Missing

You’re the key to my heart. That’s what they said, and then they were gone. Nothing left, but a heart shaped locket.

You would think in a world that constantly watches you, you can’t go missing. In Fort Arcadia, walls tower around the city and extend skyward to enclose everything within; to the average eye, the skies are limitless, but only those who know otherwise can see the faint outlines of the dome’s panel-screens overhead, replicating normality before the era of humanity collapsed. At least that’s what I have heard. The System tells us that the walls are for our safety, that nothing gets in; we are constantly reminded of the toxic organisms that grew and mutated as the world quickly died around us, resources dwindling on the daily. The Domes keep the Earth’s destruction outside, and no one leaves.

I hear a gentle tapping behind me, against my door. Finger scanning for entry to a room I cannot leave freely. The sound of air and gears, and the door opens to reveal a figure dressed in a dark combat uniform. Agent Cross. He holds a touch screen under his arm.

“Weapon X, you are to accompany me to the Dark Room. Let’s go.”

We leave my solitary cell. The halls are metallic and white, obsessively clean. Boots squeak against the floor as other Bioweapons pass me, accompanied by guards. Their eyes are empty, skin sharing a soft holographic sheen like my own against the gray of our jumpsuits. We are nameless bodies, not quite human, but not quite machine. We were told that we gave ourselves to the cause all those years ago, to become one with the mutations of the world, to sustain what was left of humanity. We are trained to serve and protect The Dome, which I have never actually seen. I often compare myself between the guards and weapons as they pass me by, questioning what I have given up to become what I am. I should not be questioning this though; therefore, I am considered dangerous and defective.

The Dark Room holds four agents of The System seated around an empty screen. Cross directs me to the nearby podium where a Bioengineer stands, waiting to hook me up to the wires hanging down from the ceiling. They want to play my memories again. The leader of the agents approaches me as the wires are inserted into the back of my neck, and Cross hands the touchscreen to her before retreating to the shadows by the door.

“Weapon X, we meet again. Before we continue with The Inquiry, lets review the case, shall we?”

Images of a familiar face appear on the large screen. My own, and my assigned Bioengineer, Dr. Oz Hanlon.

“Today we are reviewing the malpractice of Dr. Hanlon, who has also recently disappeared. Assigned to defective Weapon X, Dr. Hanlon was tasked with improving their programmed functions – as we know, a Bioweapon can become extremely volatile when its programming deteriorates, and Weapon X here has been exhibiting signs of instability by disobeying protocol. Upon investigating Weapon X’s inner records, we have found that Dr. Hanlon has abused their power by stealing classified information about the Bioweapons, using the defection case as a ruse.”

“What have they stolen?” Someone asks.

“We’re still investigating, but it appears they’ve stolen a variety of The System’s safety codes and procedure plans, as well as the classified information previously mentioned. Therefore, it’s of the utmost importance to locate Dr. Hanlon – with this classified information in their hands, Dr. Hanlon has become a suspect of terrorism. We know that there have been recent underground attempts by several citizens to exploit resources, as well as escape The Dome.”

The agents mutter, unimpressed.

“As it stands”, the leader continues, “with the disappearance of Dr. Hanlon, and Weapon X’s continued aversion to procedure, the greatest course of action in ensuring safety in both the physical and informational sense would be to terminate Weapon X. Before doing so, let us glean what we can from the records”.

My memories flash across the screen. Each interaction, each time I saw a radiant glow within another being’s eyes. One of the chattiest people, always asking me questions and sharing stories that I was oblivious in understanding. Hanlon didn’t know any better, that they were being watched by my inner eye – or maybe they did.

I’m Dr. Hanlon… but please, call me Oz; I’m not serious about formalities. What shall I call you? How about X…

The walls enclose everything outside of The Lab – both Upper and Lower Arcadia – but Lower Arcadia is so full of life…

Can you imagine what it must have been like? In old stories I’ve heard, the skies were blue, and the world was green…

So how are we feeling today?

Feeling. Imagine. Formalities. Life. Words I repeat to myself.

Then:

I’m probably not supposed to give this to you, but I want you to keep it. It’s an old family heirloom, but I hate the thought of you being all alone in this room constantly, so I wanted to give you a little part of me since I’d like to say we’re pals. You’re the key to my heart.

A voice from the darkness emerges.

“The Weapon is in possession of a family heirloom, to a likely terrorist… Perhaps there is use of this information, despite the obvious lack of authorization this Bioweapon has to possess an object.”

I can see the leader’s silhouette nodding. “True… after all, it seems Hanlon somehow trusts the Weapon despite its lack of humanity…”

I am unhooked from the wires, and the leader approaches me.

“Weapon X, state your purpose.”

“To serve and protect”, I reply automatically. I am heavy inside.

“Indeed. I think it can be agreed upon that Weapon X is perhaps stable enough for one task – to locate Dr. Hanlon. Objections?”

Only silence.

**********************************************************************

They are watching through my eye, behind my back as I walk, but I am alone in completing my task.

The buildings are block-like and stacked upon each other in Lower Arcadia. In the distance, I can see the faint lights of Upper Arcadia glimmer; I had no knowledge that I had been there all this time, within the hill where the city is seated. Opposite to what I have known, the streets here are dark and wet. The streetlights flicker with an orange haze. Along the walls of alleys are images. Paintings. ‘Missing Souls’, they read; various faces staring back at me, the lights of their eyes burnt out.

I wait for a shadow to appear. Hayle was the name I was given to investigate, and this location is where they live. I see them. Eyes connect, and I understand I must follow.

Through the alley, we come to a hidden crack in the walls. I am pulled through into a cramped room with an old table. Hayle shares a seat with me.

“You’re X. Oz told us all about you, told us to be expecting you.”

“Where is Dr. Hanlon”, I say.

“That’s anyone’s guess… I bet they made it out though. I don’t believe they were caught.”

“Tell me about this place and what Hanlon stole. You must comply.”

Hayle reveals a stack of files with a chuckle.

“We’re the so-called rebels. They told you that Oz stole codes, right? Well, you aren’t wrong… but you still don’t know why.”

The files have scanned pictures. The same faces on the walls… and my own.

“You aren’t a weapon, X – you’re a missing soul”, Hayle says. “The System controls the resources, but doesn’t share with Lower Arcadia, the laborer's… you’re an experiment being used to make sure that nobody figures it out, and you don’t even know. Anyone who does find out goes missing too. Oz is looking for them and wants everyone to know. There’s life beyond the walls... and you’re the next step in finding it. You have the locket?”

I don’t understand. Am I somebody? What –

A clanging. Hayle jumps up and grabs my arm.

“There’s no time left to explain. Your defection is proof, and Oz needs you – find them, we’ll take care of the rest. You carry it all. You are the key.”

I am pushed into darkness, tumbling into the depths of the city, gunfire echoing behind me.

**********************************************************************

I can hear them above, faintly, their boots scuffling as they scour the streets searching for me. In the tunnels below, it’s dark. There’s a soft ripple of light glowing against the water, and I can only hear my breathing. It echoes gently through the tunnel but is thunderous within. I don’t know where to go now. All I have left is the locket, warm metal in my palm. I think of Oz and the truths that I have learned. What am I feeling? Is this grief? The heart I have just rediscovered is broken.

I hold the locket close.

“Oz… What should I do? Where do I go from here?”

Then there’s a light in my palm; the locket is glowing. Slowly, Oz appears in front of me. Only it’s not Oz, it’s a hologram.

“Follow me”, it says with a smile, nodding the way. We travel down the tunnels silently, twisting and turning till a door is suddenly revealed ahead of me. A group of vines has torn through the ancient bricks that surround the door, only they have been disturbed. Oz stops and turns to me.

“Who would have guessed it was as simple as a door? If you’re seeing this message, X, I want you to know that I meant what I said. You are the key to my heart – you embody my hope that there’s a possibility for change, a possibility for a better tomorrow. This locket contains all The System’s codes that keep the dome running, and more importantly, the coordinates for the Missing Souls outside of the walls. As soon as you pass through the door, I’ve programmed this locket-USB to expose the truth and signal my crew to take care of the rest of plan, for the safety of the people. I discovered that the files of your identity were all sadly destroyed years ago, but I want to tell you that that doesn’t matter; what matters is who you are now, and who you choose to become. Beyond the door, you are free, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Begin again. You don’t have to be the hero If you don’t want to, but know that you are so much more than you think. Find us Missing Souls, X – We’ll be waiting. I’ll see you soon, I hope.”

The glow of the locket dies down, and I am left with only the door, only these new thoughts. Doubt. Intrigue. Hope. A whole new world beyond. Is it really possible for me? I pause. I press my hand against the door, and push.

**********************************************************************

My eyes open slowly. The sky is so bright.

I can’t believe it.

The world is so green.