by Kevin George
“I’m sorry, sir,” the survivalist said. “That’s an issue you’ll have to raise with—”
“Why can’t we return to the real world?” the man snapped.
Another survivalist stepped forward, stopping just in front of the crowd. “The real world isn’t the same as we once knew it. You’d be blind if you haven’t seen the changes that’ve already happened. . . that are still happening. If we’re going to survive what’s coming, this is our best chance.” He turned and pointed to the ISUs. “These are our best chances. What we’re talking about might seem intimidating right now, but—”
“I don’t care about your ra-ra speeches or the company line about this,” the man yelled, turning to the rest of the crowd. “You all know me. I’ve worked with you for a long time. I’ve been part of One Corp. for a long time and I believe in all of the good we’ve done. But this. . . this. . . is no longer our company, it’s no longer what we’ve all worked for. Were any of you told what we’d be doing here? Were any of you given the option to—”
The man was interrupted by a buzzing sound overhead. Horace glanced up and saw a drone hovering above. He quickly looked away, hoping that whoever was watching from the security room hadn’t spotted him. Luckily, the drone’s camera turned on the man arguing with the survivalist experts.
“This is what happens when we don’t remain quiet and do as we’re told?” the man yelled at the drone.
“It’s not like that,” one of the teachers said. “Once you’re living in the ISU village, you’ll see many drones hovering around. The Mountain and ISU-Ville will be separate entities, but those living inside will keep tabs on those living outside. Drones will be used primarily to communicate and ensure that peace and prosperity—”
“We know what they’re being used for,” the man yelled. “To spy on us, to watch our every move and make sure—”
A cart squealed to a stop beyond the group, a pair of security guards rushing toward the man. He immediately quieted and tried to blend in with the others, but the guards spotted him right away. The guards took hold of the man and the woman with him—Horace assumed it was his wife—and dragged the two away, calling out that the man would only be questioned. Horace wanted to watch but found himself turned away, hiding his face from the guards. By the time he looked back, the agitator was gone and the remaining crowd murmured quietly.
Horace turned and saw the girl staring at him. Too late, he looked away but had the sense that she’d recognized him. When he tried to find her again, his path was blocked by several people shifting in front of him.
“We’re truly sorry for that interruption,” one of the survivalists said. “Truth is, none of us knows why you fine people were selected as the first inhabitants of the village. You’re all trusted employees of One Corp. and are being rewarded with this opportunity to live on company lands. This life will not be easy, but the world beyond The Mountain and ISU-Ville is growing more dangerous by the day. With that said, if anyone else wishes to reject this opportunity, now might be a good time to speak up.”
People in the crowd remained silent, slowly looking at one another to see if anyone else would raise their hand. When nobody else objected, the team of survivalists smiled and waved them forward.
“If you’ll come behind the ISUs, we have several replica hydraulic systems set up. We’ll demonstrate a few of the more common repairs that’ll be needed.”
The group shifted forward but Horace slowly backed away. Though he had a sudden interest in learning all about the ISUs, his father would never allow him to leave The Mountain and live in the village. If he was ever planning to escape, he couldn’t allow himself to keep being distracted by—
Horace bumped into someone behind him and had an awful feeling that security found him. He braced himself to run when he heard a small, girlish voice.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
Horace turned and came face to face with the girl. He opened his mouth to speak, but his mind suddenly felt lost for words, especially as he stared into her dark blue eyes. The girl was smiling—making it even harder for Horace to think—but that didn’t last long before one of her eyebrows raised.
“Are you—”
“Yeah,” Horace snapped, sharper than he’d meant, not wanting her to speak his name aloud in case anyone else heard. “Sorry. . . but that’s me.”
The girl’s brow furrowed. “I was going to ask if you’re nervous about leaving your old life behind to live in the village.”
“Oh. . . I. . .” Horace stammered, tongue-tied again. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
“How couldn’t you think about it?” the girl asked. “Life is going to be so different now. Actually, I can’t even guess how life will be. But these ISUs. . . they’re cool and all, but they’re so much smaller than my old house. And I had to leave all my friends behind. . . and my room. . . and my school. Won’t you miss any of that?”
“I. . . I haven’t really thought about it,” Horace said.
She smiled, the sight causing Horace to momentarily forget to breathe.
“You don’t think much, do you?” she asked with a tiny laugh.
“There you are!” a worried voice said, wiping the smile from her face.
Horace turned to a middle-aged woman rushing toward them from the crowd. For a moment, he thought about his own mother, wondered how much she thought about him or if she ever tried making it back to The Mountain. He pushed those thoughts aside, not wanting to get teary-eyed in front of the girl. The girl frowned, her face turning red as her mother took her by the wrist.
“You need to learn this stuff, too, in case anything ever happens to me or your father,” the woman said. She looked to Horace. “Are your parents here?”
“Oh,” Horace said, lost for words again, this time for another reason. “Yes. My dad is.”
“Then you’d better come pay attention as well,” the woman said.
“Okay, I’ll be there in a minute,” Horace said.
The woman shrugged as she pulled her daughter along. “Come on, Carla.”
“Carla?” Horace asked.
“It’s my name,” the girl said. “Carla Corrigan. What’s yours?”
“Oh,” Horace said. “It’s. . . uhh. . . Marshall.”
“Nice to meet you. . . uhh. . . Marshall,” she said. “Maybe I’ll see you in the village later. . . if I’m allowed outside.”
“Later?” Horace asked.
Carla disappeared around the ISUs before she could explain. Horace turned to slip away but saw several massive military trucks driving in his direction. Afraid they might be driven by security, he hurried around the ISUs, slipping into the crowd during the hydraulics demonstration. He looked back to see several large One Corp. employees in jumpsuits approaching the group. Expecting them to be searching for him, he nearly stepped out to announce his presence when the large employees held up their hands to stop the survivalists.
“The rest of this will need to be shown on site,” one of the employees said. “The weather is worsening and if we wait any longer, we won’t be able to travel to the village today. Sector One has been cleared for energy production and Mr. Jonas wants us to proceed with the first stage. Can everyone please gather your belongings and follow me?”
Nervous chatter erupted from the group. Everyone followed the One Corp. employees around the ISUs, heading toward a small area beside the trio of large trucks, where dozens of suitcases and bags had been stored. He caught a glimpse of Carla and her parents grabbing their belongings and being shepherded toward the trucks. The drivers stood at the back of the trucks, each of them holding a list, marking off names as people boarded. One of the drivers suddenly looked up and locked eyes with Horace, who didn’t look away quickly enough.
Horace considered running but knew he’d only make himself a bigger target. Instead, he casually walked toward the truck parked at the end, where a larger number of people still waited to board. He started off in the back
of the line but quickly realized he’d have no chance if he was last and alone. Instead, he sidled beside a family of three, standing close enough to be a part of them but not so close as to arouse their suspicion. After the driver approved their boarding, Horace circled to the other side of the family and climbed onto the truck as the driver shifted his attention to the next people in line.
Benches ran along both sides of the truck, where several families already sat, suitcases by their feet. Most whispered nervously to one another, barely paying attention as Horace climbed over their belongings and headed toward the back, finally squeezing into a small space where he hoped to remain out of view. He nodded to the middle-aged man sitting next to him, a gesture that was returned before the man continued talking quietly to his young son.
With every person that boarded, Horace grew a bit more anxious about truly leaving The Mountain. He thought of the ISUs, wondered if he could sneak his way into one, wondered how long he’d be able to live there without being discovered. He also wondered if it would be easier to escape One Corp.’s lands once he was living outside of The Mountain. When he thought of the girl—Carla, he reminded himself with a smile—he wondered if he wanted to leave at all, a thought that brought plenty of shame with it.
Once the final person boarded, the driver called back that they’d be leaving momentarily. Horace breathed so quickly that he felt dizzy. The truck jolted to a start moments later and he felt the sensation of movement, the first time he’d ridden in a vehicle for months. The people around him craned their necks to see in his direction, but Horace realized they were looking through the windshield in the front of the truck. He looked out as well, watching the trucks in front of them wend between all of the covered objects. The light grew brighter as they approached the open hangar door, heavy snowfall unable to stop the intense whiteness from blinding Horace.
The first truck drove out of The Mountain, careening across the snowy ground. Within seconds, Horace lost sight of it ahead. A minute later, the second truck headed out and Horace’s driver inched forward, awaiting their turn. But before the truck headed out into the world, the echo of yelling caused the driver to stop and turn his head. The other passengers whispered nervously and craned their necks even farther, but nobody could see what had caused them to stop. But Horace sensed exactly what was happening. While the rest of the passengers leaned forward in their seats, Horace sat back and sighed. When the back of the truck opened moments later and two security guards appeared, he wasn’t surprised in the least.
“Mr. Jonas?” one of them asked.
Horace stood, knowing there was no point in resisting. The other passengers gawked as he stumbled past them, but Horace hung his head low, not even looking up when he reached the guards.
“Please come with us, sir.”
Horace climbed off of the truck and followed the guards toward the stairwell, only glancing back long enough to see the last truck disappear through the massive opening.
“I imagine your father won’t be pleased to hear of you sneaking off,” one of the guards said.
Horace snorted, looking down at his feet as they started up the stairs.
“Figured he wouldn’t even know I was gone.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Samuel took a deep breath, keeping his chest puffed slightly even as he exhaled. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt—not wanting to seem so pretentious—before re-buttoning it. You’re in charge of everything right now, he reminded himself. You have to look the role as much as play it. Still, he hesitated to reach for the door handle in front of him, despite knowing that everyone was inside, awaiting his arrival. Good, let them wait, let them wonder what I’m here to say.
Samuel looked down both ends of the hallway. Lush maroon carpeting covered the floors and sconces hung every few feet along the walls, which were adorned with paintings and assorted tapestries, some well-known works of art and others proudly displaying the One Corp. logo. It was only when Samuel looked more closely at the walls that he recognized the familiar granite of The Mountain. No other people were around and despite the distant, hollow sound of drilling (which, Samuel was fairly certain, he’d be hearing in his dreams long after construction finished), this level was quieter than the laboratories.
That quiet allowed him to hear a burst of laughter from the other side of the door, as well as the echo of one particularly familiar voice. Samuel frowned and hurried in, where he found Nigel Weller standing at the head of a large table, all twelve members of The Board turned in his direction. When Dr. Weller looked up and saw Samuel, the smile faded from his face and he nodded with respect.
“Mr. Jonas,” Dr. Weller said, taking a step back from the table, gesturing for Samuel to take his seat at the head. Members of The Board also quieted, some of them nodding to Samuel, others remaining stone-faced.
“I apologize for being late,” Samuel said, circling to the largest chair at the table, wondering if anyone but his father had ever sat on it. “I lost track of time helping with security drones. We’re paying extra close attention to our lands after nearly being infiltrated by an intruder. I also wanted to check on the first wave of One Corp. employees being relocated to the village of ISUs.”
“Speaking of which,” said one of The Board members after clearing his throat. “How has the long-term viability of ISU-Ville been affected by recent developments in solar power production? Have predictions changed for how long potential villagers will survive in worsening weather conditions?”
The Board member—Martin LeRoque—did not flinch under Samuel’s glare, nor did any of the others as Samuel looked from face to face. He knew all of their names and all of their stories, as well as many of the secrets they’d want to keep hidden. Whenever Samuel’s father ran the meeting, The Board remained mostly quiet, waiting until the end of Charles’s soliloquies before asking a few questions, some of which Charles answered, some of which he ignored. Samuel couldn’t help but be annoyed that their questions began before he officially started the meeting. He glanced at Weller, hoping for some backup, but the doctor merely shrugged.
“Our solar people are tracking the energy shortages so we can come up with other strategies to maximize our resources,” Samuel said.
“That’s not what Martin asked,” said another Board member, Betty Van Horn. She shot Samuel with a withering glare, as if he were no more than a lowly One Corp. employee. “He asked if we need to change our expectations based on—”
“I know what he asked,” Samuel said, shifting forward in his seat, placing both of his hands on the table.
“There’s no need to turn this discussion adversarial,” Betty said, her tone becoming light and sweet despite the raise-lipped sneer she gave him.
Samuel exhaled slowly, looking toward the other Board members staring daggers into him. In that moment, he realized he hadn’t looked into them nearly enough. He wanted to snap at them—he couldn’t imagine his father handling their insolence in a calm manner—but the collar of his shirt suddenly felt tighter and he had trouble taking a deep breath. All he wanted to do was run away from this room. . . this large table. . . these people. . . get back to the security room and his drones. . .
“The ISUs might not last as long as we planned,” Samuel said, choking out the words. He told himself to remain composed, but his right hand ended up pulling at his collar, allowing him to finally breathe again.
“Unacceptable,” Martin LeRoque said. “Years have been spent finalizing these plans and the day you begin to move our people—One Corp. employees, people whose lives you are responsible for—you finally decide to admit that your plans are defective?”
“They weren’t my plans,” Samuel said, looking from accusing face to accusing face. “We put our top experts to work on each part of—”
“Experts that you and your father are in charge of overseeing,” Betty Van Horn added.
“But my father. . . and I. . . have been discussing a radical idea that might serve several purposes,” Samu
el said.
Martin LeRoque leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. “Does it have anything to do with the volcano?”
Samuel opened his mouth, intent on asking how Martin knew about that, but he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing his surprise. Instead, he nodded once before turning his attention to the quieter Board members.
“If the solar panels are unable to generate the power needed for the ISUs and The Mountain, we could tap into the dormant, underground volcano and implement steam-based generators to produce the energy we’d need,” Samuel said.
“With the bulk of that energy coming here, of course,” Martin said.
“This type of project would take years to complete, but it wouldn’t just help resolve our issues with energy production,” Samuel said. “My father. . . we have envisioned turning this production station into a massive underground bunker, which could also be used for extra storage. As the weather worsens, it’ll be harder for construction workers to commute to our lands. An underground bunker could house them and allow more people the chance to survive.”
“So this hole in the ground will become like a city below? Where we can store all of our junk?” Martin asked.
Betty chuckled, as did a few other members of The Board. But it was the loudest laughter—coming behind Samuel—that disturbed him most of all. He turned to Dr. Weller, who nodded and smiled at Martin.
“The employees selected for ISU-Ville helped make One Corp. the juggernaut it’s become through the years,” Samuel said, lowering his eyebrows. “But none of this. . .”—he gestured to the room and The Mountain beyond it—“. . . would’ve been possible without the hard work of these construction workers. I don’t know how long such a bunker could last, but the more people survive, the better off humankind will be. Despite our best efforts, there’s a chance the weather will become too harsh for the village to last. In that case, we’ll need somewhere to house the villagers.”
“As long as it’s not in The Mountain,” Betty said.