Radioactive (2 page)

“I am C590. Follow me. I will take you to your unit.”

As he speaks, his eyes are completely motionless, as if frozen. His face betrays no emotion. Even his movements are mechanical as I follow him out of the sickbay.

Apart from the green stripes on the wall, the sickbay does not look any different from any other passageway in the safety zone. It’s cold and empty. . A steel door joins this passageway with another. The lights in the ceiling are so unnatural that I am almost sick of it. The only reason I am looking forward to working in food allocation is because Zoe will be there. She will be pleased to hear from Finn and the others. And I am delighted to be able to speak to another human being. We will be allies. We will not have to carry our secrets any longer. We can share the load and share plans. I’m ready for it.

But as we enter the control room of the food allocation area, I can see it immediately. There are more than twenty tables with PCs and workers, but two chairs are empty. The ones Zoe and I sat in. She is no longer there.

C590 poked his index finger into my back. “Sign up for the service.” He seems upset that he had to ask me to. He feels that I am not functioning as I should, and for that he has no understanding. Does he know at all what happened to me, or does he think I’m just crazy?

“D518 reporting for duty.”

The department head nods to me indifferently. “D375 receives D518.”

That’s the cue for C590 to look into the distance. He has delivered me to my unit and thus his job is done. Even the head of the department is no longer interested in me. Am I expected to remember my responsibilities? Confused I take my place at my former station and let myself sink into my chair. Before me, the screen flickers and shows various crew members. I am responsible for making sure their food rations are correct. But the empty chair next to me remains in my mind. Lost in thought, my hand reaches over to the empty seat. What happened to her? Did she go crazy after her rescue failed? Is she still alive?

I look around the room. Everyone is sitting as though chained to their chair and stares apathetically at the screen in front of them. Did anyone notice that I was gone? Nobody seems the least bit interested in where I was. Not even a curious glance. How can they all be so ignorant? They all cannot be so indifferent. They are people just like me. People feel. That cannot be any different here. I want to shout loudly. I shake, but I control myself. With clenched fists I get up. “I have a question.”

Irritated, D375 raises his eyes. He is not used to being asked questions. “Need some advice?” It sounds as if he doesn’t know what that even is.

“Where is D523?”

Puzzled, he scratches his brow. I can see him trying to analyze my question. He seems to not grasp the concept. “Why are you interested in that?”

I notice now that several others have turned from their screens and are now looking at me shyly. I have their attention. Maybe they think I am insane, but I will not get a better chance than this. This is my chance to reach people.

“D523 is a member of our unit. She is one of us. I worry about here when she is no longer here.”

The department head shakes his head uncomprehendingly. “We are all the same. Everyone is replaceable. D523 is no exception.”

To be equal is not automatically synonymous with replaceable. It is hard to keep myself under control.

“Nobody has asked you what happened to her?” I cry aloud to the room and harvest only blank stares. Will they not understand?

“Has anyone of you noticed that she is gone?”

Despair is now in my voice and I feel that I am close to tears again. My hands are shaking while trying to wipe the tears away.

“D518, it is not your job to question the decisions of the Legion commander. Sit in your place and continue your work or I will inform the guards.”

The threat is over. I am getting frustrated as I sink back into my chair. What shall I do without Zoe? How am I supposed to survive in the safety zone if there is not even another person with whom I could exchange a normal word?

The screen in front of me starts to flash. On eight small windows I see people who are waiting for their food ration. The computer asked me to confirm the predetermined quantities of tablets. But I look at the residents of the safety zone in detail. One of them is from the second generation and is thus one of the elders of the safety zone. In three years, at the exact age of sixty, his life will end. It is a method to control the population density of the safety zone. Earlier, this was normal to me, but now I know that people can be much older. Gustav and Marie were both over sixty and very happy. There is no reason why they should have died at sixty.

The man stands petrified at the food counter. He wonders why his allocation is taking so long. Similarly, the other seven seem to be having the same thoughts. None of them makes a move to press the sensor to request food again or impatiently look into the opening. None of them tap their feet or drum their fingers against the wall. They all stand lifelessly. Their eyes are rigid and their bodies motionless. None of them are like Iris, who was so often pleased to receive pink vitamin tablets. None of them seem capable of feeling pleasure or pain. Although their bodies work, their insides must have died long ago. They are only lifeless shells without a soul. Have they always been so? Most people never saw what I saw, something special in every detail. I paid attention to the little things that hardly anyone else perceived. Perhaps I wanted simply to see more in them than what was there? Or did my time with the rebels dull my ability to look behind the facades of people? Have I become blind to the details?

Without looking, I confirm the computer’s selections. The system does not make mistakes so it is useless to even try looking for one.

After my shift in the food allocation division, I walk through the atrium with its colorful images. Today they show a forest with birds in the branches of trees and deer that peep out here and there behind a tree. Previously, these images impressed me and I would have stopped to admire them. But I have seen a real forest with my own eyes. The pictures in the atrium are just images. No image can evoke the emotions of that overwhelming reality. They are just images. The smell of moss or dirt does not exist in images. Nor does the wind that blows through the leaves or the crunch every step makes. That’s why I do not stop. I am not impressed. So today I sit alone in my cell. The whole safety zone is nothing more than a prison. There are no windows or doors that could be opened without an order from the Legion commander.

While others scurry past me, I look for a familiar face. If I cannot find Zoe, then perhaps I can at least find C515. It would be comforting to see something like recognition in his eyes. I cannot recognize him among the few fighters I have seen. When will the spy the rebels told me about contact me? I had always assumed that he must belong to the C Class. But even if I do find that person, what do I tell him? How will the rebels react when they hear I was not made a Legion commander and that Zoe has disappeared? How will Finn react? Will he try to do something stupid and storm the building alone?

Or perhaps that is the reason I have not been contacted? Did he consider my mission a failure already and decided not to make himself known? Do the rebels think I have become useless to their cause?

Back in my room, I lay down on the bed. I know I will have to put my suit in the laundry and put on my nightgown, but I lack the strength. I have not worked hard, as I had with the rebels. I feel as though I have done nothing all day, yet still feel tired. I just do not know what to do now. I had firmly resolved to adapt myself back to Legion life because there was a goal worth fighting for. The Legion commanders should thank that the rebels mean nothing. The Legion should believe that I am one of them. But I am just as useless to the Legion as I am to the rebels. No one needs me. Why should I be here any longer? Should I continue to maintain this façade?

I can feel the hot tears trickle down my cheeks. My gaze slides to the camera in the right corner of my cell. Tears are prohibited. But what do I want to happen? How can they punish me more? Even if they torture me, I would at least feel as though I am suffering for something worth fighting for. I could do something honorable, but to put me back into my old life and act as though nothing ever happened, that is the worst thing they could do to me. Therefore, I do not care who sees my tears.

The days pass me by without anything changing. Whether I want to or not, I begin adapting to this life. I am doing exactly what the Legion expects of me more than ever. I fulfill my duties without thinking about its meaning. I urge back every emergence of feelings. They only make me weak. Emotions have no place in this world. Emotions are something for those who can afford to have hopes and dreams. A prospect for change, but I know there will be none for me. Cleo is as good as dead. Her life light flickers faintly like the flame of a dying candle. She lives by memories that become weaker by the day. Thanks to the sensors in my bed even my nights are dreamless. The only moment when I admit to myself some weakness is before going to sleep. In the dark of night the desire comes on so strongly that I cannot defend myself against the tears. They glide silently down my face. Often I do not know why I am crying. For Iris? For Finn? For the rebels? Or maybe for the whole world? I loathe my tears because they are useless. Even if I could cry a real ocean, they would not change anything.

On this day I am scheduled for the night shift. Without stopping to waste a look at the false images, I rush to the food allocation department. But once I enter the hall, a person from behind grabs me and cups his hand over my mouth. I freeze and hold my breath. Only now I think back to the rebel’s contact. Has he not given up on me?

The stranger pulls me into a dark corner of the hallway where the cameras cannot see us. The hand breaks away from my mouth and I turn around expectantly. The sight of the man irritates me. I would not have expected him. It is C515. His mouth twists into a smile.

I can no longer hold back and I fall upon his chest. Loud sobs penetrate from my mouth. To see a smile in the safety zone overwhelmed me. I had no hope of seeing him or Zoe ever again. I had given up and then what? He stands before me and smiles. Where did he learn how to smile? I always knew he was different, but I had no idea how much.

He pushes me off his chest determinedly and looks into my eyes. “Meet me at three o’clock in front of the sickbay.”

I do not understand his words. Why? But before I could ask, C515 leaves. What happened to him? Why is he smiling? Is he the rebel’s contact? Was he ever one of them? Was he a rebel long before I ever knew about them? I grew up with C515, how can it be that he knows so much more than I?

W
hile working in the food allocation division, not a minute passes without a glance to the clock. I cannot wait to see C515. Why does he want to meet in front of the sickbay? Does he want to show me something?

Just the thought of him makes my mind race. Why did he make me wait so long? Perhaps he could not have picked a better time to come into my life. He seems like a bright spot in the darkness. Finally, I am no longer alone. Maybe he can tell me about Iris and the others.

At 2:55 I get out of my chair and march toward D375. Impatiently he raises his eyes at me and suspects something bad.

“What do you want?” He asks me harshly.

“I need to go to the toilet.”

“It’s not the right time for it.”

He has furrowed his brow so that his eyebrows are almost touching one another.

“I have to go anyway, I can feel it.”

“I’ll have to report you to the Legion commanders. Your behavior is striking and alarming.”

“Then report me. This does not change the fact that I now have to use the toilet.” I reply impatiently.

He seems unsure of what to do next. My unexpected behavior challenges his authority. The other workers in the room are already giving us looks. They’re afraid of me.

“Then go to the toilet. If you’re not back in five minutes, I’ll call the guards.”

Without considering him further, I press the scanner at the door, it says, “Unplanned leaving the workplace. Confirmation requested.”

I bite my lip, annoyed with D375. He walks next to me. “I am the head of this department. You are under my supervision,” he says and puts his finger on the scanner.

At that moment I realize I was wrong. People do still have feelings. The department manager clearly perceived triumph. He is proud of his position.

“Confirmation granted,” the computer voice says as the steel doors slide aside. I step out into the hall in a hurry and hear D375 call after me, “Five minutes.”

I quickly run to the sickbay. I hope I’m not too late. When I arrive at the green door, C515 is nowhere to be seen. Is something wrong? Panicked, I look around. What if he does not come? If I stay longer than five minutes, the head of the department will call the guards and they will lock me away. Then I will have no way to talk to C515. I need to know what he wanted to tell me. Suddenly I hear a noise behind me from inside the sickbay. Frightened, I stand at the door and think about what to do now. If someone other than C515 steps out and seems me standing there in my brown suit, they will want to know what I am doing there. What shall I say? The excuse of needing to use the toilet will only cause a stir. We follow a schedule. Everything in our lives is planned, even going to the toilet. I quickly run and hide down the corridor. I hear the sickbay door slide open. I listen to the silence. I see no one.

My heart skips a beat when I hear a small voice, “D518?”

I leave my hiding place and rush at C515. It was he who just exited the sickbay.

“I was scared you wouldn’t come.”

“We do not have much time,” he urges. He reopens the sickbay door with his fingerprint on the scanner. He is in a hurry.

“For what?”

“Zoe wants to see you.”

“She’s here?” I exclaim delightedly. C515 looks back at me, panic in his face.