When Stars Go Out

by Grey, Ransom;

  They turned up the North Stairs, fighting their way against the crowd that was still pouring down.

  “Okay,” Reagan began, “So obviously we’re here. You have to know a little of what’s going on, right?”

  “Unfortunately,” Reed growled under his breath.

  Reagan continued, apparently missing Reed’s remark. “Well, after GRO—you know that’s what they call this—the government put us in these different compounds in cities around the country. But, since they couldn’t keep up with everything themselves, they came up with the idea of putting a six-member ‘council’ over every compound. They make rules, punish anybody who breaks them, create the jobs—you know, what you’d expect. But it’s not like a city council or board of directors; they’re government people. It’s… different. Very different.”

  Reagan’s voice dropped. “Reed, they’re powerful, incredibly powerful. They rule whole cities, not just the compounds. They’re part of GRO so they’re technically a government agency, but they’re almost… autonomous. They have their own offices, boards, police forces, whole bureaucracies. Nobody checks up on them; nobody knows what all they do; nobody even knows how big they really are. The one here keeps the mayor and city council under their thumb. Nobody stands up to them. Even Director Connors can’t attend their meetings.”

  By now, they’d reached the dorm and began climbing the stairs. Though there was practically no one else around, Reagan still kept his voice low, almost whispering. “They run everything, and they’ve hired everyone—Director Connors, the RDs, the Mushroom workers, the bus drivers, the police. They don’t even come to the Dorms themselves anymore. They let the RDs and Connors take care of most of the discipline issues. But, when they do step in, it’s bad. If somebody gets called before the Council, they’re in serious trouble. And I mean serious.”

  “What happens to them?” Reed swallowed back the growing uneasiness in his stomach before it could creep up into his voice.

  “Supposedly, they get deported to another city, but I don’t believe it. It’s too quiet and hush-hush. Besides, after they get arrested, we never hear from them again. Like, ever.”

  “Sometimes, they don’t even get arrested,” Riley put in. “There was that one kid who tried to break into one of their offices once. He just disappeared.”

  “Yeah, he never even made it out of the building.”

  By now, they were back in their room, brushing their teeth at the sink. Reagan had to stop talking since his mouth was full but, as soon as he could, he continued. “Be careful what you say around other people, too. The Council has ears everywhere. Don’t complain too much or say anything bad about them or even mention what you think of them. It could make things… unpleasant.” He paused. “Sometimes they put spies right in the Dorms with us. We call ’em ‘ringers.’ We’re not supposed to know they exist, but we usually figure it out. I don’t know of any right now, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t at least one. You have to be careful.” He snapped the cap back on his toothpaste.

  “This is crazy! Councils? Spies? People disappearing? It sounds like a creepy Netflix show.” Reed stood in the middle of the room, trying to process it all.

  “It’s not a joke.” Reagan dried his hands on a towel and turned to face Reed. “It’s the new reality. But we’re just telling you the worst so you’ll know how things work. For the most part, if you do what you’re supposed to, they leave you alone. You can actually have a pretty good life here. Just watch what you do and say.”

  “Oh.” Reed rubbed the back of his neck. “Would it be considered ‘serious’ to… well… give a little attitude to the Director?”

  “Not usually serious,” Reagan shrugged, tossing his toothbrush into a nightstand drawer. “I guess it depends on what you say. He might watch you closer for a while but, if you shape up, he’ll let you alone.” He shoved the drawer shut with his knee. “Why? Did you?”

  “Well, I didn’t say anything wrong, but he didn’t seem to like my tone very much.” Reed paused. “Okay, so he didn’t like it at all.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” counseled Riley. “Like Reagan said, he’ll watch you for a while but, as long as you don’t do it again, you’re okay. You’d know by now if you weren’t.”

  When they finished in the room, the three left the dorm and turned back down the North Stairs. In the parking lot of the Mushroom, they found a large crowd of teenagers standing in the cold, stamping their feet and rubbing their hands for warmth.

  “This is where the shuttles come,” explained Reagan as they joined the waiting group. “They can’t fit them all anywhere else, so we have to wait out here… and cuss if it’s raining.”

  Reed pulled his jacket closer around him. “So there’s more than one bus?”

  “Yeah, just the Red Route by itself—our ride—has six buses. Then there’s Blue Route and Green Route. Blue has six, but Green has eight. They’re only for workers in the industrial parks since they can’t hold all the workers for the whole city.”

  “Wait, so how many of these parks are there?”

  While they waited for their ride, Reed got a crash course in city geography. There were three industrial parks in town. Red, his district, was a short distance from the Dorms and was home to two factories and their offices. The Blue district was nearby and also held two factories. Green, on the other side of town, had only one factory.

  Reed shook his head. “I don’t get it. How did one town get so many factories? I mean, isn’t five a little over the top?”

  “Not really.” Reagan set his briefcase down and breathed on his fingers. “When you think about all the people that have to work here, it’s a wonder there aren’t more. This is one of the biggest compounds in the country; last I heard, there were over five thousand kids in the Dorms alone.”

  Reed stared at him. “Five thousand? That’s bigger than some towns I know!”

  “Yep. And that’s just in the Dorms. A bunch more have moved out of the dorms into apartments—sorta on their own but still on the Hill.”

  “The Hill?”

  “Yeah. That’s what they call the whole complex—dorms, apartments, the Mushroom, even the factories. It’s all collectively ‘the Hill.’”

  Reed made a note of that. “So they picked this city to dump us ’cause it had so many jobs?”

  “Nope. The Council brought them all in. That’s what they do.”

  Just then, a long line of blue buses roared into view from the city below. One after another, they rumbled into the parking lot, stopping with a familiar hiss, until nine of them sat idling in front of the crowd. More waited behind them on the street, stretching around the corner and down the hill.

  There were so many. Reed would have been completely lost without his roommates. Reagan and Riley didn’t hesitate, pulling him into the crowd past the first three rumbling giants. A screen above the windshield on each declared its route, proclaiming “Green” or “Blue” high above Reed’s head in yellow letters.

  The crowd split up and surged toward the different shuttles. The first “Red” was filled by the time the boys reached it. Reagan and Riley turned and made a rush for the second with a flood of other teens.

  “Make sure you stick with us,” Reagan called to Reed. “We’ll make sure you get to the right place!”

  Reed stuck to them as best he could. He squeezed through packed bodies following Riley’s back. He saw Reagan ahead of him elbow his way to the door and up the stairs. Good, he was getting close. Riley was next. He slipped between two shoulders and went up after Reagan, almost stepping on someone’s hand. Reed pushed someone else’s elbow out of his ribs and put his foot on the step. But, just then, a stout girl shoved her way in, deliberately bumped Reed back with her weight, and heaved up the stairs after Riley. Before Reed could recover his balance, the doors, with a warning beep, slid shut.

  He turned desperately to the window. Reagan jabbed his finger toward the next bus over. Reed nodded and made a dash. The crowd was alr
eady funneling through the narrow door, but Reed was determined. He wriggled his way in like a mole. There was no way he was going to miss this one.

  Chapter 4

  He didn’t miss it. With a little elbow work, he maneuvered his way neatly onboard and found a window seat near the front. He wished he hadn’t had to squeeze next to a sleepy boy who smelled of hairspray and oatmeal, but at least he made it.

  Once the bus was full, it jerked into motion and swung around, following a string of others out of the parking lot and down the hill. Reed blew out his breath and leaned back in his seat, staring out the window. What a morning.

  The weather had not improved much since the day before. Though the drizzle had stopped, the sky still hung leaden gray over the city. Reed wondered if the sun ever came out in this part of the world.

  The sleepy boy didn’t seem communicative, which suited Reed just fine. Nursing his sore shin and burned tongue, he looked out the window. In less than ten minutes, the bus rolled to a stop in front of a gated entryway. A small, brick guardhouse stood between black iron gates that swung open when the bus approached. Bold, black letters proclaiming “Red Industrial Park” marched across the brick wall. Beyond, the entry drive split, one road curving left and the other right.

  Reed unloaded from the shuttle and managed to find his roommates in the crowd.

  “You shoulda tripped her,” were Reagan’s first words. “If she wanted to play dirty, it could’ve gone both ways.”

  “I thought about it,” Reed muttered, “but she would’ve broken my leg if she fell on it.”

  Reagan laughed.

  As the buses roared away, the workers streamed through the open gates. Reed followed his roommates until Reagan stopped at the Y in the road.

  “Well, here we are. Riley and I go to the right; you go to the left. We’ll meet here after we get off and ride back together, okay? Good luck!” He and Riley disappeared into the crowd moving up the road to the right.

  Reed turned the other way. A large cement sign bearing the company name pointed up the road. With a sigh, Reed trudged in that direction, wishing he was going anywhere else.

  The road curved through a cluster of small, manmade hills, and the factory was invisible from this point of view. Reed followed the winding roadway through the gentle slopes of dead, manicured sod and bare landscaping until he rounded the last corner. The factory loomed before him. It wasn’t the run-down, dirty place out of a Dickens novel he’d been subconsciously expecting. It actually looked very new, very large, and very expensive. He gazed in awe at its forest of shiny black smokestacks, rows of silver generators, and soaring chrome entry as he followed the stream of workers down a final slope and through the main entrance.

  In the lobby, a girl stood behind the front desk, taking off her coat. The rest of the crowd poured through a set of doors in the far wall and left them alone. Reed hesitated. With a gulp, he approached. She tossed her smooth, blonde hair behind her shoulders as she settled behind the desk and smiled up at him.

  “Umm…” he ventured, leaning his hands against the counter and swallowing again, “I think I’m supposed to work here. What do I need to do?”

  The girl’s smile broadened. “Oh, yes! We’ve been expecting you for a few days. I can get you checked in right now. Do you have your ID?”

  Reed shook his head. “No, just my red tag thingy.”

  “Perfect! That’s all I need.” She scanned it into the computer. After a moment of rapid typing, she turned back to him, all business. “All your information is in the company’s files now. Most of your paperwork came in last night but, if you’ll sign this one form, you’ll be all set.”

  He signed the page she handed across the desk and shoved it back. She glanced down at it and smiled. “Your station is in Room Two, Packing Conveyer B. Take the first hall on the right after you leave the lobby. Room Two will be the second door on your left.” Her professional smile became kinder, and she added, “I really hope the rest of your day goes all right. The first day is always a tough one, but you’ll make it.”

  Reed paused as he took his red tag from the desk and looked into her face. She had bright blue eyes that seemed warm and friendly in the echoing chill of the empty lobby. He smiled back. “Thanks. I think I’ll make it just fine.”

  But as he left the lobby and took the first hallway on his right, he began to doubt his own words. Worry crept into the pit of his stomach. This was almost like his first day of high school, and that had not gone so well.

  “Relax,” he told himself, “there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

  He found Room Two easily. Taking a deep breath, he turned the door handle and pushed; it was locked. He stepped back, glancing around, and spied a card reader next to the handle.

  “Idiot,” he mumbled, “you could have guessed that.”

  He held his red tag under the reader’s beam. It beeped and the lock clicked. He slipped his tag back into his pocket and opened the door.

  He found himself in a huge room with steps dropping down to a concrete floor. Massive steel beams shot across the high ceiling, and half a dozen giant conveyer belts, dotted with machines, covered most of the floor. The day’s work had not yet begun, and workers stood in little knots in the aisles.

  Reed descended into the room and walked past the first belt. A large letter “A” swung over it, suspended from the ceiling. “B” hung over the next one down. He approached.

  The workers gathered around the belt didn’t seem to notice him until he came nearer. Then one looked up, and they all stopped talking and turned.

  Reed felt his face get hot. Why do they have to stare? He cleared his throat. “Is this Conveyer B?”

  “Yes,” said one of the girls.

  That was all. Reed hated this. “Oh. Well, I think I’m supposed to work here.”

  The effect was amazing. One of the girls squealed, “Yyyeeessss!” loudly and then slapped a hand over her mouth. Everyone else began high-fiving each other and chattering all at the same time.

  “Finally!”

  “Took ’em long enough!”

  Reed stood where he was, unsure if this was a good development. Thankfully, one of the boys noticed his predicament and waved him over. “Hi! Come get settled in.”

  Reed came. The young man motioned him to an empty space next to him. “Here you go; this station’s empty. Sorry about the interesting welcome. We’ve been short one person for several weeks, and we had to work extra to make up for it. They’re excited ’cause now we can catch up on our quota.”

  “I see,” said Reed, setting his lunch by his feet. The other workers had returned to their former conversations and seemed to have forgotten him. Turning to the friendly young man, Reed introduced himself. “Well, I’m Reed.”

  “Nice to meet you, Reed. I’m Nathan. I guess we’ll be neighbors from now on.”

  “Great. So what exactly are we doing?”

  “We’re packing computer parts for shipment to different assembly plants,” Nathan explained as he unzipped and pulled off his apple-green hoodie. “It’s not hard; I’ll show you how when they turn on the belt. You just—”

  Before he could finish, a whistle shrieked somewhere in the building. There was a click, and the belts began to hum and creep forward. A rhythmic whine began, punctuated by steady beeps and picking up tempo as the belts gained speed. The workers scattered and situated themselves in their stations. When the first of the plastic gray parts rolled down the belt, the first girl picked it up and went to work deftly. Likewise, the second and the third. Nathan took the one that should have been Reed’s and showed him how to wrap the part and put it in a small cardboard box for shipping. All these were stacked in larger boxes and set on short belts that ran out through the opposite wall.

  Reed was quick and, though his first attempt at wrapping didn’t look as good as Nathan’s, it was successful. His second was better.

  After the first half hour, Reed had the hang of it enough to pay attention to wh
at was going on around him. While they worked, the teens talked. With the droning of the belts, it was impossible to be heard at normal voice level except by those right next to the speaker but, if one shouted, those on the opposite side of the circle could hear fairly well.

  Once Reed had his routine down, his coworkers began to ply him with questions.

  “So what’s your name?” someone called from across the circle.

  “Reed!” he shouted back.

  “Where’re you from?” someone else asked.

  “California.”

  “Ah!” exclaimed everyone, and they began peppering him with more questions.

  “Did you live in Hollywood?”

  “Did you know any movie stars?”

  “Did you go surfing, like, every day?”

  The door to the room closed heavily. Instantly, the questions stopped, and everyone bent over their jobs with unexpected attention. Reed paused and looked up in surprise. He caught sight of a man, hands clasped behind him, coming slowly down the stairs, running his eyes over everything in the giant room. Reed picked up the next part and started back to work, watching out of the corner of his eye.

  The man reached ground level and passed the first few conveyer belts, looking down the rows of working teens. He paused by one of the machines and checked the parts coming out from under it. Then he examined a stack of boxes ready for shipment. He turned and paced back toward the front of the room, watching. He came straight toward Conveyer B. All the workers kept their eyes down.

  The man reached the belt and circled the group. The sound of his measured footsteps on the concrete was almost lost in the drone of machinery. Reed watched the glossy black shoes make their way past each worker. They came closer; they were behind him. They stopped. Reed felt eyes on the back of his neck, boring into him. A cold prickle tingled between his shoulder blades, and he almost dropped his part.

  The man didn’t move for a moment. He said nothing. Then Reed saw the shoes turning away, moving toward the door. Without a word, the man mounted the stairs and left the room.