“Dr. Remy, Action News received an internal memo just an hour ago from an anonymous source within Albertson Labs. According to this document, Albertson Labs is responsible for the genetic mutation that has infected plant and animal life worldwide and caused the food crisis, would you care to comment?”
A hot flash of panic washed over Remy as Dara pointed at the screen that had appeared in front of them, his eyes scanning over the familiar document that was pictured there. Relief filled his heart a moment later as he remembered: the author and intended recipient had never been included.
“I’m…I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Dara,” Remy managed to respond. “But I can assure you that Albertson Labs bears absolutely no responsibility in the food and water crisis―”
“Then this memo is fake?”
“Yes, Dara, it is.”
Albertson stepped forward, his body trembling with rage as he positioned himself in front of Remy. His unspoken threat was clear, and Dara scoffed before smiling sweetly.
“Thank you, Dr. Remy, for taking the time to meet with us today. Coming up, FEMA announces anticipated cuts to food and water allotments across the country, and the CDC has issued an update on the red flu epidemic within the resettlement camps. Details on these developing stories after the break.”
The light on the camera blinked off, and Albertson marched onto the stage.
“How dare you!” he hissed, his eyes bulging as he glared at Dara. “I’ll have your job for this!”
“Don’t be naïve, my producers knew exactly what I was going to say,” she answered, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her chair. “Your people gave us the memo, Peter, it’d be in your best interests to leave us with a comment.”
“I’ll tell you exactly what Remy did―it’s fake!” Albertson snarled. “How dare you accuse us of causing this! I gave you the story of the century and this is the thanks I get?”
Remy stood to his feet, moving to follow as Albertson stormed towards the door.
“People don’t care about curing cancer or fancy medicines anymore, Peter!” Dara called after him. “They care about having food! What good is being healthy if we all die of starvation?”
Albertson ignored her, practically running for the car. The drive back to the lab was spent in tense silence, but the moment they reached the safety of the lab’s main offices, he exploded.
“How the hell did they get that goddamn memo?” Albertson screamed, shaking his finger in Remy’s face. “Who did you send it to?”
“Just you!”
“That’s impossible, Lance, because I destroyed it!”
Remy threw up his hands in defeat.
“I don’t know, Peter! You had the only copy!”
“What about the file?”
“I hand-delivered it, dammit! Remember? There is no file!”
Albertson clenched his teeth.
“You had to have typed it somehow,” he seethed, biting each of his words off. “Where is the file, Lance?”
“I…I didn’t save it, if that’s what you mean! I typed it, printed off a copy, and―”
“WHERE?” Albertson roared, lunging forward and grabbing Remy by the throat.
“At home! It was on my personal tablet!”
“Before or after internet access was cut?”
“It was right before, but it doesn’t matter! My tablet was never connected to anything except the printer!”
Albertson screamed a curse and let go, clutching his head as he collapsed in a chair.
“This is a disaster, Lance. A complete and total clusterfu―”
“No, it isn’t,” Remy interrupted, his thoughts racing. “We can fix this.”
“There’s no fixing this, you’ve lost your mind! And your job―”
“Congresswoman Piotta.”
Albertson paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing.
“Your ex-wife? What about her?”
“I discussed my findings with her.”
“YOU WHAT?”
“She knows that we created the infection!” Remy gasped, his words running together as he spoke. “She came to me about it right before foreign communications were cut, I had no choice! Four countries were close to identifying our genetic tag in the disease less than six months after we released it into their crops, she needed me to manufacture documentation to prove that the mutation was caused by contaminated fertilizer! I know you heard about it―”
“The rumor about the origin of the infection, you’re telling me it came from her?”
Remy nodded.
“Yes! She’s the reason the government decided to isolate from international aid, she didn’t want to risk the information spreading so she introduced last year’s emergency quarantine proposal suggesting that the infection was a global attack―”
“And cut all international communications,” Albertson finished, his voice hushed as realization dawned on him. “The loss of internet and satellite access wasn’t a solar event.”
“She ordered me to keep it a secret, Peter. I couldn’t tell you, she said the only way she could offer the lab any kind of protection would be if the information didn’t go any further than us. She said we were trying to avoid a war, then when we went dark all the other countries followed suit and―”
“How the hell does that help us, Lance? What can she possibly do?”
“We’re still working on the crop repair program,” Remy began, his voice shaking as he tried to think. “She can cover our asses long enough for us to find a solution. The people already believe the source of the infection was foreign, she can reinforce that.”
Albertson sighed.
“The crop program is pointless, Remy. The infection wasn’t designed to be eliminated, that was the whole point of creating it in the first place. There’s nothing we can do now that it’s crossed over to our GMO products, you told me yourself that even your process can’t help fix it.”
“It was an unexpected development, I’ll admit, but the mutation has the greatest effect on GMO crops and livestock. We just need to propagate enough natural stock to start over―”
“Do you even hear yourself?” Albertson demanded. “Non-GMO stock can’t survive anymore! Temperatures are too high, the earth is a goddamn wasteland! Even insects are dying off!”
“We’ll think of something,” Remy assured him. “We have time.”
Albertson stood to his feet and crossed the room, falling silent as he stared out the window into the darkness below. The perimeter lights of the fence that surrounded the lab’s property blinked on and off in the distance, and for a moment, he could almost picture an angry mob gathered outside. They would be out for blood—his blood—if he didn’t do something fast. He sighed.
“Call Piotta, Remy, then get to the lab. We have work to do and a leak to kill.”
†‡†
DAY ONE
CHAPTER ONE
Amber glanced at the man sitting across the desk from her. His shoulder-length blonde hair fell across his face in a tangled mess, and he looked like he had just woken up.
“Name and number,” he growled. His voice was gruff, almost as if he was annoyed by her very presence, and she cleared her throat.
“Ordell, Amber. 487.”
The man began typing on the keyboard that sat in front of him, and Amber sighed as she looked around the small room she had been taken to. It was nearly empty save for a desk and two chairs, and light streamed in through a small window off to her left. A worn sign on the wall said ‘PROCESSING’ in red letters, and there were a few old black-and-white pictures of trees and the ocean. What surprised her the most about this room and what else she had seen of the facility so far was how clean everything was, and it made her feel self-conscious. She was filthy compared to the spotless walls and shining, tile floors.
The man paused, yawning as he looked up from his screen.
“Middle name?”
&
nbsp; “Talia.”
“Settlement of origin?”
“Settlement 109.”
He cocked his head, his brown eyes narrowing as he looked up at her.
“Settlement 109? The one that just broke through to the salt mine?”
Amber tried not to make a face; she was sick and tired of everyone mentioning the damn mine.
“That’s the one. And yes, I’m the one who broke through.”
He smiled, his demeanor instantly brightening as he leaned forward and extended his hand.
“I’m Paul Pearce, it’s nice to meet you!”
She stared at him for a moment before slowly returning the gesture.
“You too.”
“That was really something!” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Everyone’s talking about it, word is that it’s the most important thing that’s happened since the resource centers were built!”
Amber shrugged.
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“It saved all of us,” Paul told her, turning his attention back to the keyboard. “The resource centers were in a tough place, but things are supposed to get a lot better for us. We’ll be able to store extra power now that we have more salt for the batteries.”
“Glad to help,” she muttered.
He finished typing, then smiled as he stood up.
“Done,” he told her, moving out from behind the desk and stepping towards the door. “At least with this part, anyway, you’ll have to report to assessment tomorrow for a detailed workup.”
“What’s assessment?” Amber asked as she stood to leave
“Just physical tests and such,” Paul replied. “Height, weight, stuff like that. Brian will take you to your room now so you can get settled in. It was nice meeting you, Amber. Let me know if you need anything and I’ll do what I can to help.”
“Thanks,” she said, giving him a half smile as she walked out. It didn’t make sense to her how quickly his attitude had shifted; the attention made her uncomfortable, and she hoped it wasn’t going to be like this with everyone she met.
Brian was sitting on the floor waiting for her just outside the door, and he groaned as he pulled himself up.
“Come on,” he yawned, stretching his arms out. His blue eyes were stained hazy red from exhaustion, a strange contrast against his dark, dust-covered skin, and his thick, burnt-orange hair was matted in clumps from where he had been leaning against the wall. He sighed heavily, shuffling his feet as he walked towards the far end of the corridor.
Amber could hear faint voices as they approached the door that led back to the stairs and walkways, and the moment they stepped out, the sound became almost unbearable. In just the short time she had spent in the processing room, the entire facility had come alive with activity. Hundreds of people were navigating between the walkways and the stairs, their laughter and calls mingling together to echo out through the open space in the center of the massive wing. She felt instantly claustrophobic and out-of-place under the curious stares of everyone she passed; they were all dressed in clean, dark smocks that seemed tailored to fit, while she was still wearing her loose, dirt-stained clothing from the settlement.
She clutched her bag close, keeping her eyes fixed on her feet as she followed Brian down flight after flight of stairs. Bits of dirt fell from her clothes with each step she took, and she was embarrassed by the trail she knew she was leaving. She wondered who would have to clean it up.
After what seemed like forever, they finally reached the last level, almost twenty floors below the main level where she had first entered the facility.
“You’re in unit 2493,” Brian said, turning onto the walkway and glancing at the numbers affixed above each door he passed. He stopped at the end. “This is it. The lock is operated with a code, you’ll have to set it after you go in.”
He reached for the handle and pushed the door open, motioning for Amber to go inside. She swallowed hard and stepped in.
A light flickered on the moment her feet crossed the threshold, illuminating a surprisingly spacious room. The walls were painted a warm gray, and there was a bed in the corner covered with a thick, tan blanket. A waist-high countertop was embedded along one wall with a chair pushed in underneath it, forming a desk, and above it were a few empty shelves.
“There’s a change of clothes in there,” Brian told her, pointing at a narrow set of drawers in the corner. “You can put your things anywhere you want, but leave your old clothes in the basket in the bathroom. They’re going to recycle them.”
“Bathroom?” Amber asked as she set her bag down on the floor. He nodded, pointing at another door set in the middle of the back wall.
“Through there. You get two showers a week, fifteen minutes each. The water is set on a timer so don’t worry about trying to keep track, it’ll beep every five minutes once you turn it on so you’ll know how much time is left. You’re issued two towels and some soap, too. They come by and replace the towels at the end of the week, but you have to put in a request when you need more soap.”
She gave him a blank look, trying to make sense of what he was saying.
“Showers? Soap?”
Brian chuckled.
“You’ll figure it out, don’t worry,” he told her, turning to leave. “They’ll bring you something to eat soon, then you can go to sleep. There’s a flask for you in the bathroom, you can drink as much water as you want. Nothing’s really going to happen today since we just walked all night, just get some rest and try to relax until tomorrow. I’ll come by in the morning to take you to assessment.”
He opened the door, and a flash of panic raced through Amber’s veins at the thought of being left alone.
“What if I have questions?” she asked. “How do I find you?”
“I’m in Unit 2488,” Brian answered. “Just a few doors up from here. But I’m going to be sleeping, so if you knock, it better be something important!”
“Okay.”
Her voice came out as a quiet squeak, and he smiled reassuringly.
“You’ll be fine. Before long, you won’t even remember what it was like to live anywhere else.”
Amber managed to return the smile, trying to quiet the nervousness in her stomach.
“This is the lock box,” Brian told her, gesturing at a small keypad near the door handle as he stepped out. “After I leave, just key in whatever four-digit number you want to use. It doesn’t lock until you set the code, so you might want to do that now. Some of the others on this level like sneaking in and out of people’s rooms to play pranks.”
“What kind of pranks?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Hiding your clothes, starting the shower when you’re not here and using up your time, taking your pillow…stuff like that. Nothing too serious, but still annoying. It’s better to just keep the door locked.”
His voice told her that he was likely speaking from experience, and she quickly nodded.
“Thanks, Brian.”
“Welcome to Center 82, Amber. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He left, and she moved towards the door, staring down at the keypad beside it. She already knew what number she wanted to use, and she quickly pushed the buttons.
0-9-1-8.
A faint click sounded as the lock engaged, and she swallowed hard. That was the day Ayn had come into her life. It was only a little more than four months ago, but with how different she now was, it may as well have been a lifetime.
Amber bent down and opened her bag, carefully removing the fossilized rock Ayn had given her. She stared down at it, gently brushing her fingers across the delicate little wings imprinted on the stone. Her throat began to ache, and she moved to the desk, setting it on one of the shelves.
The astronomy book was the only other possession she had brought with her aside from her sleep clothes, and she took it out of her bag, tears filling her eyes as she gazed down at the cover. She should have left i
t behind, but as much as it hurt to look at it and remember, she couldn’t bear the thought of not having it with her. Ayn had touched those same pages, his eyes had read each sentence, and there was a piece of him forever imprinted on the invisible history of that book. Every mind throughout the years that had ever taken in those words belonged to a secret, shared existence, and having it with her made her feel as if a tiny part of him was still connected to her.
Amber sighed, quickly wiping her eyes. The thought would hopefully be comforting to her as time passed, but right now, her heart was too raw for that.
There was a small table beside her bed, and she set the book on it before stepping towards the set of drawers. She opened the first one. Two sets of the same dark clothing she had seen everyone else wearing were neatly folded inside; the material was thin compared to her settlement clothes, and it was strange to see how clean they looked.
A light-colored pair of pants and a matching sleeveless shirt were in the second drawer, and she gingerly reached out to touch them. The fabric was woven with fine plastic threads, creating a smooth, silky feel, and she pulled back when she noticed the rough skin of her hands catching on the surface. She knew these were her new sleep clothes, but she was almost afraid to put them on. The dirt on her skin would ruin them. Her eyes grew wide as she suddenly remembered what Brian had told her, and she quickly stepped towards the bathroom.
The light came on when she walked inside just like with the door to her room, and she gasped with surprise. There was a basin with two taps in the center of a white countertop, and on the floor beside it was a matching oval chair. Her mind raced; she remembered reading about these, and she clapped her hands over her mouth. It was a sink and a toilet, just like what people used to use. A blue flask sat on the counter beside the sink, and on the back wall was a small mirror. She cringed at the sight of her reflection, Ayn’s drawing once again flashing through her mind.
CENTER 82 (RATION) Page 2