by Jason Luthor
“See?” Davis asks the crowd, jabbing a finger into my face. “The girl openly admits she wishes to defy the Tower Authority, and while we cannot say for sure she violated Floor 1, we do know that she has used the vent access to avoid the Security that guards us with their lives. Every small action she takes builds upon the other, and she demonstrates exactly the type of character and behavior that could plunge us into ruin.”
“Hey. Your name’s Davis, right? So just tell me, how long have we been here? Huh? Any clue? How long have we been in this Tower? How’d we get here? Why? What’s the Darkness? What’s the Creep? What’s at ground level? Do you actually have any answers, or do you really think that we’re going to survive by just waiting around to die? Because if we’ve been here for centuries and nothing’s changing, then one day we’re not going to be able to keep going. We can’t keep relying on the Scavenging forever. We have to try and get to the ground. That’s the only way we’re going to live.”
The room explodes as Prosecutor Davis grins like an idiot. Or maybe I’m the idiot for saying what I said. He turns his back to me and walks away, practically basking in all the protests—and then Judge Reaver gets to his feet. His eyes have gone wide, and for the first time, he looks really emotional. Not in a good way. Dude’s angry.
Really angry.
He holds his hands up, silencing everyone. Davis starts to say something, but the judge just shoots him this death stare and he snakes away to his seat. I’m the one that’s not off the hook, though. The old judge takes a few steps toward me, his eyes just burning into mine.
“Young woman,” he says, “what do you know of the Creep?”
“Well, uh, basically what everyone else knows, I guess. I mean, it lives at the bottom of the Tower, and once in a while it moves higher, but that’s what we have Security for. You’ll trip hard if you touch it, which is pretty obvious to anyone that’s been on the lower levels.” I stop for a second, trying to think about everything I know about the Creep. Truth is, nobody knows much. “I kinda think that’s really all I know.”
“Do you know it can grow angry? That it can quickly spread upward into the upper floors?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ve heard stories. I mean, two years ago I was having this birthday party when they put us into lockdown. The Creep was apparently coming up the stairwell. Thing is, I never really found out how fast it was moving or why. But, I did notice the next day that some people were missing. So that’s how I know the Creep can get upset.”
“Indeed.” He paused, his black eyes like endless pools. “What makes the Creep angry? How? Do you have any idea?”
“Uh, that I don’t know.”
“Why is it we only allow a very few to go beneath Floor 21?”
“See, that I still don’t know.”
“But you do know the Creep reacts to the presence of people. That it can cause hallucinations.”
“Yeah. You start to see the Demons when you touch it.”
He nodded. “Now tell me. To what degree does the Creep infest the lower levels?”
“Well, not too much. I mean, enough to be disgusting, but not enough to, like, cause trouble.”
“And you’ve never thought that perhaps it’s the number of people in an area that causes a reaction from the Creep?”
I start munching on my lip again. What’s he implying? “I guess not.”
“Indeed, it is the very presence of large numbers of people that might anger the Creep. It is one of the primary reasons that we prohibit any dwellings lower than Floor 21. It is not the only reason, but the others are none of your concern. The larger point is that we cannot afford to introduce too many people into the Creep at once. If we do, well, such action is quite likely to provoke it. And provoking it can lead to incidents such as the one you must remember from last year.”
The court goes silent, everyone from Prosecutor Davis to the people all around me. It’s pretty surreal to be sitting there in a glaringly white room while a bunch of white-suited people stare at you, a light brighter than any sun you’ve seen staring down on you while guards watch you from the doors. The worst part? The silence. Nobody says anything while they wait for me. For one of the few times in my life, I don’t have a snappy response.
Finally I manage to start talking, but my throat’s breaking, and my lips feel like they’re coated in grit and sand. I cough and try to get my words out. “So, uh . . . so . . . you’re saying that when that event happened . . . on my birthday . . . we might have caused it? That we sent down too many people?”
“It is not the purpose of this court to say.”
“But you’re practically telling me that the reason we can’t leave is because if we send too many people below Floor 21, we’ll get the Creep angry. So why can’t we just send a few at a time? You know, try and, like, get people out in bursts?”
“It is not the purpose of this court to say.”
Damn. “Okay, so, fine. We just stay up here our whole lives. I go back to wondering how we got up here in the first place. And the worst part is nothing ever changes.”
Prosecutor Davis looks over to the judge, who nods. Reaver takes his seat again, breathing in deeply. “Something will change. Change is inevitable, even if it is not the change you might have sought. Change is necessary, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I have reached my verdict.” He lowers his head, his fingers wrapping around the edges of his chair like a king on his throne. “I cannot hold you guilty for a Violation of Movement in the Highest Degree, which would require that we determine with certainty that you have indeed violated the prohibition of coming onto Floor 1. However, we know it is likely that you have circumvented Security by using the vents, so I hold you guilty for a lower degree. I cannot hold you guilty for a Violation of Speech in the Highest Degree because, indeed, I can see you attempted to refrain from telling others about nonsense such as Angels. However, if anyone had heard your recording, then they, too, might have thought the existence of Angels possible. So, I hold you guilty in a lower degree.”
What sort of penalty does being guilty in a lower degree get you? I don’t have time to think about it much as Judge Reaver continues.
“However, for a Violation of Thought in the Highest Degree, I unfortunately have no other choice but to hold you guilty for the crime of considering concerted effort against Tower Authority and its enforcement arm of Security. You would not have been guilty of this for the use of the vents as a means of movement alone, but combined with your outbursts today, it is clear that you have contemplated life outside the Tower. Perhaps you thought you might do this by exploring beneath Floor 21 on your own, or that you might sway others to resist Authority by convincing them of your views. While we cannot be certain of the degree to which you would choose to resist, there is no charge of Violation of Thought in any lower degree. Either you believe and support Tower Authority in its attempts to secure the safety of the people, or you do not. And unfortunately, it is clear that you do not. Perhaps there may have been alternatives for you if you’d simply violated a movement rule or part of the Speech Code, but for such a flagrant violation, among the worst that a person can commit in our community, we have no other choice but to sentence you to Reinforcement. The degree of Reinforcement is to last for five years, which will require annual return to Security so that the Reinforcement penalty may be reapplied. It is the hope of this court that through Reinforcement, you will come to learn and embrace the safety that Tower Authority provides for you.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I start to protest as Security surges into the corner of my eye. “Listen, I don’t want to start trouble, okay? I just wanted to know what’s down below the lower floors! Like any Scavenger does. That’s all I ever wanted to be was a Scavenger! Just, how about that, huh?” I gasp as two grizzly hands grab me by the arms and start to tug at me. A scream comes out of my mouth, and my panicked eyes go to Judge Reaver, but he just sits there. All around the room, everyone is starting
to turn their backs to me, ignoring me while these two beasts start dragging me away. “Judge Reaver, please!” I scream one more time as they’re taking me to the door. “Just make me a Scavenger, and I’ll be happy! All I want to do is know more! Why is that wrong?”
Then they force me through the courtroom doors. I’m done.
Recording Thirty-Seven
So, this is gonna be my last recording.
They told me they’re going to come for me in about an hour. I’ve seen what Reinforcement does. I know what it looked like when they injected that guy full of it, and how much Stella didn’t want Reinforcement to happen to her. I know what Danny was like after he got out.
And apparently they’re going to be shooting me up with Creep for five years.
They said they’re going to take my stuff once they’re done. Why let me keep it—am I right? If I listen to my recordings later, then I’ll get suspicious again. Start asking questions. Then this whole mess will start over.
I think they just let me keep the recorder so I wouldn’t go nuts while I’m in here. Honestly, I think the room’s just a refurbished Cleanup closet. It makes me wonder who exactly does the Cleanup in a place like Floor 1.
I guess, before the end, I want to summarize my thoughts.
I can’t say it for sure, but I think Mom’s been having something like Voluptas. She goes through those crazy, manic phases and then depression. I could be wrong, just, her behavior is so like some of what I’ve seen here. I don’t know that she gets to have it regularly, but I know she’s also worked as a chemist, so if anyone could make the stuff, it’d probably be her. Someone’s got to make it, right?
Dad. I never got to see him again. What he does, where he went . . . I dunno. Suddenly I care again. I mean, I never really stopped caring. I just wanted him to be like the dad I remembered, but . . . right now I’d take any version of him. Doesn’t matter. I won’t be able to think about it in an hour.
Uh, so, I’m really not sure where I’d rather live. The lower floors get less food, cheaper clothes, worse conditions. Still, at least we don’t have to take that stuff. Voluptas. I already hate being told what to do and not to question anything. Can you imagine being given a pill that’s supposed to just make you . . . happy, somehow? Like you can just forget every terrible thing you’ve seen? And is it worth forgetting the bad things if you forget the good things, too?
God. That’s depressing. Because I’d rather know and be depressed than not know and be happy.
Floor 1 is the ultimate example of depressing, even if everything about the Tower is kinda crapsack. I get the feeling that people like Judge Reaver know a little more about why we’re here but just don’t really know the exact reason. In the court they said we’d been here centuries, and, apparently, there’s about 15,000 of us.
That’s a lot of people. I think I’ve mentioned that the Tower really is huge. I never really thought we had that many around, though.
Then again, it’s not like I count.
I found an air vent in here, but it’s too small to move through. No escape there. Too bad, since it plunges straight down. That’d be helpful right now because at least I’d be able to get off Floor 1. Even if I got tossed onto, like, Floor 20, at least I’d be able to hide. A tower this big? Yeah, there’s got to be somewhere people go on the run down there.
Right?
You’d think that, maybe, some people would escape to the lower levels. You know, get away from Tower Authority to where the Creep’s the worst.
Speaking of. I guess I won’t even care if or when Mike gets back. Mike. My only partner in crime. I super wish I’d had a chance to see one more movie with you. But, not time for that now.
So, I’m going to sit here and wait. There’s nothing else to do.
Just, as a final thought, I guess I’d like to say I kinda wish I’d spent some more time with my family. They’re not who I remember, but . . . I still love them. Yeah. I know that’s weird, huh? You spend your life as a teenager finding anyone else you’d rather want to be with, then end up wanting to see your parents right before you die.
Because even if I’m not going to be, like, physically dead, whoever I am right now isn’t going to survive.
Still, I want to know I had some purpose. Some way of knowing that whoever I am right now is remembered.
That’s why I’m going to force open that grate and toss this recorder down the vent. I kinda hope someone finds it, somehow, someday. That they learn that me, this Jackie, was alive. Maybe they even finish the investigation I’ve started and really find out what’s happening in this tower.
And even if they don’t, at least some part of who I am will survive. Because this recorder is the proof that I existed.
Well, I guess that’s all from the Jackie you know and love. That I know and love.
Good-bye.
THE SCAVENGER’S STORY
Commander Vick’s Report Number One
I would like to state, for the record, that I hate making these things. So, to all my superiors on Floor 1, please be aware that I make this recording under duress. I am, of course, partly joking. Still, in all seriousness, I know that you accepted me as a commander specifically because of my ability to make light of my circumstances. It’s the only way to stay sane in the Creep, after all. So, also for the record, do forgive what has been described to me by Councilman Waters as “a genuine and absolute disregard for the protocol of the Tower.”
He may not like me, but he knows that I do what’s most important: identify and procure materials necessary for the ongoing maintenance of the Tower.
Which is to say I find the candy bars his children like so much. That last sentence is off the record, though.
As per our typical protocol, we began readying ourselves for the Scavenging the night before it commenced. I mean, despite the fact that it’s a manufactured event created specifically to make people in the lower levels feel a little better about their lives, at least it does make them happy. I remember growing up that there wasn’t much I looked forward to like the Scavenging. So yes, I do, in fact, get quite a kick out of seeing kids happy about us heading out. Especially the younger ones. There’s just something about an eight- or nine-year-old boy or girl looking at you like you’re a superhero. I don’t do this for the praise, but I do get a sense of accomplishment from inspiring those kids. I used to be one of them, after all.
Preparations for the Scavenging went as normal. I’ve been on the record about this before, but I despise Commander Abbott’s approach to equipping his men when they head into the Creep. There’s a reason my fatality list is shorter than his. As a rule, Abbott likes to overload his men with ammo and armor. For the most part, none of that’s necessary. The Creep’s only violent once you get below about Floor 40, and even then there are simple steps you can take to avoid getting it angry. Actually, a man benefits from added mobility farther down the tower, more than heavy armor. In tight spaces, if the Creep does lash out, you need to be able to escape. All the ammunition in the world isn’t going to save you from a hallway full of that stuff if you get it agitated. I choose to give my men the best chance to live by leaving the bulky armor behind and focusing on speed and mobility.
Again, the numbers bear out my tactics. I want that on the record because I think someone needs to talk to Abbott about his methods. Obviously I’m not the one, since he’s technically above me as far as rank. But someone needs to do it.
Regardless, I don’t just leave the armor behind altogether. I simply prefer to have my men wear lighter tactical vests without all the additional ammunition, and I particularly try to avoid the larger Type IV armor he’s so fond of. That bulky junk will get you killed. I’ve seen a man get trapped in a tight, rubble-filled corridor when trying to escape from agitated Creep. You’ll excuse me if I prefer the lighter Type II protection. Strong enough to guard against shrapnel, some forms of bullets, and a few Creep tentacles, but not so bulky that you’ll get caught in the tight conditions that ar
e prevalent in some of those hallways.
Weapon selection was fairly standard for the team. The miniature flamethrowers we use are, for all intents and purposes, a necessity for driving back particularly infested hallways. Besides those, every man was equipped with their standard sidearm as well as a carbine rifle. I’ve never said that rifles aren’t effective against the Creep, just that they’re not very effective if things get so bad that you’ve got the infestation growing rapidly.
At any rate, once we were all equipped, we settled in. The only time in our lives when we’re allowed to stay in the luxurious apartments of Floor 1 is the day before we leave for the Scavenging. Funny part about that has always been how little we’re actually allowed to see of Floor 1. A lot of Security is always around to escort us to our apartment, and whenever we have business with the council, they lead us straight there. Still, I’ve caught sight of those swimming pools they have. If I told people about that sort of thing, they’d have a freak-out. There’d also be a lot of people going to Reinforcement, so I keep my mouth shut. All of us do. Obedience to Authority is the only way to provide for the Tower’s Security.
Anyway, the night goes as usual. We sit around, discuss our prospects and how this mission’s going to go down. The Creep’s been unusually peaceful lately, so we don’t anticipate any trouble. Still, you can never let down your guard once you get below Level 21. My guys are pros, though. Nobody’s taking this lightly.
The next day we set out by early morning. Again, this is my favorite part of the entire experience. Per usual we walk north along the hallways, then double back around through southern corridors. And as usual, there’s just a huge turnout. I get a kick when I see those posters they hold up. This year they’ve come up with some new ones. They’re pretty amazing, too. They’ve got a picture of me on the front with the words “Vicious Vick” along the bottom.