The Dome

Three soft tones. It was always the same three notes that exuberantly echoed around Sarah’s pod. At first, they had been quite a pleasant sound to wake up to, but the novelty had quickly worn off and they now served as a daily reminder of her reality, cruelly served at 6:00am each morning.

Sarah rubbed her eyes aggressively, attempting to rouse herself from her deep sleep, before reaching across to a small wooden stool that sat quietly beside her bed and grasping at the delicate glass tumbler resting on it. It was filled with a disturbingly blue liquid, which she gulped down reluctantly. “That doesn’t get any better”, she said to herself. She had read in a dusty manual that it was meant to keep the radiation at bay, but her insides did not appreciate the chemical-fuelled invader she forced herself to drink every morning.

Dragging herself to her feet, she slowly absorbed her surroundings and found them to be depressingly un-changed. Her pod was supposedly one of the larger ones on offer in the Dome, but it was still only big enough for a small bed and shallow chest of drawers. The walls were characteristically grey, originally painted under some faux-futuristic pretence. She wished she could speak to whoever designed it and slap them squarely in the face for not giving her more leg room. As she entertained herself with this thought, a dull thump emanated from the small perspex window beside her. More debris. It was one of the more annoying aspects of sleeping on the periphery of the complex.

“Another day, same old Dome”, she thought. A quick glance at the scrawny calendar on the wall informed her that it was actually day 354 since the Event. “Fuck me”, she muttered, wondering how she could have lasted this long. A year ago, she had been planning her wedding. She used to spend hours trawling through magazines for the perfect venue. When she had stumbled across an advert looking for volunteers for the Dome, it had seemed like the perfect way to pay for the deposit. She had quickly scanned the details – something to do with the European Space Agency testing the effects of isolation in space – and signed up that morning. Of course, she had no way of knowing what was to come.

It had been barely a week into the experiment when everything had gone to shit. The dusty radio that they had been given for emergencies had started broadcasting during breakfast. It had been such a shock that the entire room fell silent as a woman’s voice commanded the confused attention of the volunteers. “A significant event has been detected … early reports suggest some kind of solar flair … there might be a risk of radiation exposure to the wider population…sit tight, we’ll be in touch”. It was at this moment that one man had almost choked on his re-hydrated eggs – although it was unclear if this was due to the news or the fact that re-hydrated eggs, by their very nature, were repulsive.

“Is that serious?”, stuttered a young woman. Her name tag had read what looked like “Selina” but the hand-writing was so sub-standard that she could have been called almost anything. Her nervous expression remained largely unchanged in the hours that followed, as small snippets of information filtered through the radio. By the early evening, there was nothing but static and the earlier confusion had started to descend into increasing panic.

It was at this point that volunteers started to try and leave the Dome. Their grey standard-issue jackets had flapped in unison as they hurried towards the main doors. In a different context, it would have been a rather amusing sight. As if they were a flock of migrating geese. As they reached the inner doors, they paused, standing on the precipice of their decision. It was only when a fiercely red-headed woman stepped forward and scanned her laminated access pass that the large metallic gateway slid open, ready to swallow the bodies in front of it. The group ushered each other into a small metallic chamber, a bridge between the quiet of the Dome and the unknown of the outside world.

The chamber itself was rectangular in shape, with a thin strip of sharp LED lighting that darted across the floor. Its pale light radiated onto the impatient expressions of the caged volunteers. If it were not for their nervous fidgeting, the sickly blue hue would have made them look like lifeless husks. The first door closed sharply behind them. After a brief pause, the outer door opened, beckoning the volunteers outside, and, like lemmings, they went.

The first few steps had been easy. After a few feet, they quickly became lumber some. A large, burly man at the back began coughing. “This fucking dust”, he spluttered. He staggered forward a few more steps, swayed for a brief moment and turned to look at the others. He coughed once more, but this time it was accompanied by a mouthful of blood. Clutching his chest, he fell swiftly before collapsing onto the hardened earth beneath him, his eyes hollow and empty. The others rushed to him, but it was mere moments before they started mimicking his fate. Their desperation turned to despair and, finally, emptiness. One by one, their bodies collapsed, like a house of cards caught in a gentle breeze. There they lay. Motionless. Serene.

The red-headed woman had made it the furthest. But even she had slumped to the ground. Blood trickled from her mouth, caressing her cheek, her face now pale. With both hands, she clutched a small, heart-shaped locket. No doubt it contained a picture of the person she had been so determined to find. And it was at this locket that Sarah now stared, looking out at the bodies once more as they were framed in the hexagonal windows of her prison.

The outer world was different now. Lifeless. Cold. Clouds of dust coated the Dome in darkness, trying desperately to seep into the small sanctuary. But it was the silence of the Dome that was most harrowing. It was just her. Alone. Her thoughts bounced off the walls and ricocheted with amplified intensity. And each time they did, they twisted and turned until they haunted her every move. As she gazed outwards, the glint of the necklace called to her, like a siren song. It was warm. Inviting. An ever-glowing beacon signalling for her to come home. It was a memory of happiness. Not hers, but a memory she still longed for.

Hot air kissed her bare feet as she opened the first set of doors. The gentle illumination that had once looked so ominous, now appeared hopeful. She slowly guided herself through the chamber until she lay her hand on the outer door with a sense of tranquil acceptance. There was no way of knowing if it was safe to leave. The only true certainty was that she could stay there no longer.

Taking a deep breath, perhaps her last, she stepped out. The dusty clouds engulfed her, greeting her to the new world. The organic earth crumbled below her feet and smothered her toes with a sensation she had not felt in a long time. The raw energy of her surroundings circled her, propelling her to move forwards into the noises of the untamed unknown. She could finally hear the world speak. The dust scratched lightly against her cheek but she welcomed it. It was a feeling of being alive; of being free.