CENTER 82 (RATION)

by Christina J Thompson

  “Can I help you?” the woman asked.

  “I need to speak with―”

  “He’s not here.”

  Andreas clenched her fists.

  “Then where is he?”

  “Somewhere between here and Center 81,” the lab assistant replied. “He’s due back tonight.”

  Andreas cocked her head, eyeing the woman for a moment.

  “I need to get something from the lab. It will only take a few minutes.”

  “No one outside Lab Four’s personnel list is permitted inside,” the woman answered curtly. “Dr. Trent’s orders. He’ll be here first thing in the morning, you can speak with him then.”

  The door slammed shut, and Andreas fought the urge to scream. She muttered under her breath as she headed back to the stairs, but instead of returning to her lab, she continued down to the residential levels. She stopped when she reached her room, giving a cautious look around before opening her door and stepping inside.

  Pages upon pages of notes covered nearly every inch of the walls and floor, each one bearing the heading ‘PROJECT NINE’. The board had confiscated all of David’s work after resolving his project, but they didn’t know that he had given her copies a week before his removal. Unfortunately, the material she had in her possession ended several days before the breakthrough he had claimed to make, and the board had destroyed the rest.

  Despite this, Andreas still held out hope that she would find the answer to what he had discovered hidden somewhere amongst the countless pages, but trying to make sense of his work was difficult. David had been one of the last natural-born researchers in the country; his grandparents were part of the original group of scientists that founded the ration program, and unlike her and the rest of her colleagues, his age hadn’t been accelerated under the researcher development program. This gave him the benefit of a true lifetime of scientific experience, but more importantly, it also meant that his knowledge hadn’t been constrained to the ration program’s manuals.

  Upon the successful creation of the first set of rations, guidebooks that detailed the process were developed and distributed to resource centers across the country. It became clear early on that natural reproduction among the scientists couldn’t be relied on for creating future generations intelligent enough to follow the complex instructions, and because of this, the researcher development program was implemented and a condensed study curriculum was designed. The curriculum was limited only to the knowledge necessary for creating new rations and maintaining the population; scientific pursuit outside the scope of the guidebooks was deemed a waste of time and resources, but the benefit of this limitation was that researchers who passed their qualifying exams were ready for lab placement within five years from incubation.

  While Andreas’ short, accelerated time as a researcher was focused only on following the ration program’s manuals, David’s years of experience had been much broader—according to him, his first introduction to a lab happened when he was only four years old, and he started conducting his own simple experiments before his ninth birthday. He was thirty-eight when the facility voted to remove him, and by then, he had learned material far beyond what Andreas could ever dream of. She could easily replicate the procedures detailed in the instruction manuals, but anything outside of that was near impossible.

  Project Nine was a perfect example of this, and most of the information contained in David’s notes covered topics that fell into the category of impossible. Still, Andreas wasn’t willing to give up just yet, and she sighed as she grabbed her pillow from her bed. The pages that lay at her feet rustled as she dropped it on the floor and sat down, using it as a cushion as she leaned over to retrieve her notebook from the edge of her bedside table. She opened the cover and reached for the first stack of notes.

  †‡†

  CHAPTER SIX

  Amber whimpered in pain as she opened her eyes, glancing around the room. The inside of her body ached in a strange, unfamiliar way, and her head was throbbing. She tried to move but her arms and legs refused to obey, and she felt panic flood through her veins.

  “Help…help me,” she managed to call out, her tongue thick with dryness. “Help me!”

  An older man wearing a labcoat walked into the room.

  “You’re finally awake,” he said, smiling down at her before looking at the monitors beside her bed. “You had us a little worried there for a while.”

  “I can’t…can’t move.”

  “It’s just the medication,” he told her. “It’s nothing to be concerned about, you’ll regain full use of your muscles once it wears off.”

  Amber swallowed hard, grimacing as a wave of agony passed through her abdomen.

  “What did you do to me?”

  “We took some samples, that’s all.”

  “Why does it hurt so much? The doctor said it wouldn’t hurt.”

  “There was a very slight complication during follicle retrieval,” the man said. “Not to worry, though, everything is fine, and we have your test results back. You’re a perfect candidate for our researcher breeding program.”

  Amber barely heard him; she didn’t care about the damn test results, she cared about being paralyzed.

  “How long until I can move?”

  “It should be any second now,” he said, pressing a button on a machine next to her bed. There was a bag of fluid hanging above her, and he began adjusting the dials. “I just increased the medication that should help you come out of the anesthesia, just give it a minute.”

  Amber closed her eyes, taking a deep breath against the nausea that welled up in her throat. As the moments passed, she felt tingling warmth begin to flood through her legs, starting in her feet and quickly moving up into her thighs. Her toes began to twitch, and she sighed with relief as she raised her arm.

  The man smiled.

  “See? You’re fine.”

  The throbbing in her head seemed to be coming from the base of her neck, and she reached up, feeling a bandage covering a bare spot in her hair. Her eyes grew wide.

  “What did you do to me?”

  “One of the tissue samples we took was of brain matter,” he told her quickly. “We needed to ensure that your cells were healthy.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “You cut out a piece of my brain?”

  “No, of course not!” he chuckled, rolling his eyes in amusement. “We used a needle, and just on the surface. It’s completely harmless, Amber, there’s nothing to worry―”

  “Who are you?” she interrupted. “Where’s Dr. Andreas?”

  “I’m Josiah, one of the assistants. Dr. Andreas is busy right now, she assigned me to get you ready to return to your room.”

  He pulled out a vial of red liquid, grabbing a syringe from a drawer under the monitors and filling it.

  “Is that serum?” Amber asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Yes it is,” he told her as he injected it into the tubing in her arm. “It’s not often that someone from the settlements knows it, have you had it before?”

  She nodded, watching as the crimson fluid flowed down until it reached her vein, then she inhaled sharply, cursing under her breath.

  “It burns! It’s not supposed to burn!”

  “It’s because this one is an intravenous dose, just wait. I promise, it only hurts for a second.”

  The pain began to fade, and Amber felt her body relax. Josiah glanced at the monitors again.

  “I think you’re just about done here,” he said, turning to leave. “I’ll give it a few more minutes, but the serum is the last step of the process. I’ll call someone to walk you back to your room.”

  She swallowed hard, watching him leave. She felt violated; there was a dull ache between her legs, and the insides of her thighs were sticking to each other. She reached down then inspected her hand; her fingers were tinged red. Whatever they had done had made her bleed, and she did her best not to start crying. Sh
e hated this place, and she wished she had never applied to begin with.

  Josiah came back a few minutes later and turned the monitors off.

  “Your escort has been Brian Johnson, right?” he asked, removing the tube from her arm. She nodded. “That’s what I thought. He should be here soon, I’m going to have him help you back. The serum will work within the next few hours, but until then, you may notice some cramping and bleeding. I’m sending you back to your room with a few supplies until the bleeding resolves.”

  He extended his hand to help her up. She took it, gasping in pain as her stomach muscles tightened.

  “Your clothes are over there,” Josiah said, pointing at a chair in the corner of the room. “Go ahead and get changed, then I’ll come get you.”

  Amber glanced at her legs as a trickle of blood ran down her thigh. Josiah followed her gaze, quickly stepping towards a cabinet and retrieving a towel.

  “Use this to clean yourself off,” he told her, handing it over. “I’ll put in an order for an extra shower today. What room are you in?”

  Her mind went blank for a moment, and she stared down at the towel, trying to remember.

  “Ummm…2483. I mean, 2493.”

  “I’ll give you some privacy,” he said, making a note on the chart beside the door before stepping out of the room.

  Amber limped towards the sink, dampening the towel and using it to wipe the blood off her legs. She felt lightheaded, and she rested her hands on the counter, trying to keep from falling over. Her stomach churned; she held her breath for a moment, forcing herself to focus before moving to get dressed.

  When Josiah returned, he had Brian with him.

  “Dr. Andreas will want to follow up with you within the next two days,” Josiah told her as she shuffled towards the door. “Here’s a bag with some gauze, you shouldn’t need much. Come back if the bleeding doesn’t stop by tonight.”

  “Thanks,” Amber muttered, grabbing the bag from him. She took Brian’s arm and began walking down the hall. She was not looking forward to the stairs.

  “Are you okay?” Brian asked when they reached the walkway. The question made her throat instantly begin to ache with misery; no, she was not okay, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

  “I will be,” Amber answered after a long moment, slowly lifting her feet as she walked down the steps.

  “And your results?” Brian prodded. “What did they say?”

  “I’m going to be part of the researcher breeding program,” she told him. “They said everything was fine.”

  “Good for you!”

  The enthusiasm in his voice seemed a bit more pronounced than it should have been, and she shot him a glance, wondering for a moment if he was being sarcastic. He looked genuine—almost relieved, in an odd way—and she shrugged dismissively.

  “I guess.”

  Another wave of pain stabbed through her stomach, and she couldn’t help letting out a quiet gasp. Brian steadied her, holding tight to her arm.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll heal fast,” he promised. “I know I did.”

  “I’m pretty sure they didn’t stab your insides the way they did mine,” Amber said, rolling her eyes.

  He grimaced.

  “Maybe not with the same method, but yes, they did.”

  The look on his face told her that he was not fond of the memory, and she resisted the urge to ask for more details. She sighed.

  “So what happens next? No one explained it to me, they just said that I’m a good fit for the program.”

  Brian shrugged, helping her to the next flight of stairs.

  “I’m not sure how it works for the girls, no one really talks about it. For men, the next step is injections. I think it’ll be the same for you.”

  Amber scowled.

  “That Andreas doctor told me that it wasn’t going to hurt.”

  “They always say that.”

  She eyed him, her thoughts shifting as she studied his face.

  “How old are you, Brian?”

  He glanced at her in surprise.

  “Twenty-three. Why?”

  “You…you look older.”

  A shadow seemed to wash over his expression, and his shoulders sagged.

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “I didn’t mean anything bad,” she said quickly. “I just―”

  “It’s okay, I know. Someone my age isn’t supposed to have wrinkles and loose teeth.”

  Amber gestured at the people they passed.

  “They all look the same as you, though, everyone does. Except me, I feel like a little kid.”

  “Are you complaining?” Brian asked, eyeing her. She shook her head.

  “No, I’m just curious, I guess. It’s one of the first things I noticed.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll fit in soon enough,” he told her as they reached the last level. “You’ll look older in a few months, too. It has to do with the stuff they give us, it makes us age a bit faster than normal.”

  “Why?”

  He chuckled.

  “You’re asking the wrong person, Amber. Just be patient, they’ll explain most of this when you report to the lab for the first time.”

  “When will that be?”

  “The day after tomorrow,” he answered. “You have to go through orientation first, that happens in the morning.”

  “If I can even make it,” she groaned, seeing her door up ahead. “Everything hurts.”

  “You’ll wake up feeling fine.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “You will,” Brian reassured her, letting go of her hand as he turned to leave. “I have to get to work, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Amber sighed, quickly pressing the buttons on the door lock and going into her room. The tears she had managed to hold back spilled over the moment the door closed behind her, and she dropped the bag she had been given, collapsing onto her bed and burying her face in her pillow.

  “I miss you, Ayn,” she whispered, her heart wrenching. She had hoped that the resource center would be a distraction from the loss, but instead, everything about it so far had just made it that much more obvious that he was gone. Part of her almost wanted to go home; as much as she had hated the settlement, the idea of being there was so much more appealing that being here. At least home was familiar and didn’t have needles.

  She curled up beneath her blanket, doing her best to ignore the waves of pain that radiated through her abdomen. The plans she and Ayn had made had given her hope for something more, but now, there was nothing left. She was trapped here, utterly at the mercy of these people, and the realization was almost unbearable.

  †‡†

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  John paused in his work, glancing up at the sun as he tried to gauge the time. It was late in the day, and as he began hauling up another load of salt, he saw Richard approaching.

  “You’re a fast worker,” Richard mused, watching as John quickly lifted the bucket free of the mine’s opening. “Reminds me of Amber.”

  “Just trying to get the job done,” John answered.

  “Your ration is doing well, too. This is one of the best days I’ve had so far, I should have hired you sooner.”

  John didn’t respond, and Richard chuckled as he knelt down beside the mine’s opening. He cupped his hands to his mouth.

  “Quitting time!” he shouted, his voice echoing out into the darkness below. The workers called back in acknowledgment, and Richard turned to John.

  “Grab one of those blue ropes over there,” he instructed as he pointed. John turned to look, seeing several coiled lengths of rope he hadn’t noticed before. These were knotted every few feet, and as he retrieved them, he realized that they served as a makeshift ladder for the workers down in the mine.

  “Loop it around your waist,” Richard said. “You just have to stand there and hold it, they’ll climb out on their own.”

  John obeyed, bracin
g his feet in the dirt as a heavy weight appeared on the other end of the rope, and he strained to keep from slipping as a tired, dirt-streaked face emerged from the mine a few moments later.

  “This will change once I get the pulleys,” Richard told him. “Just a couple more days, but it’s a good thing you’re young and strong enough for this in the meantime, right?”

  “Right,” John answered absently, wincing as one of the knots slipped and the rope cinched tighter around his waist. Richard kept talking, going on and on about how much more salt they would bring out once the supplies arrived, but John tuned him out. He had much more important things to focus on.

  The last worker lifted himself free of the mine, and with the day finally over, John practically bolted from the grid. He passed his father and the ration on the way home, breaking into a full run as he neared the settlement. The sun was low in the sky; it would be dark soon, and he didn’t have much time to prepare.

  He slowed when he reached his house, taking a deep breath as he tried to swallow back the instantaneous wave of nervousness that washed over him before going inside. The bag of ration supplements was sitting on a shelf in the corner of the main room, and he stepped closer, eyeing it as he sized it up.

  “How was your first day at the mine?” his mother, Kendra, greeted him. He whirled around, startled by her voice.

  “F-fine,” John stammered, taking a step back. “How was yours?”

  “I spent it with Sydney, like always,” Kendra answered, giving him a strange look. “Did you see your uncle on your way home? Is he back yet?”

  “He was helping Richard put the tools away when I left.”

  Kendra sighed with relief.

  “Good, so he’ll be here soon. Sydney’s been a handful today.”

  As if on cue, the dusty face of John’s eight-year-old cousin burst through the doorway, streaks of sweat dripping down her cheeks. Her eyes were the color of the night sky, and they seemed to light up with stars the moment she saw him.