Compliant

by M. J. Kaestli

  Freya stood there for some time, pondering their conversation. She always thought people with menial jobs like cleaning and laundry had somehow gotten the short end of the stick, perhaps because they were not as clever or well behaved as others. Is that woman just lucky that she was assigned something she actually likes, Freya wondered, or are there actually more people out there who like those sorts of jobs? Freya had always loved plants, and she had no desire to work in any other field. She thought perhaps some people looked at working in the greenhouse the way she looked at laundry. She thought back to the strange male who had interrupted her walk. Hmm. He did seem to be quite content with his cleaning, now that I think of it.

  The pain in her abdomen suddenly riled up. She took more medication, then sat down to work on the Sudoku puzzle again. The pain meds did make her feel a little drowsy, and she wasn’t really all that interested in the puzzle. The doctors had told her she needed to rest and recover, and she really had nothing else that needed to be taken care of, so she thought a little nap wasn’t such a bad idea. She converted the sofa back into a bed and crawled under the covers, and sleep took her quickly.

  ***

  Freya awoke to hunger pangs. She had been so distracted with everything she’d forgotten to eat lunch, and now she had slept through dinner. It was 19:00, almost sleeping time, yet she was now wide awake. She approached the delivery slot in the wall and saw that, sure enough, her dinner had been delivered some time ago. The hot meal, now cold, was pretty typical for their evening rations: healthy portions of rice, corn, beans, and steamed vegetables. They were sometimes served fish or chicken, but that only happened on special occasions. Meat was only regularly given to people with physically strenuous civil duties and pregnant women. That was fine with Freya; while a lot of citizens loved meat and wished they could have more, Freya was content with other things.

  She sat down at the desk and ate her cold supper, surprised that she still felt so tired. When she finished eating, she returned the dishes to the compartment in the wall. For the first time, she wondered about the person who delivered the meals and picked up the dirty dishes. She wondered who was tasked with washing them. Just like the hand towels and linens, they were things she had always taken for granted. Now, she wanted to see the people who undertook those humble duties. She wanted to know if they enjoyed their jobs or not. Who could possibly enjoy washing dishes? Is it just not as bad as having to do other things? It was as if Freya’s mind was suddenly opening to so many new ideas, so many curiosities. She had never thought about the many tasks required to keep their civilization moving; it was such a well-oiled machine that few ever noticed all the cogs and gears which made it run.

  She looked around for something to do. Puzzles no longer appealed to her, and she was not in the mood to read. After just sitting for a few minutes, she decided the best thing to do was to take another sleeping pill. She changed into a sleeping gown, then crawled back into bed. Her mind started to drift to her own duties, and she wondered if others had been assigned to fill in for her while she was forbidden from working. Lists started to form in her mind, long lists of duties she’d never thought about, things that were done without her ever realizing. As she drifted off to a medicated slumber once again, everything began to blur together in that questioning mind of hers.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, Freya woke up before the alarm went off, yet she found it difficult to get out of bed. There was still discomfort in her abdomen, and the drugs created a haze in her mind. Alluring thoughts of hot water and steam were the motivating factors to entice her to crawl out of bed.

  Taking a shower had been a good decision, for the hot water felt amazing on her aching body. In times like these, she fully understood why the State had to implement such strict water rations; it was tempting to stand under such soothing warmth for hours. Reluctantly, she stepped out and toweled off and ran a comb through her wet hair, which was quite the feat, since her locks were all tangled and hard to manage. She thought she might occupy some of her free time with a haircut on her way back from the Education Center. She did her best to braid her messy mop and gathered up all the things she would need for the day, then hurried to the cupboard for her typical breakfast bar. Some citizens complained about the mundaneness of always eating the same thing, but Freya loved the combination of dried fruit, nuts, and seeds, all mashed together, a sweet but filling start to the day.

  Once the bar was finished, she put the wrapper in the compost bin in the wall and headed to the Education Center. It was not that far; of course not, since everyone was housed close to all the places they needed to be. There were underground trains, but those were not meant for daily use by most people, since they used too much power to be an efficient way to commute. Besides, walking was necessary for optimal health, and Freya never minded going on foot anyway.

  Freya arrived at the Education Center and proceeded to her first class of the day. History was mandatory, and while she loathed it, she only had to endure it for an hour. She felt she already understood all she needed to know about the past, but apparently, the State felt otherwise.

  “Good morning, students,” the instructor said, looking down at the tablet. “Today, we will begin Chapter 12, on the topic of space travel. Now, can anyone tell me the name of the famous twenty-first-century scientist who felt that space exploration for the purpose of colonization was mankind’s best chance of survival?”

  One of the girls shot her hand in the air, so giddy about her answer that she was practically bouncing in her seat. When the instructor acknowledged her with a nod, she blurted, “Stephen Hawking!”

  Who cares? Freya thought with a roll of her eyes, not understanding why her classmate was so excited. The girl had obviously been reading ahead in her free time.

  “Correct. And why did Dr. Hawking feel colonization was key?” the instructor asked in return.

  “He felt humans needed to exist on more than one planet to ensure our survival. If anything were to destroy our planet, humans could still survive elsewhere, if we set up colonies beforehand,” the girl said, grinning from ear to ear.

  Freya wondered why she bothered to hold up her hand each time; it wasn’t as if anyone else was paying attention.

  “Correct again. Earth could be hit by an asteroid, we could face a rapid and dangerous climate change, and, of course, nuclear war or waste could render the planet uninhabitable,” the instructor said, then paused momentarily. “I can only imagine what would have happened, how different all of our lives would be right now, if colonization had succeeded.” She stopped to release a heavy sigh of disappointment. “If we would have colonized, we could have moved most of Earth’s population. So many lives could have been saved.” The instructor paused again, and there was noticeable dampness in her eyes.

  Something about the emotional response of the instructor caused Freya to perk up, her curiosity in the topic had been piqued. The instructor’s expression and the strange tone of her voice intrigued Freya, as she had never witnessed any instructor speaking out against their way of life, or the State in any way. What the instructor said wasn’t exactly rebellious or noncompliant, but it definitely wasn’t normal protocol. Normally, she had only praise for the State and the modern way of life, but obviously, the idea of colonization was something close to her heart, something that pained her deeply. “Do you think we will ever make it? Do you think we will ever colonize?” Freya asked, drawing a curious look from her instructor; it wasn’t like Freya to participate in discussions in history class.

  “I can’t say for certain, but I don’t think it will ever happen now,” the instructor answered with sadness in her voice. “Once the State had to step in, space exploration was discontinued. It required an incredible amount of resources, and, as you all know, resources are scarce and carefully rationed. I still hold out hope that someday, when our planet has healed enough, maybe when we can go outside again, the State will make it a priority. I know things would be different if we
could accomplish Dr. Hawking’s dream of colonization. We would no longer have to suffer through rationing, population control… We would all be free to live the lives we choose to live.”

  “So there are no scientists working on space travel anymore? You would think the State would prioritize that, considering the condition of the planet,” responded the very eager classmate.

  “I can’t say for sure that the State has abandoned the research completely, but even if there is a team of scientists working on those theories, the necessary resources are lacking. Not only that, but the pollution caused by space travel would only set back our environmental recovery, which must be a top priority. That is precisely why the project was discontinued, because it simply was not a viable solution to our problems. Our scientists were not close enough, and the State had to take immediate action to evacuate everyone. For many years, we had to live completely underground or in a mountain, until the scientists came up with suitable protection—the glass that now surrounds us. That solar glass protects us from radiation while still letting a controlled amount of sunlight in for photosynthesis while providing our power needs. Without that breakthrough, we might still be underground, with an even more limited population. We were fortunate to be able to adjust some preexisting structures, which allowed us to have the space we have now.” The instructor paused for another moment. “I think we should all be grateful for all the State has been able to provide for us. We were lucky to have survived a massive nuclear war, and I truly believe in the State and its potential to someday rebuild this planet to the place it once was. Until then, we must all be content with the one planet we have.”

  Freya smirked, certain that the teacher was saying the words more to convince herself than to convince the rest of the class. She obviously disagreed with the discontinuation of the space program, but no measly instructor could say anything to change the mind of the State. Once again, compliance was required, by everyone.

  The instructor proceeded to give the history of what was accomplished in space travel, as well as a wealth of information about the energy and fuel consumption required by such a process. Freya was surprised, based on what she heard, that the space program had lasted as long as it had, and the spark that had been ignited in her just moments earlier began to fizzle out. It was very clear why the State had abandoned the project, and colonization was just a silly dream. Her hopes were dashed, and her mind began to drift. Once again, she lost interest in history class, so she just stared blankly at the instructor until class was over.

  Next on Freya’s agenda was her agriculture class. She still hated she could only participate in the theory portion, due to being on medical leave, but at least she liked that class better than history. This time, there was no discussion with the instructor after the lesson. She just packed up her school items and headed back to the apartment.

  She was walking in the underground walkway when she saw Calix again, this time on a ladder, cleaning the skylight. She hoped she could bypass him without his noticing, but those hopes proved to be as fruitless as her hopes about the space program, entirely in vain.

  “Hey, Freya! How are you today?” He rested his arm on the ladder and hunched down a bit to speak to her.

  She slowed her pace but continued walking.

  “I looked for you in the common rooms last night. Didn’t see you,” he said in a tone that instantly irritated her.

  “I didn’t feel well last night, I took my meal in my room.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to explain herself, but then again, no one had ever told her they wanted her around at mealtime.

  “Then I guess you’re still recovering, huh?” Calix responded.

  Freya almost jumped back in surprise, shocked that he seemed to know so much about her.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said when he realized his words startled her. “I just assumed you’re on medical leave because… Well, why else would you be out walking when everyone else is still in school?”

  Freya felt the warmth of her face blushing, she didn’t know why though. Am I just embarrassed because he knows my personal business, or am I angry at him for prying? she asked herself. She looked back at him and decided it was the latter. How dare he stop me and speak to me again? That’s against regulations! And he’s got no business knowing my business anyway! She looked at him disdainfully. “I have to go. I don’t want to alert Security again,” she said, glad she was quick-witted enough to think of a feasible excuse.

  “Right. Good thinking. Maybe I’ll see you later, when you feel better,” he said to her back as she walked.

  “Maybe,” she muttered, without turning around to look at him.

  For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why such a thing was happening. She’d spent the first fifteen years of her life without any male giving her a second thought. Now, this one was practically harassing her. What’s so different now? As if that thought wasn’t bad enough, she also wondered what his motivation was, if any at all. No one gets to choose who they’re coupled with or even if they are coupled. No one’s allowed to be alone with a member of the opposite sex until coupling anyway. So why’s he bothering me? With no sensible answer, she just shook her head and continued walking.

  She walked a few paces more, then stopped to look at the signs, as she couldn’t quite remember where to go for her haircut. The signs didn’t provide any suitable instructions, so she decided it was best to ask Security, before they saw her dawdling around in the corridors and accused her of being up to something. There was a button on the wall to patch into the intercom system, so she pushed it and waited for assistance.

  “Identification,” said a voice from the intercom.

  “Freya 117,” she said, looking around; she was never quite sure where to look so they would have the best view of her face.

  “State your request, Freya 117?”

  “I want to get a haircut, but I can’t remember how to get there.”

  “There is no record of a scheduled appointment for you,” Security said after a pause.

  Freya’s face flushed for the second time that day. She had not thought to inquire about availability, and she suddenly felt very foolish about the oversight. “No, I didn’t make an appointment. I thought I could just stop in.”

  “Please hold,” said the voice from the wall.

  Freya began to panic, fearing she might be escorted by Security for questioning. Maybe he doesn’t believe me. What if he thinks I’m just loitering, wondering around and up to no good? She knew most people her age was in school, and she worried that Security would question why she had left so early. Ugh. Why didn’t I just ask about an appointment? What’s gotten into you, Freya? What if they—

  “If you walk quickly, there is some availability. Please follow the illuminated path.” With that, the intercom clicked off, and a trail of red lights lit up on the wall.

  “Uh…thanks!” Freya yelled, not sure if they were still listening.

  As she trekked along, trying to hurry down the few blocks, she felt a stitch in her abdomen. She had completely forgotten she was supposed to be taking it easy, but the pain was a sharp reminder. Although she was worried the appointment would be canceled due to her tardiness, the unpleasant sensation in her middle forced her to slow her pace.

  She turned the corner and was relieved to see that she had arrived. Most of the buildings were above ground, even if it required an underground journey to get there. This place was simply a room, not an entire building, and it appeared to be little more than an extension of the walkway. The entire ceiling was made out of skylights, beaming down on two chairs. On Freya’s previous visits, she’d seen two people cutting hair, but now there was only one.

  “Freya 117,” the woman said.

  Freya glanced around the deserted walkway and realized it was not exactly the peak time for haircuts; she wondered, then, why Security had made such a big deal about her being a walk-in. “Yes. Did I make it on time?”

  “Yes. Please have a seat.”
The woman gestured to a chair and put a cape around Freya’s neck after she sat down. She then began to comb Freya’s hair out, misting it with a water bottle as she went. “How much would you like taken off today?”

  “Well, it’s been getting tangled a lot. Just do whatever you think is best, so I can comb it easier,” Freya replied nonchalantly.

  There really was no point in being too specific, since all females had similar hairdos. The shortest that was permitted was just below the chin, but it was allowed to grow to a longer length as long as it was manageable. Most females her age kept their hair past their mid-backs. Of course some tried to grow their hair even longer, since males supposedly liked longer hair, but Freya didn’t see the appeal. She thought long hair looked messy, and it wasn’t easy to deal with, so she usually wore hers in a braid or a bun to tame it.

  “Do you like cutting hair?” Freya was intrigued about people’s opinions of their various civil duties.

  “Actually, yes, I do,” the lady said with a soft smile. “I was surprised when they first sent me for training, as I’d never thought of it before, but as soon as I started, I really enjoyed it.” She finished wetting and combing her hair and began to cut. “I actually feel quite lucky for this assignment. Not very many females are chosen for this.”