“Our good President.” The only accepted response. It wasn’t really a suggestion.
“Thank you. Your Health Screening has been scheduled for eight o’clock in the morning. Other forthcoming appointments include...” There was a short pause. “An appointment with the hygienist has been scheduled for next Monday. Have a pleasant and prosperous evening.” The sign that it was over.
“Our good President.”
“Your session is now complete. You may exit the Renunciation Booth. This pledge was brought to you by the Conservators of New Omega.” He saw the words Providing Your Future appear on the screen and the door to his side opened.
Serena was still waiting for Zack as he stepped from the booth. She was sitting on one of the nearby leather stools. The stool was white and had been recently polished with some sort of oil that smelt like honey and beeswax. It was the same that they used on the wood in the corridors.
“What's wrong?” Zack asked Serena. She was tapping her foot at the speed a hummingbird might flap its wings. “How is it possible that you're annoyed by this after so long? I’m getting used to it already.”
Serena sucked on the inside of her cheek, her lips pressed together in annoyance. “How is it possible? How is it possible?” she asked again, louder the second time. She stood up and dropped her voice to a whisper. “They keep reminding me, don't they? As if I don't know.”
“Reminding you about what?” Zack was confused.
“A health visit has been scheduled on your behalf blah blah blah,” she said in a whiny, mocking voice. A quick shot of air burst out of her nostrils, and her cheeks flushed pink.
“Yeah, they got me too. I have to go for a health screening in the morning,” he said, switching into the same mocking voice. “She said they could detect my heart rate had increased.” Serena didn’t seem amused.
“Not She, Zack. It. Anyway, whatever,” Serena said, shaking her head. “I'll see you later.” With that she turned and headed toward the doors.
Once Serena disappeared behind the frosted wall of glass he thought about what he could do with his time. He could pass by the library, or even head to the Refreshments Cafe where they served herbal tea and flavoured water. He had been a couple of times already, but without Serena for company it would be pretty boring. People weren't conversational in Omega Tower, and making friends wasn’t very easy. Conversational friendliness was the equivalent of a first date, accompanied by your parents. Awkward and restricted. The residents of Omega Tower knew that they had no choice but to follow the rules. Those of the manifesto, and those that were unwritten. Just like the unwritten Eleventh Creed that he had learned on his first day outside.
If you're not one of us, you're already dead.
One of the other unwritten rules that he had learned of was his responsibility to find a partner and procreate. If he struggled, Omega would find a partner on his behalf, but this necessity was frowned upon. The Conservators felt it unnatural. But the world had been destroyed and it wasn’t just roads and bridges that needed rebuilding. It was the population, too. He understood Sarah's actions that day on the bed. She wanted him because she needed him. When he had realised what was expected of him, and what was expected of her, he felt bad for dismissing her so easily. She had been here for ten years and she was in her thirties. If she managed to give birth to an Omega child she would be rewarded. As long as she was married. A child out of wedlock was also considered unnatural by the conservators.
There had been one such unnatural incidence already this year. Serena described to him how they brought the woman to the stage in shackles with the whole of Omega Tower present in the audience. Daley Cartwell was compere, but his usual demeanour was absent, replaced by a sombre, judgemental mood. The man who had impregnated her had also been summoned to the Judgement Ceremony, but he walked in freely.
He was asked to state whether or not he had ever agreed to marry the shackled woman before the child was conceived. His negative response was enough for them to ascertain that the woman in question had broken the Sixth Creed. She had not conducted herself with dignity, and had allowed herself to be cheapened. They covered the woman in a sheet and each Conservator painted a red six on the sheet. Afterwards, with the sheet still in place, she was helped by the Conservators’ wives to leave the stage.
She was removed from Omega Tower following the Judgement Ceremony. She was brought back to complete the Denunciation Ceremony a few weeks later. They leave it a while, Serena said. So that the fear has time to grow. Zack asked what that entailed, but Serena just shook her head.
The population had to be rebuilt the Omega Way. There were principles to uphold. Serena didn't mention what happened to the man.
Chapter Twenty Eight
After sitting in the Refreshments Cafe and drinking a cup of nettle tea without company, Zack returned to his room. Sarah was outside tending her bedded primroses. She was nearing the end of her effort and sweeping the stray soil into the hole in the ground. She stood up, obviously aware of his presence, but turned away from him to regard the boxes of spring colours. She had been avoiding him since that first day. Zack thought the most likely explanation was that she was embarrassed about her actions. It was obvious to both of them what she had wanted. Rejection is never easy to take, harder still if you're stuck in a building with a finite number of people. In the background he could hear the Omega Manifesto playing on one of the televisions somewhere in the corridor.
“Hi, Sarah,” Zack said as he lingered at his door. She straightened herself up and pressed her foot against the tile to close the dust chute. With her eyes cast down, she brushed her hands against a small floral apron that she was wearing to protect her white dress. She was tanned in comparison to the last time he saw her. There had been a late burst of summer, endless sticky days. It had been almost impossible to tolerate the sweat trailing down his back inside the orange boiler suit. He desperately needed a shower. He laughed to himself at the concept.
“Hello, Zachary.” She didn't look at him as she said this, and her hello was about as cold as it was in Delta Tower. The door to her room was open and he could see that she had set a clean dress on the edge of her bed. There was also a pot of tea brewing on the side, a trail of steam wafting up from the spout. “I assume, with it being a Friday, you have been outside. I trust that your day has been productive and fruitful in the name of our good President.”
Zack sucked his lips into his mouth, chewed on the edge of them. He nodded in agreement, but was thinking to himself how he couldn't face another forced Omega-style conversation today. It was hard work trying to remember what he should say and when he should say it. What he wanted to do was kick off his shoes, put his feet up and relax. He would really love to just talk about nothing for a few hours. Productive and fruitful. What did that even mean? His disappointment was obvious and it hung in the pause between her words and his silence.
“Our good President.” It was all he could muster. He reached for the handle of his door but then was interrupted when Sarah spoke again.
“Zack,” she said, inching towards him, her hand outstretched. She rested it on his forearm. She was hesitant as their gaze met, but there was something she wanted to say. Was she was looking for just enough courage to be herself? “Wait.”
Zack turned his body to face Sarah and leaned back against the closed door of his room. It was obvious to Sarah that he didn't hold much hope for their conversation. He still had one hand on the door handle.
“Zack, we didn't get off to a very good start.” She took another step towards him before reaching down and untying her apron. She wiped her hands on it as if it were a towel, before tossing it to a corner of the hallway. It seemed an almost rebellious act, to discard something non-regulatory with such disregard. She held out a hand, an offering of friendship.
Zack let go of his own door handle and took her hand in his. She was warm and dirty, her skin dusty from the soil. He liked it. It was good to feel something other than the
sterility of Omega Tower.
“Let's start again,” she said as she tested a cautious smile. I'd like to be friends, irrespective of any differences or misunderstandings that we might have already had.” She looked down at her feet and Zack's gaze followed her. She was rubbing one foot against the other like a nervous child in a school yard. “It's not every day that people arrive in Omega Tower, and I would hate to miss an opportunity to make a friend of the person who turned up in the very next room.”
She slipped her hand out from his, her eyes still darting about focussing on anything but him. He couldn’t deny that her actions during their first meeting had seemed weird at the time. But now that he was starting to understand the unwritten pressures placed upon the shoulders of the Omega Tower residents, it was harder to judge her. There were certain expectations for the women to meet. Plus, it was true what she said. It wasn't as if new people turned up in Omega Tower every day.
“It's no problem, Sarah. Let's start again, hey?” They both nodded and she smiled, more relaxed this time as she glanced up at his face. Her hair looked as if it had been freshly trimmed. Friday must be her day at the hygienist, Zack thought to himself. Then he noticed the tiny splinters of cut hair on her cheeks.
“Okay, that's great. That’s really great,” she said as she tucked a long white broom into a nearby cupboard. She picked up the discarded apron and stowed that away alongside the other tools. She fiddled with the front of her dress, smoothing out wrinkles that weren't there. “So you will come inside?” she asked. She was already leading the way and encouraging him to follow her. Although he was still desperate for a shower, he smiled and followed. She seemed so different today. There were none of those hard edges. No pretence that she knew and understood everything there was to know and that he knew nothing. It was as if she had been using some kind of defence mechanism and only now she was relaxed.
“Good afternoon, Miss. Fletcher. Thank you for completing your visit to the hygienist today. Your commitment to the unquestionable success of the Republic of New Omega is appreciated by our good President. Please do not forget that you are yet to complete your daily renunciation pledge.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said to the Unity Panel, the thing that Zack had once taken for a television. Simon had explained to Zack that the idea of the Unity Panel was to make people feel connected. That there was always somebody, even if it was just a machine, looking out for them. “Sleep,” Sarah said, without breaking her stride.
She poured them both cups of mint tea and he sat in one of the chairs facing out across the city of New Omega. The only thing that interrupted the view was the Unity Panel displaying the words Providing Your Future. She joined him, sitting in the other chair. There was a small glass table that separated their chairs and she set her cup and saucer, perfect white porcelain, onto it. He took a sip and then she did the same. It was better than the nettle tea which he had suffered in the Refreshments Cafe. She shuffled about in her seat, pulling out a cushion from behind her which she tossed to the floor. She pulled her feet up underneath her legs. She was so casual today. A completely different person.
“I'm sorry about the other day, Zack. I had forgotten just how new you really are to Omega Tower. Nothing is familiar to you at the moment. Everything, and I guess everybody, must seem a little strange.” She reached over and placed her hand on top of his. There was no pressure in her touch, it was just a connection. “Please try to remember I've been here a long time, and I've got used to life here and how it works. It's normal to me now. In time it will be normal for you too.” She stroked her hand across the back of his before resting back into her seat. She interlaced her fingers like the weave of a basket. “But in the meantime, while you adjust, I'll try to remember that you only just got here.”
“I’d appreciate that,” said Zack.
“Consider it done. But, I do want to talk to you about something.” For a moment he thought that she was looking out towards the city, at the broken buildings or the new construction work of the resource centre. He tilted his head towards the left to get a better look at her eyes to see what it was that she was looking at. He realised that she was not looking at anything. She was just thinking about something.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Did you start your relocation therapy? I hope you don’t mind me asking. It’s just that you look more settled.” She paused, bringing her hands up onto her upper arms and caressing herself. “You look more like everything isn’t completely weird anymore.” She sniggered a little bit, self-deprecating as if she was in on a joke about Omega Tower and her being here was the punch line.
Zack nodded. “Yeah, I started the sessions. I've been twice. Simon meets me in the Refreshments Cafe afterwards. He is very interested in my relocation therapy.”
“Of course he is. It's his job to make sure you integrate. If you fail, he fails. Nobody wants that.”
“I certainly don't want that,” said Zack. He reached forwards for the cup and took a sip of his tea.
“I certainly don't want that either.” Her eyes were fixed upon his face, as if the thought of his failure brought her personal pain. “I think there is still a lot that you don't know or understand about Omega, Zack. But I think it's important that I explain one thing that perhaps you haven't realised yet. In the interests of you not failing, I mean.”
“What's that?”
“That here in Omega Tower, and I tell you this as a friend, there are certain rules. Some of them you know about. These are the rules you recite as part of the pledge. The ten creeds of the manifesto. They are the rules that play out twice a day on channel zero. I imagine these rules are ingrained within your memory.”
“You can't get away from the manifesto, no matter which tower you live in. I don't think that there's a single person who couldn't recite the manifesto by heart.”
“I don’t imagine there is.” She stood up and walked to the window. She leaned her palms flat against the glass and looked east. “Do you ever look at Delta and wonder what's going on in there now?”
“Yes,” he said, joining her at the window. “I do. I wonder if they're asleep, or whether they think it's day when I know it’s night. I wonder if Leonard is thinking about me, or if he's looking at the sky searching for a Sun that doesn't exist.”
“Who is Leonard?” she asked as she turned to face Zack.
“My friend in the next office. The one I mentioned before when we talked about the bombs.” She nodded to show that she remembered. Zack rubbed his hands across his face, turned so that his back and head rested against the glass. “I don’t like to see it anymore. I try not to look at it. It's strange to think that only a few weeks ago I was one of the people stuck in there.”
“But now you're here,” she said, reaching down to his wrist. She picked up his right hand, the one that had previously been branded with his mark of Delta, and now bore the Omega barcode instead. She held her wrist up alongside his so that her barcode was also visible. It was almost an exact replica of his. “Now you're one of us. I appreciate that it might take time for you to adjust, but it is essential that you remember that this is where you belong now.”
“I'm getting used to it.” Whether he wanted to believe it or not, he had more in common with Sarah than anybody in Delta. Even Leonard. When Zack won that lottery everything changed, and none of their shared experiences could bridge the difference that it made.
She let go of his wrist and stroked his arm with the same hand that she had been using to hold him.
“I imagine that both the relocation therapy sessions and probably Simon too, stressed the importance of family.”
“Yes, you could say that. They told me how valuable they consider partnership and family. They told me that I should aim to find a partner soon. But I guess I'm just trying to concentrate on doing my job. Doing the thing that I was brought here to do. I guess you could say I'm doing what you told me I should do.” She looked confused. “I'm just being brave.”
&n
bsp; “I heard that you saw a Drifter from the Barrens.” He nodded his head. “What did it look like?”
“What do you mean, what did it look like?” What did she expect? She asked as if he was about to describe a monster, or perhaps Big Foot.
“Boy? Girl? Young? Old?” She said all of these words in quick succession, as if there was desperation to know. To her the Drifters were like some sort of alien race, a visitor from another planet that was never her own.
“A girl. Young.” He walked away to the edge of the bed, trying to take some deep breaths to clear the memory of the dead girl lying on the ground, swimming in rainwater and blood.
Ten seconds. Give him twenty.
The words rang out in Zack’s head as if it was yesterday. He sensed that Sarah had arrived behind him, her body close and one hand resting on his shoulder.
“They killed her, didn't they?” She wrapped her arms around him, and pressed her face up against his spine. It was the most human contact he had felt since the day he stepped into Delta for the final time. To feel her arms around his chest and the warmth of her breath in the centre of his back took him straight back to his old life. To Samantha.
They stood there for what felt like an age. In this moment he didn't think about the Renunciation Pledge that he knew he would have to repeat tomorrow. He didn’t think about the visit to the doctor that he didn't need but had been instructed to take. He didn't think about how difficult he had found it to lose the branding of Delta, only to be branded by Omega. And for the first time he felt something other than complete loneliness. He had always thought that Omega Tower was the answer to his problems. But now as he was standing in an unexpected embrace with the heartbeat of a stranger striking him in his back, he knew that it wasn't Omega that would make him feel better. Okay, going outside had felt good, at least until somebody got shot. But the comfort of another person had done more to make him remember what life used to be like than anything else he had won.
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