“They killed him because I was hungry. There was no way to get extra Food Substance – I couldn’t trade for it; I couldn’t beg enough for it. They killed him because I was hungry and I ate more than they wanted me to.
“When they dragged his body out of the room, they said You’d better clean that up. They just laughed and laughed. He wasn’t even a person to them. I wasn’t a person.
“Four hours later, our baby came. He wasn’t due for another few weeks, but I went into labor right after Barus died. He was tiny. It was bittersweet, because every time I looked at his face I thought of his father. I named him Barus as well, but couldn’t ever bring myself to call him that, so everyone knew him as Bear.
“Nothing changed, though. I delivered Bear and had to go to an assignment shift six hours later. I didn’t want to keep taking Food Substance, so I went back to my normal food allotment after Barus was murdered. I was hungry the entire time I was nursing my son. He would be passed around the Midlet while I was on a shift, and I was terrified every day that something would happen to him while I was working. But I was too afraid to miss a shift, knowing I could be killed for it and Bear would no longer have his father or his mother.”
She broke into uncontrollable sobs after she had gotten the whole story out. The room was silent except for the sounds she was making, and she fought to contain herself, expecting to see Quilen laughing when she finally quieted down.
But when she was quiet, he was not laughing. Instead, she heard another set of sobs.
She looked up, surprised, seeing Quilen wiping his own red eyes and nose. Her shock was sobering, and she ceased crying all together. He continued.
She sat for a moment, watching him as he felt the weight of her past. She was relieved that he understood rather than dismissed it, but she was also overjoyed that he felt her pain.
“I’m so sorry,” he finally squeaked out.
Even in that moment, Reena still felt a hint of rage. She thought about the control officers who killed her husband, and the orders they received.
“You should be,” she said coldly.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Talitha was shaking as they stepped through the chapel.
They had only one more night until their wedding, and the Whitfields were joined by Brother Philip and Doc Thorton to walk through what the ceremony would entail. It was not common to have such a rehearsal, but they felt it would be best for Talitha to know exactly what would happen.
She was incredibly nervous, assuming that the wedding would involve some sort of painful or embarrassing ritual. Not because of anything she knew, but rather because so much of her transitional time on the surface had been riddled with pain or embarrassment.
“This is all there is to it,” Jonah said reassuringly, grabbing one of her shaking hands and holding it close to himself. “Doc Thorton will walk you up there to me, and Brother Philip will do all of the talking. He’ll tie our hands together with the fabric – loosely, of course. You only have to say I do.”
“I know,” she responded. “But I guess I’m afraid of even doing that wrong. Or fainting before we make it up to the front of the chapel.”
Jonah smiled.
“As long as we’re married at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter what happens,” he said. “I’m still okay if you want to just do it right now, and we can forget about the stress that comes with it.”
“No,” she said, only halfway convincingly. “This is how you do it on the surface, and this is my town now. I’m not a citizen of the Facility anymore, and I want to do things exactly as if I were born here.”
“Some people who were born here do get married with just Brother Philip,” he said, still trying to give her the option.
“I promise,” she said. “I’d rather let the whole town know that we’re married than make it some secret. After everything that everyone has done for me, I guess they’re all kind of family. Kind of.”
“Whatever you want,” Jonah said, pulling her in to hug her. “Just let me know if you change your mind. But you don’t have to worry about our marriage being a secret, because I’m ready to run around on horseback screaming about it.”
“Okay,” Talitha said, laughing. “But that might be a little more embarrassing than just having everyone watch me say I do.”
.- -.-. -
Reena stood against a wall with several video recorders pointed at her. Every angle was being captured so that her death would be clearly repeated on the public wall tiles in the Midlet. It was decided that, in order to make the execution more theatrical, she would be killed by firing squad.
It took a great deal of research to find out that the sort of execution existed in the past, but Wexley, one of Quilen’s subcommittee members, discovered it. He pored through historical documents and videos on Gisk’s command, delivering several options to Quilen. He presented procedures ranging from electrocution – which didn’t seem too different from death by Stunner – to hanging, to even crucifixion. Wexley felt that crucifixion would be most fitting, since he was quite sure that it was somehow affiliated with the religion that ran throughout the Midlet.
However, Quilen chose the option that seemed to be the least painful and over the quickest. He also felt that it might tie the execution back to Jonah, considering crude bullets were found just before the whole ordeal started – in case any of the laborers actually remembered that. He wasn’t excited about killing Reena – she seemed far more human than even he felt – but he wanted to get the whole thing over with. He hoped that adding the connection to Jonah would neatly tie up loose ends and send the whole situation on its way.
They had to synthesize guns and bullets, as there were none in the Facility, and again had to do more research in order to do so. They found plans for automatic rifles in the earliest records on the Central Facility Computer, and it only took a few hours before they were tested and ready. The control officers who tested them had so much fun spraying bullets that they were already requesting their superiors consider issuing the weapons in addition to their Stunners.
The unit had been set up to look like a laborer sleeping unit, as if the execution were happening among the people that they were trying to silence. The video feeds would only be sent through the Midlet, as most citizens of the Upper Levels didn’t even realize that anything out of the ordinary was going on.
The citizens knew something was strange, however, because their Food Substance was flowing much slower now. The liquid that was dispensed for their showers had less pressure than they desired, and the air temperature in the entire sector was seventy-nine degrees Fahrenheit – far outside of their acceptable limits.
The complaints were few, out of fear of being reprimanded by the Diplomacy and Sensitivity Committee. However, many of them contacted their superiors to get out of their assignment shifts, and instead opted to remain in their family units wearing little clothing. Their large bodies were sweating profusely, and many of them were laying around sucking on fluid tubes, feeling sorry for themselves. The fluid tubes, especially with the higher demand than normal, were also flowing far slower than they were used to.
Unbeknownst to most citizens, the reason for all of these inconveniences was because of the war that was brewing underneath their feet.
When the countdown alert that had been looping in the Midlet hit zero and stopped playing, all of the laborers braced themselves. They stood at the ready for several hours, staring at the few entrances that they had not welded shut. Hokmah and several of the original thirteen – now only eleven – walked around the halls, telling them to remain prepared to fight, for they never knew when the doors might burst open.
But Hokmah had a feeling that they would not. Very few of them knew that Reena had disappeared, and the more that he thought about it, the more he realized something was not as it should be. He considered that Yidel was also with the guards when they escaped, and began to assume the worst about his loyalty.
In his head, over and over, he replayed the
scene in which Yidel asked to speak with Reena, hoping to pick up some clue about Yidel’s nervousness that would confirm his suspicion. He wasn’t sure, but he could not shake the idea that Yidel had made a deal with the guards. If that were the case, he hoped that at least Yidel’s intentions were to protect the Midlet, and not to simply gain something for himself.
He had prepared for two situations. In one scenario, the control officers would flow through the halls of the Midlet, killing every laborer they could. This was the most immediate, so Hokmah kept everyone focused on that threat. If the men and women were prepared for a battle, then they would be far better off even if it never came. They could allow themselves to rest only after it was over.
The laborers throughout the halls were nervous – some crying, most at least shaking and fidgeting. Images of a bloody fight obviously raced through their heads, but no one knew what to expect. The only battles they had seen were ones that completely one-sided. Control officers would often break in and beat laborers, usually seemingly random encounters, and until a few days ago no one had ever fought back with true force.
There were the occasional individuals who would flail on an officer who was beating their friend or family member, but they wouldn’t do much damage before they were tossed to the side or beaten themselves. Never before had the laborers felt like they were engaged in a conflict where there was a possibility of winning. They didn’t have confidence, but they did at least have hope.
The second scenario that Hokmah had prepared for was that Reena had been taken and would be executed. The only redeeming factor in this would be that they had extra time. In all of his years, the Leaders had never reacted immediately when it came to public death. They had always drawn things out in order to stir up fear and anticipation. It was cruel, but Hokmah knew it would at least give them a day or two to respond.
And it was the second scenario that was confirmed.
After the men and women of the Midlet Rebellion sat at the ready for hours, an alert washed across every one of their public wall tiles. The face of Quilen Coomy appeared, thanking the laborers for their cooperation.
He described the scene of how Reena was delivered by her own people – someone who understood the weight of the situation and who realized that it was far better for her to die than for all of them to lose their lives. He said nothing about who it was that surrendered her to them, or about where they were at that time, but Hokmah felt that he knew at least part of that information. He also knew that even the truth they heard from the Leaders was always riddled with lies, so he had to be skeptical of even his own ideas about what happened.
Her execution was set for twenty-four hours after the announcement, and he said there would be no battle as long as no more control officers were harmed. They were urged to return to their assignment shifts that day, but would be given leniency if they decided to refrain from doing so. Quilen said it was an act of good faith – to show that the Leaders would show mercy on them if they agreed to peaceable resolution.
He also announced that Reena would be given a chance to speak before her execution, and that it was very important for all of them to hear her last words. Before the message, Hokmah assumed that might be the case, but he didn’t know if it truly would be her speaking, or if they had already been working on editing videos of her. Either way, he knew that her speech would be something that they could not trust.
The laborers started sabotaging the Facility almost immediately after the message had aired. A couple of hours before the battle was set to begin, Hokmah told several groups to sneak into their normal purpose assignments and wait. He said that if such an alert appeared on the wall tiles in those units, then as soon as it ended they would need to get to work. If the battle really did occur, then they were to work at double the pace.
The groups went about their daily assignments, but in a manner opposite of their typical fashion. Instead of keeping tanks primed in fluid pumps, they unscrewed the pressure release valves. Instead of cleaning the Food Substance lines of any obstruction, they covered them with thick pastes that would not pass through the filters. Instead of keeping the geothermal energy regulators at optimal levels, they forced them to overheat.
“Don’t destroy these things,” Hokmah had warned. “Our destination is the surface, but we must also prepare to survive down here for an unknown amount of time. If we break any of these machines completely, then all of the Midlet might be broken with them.”
They knew that their fellow laborers were strong enough to endure the discomfort they were forcing the Facility into. They were used to standing in line for a meal, and getting far less than they needed. They were used to cold showers and hot living conditions. If these things happened on a grander scale, but it was for the purpose of getting them out, then they would happily tolerate it.
On the other hand, they knew a little about the citizens of the Upper Levels. If Food Substance production slowed, it was deemed an emergency and laborers would be harshly punished. If temperatures of air or fluid were only slightly altered, the consequence would again fall to the people of the Midlet.
Very few of the laborers had walked in a family unit in the Upper Levels, but those whose purpose assignments were to clean them would return telling stories. They would talk of Food Substance mounded on plates, intended to be thrown away. They would describe the tiles that would cover almost every surface – all walls, ceilings, desks and tables – and how those tiles could display almost anything one desired. They would talk of coming upon a napping citizen who decided not to check into their purpose assignment that day, simply because they were “a little tired.”
These laborers were not envied, even though their jobs weren’t seen to be as difficult as some. Instead, they were seen as brave. If any of them ever gave into the temptation to take from a family unit, or to use their shower or sanitation unit for anything other than cleaning it, then they would quickly feel the pain of punishment. It was clear that everything they did while on the Upper Levels was recorded on a video feed, and that they definitely would be caught. If not immediately, then eventually. And while the citizens of the Upper Levels despised the laborers, they were more than disgusted by the thought of a laborer who felt as if they were good enough to partake in their own amenities.
The only laborers who could clean family units were the most honest and trustworthy among them. They had the willpower to resist all temptation, even when they were starving and dirty, knowing that every single one of their actions could hold dangerous consequences. They would indeed tell stories of the Upper Levels, but otherwise they would refrain from much social interaction. They were always afraid they were being watched.
With this information, Hokmah and the groups he sent knew that slight discomfort to the laborers meant utter despair to the citizens of the Upper Levels. They knew it wasn’t a final solution, but that it would possibly give them bargaining power in order to clear a path for their exit to the surface.
Twenty-four hours after Quilen’s message aired and the sabotages started, the video feeds started streaming through the Midlet. Reena stood alone on camera, with four control officers holding rifles just outside of the picture. Quilen stood behind the cameras, glancing at Reena and at a video monitor that displayed what the people in the Midlet were seeing. Gisk sat next to him, watching a separate monitor that showed the same scene.
Quilen nervously pointed at Reena to begin speaking.
“Men and women of the Midlet,” she began, her voice strong. Her unflinching eyes looked past the cameras, past the firearms ready to unleash upon her, and rested on Quilen.
The two of them had long conversations after she told him about her husband. He asked more questions of what it was like for her people, and seemed genuine when he described changes he would like to make. Finally, several hours into these talks, he asked her if she would say a few pre-planned words asking for the laborers to stop sabotaging the Facility. If she did, he would slowly implement changes for h
er people.
He promised her that Food Substance would flow more freely. He promised that violence towards the laborers would lessen, and that they would determine better ways to punish those who broke regulations. He said he would work to soften the regulations, so something as simple as a pregnant woman eating more than her allotment of food would no longer be a cause for the extreme punishment she and her husband faced.
She knew that the things he promised were lofty, and that they probably wouldn’t happen the way he said. But she also saw that he was genuine.
And she never told him about what she knew of the surface. While she believed that Quilen was changing, she still didn’t trust him. She didn’t want him to know that her people would find the earliest opportunity to retreat to the surface. She felt that if she played along with his requests, she was giving her people the time they needed to trickle out through the hatches over time. If she sacrificed herself in return for less scrutiny on the laborers, then her death was worth it.
She blinked her eyes for a moment and started again.
“Men and women of the Midlet. I wish I could be there with you now in person, but I have been called to a greater task.”
Gisk furrowed his brow, looking at the pre-written speech as it ran on tiles in front of Reena and on the monitor. Her words didn’t match up. Before Gisk could make a scene, Quilen put a hand on his shoulder. Quilen’s other hand rose with his finger extended, motioning for Gisk to wait.
“Give her a moment,” Quilen whispered. “She hasn’t done anything wrong yet.”
Gisk frowned, making it obvious that he disapproved of this approach.
Reena continued, this time reading the pre-determined speech. Quilen let out his breath.
“I am being executed today by the Leaders of the Facility for multiple offenses. My first offense is that I gathered fellow laborers together for purposes against the Leaders’ wishes. We have the freedom to gather, but my purposes were exposed as nefarious.
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