The closet was stocked with three different types of uniforms: education, sleep, and free time, and they were required at all times. She figured it was one way Security knew whether people were in the right place at the right time, based on the uniforms they donned, and what kind of pattern or word would be stitched on the back. Since she planned to go to the Education Center directly after her medical procedure, she felt the jumpsuit was the best choice.
Freya grabbed a breakfast bar out of the cupboard and was ready to leave. She opened the door, turned around, and paused. She waited for some sense of nostalgia or loss to hit her, since she would likely never return, but she felt no such thing. This space wasn’t hers; it was really just borrowed space that she occupied for a time.
Freya walked to the elevator and palmed the scanner.
“Freya 117, verified.”
She stepped into the elevator, and it promptly escorted her to the underground. Feeling numb, she began to walk. She pulled out the breakfast bar, looked at it, and realized she couldn’t possibly eat at that moment.
Just as she was trying to decide what to do with the bar, a shadow moved over the skylight above her. Looking up, she saw a civilian who appeared to be cleaning the window. Freya had heard that some had civil duties above ground, but she’d never seen anyone up there before. The person appeared to be wearing some sort of full-body suit, with a mask that covered his entire face. She could only guess it was for protection from the hostile atmosphere, but whatever the reason for it, she found it quite difficult to pull her eyes off the masked person. The stranger seemed to notice her gaze and waved a rubber gloved hand in a friendly fashion. Freya hesitantly raised her hand to do the same, but the gesture felt odd; no one she was not familiar with had ever waved at her before.
“Freya 117, you have eight minutes to get to your destination. We are activating the floor lights. Please follow them to your destination in a timely manner.”
Her heart raced at the sound of the warning, and she silently scolded herself for having been so careless. As promised, the floor illuminated in a trail of red lights, to lead her through the tunnels. The floor lights were often lit when someone had lost their way, and she felt it was luck that had Security thinking she was in that category instead of hesitating willingly. Without having to stop and look at the signs for directions, she made it to the Medical Center quickly and scanned in.
“Freya 117, please proceed to room three,” Security said over the speakers.
She quickly found Room 3, walked in, and sat down. Her mind began to drift back to the worker who was cleaning the glass. How does someone end up with that civil duty? It sure isn’t a very pleasant job. As she pondered it, she felt a small comfort wash over her. If I could have chosen my civil duty, it would be in the greenhouse, not outside, in a mask, cleaning. She had never been outside, but she couldn’t imagine it was a very nice place to be.
“Freya, how are you today?” asked the doctor as he walked into the room.
“I am well,” she replied, glancing up at him briefly before looking back down at her shoes.
“That’s what I like to hear from all my patients.” He smiled and paused, as if awaiting a response. He didn’t wait long, though, and continued as he took a seat behind his desk, “It appears you have now reached womanhood.” He paused again, looking at her, as if waiting for her to offer a response, but Freya could neither speak nor lift her gaze from her shoes. “You have nothing to worry about. The most painful thing you will feel is this needle. See? It is not even very big.”
Finally, Freya summoned the strength to look up at the needle. It really wasn’t very large, but she was still speechless, so she just shook her head to acknowledge the doctor’s remark.
“Let’s get started then.” The doctor had such a kind, soft way about him. “First, I need you to change into this gown and lie down on the table right over here.”
There was a changing curtain in the corner of the room, so she took the gown from the doctor and made quick work of changing in privacy, then followed his instructions to lie down on the table.
The doctor began by rubbing a small area on her upper right arm with alcohol. “Take a deep breath, and I am going to count to three,” he instructed. “One…two…” Then, just like that, he plunged the needle into her arm and pushed down the plunger.
“Ow! You said on three!” she complained.
The doctor chuckled. “I did indeed, but sometimes the oldest tricks in the book are best. People flinch when they expect the needle, and it would have hurt more if you had.”
Freya offered him a sheepish grin, a little less angry about his blatant betrayal. She was less nervous, too, and all of the sudden, her eyelids began to feel very, very heavy. “I-I saw a male cleaning skylights above ground when I came in, and…” she began, then trailed off, her thoughts melting into incoherent slurs as she was unable to keep her eyes open any longer.
“Did you now? At this hour? If that’s true, he must have done something bad,” the doctor said.
While her eyes no longer seemed to cooperate, her ears were still working properly, so she heard the doctor. She tried to ask what he meant, but she couldn’t seem to make her mouth move. A second later, she couldn’t even remember why she was trying to open her mouth. All Freya knew in that moment was one simple truth: I need to sleep…now.
***
Freya enjoyed the best sleep she’d ever had. It felt so good. She began to wonder, though, how and why she’d so easily dozed off with all the lights on. A nagging part of her brain felt she should turn them off, but she just couldn’t seem to will her eyes open, let alone get up.
That pleasant sleep was interrupted when a sense of dread began to fill her stomach. Lights. I’ve got to turn them off, before I get in trouble. She finally managed to open her stubborn eyes for a brief moment, only to be assaulted by the brightness of the lights and to immediately be overcome by nausea. Stinging acid and bitter bile began to rise up her throat, and it was then that Freya realized it wasn’t dread at all; there was a physical sickness within her. Instinctually, she rolled over onto her side, pulled herself over so her face was clear of the bed, and vomited on the floor.
“Patient 117 is awake and needs a cleanup,” said a voice over the speaker.
Freya pushed herself onto her back and wished the room would stop spinning. Where am I, and who was that? she wondered as the fog in her mind started to clear. She decided to chance being ill again and opened her eyes. Her memories of that morning began to come back to her. She realized she was still in the same room, on the same table she’d lay on before the doctor inserted the needle into her arm.
The door opened, and a nurse walked in. She looked down at the floor and maneuvered around the puddle of vomit to get to Freya. “Well, you sure did a good job of that.” She began blotting Freya’s face with a soft cloth. “Most people don’t have the sense to lean over, and they end up making a big mess all over the linens and themselves.” She then grabbed a rectangular box from the bedside table and put a straw in it. “Here. Drink it. It will make you feel better.”
“What is it?” asked Freya.
“I’ll make you a deal. You drink it, and then I’ll explain.”
Freya was not inclined to accept such a deal, but she felt too weak to try to put up a fight. She let the nurse put the straw in her mouth, and then she began to take slow, shallow sips.
“It is a combination of water, to help rehydrate you, and it contains amino acids and carbohydrates to help your body recover, as well as a little medicine to help with the nausea,” the nurse offered, keeping her end of the bargain.
As much as Freya didn’t much like being bullied into drinking a foreign substance, she did appreciate the effects of the liquid contents of the little box. Almost instantly, she began to feel better, and it kind of tasted like cherries. She finished it off rather quickly and handed it back to the nurse.
“All done? Good girl.” She took away the juice box. “How
is your stomach feeling now?”
“Better, but I still don’t feel like I can get up.” Freya could finally stand to keep her eyes open and could move her head, but the thought of walking was simply out of the question.
“No, dear, but you won’t have to for a little bit. For now, get some rest. The medication will make you sleepy.” The nurse brought over a blanket and began to tuck it around Freya’s body. It was very comforting; it almost felt like her mother was taking care of her instead of a stranger.
Freya’s eyelids grew heavy again, and she succumbed and let them close. Her mind began to drift, swaying between consciousness and unconsciousness. As she drifted off, she envisioned the male she’d seen before, the window-cleaner, and she recalled the doctor’s odd words. What did he mean, saying that man must have done something wrong if he was cleaning so early in the morning? Was the male on punishment of some sort? And for what? The male had seemed happy, and he even gave her a friendly wave. From where she was, she could not see his face or the expression he wore, but his body language suggested that he was content. She did wonder, though, why he had to do the job even before most people were awake.
Really, it was all too many thoughts, especially in her drugged state. Freya decided to chalk it up to some adult joke she had never heard, her mind drifted off once again into a blissful slumber.
Freya awoke in a hazy fog a few hours later. At first, she just lay there with her eyes closed, hoping nobody would notice she was awake. The bed was warm, her body tired and achy. She didn’t know when she would have to leave or where they would send her. A new apartment perhaps? With the drugs wearing off, a lot of sleep, and thoughts of what was to be, she began to get restless. She flickered her eyelids just a little, let out a small moan and a stretch.
This time, the loudspeaker did not announce that she was awake. She sat up, looked around, and really didn’t know what to do with herself. She was afraid to put her clothes back on without being told to, so she just sat there on the edge of the bed, dangling her feet about, waiting for something to happen.
The door to the room opened, and the juice box nurse walked in. “Oh! You’re awake. How do you feel?”
“Better,” Freya answered.
“Well, that’s good. Any pain?”
“Um, no. Is there usually?”
“Not necessarily, especially after sleeping that long. Do you feel as if you are ready to go home?”
“I-I don’t know,” Freya stuttered hesitatingly. “I mean, I don’t know where home is yet, so I don’t know if I can walk that far.” She didn’t make eye contact with the nurse when she said it, in case the subtle inquiry was treading on forbidden territory.
“What do you mean, dear? Your home should be right where you left it. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Oh.” Freya’s cheeks reddened, and she was afraid to say more. Realizing that the nurse was going to keep staring at her with that concern etched on her face till she offered some sort of response, she muttered, “Well, I thought… I mean, after we’re sterilized, don’t we get coupled and move into a shared apartment?”
The nurse looked at her for a moment, then answered, “Well, yes, but not on the same day. You need to heal up a bit first.”
Freya let out a sigh of relief, but the nurse obviously mistook it for disappointment.
“Dear, I know how exciting males can seem to someone your age, but don’t worry. Your coupling will happen soon enough. You are young, and you have much time for all that,” the nurse assured her.
Freya nodded. The nurse clearly thought she was excited to be coupled, and, being that it was the more compliant thing to do, she knew it was best to play along.
“Just a word of advice between us girls though. Stay away from them, the males, until you are coupled. You can no longer conceive a child, but there is still a world of trouble you can get into with them.”
Freya had absolutely no clue what she was referring to, and since she had no intention of going anywhere near any males unless it was forced upon her, she didn’t feel the need to know either, so she decided to keep up the pretense. “I know. I definitely don’t wanna get into that kind of trouble.”
“Good to hear. Now, I need to give you a few pills to take with you. These are for pain or if you have trouble sleeping over the next few days. Go ahead and get dressed, you are free to go home.”
Freya felt a great weight had been lifted off her; she was going back to the same home she knew, and she was going alone. She took so much comfort in that thought. She got up and began to put her clothes on, but it struck her as a bit pointless to don an education uniform, since the procedure had gobbled up most of the day.
Now that she was moving, it was obvious she was going to suffer from some pain, and she already felt tenderness in her lower abdomen. She looked down, and lifted a small white bandage, revealing an incision with a few stiches. It had been a mistake to peak, as the skin surrounding was rather sensitive, so she got dressed, finding the nurse standing right by the main entrance door.
“Here you are, as promised. The pink ones are for pain, and the blue ones will help you sleep. Don’t get them mixed up! Just one sleeping pill should be good enough for about six hours of rest. Go straight home and rest for the evening. Your body has been through a lot, my dear, and you need a little time to recover,” ordered the nurse.
Freya looked down at the two small envelopes the nurse had placed in her hand. She then thanked the woman and left to head for the apartment, the one she knew as home.
Chapter 2
The alarm in Freya’s room screamed at her, but she found it difficult to open her eyes again, thanks to the sleeping pill. Normally, she woke up just before the alarm sounded, but now, she just lay there with her eyes closed, trying to find the strength to get up and shut off the unnerving noise. She finally rolled over to her side, and pain shot threw her lower abdomen, causing her to wince and hunch over in bed. The large red light on her wall started flashing, which meant Security would soon be notified if she did not get up and turn off the alarm; the State had no tolerance for tardiness, and all alarms were preset to accommodate each individual’s carefully monitored schedule. In fact, if anyone was late one morning, the alarm would sound earlier the next. It was really conditioning at its finest, but it seemed to keep everyone compliant, at least for the most part.
She tenderly got out of bed and touched the button to shut off the alarm. Her first priority before her shower was to take a pink pill to ease her pain. She was surprised that she was so sore. The shower felt good, but she decided against washing her hair; not only did it seem as if it would be too challenging of a task with her body aching so, but she knew she’d also need a little extra time to walk to the Education Center. A quick, two-minute shower was all it would take to clean herself and help her wake up.
She dried off and went to the closet to retrieve a fresh education uniform. The breakfast bar from the prior day was still where she had left it, so she simply grabbed her bag of school items and was ready to head out. As she stepped through the door, she looked back at the apartment. It had been quite some time since Freya had felt so calm, but for the first time in almost four years, the place actually felt like home. Maybe they won’t couple me at all, since they don’t seem in a hurry to move me, she pondered hopefully. She considered that maybe the psychological testing proved what Freya already knew about herself, she was meant for independent living. She was relatively certain her life would consist of living in a small, quiet space, alone, working with plants. After all, that was who she was.
Reproduction and coupling just simply were not in her makeup. She was sure the authorities had to know that, and she was certain that was why she’d received no notification about moving or coupling. She stood in the doorway, breathing deeply as a sense of relief washed over her body. In spite of her great epiphany, it was time for her to head to the Education Center, but her thoughts still raced around in her mind as she walked. Freya had had
many conversations with her father about the testing process. In those conversations, he often referred to “a perfect society,” and he reiterated time and time again, “Every person has a place and use, to contribute to the common good. The State places people where they belong.” She began to think that perhaps her father had been right, that perhaps they had planned her life correctly after all.
She walked a bit more briskly as that thought sunk in, marched along with an elevated sense of purpose. For so long, Freya had felt lost, as if she was simply existing in a wasteland, but now she felt a sense of belonging. The testing obviously worked, just as her father had assured her it would. They knew her, what she was made of and what she was capable of. Everyone really does have a place in this world, she thought, and she knew the State had discovered hers. In that moment, Freya began to see the world with a new set of eyes. No longer was she overwhelmed by fear and anger. Suddenly, all that order and structure brought her some peace.
Compliant Page 2