Radioactive
Authors: Maya Shepherd
Maya Shepherd
RADIOACTIVE
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“The Forgotten Ones”
02. HELP FROM AN UNEXPECTED SOURCE
T
he light is so bright that it’s burning my eyes. I cannot see anything and pinch my eyelids together. I’d prefer to shield my eyes with my hand, but I cannot move my arms. Everything feels so numb and lifeless. I have the feeling that I am trapped in my own body. Although I cannot move, I feel that I am naked. It is cold.
A head appears in my field of vision, giving me a reprieve from the bright lights. It is a woman. Her eyes shine light blue, 5012 on the RAL color chart. Her head is bald, while her white suit reflects the burning light of the lamps. I am back in the Legion.
Before I can respond in any way, they put some kind of black rubber mask over my mouth and nose. I want to fight back. I want to scream. I will not forget.
Although I know that Finn and the rebels should be the last thing on my mind at this moment, I am powerless. The belief that I will see Finn again someday is the only thing that gives me hope while I slip back into the bottomless nothing from which I have only just awakened.
It is quiet. No voices. No birds singing. No wind blowing through the trees. Nothing.
I open my eyes and stare at the white ceiling. It would have been comforting to see the uneven, red sandstone caves where I lived with the rebels. But even though I knew I would not see that I still open my eyes. I am back in the safety zone of the Legion. I can smell it. The caves smell of Earth, pine needles, moss, sand, and freshly baked bread. They smell of life and liberty. The safety zone on the other hand just smells sterile. The sharp smell of cleaning agents bites my nose.
Before now it never occurred to me, but now that smell is so strong I feel I can hardly breathe.
I let my eyes glide through the cell. There is no table and chair, no steam shower, or the little food bank box. There are no windows, but of course I did not expect windows. The safety zone is located deep underground, where night never falls and people never know whether it’s really day or night. The sun and moon do not decide these things down here. The day and night cycle is decided by the Legion commander.
The bed on which I lie is the only piece of furniture in the small room. It is different from the beds that I was used to in the past. This bed has latches that could be used to tie me down; however, maybe I should be grateful that I am not tied to this bed. I feel empty inside. It is difficult for me to reflect and think clearly.
The walls are made of cold steel, whose surface is matted. I can see a small pink spot on the wall. I brush my hands carefully over the rough fabric of brown nightgown. Slowly I let my fingers wander up and touch my head. It is as bare and as cold as the ceiling and walls of the cell. The short brown hair that grew during my time with the rebels is gone. I am now a member of the Legion again. A person without their own opinions, dreams, or feelings. More of a robot than a human.
I see that my body trembles before I feel it. My hands tremble and I press my lips together so tightly that they start to bleed and I can taste the metallic taste of blood on my tongue. I feel wet drops on my skin and wipe them away. I am crying. Incredulous, I look at the shiny wetness on my fingertip and discover something completely different. In my palm a narrow white scar can be seen. I distinctly remember the day it happened. It was one of my first days with the rebels after they captured me. They said I should help work in the field. Clumsily I cut myself with a knife. Finn was beside himself with rage. He insulted me so much that I fainted in the heat of the sun. Actually, it is not one of the happy memories from my time with the rebels, but I will treasure this memory all the same. The Legion cannot own my memories. They are a part of me. Even though I am now once again D518 in the eyes of the Legion, in my heart I am Cleo. I will wait for the day I can be reunited with Finn.
I let myself slide back on the pillow and close my eyes.
Already it is difficult for me to remember how my face looked on my last evening with the rebels, but it is easier for me to remember Finn. His face is burned into my retina. I can see the dimples in his cheeks when I imagine his sparingly-used smile and the mischievous gleam in his eyes, which are as blue as the sky on a sunny day. The waves of his blond hair appear so close to me, as if I could just reach out my fingers and touch them.
I am thinking of our last moment together. It was our farewell for an uncertain amount of time. Maybe forever. But it was the moment that changed my life forever. It was the moment I love the most. I ran my fingertips over his lips and then his lips biting mine. Our kiss was full of fear and despair, but there was also so much more. It was an unspoken promise. We’ll meet again. Some day.
It’s hard to say how much time passes when there is no sun at which one can orient their self. Previously I had a thoroughly planned daily schedule in the safety zone. I woke up when the Legion woke me up, worked and went to bed when the Legion told me it was time for it. I was able to count minutes and seconds in my head. I forgot all of that during my time with the rebels. There I woke up when the sun through the small window in the room woke Iris and myself. No day was like the one before it. Every day was new and nice at the same time.
Worst of all, is the uncertainty. I do not know what the Legion commanders intend to do with me. Do they see me as an enemy? Or do they expect me to help destroy the rebels?
I’m assuming that I currently find myself in the sickbay, but how long will they keep me here? Will they hold me here for the rest of my life? Trapped in my own feelings and memories?
I pause and listen. I hear a slight rattle. A mechanical buzzing sounds and the steel door of the cell slides in. In its opening is a Legion commander. She holds a small tray in her hand. Behind her I can recognize the sterile corridor of the hospital wing. She wears green stripes to match the green suits of doctors and laboratory staff. When I visited the training class, I dreamed of one day joining them. I wanted to achieve something in the safety zone. To be something special. But it turned out quite differently. Instead of becoming B518, safety zone doctor, I became D518, an employee of the food allocation team.
The door closes behind the Legion commander and she walks calmly toward me. This immediately arouses my suspicions. No one in the Legion goes slowly; everyone has tasks they must perform in a given time. There is no reason to waste time.
But the strange woman does something strange, by setting down on the bed beside me. Her attitude expresses something like compassion. I must be imagining it. In the safety zone there are no feelings. While they are not prohibited directly, they simply do not exist. They are no more a part of life than a sunset.
Curious, I look into the woman’s eyes and freeze. I know her. Although her eyes are as light blue as everyone else’s, there is a spark of feeling that I recognize them. She is the Legion commander, whom I had only met as an infant. That time I damaged my own nightgown. Instead of punishing me, she told me I had a great future ahead of me. She said I would have to be very intelligent. Obviously she was wrong. She probably does not even remember me. To her I’m just one of many.
“My name is A350. I have brought you your food ration.”
She holds out the tray on which next to a glass of water are some colorful pills, tablets, and capsules. What I would not give at this moment for a piece of bread.
I reach first for the cereal cubes. There are four. This is less than normal for a full-grown woman. I should know, after all, I worked in food allocation.
“You’ve put on weight,” A350 commented on my hesitation. So I’m probably too thick now, even though I was just starting to look healthy. I saw myself in the mirror with the rebels. I saw how my ribs are pressed through my thin suit. My cheekbones stood out on my face. I was horrified at the sight of me, that I dared only after weeks to look at myself in the mirror again. But I realize that I’m not useful for the Legion as I do not meet their ideal size. Without answering, I swallow the cereal cubes.
After that, the protein capsule follows. Obviously they can tell that I have been doing heavy work. I am sure that I have built up more muscle in the past few months than in my whole life in the safety zone.
At the end are the pink vitamin tablets. There are more than normal. The Legion commanders will have examined me thoroughly for diseases, but vitamins will additionally strengthen my immune system.
When Iris was still F701, she was pleased every time she received many of the pink tablets at the food counter. I therefore allocated her more on purpose, just before the rebels abducted me. At the time, that was my kind of rebellion. When I think about it today, it seems rather ridiculous. Allotting someone too many vitamin pills is not a rebellion. It’s not even a riot. It is nothing. Completely insignificant. It is only an attempt to convince yourself that you can at least control a portion of a person’s life.
While I have swallowed the protein capsules and cereal cubes at once, I’m considering the four vitamins individually on my tongue.
One for Iris.
One for Finn.
One for the rebels.
One for Cleo.
The Legion commander observed without saying anything. She just sat there stiff and looked at me while her mouth formed a thin line. Maybe I just imagined her feelings.
“How are you?”
There it is again, that peculiar twinkle in her eyes and the gentle sound in the usually mechanical voice. Never before had anyone in the safety zone asked how I felt.
“Do you feel any pain? Is your body functioning properly? Do you have any adverse effects?”
She does not care about my inner life, she only asks about my physical condition.
“My body is functioning.”
A350 hesitates for a moment, but then she gets up and heads for the door. That was it? What will happen next? What will become of me?
“What happens to me now?”
The Legion commander turns to me again. “You will stay here in the sickbay for a few days. After that you may return to your work unit.”
I’ll be back in food allocation? What about my time with the rebels? Is that insignificant?
“In food allocation?” I ask almost stupidly.
“Of course. You are D518. That’s your life.”
The door opens and A350 steps out. She leaves me with so many unanswered questions that seem to dissolve into thin air. I was afraid they would kill or torture me. I thought they would rob me of my memory. I was afraid they would try to get me to turn on the rebels. But I never thought they would act as though nothing happened. No one cares about my time with the rebels. No one speaks to me about it. No one asks questions. Nobody is interested in it.
How could the rebels believe the Legion would just appoint me as a commander? They put all their hopes in me, even though I’m completely useless. As a small female worker in the food allocation division, I am not helpful to anyone. There is no way I can change the lives of the rebels or the people of the safety zone. I had a chance to start anew. I had a life with the rebels. I had a life with Finn. But I gave it up for a silly dream. Completely free.
I
wear the brown suit which distinguishes me as belonging to D-Class. The fabric clings to my body and looks almost like a second skin, but I feel exposed for the first time in my life. I yearn for the loose clothing of the rebels. With the rebels, the clothes were an extension of the people. Here, we are all the same, well, only externally. In my mind rages a storm that cannot be seen from the outside. Even though my situation seems hopeless, I will not give up. I will fight. For the rebels. And for me.
The door of the cell slides open and a peppy young man in a blue suit is waiting for me. I have to look closely to realize it is not C515. It would have been nice to see a familiar face. Although we were never friends in the sense that I am friends with the rebels, there always seemed to be a connection between us. Maybe it was just that I could distinguish him from all the others, and he could tell me apart, obviously. We always recognized each other though we never spoke to each other. Our looks to each other could say more than words ever could.