“As anyone who watched my first lectures could see, the problem now is not in the number of citizens, but the consumption of each citizen. Since the Facility maintains everything for us, there really isn't any purpose in our daily lives. As such, we consume more – both in terms of resources and entertainment. The labor class that we instituted for necessary tasks have become a stench to the general public. But strangely enough, I've envied them for years. With their actions, they have purpose. I'm reminded of a scripture when I think of them... Sweet is the sleep of a laborer, whether he eats little or much, but the full stomach of the rich will not let him sleep. I did not understand how that could be true when I was still on the surface, but ever since my idle stomach has remained always full, I have. And interestingly, the book that those words are from will no doubt be burned when they discover it under my pillow after the death handed to me tomorrow morning.
“To balance the creation of new resources, we knew we had to lower consumption. When we set an age limitation of one hundred and twenty years, very few citizens objected. I think they understood how much more they had already been given... If they were not in the Facility's care, that would have been a difficult age to reach anyhow, and they were happy to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. After all, the premise of this Facility was to allow for an equal opportunity for all, and they had already had their opportunities.
“Over the coming years, the age limitation crept to where it currently is – eighty years – with exemptions for anyone the Regulation Committee felt deserved it. It's quite interesting to allow my fate to be in the hands of children that were born in the very Facility that I helped create, but I suppose that it's justice. For the first fifty years in here, I was part of many of these decisions; deciding who lives, who dies. Deciding who had special favor in the supposed equality that we had forced upon our citizens.
“I was hailed as a visionary when we shut the doors. Some called me a savior. But I was stupid. At twenty five, I was only a child, and my childish ideas were all theories. I was far too stubborn to see that I had not experienced the world. Instead, I sought to convince men and women – who had experienced – that we could succeed where others had failed. I rose quickly in the political system of the time, and was given too much power.
“What a grand experiment we had planned. But to many of those above me who were siphoning the money and resources, it was more than an experiment. It was a guarantee that they would never have to answer for their actions. A clean slate, where they could control truth. I was unaware, and because I was proud, I was easy to manipulate.
“I've known the truth for a great many years now, but I've been a coward. They have paraded me around to infer that I approve of the new regulations, to show that the only one remaining of the original Leaders commends their activities. In return, they grant me a longer life.
“Or rather I should say that they don't kill me.
“I now know that the others that I started with have been dead for years. Not because of their lack of vision, but rather because of it. They could not stand by and watch this failed experiment silently, so they were silenced. All while the children of the old political system became the players in the new.
“Well, I can no longer live with myself. I finally, without reservation, have decided that an honest death is better than a deceitful life. I'm quite ashamed that it has taken me this long. I regret that I've waited until there is really nothing I can do to right my wrongs. They took away my access to the Central Facility Computer many years ago so that I could not alter my previous lectures, and everything I've recorded since is classified. My hope is that someone will eventually find my messages, and it will confirm what they most likely already know to be true.
“So, with that, I will suck down one last meal of Food Substance, which consists of what even I no longer know. I will spend one more evening with the stars, the ones I remember as a child, painted on my bedroom ceiling. I will read my illegal bible one last night. I know that God has forgiven me, and I am completely undeserving of that. But I hope that mankind will forgive me. Or at least forget me.”
Mr. Adams pushed a button on a bracelet - smaller than the wristiles worn by the current population - and the screen went blank. Talitha stared into the black ceiling, her lips trying to form words, but never speaking.
Jonah finally broke the silence.
“So - do you believe me now?” he said.
Talitha furrowed her brow and thought for a moment. “Well,” she responded, “everything he said is horrible… But he still said that the Surface’s End is real, even if the reasons were lies.”
Jonah shook his head. “Don’t you see?” He pointed to the blank screen.
“If the people in the Facility have been told lies all this time, why would he have a full grasp of the truth? Maybe something did happen on the surface. That would explain the metal I still find out in the woods, and why Schultz has a fire bulb like you have down here.”
Talitha curiously mouthed the words fire bulb before touching her wristile again. “Maybe we can see the meeting with the military leaders he mentioned.”
The screen once again lit up, with men and women dressed in silver uniforms decorated with medals and pins sitting around a large table.
“The people are getting out of hand,” one of them spoke. “On the surface, of course. If we don’t do something, this place will be a crater soon. But they’re out of hand down here, as well. It has come to our attention that some of the population, especially the laborers, have been organizing to ‘escape’ from the Facility.”
“Lazy traitors,” another mumbled angrily. “There isn’t a single one of those stupid rednecks that could survive without us. They don’t have a clue what kind of opportunity we’ve given them.”
“That’s the problem, Barry,” a woman’s voice chimed in. “While they were on the surface, most of them didn’t have to work and the government still paid all their bills. They’re claiming this is some sort of prison. I don’t know why Adams insisted we be diverse in our population.”
“It’s because he actually believes the cause he’s preaching, Carla,” the first voice said. “He really thinks that at some point, everybody is going to be equal. I can’t wait until we automate their jobs so we can toss them back outside.”
“That’s going to take years - decades, maybe,” Barry said angrily. “We can’t allow some sort of mutiny because these idiots want greener grass. As much as I hate them, we need them.”
“There’s a plan to add trace amounts of tranquilizers to the Chemvapor that is so popular,” Carla offered. “That should quell their uprising but allow them to continue to work.”
“It’s a good long term plan,” the first voice confirmed, “but it could also take years to take full effect. We’re getting resistance from some of the Wellness Committee, saying it could have long term side effects.”
“Long term side effects?” Barry yelled, fuming. “The long term side effect is that this whole facility could collapse on top of us in a week if we don’t do something!”
“I know, Barry, I know,” the first voice said calmly. “But that isn’t how they look at things - like Adams, most of them have lofty ideals that aren’t affected much by reality. We have an immediate problem, and we need an immediate solution.”
Several of the younger attendees were fidgeting, obviously not comfortable with the direction the meeting was going.
“I tell you what will put them in their place,” Barry laughed. “Let’s take away their precious surface. Let them know the only other option is dead grass. It’s going to happen one of these days anyhow. There are thirty different countries that we owe money to that are bound to drop a bomb on us any day now. And that would be a smooth way to get rid of those greedy pigs in Texas.”
There was a pause.
“Sir?” a woman in her twenties said sheepishly. “You’re not talking about killing innocent citizens, are you?”
Barry
shot an icy look at her.
“Have you ever seen a war, little girl?” He leaned his head forward as he spoke, so that there was no doubt that he was talking down to her. She nervously looked down at a glowing tablet in her hands. “There’s no such thing as an innocent in war. There’s the enemy, and there’s the potential enemy. If you turn your back on some ‘innocent,’ they won’t hesitate to take a shot at you.”
“Nobody’s talking about genocide, Barry,” Carla tried to recover. “The Facility was created to save lives, not take them. General Hiller?”
The first man that spoke took a deep breath. “Carla, you know the old ranks are no longer recognized.”
“Old habits, sir.”
Hiller leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin. “Barry - I’m not fond of the methods, but you make a great point. We’d absolutely be justified to launch some missiles, considering the citizen attacks on military territory. And if there were no surface for the laborers to go to, they’d be easier to pacify.”
The silence was heavy. Many of the attendees exchanged desperate glances, hoping that someone would declare that the possibility was unreasonable. When no one spoke, the glances grew more frantic.
“What if we faked it, sir?” a new voice chimed in hastily.
“Faked it, Stinson? I’m listening.”
Barry’s eyebrows furrowed, obviously not satisfied with a fake war, but everyone else looked interested.
“Yes sir,” Stinson straightened up now that the whole room was looking at him. “We could send a few missiles out to desolate cities - places like San Francisco and Minneapolis where the economies have been dead for years, and are almost completely unpopulated. You could even send one to Houston, Barry, to send the Texans a message.”
Barry’s face remained cold, but he nodded.
“We destroy already dead cities and show recordings to the citizens of the Facility. We could even detonate nukes a few miles above the surrounding area of the Facility to create EMPs. That would wipe out the tech in the surrounding areas, and the entire Facility is hardened against it. They’d leave fairly quickly because food and power would be hundreds of miles away.”
“Interesting,” Hiller said. “The only idiots that would stick around after something like that would be the religious nut jobs that have been living in the woods - people who don’t need a power grid to get through the winter. And they wouldn’t care to come around here to damage the entrances.”
“But not only would we lose the vandals,” the young man continued, “we could show footage from the surface - mostly from the decimated cities, but also of the abandoned entrances - so that it would be real to them. No one would be tempted to ‘escape’ to the surface if they thought radiation was waiting for them there.”
“I like it,” confirmed Hiller. “Anybody have any objections - or a better idea?”
The room was quiet.
“All right. Stinson, get me a list of cities that would be considered already deserted.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Barry. Get me a list of locations that are an immediate danger. There’s no reason that we can’t neutralize some of the threats while we’re at it.”
The screen went blank.
Talitha sat completely still, eyes still fixed on the scene. Jonah looked at her face in the glow of the dim room, hoping that it was now obvious to her. He slipped his hand into hers.
“Do you believe me now?” he asked.
After a pause, Talitha quickly took her hand away from his and started touching her wristile. Jonah’s cheeks flushed red, embarrassed because he thought that he’d crossed a line.
“I’ve got to tell my dad,” she said, frantically moving her fingers along the glass. “Everybody has to know that they’ve been lying to us. For hundreds of years, they’ve been lying to us.”
Jonah tried to shift his weight away from hers for fear that she was angry at him. “What makes you think they’d listen?” he asked, slightly detached. “You didn’t believe me when I told you.”
“I know, Jonah,” she said as she grabbed his hand, noticing him inching away. She tried to pull him closer. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
Her eyes pierced into his. “But I’m downloading these videos to my wristile so they don’t have to believe me. So they can see it for themselves.”
Jonah sat up quickly. “You’re taking the pictures out of here? Won’t someone know that they’re missing?”
She sat up and put her hand softly on his back. “No, I’m not taking them away, I’m just making a copy. No one will know that I’m taking it, because the original records are still on here.”
Jonah looked around the room at all of the blinking lights and glass screens. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand how any of this stuff works,” he said.
“You don’t have to,” she replied with a half smile. “We won’t need it on the surface, right?”
Jonah’s eyes shot to her face. “You’re coming with me?”
“Of course I am!” she said. “My entire life, I’ve hoped that there was something else besides this horrible Facility. I’ve watched fake sunsets and smelled fake flowers. I’ve lived thinking that the only other option to a purposeless life was a radioactive death. You have rescued me, Jonah. You’ve rescued all of us!”
She threw her arms around him, getting him tangled in the cord connected to her wristile. Jonah knew she had said everyone, but he focused on the fact that she said he rescued her. They embraced long enough that he knew it was not just for celebration.
A three note chime from her wristile caused her to let him go and pull out the connected cord. As soon as the cord was loose, the lights in the room grew slightly brighter and the chair raised up around them.
She stood, pulling him up beside her, and kept his hand in hers. Jonah could barely breathe.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” he said. “Let’s go tell them!”
She smiled and briskly moved toward the entrance of the gigantic room, slightly dragging him behind.
.- .-- .- -.- .
Jonah and Talitha sat in the Magnet Tram cube, her giggling with talk about the surface. She unleashed countless questions, now that she was no longer afraid it was all a trick. To Jonah, her face - which held a sadness before - lit up in a way that made him even more intrigued by her.
Their hands were intertwined, the fabric on their shoulders pressed together. Jonah’s heart raced watching her lips form words like a melody. He knew that this was the moment he needed to risk.
“Talitha.” Jonah interrupted her. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
She smiled, exposing every single one of her teeth. “Well, I think that’s obvious, Jonah,” she laughed. “You’re definitely the first person from the surface I’ve met!”
“That’s not what I mean,” he answered. “I’m… I’m very interested in you.”
She gave an embarrassed smile and her cheeks flushed as she looked away for a moment. She put her free hand over his. “You don’t have to say anything, Jonah. I’m interested in you as well.”
“No, I do have to say it,” he said. “I don’t want to wonder if you know how I feel, or if I really know how you feel… I guess I’m trying to say… Can I court you? I know, I haven’t talked to your father to ask his permission so this is not the way I should do this, but I just felt like I had to ask now.”
Talitha’s smile turned into a look of confusion.
“I have no idea what you’re asking,” she said.
Jonah’s voice grew a little more nervous. “I’d like to court you… Pursue you…”
“The traditions of the surface must be very strange,” she smirked. “Do you mean have a more serious relationship?”
“Well, yes,” he replied, “but more than that. I’m asking if it’s okay if I can pursue your hand in marriage.”
Talitha’s eyes got wide.
“This seems a bit sudden, Jonah,” she said. “I’m on
ly sixteen… We don’t usually get married until we’re thirty or so. Getting married too early seems really impatient.”
Jonah looked down, defeated. “Oh,” he said. His hand, held in both of hers, relaxed uncomfortably.
“But -” Talitha tried to recover. “I really like you, and I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do about you. I’ve never felt like anyone understood me, and it seems like you’ve been inside my head since I met you. It’s not that I’m hesitant because I’m unsure of you. I’m just hesitant because I’ve never heard of this before. I really like you.”
She put one of her hands on his cheek, raising his face so their eyes could meet. “Can I think about it?” she asked.
“Yes, you can take as much time as you want,” he said, still a bit defeated. He didn’t know what to think of the situation - the couples in his town would have never sat so close or held each other’s hands without a formal courtship. He felt a bit embarrassed that he had assumed so much. “I’ll even wait until the surface stops burning,” he grinned.
“Well, I guess that means you’re not planning on waiting very long,” she laughed as the cube’s door opened.
When they stepped out, instead of the usual line of people waiting to step into their tram cube, there was an empty room. Talitha and Jonah caught each other’s glance for a nervous moment.
“Something isn’t right,” she whispered. “The Magnet Tram line is almost always full, even in the middle of the night. Our sector must be on lock down, or something.”
They slowly crossed the floor to the closed door, which remained closed as they approached. Talitha furrowed her brow, and waved her wristile near the wall, but nothing happened. She started grazing her fingers across the glass on her wrist, obviously trying to open the door.
There were footsteps behind them. Turning, they saw four Control Officers forming a line in front of them.
“Talitha Coomy, you are hereby placed into the custody of the Regulation Committee for the crime of unregulated access to classified material and will be tried for treason.”
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