by G. C. Julien
“Oh, yes, yes, right away!” comes a mousy voice.
Up to the tower, where Eve was standing moments ago, stands a straggly-haired woman waving frantically. She quickly then disappears behind the concrete wall. She must have been watching this whole time.
“Avi, Darnell,” Vrin orders, “go see the family over there, follow protocol, and bring them on board.”
She’s referring to the people who’ve been standing at a distance since we landed. It looks like they’ve been waiting to get inside of Eden for days. They look related, all of them, and malnourished and exhausted.
Looks like we got here on time. For their sake, anyways.
Vrin takes a step toward the open gates, but Eve stops her with a firm hand on her chest.
“Vrin, wait,” she says. “The influenza virus is spreading. Let me go inside, and I’ll retrieve only those who are healthy.”
“No need.” Vrin’s loud voice carries through the open gates and she widens her stance. “We have advanced state-of-the-art medical equipment and several world-renowned doctors in Elysium. Let’s get everyone out and we’ll focus on healing them afterward.”
She clicks her fingers over her head, and her male soldiers start descending the door ramp.
Eve, having no other choice but to let them enter her kingdom, extends a welcoming hand as they walk by. “Come on in…”
That smile scares me. It’s wide and forceful. It’s so wide that I can see her molars.
God.
Doesn’t anyone else see through her like I do? I glance at Freyda, but she focuses her attention on her feet. We’ve been here for all of ten minutes, and already, Eve’s got a hold of her. Freyda’s like a beaten dog who’s been dragged back to her master.
“Freyda,” Eve orders, her fierce eyes shooting up toward us. “What’re you waiting for? Let’s go.”
I reach for Freyda but she yanks her arm away from me. She’s back to being Eve’s puppet. Back to obeying every order without question. How does Eve do it? How does she manipulate such a good, strong-minded person into being a brainless soldier?
* * * * * *
“He thinks we’re all a bunch of brainless soldiers,” James says, eyeballing Commander Howieson.
All that runs through my mind is, Aren’t we? Or, more specifically, Aren’t you? Why’s James so upset about Howieson telling us to arm up? He’s only doing his job. We’re about to land any minute.
I think James has a problem with authority. If anything, he wants to be the commander, and he’s pissed off that Howieson got the position instead of him. It’s scary to think that James is jealous of someone like Howieson. The man has no soul. Every time he talks, it’s like listening to a machine.
“Gentlemen, shoot to kill,” Howieson says, marching back and forth at the front of the plane. “Mothers, grandmothers, daughters—I don’t give a shit. These women have become enemies of the United States of America.”
We’re on our way to the White House, and all of a sudden, we have a kill order.
My stomach, or at least what’s left of it, feels like it stayed behind some thirty thousand feet below. Shoot to kill? Jesus Christ. This can’t be happening. Minutes ago, we were on our way to provide relief to the White House, not actually kill everyone protesting.
A few guys around me shift in their seats, probably realizing that this is about to happen. We aren’t playing in virtual reality anymore. We’re being asked to kill real human beings… Real women and children. It’s obvious that the ones who still have an ounce of humanity left don’t want to do this, but what choice do they have?
Soldiers obey, and we’re all in too deep.
Besides, the last time someone disobeyed a direct order on a plane, he was thrown out.
“Do we have a kill order from the president, sir?” someone asks.
Howieson turns his huge bearded face to the side like he’s insulted that someone would even ask. He cracks his neck, something that’s big enough to be someone’s torso, and searches us to find who spoke out.
But Howieson doesn’t have time to say anything. The door behind him opens with a loud swoosh, and out comes a man wearing a suit that must have cost more than the plane, shoes so shiny they cast an aura around him, and a smirk so arrogant I want to knock his teeth out.
But at the same time, I’d be afraid to. This man, whoever he is, is powerful. I can see it in his eyes. He looks like he owns the damn plane. In fact, he looks like owns all of us.
Isn’t that what we are? A bunch of pawns in this sick war?
“The president hasn’t given a kill order yet,” the man announces. “But he will very soon.” Then, he lowers his head forward like he’s looking over a pair of sunglasses and observes each of us. What’s he trying to do? Wait for us to realize who he is or what he represents?
I have no fucking clue who this man is, or who he thinks he is, but when his eyes meet mine at last, I know one thing: I’m sitting only a few feet away from the most dangerous man alive.
He pulls his chin up and gazes down at us as if we’re nothing more than specks of dust on his high-end Italian leather shoes. “President Price does as he’s told.”
* * * * * *
“W-what’s going on?”
“Oh my God.”
“Mommy!”
The shouts carry through the huge main hall in Eden when Vrin and her men walk in like they own the place. The women look terrified like they’re about to be slaughtered at the hands of these soldiers. Women grab hold of their little girls, and some girls crawl underneath the dresses of their mothers, grandmothers, or even their older sisters.
“It’s okay!” Eve shouts, but no one seems to want to listen to her.
She raises both hands in the air and smiles, but that smile doesn’t even last two seconds. Soon, it turns upside down when she undoubtedly realizes she has no control over her women. Not now. Not while they’re being infiltrated by soldiers.
On the bright side, the men aren’t holding their guns. They have them fastened to their backs and they form a straight line against the wall, heads held high and gazes aimed at the back of the room. A few of them, however, can’t help but look at the women.
One young man, no older than twenty years old, catches a glimpse of a young woman with rosy cheeks and sun-kissed blond hair braided to one side. He smirks at her, and she offers the same shy greeting. But it doesn’t last long. The woman standing next to her, assumedly her mother, grabs her arm and pulls her as far away from the soldier as possible.
“Everyone!” Eve tries again.
“You promised us safety, Eve!”
“What is this? Why are there men inside of Eden?”
“Tell us what’s going on!”
“Everyone, please—”
Then, a loud whistle bounces off the walls and makes me wince. In fact, it makes everyone grimace and reach for their ears, which I’m assuming was Vrin’s intention.
“Enough!” she shouts.
Her voice is so authoritative. Not in a panicked sort of way, like Eve, but in an I’m in control and I’ll take care of you as long as you listen to me sort of way.
Surprisingly, everyone goes quiet. Eve doesn’t seem too impressed by this. She searches her people with wide eyes and a wrinkled forehead. She must feel betrayed.
“My name is Vrin, and these are my people.” She rests a hand on her padded military vest and then points at her men. “We’re here today because Eve sent a search team to locate a safer living space for all of you.”
The crowd’s focus shifts from Vrin to Eve like they’re trying to spot the truth in one of them. I don’t blame them. Who can they trust? A woman who, despite her faults, has managed to keep most of them alive, or a complete stranger?
Eve has her problems, that’s for sure. But I feel a bit bad for her. She seems devastated. It reminds me of when I was eight years old and a new kid joined our class. All of my friends thought he was the coolest thing because he could ride a skyboard. My talent
was being able to ride a horse. Mama didn’t have the money to buy me a skyboard. In fact, most parents didn’t.
We were poor, but my friends loved me and always loved visiting my grandpa’s farm, where I’d show off by standing on the horse while it was moving. But then little Eduardo came along with his fancy clothes and thirty-thousand-dollar skyboard and it was like I’d disappeared. He had the SB-9000, which was the best in its class. It flew up five hundred feet and even had protective crash-preventative mechanisms that brought the board down safely if the person riding it lost control. When kids asked him to ride it, he’d let them, even though he wasn’t supposed to; a special license was needed.
I’d never understood how he got the license at eight years old. His family was rich, and they must have paid someone off.
Now, Eve reminds me of young me. She doesn’t show it on the outside, but I can sense how terrified she is. Any moment now, she could lose total control over her paradise. If these women decide to follow Vrin, what’s Eve supposed to do about it? The worst part is that in the eyes of Eve’s women, it’s her fault all of this is happening. She authorized the mission to Area 82.
That could either be a good thing or a bad thing.
“We hear there’s a virus going around,” Vrin continues.
Rapid nods fill the room, followed by coughs and sneezes.
“In Elysium,” Vrin continues, “we have high-end medical equipment and incredible doctors and surgeons. Whatever’s spreading here can be treated. I assure you that you will be very comfortable inside of Elysium. We have clean running water, electricity, heat, and even central air.”
The women’s nods turn into excited grins, and for a second, it’s like everyone’s cured of their illnesses. Like no one’s sick, and they’re perfectly healthy. I guess it would be like telling someone with a broken arm that they just won a million dollars. It’s unlikely they’d still feel any pain for a while after hearing that. Or at least, they wouldn’t focus on it.
“We have aircraft, functioning vehicles, hydroponic farms, livestock, and a cutting-edge defense system to protect you from any exterior threat.”
Okay, now, she’s showing off.
The women already look sold on the idea.
“If you’re willing to join us,” Vrin continues, “I assure you that you’ll be comfortable and well taken care of. Now, I can’t force any of you to make that decision. It’s up to you. The plane will be leaving in one hour.” She pulls her sleeve back and glances down at her wristwatch. I haven’t seen one of those things in ages. “If you’re joining us, please grab your belongings and meet us at the front gates.”
She glances at Eve, almost like she’s asking for permission.
Eve nods, but when she doesn’t say anything, Vrin claps two solid hands together.
“All right, people, let’s move out.”
CHAPTER 12 – LUCY
I feel like I’ve gone back in time to when I was six years old on Christmas Eve. Mom said something about last-minute Christmas shopping and how everything was too late to find me a sitter. So instead of staying home and playing on my H-Cap, I was plucked underneath my arms, brought into the car, and forced to follow her around while she plowed her way through the massive crowd in the mall.
I hated it. People kept bumping into us, and every time, Mom apologized, even though they were the ones at fault. My mom was being polite, but by the end of the day, it was obvious she was getting annoyed. She mumbled, Sorry, and then rolled her eyes and shook her head so hard her hair swept her shoulders.
Today, that’s what it feels like. Women are scurrying around Eden as if it’s caught fire. They’re rushing in every direction, looking for their friends or family members, and scavenging through their small, iron-gated cells to pack whatever cherished items they plan on bringing.
My H-Cap is the only thing I care to bring. From what the military lady said, it sounds like I’ll be able to power it back up again. That’s what I’m most excited about right now—getting to use my H-Cap again.
I’ll get to play games, read stories, and who knows, I may still have my old pictures and videos on there.
Pictures of my mom.
“Is it true?”
I swing my body around to find Emily leaning against my gate, shoulders slouched and a single duffel bag resting by her feet. A big hole decorates the side of it, and it’s obvious that she tried to fix it on her own. Small beige threads criss-cross over one another and form a hectagon. It looks sloppy, and the color clashes with the bag’s forest green exterior. She must have tried to fix it when we first arrived in Eden, assumedly to avoid asking Sahana, who was already in over her head with repair requests.
“Is what true? That we’re leaving this place for good?” I try not to scoff—I’ll come across as an entitled brat. The truth is, I couldn’t be happier that we’re leaving this place. Mom didn’t come here with me, but for some reason, Eden reminds me of her. Maybe it’s the heartache. Everything about Eden—the humid scent, the main hall’s white tiles that get clay brown every autumn, the women gathering together in the cafeteria to reminisce about old times—reminds me of what I’ve lost.
A fresh start is exactly what I need. Admittedly, everything feels surreal. The thought of leaving Eden feels like a dream, but it’s happening, and I need to hurry up if I want to make it on that plane.
“It’s hard to believe,” I say, “but it’s really happening, and so much is going to change.” I reach for my Magic of Herbs book and squeeze it into my backpack. Whether or not I’ll even need this at the new place is beyond me, but the truth is, it’s interesting. “Were you there when the lady explained everything?”
Emily moans and rubs her pink eyes. “What?”
“Did you just wake up or something?” I ask.
She nods and wipes a line of drool from her lip. “Y-yeah. Malory came running down the hallway squealing about boys or something.” Poor Emily looks pissed off about the rude awakening. “What’s going on? She said we’re all leaving. Now even the kids are running around. I packed my stuff”—she points at her beaten and deflated duffel bag—“but I still don’t get what’s going on.”
I crane my neck and gawk at her bag as if gifted with x-ray vision. “What’re you bringing?”
She shrugs. “Two pairs of jeans, two shirts, and a picture of—” But she stops herself short.
It’s obvious Emily is still afraid to talk about her dad. What she doesn’t realize, though, is that this new place isn’t only filled with women. There were about a dozen men standing in the main hall. Some had beards, which was weird to see when you’re accustomed to being around only women, and others clean-shaven heads. They were so big, too. Two of them who stood nearest to Eve towered over her, their chests puffed out and their shoulders wide. I imagine she didn’t like that very much.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I don’t think you’ll have to keep your dad a secret anymore.”
Her big, swollen eyes stare into mine. Is she about to cry? Is she relieved, or is she sad? Without saying anything, she nods weakly and reaches for her bag. “Malory said something about medicine, too.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m telling you, Emily, this is a good thing. I get that it’s scary right now, but do you honestly want to spend the rest of your life living in a prison cell?”
She shrugs.
Poor Emily. She seems so depressed.
“Puppy!” a little girl suddenly shouts.
She waddles from side to side, running across Division Three’s opening and straight toward where everyone is standing.
Emily and I look at each other, but only for a moment. Within seconds we’re running down the hall chasing after the little girl. She runs with her chubby arms swinging over her head, her thick pigtails swinging like horsetails and her red puffy dress bouncing up and down. Her mother follows closely behind, and together, they disappear into the dense crowd of women.
“Easy, easy,” comes a man’s voice.
Then, a whimper fills the air, and I look at Emily again. Could there actually be a puppy here? Where did it come from? The last time we saw a puppy was when Freyda brought Ruby, Eden’s favorite and only golden retriever—into Eden for the first time. She’d said something about the dog having been saved from death and how she’d done everything she could to save its brothers and sisters.
So where does this new puppy come from? I hurry toward the crowd and elbow my way through the adults seeing as it seems to be what all the kids are doing. When I finally break through into the open, children of all ages surround a man at the front of the group, some on their hands and knees, others, on their butts. They’re all squirming and wiggling in their spots, obviously wanting to get closer to this man.
I don’t know who he is, but there’s something soft about him. His brown eyes remind me of warm honey. He smiles at the children and regrips his hold around the puppy. He, or she, squishes its face into the hairs of the man’s bushy beard.
“Let’s all be really quiet for her, okay?” he says, eyeballing all the kids. He’s a bit awkward, undoubtedly because he hasn’t been around kids since America went to hell. But he’s trying, and that’s all that matters. “Her name’s Justice,” he continues, petting her soft-looking head.
She’s a light gray color, almost blue from where I’m standing, and the tips of her paws are white. Or at least, they seem to be. She keeps kicking the air and tucking her feet inside his thick, dark-haired forearm. Her tail, too, is tucked. According to Freyda, this means she’s scared. When Ruby first came to Eden, Freyda took it upon herself to give everyone a crash course on canine body language to avoid any problems. Fortunately, Ruby is about the most docile dog in the world. She can be poked, prodded, and even pulled at, and she doesn’t seem to care. She loves kids, no matter how rough they are with her.
I wonder if Justice is the same.
“I’m gonna put her down right here,” the man says, leaning forward. “Would one of you like to pet her?”
The main hall explodes with little voices—screams, pleas, and bare feet clapping against the hard floor.