by Jaclyn Lewis
“Elise, sauter les pistes!” He says
Even though he’s speaking French, I understand and I know he is telling me to jump the tracks in front of the train. The train is gaining speed and I know it will be a close call. What is more dangerous?—The men chasing us or the rushing steel that will kill me if I don’t make it across in time.
Why did he call me “Elise”? We keep running so fast that my legs ache. Fear fuels my energy and willpower to keep going. When we are far enough ahead of the train we jump over and tumble into a roll on the other side. We jump up and run again, doubling back to the station, hoping to make it there and be lost in the crowd before the train no longer shields us from the masked men.
My heart is the only thing I feel; it is in my legs, my hands, my head. It pounds like a drum whose only rhythm is fright. As we reach the station I catch a quick glimpse of myself in a window. I’m much shorter and I have black hair. I’m wearing a leather jacket and a diamond necklace. This woman doesn’t look anything like the girl I saw in the mirror before I went to bed.
The train end of the train passes just as we start to run into the station, but the men are standing in front of us with raised guns like they knew what our plan was all along. I’m out of breath. My body trembles as I pant in exhaustion. I take a step back, but I know there’s no place for me to go now. I turn to look into the blond man’s eyes. Their lavender lights gloss over with tears now. They look like they would have a long story to tell, but we haven’t got the time.
I don’t cry; I don’t beg for mercy. Instead, I scream over the sound of the train whistle what will reach his ears like a whisper,
“Andre, Aujourd'hui, que nous dormons. Veuillez me rappeler quand vous êtes éveillé.”
“Andre, Today we sleep. Please, remember me when you are awake.”
It is only a second later that I melt into the pain of the bullet as it hits my chest.
Chapter 5
*
Dr. Mitchell
They released a new movie out of the “vault” last night so I went to the theater…by myself as usual. It was an older film that my parents went to see when I was a child.
I remember being angry with them, because they had my older sister Haley babysit me. I wanted to go so badly. I tried to prove to them that I was old enough--tried to convince them that I would sit still and not beg for more popcorn or spill the soda like last time.
I still remember my mother’s perfume and the way she always fixed her hair and dressed up for dates with Dad. You would have thought they were sixteen again. She leaned down and kissed my cheek and said “Not this time, Pax. One day you’ll be older and have a wife of your own. Then you can take her to see all the grown-up movies you want. But tonight, it’s my special night out with Dad. Be good for your sister.”
I promised myself then and there at nine years old that I was going to find a wife the next day so I could take her to see that movie before the theaters weren’t showing it anymore.
At recess I asked Trina if she would marry me so I could take her to the movies. She kicked sand in my face.
Little did I know that many years later I would ask Trina to marry me again. I had planned to play this movie for her just to prove how stubborn I was. I never like to leave anything unfinished. Any promise unfulfilled. Now all of them are gone, the movie was a letdown, and I have no more promises to keep.
I’m back at the clinic getting ready for the day. Esther’s hands are shaking as she brings me my coffee. She seems a little “off” again today.
“Esther”. I call her back over.
“Yes, Doctor Madison. Molten. Mor…”
“Mitchell. Esther, it’s Mitchell.” I try not to get frustrated. This is not the first time it’s happened.
“Esther, you seem to be having a rough morning. Why don’t you go to the lab and have one of the technicians take a look at you. I can manage my first patient on my own.”
“Ok.” She agrees. I think she has a desire to please me. She rarely tells me “no.” I guess that’s a good thing, but I wonder sometimes why she isn’t more opinionated.
Esther spins around and heads the other direction while I force myself into my office to prepare for the day.
First on my list of tasks is to get things ready for 6-103-13--Silas’ examination. I’m sure it’s nothing too serious. It usually never is, but still—why must a doctor’s morning always consist of fixing problems?
I’m able to pull up his chart on a monitor. The X-ray scanner is ready and I set out the equipment for vital signs. Then I sit down with my coffee and wait.
After a few moments, the receptionist buzzes him in, and I stand up to greet him.
“Hi Silas, I’m Doctor Paxton Mitchell. How are you feeling today?”
“All right”, he says.
He’s immediately uncomfortable. Wrinkling his nose like he’s going to sneeze, it moves his glasses up and down in a comical manner.
“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll take a look at you. Nothing too crazy—pretty standard stuff. Esther said you had some irregularities yesterday when you woke up. Can you tell me about them?”
“I’m not really sure what she’s talking about it. I mean, she told me I had irregularities too, but didn’t say what they were. She said my eyesight was bad.” He stares at the floor thinking for a few seconds and waiting for me to respond.
“Ok, well it looks like you were prescribed some glasses. So that’s good. Can you see better now?”
“Yes, much better. Thanks. By the way, you need to empty your sharps container. That last needle couldn’t fit all the way down.” He points to red box on the back wall. The needle in question looks like a tiny dot from this distance.
“Um…ok. I’ll have Esther take care of that then--later. Why don’t you tell me what happened when you saw the memories of Earth. Let’s start there.”
“Ok.” Silas breathes out deeply and tries to remember. He closes his eyes to try to see it all again. “I saw a bomb or something. A bunch of smoke. A building falling, a camera, a bright sun, and a crying baby with his mom…I think that was all.
“When Esther asked you what stood out, what did you say?”
“The camera. There was a camera reflected in the window of the building before it fell.”
“That’s an answer I haven’t heard before.” I tell him. I don’t want to let on that I’m shocked so I fake it as best I can. “Ok, Silas. I’m going to go make some notes and I’ll be right back.”
I try not to run out of the room, but I need some time to think—and quickly.
I’ve been a part of the Snowflake Program on Erimos since it began and I have never heard anyone answer that way? What would that even mean?
I can’t do anything but keep an eye on Silas. I may change my mind tomorrow, but for now I want to protect him from whatever this is that he’s discovered.
I hesitate at the door before I enter, but my mind is made up.
“Ok Silas, I looked at your records and it looks like what you actually meant to say was that you saw the building fall. So if anyone asks, that’s your answer. Got it?”
He furrows his brow because he knows what he saw and for a moment I see a determination in him that means he will fight back. But he just nods.
“Fine…do I get assigned somewhere else?” He asks.
“No.” I respond. “You will stay on kitchen staff—because of your eyesight.” I don’t want to move him too soon. It would make people ask questions.
“But I can see just fine now.” He protests.
“I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing I can do. Have a good day and please come back if anything else unusual occurs. I do want to help. Trust me.”
Silas shuffles out of my office in disappointment. I want to convey that I care, but I also don’t want him to know how shocking this is. I don’t think he could handle it or conceal it if he knew. For now this is best.
I’m not sure why it matters so much to me. Titu
s would probably just reset him if he knew what happened. There’s something about it all that’s so extraordinary, though. I feel like this would call for more than just a reset for Silas—something more drastic even. Termination. It’s the uncertainty that scares me.
I don’t have another appointment for a while and Esther will be gone for at least another half hour. I know what I need to do. I walk down the hall to the lab and use my key card to get into one of the rooms that’s unattended. I’m pretty sure this is where they are kept.
The memory gems are being charged in the station. Three are missing, must be in use. I pick one off the back row and put it in my pocket. Then, quickly, I sneak out and head back to my office, stopping for another cup of coffee on the way—so it looks like I had a reason to be near the lab.
I stare at my screen for a second. I’m not sure I want to watch this again. I’ve seen it once already when it proved to me the horrors of what happened on Earth and reminded me of how “lucky” I was to be here instead.
Trina always said I was better at moving on than facing reality. Maybe she was right. I thought it was a strength of mine—the ability to always focus on what’s in front of me instead of musing about the past and what might have been. I’ve been able to come to terms with the loss of my loved ones on Earth and with the exception of a few horrible recesses, I’ve adapted quite well. I watched the footage once before and swore to move on.
But I have to know what Silas is talking about.
I plug in the chip and the memory starts. The plume of smoke, the screaming crowds, the dust, the sun, the woman in front of the building. My family was down there. Trina was there. I don’t want to relive these images. Even though they aren’t my memories—they were someone’s.
I slow it down so that the building falls frame by frame—so steadily that you might think it wouldn’t crash at all—just float gently to the ground like a hot air balloon would.
I check every window of the building and haven’t seen anything unusual yet.
Wait. There it is. There’s the reflection. I freeze the memory and zoom in a little so I can get a clearer picture. There is no doubt in my mind about what I see. It is a reflection of a camera in the window. There for only a split second and then it’s gone.
I back up the memory and play it in full speed. Even though I know where to look this time, I can’t see it.
I don’t understand how Silas had the acuity to pick that up? And what does it mean?
Even worse—what if Titus finds out? I know I’m supposed to report these kinds of things to him. Titus has specifically stated that he wants to be informed of any major irregularities with the snowflakes, but I don’t know what he’ll do with Silas. And what if he blames Esther or me? Titus isn’t known for being kind or gentle.
Then like a window has been opened from a dark corridor allowing light to wash over my mind, I understand the gravity of this discovered truth--the presence of the camera can only mean one thing: the scenes of Earth were filmed and not remembered. But why?
Chapter 6
*
Genesis
The shot from the gun startles me from my sleep and I jump up in bed. The alarm is ringing. It sounds like a doorbell and just after it an automated woman’s voice comes over the speakers in my dorm. “Year six, day one hundred and four of the Snowflake Program.” I’m covered in sweat and my sheets stick to my legs. It takes a few moments for me to identify my surroundings.
I can’t stop replaying the dream in my mind. It didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like a memory—the first memory I have had where I remember someone’s face.
But, instead of helping me to understand, it left me more confused. What does it mean? Who was the man—Andre? And why was he calling me Elise?
I touch the patch on my arm and see that it is only 5:30 a.m., but when Ember pulls up the blackout shade over our window the blue sun looks as if it has been up for hours already.
The shower warms me and prepares me for the day ahead as much as anything could, I guess. My roommates and I
don’t speak to each other much. We’re just strangers that share a common space.
But maybe we were friends before. Maybe we lived on the same street, passed in the grocery store, worked in the same office. Perhaps we went out for coffee and discussed the latest celebrity gossip. I guess we’ll never know.
The anxiety can be felt in the room as we wonder what the first workday holds for each of us.
“Did any of you have a dream last night?” I try to ask casually while walking across the room.
“No.” Keira responds with a strange expression. I can see that I’m on the fast track to being the weirdo if I don’t use more tact.
“Oh.” I try to recover quickly. “I didn’t either. I just wondered.”
That didn’t help. Seriously, self, just keep your mouth shut.
My locker is still open from last night, and I take out the backpack I saw in there. It is white and has my number stamped across it. When I unzip the top I see sunscreen, sunglasses, a change of clothes, a water bottle, and a laminated note that says, “Following breakfast proceed to the lunch counter to obtain your allotment for the day.”
We take up our packs and head out the door. I carry my map with me—determined not to get lost. I’m not quite comfortable getting to the specter dock without it. I make a mental note to ask the first veteran I see what a “specter” is exactly. I can picture a car, an airplane, and a boat—common forms of transportation, but I have no memory of encountering the word specter before.
As my roommates and I walk to the cafeteria we try to make small talk, but it still seems awkward.
“Some of you don’t have backpacks.” I notice.
“Well, look at Genna. She’s got two things I don’t have… dreams and backpacks.” Ember mocks. I might be upset or humiliated, but when I look at her face, I know she’s just kidding.
“What’s in there anyway?” She’s unzipping it to look before she even waits for my answer.
“Just…stuff. I guess whatever they thought I would need. What did you get?”
“A note.” She says pulling a laminated card from her pocket. “It says to go to the militia training center after breakfast. I wonder if I need to eat a lot or if I’ll throw up my first day.”
Like everything Ember says, she sounds unconcerned either way. I haven’t had a chance to talk to some of my other roommates as much, but it seems like Ember is trying a little too hard to prove something, although she’s not unkind or mean.
Ever stoic, sarcastic, and unemotional, Ember’s just different from the rest. I wonder if she knows that the rest of us don’t really care if she’s superhuman. That she can be afraid too, and no one will think any less of her.
However, like us, she’s trying to figure this new life out. I will probably have multiple mental breakdowns today so I decide to cut Ember some slack.
When we reach the cafeteria, the line is moving in an organized fashion and surprisingly fast. I grab a tray and set my drink on it. Presuming it is extracted from green melon, my nose wrinkles at the green juice. It looks nasty, but after I taste it, I’m shocked by its wonderful flavor.
I move on to the bread station and the man behind the counter says “hello” to me like he knows me. Surprised, I look up and see the same man who was squinting at me in the atrium yesterday. Now, he is wearing glasses and it takes me a second to place him and recall his name.
“Silas? It’s Silas, right? Hi. Wow…you look different without all the beard and stuff. And you have glasses.”
He really looks about twenty years younger than he did yesterday. His short ashy blond-auburn hair is gelled a little and he even looks almost--attractive. After staring at him for longer than necessary, I ask for the pumpernickel rye.
I don’t ask for details about the bread, but Silas gives them to me anyway.
“The farming center in Pavana has been up and running for about eight years now and they even raise
chickens and cattle.” He informs me. “Most of the wheat comes from there now instead of Earth. That’s about the extent of my amazing knowledge since this is the first day on the job and…you know my brain has been wiped of all the yummy personal memories I’m sure I had.”
His sarcasm makes me laugh—I mean really laugh for the first time since I’ve been here. I say “goodbye”, but as I turn to leave, he stops me.
“Hey, wait. I don’t know your name.”
“It’s Genesis. You can call me Genna.” I smile and pause--this time I’m pretty sure it was flirtatious. Day one on the job is going pretty well so far.
“Genna, you have toothpaste on your shirt.” He says matter-of-factly. I look down to see if it’s true. Sure enough, hidden in between the arms of the navy snowflake is the faintest shade of light blue toothpaste. I can barely see it. “Thanks.” I tell him and move on.
I continue gathering food on my tray. My breakfast consists of some apple beans, eggs, bread, my green juice, and some kind of fig energy bar.
I sit with my friend Nikki. She saved me a seat as promised. Sitting rather close to her is a very strong looking man she introduces as Gavin—her husband. Gavin is in the militia and is from three years ago so he is a sort of veteran here. He is dressed just like the rest of us, but his pants are looser and he wears a belt with a gun on it and other gadgets from the militia. I guess I can expect Ember to be dressing like that soon.
“How are you adjusting?” He asks in a deep voice.
“Well, honestly, it’s all a little overwhelming. I mean--I have so many questions.”
None come to mind at the moment for some reason. “But I know that if I gave up my life back home for this then I thought it was a good thing…right? So I guess I just have to trust myself and stop second guessing.” It doesn’t take long to learn what everyone wants to hear.
“That’s a good attitude. I always like to hear what the new people have to say. After a while you figure out it doesn’t do any good to second guess anyway. All you need is a little love and you’ll like it here.” He winks as he pulls Nikki close and kisses her on the forehead. Is it cute or nauseating? I’m not sure.