The Repository

Elliott opens her eyes, squinting as the sunlight peaks through her curtains. It's another warm muggy day. She breathes out heavily and peers at her clock. It’s 5:58am. Two minutes left before her day begins. She smells coffee brewing and the comforting sound of her girlfriend, Rhein, humming a tune. THIS is home she thinks to herself. Her alarm hollers.

She walks into the kitchen. Her girlfriend is already dressed. The kitchen is filled with the sweet scent of her perfume over the aroma of coffee. She’s seated at the table in her crisp uniform. She looks up.

“Good morning” She smiles, her mouth full of eggs.

“Morning Rhe” Elliott responds as she makes her way over to the coffee machine. She pours herself a cup and hops on the counter with ease. Her long legs dangle from the counter.

Rhein looks at Elliott with intrigue and longing before her face becomes shadowed and tenses. “We have another raid tonight” she says as she swallows her last few bites before getting up.

The raids have been happening more frequently. More and more people are being found in hiding.

Elliott leaps off the counter and makes her way towards her bedroom. She glances at Rhein’s face as her partner averts her gaze.

Before walking into her room, she pauses, “Good luck” she says.

“We don’t need it” Responds Rhein.

Elliott closes their bedroom door and whispers, “It wasn’t for you”. Rhein knows how Elliott feels about the raids. These aren’t just people but families. Children! There are so few now.

VANCEON CORPs was her dream job. Every precept hoped to be scouted by the preeminent magnate after graduation. Only one person was scouted from Elliott’s class. Her.

Elliott hops off her bike and walks up to the looming thick gray security gate.

“Morning Westin” she says with a smile. He grabs her badge and looks at it.

“State your name and department” He says with a smirk.

She rolls her eyes, “Elliott Pekks, Med Division…. really West”

He shrugs and quips “Protocol” as he scans her badge.

“Protocol my ass…see you tonight” she gaffs as the gate opens. She and West have known each other their whole lives. He’s an asshole but he’s her best friend.

“Welcome back Elliott.” an electronic voice cheerily responds.

She looks up at the large pristine windowless building. It looks like a towering slab of white concrete that reaches down from the clouds. On the building in large block letters is “VANCEON CORPS”. “I’m late,” she thinks to herself… “again.”She carries her rusted bike up the building steps. You don’t see manual bikes anymore except as an ornament carefully placed as home decor. Something else that makes her standout. Rhe warns her that she should do more to fit in with her peers. For her birthday, Rhe brought her the new Vanceon pro moped (zero emission) but she can’t bring herself to use it.

She waves at the security guard at the reception desk, scans her badge to open the elevator doors and hurriedly rolls her bike in. She makes her way down the hallway. The sound of machines whirring and the familiar beep of equipment echoes. She prefers to come in later than everyone else. There’s no “mock elevator talk “or counterfeit smiles. She struggles with the daily pleasantries; she was always the “petulant little girl” (as her headmaster would harshly letch each time Elliott landed in her office). West was her only friend, maybe because he found her impoliteness liberating in this world built by the elite.

She breathes in deeply and scans her badge once more. The doors slowly slide apart and she steps into a cold gray room surrounded by glass. The room is illuminated only by the glow of computers. She removes her badge and puts it into the computer.

“Password please” requests the cheery electronic voice.

“Tyto Alba” She responds as she looks down at the tattered statue of a barn owl on her desk. “A reminder of her previous life,” she thinks bitterly, “that ironically foreshadows her current position; population control guised under medical care. She will lose no one on her watch.”

Her family is “considered” the elite. Her grandfather always said that they built their fortune with blood, sweat and dirt. Her family owns farms all over the world. They still feed more than half the world’s population or what’s left of it. That is the ONLY reason she is tolerated.

“Hello Elliott! Welcome back!” the electronic voice responds.

“Thanks…tuh…what’s your name again?” Elliott sighs. She has only been with VANCEON for 2 months. Spending her days talking to a computer was new.

“I am Gideon, Elliott. How can I help you?” Gideon responds.

“Give me the most recent vitals on all in our household and highlight any abnormalities” commands Elliott as she puts on her white lab coat.

“887,000 vitals are within the normal range. 12 have abnormalities” Gideon responds.

“Great” she whispers. “Gideon, turn on the lights”

“Command received” Immediately, the glass illuminates to reveal a large repository that extends far into the distance. Elliott walks up to the glass. She has yet to get used to this sight. The warehouse is lined with rows of ventilated men and women. Each submerged within a purple tinged liquid. At the base of their skull is a tube that not only sustained them but connected each of them to each other. This is the household.

When Elliott was first assigned, she was given a brief glimpse of their world, Forlore. It is an immaculate reality that even Elliott felt compelled to inhabit after a brief stay. She was not allowed to interact with those in Forlore. She was only permitted to watch. Children’s laughter resounded; the future a distant care. Outside of Forlore, children are not without the weight of the world. She secretly jokes that they are little fortune 500’s. Elliott was lucky to have the support of her grandfather (whom she is the namesake) to choose a life outside of her family’s 1 percent heritage. She reminds herself of this when she feels the familiar creep of loneliness. She knew that her decision would make her an outsider not just with her family but with her peers. Everyone knows the Pekks family name. We are in the fields, not the office. VANCEON was never created for her family line.

Elliott tugs her curly hair into a bun and makes her way over to the door of the repository that leads to the household. She looks back “Gideon, illuminate in red the members with abnormalities”. She begins her descent to the repository floor. THIS will take all day she thinks.