Smile

I woke up happy one morning. And they were going to kill me for it.

I don’t know how it happened. I had a dream the night before; something that should’ve been impossible.

It was a simple dream, but lovely. I was walking through a field of tall grass, running my finger on top of the blades as I passed. I glided through until the grass turned to flowers. Bright, beautiful flowers whose names I don’t know. I know it’s impossible but I could smell them. So aromatic on their own, then a slight breeze brought their sickly sweet fragrance to my nose, enveloping me. I opened my mouth so I could suck in more. It was dizzying. I felt as if I were floating.

Then I woke up to the gray and black of my living quarters. But I was smiling.

Happiness is a strange feeling when you’re not used to it. The pressure on my cheek was first of all disconcerting. I thought I had suffered some sort of facial paralysis. My immediate thought was to get medical. I drew my lips down and was relieved to find that I hadn’t developed a palsy. Internally however, something was very wrong.

I was feeling. And the feeling was one of … buoyancy. Like the dream, I felt light, like I was floating. Like a canoe whose mooring had loosened and was set free to coast atop the lakes of serenity.

What was causing this?

Then I remembered the flowers. Their superfluousness of colors exploded in my mind’s eye. And I smiled again. A real, genuine smile. Not the smile of restrained cordiality that we were taught in first form when we received our first Apath injections. The smiles that barely smoothed the wrinkles in our lips.

I held it until my cheeks burned and my eyes spouted tears. I was ridiculous. If a judge were to see me, he’d have me executed on the spot.

I had to get myself under control.

I hopped out of my bed and took the normally four steps to my living room in one giant leap. I grabbed my Apath reader off my tiny coffee table. Has it always been that small? – and connected it to my transdermal port. The automated voice and readout simultaneously reported:

APATH DELIVERY SYSTEM (ADS) PERFORMANCE: OPTIMAL

I scrolled through the touchscreen on my reader to “Saturation Levels” and pressed TEST.

APATH-BLOOD SAT LEVELS: NORMAL

This made no sense. My pump was working. What was I supposed to do? I had to figure this out.

The smile was gone now.

What replaced it was a feeling like my insides were getting twisted and squeezed and stretched; like I swallowed an apple whole. My breaking was ragged and the tears were flowing. I was crying. Sobbing really. Or having a mental breakdown. This was too much. I couldn’t think. I never had this problem on Apath. It’s a lot easier to function when your brain isn’t being flooded by chemicals and anxiety.

In the midst of what I can only describe as spontaneous combustion, I hear the chime. The inspector had entered the floor. Whatever nerves I had left were now fried. I could hear my neighbors already opening their doors.

I had to get it together; failure to open the door for an inspector was… actually I didn’t know. No one did. You just kind of didn’t exist anymore. Before I got up, I did something I hadn’t done since I was a first form: I did my mantra.

Only Log1`ic is safe

Emotion is the enemy

Desire is selfish

Selfishness kills the body politic

I got up and went to the bathroom sink. I had to move. I washed my face and threw on a top. I opened the door as the inspector finished with my neighbor, Alex 5th Floor Unit 2 AL building. My co-worker, Alphonso, lived on the 8th floor.

The inspector stepped in front of me. He was a severe man. In a world devoid of emotions, he was a black hole.

“Alex, 5-3, female, 26. Your reader please.” His eyes were looking through mine and my heart was pounding out of my chest and my face was burning up. If I wasn’t already dehydrated from the crying, I might have been sweating too.

I reached back to my reader and handed it to him. He turned it on.

“You’ve used it recently. A few minutes ago actually. May I ask why?

I wanted to tell him. If only to quell the anxiety, to kill this feeling. To kill this burning in me.

I almost did, but then I felt the coldness under my bare feet. In all the panic. I’d forgotten to put any on. I focused on the smoothness of the freshly polished floor; on the pleasing coolness and let out a soft breath.

“Purely for efficiency Inspector. Just to make sure it was working for your surprise inspection.”

The Inspector didn’t like that. “Resources are low. While your vigilance is noted, unnecessary usage drains the battery.”

His understated intensity was matched by his overly starched black suit. White shirt buttoned to the top, no tie. His shoes were polished to a reflective sheen.

“Yes Inspector.”

He gave the slightest of nods and put the reader to my port. He read the data and merely said. “Hmm.”

He disconnected the reader and handed it back. The relief that washed over me was short-lived as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small handled device. I’d never seen before. He pointed it at my forehead. A green light beam emitted from it and I could hear the processor whirring.

“Merely a redundancy. Also checks temperate and other vitals,“ he said as he continued to not break eye contact.

The floor stopped working and I felt my heart rate start to rise. The machine did too as it started to chirp.

“Heart rate is up. Cortisol levels are a bit outside of range: when was your last Apath calibration?”

My breaths were becoming short, and I had an overwhelming urge to push him down and start running. I knew I wouldn’t get far, but I had to try. They warned about this. Emotion led to violence and irrationality.

“My last calibration was two days ago Inspector.”

“Hmm.”

His eyes bearing down on me made me shiver. His whole presence was made to intimidate. Even the swagger stick tucked into his underarm sent a message of intimidation. And then it hit me, that’s what he was; a message. He was trying to look intimidating. Only, now it looked comical.

I had to stifle a laugh.

“Readings returning to normal. Good.”

I know he didn’t mean it. His job only serves a purpose if he finds “feelers” and defectors, but there was nothing he could do if the device said I was “normal”.

He put the device back in his jacket pocket, nodded and clicked his heels. Like a field marshal from the Reich that we learned about in school. He made a forty-five degree turn and walked to my neighbor, ALEX 5-4.

The workday was monotonous in a way that I hadn’t noticed before. Masking my newfound feelings wasn’t hard because nothing of note occurred. I know I was playing a dangerous game and should turn myself in. But I wasn’t ready to.

That night, I started to have another dream when I felt a tap on my foot. I was slow to wake and at first I saw nothing. I started to lower my head when someone cleared their throat. I jumped up and let out an audible gasp. A light turned on and I was looking at the Inspector. He smiled at my reaction. I sat up.

“What are you doing here?”

“How did you do it? And don’t lie please.”

Despite the warning, I almost did lie, but I knew he was serious. I knew this was the end, and somehow that made me brave.

“The swagger stick. It was so ridiculous it made me laugh. It calmed me.”

He laughed. It was a soft laugh obviously not meant to be heard outside the room, but he laughed.

“It is friggin’ ridiculous. Finding humor, that’s a good one. I’ll have to remember that.”

He stood up, and reached into his pocket. “I usually use this.” He pulled out a black ball. He squeezed it. It looked… squishy. “They call it a stress ball. Not that I have much use for it most days. Seniority has its benefits.”

Shock would be an understatement for what I felt.

We talked for hours. He told me about all the dreams he’d had. I told him about my one. He agreed that it was lovely. We laughed, which was by far my favorite new experience. Before I knew it, it was three in the morning and the laughter and chatter had ceased.

That’s when he made his phone call. Agents were coming for me. They’d get me in a matter of minutes.

To his credit, he looked like he genuinely regretted doing it. “Had to be done”, he explained. “ I really am sorry. It’s been quite a while since I’ve had someone to speak to. But if I don’t bring you in, I serve no purpose.”

“What makes you think I won’t tell?”

“Because you know they’d never believe you. They lack the imagination to conceive of someone like me.”

“But how can you do this when you know how amazing this feels?”

“Because the system works Alex. Trust me, I’ve seen us when we’re unrestrained.”

The trial was short and well attended. Despite my assumptions, they didn’t kill me. They simply let me go. Cast away.

There were others like me. I made friends, which is a word I had to learn. There are flowers. I lie with them most days. Sometimes we get raided and some of us are rounded up and executed. But mostly they leave us alone. There’s talk of rebellion. I don’t know.

I dream every night, and wake up happy most mornings. They can’t kill that.