Colony 138

Auntie Mira has been gone for five days. The Controllers took her on what the Ancients would call her ‘birthday’ – the day she was to become an Eldest.

None of my family group knows why she is gone or where she was taken. Others in our group are Eldests or even Ancients, and the numbers on their IDs read well over 60. Auntie was just beginning to show lines around her eyes and mouth, and unlike Elizah, our oldest group member, she still walked upright and without help, so she can’t have been taken to be Retired.

No one seems upset that she is gone. Even Uncle Tam, her law-bound partner, does not seem worried or sad. I am mad at them all, though I know I shouldn’t be – anger is not allowed in family groups as it causes disruption and distrust, and trust with what the groups are built on and how our Colony survives.

I have been spending time with my memories of Auntie in the Museum halls. I walk up and down the rows, staring at the displays of ancient life on the surface, before we were forced to go underground and build the Colonies. I walk through the halls, remembering her laughing with me at Outhouses, her horrified expression every time we came to the Childbirth exhibit, and her wide-eyed wonderment at the Sun Farm, the UV-ray exhibit that showed Surface plants and the dangers of the Sun; sunburns, cancers, and wildfires. The shock of pre-Colony living and the marvels of medical advancements make these displays look like myths, made up to scare children.

It’s at the Childbirth display that I stop this time. Children are no longer born, but grown, and many of the things in the display are ancient historical artifacts.

My faint reflection stares back at me through the glass display windows. My eyes look red and I begin to feel tears building. I quickly take out my pill case and open them to find ESCA – the small white pills will helps to control my emotions.

I’m just about to take two of the pills out when I hear a familiar voice.

“Maya?”

I turn and find my family group’s leader, Matron, behind me. I slip the pill case back into my robe pocket and incline my head, respecting her role. “Matron, you surprised me.” I can feel my cheeks turning red and quickly cover them with my hands so she doesn’t see, though of course she does.

“You are turning red,” she says, frowning, “Did you forget your ESCA this morning?”

I hang my head. “No, Matron, I forgot. I just took them.”

She ‘tsks’ gently and folds her hands in front of her. “This is the third time since Auntie left that you have forgotten.” She cocks her head and squints at me. “Why do you forget? You have never forgotten before this.”

I straighten, then shrug. “I miss Auntie Mira. She used to remind me, and I reminded her.”

Matron’s lips thin and purse. “Mira…” she trails off and her expression softens. “Mira would want you to have this,” she pulls a delicate chain from her robe’s pocket and holds it out to me. “Although favorites are discouraged, I think we all know you were her favorite.”

I take the chain from her. Thin as it is, it holds a large metal heart pendant. The heart has a hinge on one side and a small clasp at the other. I pick at the clasp with my nails but it doesn’t open.

Matron shakes her head. “I couldn’t figure out how to open it. I think it must be from before the Surface Wars. It’s probably rusted shut, but Mira always had it. I’m not sure why she left it behind.”

I wrap my hand around the pendant and feel the metal, cool and smooth beneath my fingers.

Matron puts her hand on my shoulder. “Take an extra ESCA tonight, Maya. It is not bad to miss your Auntie Mira, but it will not do to dwell on it. We must avoid destructive emotions and sadness will only distract you from your job and school.”

I nod. She squeezes my shoulder again. As she leaves, she calls over her shoulder. “Remember, Maya, the Museum is a reminder of the past, not a call to go back to it.”

I turn back to the window display and hold the heart locket up in the fluorescent overhead lighting. The silver catches the light and refracts it into my eyes, and suddenly a tear slips from my eyes, then another.

I quickly wipe them away, suddenly scared someone will see me showing such emotion. I shift the locket into my other hand and reach for my pill case again. As I do, the moisture lingering on my fingers from wiping my tears away turn the locket from silver to black. I stop, right hand frozen halfway to my pocket, left hand outstretched, gingerly holding the locket.

The tiny clasp starts to emit a faint, white-blue glow. I dig at the clasp with my nails again, and this time it springs open. I nearly drop it in shock as a small projection lifts out of the unfolded halves of the heart pendant; it’s Auntie. Her projection stands tall, with her shoulders straight, and eyes looking directly at me.

“Maya,” her voice sounds tinny and far away. “If you’ve opened this locket, you’ve stopped taken your ESCA and finally cried again. I’m sorry for your tears, but I need you to know-,” she breaks off and the projection Mira looks sharply over her shoulder, at something beyond what her camera could see. When she turns back, her voice drops to a whisper and she leans in, her white-blue projected face magnified. “I need you to stop taking your ESCA. For good. There is so much going on and I need you to be awake for it all. If Matron gave this to you, it means I am gone. Do not let her know you opened the locket; she will take it away from you.”

My fingers unconsciously tighten around the locket chain.

“You have to come find me. If the Controllers took me, I desperately need your help. Inside this locket is a map of where I believe they would take me for what they call Reconditioning. Maya…you cannot let this happen. Please, please. Come and find me.”

The projection disappears and I am left starting at the empty space above my hand, my mouth hanging open.

My brain catches up slowly, but when it does, I snap to attention. I quickly pull the tiny piece of paper out of the locket and snap it shut again. I read the paper and, without hesitation, I head toward the area she marked.

I do not run; running is a sign of inward destructive emotions. I try to control my pace and act calm, sedate – like I normally would. I can feel my heart thumping in my chest as I pass my family group’s quarters, but I keep walking until I find the hallway Auntie marked. It is open and well lit, just like every other hallway in the Colony. It looks like every other hallway, in fact, except for one major detail – halfway down the hall, one of the doors has a lock. We do not have locks; they are not allowed. If we build a group on trust, but lock someone out or someone in, we do not trust.

I walk slowly to the locked door and grab the handle. I don’t know how to open it. There is a keypad, an ID reader, and a keyhole but I have neither a code nor a key. My mind races as I search for a way into the room. My ID card will almost certainly not give me access to this room.

I drop my hand and grit my teeth in frustration – it has been so long since I have felt frustrated. I have to stop myself from reaching for my ESCA case. I turn on the spot, looking for something, anything, that can help me. If Auntie is waiting for me behind this door, I have to get to her.

I’m just about to walk back to my group’s living space when a Controller rounds the corner. I quickly gather myself, calm my face, and put on a faint smile. I walk slowly toward him and put my hand into my pocket, a plan slowly coming together in my mind. He’s alone, holding his Net Screen, and seems preoccupied. He glances up as I approach him and nods, then quickly returns to whatever he’s looking at on his screen. I’m about to pass him when I pretend to stumble and click open the ESCA case, throwing it gently out of my pocket toward the floor. The tiny pills scatter in a hundred directions and we both automatically drop to our knees, reaching out for them.

“I’m so sorry,” I mumble. I reach for a pill near him and scoot closer.

“It’s no problem at all, but you should get your case checked for damages and cracks.”

“I will, thank you.” I reach for another pill and get closer to him. I can see his ID badge hanging from his belt. I slowly snake my hand toward it, as if I’m reaching for a pill. As I do, I use my other hand to point at the pill case, on his other side. “Can you grab it?”

As he reaches for the case, I slowly take his ID badge out of its case and slide it into my pocket. I have to force myself to let out a breath slowly and continue picking up the ESCA pills. After another minute, we have them all gathered again and stand up. I nod to him and thank him profusely.

“Not a problem. Make sure to take those in for reassessment later,” he reminds me.

“I will.” He walks away and, as he rounds the corner, I rush back to the locked door. I pull out his ID card and swipe it. My hands are sweaty and I feel flushed as the lock clicks and the door opens.

I gasp as I step inside. The door clicks shut behind me.

The room is full of beds – at least twenty. Most of them are empty, but here and there, sleeping forms are strapped to the beds, wires trailing from their arms to softly beeping machines against the wall. Halfway back is Auntie. I run to her bed, and frantically look at the wires and IV. There is a bag of liquids hanging from a hook that reads, ‘Emotional Suppressant and Cognitive Alignment’.

I pull my pill case out of my pocket and hold it up against the bag. ESCA. Is this what they have been giving all of us? I swallow hard. Emotional Suppressant I could’ve guessed, but Cognitive Alignment sounds like brainwashing or mind control.

I gently shake Auntie. Her head lolls to one side but she doesn’t wake up. I shake her harder and her eyelids flutter but don’t open.

I scan the room, beginning to feel panic rising in my chest. Near her, a tray is full of medical equipment and I see a syringe labeled ‘adrenaline’. I hesitate for only a moment before I reach for it. I hold it firmly and, taking a deep breath, plunge it into her thigh.

Then, quite suddenly, she is wide awake. She sits up abruptly and pulls the IV out of her arm. Her eyes roam wildly around the room before focusing on me.

“Maya,” her voice is hoarse. “It’s time to go.”

“Go where, Auntie?”

She stands and clings to me for support. Her expression is grim as she says, “Back to the Surface.”