by Ann Christy
From another box she drew forth a handful of things that looked a bit like alligator clips used in electrical work, yet they were made of silver and each one had a small chain attached to it. On some the chain simply ended but on most there was some fantastically decorated bauble dangling from the end.
The paper inside had noted the items were unknown and had been in hotel storage for a long time. The box in hotel storage had been marked such that removal of items was forbidden but no one knew why anymore. The management considered reclamation a more urgent directive. These she felt must also have some important purpose and she was loathe to simply toss them into a bin for melting without knowing what that purpose might be.
There were other things too, mostly from those hotel boxes but also from the residents, many of whom had lived there for generations. There were more watches of creative designs but other things she was baffled at. It seemed she had been very much mistaken when she assumed that the Hospitality level would have little in the way of heirlooms to sacrifice.
Fanciful objects with posts attached to them with ends that rotated about like a fastener were in great number. Similar items in pairs but with a screw between them instead of a rotating bit. There were things with bands that looked like those for a watch but showing nothing but a blank face. The compartments were filled with tiny electronic components when she pried open cases to look inside.
One ring had fascinated her when the stone changed color as she held it in her hand. She slipped it on a finger and it went from brown all the way through yellow and green to brilliant blue. It was only plated in silver, much of that worn away. She hated to ruin such an object for the thin layer of silver that remained.
In the end, she had been left with a box full of things she questioned. She had sent a wire up to the Mayor's office and explained the problem. She received a return reply not from the Mayor, but from the Council.
She was invited to bring the items up for consultation in IT where a representative of the Mayor's office experienced in such matters would provide guidance along with other necessary personnel in council service.
When she told her husband that she needed to plan for another trip Up Top and that she would be away for several days, he countered with a suggestion for a vacation. It was true that they hadn't been on one as a family for many years. It was equally true that both of them had a surfeit of vacation chits rattling around and waiting to be used. With Sela now her father's shadow, they were free to go if they chose.
Like all shadows, Sela was neither penalized nor rewarded based on her caster's absence or presence. She was paid a stipend based on her shadow status and how many of the qualifications for the desired job were complete. She earned no vacation chits but she had the days off her caster did and so was utterly free to go. Marina had been dubious about Joseph taking off so much time as a deputy, though when she was truthful with herself, she was more concerned with her ability to investigate if her family came along. She felt bad about that.
In the end, there was no way to avoid pretending to be delighted without arousing suspicion. Marina knew herself well enough to know that she was quite capable of hiding minor things from her husband but would certainly be caught if she began outright lying. Since his sixteenth year he had been either a deputy or a deputy's shadow and he could smell a lie a level away.
Instead of risking him sniffing her out, she had busied herself with making plans for their trip. She parceled out the work already in her queue to other willing Fabber hands. By the time she woke the morning their vacation started, she was honestly excited by the prospect of a family trip.
She had opened her eyes and looked up at the worn paint on her ceiling with a smile. A wonderful fluttery feeling in her stomach signified something new and exciting coming her way. When she made breakfast and bellowed for Sela to hurry up, she knew she would make the most of this unexpected treat.
Their trip up was to be broken by visits and stops along the way, including a stop to visit Joseph's mother. She was still alive and nearing her 63rd year of life, a venerable age. She lived in the same compartment where she had lived since moving in with her own husband and his father as a bride. She was a powerhouse of a woman, with more energy than all of mechanical combined. And she was beloved by so many that she was unintentionally intimidating in her confidence. She had earned that position, though, and had not always had it easy.
Marina knew all the stories. Tales of the discomfort she had felt first moving into a home not her own. Joseph’s grouchy grandfather sent such disapproving looks her way she had felt as if she might never fit in. The stories ended well, however, because all that disapproval had fallen away when Joseph’s mother had presented her father-in-law with a grandson promptly ten months after her marriage. It was with some pride that Joseph said that his parents hadn't wasted the automatic permit of newlyweds to have a baby. His grandfather and father were long dead, but his mother endured.
They were starting out after an early breakfast to make the climb from 95 to 82 and get a good visit in with his mother. As a deputy working nearby, Joseph saw her frequently but Marina hadn't been up to see her in many months. She was a bit ashamed of that. Trudging so far wasn’t something that could be done on a single day off and still get done what needed doing. She was excited to see her now that the time had come. She pressed her coveralls flat in front once more as they set their feet to the stairs.
It was early in the day but nearing the end of the first shift peak commute. People hurrying to make up for their tardiness shot past them a couple of times. A group of kids nearing the age where they would choose their profession went past in a gaggle, deep in discussion over the merits of whichever job they had just finished touring. Marina smiled at them as they passed, remembering the heady experience of being young and coming of age in a world that seemed filled with endless possibilities.
Rounding the last spiral below Level 92, Marina got her first whiff of the Animal Farms. Or at least she smelled what got transported from the farm to the composting stations or dirt farms. Her nose wrinkled against the smell automatically and Sela laughed at the look on her face. Joseph’s mother worked in Animal Farm Support so it wasn’t a new smell or an unfamiliar place to Marina. Despite previous exposure, there was no question that the thick smell of animal droppings was a shock after an absence.
Joseph's mother, now called Mother Patrick by most people, still worked at the Animal Farms though she worked less as she grew older. Mostly she provided the skilled guidance that only someone with very long experience could give rather than hard physical work. She liked to tell people that she worked in the life side of the business of life and death, bringing new life into the world and caring for injuries and illnesses so the cycle could continue.
Marina thought it was all very poetic but knew she would never be able to handle knowing that the other side of that business meant death for those same animals. She liked eating her occasional meal of meat too much to think about the specifics of how it got to her meal tray.
As she trailed her family past the landing on Level 90, Marina felt a tug at her sleeve and turned to see a girl trying to wave her back down. She didn’t speak and barely raised her eyes, but there was no mistaking that she wanted Marina to return to the landing. Joseph and Sela kept moving up the stairs, but he turned when Marina hollered for him to wait. Both he and Sela climbed back down, creating a tangle in the traffic.
They were forced to dodge when two lift workers replacing the normal lift bucket with a sealed canvas bag of dung almost dropped the bag from the hook. The family eventually unsnarled themselves but the girl seemed even more flustered by the chaos and still hadn’t spoken.
Their respective professions had taught Marina and her husband a great deal about patience but Sela was still young and lacked the nuances. She sighed loudly and asked, somewhat rudely, "What? We're never going to get to Grandma's if we keep stopping!"
Marina was embarrassed at her daughter’s lack
of manners but she knew it was the constant pauses so people could speak to her father that had been trying her patience. For the moment, she settled for sending a stern look her daughter’s way that clearly conveyed they would be speaking of this later. It worked and Sela dropped her gaze and took the nasty look off her face.
The girl blushed at the harsh words, two vivid red spots spreading quickly from her cheeks and down her slender neck to disappear into the neck of her baggy coveralls. She was slightly built and her posture made her seem even smaller.
Very gently, taking all the edges out of her voice, Marina asked, "Did you need me or the deputy?" She gestured toward her husband at the last word.
The girl's eyes flicked briefly toward Joseph and then back toward Marina before she replied, "Mother Patrick sent me to wait for you. She's back there." She pointed toward the entrance to the Animal Farms without turning and again very quickly glanced at the two adults before her eyes slid down and away from them.
"What's your name, young lady?" Marina asked. She kept her voice friendly and as quiet as she could make it and still be heard over the sound of feet on the metal stairs. A quick glance at the patch on the girl's green coveralls showed the familiar stylized profile of a chicken and a rabbit with an egg between them. Below it, the simple dark circle patch that indicated the wearer was a shadow was roughly sewn to the pocket.
"Sarah," came her almost inaudible reply.
"And you're a shadow at the Farm?"
Sarah nodded without making eye contact and said, "I'll take you to her. Will you follow me?"
"Of course. Lead the way, Sarah."
The girl's blush deepened further at the use of her name but she turned and walked rapidly toward the other end of the landing where two big doors separated the wider silo world from the domain of the animals and the mysterious business of animal husbandry. Marina watched the girl as they followed. She walked stiffly, like her goal was to remain unnoticed. Her long hair hung free, strangely enough, though by the way she leaned her head forward as she walked, Marina suspected it was more to hide her face rather than as a statement of beauty.
They didn’t really need a guide, especially not Joseph, but they followed obediently enough. He had spent a good part of his childhood roaming this floor and had helped out for many years before he had any thought to a future profession. It was the nature of childhood for most of the silo that they would spend time with their parents at work discovering their own thoughts on that career. That might not be the case for a child whose parent worked with sewage or in composting but for Joseph it had been a joy.
As the girl held one of the big doors open for the group to pass through, the rich smell enveloped Marina, replacing the singular smell of dung from the lift, and she couldn't help but take a deep breath. It wasn't that it was such a good smell because it was, if one were completely objective about it, a little stinky.
No matter how much cleaning the crews might do or how well the big circulating fans worked, there was no escaping the scent of animal droppings. But it wasn't just that smell that made up the unique olfactory signature of this level. There were the smells of the animals themselves.
There was the distinct powdery scent of the poultry, especially the young chicks. The goats had always been Marina's personal favorite and she picked out their scent right away. It was them she spent the most time with when Joseph had courted her, and again when they visited his mother in the early days of their marriage.
The young goats played and frolicked in such a carefree way that they couldn't help but lift even the most determined downcast mood. They smelled of something that was both familiar to Marina in a deep way and yet utterly strange to any other thing within the silo. It was a nice smell when they were young and then different, but still nice, in the adult female goats.
Rabbits too had a smell, but theirs was harder to describe. It was a bit like dust in a hot duct, yet also warm and inviting. Pigs, on the other hand, were by far Marina's least favored. Their droppings were horrendous and the smell lingered around them like a nasty fog. The young ones were fun and smelled a bit like babies when they were clean, but the old sows that bred the babies were dangerous as well as formidably rank.
All these aromas and the memories that went with them washed over her and Marina smiled. Her gaze was drawn immediately to the ‘Playpens’ near the entrance to the Farms. In pens filled with toys and other enrichment items, young animals spent some portion of their youth.
Visitors, tour groups and vacationing families could interact with the animals under careful supervision. The animals, in turn, became accustomed to the presence of many different people. It was an important part of the life of any animal that would be kept for breeding or the dairy or for their eggs.
A young goat at the stage Marina had always thought the pinnacle of the adorable spectrum thrust its dark nose out of the pen and bleated at her plaintively. Both she and Joseph reached out to stroke the finely shaped head through the bars. It wiggled and pressed its head toward the stroking hands as it gave a quieter bleat, as if to both acknowledge the affection and request more of the same.
She laughed at the pleasure the goat conveyed and saw the same happiness on Joseph's face. "Do you miss this?" she asked him, enjoying the softening of his expression.
He gave one final vigorous scratch behind the little goat’s ears and then pulled his hand away quickly lest it give him a nip, but the dreamy smile remained on his face for a moment longer. He drew her away from the pen and back toward their patiently waiting guide and less patiently waiting daughter. He whispered in her ear, "I miss that, but I don't miss knowing what will happen to them."
They exchanged a look and Marina snuck one more glance back at the kid, pressed against the pen with eyes unwavering upon her, trying to compel her to return and provide additional scritches. If she hadn’t been required elsewhere, the gaze would have worked and she felt her heart give the same little tug she got from the presence of any baby. The kid gave a more excited little bleat, turned and romped toward a group of squealing children arriving at the other end of the pen.
Sarah said nothing as she led them through the various pens and larger livestock areas and toward the ramp at the back. A large section of the back of the farm was walled off for delivery pens to provide the greatest level of security for mothers and their offspring. As they passed into those quiet areas the noise from the main farms faded. The veterinary areas were also here and they too were walled off to prevent any animal that might get loose from wandering about inside.
They made their way up the ramp, past rooms cut from the thick concrete that made up the many yards between levels, and into the Animal Farm Support area tucked into this small section of Level 89. It could be accessed only from the ramp, probably to the relief of all those who had to live and work on 89, and made up just the smallest portion of the level.
The quietest offices for the support staff were tucked tightly together on one side of the ramp and above it, with a safety railing preventing a fall onto the lower portions of the ramp. A tight left at the top of the ramp led down an identical hallway where large bays for any animal requiring extended treatment under supervision were housed.
Sarah motioned for them to take the right walkway. She still had not spoken and Marina wasn't sure if the girl had even raised her head during the entire walk. She was about to thank her, perhaps put her a bit more at ease, when one of the office doors slid open and the round face of Mother Patrick poked out.
"I'll be stuffed! You finally made it. Where's my grandbaby?" she called out in a strong, musical voice.
Sela stepped around her father with a big grin on her face and walked directly into the arms of her Grandma. As they hugged and Mother Patrick rocked her grand-daughter back and forth, words of love passed between them. Marina felt her own eyes prick with tears. She remembered the particular joy that came from seeing her Ba-Ma and she was glad her own daughter still had that as an almost grown woman.
She chattered about how well they looked and gave them no chance to answer as she swept the items up into her arms and tossed them onto her desk. When she did so, the battered metal top went from littered to completely buried, the books and papers now covered by a messy pile of fabric.
She twisted the knob on a single burner stove perched on a table and checked the teapot water level with a clatter of the metal lid. Marina's count now stood at five questions they had been asked but not yet answered and her smile widened. The pleasant chaos that was Joseph's mother always did that to her.
The older woman, who Marina could never quite bring herself to describe as actually old, grabbed her desk chair with surprising agility, gave it a twirl so that it faced the couch then plopped down into it. It was all one smooth economical movement and Marina almost envied her that kind of physical ability. Her hair was twisted in the same figure eight bun on the back of her head that Marina had seen her wearing since the day Joseph first brought her home. Frizzy strands of shorter hair escaped the bun and framed her face like a halo of wispy whiteness. Her face was remarkably unlined except when she smiled. Then her eyes all but disappeared in the many wrinkles that appeared.
It was said that life was divided into thirds. The first was childhood and it was supposed to be the happiest. The second was adulthood and it was to be the most rewarding. The third was being old and that, alas, went by the fastest. Marina and Joseph were almost to that final stage and Mother Patrick was already older than many people could expect to ever be, but she was more vital and vigorous than many a youngster. She was certainly happier than most. Perhaps the maxim simply didn’t apply to some people.