He clasped his hands behind his back. Regardless of how this entitled little girl intended to take her shots at him, he wouldn’t lose his temper, nor would he dignify her remarks with a response.
“Well first of all, you can look more respectable. I told you there were suits available to you and I hoped you would find the set of clippers alongside them and give yourself a haircut. It’s time for you to get camera-ready.”
Despite his attempt to remain stoic, Lewis’ jaw hung agape. “Cut my own hair? You want the Head of State to have a buzz cut?”
When he had sealed himself in the State House, he had only thought about his medical needs. Now, this containment seemed so much worse. How could the Head of State demand respect without a proper haircut? Did the High Council even care if the people respected him?
He unhooked his rigid jaw and looked back at the camera. “I know I have been abandoned in the dome, but I at least should keep some sense of dignity. Will the people recognize me as a person of authority if I maintain such a low standard with my appearance? Why should I bother wearing a suit if I’m going to shave my head?”
Her expression remained neutral, almost bored as she spoke: the first resemblance she had displayed to her grandmother. “Lewis, it’s what all civilians will soon be doing. We sent most of the barbers off to the colony. Even if we hadn’t, it sends a message. Nothing will appear bleaker than an entire civilization with shaved heads. Trust me, your suit will distinguish you, especially since each civilian in the mountain will soon wear the same jumpsuit.”
He peered at the monitor sideways. “Entire civilization?”
“Yes, Lewis. In fact, I will shave my head right now if it will make you feel better. It will soon be required of all citizens to conserve soap and diminish the need for hair tools, which will free up additional labor. This will, of course, all be blamed on the rebellion. If only they weren’t so greedy we would have two planets to call home. But now we have nothing more than this mountain.”
Nausea rolled through his core. “Has the High Council done this before? The shaved heads? It seems a bit over the top.”
She smiled coyly. “Not since the beginning, when we were first assembled in the mountain. We did this when tempers started to flair, when people felt it was time to leave the mountain. I am only going from our historical records, but it appears it was rather effective. We may stick with it permanently after this as a means to prevent future uprisings.”
“Historical records?” He perked up. “I’ve noticed I can’t even find out who the Head of State was before Victor.”
She furrowed her brow at him. “Lewis, I hoped you were a little brighter than this. Of course, we have two different databases. The High Council always documents each culling, each tactic we try against the rebellion, and especially if anything or anyone slips past us. How else do you expect us to maintain our power if we can’t learn from our past? In fact, we have become so proficient we may not need another culling. Ever.”
He nodded, and his eyes darted away from the camera. The more he talked to Devina, the less he wanted to take part in his new role.
“You said I need to be camera-ready?”
She perked up. “Yes. We have written your first address. You need to shave your head—it’s best you are the first and lead the way—and dress in an ill-fitting suit. Whenever you’re ready, find the controls in your tablet and activate the broadcasting system. It will broadcast both inside the dome and mountain. It’s time to introduce you to our people.”
The monitor flashed and faded to black. He sat momentarily paralyzed at the gravity of the situation. It was so extreme. So evil. Part of him wanted to fight her instructions, yet he didn’t know what he would be fighting for.
There was nothing left.
He’d lost Freya, his sense of purpose, his barber, and his way of life. Looking back, he knew the path the State had led him down was always leading here. Unlike most citizens, he could cook for himself, perform general maintenance, understand the Security systems, and how to go without them. Each of his missions until the one with Freya was to train him to live in isolation, and he wasn’t the only one. All Heads of State were former military, and all military were trained as potential Heads of State.
Lewis stepped toward the apartment where the suits hung limply in the wardrobe. Judging by the layer of dust coating the black jacket, he figured this had been Victor’s apartment, and no one had bothered clearing out his effects once Freya took his seat.
He dropped the musty jacket onto the bed and reached up and felt around on the shelf above the jackets for the pair of hair clippers. With a deep breath, he gritted his teeth and headed into the small bathroom, found a power outlet and stared at himself in the mirror.
During his time in isolation, his hair had grown shaggy, longer than it had ever been. He didn’t know what would send a more dismal message: shaving his head or leaving it as is. Both communicated how bleak their lives had become.
With a flick of the small switch, the clippers sprung to life. The loud groaning noise indicated they were off balance and needing maintenance. Yet it was all he had. He lifted the agitating blades to his scalp and dug right in at his hairline. Thick tufts of his salt and pepper hair fell unceremoniously onto his shoulders, the floor, and the sink in front of him.
He looked in the mirror once he finished, hardly recognizing the man looking back at him. His face looked gaunt from the menial portions he received in isolation. The wrinkles and gray hair that had sprung into existence in the time since he parted ways with Freya was astonishing. It felt like he spent an eternity in that apartment, yet he wondered if his rapid aging had any correlation with time passed.
Regardless of how he got to this point in time, he had no choice but to fulfill his role. After a quick shower to remove his fallen hair, he dressed in the ill-fitting suit, surprised at the constriction of buttoning the white shirt to his throat. He wondered how the former Heads of State before Freya had tolerated spending so much of their life in clothing, which made him feel like he could choke.
He had no idea what was in this address, but no part of him looked forward to it. This wouldn’t be a momentous moment in his life, but the beginning of his end. It was time to face his fate.
Without further hesitation, he took a seat behind his desk and looked through his tablet until he found the speech. He couldn’t bring himself to care enough about this moment in time to feel excited or nervous. He let the numbness consume him as he activated the monitor and looked at the light, his speech displayed below.
“Greetings citizens of the State,” Lewis began. “It is with a heavy heart and under unfortunate circumstances that I accept my position as the new Head of State. I regret to inform you that we have suffered monumental loss at the hands of the rebellion.”
There was instruction on the teleprompter for him to pause and look reflective. He didn’t need the prompt; the situation spoke for itself. Freya was gone. He killed a member of the High Council in cold blood. He shouldn’t be sitting in this seat.
“Our people, our nation, has experienced a travesty that no words can describe. We have all sacrificed for the colony world, and now it has been taken from us. The rebellion took the atrium by force, rendering our transport device unusable. I grieve for the future of our people as I struggle to accept that fact.
“We were on the cusp of change, working together to create a better world for all of us, but instead, we are being sent back to the beginning. It appears that history has repeated itself. We have been beaten, damaged, and left behind.”
He paused again as directed, looking down.
“The colony world, unfortunately, was not all that they took from us. During the attack, the dome was damaged. If you are still living under the dome, I assure you, we have taken the proper precautions to ensure your safety. There is no cause for panic as we have sealed the area. But, because of the damage to the dome, most of you have been evacuated to the mountain.”
&
nbsp; He paused again, the Teleprompter encouraging him to let his eyes mist with tears if he was able. His eyes remained dry.
“It is my deepest regret to inform you that our beloved leader, our Head of State who tirelessly devoted her life to serving our people was assassinated at the hands of the rebellion. She had so much passion—a true visionary. Every day she demonstrated her dedication to providing the best life possible for our people. It is my greatest desire to become half as great of a leader as she was.”
He paused as prompted yet wondered how long the High Council intended him to hold his seat. It was possible that this address was it. Maybe they only wanted him to do one broadcast before they terminated his position. The tone of this address had a finality to it that made him wonder.
“Life will not be easy for us in this generation nor the next. We will all have to work together to survive. Our dome is damaged, but also, our diminished population will struggle to meet our minimal living requirements. But one thing I can say for our people is we are resilient. We are survivors. We survived the catastrophe which destroyed most of the human race. We started in the humble mountain where many of you are now, and we built this proud city into a fortress, even expanded our reach to another planet. We may have been beaten by the rebellion, but as long as we band together under a common goal, we will once again survive.”
Chapter 31
Colin
Colin peered around the engine room, then back at Aakil. “I need you to assemble a team—a combination of people smart enough to figure out what everything on that ship does.”
“But I’m the smartest person on this planet. Why would I need a team? Just give me time and I’ll figure it out.”
“We might not have time.” Colin caught the sharpness of his tone and eased off, casting his gaze to the side. “It will go faster with help. Besides, you also need men who are strong enough to help you start to disassemble whatever it is you find in here.”
Aakil furrowed his brows. “Won’t that, uh, interfere with the missus you kidnapped and put into hibernation?”
Colin laughed dryly at his snarky remark. “Not the life support—everything else. I want to know what it is, and what it does. We need to take what we have, and see if it could be used or weaponized, and more importantly, if it needs to be shut down.”
“Shut down?”
Colin nodded, looking somber. “I think the biggest mistake we could make right now would be to assume we’re safe. We don’t know anything about that ship, or what it’s capable of. And we especially don’t know if it’s safe to keep operational.”
Aakil looked at him sideways. “What do you think we’re going to find? The State is too far away to get up to anything… State-like.”
“We don’t know that.”
Aakil nodded. “Yeah, I realized it as soon as I said it.”
“Exactly. What if they have a self-destruct mode built in? We know there was some sort of radio beacon. What if it goes two ways? If the beacon doesn’t receive a message from the home world, then maybe a count down lights up and we all get blown to smithereens?”
“Damn, Colin,” Aakil patted him on the shoulder. “That’s some serious paranoid shit you got running around in that head of yours.”
“We should never underestimate the State. The moment we do, we’re dead.”
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Aakil said. “I mean, you might not be wrong. I think we should get in there and take it apart. Maybe at the least we will find some useful crap.”
A wave of dizziness circled around Colin’s head. He reached out an arm to stabilize his balance. “I could be paranoid, but I would rather be paranoid and alive, then naïve and dead.”
Aakil looked at Colin sideways. “Hey, when did you last eat something?”
Colin waved him off. “I’m fine.”
Aakil gripped his shoulder and pushed Colin toward the ship’s entrance. “Let’s get you something to eat all the same. For my sake. The last time you worked this hard, you snapped and broke my ribs.”
Colin narrowed his eyes. “You’re never going to let that one go, are you?”
“Nope.”
Together, they slowly wandered toward the entrance.
“I guess I deserve that.”
“Yep. You were nuts.”
They approached the doorway and Colin peered down at the large gathering of people bustling around the town square. “Is everyone here getting enough to eat?”
“I think everyone but you.”
Just after they stepped off the ship, Aakil pushed Colin off to the side and cut ahead of the line. Colin peered around their humbly constructed town hall into the main cooking area. The fires were stoked high, dancing above the sides of the enormous cauldrons. Colin waited in the shadows to avoid the crowds as Aakil dished up two bowls of stew. Colin was often too busy to eat, but he also skipped a few meals to avoid the crowds.
It seemed everyone wanted to speak to him, everyone. The general topics varied from praising his bravery to complaining about their living conditions to telling him how romantic they thought it was that he found a way to be reunited with his lost love.
At first Colin had stopped to talk to the odd civilian vying for his attention until he quickly learned that he couldn’t talk to just one. As soon as he stopped, lines always formed behind until they backed him into a corner for the rest of the day. With that kind of attention, it was nearly impossible to get anything done.
He was under so much pressure. There was so much work to do before he could wake Freya. Everyone had to work together to have a harvest he could only hope would last them through their first winter.
Winter, the mere concept, was already his greatest stress.
None of these people had been exposed to the elements before. The State’s historical database had explained that crops were grown in the warm season, then gathered as the leaves changed colors. They had never harvested and stored their food before because the State’s greenhouses were utilized year-round. One simple mistake and the entire crop could be lost, leaving them little to fight off starvation until the next harvest.
There were no idle hands on this colony. People were building, growing, or hunting if they didn’t have a suckling infant. The colonists were well-versed at hard labor, but he often wondered if there were more efficient ways of producing results.
Aakil returned to his side, and they quickly walked past the spacecraft into the trees. They sat on the grass and dug into their meager meals. Colin’s insides instantly warmed at the steaming mix of meat, vegetables, and warm liquid. Their diet had already transformed so much since life under the dome. Some things like roasted meat he enjoyed more than the bland rice and steamed vegetable combination the State always saw fit to sustain them.
There could be times of grand feasts ahead as they experimented with new herbs, vegetables and meats, but they had to make it through this winter first. He feared those simple meals routinely provided by the State may seem like a luxury in no time at all.
After a few thoughtful spoonfuls of his meal, Aakil rested his bowl in the grass. “You know, if you’re really worried about the State using their own ship to wipe us out, then maybe we should completely disassemble it to make sure we don’t miss anything.”
Colin dropped his spoon in the bowl and pushed it off to the side. He had learned that if Aakil had something on his mind; it was always best to just have it out. “Besides the issue that causes with Freya—”
“Yes, we will have to wake up sleeping beauty if we take the ship apart.”
“But what if taking the ship apart triggers whatever could be there?” Colin persisted. “I don’t think the State would have ever intended us to take it apart. They would have wanted to keep it as a monument or convert it to a hospital or something. I think we are better off keeping it intact.”
Aakil snatched up his bowl again but didn’t eat, simply fidgeting with it in his hands instead. “Colin, I don’t doubt that the State knew
that there was a risk of us taking the colony away from them. I truly believe that if they want to take us out, it will come from the skies, not our ride here. I don’t think they would take the risk of the ship having that kind of an explosive: traveling 22 years through space and landing safely was risky enough. I bet there is something in that ship that marks our location and leaving the ship intact means they have a perfect target to fire at 22 years from now.”
Colin’s mouth and throat went dry. He could hear Aakil’s logic, and a slight part even suspected he may be right. But if he woke Freya now, they would still have a hefty age-gap on top of having to deal with the fact he placed her in there to begin with.
There was no way to know what the State had planned, but he knew he would never feel safe, even if they had a proper hospital and enough to eat.
“So, let’s say you’re right. There’s a beacon on the ship that broadcasts our location. Can they do anything with that information from earth? Can they launch a ship and program it to land right beside ours? Or would they use that beacon once they made it into our solar system? Atmosphere?”
Conspired: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The State Series Book 6) Page 20