Radioactive Page 6

  Although I have now gotten used to it, she is different from the other Legion commanders. Her words speak of love and affection as though these feelings have always been a part of her. Nevertheless, I hope that she is right.

  A350 points to D560 who stands with the food tray. “I brought your food to your room so that you don’t have to face the others...”

  I know why. A489 continues to be against me and my suggestion. He would take this opportunity to humiliate me, to try to get the others to back out of this plan.

  “D560 will stay with you until you have eaten. I’ll see you at the elevator.”

  Once again she places both hands on my shoulders. “I believe in you.”

  My entire body becomes flooded with warmth. I can see the glow in her light blue eyes. I remember someone saying those same words to me. It was Finn.

  After I open the door for her, she leaves. Meanwhile D560 has placed my breakfast on the narrow table in front of the large window wall. She looks out at the vast plain.

  I sit quietly on the chair and begin to divide the bread with my hands. I cannot help but observe D560. Her gaze is full of longing. It is not the fascination and curiosity that was in my eyes when I saw the world outside the safety zone for the first time. For her it is much more. In her eyes is a deep sadness.

  Just when I begin to say something, I hear her soft, fragile voice. “I listened to you at the conference.”

  I did not know that she was there, but the thought should have occurred to me. She works in the kitchen, after all.

  “I liked the part about love,” she admits quietly and looks away from the window. Instead of looking at me, she looks at the ground.

  “What did you like about it?” I ask, trying not to let the conversation die.

  “It would be nice to have something that is worth living for.”

  She speaks as though it were an unreachable desire. Is there nothing she can hope for?

  “If you had one wish, what would you wish for?”

  Irritated, she raises her head and I can see that her light blue pupils have red veins in them. She must have cried a lot. “I would hope that it would come to an end.”

  I do not understand what she wants to tell me. “What should come to an end?”

  She looks back to the ground. “My life. My life is worthless.”

  Shaken, I get up and go around the table to her. I think about the piece of glass in her hand. She had deliberately injured herself then. But why?

  I think of how A350 would put her hands on my shoulders and try that with D560, but she flinches as if I slapped her. She steps back several feet, staring at me in horror. Reassuringly, I lift my hands to signal that I will not touch her again.

  “Do not say that,” I say. “Although everything may seem hopeless, there is always hope.”

  “Not for me,” she replies coldly and deliberately stares past me. I’ve barely touched my food.

  “Are you ready?” She asks brusquely and begins clearing the dishes without waiting for an answer.

  I want her to be happy, but I do not know what she is missing. Is she upset with her whole situation or is there more to it? I am sure many people in the safety zone are unhappy, but I’ve never seen someone who tried to self harm. The first time I saw tears was in the caves with Iris.

  “Open the door, please,” D560 asks without looking at me. She wears the tray like a shield covering her chest. She clings to it so tightly that her knuckles turn white.

  “Of course,” I reply and place my finger on the scanner. Before the door is completely open, D560 slips out and flees down the hall. Did I say something wrong?

  My heart beats wildly up to my neck when ten of the other Legion commanders and I ride the narrow elevator car down into the safety zone. A350 stands next to me. I feel A566’s breath on my neck. He stands right behind me and I have a feeling that he is having a particularly difficult time breathing. Even Finn’s breath tickled my neck, but that was a pleasant feeling. A566’s breath on the other hand gives me goose bumps, almost like a cold wind. I cannot say what is triggering this feeling. He never seemed to be unfriendly; on the contrary, he is the one who turned the balance of the vote to my favor. Actually, I should be grateful to him. He is the only other Legion commander the same age as me. We could be friends, but I doubt that will ever happen.

  With a jerk, the elevator comes to a stop. One after another we step out into the artificial light of the atrium.

  While the people had gathered in front of the elevator at my appointment, they now stand in orderly rows in front of the still veiled food counters. Through a closed-off path we walk through to a podium to the left of the new food counters.

  The other Legion commanders stand in a line behind me as I stand at the edge of the podium in front of a microphone stand. At the rebel meetings, everyone would talk wildly with excitement that would slowly come to a rest. But here no one speaks a word. Every single inhabitant of the safety zone has their eyes obediently fixed on me. Their eyes show no emotion. They look neither happy nor sad, neither curious nor bored. Their gaze is as if frozen. But I know I can break the ice. Somewhere beneath their shell of numbness are unique personalities, just waiting to be awakened. Nevertheless, it would help me in this moment to recognize one pair of eyes in the crowd. I let my gaze flow over the many faces. From up here they all look the same. They stand still, just like robots. I can feel the Legion commanders feel impatient behind me. They want me to hurry up and give my speech. Just when I want to give up my search, I see him. He stands with another fighter in front of the sickbay, which is why I did not see him immediately. But, instead of confidence and encouragement in Clyde’s eyes, I only see anger and disappointment. He stares me right in the eye and without a word tells me what he thinks about me. He thinks I betrayed him and Zoe.

  If I was not nervous before, I was now. My heart sits as though it is a lump in my throat. I can feel beads of sweat trickle down my back and across my wet forehead. The warm hand of A350 lies down on my shoulder. “Speak now!” She tells me. It is a command and not a request.

  I clear my throat. The noise can be heard throughout the atrium and reverberates and amplifies off the walls.

  “Welcome! A518 welcomes you.”

  My voice is weak and does not radiate the strength of the other Legion commanders. Of course I had thought about what I would say, but my mind is a blank. I breathe in and out and think back to A350’s words.

  “You should have no fear and you should not worry about your lines. You have worked so hard for the common food procurement system that you should only have to speak from your heart. People will feel how much it means to you.”

  “Man is a herd animal. If you were to put him alone in a cell without contact with other people, he would wilt like a plant without water.”

  It occurs to me too late that none of the people in the safety zone have ever seen a living plant. They only know them from educational instruction.

  “The reason why people survived World War III is because they joined forces. Had everyone fought for themselves, probably none of us would be here.”

  I look to Clyde. He still looks angry, but also interested. He is listening.

  “The Legion gave people a home. In the safety zone they were safe, even though the world lay in ruins. The aim of the people was to survive. Day and night they were working on a future for the generations following them. They fought for our lives.”

  Although many of the faces act as empty and as lifeless as they had at the beginning of my speech, I see a few people have a flash in their eyes. I am reaching them with my words. This knowledge gives me the strength and the courage to continue.

  “But now it is up to us to fight for our future. The first generation of the Legion gave us security. Our job is to do more. We need not only a place that is safe, but a place we can call home. We need people around us who appreciate us for who we are. We need a family.”

  I read confusion in the eyes of peopl
e in front of me. My words are new to them. Previously any kind of feeling was forbidden. But from Clyde’s eyes, I can see his disapproval has vanished. When our eyes meet, he nods approvingly. My response is a smile. A smile in front of people who have never been blessed with love or affection. My smile is supposed to be a gift to them and make them see at the same time that I mean my words. I will allow them to feel.

  Had A489 known the text of my speech earlier, he would never have allowed me to speak. He is beside himself. I can hear his sibilant voice behind me. He wants me to stop immediately. A350 tries to hold him back. She is having a difficult time of it. I may not have much time left.

  With head held high, I continue. “The atrium is the only place in the safety zone where we all come together. It is the only place where we are really all the same.”

  Suddenly I notice a change in the faces of the residents. Their eyes are torn in disbelief. I need a moment to realize it is not my words, but what is happening behind me. Seven of the Legion commanders have left the stage and rush back into the elevator. Among them, A350 and A566. What happened? The two remaining Legion commanders remain standing behind me, but instead of listening to me, they are spellbound by the listening device in their ear. This is something else that sets me apart from the other Legion commanders. The others all wear some sort of microchip behind their ear which allows them to communicate with each other at any time. I do not envy them, but I would like to know what caused their anxiety. They looked extremely panicked. I have never seen them act that way before, the same can be said for the safety zone residents in front of me.

  “Go on, but hurry up,” one of the remaining commanders tells me. Obviously whatever happened is more important than anything I could say to the people.

  I’m trying to concentrate, but I find it difficult to regain the thread.

  “From today, the atrium will be a place of meeting. A place of communion.”

  I realize that I am not succeeding in drawing the attention of the audience back to me. The sudden flight of the Legion commanders scared them. Nevertheless, I will finish my speech bravely.

  “Therefore, food allocation for all residents will immediately take place here in the atrium.”

  On my command, two fighters uncover the new food counters. Now everyone can see them. No one cheers, only a few curious glances. Not many people noticed, their thoughts are elsewhere.

  Three D-Class food allocation members take their places behind the new counters.

  I hereby open the new food allocation system. Please introduce yourselves in orderly rows to receive your rations.”

  The people obey immediately, but I expected nothing else. Especially in unfamiliar situations like this, commands are the only thing that calms them. As long as they are told what they should do, they have the feeling that everything is under control.

  I am so disappointed with my speech. It started so well in the beginning. I wanted to make a difference, but now they’re all worried. The other two Legion commanders give me a sign that it’s time to go. They’re in a hurry. What’s going on?

  I look out at the crowd one last time to see Clyde. Does he know more? I must visit him as soon as possible. Him and Zoe. We need to talk.

  The elevator doors have hardly closed when I burst out with the one question that’s been on my mind, “What happened?”

  “There was an attack.”

  Shocked, I wipe a tear from my eyes. “How many were there?”

  “Just one.”

  My heart stops for a moment and I struggle for breath. Finn.

  Once the elevator doors open, I see the broken pane. Shards of glass lay scattered on the gray floor and reflect the sun’s light. They sparkle like diamonds. How can something so terrible be so beautiful at the same time?

  He threw stones at it over and over again until the glass broke.”

  Those were the words of a Legion commander rushing past me. What was Finn thinking? Did he really think he could save his sister single-handedly? Did he think he could save me? What was his plan? To throw stones while laser beams pierce his body? Fucking idiot! How could you?

  “What happened to him?”

  I’m more afraid of the answer to this question than anything that has come before. A single word could change my life forever. But then I would have lost what I had been living for, my light on the horizon. Although Finn often acted wrongly, and would probably do it again, he is the one who saved me. He opened my eyes and showed me the way to myself. I have never stopped loving him.

  “He is being interrogated, after that it will be decided what to do with him.”

  I know the Legion’s interrogation rooms. A350 showed them to me on a tour, so there is no stopping for me. I begin to run. Everything around me is blurred into a single black mass. I walk through a dark tunnel with a bright light waiting at the end. The light is Finn.

  Breathless, I push the door to the interrogation room s. But I cannot see him because the other Legion commanders obstruct my view of the two-way mirror showing the room in which he is being interrogated. Carelessly, I nudge and make my way through the throng and see him through the cold glass. They have him strapped to a chair. He wears straps around his legs and hands, as well as his stomach and head. He is totally motionless. Around him are B-Class doctors. Obviously the interrogation has ended. What did he say to them?

  I press my hands against the glass, although I know he cannot see me.

  “What happened to him?” My voice trembles. I cannot control myself any longer. My entire body shakes in a tremor.

  “He’s a Rebel,” A350 replies simply, as though that was the answer to my question.

  “What happened to him?” I repeat again. It is difficult to not scream.

  “He attacked us,” A233 argues. But even that statement does not answer my question.

  Uncomprehendingly I shake my head and turn around to the other Legion commanders. “He’s all alone,” I start. But I am rudely interrupted by A489. “And he will die alone.”

  “No!” I shout to him without hesitation.

  A350 comes before me and blocks me from the view of the others. “It will go fast. He is not in pain,” she says. As though I care that he’s going to die in comfort.

  “You must not kill him,” I beg. “Is there no other solution?”

  Sadly, she shakes her head. But A566 answers with a loud yell, “Yes, there is.”

  Hopefully I look at him, while the others seem more irritated.

  “What are you talking about?” A489 angrily replies, but A566 completely ignores him.

  “He must not die.” His hard to interpret grin is back on his face, which usually does not bode well. “He can live.”

  But his words fill me with hope. Can he really be my savior? Can he be the one who rescues Finn before his death?

  “He will forget.”

  I do not ask what he will forget, because I already know. Nevertheless, A566 explains further. “He will forget who he is, where he comes from, and why he’s here.” A566 looks into my eyes and makes me shiver. “He will forget who he has met in life and who he loved.”

  He will forget me.

  “He will forget who he was and who he is.”

  A350 interrupts him angrily. “No way. We have never tested it. We do not even know if it works.”

  A566 just shrugs his shoulders. “What difference does it make? Either he dies immediately or after surgery. If it does not work, at least he was given a chance to live.”

  “No, I object,” A350 protests further. But A489 has other thoughts. “Why not? He attacked us, why not make it useful? After all, he came here at his own risk.”

  “That’s disgusting! We are far from being able to test it on humans.”

  “But imagine the possibilities! Those who do not know who we are cannot rebel against us,” A489 announces euphorically. He already sees a new opportunity to rob people of their humanity.

  “Why do we not let her decide?” A566 looks at me. A
m I capable of making this decision?

  I turn from the Legion commanders and look at Finn who never ceases in his fight against his bonds. Even if he knew they would break his arms and legs, he would not stop fighting. I know what decision he would make if given the choice. He would die rather than be a part of the Legion. He would never voluntarily give up his memories. They are what distinguished him. Without them, he would only be an empty shell.

  But I’m not Finn. And it is not his decision, but mine. “Let him forget.”

  “I knew she would like my suggestion,” A566 announces triumphantly.

  “But first I want to see him again. Without glass. In the same room with him.”

  A566 shrugs. “There’s no problem with it to me, he won’t remember you after the surgery anyway.”

  The other commanders have nothing against it either, so they give me access to the operating room. Once Finn’s eyes are on me, I can see the spark in his eyes that will soon fade. He will forget the love he once felt for me.

  I kneel down beside him so we are on the same level. His head is so firmly fixed in place that he cannot turn to look at me. But I know that even if he could, he would not. He is too deep seated in his disappointment.

  I bow to him and whisper my parting words in his ear. “Do not forget me.”

  08. DANGEROUS TRUST

  Angry, I pace up and down in my room while the shallow light of the moon falls gently through the large windows. But I do not care for its beauty. The only thing that interests me at the moment is Finn. I wanted to stay by his side until he woke up, but the other Legion commanders have forbidden me from seeing him. Just thinking about how lonely Finn will be when he wakes up alone in a cold cell breaks my heart. I remember exactly how I felt when I woke up with a cold, gray blanket. But to him, it will be a thousand times worse, because if it’s true what they say, he will remember nothing of his previous life. To him, the first thing he will see is a cold blanket. I want to be with him and hold his hand. I want to put his head in my lap and whisper soft words into his ear. I want the first thing he sees to be my face. Perhaps then he would remember. I will not give up hope. We have experienced too much for it all to be taken away by a single operation.