Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
“Alright, Unit 4392. Time you went back to work.”
He reaches over and swings an arm-mounted device toward me. It slides toward my eyes. A series of lights activate, like a thousand stars, pretty pin pricks that immediately arrest my attention.
“Look into the light, please. Very good. Yes.”
I had a brief moment of fear that they were going to hurt me, but they won’t hurt me. Shah makes me hurt sometimes. Shah gives me pleasure too. The Colony doesn’t give me pleasure or pain. The Colony makes me functionally numb.
The lights flash, dappling themselves in a pattern that feels oddly familiar. I can feel my brain sort of slide around itself, thoughts and feelings moving like big beasts inside a tight ocean.
Everything is gone. My worries. My fears. I feel light and calm.
All is well.
“Again,” the voice behind the light says. “We will triple the treatment. She must be thoroughly flushed and voided. Don’t want her carrying vestigial memories that might make her malfunction.”
The light flashes.
I am empty.
The light flashes.
I am gone.
I’m getting ready for bed. I have cleaned my room, every inch of it with a disposable cleaning wipe. That took me two and a half minutes. That’s a new record. I hope it has been noted by the circular eye in the upper right-hand corner that sees all.
I am being watched, and that pleases me. Being watched is the same thing as being cared for. Being on display means that I must be interesting. Being interesting means I must set a good example.
I am a good worker.
My room is three feet wide by six feet long. It’s one of the larger rooms on this floor because I am one of the more productive workers in my factory. I’m quite proud of it. It has a place to sit and a place to wash. Those are all the places you need, beside one.
My bed is located in a little loft shelf tucked away up by the top window. I sleep there between the hours of ten pm and five am. I am allotted seven hours, and I like to use every bit of them.
Right now, it is 9:45 pm. I am sitting in the single chair, looking up at the bed.
I am supposed to put my pajamas on at 9:55 pm.
At 9:47 pm, I put my pajamas on. I climb up into bed. I lie there until the lights go off at 10 pm. Then I sleep.
This is sleep, isn’t it? When you lie in the dark and look at the ceiling and wonder empty thoughts that have no content but feel like yearning? My stomach is churning, and my legs are restless. I feel compelled to move. But I cannot move. It is bedtime. I am sleeping.
Am I sleeping?
I slide out of bed and go to open the door of my room. It does not open. It is locked. I frown. Since when are we locked in our rooms? It is an irregularity that makes my head hurt. It feels wrong, because I am doing wrong. If I do the right thing, I will feel good. Turning around, I get up and go back to bed. There’s nothing else to do but wait for morning.
I will work in the morning.
13
Shah
“I can’t fucking believe it!”
My own loss of Dreamy is being eclipsed by Malik’s reaction as we both watch Zeki do her level best to break out of her impromptu prison. She’s scrabbling at the locks of the shuttle, jamming tools into apertures. She’s doing damage that’s going to cost thousands to repair, but it is the last damage I’ll ever let her do.
“She’s alive,” he says. “She fucking made… she’s alive.”
“Yes. And for now, you and I are the only ones who know that.”
My thoughts are with Dreamy. I don’t care what happens to Zeki now. I mourned her when she passed, and for all intents and purposes, she did pass. I don’t know the Zeki that emerged on that Colony ship. I mourned the Zeki who was my friend, but I will show no mercy to the Zeki who took my Dreamy away.
“What are we going to do with her?” Malik sighs. “I’m so relieved she’s alive, and I’m so, so angry at her. She’s always been a handful, but this goes above and beyond. This might be unforgivable.”
He’s already forgiven her. I can tell. But he knows as well as I do that she can never, ever be part of our world again. The choices she has made mean that is impossible.
“I have an idea,” I tell him. “It’s not a nice idea, but it will keep her alive. And it’ll help us get Dreamy back.”
“Tell me.”
I outline the brief idea. Malik listens and nods. “At least that way she gets to survive,” he says. “Though I think she would hate that more than death.”