The Complex Life (The Complex Trilogy Book 1)

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The Complex Life (The Complex Trilogy Book 1) Page 10

by Heather Hayes


  Scritch, scratch, the metal grate cover whines as I twist it up. The girls by the phone start jumping up and down, oohing and ahhing. Huh? I kneel up to see what they are looking at through the glass. Rocky is doing flips and somersaults for some reason. What a distraction he can be. Oh yeah, duh. I crouch down and swing the grate cover up again. I make record time popping out the sound barrier and dropping the note through a metal grate crack. As I fit everything back into place, I hear Tap, tap, tap right behind me.

  The foot tapping freezes me in place. An unpleasant voice asks, "What are you doing, Elira?"

  I spin around to see Julie glaring at me.

  "Oh-oh goody, you're back from isolation," I stammer like a stuttering child. "I-I just cleaned up barf for Mentor Maxine."

  Her smile is anything but kind. "Oh, I think we both know you did more than that." Julie walks over to the grate cover and swings it up. To my ears, the creak, scritch, scratch, thump sounds like the last nail going into my coffin.

  Julie smugly backs up toward the door. "I'm sure Mentor Maxine will have a few words to say about this."

  Oh good. Mentor Maxine is on duty. I make sure my relief doesn't show. I fake panic, "No! Please don't tell Mentor Maxine, Julie."

  "Oh, I am telling her all right. I bet you wish you hadn't poured water down my front, smashed pie in my face, and stolen both of the twins, don't you?"

  Uh, nope. But I have to look distraught. I pull on my hair. "You're right! I shouldn't have done any of that. Please don't tell."

  Julie smirks as she leaves the room. "Too late."

  I can't help but smile as I go back to pick up the garbage bag.

  •

  I'm so lucky it was Mentor Maxine and not Mentor Roberta who handed out my punishment. Thank goodness Mentor Maxine likes me, because my punishment is doing something I want to do anyway. I wonder if she knows what I'm up to... The screws are put back in the grate cover and I am assigned a day in the dirty laundry room. The letter from Jefrey is not found in my pocket. Rocky picked up his letter before anyone saw it. It will be okay, by some miracle.

  I collapse on my bed after accepting my punishment. It has been the most emotionally exhausting day I've ever had. Luckily, I know what will make me feel better. I pull Jefrey's letter out of my pocket and smell it. It smells different than Garth's. Sweeter, maybe? I need some sweetness right about now, I hope this does the trick.

  Dear Elira,

  I think you are the cutest girl in the whole complex. I don't think your purple eye mask diminishes your beauty at all. In fact, I feel like we have matching marks. Do you think we match?

  I'm glad you're part of our gang now, but you might want to take everything my brother and Rocky say with a grain of salt. They think the world isn't toxic, and that we should escape the complex. Think about it though, if they are wrong and we march outside without protective suits, we are goners. I can't bear the thought of you suffering in any way.

  Will you meet me at the grate privately some time? I want to hear your voice again so badly. Wear your black jumpsuit, it looks good on you.

  I will see you later, through the glass.

  Jefrey

  He wants to meet me privately! That sends my heart racing. Does this letter thrill me more than Garth's did? I can't tell. When I'm done memorizing the letter, I stuff it under my mattress.

  I turn off the lamp by my bed. Avra is asleep, and I think everyone else is too. The guard is in front of my window like usual. I can wait him out. I slip into bed and watch the window. Right as I'm about to doze off I notice the guard shifting away from the glass. I slip out of bed and look out the window. The guard's head is bent over. He is snoozing. What luck! He suddenly jerks his head up, and I duck down so he won't see me if he turns around. He doesn't turn around; he walks ten feet to the right. He leans against the wall and droops his head again. He can't see me at all, even if he's awake.

  I look to the tree line. Eyes! Oh good. The mysterious woman sticks her head out of the gap in the trees and waves. I wave back. I sign Hi, I am Elira. She picks up a rock and waves it at me again. I wish I knew what that meant.

  She then signs, Do you know my son? R-O-C-K-Y.

  Chapter 19

  First thing in the morning I run to the school room and sign up for the telephone before anyone is done with their victuals. I need to tell Rocky that the mysterious woman is his mother. I want to tell him with my actual voice if I can. If he has any doubts about escaping the complex, he won't after he hears my news. His mom is right outside the complex walls! I wish mine was.

  As I plop my last gooey bite of oatmeal into my mouth, the loud shriek noise goes off. That's weird, we just finished our victuals. It must be a special announcement. I move to the other side of the common room and sit on one of the soft, white sofas before they're all taken. Tessa and Shasta join me. Avra squeezes in next to me as well. Ow, she's sitting on half my leg.

  I hope my recent activities have nothing to do with this important announcement. This kind of thing doesn't happen often. Mentor Maxine waits for everyone to gather into the common room, then pulls out an official-looking letter and reads it loud enough for all of us to hear.

  "Attention complex dwellers: today is administration inspection day. The administration of the complex will be inspecting every corner of the complex to make sure everything is in proper working order, and that residents are being treated correctly. Our number one goal is to keep you safe from the toxins outside. If you have any concerns about the complex, you may address the complex chief during exploration time today. Please line up in an orderly manner. The chief will address as many of you as he can in the time allotted.

  Phew, at least it isn't about me or my gang. I wish today was my laundry duty day instead of tomorrow. I don't like administration inspection days. They happen twice a year, and everyone is always super proper and quiet and boring. Woohoo. I always feel uncomfortable watching the administration writing on their clipboards every second of the day.

  Mentor Maxine corners me when she's done talking to everyone. "Elira, don't even look at your boys today, do you hear me?" The concern in her eyes is pouring out faster than she can hold it back.

  "Why?"

  A weary sigh escapes her lips. "Everyone in this complex asks me how, where, when, what, but you are the only one who ever asks me why." Mentor Maxine seems pleased, yet anxious. "You are an amazing young woman, Elira. You notice things. You can tell when something isn't right. I am incredibly proud that you are this way, but today you need to act like everyone else."

  I grab her arm before she can walk away. "You still haven't answered my question. Why?"

  Mentor Maxine's voice drops to barely a whisper, "The administration is looking specifically for dissidents today. On both sides of the glass. Don't do anything that will jeopardize you or your friends. I have to go pretend I am the administration's lap dog. I suggest you do the same." She walks off quickly.

  Huh. As much as I want to tear this place apart to figure out how to escape, I can wait. I won't jeopardize myself or my friends. As I walk past the empty tables on my way to the school room, I do a quick counting. There are 12 empty pink trays today instead of six. I guess more girls are being noticeably boy crazy. I wonder why I don't have a pink tray. As Vanessa says, I do hang out with more than my fair share of boys. I bet Mentor Maxine is keeping them from medicating me.

  My goal for the day is to stay as close to the administration as I can, without being obvious, so I can glean as much information as possible.

  As the empty trays are cleaned up by the workers from the kitchens, the Complex Chief walks into the glass dorm. The happy babble of the dorm turns to silence. He exudes an air of superiority and dissatisfaction. The Complex Chief is tall and broad-shouldered with an unusually thin waist and scrawny legs. His face is long and thin, and his straight black
hair looks like it was cut with a ruler and scissors around his crown and stuck to his head with glue. The yellow-toothed sneer on his face makes me want to either look down at my feet, or stare at him in horror so I don't miss who he pounces on first.

  He looks us all over and immediately starts writing on his clipboard. He has a pretty, blonde assistant with him and she follows him around smiling at the room in general without getting too close to him.

  I cautiously follow him around too. Mentor Maxine opens her eyes as wide as they'll go and shakes her head almost imperceptibly at me. She knows what I'm trying to do. Fine. I'll just sit here and do nothing all day.

  When we move into the school room for morning classes, Avra lays her head down on her arms. Today must not be a good day for her. That is unfortunate. The Complex Chief looks at her then whispers with Mentor Bridget. I get up to grab a piece of paper. I overhear him say, "If she can't be consistent in her schooling then she won't be consistent in a job. We are behind schedule in 8 out of 12 production sectors, we need to cut the fat and become a lean, mean, productive machine."

  "Maxine thinks she is healthy enough to be reasonably productive in a chair. That's the only reason we haven't sent her to the final doctor."

  "If she hasn't proven her work ethic by the end of the month, send her to the doctor."

  "Yes, Chief."

  Oh boy. One month. I've got to get her out of here. But how? There has to be a way. I trudge back to my seat. I don't think I can fake a smile all day long. I hope this jerk leaves our dorm soon. I bury myself in my school work.

  After noon victuals and math, Mentor Bridget looks excited about the change to our usual schedule. "Exploration time, girls. Today you may ask the Complex Chief one question about any complex concerns you have. Line up in an orderly manner and keep your questions short."

  Vanessa immediately jumps out of her seat and starts the front of the line. Mara is right behind her. She twists her long white-blonde hair around a finger on her shriveled hand. She seems nervous for once.

  I try to decide if I should ask the Complex Chief one of my many questions. Mentor Maxine won't like it; I'm supposed to be blending in. But how often do I get to ask the head honcho of this place any question I want? I haven't looked at my boys even once. I haven't asked any off the wall questions. I've been sitting here good as gold. Surely, I can risk one tiny little question. Shasta stands up and gets in the line. Wow, I am surprised by that. I let my heart instead of my head guide me as I join Vanessa, Mara, and Shasta in the line. I don't really know what I'm going to ask yet. But I'm sure it will come.

  Vanessa smiles at the Complex Chief in her awkward way and asks, "Why don't you reseal the window edges every six months? I have noticed the people near the window get sick more than everyone else, and I personally don't want to absorb any extra toxins."

  The Complex Chief purses his lips together while he thinks and then opens his mouth so we can see his horrible yellow teeth. "It would be a waste of government money to reseal the windows every six months. We always make sure the windows get new caulk every January, before everyone moves dorms. That is a normal and acceptable space of time between sealings. Do not fear the outside toxins from within the complex. It is our job to keep you safe, and we do that job well."

  Vanessa does not look impressed as she sits down. Julie jumps up and gets in line behind me. She accidentally bumps into my back in the process. "Sorry, mask-face." If the complex chief was not here right now, I would seriously punch her in the face.

  Mara steps forward, straightens herself, looks the Complex Chief in the eye, and asks her question, "Why do we have to share the glass dorm with two age groups? We've never had to share a dorm with this many girls before, and I feel like the drama and fighting would be much less if we didn't have as many girls living together."

  The Complex Chief looks like he is going to die of boredom with this question. His voice is monotone and unenthusiastic as he responds, "There is wisdom in combining two age groups into one dorm. Job preparation is the main reason. If you can't get along with 60 girls, how will you get along with five times that many on the job? I suggest you enjoy sharing a dorm with only 60." The Complex Chief looks down at his clipboard. "Oh, make that 59 girls. When you turn 18, you will share a dorm with all the girls that work with you. If you do not think you can handle those kinds of living conditions, let your mentors know. They can provide you with... supplements to make the transition easier for you. Next question."

  Shasta impresses me with her determination as she takes a step forward. "Why can reds only apply for four jobs? I really want to be a guard, but I feel like I have no choice but to be a cook or something even less appealing to me."

  The complex chief keeps his eyes down as he scribbles something on his clipboard. "We take the health of all complex residents very seriously. Red workers are very valuable in the kitchens and in the laundry, but we cannot risk the loss of life that would come from putting reds in high-risk jobs. It's not safe for the red, and it's not safe for those who work alongside the red. I would personally feel less safe knowing all the guards who protect this complex day in and day out were suffering from heart, lung, and eye problems. Next question." Shasta lowers her head dejectedly and sits back down.

  It's my turn. I step forward, "Complex Chief, I understand why the boys and girls in the complex have to stay separate, but aren't we missing critical points of view by not learning together? One telephone for over 100 people does not help us to gather much academic information from each other."

  The Chief looks at me long and hard before answering. "This is a government facility. The government pays for everything that happens here. The government does not want the degenerate genes of this demographic to be replicated. In order to ensure no degenerate genes are replicated we must keep all parties interested in reproduction either separated or medicated. There is time to collaborate in certain jobs that benefit from multiple points of view. Thank you, that's all the time I have." The Chief stands up and leaves the room. I walk back to my seat dejectedly.

  Avra lifts her head up. "What in the world did that mean?" The other girls who listened in all shrug and shake their heads before heading off to 5:00 victuals.

  I wait for the Chief's blonde aid to follow him out. I lean close to Avra. "It means, the government thinks we're damaged and doesn't want us to pass our damaged genes on to a new generation. They keep girls and boys separate so that we don't have babies. Now that it is time to start working with each other, anyone who wants a boyfriend will be medicated. Our deformities are supposed to die with us."

  "But everyone in the world is deformed in some way. Everyone knows that."

  I lower my voice and say forcefully, "Or we have been told that, and we've believed it. Things are not good here, Avra. We are being lied to. We have to escape."

  Avra glares at me. "You are crazy, Elira. I am not strong enough to escape."

  "You have to be. I heard the chief say that if you don't prove you are strong enough for a job by the end of the month, you're going to the death doctor. You are a waste of government money to him."

  Avra squirms in her seat. "I don't believe it. You need to quit listening to your crazy boys. They are nothing but trouble."

  "That's not what you said a few days ago. You have to stop eating the food in your pink tray. I'll share my food with you."

  "You are getting crazier and crazier, Elira. I need to rest. Leave me alone." Avra turns away from me and lays her head on her desk.

  I turn around and look at the glass wall. The bald mentor is in the room, but he has his back turned to the window as he helps a boy with his schoolwork.

  Garth and Rocky are looking right at me. I discreetly turn my back so Mentor Bridget can't see what I'm doing in front of my chest. I have so much to say, and not much time to say it. I use my hands to spell out, "Big problems. Chief looking
for dissidents. Avra is going to death doctor soon. Rocky's mom..."

  I guess Rocky knows sign language too, because he jumps up and runs to the glass window. He braces his hands against it, as soon as I spell out ‘Rocky's mom.' I see his mouth screaming the words, "What about my mom? Do you know where my mom is?" Just then, I notice that the chief is inside the boys' school room. The chief talks to the bald mentor who grabs Rocky and hauls him out of the room.

  Oh no. What have I done?

  Chapter 20

  As the sky turns dark, I don't even try to look out my window, my pillow swallows my heavy head instead. I've sent Rocky's life down the toilet. I know Rocky's mom is outside right now, but I don't want anyone else to get caught trying to communicate with me. I feel a tear leak out of my eye and slowly roll down the side of my face. It absorbs into my hair. I feel a waft of air touch the cold wet line on my face as someone kneels down beside my bed.

  "I told you not to look at any of them," Mentor Maxine whispers.

  The single wet line on my cheek is joined by many more as I roll to my side. "It's all my fault. What is going to happen to him?"

  Mentor Maxine lets out a long breath. "He is in a private cell being forcibly medicated right now. If it doesn't change him, he will be charged as a dissident and sent to the final doctor."

  "Who is really the death doctor." I wipe the tears off my purplish eye.

  Mentor Maxine cocks her head to the side. "Yes... how do you know that?"

  I don't know if I should tell her, but I really want to. "I overheard you and Mentor Roberta the other day." I glare at the ceiling. "How is he being forcibly medicated?"

  Mentor Maxine gently slides a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "He refuses to eat the medicated food, so he is being injected with the medicine."

  "Being girl-crazy isn't really his problem, you know."

  "What do you think his problem is?"

  I look at Mentor Maxine and try to decipher if she is as trustworthy as I think she is. "Will you turn me in if I tell you?"

 

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