“Good morning,” he yawned in greeting, shivering as he shook himself. Amber didn’t answer, and he cocked his head as she quickly stepped out of her room to join him on the walkway.
“Are you okay, Amber?”
“I’m fine,” she muttered, ignoring his curious gaze as they headed towards the stairs. “Tired, that’s all.”
She reached up, absently touching the spot on her neck, and Brian pointed.
“Does it still hurt?”
Amber glanced at him and quickly shook her head.
“No, not anymore. You were right about it feeling better today.”
“Good,” he said. “Maybe you won’t be so scared next time.”
Her eyes snapped forward to meet his, dread filling her stomach.
“Next time?” she echoed. “You mean they’re going to do this again?”
“Not all of it,” Brian told her as they followed the crowd lining up for breakfast. “But that’s what it means to be part of the breeding program, they’re always going to do some sort of testing.”
Amber’s face darkened with dismay, and she felt her throat close up as she took her trays of food. She never once would have imagined that there could be a place in existence that was worse than back home, but every new detail she learned about the facility was quickly proving her wrong.
She caught sight of Darren, and she did her best to force her thoughts out of her mind as she nudged Brian.
“He’s waving at us again,” she said, pointing, and Brian sighed as he trudged towards the table.
“How did testing go, Amber?” Darren asked. She gulped.
“Fine.”
“Did you get your results?”
“Researcher breeding.”
“Well, I’m sure Brian was relieved to hear that,” Darren mused, chewing slowly as he gave her a long look. “Things will be much easier for you.”
Amber raised a brow, studying his face. There was some hidden meaning in his words, she was sure of it, but his expression betrayed nothing. She watched as he and Brian exchanged a glance, a twinge of curiosity flashing through her heart.
“What about you, Brian?” Darren asked. “Are you ready for work?”
He stressed the last word almost like he was concerned, and Brian quickly scoffed.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he muttered, his eyes hardening into a warning glare. Darren laughed dismissively and gave Amber a playful wink.
“Well, someone’s a bit doom and gloom, am I right?”
His face was bright as if he was only teasing, but this time, Amber was sure she could hear worry in his tone.
“Is everything okay?” she asked cautiously. Darren dramatically lifted a finger to his cheek, pretending to think for a moment.
“Maybe if one of us at this table grew some sense―”
“It’s fine,” Brian told her, flashing a disarming smile. “Just ignore him, I already told you he’s an ass.”
Darren raised a hand in mock protest.
“I just asked if you were ready for work, that’s all. I mean, you definitely want to be prepared for something that important, right?”
Amber gave Brian a puzzled look.
“I thought we were just going to orientation.”
“We are, Amber,” Brian shrugged. “It’s nothing, I just have to go to work when we’re done.”
Darren made a face.
“Oh, you’ll definitely be going somewhere,” he snapped, and Amber cringed, a familiar wave of fear washing over her as she gave a quick look around. They were doing little to hide their apparent frustration with each other, but to her surprise, no one seemed to be paying attention. She remembered the aversion dose she had received during assessment; people obviously didn’t get supplements here, which likely meant that the rules were different about being reported.
Still, the exchange was making her uncomfortable, and she awkwardly reached for her tray.
“There’s an empty table over there, I should probably move.”
Darren put his hand on her arm.
“No, Amber, it’s okay,” he growled, but his ire wasn’t directed at her. “I’m finished now.”
He grabbed his tray and stood up in a huff, spinning on his heel as he marched away, and Brian scoffed under his breath before glancing at her.
“Well, that was fun,” he sighed, nodding towards the clock on the wall as he pointed at her half-eaten food. “We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry. You need to learn how to eat faster, you take forever.”
Because I can’t stop thinking about who I’m eating, Amber thought to herself, shuddering as she took a bite. Her father’s voice echoed in her head as she remembered him bragging to her about Ayn’s death.
“We got a full 250 pounds this harvest…”
She took a deep breath, forcing the words out of her mind as sorrow stabbed through her heart.
“I’m trying,” she said. “The allotments back home are a lot smaller, and I’ve never had double before.”
“They just seem smaller because the meat is dried,” Brian told her. “It’s barely four extra bites, I think you can manage.”
He sounded like he was trying to hide his annoyance, and Amber finished as quickly as she could. After what had happened with Darren, she didn’t want to give him any other reason to be mad.
Brian stacked her tray on top of his own, his pace brisk as he headed for the exit. She caught sight of his hands as he dropped the trays at the wash station; he was trembling, and when he saw her looking at him, he jammed his hands into his pockets.
“The injections,” he told her, rolling his eyes. “I’m fine.”
“They must be bad,” she said nervously, jogging to keep up with his long stride. He shrugged as he moved towards a hallway under the ground-floor staircase.
“You get used to it.”
They fell silent for a moment, then Amber eyed him.
“What did Darren mean when he said being a researcher breeder would be easier for me?”
Brian pursed his lips, his expression growing cold. For a moment, she thought her question had upset him, but when he glanced at her, she could see pity in his eyes.
“How many women have you noticed here?” he asked. She shrugged.
“I don’t know. Not many, I guess. Why?”
“The women have a tough time with the breeding programs, it has to do with the injections they get,” Brian told her. “The hormones do something to their insides that causes a lot of pain, especially for the women used in the ration breeding program. Most of them stay in their rooms all the time.”
Fear rose up in Amber’s throat.
“But it’s different for the researcher breeders?” she managed to ask. “It won’t be the same for me?”
“It shouldn’t be.”
“Why?”
He frowned.
“I think it’s about harvesting eggs, but I don’t know all the details. They need a lot of eggs to create the rations, so they give the ration breeders a lot more injections. The facility doesn’t make as many researchers though, so you won’t have to take as many shots.”
Amber felt tears well up in her eyes.
“I hate it here,” she whispered. “They make it sound so perfect when you apply, but it’s really just horrible.”
Brian shot her a glance.
“Don’t let anyone else hear you say that,” he told her quietly. “They don’t like hearing that people aren’t happy being here.”
She swallowed hard and made a face.
“Because having a little extra food and showers and ten years’ worth of double rations for your family is supposed to be worth it, right?”
The floor had steepened into a slope, and Brian paused when they reached the bottom, motioning for her to turn left.
“It’s not ten years, Amber. That’s how it used to be, but now the families only get extra rations for one year. There are too many pe
ople at the facilities for them to make enough rations for that kind of demand.”
Amber clenched her teeth. Of course that would be a lie, too. She stared down at her feet as she took a deep breath.
“So what’s so important about your job?” she asked. “Darren sounded a little worried.”
Brian shrugged.
“Nothing. It’s boring.”
“Where do you work?”
He sighed.
“I do lots of things—errands for the researchers, escorting new arrivals, then there’s my main job assignment in water treatment. I hate them all.”
She cocked her head.
“Job assignment?”
“Yeah. Everyone gets one, they’ll give you a card with yours sometime tonight.”
“What kinds of jobs?”
“I don’t know, all kinds.”
Amber waited for him to go on, giving him an expectant look, but he didn’t answer. He seemed suddenly distracted, and she glanced away, deciding to drop the subject, when he cleared his throat.
“I’m not very good company today,” Brian said apologetically. “A lot on my mind, I guess. Work and all.”
“It’s okay. I guess I’ll learn about everything here soon enough, right?”
She couldn’t hide the sarcasm in her voice, and he sighed.
“Yeah, that’s for sure.”
They stepped out of the hall and into a wide entryway. There were two double-doors on the other side, and a sign was posted on one of them that read ‘ORIENTATION’. The doors were closed, and Brian whispered a curse as he grabbed her hand.
“They’ve already started!” he hissed. “Hurry up, they’ll notice us!”
“Are we in trouble?” Amber gasped as he yanked her forward. He didn’t answer, pushing her inside and ducking through the door behind her.
She instantly froze. The auditorium was big, and it looked like everyone else attending the orientation was already seated near the stage at the front of the room. They all turned to look at her and she felt her face flush red; there were dozens of empty seats closer to the group, but she threw herself into the first one she saw, shrinking down in the back row as she tried to make herself as small as possible. Brian sat down next to her, and thankfully, the lights dimmed a moment later.
A man stepped out of a door to the right, and a collective gasp went up from the crowd as everyone took notice of him. He was fat, and Amber’s mouth gaped as she watched him heave himself up the few steps that led to the stage. She hadn’t even known it was possible for someone to be that big.
The man moved towards a podium in the center of the stage, raising his hands for silence as he leaned forward and began speaking into a black object in front of him.
“Good morning!” his voice boomed out, and Amber clapped her hands over her ears. She saw Brian glance at her in amusement, and she glared at him as she lowered her hands.
“My name is Executive Jeremy Smith,” the man continued. “And I oversee the function of this facility. It’s my pleasure to welcome you all to Center 82. You are the key to humanity’s survival, both through the development of new researchers to further our programs and the creation of new ration strains.”
Brian scoffed quietly; she shot him a look, but his expression was blank.
“Every aspect of your experience here is confidential,” Executive Smith went on. “If you ever encounter anyone who does not live in this facility, you are hereby ordered not to discuss any details of what you have seen or heard within our walls, no exceptions. The penalty for disobeying this edict is death.”
“Death?” Amber gasped fearfully, and Brian nodded.
“Don’t worry about it,” he shushed her. “They make it so you won’t ever see anyone from outside, but if you do, just don’t say anything about the algae and testing stuff and you’ll be fine.”
He pointed at the podium, redirecting her attention. A light had appeared on the back wall, followed by a picture of the resource center. It was blurry and looked old; the words above the picture said ‘ALBERTSON LABS’, and Executive Smith smiled proudly.
“This is Center 82, your new home. Like all of the resource centers across the region, our facility was built over a hundred years ago by a group of pioneering entrepreneurs who recognized that life on our planet was at risk of extinction, and we owe our very existence to these people who had the foresight to prepare for the worst. The technology we have here was state-of-the-art in its time and built to last, but this also means that everything we use in our daily lives is very old. Many things are irreplaceable, so be respectful of your surroundings at all times.”
A click sounded as the picture changed to a map.
“As I’m sure you’ve already realized, our facility is very large, and it has enough room for over ten thousand people and around five thousand rations. Our population is usually held around one-third capacity, but we always operate at full capacity for rations. The building was initially designed as a refuge for preserving plant and animal life, but it was converted over for housing and research when the ration program was initiated.”
He changed the picture again, switching to an image of two large spaces.
“These are our residential wings. Those of you who have been selected for the researcher breeding program are housed on the lower levels of the wing pictured on the left, and the image on the right is the ration development program’s wing. Please be aware that crossing between wings is strictly prohibited with the exception of those who have been assigned to certain jobs.”
The screen flashed.
“This is an expanded view of our facility. The two main wings have forty floors each, while the other wings have more or less depending on their function. The ration dome is marked in red, and the green area over there is the incubation dome.”
“Are we going to see it?” a voice called out from the crowd, and Executive Smith nodded.
“Briefly,” he answered, and an excited titter passed through the crowd. He gestured at the picture, continuing.
“The subterranean residential levels are marked in blue, and the orange levels above them are labs and administrative offices. The yellow area between them is the recreation wing. You may come and go from the recreation wing during your free time as you wish, but again, crossing between wings is prohibited.”
He clicked the button in his hand.
“These are the areas where you will work, each of you will receive your job assignments before lights-out tonight. Do not be tardy, you are expected to arrive immediately after reporting to the lab each morning. Being late may result in your removal from this program.”
“We’ll get to go home?” a small voice asked, and Executive Smith turned his head, his eyes narrowing.
“Who said that?”
A short, skinny boy who looked to be about Amber’s age stood up, and Executive Smith’s expression darkened.
“What is your name?”
“Lee Williams.”
“Mr. Williams, the answer is no, you will not get to go home,” Executive Smith snapped. “As I said, the information you are receiving about our facility is confidential. Removal from the program is performed in a manner that ensures that it stays that way. Rest assured that it would be in your best interests to avoid removal.”
The boy sat down, and a sudden twinge of dread tugged at Amber’s heart. She could only imagine what Executive Smith meant by his response.
“Are there any other questions?” he asked. The room was dead silent, and he gestured at the doors off to the side of the podium.
“We can start the tour,” he said. “Guides will escort you through the facility, then you’ll have a meal and the rest of the day to yourselves. Again, welcome to Center 82, and I hope you enjoy a productive and peaceful life here.”
He stepped down, quickly waddling out the same way he had entered, and the crowd began murmuring as everyone stood up. Brian moved into the aisle and paused,
waiting for Amber to go ahead of him, and she slowly moved towards the doors Executive Smith had pointed to.
“What now?” she asked. “Where are we going?”
“To find a guide,” he answered, and she glanced over her shoulder at him.
“Isn’t that what you are?”
“I’m only assigned to individuals,” he told her. “I can’t lead groups, not where we’re going. Come on, let’s get this over with.”
†‡†
CHAPTER NINE
Amber followed Brian out of the auditorium and into a huge, open hall. Colored flags attached to thin poles were dancing in the air just above the crowd that was gathering, and she turned to glance at him.
“Where are the guides?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the crowd. He pointed.
“They’re holding those flags. We just have to pick one―”
“Amber!”
She glanced up, recognizing the face that was smiling at her from across the room. It was Paul, the man who had processed her two days ago when she had first arrived. He was holding a red flag, and his eyes sparkled as he walked towards her.
“Glad to see that you made it through assessment!” he beamed as he approached. “What program are you part of?”
“Researcher development,” Amber answered, returning his smile.
“That’s lucky,” Paul said. “You won’t have to do as many tests as the others.”
“So I’ve heard,” she muttered, her face instantly falling. He didn’t seem to notice, and he beckoned to her, twirling the flag in his hands as he stepped back towards his place near the wall.
“Come on, you can be part of my tour group. Did you get settled into your wing?”
Amber shrugged as she followed him.
“I guess—I mean, I know how to find my room and the cafeteria, but everything else is still a bit confusing.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” Paul told her, running his hands through his messy hair as more people flocked around him. He turned and began counting under his breath, stopping when he reached twenty.
“That’s it for my group!” he called out, waving at the other guides. “We’re starting at the beginning!”
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