Space-time: 1300 hours

Planet: Zyborg 

Region: Pharnal

                     

I'm running through the bushes, the thorny branches lashing and whipping at my face. The stinging pain is lovely; I savor it. Blood runs down my cheeks, mixing with my sweat. The wind pushes me along, cooling my damp shirt. I can see them. I'm almost there; I can make it. A few yards ahead of me are massive concrete tunnels, shrouded by thick vines. I can make out the faces of the people waiting on the other side; their brows furrowed with worry. I'm frantically stumbling through the tunnel when booming shouts echo around me.

 

 

 

Continuum: 50078

 

On the planet Zyborg, we filed in like a line of ants, already anticipating our interaction time. The only sound echoing off the vaulted ceilings was the scuffling of feet. This was our weekly routine—the ten minutes out of our week that we could truly socialize with others. Any time there was a rebellion, interaction time was reduced to five minutes. After carefully studying our behaviors and reactions each week, the scientists chose a compatible companion for us. In this quarter, they were constantly watching and analyzing your every move. Being born into this life was a luxury—not to waste time thinking or feeling. I was grateful to be protected from the opinions others would invariably project onto me. But every luxury must be paid for. Essentially, I was numb, incapable of feeling.

 

Before interaction time came treatment time, without fail, we took a pill for our health. I was well aware of the consequences of defying these orders. A lifetime sentence of solitary confinement was among the most common. Slowly inching closer to the front of the line, the blank white countertop of the medicine distribution station came into view. Behind me was an elderly lady, and in front of me was a little freckled redhead girl, scarcely past her fifteenth continuum. She sneezed, and there was silence as everyone turned around to glare at her. In this society, it is best to be inconspicuous and to shy away from attention. I had been here for seventeen continuums, my whole life, and it was approaching the time for me to be allocated to the adult department, where I would be matched with a suitable partner for the rest of my life. This quarter only housed the elderly and young; the adults had a separate quarter. Staring blankly at the gray, cement wall of the cafeteria, I counted its fissures and cracks. Approaching the counter now, an olive-skinned, elderly lady placed a tiny pill in the palm of my hand, scarcely larger than a grain of rice. Beside her head, I glanced at a camera's unsettling red blinking light before hustling over to my table.

 

Beelining towards my table to finish eating in time for my weekly interaction, the toe of my shoe caught an uneven tile. I went sprawling face down towards the grimy tiled floor. Ogling at the cracked floor in front of me, I noticed a white speck in a sea of brown. Wedging my finger in the crack, I only succeeded in forcing the pill deeper. My nails became cracked and bloody from repeatedly cramming my hand into that impossible gap. I could feel the layers of dirt and grime building up under the whites of my nails. Glancing over my shoulder from my position on the floor, I became aware that, to my dismay, there was a line forming behind me. Scrambling to my feet and dusting off my tracksuit, I rushed to my table, horribly aware of the scene I had caused. 

 

Allowing the black fabric of my uniform to soak up the blood from my fingertips, I studied my hands, noting the waterfall of red gushing from my cuticles. Although my hands, calloused and blistered from work in the uranium pits, were glazed in crimson, I never experienced any inkling of pain. I don't feel anything. Even when the days in the mines became long and I was as much of a part of the rock as it was the earth, I never suffered. The barbed whips used to transform my back into a mangled mass of skin never truly struck home either. A chiming bell, announcing the start of interaction time, dragged me from my thoughts and to the more important issue at hand. As I stood up and followed the line of prisoners toward the socialization cells, I knew there was no possibility of avoiding punishment. The cameras saw and knew all, and frankly, I did not care how or when my worthless life ended. Sooner or later, they would find me out and undoubtedly invent a deserving punishment.

 

This was my only thought as I was escorted into the interaction cell. Entering through the transparent, soundproof door, I was met with a considerably sized window, taking up almost the entirety of the wall in front of me. For a cell to be this large was rare, not to mention overlooking the unforgiving jungle of Pharnal and the darkness that loomed above it. Zyborg and Malha, the neighboring planet, were one of the few planets in the Terranean String whose climate was inhabitable. The inhabitants of other neighboring planets never got a chance to step out of their shelters and structures. The room's furnishings were scarce, the only ornamentation being two metal, stiff-backed chairs facing each other. Both the arms and legs of the seats held shackles to prevent direct physical contact between inmates, which scientists claimed could affect the brain. Stiffly perched on the edge of the chair closest to me, I felt a guard clasp the unforgiving iron manacles on both my arms and legs. Even the chair I was sitting on could not move, as if it were cemented to the floor itself. 

 

Craning my neck to study the land beyond the confines of the glass pane, I observed the neighboring planet. It was a mauvish color and one of the few planets that were inhabitable outdoors. Observing the ebony sky above the purplish planet, occasionally graced with specks of twinkling white, I marveled at a shooting star. Looking closer at it, it seemed to be growing in size—a ball of fire. A little girl standing outside her home on the neighboring orb seemed to notice it too, pointing to it with her chubby little hand. Only mere feet separated the planets. Turning her head to the left, she spotted me, staring at her in her yellow dress. Her lips moved as if she were speaking to me. All she could do was point to the growing star, looking at me helplessly with contorted features. Even as the star inched nearer, she didn't move an inch. I struggled against the iron cuffs, rubbing my skin raw.

 

As the flaming meteor crashed into her planet, my cell vibrated with the force of the collision before all was silent. The air was cloudy with ash and debris, and when it finally cleared up, all I could see was a colossal crater, where her home once was. Suddenly, agonizing pain devoured me. Was I going insane? I could not breathe. My face soon became damp as I grappled with something I could not name. My eyes burned as awareness swept through me, filling all the places that were once empty. I could feel it in my bones as if the universe had snapped. Looking back towards the jungle, an idea sparked. Just then, my companion walked in. Schooling my face into a blank mask of neutrality, I acknowledged my companion. Feigning indifference, I casually conversed with her, ignoring the fact that my world had been turned upside down. I could never reveal what I had discovered.