Yes, Lucy had slept, but only after she had a chance to talk to her dad.
Hours after he left for work per Huck’s bidding, her father reappeared, shedding his lab coat, kissing Maxine, and absorbing hugs from the twins. He proclaimed he was off to bed, but Lucy quizzed him on the System; she stood between him and his bedroom door, unwavering and unwilling to budge.
She learned that the underground housing was powered by solar energy. Had she and Grant ventured up over a grassy hill to the North of Brixton, they would have seen the expansive solar troughs harnessing high concentrations of power and funneling them to their new home. The EUS, as her dad called it, was a dome shape, with ten floors, and on floors one through eight there were 10 pods. The pods held clusters of 5 apartments each. In the center of each floor there were various rooms: a greenhouse for growing vegetables, the medical center Lucy was taken to, a rec center.
Lucy couldn’t conceptualize where the tanks were located. She supposed, as much as she hated to admit it, that her father could be misleading her on the size and scope of the System. She tried to remember the path to the tanks after she was pulled out of the elevator, but everything was a hazy blur—her already distant memory, slipping away before she could grasp it.
It wasn’t too long before she could tell her father grew restless of her questions. He retreated to his simple bedroom, but only after embracing Lucy wordlessly and holding her close to his chest. She could feel his steady heartbeat through his shirt. A consistent and comforting thud-thud thud-thud. “I’m proud of your bravery, Lucy,” he said. And she initiated the end of the hug, pulling away, and curling up onto the uncomfortable beige couch in the corner of the open room.
She wished that everyone understood that she was not the same. The weeks had changed her. How had everyone else arrived at the System unscathed?
The world was dead. Her friends were dead. She was living underground.
But now: brunch with her mom in a sundress just her size.
The dichotomy was dizzying.
Lucy held the dress in her grasp and opened the door to her room. She stood in the middle of the open area, shifting between one leg and then the other. Monroe and Malcolm were playing a board game; moving tiny plastic pieces around some map of the United States. Harper watched them from the couch, sucking away, her index finger curled up over her nose.
“Shower?” Lucy asked and Harper pointed with her free hand to a door next to their tiny kitchenette. She walked across the room and slid into the bathroom, which had a toilet and a tile shower. Shedding her clothes, Lucy stepped onto the tile and turned the shower dial; a low-pressure stream of water trickled from the showerhead. It was lukewarm. Lucy loved her showers hot, scalding—no amount of heat was enough. The tepid water annoyed her and she spun the dial hoping for more, but the water didn’t change temperature. Then Lucy noticed the countdown. Right above the faucet a digital clock ran backward from five minutes. Ticking away.
Working fast, Lucy lathered up what she hoped was shampoo and then rinsed; she watched the suds slip down the metal drain in the middle of the floor. She had enough time to run some of the same soap over her body before the counter reached zero and the shower clicked off, leaving Lucy standing naked and shivering.
She took a towel and wrapped it around her body and then she walked over to the mirror. It wasn’t even steamy. Lucy looked at herself, leaning in and peering at her bare skin, yellow under the light. It seemed already that her cheeks had lost some of their youthful roundness. Her face appeared pallid and gaunt. She tucked her wet hair behind her ears and sighed.
The Sky Room was a restaurant located on the tenth floor. When they walked through the double doors and into the room, Lucy gasped. The top of the dome was painted as a replica of the sky—just like the ceiling of the Venetian hotel in Las Vegas that Lucy had seen in pictures; artificial light simulated sunlight and from small speakers on the walls, Lucy heard the distinct chirp of birds and a subtle whooshing of wind. Funnel people underground, but give them a fancy restaurant with all the amenities of the outside world? It was all so strange and surreal.
Maxine stayed closed to her daughter, and she had donned a slimming black dress and a pair of heels. Lucy watched as her mother walked up to a podium and told a young man standing there that the King party had arrived.
“Mom?” Lucy asked as the young man then grabbed two paper menus and walked them through a maze of bistro tables where people from the System ate off of mismatched china. “This is weird.”
With an apologetic look around at the people at the other tables, Maxine flashed Lucy a cautionary smile and then motioned for Lucy to sit. The young man handed Lucy a menu and helped her push in her chair. Lucy set the menu aside and took in the room—nicely dressed people, eating in hushed voices.
“Seriously, Mom. I’m gonna freak out,” Lucy continued and set her elbows on the table and looked around. People glanced up to make eye contact with Lucy and smile. Everyone appeared friendly but immersed in his or her own little world.
“Simmer down,” Maxine replied and she took a cloth napkin and placed it in her lap. “I’m not asking you to accept any of this…but I do want to have a nice brunch with my daughter. This place is supposed to be a treat. Can’t I treat you? Isn’t that allowed? When was the last time you had a hot meal? When was the last time we had a date, huh?”
Mother-daughter dates used to be a real thing in the King home. With six children, someone was always feeling neglected, so they became a way to connect one-on-one. The dates went up on the family calendar and nothing, no work emergencies or kid emergencies, ever derailed them. The child was able to choose the outing and it was special and fun. Lucy remembered back on her time alone with her mom with fondness and nostalgia.
“That’s not exactly my point,” Lucy complained. Her mother glanced around at the other tables and then motioned for Lucy to keep her voice down. Rolling her eyes, Lucy continued. “You can’t honestly tell me that this whole thing isn’t…bizarre.”
“It is,” Maxine said curtly. She scratched her cheek and took a breath. “So, what now? You want to leave?”
“Is that an option?”
Her mother dipped her head and leaned closer. “To leave the Sky Room or to leave the System?”
“Both, I guess. And listen to yourself. The Sky Room, Mom. The System? Like, this place has a name…like we’re on an outing…I just…why is everyone acting so normal?”
A different young man approached the table and they pulled apart, returning upright. Lucy blushed.
“Good morning, Mrs. King,” he said addressing her mom by name. “Drinks for you two?”
“Coffee, please,” Maxine requested.
“A mimosa,” Lucy said. “No, just, straight gin. Right. That’s a thing, right?”
Maxine raised her eyebrows and didn’t take her eyes off her daughter. “She’ll have an orange juice.”
“They don’t serve alcohol in the System?”
“We do—” The young man looked confused, he glanced at Maxine and then Lucy with an embarrassed smile, as if he were worried that he wasn’t in on some joke.
“I’ll have coffee too,” Lucy said after a second to spare the waiter, and the boy nodded and walked quickly away.
Maxine tapped her long fingers on the table. Rat-a-tat-tat and then a repeat rat-a-tat-tat, never looking away from Lucy, her brows knit with assessment and concern. Lucy stared back. Maybe before the Release she would have cowered, but something about losing Grant the moment she stepped foot in the underground system, combined with her family’s robotic acceptance, made her feel emboldened. She knew her mother wouldn’t expect it; that she’d play all her cards and expect Lucy to toe the line.
It was Maxine who broke the silence first. And as she started to speak, Lucy realized quickly it wasn’t what she expected.
“I hate this place,” her mother said, not bothering to lower her voice or lean in closer. “You’re absolutely right. Al
l your instincts. You’re right.”
Lucy froze. Then she looked confused. “Do they pipe gaseous truth serum into the air ducts here?”
Maxine didn’t budge. Then she ran her hand through her short bob and folded her hands neatly on the table.
“I didn’t bring you up here to play a game, Lucy Larkspur. I brought you up here because I missed my daughter. God dammit, I have been,” her mother paused, her voice breaking, her chin quivering and Lucy struggled to keep all her own emotions in check, “a disaster. I thought they would have to commit me. It was my fault…”
“No,” Lucy shook her head with sudden sympathy.
“I sent you out of the house that morning. I lost you and Ethan. Still, right now, I can’t forgive myself.”
“But Dad—” Lucy tried to form the argument faster than her mother could shoot it down, but she was too slow. Maxine was armed and ready.
“Sure, I was mad at him too. He lied to me. For years.”
The waiter slid between two tables and set down two steaming coffees in front of them. Then he disappeared again. Maxine cupped her hands around the mug, just like she used to do at home, letting the warmth seep into her fingers. Bending down to blow across the top of the liquid, Lucy tried to take a sip, but the coffee was still too hot. She pushed the cup away and waited.
“He lied to you about everything.”
“Not exactly.”
With a shuddering breath, Lucy closed her eyes. She did not want to hear that her mother knew about the attacks—even in a roundabout way. If her mother had an inkling of what the future would bring, Lucy couldn’t handle it. Imagining her mother as the naïve housewife impervious to the truth wasn’t a better alternative. Neither meshed with what she knew of Mama Maxine. Rewriting her father into his new role was bad enough: Lucy couldn’t fathom not having anything remain the same.
“I won’t try to dumb it down for you, Lucy. Okay? Your dad told me that he was working on something top secret. That even telling me that little bit put my life in danger. He said that he sold his soul to save his family, and that I had two choices. Trust him implicitly and live. Or try to go out on my own, with no guarantee of safety.”
“Some choices.”
“Exactly.”
“You never even let on that something bad was happening.”
Maxine shrugged. “I didn’t know a damn thing. I thought your dad was being hyperbolic or paranoid.”
“You were wrong,” Lucy said with bite, but her mother ignored it.
“It’s been known to happen.”
The waiter reappeared without warning and slid a basket of croissants between them. Lucy’s mouth began to salivate at the sight of the bread and she reached out and grabbed one, shoving the warm pieces of flaky dough into her mouth. She noticed he had also brought butter and Lucy’s eyes widened. She dipped a piece in butter and swallowed it down with minimal chewing. She went back for another.
“Are you ready to order?” the boy asked.
Lucy, her mouth full, turned to the boy and stared at him. She was suddenly full of questions.
“Who are you?” she asked him. And when the boy didn’t answer, Lucy set the rest of her croissant down and turned her body to face him. He shifted away, his eyes scanning the other tables, perhaps hoping for some reprieve. “Where did you come from?”
Maxine put her hand across the table and tapped twice, but Lucy ignored her mother’s not-so-subtle plea.
“Floor D?” the boy answered. “Did you know what you want to eat?”
“Are you a waiter robot?” she asked. “Another one of my dad’s science experiments? Did they breed you in this dome?”
“Excuse me?” his voice shook a bit.
She slid forward in her chair. “I mean, I asked where you came from and you said floor six…and you just want to serve me food. But what about before? West Coast? East Coast? Is your whole family here in this place? Where were you the day of the virus and the bombs?”
“Lucy—” Maxine’s voice was full of warning.
“I just want to know. Because I can’t stop thinking about it and why is everyone else acting like the world hasn’t ended?”
“Lucy. Larkspur. King. You are embarrassing yourself.”
“Should I come back?” the boy asked Maxine and she nodded and was off like a shot, shoving his tablet into his apron and walking toward double-doors that led to what Lucy presumed was the kitchen.
“You want me to play nice, but I don’t even know what’s going on, Mom. You want me to be happy that I’m here, but I don’t know what here is! Who are these people?”
“Survivors.”
“This place comes with its own waiters?”
“They are here just like you and me.”
“Do they know Dad killed their families?” Lucy hissed.
Maxine stood up and smoothed out her dress. Then she walked calmly over to Lucy and leaned close. She was so close that Lucy could feel her hot breath like a punctuation mark against her face. “As your mother, who loves you and lost her mind waiting for your return, I am begging you to shut up. Shut up. Please, please,” Maxine was near tears, her eyes pleading. “We are here for a brunch. I had to make some trades and deals to get us in the Sky Room today…because I needed it to be special. I want something to be special for you. Do not make a scene. Please, listen, do not do this.” Lucy had seen her mother angry, worried, frustrated, and irate. She had followed her mother’s moods like star signs in a book. But if there was one emotion Maxine banished from her life it was panic. And yet, behind her eyes, just below the surface of calm, cool, and collected, there was an undercurrent of that banished emotion.
“What happens here?” Lucy asked in a whisper. She looked at her mother’s skin, soft and creamy without a stitch of makeup; then she looked down at the green tiled floor. “Why are you afraid?”
“I will not lose you again,” Maxine said softly and she tried to place her hand on Lucy’s shoulder, but she shied away.
“Why are you afraid?” Lucy repeated.
“I’m not afraid,” Maxine sighed. “I’m cautious and I’m not careless. I know who I’m dealing with, and I’m being smart. And you should be too. This is our entire future.”
Then she stepped backward and stretched, crossing her arms over her body. She had fortified herself against anything else Lucy was going to lob at her—her eyes narrowed, her body was grounded—but there were just enough cracks showing that Lucy felt all her fight leave her.
When her mother’s emotions were already heightened, it didn’t take much to trigger an even greater storm. Whatever her mother felt about this place, she wasn’t going to divulge it to Lucy in the middle of the Sky Room.
Without comment, Lucy grabbed the paper menu and scanned the brunch items. Pancakes and scones, French toast, eggs. She wondered at the food supply and how the restaurant operated. She wondered many things, but she was afraid her questions would set her mother on a rampage. So, she filed them away.
The young waiter returned. And they ordered. Just like they would have a few months ago, at a real restaurant, above ground.
“Thank you,” the boy replied without making eye contact and Lucy watched as he flitted about to the other tables. Maybe he had been a waiter before the Release; was he just continuing his role in a new place? A new world? Same life, new place. Something about that notion depressed Lucy.
What was the point of surviving if everyone kept falling back into the ruts of their old life?
A murmur spread among the diners and Lucy looked up and saw Huck, with Gordy and Blair, enter the Sky Room. Her eyes followed as the trio was led to a table in the corner. They sat and arranged themselves, and like a wave, the others in the room began to take note of their presence—chatting in more hushed tones, leaning into the tables, nodding in their direction. The shift in energy was clear.
Blair held her body straight and tall, holding herself up with perfect posture.
It was as if she was a marionette and the puppeteer from above was pulling her string taut and rigid. At any moment a string could break and Blair’s body would tumble into a heap. The young woman brushed a piece of hair off her forehead and smiled at her brother and her father, then leaned in and laughed.
It was like she knew she was being watched. Every action was for show.
The sight of her made Lucy’s skin crawl, her heart rate increase, and her breath become shallower. She instantly felt a pain in her chest; without thinking about it, she brought her hands up to her chest and monitored the rise and fall of her breathing. Her mind wanted to put her back in the tank with the waters rising, submerging her, but Lucy pushed it away—Blair was irrevocably tied to her memories of drowning. That pain was stamped on her brain and Lucy tried to push away the growing anxiety.
Huck scanned the room, waving at the people and smiling. He made eye contact with Lucy, and she dropped her hands from her chest and blushed, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He nodded deeply to her, acknowledging her presence with solemn reverence. All eyes in the Sky Room turned to Lucy, eager to see who was deserving of Huck’s focused attention: including Blair, whose demeanor shifted, her smile faded.
Hoping that everyone would look away, Lucy bent her head downward and counted to ten before gaining enough confidence to resume normalcy. She wrung her hands in her lap and wished she could just disappear from this place.
A hush passed over the room.
“Why is everyone looking at me?” Lucy asked her mother without looking up.
“Because Huck Truman made a display that he knows you personally. Because you’re important.”
Lucy wanted to cry. “Important?” her voice cracked. She braved the embarrassment and looked up at her mother, whose own face mirrored Lucy’s uncomfortable demeanor.
“Shortly after we arrived, Huck put the System on lockdown. Either you’re in here and you’re safe or you’re out there and you are on your own. There were a few people who missed their planes or families, like ours, who were separated. Huck made a big show that he would deny them entrance. Now, no one ever showed up…that we know of. Until you. And then people found out about the tanks,” Maxine grimaced at the vague reference to Blair’s attempted murder. “The circumstances surrounding your arrival are causing a stir. And Huck doesn’t like unknown variables. Dissent isn’t acceptable.”
The System (Virulent Book 2) Page 16