The Forbidden Zone (3 page)

I had expected the elevator to rise, but it instead descended at a sickening speed which made me almost revisit my last meal. The growling of my stomach indicated I was hungry, but I was honestly too intimidated to ask if there was a cafeteria in the building.

The elevator doors opened to reveal another white corridor. I knew we had to be several floors underground, and a large Valerian number—minus nineteen—confirmed my suspicions. The Ice Queen waved her hand and a door slid open. Door nineteen. Well, at least I knew it would be easy to remember. Floor Nineteen, Room Nineteen.

If I had thought the room aboard the ship had been stark, my room set whole new levels of austerity. It was about eight feet square, lined with the same melamine-coated walls as the lab, but in black. Some kind of pod, ostensibly designed for sleeping, rose up from the floor. That was it.

I turned to ask the Ice Queen about food, but she was gone. The door slid back into place and I found, to my disappointment, that it would not open. I felt instantly claustrophobic, like a prisoner being held against their will. I remember thinking that the Valerians had a lot of work to do on their manners.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a female voice spoke to me. "Welcome, Earth visitor." The voice seemed to come from the walls and I realized it must be the Sisters A.I. "Is there anything you need?"

"Yeah, I'm starving," I said.

"You have missed standard Feeding Time, though I see in your log that it was through no fault of your own. I will dispense a protein bar that will fulfill your hunger until breakfast." A small section of the wall vanished and a wrapped protein bar dropped from a chute. I reached forward and picked it up, tearing open the wrapper like a wild animal and ripping off a chunk with my teeth as the wall reappeared. The tasteless bar was gone in seconds. I dropped the wrapper in what looked like a trash receptacle and watched as it simply vanished.

"Curfew is in effect. Therefore, please rest in your pod until 009056. You will be roused. Tomorrow's schedule is as follows:

009057: Shower

010789: Feeding Time

011647: Lab Time

012632: Knowledge Time

013678: Lab Time

068993: Reflection Time

089075: Curfew

090000: Sleep

I lamented the singular feeding time as my stomach growled, wondered what on Earth the time system meant, and skeptically considered what Knowledge Time and Reflection Time might entail. I also took notice to the camera in the corner, watching my every move.

"Um, Sisters?"

"Yes?"

"Is the camera going to watch me... all the time?"

"Yes, off-worlder. It is for your safety. Covering or impeding the camera's function in any way will incur one penalty point."

I wanted to ask what the penalty points meant, but I had a good idea, and didn't want to arouse suspicion by asking. I wasn't exactly pleased about the concept of getting undressed in front of the camera so that government eyes could titter at my anatomy, however. It shouldn't have been such a big problem, as I had been naked in the cryogenic chamber, but for some reason, it really bothered me. I wanted to be alone, in a world that wouldn't allow it, and I felt violated. Spied upon. Imprisoned. How did the Valerians live in a place like this?

I looked around for sleep clothes, but there were none. Figuring my privacy was forfeit anyway, I stripped out of the jumpsuit and abandoned it on the floor. I opened the pod. It was designed much like a stasis chamber, only without the liquid and sensors. I lowered myself into it and the lid slid shut. The lights in the room outside dimmed and went out. It was warm inside the pod, but somehow I missed blankets. I wanted to snuggle up underneath something, instead of lying here exposed in a coffin with a glass lid. I needed a security blanket that first night.

I was exhausted, but couldn't sleep. I experienced an intense loneliness that I'd never felt in my life. It took me a moment, but I eventually realized why. On Earth, even though I had never sought out company, it was always available. If I had wanted, I could have traveled to any night spot and picked up a bedfellow or even just someone to talk to. Even if I had never done it, the option was still there. Here, I was forced to be alone. There was nobody to confide in, nobody to chit-chat with, nobody at all. Just me, in solitude, on a distant planet. Locked in a room, naked in a pod, live on camera.

I honestly wondered at that moment what the hell I'd signed myself up for.

I woke to the sound of chirpy elevator music. Even as I remembered the events of the previous day and my current predicament, I couldn't help but laugh that even here, millions of miles away, they still had generic filler tunes. Realizing that I was awake, the Sisters halted the music.

"There has been a change in plan," the Sisters announced as I made my way to the small shower cubicle in the corner. "Today's schedule has been altered. After Feeding Time, you will be meeting a designated guide in front of the building for a city tour at 011647. The tour is expected to take all day. Please ensure you return in time for curfew."

I couldn't help but be pleasantly surprised that somebody had apparently taken an interest in me as more than a cog in the machine. My fears that I was just being assimilated into Valerian society as a drone eased a little as the dispenser fired out a fresh, folded jumpsuit. It wasn't mine—it was grey—but it fit perfectly. I wondered when exactly they'd managed to get my measurements. In the pod? It wouldn't have surprised me in the slightest.

I tried the door to find that it was unlocked. The door slid open and I walked through the opening, glad to be free from my prison at last. Others were standing in front of their doors, and so I copied them, standing still until a buzzer sounded. I imitated the Valerian in front of me, falling in step. There were about thirty of us on the floor, and we had to wait for a second elevator. If there was any disgruntlement about being late for breakfast, nobody showed it. In fact, nobody showed any hint of emotion. That inability to read people's emotions through facial expressions frustrated me at the time. It was so hard to know if I was doing the right thing.

Eventually I boarded the elevator. I looked next to me to see I was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the man who had smiled at me. I expected him to remain rigidly still like all the other drones, but he chanced a quick glance at me. Our eyes met for a second, and in that moment, I saw a whole universe of emotions. Curiosity. Excitement. Fear. Wonder. He snapped back to his emotionless state, but he had answered a bevy of questions and delivered a warning with that glance. Valerians did have curiosity. They did have emotions. They were just too afraid to share them. I knew I was going to have to keep a tight lid on my reactions if I was to avoid offending the powers-that-be.

We made our way into the cafeteria, but it was nothing like I had imagined. I'd thought about something familiar, something from home, with jolly people serving ladles of potatoes and meat. Instead, there were machines that dispensed the allotted protein bars for each individual. I took the bars dispensed to me, disappointed, and took a seat. The smiler took a seat opposite me. With the Valerians milling about and the sound of many voices, as the Valerians seemed to come alive at feeding time, I felt a certain sense of intimacy with the individual sitting across from me. So I asked what I thought would be a simple enough question to break the ice.

"What's your name?"

A thousand drones seemed to stop dead in their tracks and turn to stare at me. I shriveled under the penetrating gaze of so many eyes, wondering what I'd done wrong now. The smiler across from me seemed to blush, if that's what it could be called. The green flecks stood out on his blue skin far more prominently.

"He is an off-worlder. He doesn't know." I wasn't sure if the smiler was defending himself or me. All I knew was that I had made a critical misstep in etiquette that might have put the Valerian in danger. I instantly apologized in the most profuse way the Valerian language would allow, a formal apology reserved for the most grievous of errors, a phrase that I had picked up from the Valerian language database on Earth. It only seemed to make him blush more.

"Nineteen-Nineteen. That is your number, correct?" The Valerian asked.

"My floor and room number, yes," I answered.     

"On Valeria, names are secret. They are never shared. Here in the Science Building, we are known by our room numbers. You would be Nineteen-Nineteen. I am Nineteen Twenty-One."

My heart seemed to skip a beat that his room was only separated by one room in the middle, but I took the lesson on board best I could. The Valerians around us, satisfied with Nineteen Twenty-One's response, went back to their conversations. I don't know why, but I apologized again.

"You don't have to apologize," Nineteen Twenty-One said. "You just need to learn our ways. We assumed, since you seem well-versed in our language, that you already knew."

"On Earth, not much is known about Valerian customs. It is not something you have shared in your transmissions."

"Our way of life is plain. We most likely did not find anything of interest to share. Besides, we have never visited Earth. How would we know that our customs are any different from yours?" His eyes sparkled with a question he dared not ask:
Do you share your names freely on Earth?

"On Earth, it would be considered strange to refer to somebody by a number. Impersonal. We like to name everything and everyone. Places, people, all have names, and all are shared freely."

"They cannot all be named differently. How do you avoid confusion?" Nineteen Twenty-One's curiosity managed to override his fear. Perhaps he realized he could use the excuse that I had initiated the conversation, if he was asked.

"Humans have two names. A first name, and a family name. Sometimes, we do get confused, but it's fairly rare."

"It seems rather inefficient," Nineteen Twenty-One said, in an almost derisive tone, but his eyes bored deep into my soul with a question he would never be allowed to ask in his culture. The same question I had asked him:
What's your name?

A buzzer sounded and he looked away. The chattering crowds fell silent instantly, falling back into line. I let them go, knowing my schedule had me elsewhere. They would go down to the lab and complete a day's work, and I would be whisked away on a tour of the city. I made myself get up from the bench, and I rode the elevator up to the main floor by myself. It felt like an odd moment of freedom, the first I'd had since my arrival. I was surprised they hadn't sent someone to escort me.

The doors to the elevator opened, and I made my way through the decontamination room to the exit. The hot Valerian air hit my skin as I stepped outside of the temperature-controlled lab environment. I looked down the street both ways, seeing concrete in every direction. The purple sky seemed inviting, and a piece of me wanted to make a run for it. I knew I could reach the ship in a day or so of walking. I could make my break for freedom. I could go home.

The only thing that stopped me was the mystery of Nineteen Twenty-One. That look in his eyes. His curiosity. His glance in the elevator. His smile. In a barren, uninteresting world, he was an enigma that I was drawn to. He was reaching out to me. I couldn't run away and leave him here. That reason, above honor, above duty, above the millions they'd spent on this mission back home, was why I stayed.

Just like that, the moment was gone. The doors opened behind me and the Ice Queen stepped out. A vehicle pulled up and its doors slid open automatically. Out of courtesy, I held the door open for the Ice Queen. She regarded me strangely, but climbed into the vehicle and let me follow. The doors slid shut when I let go and the car rolled forward, driven by computer.

The Ice Queen was silent in her seat. I had expected her to point out landmarks and important buildings, but she didn't. After a while, I forgot she was there and studied the landscape with my own two eyes. Two dozen fat concrete obelisks, as wide as they were tall, made up the city, erected in a perfect square. Fields of languid grey corn rose up from fields that were worked only by machines. Nobody walked the city streets. A couple of buses like the one that had brought me from my ship passed us by, but other than that, the city was eerily quiet.

"Does everyone live underground?" I asked.

"Yes."

"What about the children? I haven't seen a single one since I arrived." I hadn't meant to sound suspicious, especially with the cameras in the car eyeballing us, but the thought had occurred to me, and I couldn't help but spit it out.

"They live in the Children's Building, where they are educated as a group by the Sisters." The Ice Queen pointed out a nondescript tower on one corner of the square grid.

"What about their parents or guardians? Do they get to visit their children?"

"Parents? Guardians? I don't know what you mean. Why would we wish to spend time with incomplete vessels?" She seemed a little rattled by my line of questioning and so I decided to drop it, marking it in my mind under that growing folder I labeled "Mysteries". After all, what children grow up without some kind of parental figure? On every world we've visited during the Age Of Discovery, the parent-child bond has been strong. It's a survival mechanism that exists in every species.  It seemed odd to me that these children were seemingly being separated from their birth parents, never to be mentioned again. Could it be that Valeria was the first planet we'd found where childhood nurturing did not occur?

The Ice Queen's words brought to mind an image of children being reared in a loveless environment, trained by computer to adhere to the rules. It did explain why the Valerians seemed so distant. Nothing in their culture promoted the idea of emotional responses to their environment. I suspected sociologists would be making a move to study Valerian children once their customs became more well-known.

I decided to change my line of questioning to something more benign. Every mystery requires information in order to be solved, and sometimes the smallest details can help build a theory. I needed to know more about Valerian life and society if I was to figure out what exactly was going on.