Beyond the Dome

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. A vast desolate plane of dirt stretching far beyond the horizon and distorted by the cracks in the fragile glass pane. If she closed one eye and tilted her head, the cracks almost looked like a bare tree sitting in the center of the rising sun; like the nucleus of an atom. The dirt swirled around her illusion and muddied the thought of wanting to go outside their dome shelter. She wondered how the sun might feel on her skin, how the dirt would feel between her fingers, how the cracked dirt would feel under her feet. All her body knew was the temperature-controlled dome and its cold steel floors and walls. The window was the only sense of realism she had from test tube meats and synthesized plant fibers grown from a single leaf that survived the chaos outdoors.

She looked back at the sleeping figure sprawled out in bed. His bare back was exposed from under the thin black sheet he tended to sleep with. As much as she hated coming back to his rooms at the end of the day, his was the only apartment with a window that faced the outside world. She took care dressing, pulling on her whitewashed jeans so slow as to not stir him awake. Her black polo was easier as was the hairband she used to tie back her hair. As much as she lied to herself, the mirror always told her the truth. She pulled a long strand of her blonde hair from the tail she bundled and let it flop over her newly purpled eye. It almost looked like he left an imprint of the silver signet ring he always wore, almost like a brand on her skin. His hand was heavy, and she hoped it was the last day she spent in his bed, war hero that he supposedly was or not.

He stirred and grunted in his sleep as he turned over onto his back, the sheet threatening to expose himself. She snatched up her boots and stepped lightly to the door. They would have to wait until she was outside in the hall. She sped walked down the corridor towards the stairwell that dropped deeper into the dome. Lights flickered in the dingy grey space and the steel steps dug deep into her feet. She thought her socks might get caught in the studded edges and send her stumbling; might not be so bad in her case if she did. Seven floors down, she stopped and sat down to lace up her shoes. The blisters were already forming over the callouses in her heels, making it painful to slip on her mid-calf boots. She bit her tongue, but eventually got them on and was able to slip into the corridor.

Seven floors down was the ground level in the dome. Everything lower were the sublevels where the dome turned into a silo and the corridors turned into a maze. The ground floor opened into a grid of streets that tried to mimic paved walkways. False trees lined the walkways in their caged pots and behind those laid the shops. Merchants with their synthetic foods and protein supplemental smoothies were all yelling around from their lifted awnings, but they could not grab her attention. Her eyes were set ahead of her at the circular door at the end of the street, the airlock. Her way to the outside world. Her way to see beyond the steel dome that she had been living in for what seemed like her entire life.

Nobody noticed her as she made her way down the street. Everyone that was by themselves had their eyes downcast and those what were not paid them any mind. She beelined for the bench near then end of the street where she knew there was a loose panel that accessed the powerlines for the many lamps in the square. It pulled back to show her duffel bag that she had stashed and added to over the months. She slung it over her shoulder and made her way closer to the door. The guards were gone, meaning there was a team of barren roamers walking through the waste. As many times as she applied, she was never selected, and always overlooked for her size being the smallest applicant the dome had ever had.

She snuck into the airlock using the keycard she stole from his bedside table. The time it took to get him drunk enough to leave it in the open more dedication than it was worth. No one saw her enter the airlock. The two guards that normally stand guard to keep people from leaving were posted in the two observation ports that looked to the outside world. Knocking them out would be the easy part with the small taser she had with her but finding the courage to do so would be another feat. She took it to the first guard’s neck and hit the buzzer, but it did not engage. He turned and swung his arm out at her trying to pin her arm down, but she swung her duffel at him and knocked him to the steel floor. The second guard looked from his station and started to rush her, but he tripped over a loose cable from the floor and only managed to catch one of her boot laces.

They both tumbled to the floor as the alarm blared in the chamber announcing the opening of the outer door, the door to the waste. She tried her best to pick herself up but the first guard landed on top of her and tried to force something over her face. It was not going to end that way. She tried to squirm free but was pinned by the second guard. They each had a hold of her arms, but she could still lift her face to the door. It hissed as it opened, and the light bled through the cracks and blinded her and the world around her. Three shadows emerged through the light in a rush and they too tried to keep her from her escape.

She screamed at the light, she wanted her escape, but the light burned her retinas and the air turned to sandpaper in her throat, but she kept trying to break free of their grasp. They pulled her away from the door with ease. She still heard her screaming in her ears, but she made no noise. She still felt her body writhing in their grasp, but she was not moving. They were half dragging her, half carrying her, with no sense of urgency. She knew her body was dying. Her ears finally tuned into the Geiger counters that were blaring in the chamber. Her eyelids felt heavy, and her head felt like it was made of lead, but she kept her head up and her eyes open as her dying pupils adjusted to the light, zeroing in on the horizon. In the distance amongst the flat barren desert, she saw the twists and turns of the broken window in his room. She saw the twists of the branches and the turns of the limbs of a single tree laying in the baking radiation of a dying sun.