“The wall?” Zack was confused. “I thought the bridges were the priority.” Simon was walking towards him, his feet moving quickly, his arms outstretched as if he wanted to scoop him away. The sun was high in the sky now and most of the dinner crowd had gathered at the windows which stretched around three walls in one giant curve as if they were standing within a fish's eye. “I'm supposed to start with the bridges, right?” Zack said as Simon encouraged him away.
“We'll talk more about this tomorrow, Zachary,” said Simon as he took hold of Zack's arm. But Zack was confused and he didn't want to look stupid now. He wanted to impress these people, and he had to do that in order to secure another meeting so that he could discuss Delta and Leonard.
Anthony Grayson didn’t wait for a response. He pulled back his hand, and as he walked away to leave, he said, “Simon will show you out. Emily, come on. Come with me.”
Zack saw Emily being pulled by President Grayson and immediately looked away. It was an instinct, as if he was seeing something he shouldn't be. But what if this was his only chance? What if he was never invited for another meeting? There was something different behind these walls; the clothes, the colour, long hair instead of the Omega Regulation crop. This was the old world. Once again he realised that what he had found in Omega Tower was nowhere near the top of the hierarchy. He had moved up a level, that much was true, but he was already learning that what was going on up here was different from what was going on downstairs. A new elite. This could be his last chance. He had to make it count. “Nice to see you again, Emily,” Zack shouted, just before the President pulled her towards a far corridor by her wrist.
“Come on now, Zachary. It’s time to go,” said Simon, as he too pulled him towards the door. He followed Simon, in fact he had no choice, but he kept his eyes on Emily. He chanted in his head, turn around, turn around, willing her to look his way. She stopped only briefly, but long enough to look up to make eye contact with Zack. She looked as if she was about to say something, but then her father gave her another tug and she was gone. Zack knew he was a man who made the decisions. He didn't follow orders. He made them.
“So did you enjoy the dinner? What a wonderful man he is, our good President.” Simon was smiling as he spoke, straightening out his suit sleeves. “And Daley. Entertaining as ever during the Sunrise and Presentation Ceremonies.”
“Why do you all say that?” Zack asked as they stood at the doors to the lift. There were two Guardians standing on either side. It was the first time he had noticed their presence in Omega Tower. They were tucked into a recess in the wall, as if perhaps to pretend that they were not really there. As if they didn't want to advertise the necessity of their being here.
“Say what?”
“Our good President. What's that all about? People say it after everything. I heard somebody say it after running up the stairs only yesterday.”
“Oh, Zachary, Zachary,” he chuckled. “What am I going to do with you? Don't you understand yet? There wouldn't be any of this if it wasn't for the President. Everything here is his plan. His doing. We would all be dead if it wasn't for him.” Zack's eyebrows were growing in, and he reached up to scratch them. They walked along the corridor and passed the Community Level where he was yet to visit. Tomorrow was tattoo day, the removal of the old number, the branding of a new mark for a new place. After that, he would be able to go beyond the doors of the Community Level. “You'll understand soon enough. It will all become normal for you.”
“What about the girl? What's her name?” He played dumb, as if he couldn't remember. Simon started laughing again as they wound their way past another set of lifts. It came out more as a sneer, a leer, a patronising tone that suggested he knew something that Zack didn't.
“Don't pretend you don't remember. Emily, Zachary, if you insist. Her name is Emily.”
“Oh yes, that's it.” They arrived outside Zack's room. His neighbour, Sarah, was there, and she was tending a planter which contained a rainbow of primroses. They were in full bloom, growing inside the giant glass greenhouse of Omega. Zack had started to sweat under the armpit and was craving a shower. He needed one. How quickly, he thought, that he had developed needs and expectations.
“Get some rest, Zachary. It's a big day tomorrow. I'll be here later to discuss the arrangements for you to venture outside for the first time. And for you to get rid of this ugly thing.” Simon pointed to Zack's wrist before turning to leave. Zack brushed his thumb across the number that had got him into Omega Tower and thought back to the last time he was in Delta, the place where the numbers had meant something. The place that Leonard still called home. God, he really hoped Leonard was all right.
Sarah was looking up at him from her kneeling position, a wide smile on her face. Perhaps the most honest, open smile he had seen since he arrived. He was about to say hello, introduce himself again, when he heard Simon speaking. “Oh, and one other thing.” Simon was speaking above the background noise, drawing attention to himself. He was quite the showman at times, and Zack was pretty sure he was gay. Although he did have a wife that was with him at the dinner with the president so maybe he was wrong. Samantha had always told him he was quick to judge people. “Whatever thoughts are running through your head about that girl, and I don't mean this one,” he said pointing at Sarah. “I mean the other one whose name you pretend you can't remember. Whatever it is you are considering, forget it. Pretend you never even considered it. I'm offering you a word of advice, a word in your shell-like,” he giggled at the hilarity of his own joke. “When it comes to you, E, M, I, L, Y, spells trouble. If you want to be happy in Omega, you can be. You'll have everything you need. Everything you want. I'll assure you of that right now.” Simon brushed the creases of his trousers, pressed his perfect grey suit into place. He spoke again, softer this time, more like a threat. “But cause trouble, my dear little Delta friend, and you'll find yourself outside with the Drifters picking off the underside of those bridges. And you'll do it, you know. You'll pick and pick and pick until your little fingers fall off. You'll find any way to stop those that will be coming for you.” With that he pivoted, shouted, “Eight tonight I'll be back here for you,” and was gone, leaving Zack wondering what the hell he was talking about.
Chapter Twenty Three
“I bet you're glad it's all over, aren't you?” Zack was still watching the empty space that Simon had left behind, the occasional person crossing his path in the distant main corridor. He didn't really hear what Sarah had said.
“Pardon me?” Sarah pushed herself upright, one hand wedged onto her knee. Her fingers were black at the tips, stained by the soil. She dusted her hands against a small apron made of green cloth with a frilly edge that seemed archaic in the clean, glass-rich environment. Fragments of soil floated to the floor as if in a vacuum.
“I said I bet you're glad it's all over. It must have been quite a first week.”
“Ur, yes,” he said, glad for the distraction. “I'm sorry I haven't really even spoken to you. My name is Zack.” He held out his hand, but she didn't take it. Instead she held up her palms, all five brown fingers on show.
“To be honest, you haven't really had much of a chance, have you? It's been a big week for you, and Simon hasn't really left you alone.” She smiled as if she knew him well. There was an old-world informality about her, a casualness that he hadn't found elsewhere in Omega. He was so grateful to be here, but so far everybody had been so stuffed up, like puppets on strings, doing as their masters command and speaking in a weird way. Sarah was doing something with him that he hadn't done since arriving in Omega. Chatting.
“I guess it would be nice just to switch off for a moment. Relax a bit.”
“Well, you can now.” She reached down and picked up a small set of metal hand shears. The metal was shiny and new. The handle was made of red plastic. She worked them open and closed a couple of times to dust off any soil particles. She pressed her foot on a tile in the floor by shifting her weight onto it.
As she lifted her foot the tile rose upwards, creating a space in the floor. She swept the soil particles into the space, before closing the tile with her foot. “The Presentation and Sunrise Ceremonies are all finished. And Simon said he won't be back until eight tonight. Will you come in for tea?”
She led him through into her room, a near-replica of his but smaller and with less window space. He couldn't help moving towards it to look at the view and as he did the television screen came to life. The same woman who appeared on his screen next door appeared before him, her perma-happy face full of smiles. He had not yet worked out if he thought she was real or computer generated.
“Good afternoon, Miss Fletcher. Do not forget that you are yet to complete your daily renunciation pledge. Currently, the Renunciation Booths are all in use. I recommend visiting after dinner when the booths will be quieter.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes towards Zack to express her frustration. “Sleep.”
“Thank you, Miss Fletcher.” With that, the screen blurred to a milky white background, and just like in ISOLATION ONE, the words Providing Your Future appeared.
“How did you do that?” Zack asked as he looked back and forth from Sarah to the screen. He had been in the constant company of the artificial voice, and she often spoke as he moved about his room. She would suggest making a drink, or would perhaps remind him of outstanding tasks and appointments. As soon as he moved, she would speak to him. She had been driving him crazy.
Sarah laughed. “Sleep. Just tell her to sleep.”
“That simple,” he laughed to himself. He took a step forward and gazed out of the window.
“It's quite something, isn't it?” Sarah said as she motioned to the window which Zack was pressed up against. The view was one of the main reasons he wasn't sleeping. He didn't want to miss anything by closing his eyes for the fear it would be lost to him again. She picked up a small cast iron tea pot, the kind used in Chinese restaurants before there weren't any of those left. She filled it with water and set it on a small electrical stove, one red eye burning bright from the top of a glass base. She untied her apron and folded it, placed it in a drawer with the shears. “Every day it changes.”
“I can't get used to it. Sometimes I just sit and stare at it.” He searched for a reference point. St. Paul's Cathedral and the broken dome. Behind that he thought he could see a fragment of what was once St. Bartholomew's Hospital. He followed the curve of the river and found the old spoke of The London Eye, and behind it the patch of green that might once have been St. James's Park. There should have been a palace behind it. The park seemed bigger than he remembered, and the edges were no longer sharp. Instead they appeared blurred outwards like they had been smudged. “It's surreal.”
She set two cups down on the table and he walked over to join him.
“There is so much to get used to,” he said. “The dustbin hidden in the floor outside for example. How do you know about that?”
“Remember, you have been here for ten days. I've been here for ten years.” He sat down on the nearest chair and Sarah sat down opposite him. He had to remind himself just how new everything still was. Although he was here, and after the Presentation Ceremony he was officially part of something, he still didn't really understand any of it.
“So this was your room, your office I mean. When the war happened.”
“No,” she said, taking a sip of tea. Mint. She motioned to his cup and he picked it up. “Drink it. It'll help your stomach.”
“How did you...?”
“Just a guess. I'm right though, right?” He nodded and they smiled at their first shared joke, their first chance at getting to know each other. He wished it hadn't been about his bowels, but it felt good nevertheless. “Anyway, in answer to your question, no, this wasn't my office. That's how it worked in Delta I guess, but there were fewer people here. More space. I worked on level three. I was allocated this room afterwards.”
“Did you see the bombs?”
“No. We had been evacuated. We didn't know why. We thought a fire.” She looked down into her cup, a small mint leaf still circling on the surface. She picked up her spoon and fished it out. “I guess we weren't far wrong.”
“Where did they take you?” Zack picked up his tea and took a sip.
“Underground. We were down there for a couple of days, but it wasn't so bad. We had supplies. They had to guarantee the integrity of the building before they would allow us to venture above ground. All I remember is seeing the dust. It looked like winter.” They sat in silence for a moment while they both digested the memory, before Sarah spoke again. “I guess you saw it. The bombs I mean.”
“Yes.” It was like admitting to witnessing a murder or a natural disaster. Even thinking about it was hard. That moment represented everything he had lost.
“What happened?” She curled her feet up underneath her knees, wrapped her arms protectively around them. She waited for him to be ready. This was the real history, the eye witness account that doesn't adhere to the official statements. The leaders make history, the people tell it. Rows and rows of faces who could tell it better than any textbook, if they had the chance.
“I couldn't hear for three days afterwards.” He avoided starting with the bombs. “We just huddled down and hoped for the best at the beginning. Once the Guardians got there, it became easier.”
“Who?”
“The people from the Republic. We called them Guardians.”
“The Coordinators. That's their official name.” He nodded and accepted the correction, and doubted that he would ever refer to them by their official title. “Where were you when the bombs fell?”
“In my office. Level thirty. When I first saw it I thought it was a meteorite or something. I was kind of excited. I rushed next door to my friend to tell him to look at it. We stayed there as the sky lit up and then I knew it was more than a meteorite. It was like the world was on fire.”
“It was.” They both paused to take a sip of tea. “So, tomorrow,” she said, changing the subject. Zack was grateful. Never had those memories felt so far away, and recalling them was tough. Especially to think about Leonard still there, stuck in Delta. “Tomorrow you are going outside.”
“Yes. And I'm looking forward to it. I've been outside already, up on level seventy two. Just to feel the wind, was...”
“Something else, eh?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I only went outside once before that, I mean when I was in Delta. Before they boarded up the sublevels.”
“You went outside?” She sat forwards in her chair like a Jack-in-the-box. Ηe might as well have told her that he had been to the moon. “How? Why would you even risk it?” Sarah was edging forwards, desperate to hear the story from the front line. To her Zack was like a soldier who had been stuck in the trenches, a man who had endured. He could speak of lives unknown, experiences she couldn't have lived through.
“I had to. It was,” he paused, thinking back to the time when he carried the limp body of a woman, his arms underneath her, blood left like a trail in the dust. Somebody else carried the baby. He couldn't bring himself to look into the woman's eyes. He didn't want to look into them and see what happened when life was over. Whose face might he have seen? His own? His mother's? Samantha's? “It was necessary. I didn't want to go outside. I just had to.”
“There is a lot that happens that we might wish could be different, but that cannot be out of necessity. Things we do because we have to.”
“You're right in one way.” He drank back the mint tea, draining his cup. He wanted to change the subject, but didn't know what to say. Her words made it impossible not to think of Samantha and the baby that they should have been raising together. The baby he had failed to want. Life in Delta Tower had taught him what it was to have no choice. To do something difficult out of necessity. But the hardest part of that was the realisation that his old life had been so rich with opportunity that he used to throw them away without a second thought. He k
new now that he could have made different choices before the war, nothing more so than the fact he should have told Samantha that he wanted their child. “But maybe sometimes what you say is not true. Maybe it just takes a moment of courage to change something. To do the right thing.”
She sat back in her chair, her cup hovering in front of her lips as she investigated one of her teeth with the tip of her tongue. “Courage is a big word, Zack. Most people can say it, but few can spell it.”
“What, so you don't think people are brave?”
“That's different. Every day people are brave. You have been brave for the last ten years to survive in Delta. Bravery is something you can find within yourself, but it's not a thing. You can't produce it. Bravery is inherent. It's just there, or it isn't. Those who don't have it fall apart. Bravery is about putting up with something, Zack. Endurance.” She stood up, took his cup from him and set them both down in her kitchenette. “Look out there,” she said, pointing towards the river. She was standing with her back to the glass, her weight pressed against it. It was enough to make his knees quiver. “There is a whole world out there. You think that everything beyond these walls is destroyed? Brave is what we are, Zack. We are braving it out, biding our time. We are not stuck. We have legs. But yet we stay here. And why? Because courage is something else. Courage is doing something you believe in, even though you know it’s madness. Even though you know it's a risk. Courageous would have been to smash your windows to prove that what was on the outside was different to what you saw every day, because you believed it.”
“Some might say that is just stupidity.” He was laughing, but she wasn't amused.
“Okay. Courageous would be to walk out through those doors tomorrow morning and not come back. To walk beyond the perimeter, past the point that is permitted and venture into the greenery. Into the places that don't belong to us anymore. That instead belong to the outside world and those in it.”
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