile units in East. These houses had personality, like his old home.

  Max used a key to open the door and Jason followed him inside. Before Jason could ask what he was doing there, Max removed what looked like a metal pipe with three small holes from his coat pocket. He waved the device over Jason’s wrist and a faint blue light lit up his skin.

  ‘Why are you scanning me?’

  ‘I’m not. I’m temporarily disrupting your location. You’re not supposed to be here.’ He gestured to the next room.

  Jason stepped inside a living room with a green sofa and two matching chairs. A bright green-and-red rug covered the wooden floor. The walls were painted in warm ochre with wood panelling on the bottom half. Charlie Roberts sat hunched over in one of the chairs, shining a torch at something in his hand. Family photos adorned one wall. Neither Max nor Charlie was in any of them. Jason wondered who used to live in this house.

  ‘I’m glad you decided to come, Jason.’ Charlie gestured to the sofa. ‘Please sit.’

  Jason did.

  ‘Why am I here?’

  Max sat beside him and rested his arms on his knees. Jason dried his sweaty palms on his trousers.

  ‘We’ve been watching you for a while,’ said Charlie, putting the torch and whatever else was in his hand on the table beside him. ‘You know your way around electronics.’

  ‘Yeah, it was my skill at school.’

  ‘It’s our belief that Essention is keeping the truth about the outside from us. We believe the towns are no longer contaminated, and we want volunteers to help verify that. We need experts like you to help us improve our equipment—soil sample analyses, Geiger counters to measure radiation levels, whatever we need. So we can keep a better eye on what’s going on out there.’

  Jason stared at Charlie, then at Max. ‘Why would they keep that from us? It doesn’t make sense. We’re eating their food and using valuable water. I’m sure when they’re ready, they’ll let us leave. What if we just asked them?’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ said Max.

  Jason recoiled at his sharp tone. ‘I’m only suggesting we ask. They might grant us temporary leave.’

  Charlie stood up and paced the room. ‘You shouldn’t have brought him here. He’s not ready.’

  ‘Give me a minute,’ said Max.

  Charlie stopped pacing and sat down as Max turned to face Jason.

  ‘The machines in this urbano are part organic. They’re afraid of two things: the rebels, and contamination getting inside the urbano. If we ask to leave, they will condemn us to the hospital for as long as their paranoia lasts. We just want to take a quick look around and be back before we’re missed.’

  Jason was torn. Was freedom better than the safety of Essention? ‘What about the rebels? Are they still operating out there?’

  ‘Their numbers are small, and there’s no sign of them in the towns. They won’t expect us to go back there. And before you ask, no, we’re not working with the rebels.’

  ‘You’ve wondered about the outside, haven’t you?’ said Charlie. His smile was faint, as if he’d lived a thousand lives, dealt with a thousand problems. ‘Most scientifically minded people have. It’s a problem with you intellects. You always need something to solve.’

  Jason rubbed his forehead. ‘Yeah, sure, I’ve wondered. But how do we get past Essention’s guns? I don’t understand why they would stop us from going home.’

  Charlie stared at Max. ‘You said he was eating the leftover stock. This won’t work if he’s still under.’

  ‘He told me he was.’

  Max looked at Jason who replied, ‘Yeah. The stock from the back, like you said.’

  Charlie grabbed the torch and stood. Before Jason could protest, he was shining a light into his eyes. ‘Well, the eyes don’t lie. He’s still eating their food.’ Charlie flicked off the light and huffed.

  ‘Have you been eating anything meant for Arcis?’ said Max.

  ‘Sometimes my sister brings her rations home. I had one of her sandwiches this morning.’

  Charlie cursed under his breath. ‘He’s no good to us if he’s under the influence. See how quickly he sides with them? We need to counteract the effects permanently.’

  Jason frowned. ‘Influence? What are you talking about?’

  Max left the room and returned with a syringe and a vial.

  Jason drew away when Max sat beside him and stuck the needle into the vial.

  ‘What’s that for?’

  The syringe filled with orange liquid and Max grabbed Jason’s arm. Jason tried to twist out of his grip.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Please stay calm. It’s an antidote.’

  ‘To what?’

  ‘To the drug they put in the food and water supply. It can stay in the body for several days. Every time you eat, you’re simply topping it up.’

  Jason shook his head. ‘It’s just anti-radiation medicine. You said so yourself.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s much more serious than that,’ said Charlie. ‘It puts you in a trance. You believe everything you’re being told. Without question.’

  Jason shrank back as Max came at him with the needle. But Max, stronger than him, jabbed the needle into his upper arm. He pushed the plunger and Jason’s head swam.

  ‘What did you give me?’

  He swayed on the sofa.

  ‘Essention is drugging us,’ said Max. ‘We call it “Compliance”. It dulls the senses by calming your most active thoughts and nerves. It also suppresses anger. Your willingness to believe everything you’re told about this plac
e is also one of the side effects. We’ve given you something to make you immune to its effects. It should kick in soon. What you’ll feel is a concentration of everything you’ve had suppressed.’

  Jason’s hands started to tingle. The heaviness in his mind lifted and a sudden anger rippled through him.

  ‘What did you give me?’ He stood up too fast, an action that caused his heart to pound. ‘Why do I want to punch something really hard?’

  Max stood up and steadied him with his hand. Jason tried to focus on Max but he moved too fast.

  ‘Take a deep breath. It’s just a side effect. The drug makes your emotions feel foggy. You don’t notice the problem until the fog has lifted. The anger will dissipate soon and you should feel like your old self in a few hours. You’ll also see things a lot clearer.’

  The rage bubbled and boiled inside of Jason. He balled his fists and spoke through clenched teeth.

  ‘Is that why you told us to take our rations from the back?’

  Charlie nodded. ‘Even with clean food the drug stays in the system. Your hands shake. Your eyes stay dilated, like a drug addict’s. But over time, and with a controlled diet, the effects can be weakened. The antidote works instantly, but I’ve only been able to get my hands on a few vials. We’ve had to be selective about who gets the treatment. Compliance should no longer affect you, even if you eat contaminated food or drink. And don’t panic if you notice your eyes are still a little dilated. That’s just to fool those who run Essention.’

  ‘Is that why I’m here? To be cured?’

  The room was still spinning, but slower than before.

  ‘Partly,’ said Max. ‘There’s something in the basement I want to show you, when you’ve calmed down.’

  Jason shook off his anger that made him want to bolt from the house. ‘I’m calm.’ He drew in an uneven breath. ‘You’d better tell me something goddamn specific, Max, or I swear I’m out of here.’

  ‘It’s a tunnel,’ Max said quickly. ‘It’s how we’re going to escape Essention.’

  6

  Anya stared at the rainbow-coloured walkways as her mind flitted between good and bad thoughts. Pain permeated through eyes she refused to close. Closing them only brought back the horrors of that night in Brookfield.

  Stop. Don’t even think about it.

  Her hands shook. A couple of hours had passed since she’d eaten something. The bad thoughts wormed their way into her mind. She couldn’t explain why, but the anti-radiation medication took the edge off.

  A door slammed overhead, cutting into her waking nightmare. Her thoughts dissipated like wisps of smoke; but soon they would reform.

  A young man ran across the first-floor walkway. She had been trying to figure out the reason for the faster tempo one floor up, so different from the leisurely pace on the ground floor until the dogs showed up. Then Anya picked up her speed. All she knew was the type of work differed from floor to floor.

  The smoke reformed, and the memories of that night punched her in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut for as long as was bearable.

  Seconds.

  She counted.

  The double-crack of thunder still rang in her ears.

  Muffled crying.

  Jason’s.

  She had been oddly silent.

  Anya was to blame for her parents’ death. She saw the way Jason sometimes looked at her. The rebels had wanted her. That’s why Grace had been so angry. She’d messed up. But she had no idea why anyone wanted her bad enough to kill her parents over it.

  She tried to keep them out, but the memories strolled through a wide gap in her defences.

  ‘Who’s at the door, Dad? Who are you and Grace so scared of?’

  ‘Nobody you need to worry about. Come on. We don’t have much time.’

  Evan loosened a large section of panelling. There was a small air vent at the bottom, and the gap between the walls was clean and dry.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  ‘Open up or we’re coming in.’

  He pushed down on her shoulders. ‘Behind the wall, out of sight. Just like we practised.’

  ‘And Jason?’

  ‘He can look after himself.’

  ‘So can I, Dad. Please, let me help. I’m not a kid anymore.’

  ‘No arguments. Your mother and I need this.’

  Anya’s stomach lurched at the thought of helping Grace. But she trusted her father.

  She squeezed into the wall space she remembered being bigger back when she was fourteen. Evan replaced the panel, and she lay down with her face near the air gap. There was a short, flat sound as he moved the bed back into position.

  He dashed out of the room and left the door open. During their little games, he had said she needed her sight. Through the gap she could see the front door and her mother’s stockinged feet.

  Her father opened the door. Two sets of male feet entered and lingered near the sofa. The men wore black trousers and black leather shoes. Sturdy, practical.

  ‘I’m so sorry. We didn’t hear—’

  ‘Where is she?’ said one of the men.

  Grace forced a laugh. ‘Who?’ She stepped back, partially blocking Anya’s view.

  Anya imagined her fake-smiling and smoothing down her hair, as she often did when they had company.

  ‘The girl.’

  ‘Oh,’ her father said, as if surprised. ‘She’s not here.’

  ‘Hand her over and you get to live today,’ said the second man. He idled near the door, by the sideboard with a collection of framed photos, including a family group shot featuring Anya.

  ‘It’s the right house,’ said the second man.

  The first man pushed past Grace.

  ‘I told you she’s not here.’

  Grace blocked the path of the second man. He pushed her to the side causing her to stumble. The man moved further into the room, out of Anya’s view.

  ‘You can’t take her,’ said Grace. ‘She’s matched and useless.’

  Useless. The words punched Anya in the lungs.

  A sudden shriek pierced the air, followed by a loud thud. Grace slumped to the floor, shaken but okay. She protected the top of her head with her hand. Anya clamped a hand over her mouth before her scream could escape.

  No sound. Never let them know where you are. That was part of the game. Her father used to say it. When you’re old enough, they’ll come for you.

  She saw her father rush to Grace’s side. He smeared his thumb through a trickle of crimson blood that was working its way down her face. Grace flashed a look to the hiding place. Anya remained as still as possible while her body flooded with cold, shivering fear.

  One of the men grabbed her father and yanked him away from Grace.

  ‘Please,’ he said. ‘We’re telling you the truth.’

  There was a dull clunk and her father dropped to his knees.

  ‘Stop it. Don’t hurt them,’ said Jason.

  Anya couldn’t see her brother. He kept shouting, until his voice became muffled. She saw Evan flash him a warning look.

  ‘I won’t ask again.’

  The first stranger hovered over her stricken parents.

  ‘She left with her friends this morning,’ said Evan.

  ‘Which friends?’

  ‘I don’t know. From school.’

  ‘You’re lying.’

  Grace shuffled closer to her husband’s side. ‘Please. We’re begging you. She’s matched.’

  Anya pushed against the false wall, but the bed wedged up against it reminded her to stay put. Jason’s muffled voice got louder and she stopped pushing, held her breath. Two pairs of feet, one resisting, blocked her view of the living room. The second man searched her bedroom, with Jason in tow, before moving back to the living room.

  ‘No!’ said her father. ‘Please. Leave the boy alone. I can explain...’

  ‘You’re wasting our time.’

  A double-crack sent a sharp blast through Anya’s eardrums, but through the pain she watched. S
he blinked and her parents slumped forward. She blinked again and the two men left, slamming the front door. Ruby-red blood snaked along the worn wooden floor towards her room.

  She blinked a third time and saw Jason on his knees, shaking Grace, and then their father. He lifted his hands that glistened red.

  Anya’s throat tightened. She tried to shake the ringing from her ears as she pushed against the panel. The bed groaned in protest, and she crawled out of the wall space and stumbled to the edge of the sofa.

  She froze when she saw her parents lying motionless on the floor.

  None of it was real.

  ‘Are they okay?’ she whispered.

  Jason shot her a hard look. ‘What do you think?’ His bloodshot eyes matched the colour of his hands.

  More gunfire outside. New bodies falling. The ringing in her ears muffled the sounds.

  Salty tears left a trail of tightness on her face. Tiny drops of blood slithered down her arm from where she had dug her fingernails into the skin...

  Anya sucked in a lungful of the crisp atrium air and squeezed her eyes shut. The nightmares were her punishment but the look on Jason’s face was the worst. He blamed her for everything, even if he never said it.

  A warm hand on her shoulder caused the breath to rush out of her. She looked up into the brown eyes of Dom Pavesi.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he said.

  Anya nodded fast, eager to dispel any follow-up questions.

  ‘Good. Because the dogs are coming.’

  He jogged over to one of the cleaning vestibules, took out two buckets and two mops and returned to his section. The others followed suit. Anya’s hunger rooted her to the spot.

  Dom stood with his hands behind his back. She guessed he was eighteen; a year older than her.

  Her grey overalls bulged with a day-old apple. Her hands shook as she pulled it out and took a bite. She hated the too-sweet flavour but food was the only thing that calmed her.

  The shutter squealed and rolled up into the wall. She ate faster. Her hands had steadied by the time she finished the apple. She tossed the core into Dom’s spare bucket and waited with the twenty-nine other participants for the wolves. She had only been in Arcis for three days, but already she was used to their daily appearance.