Subordinance

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

A week later, after the somewhat painful routine of getting myself dressed, I’m sitting at breakfast with the mess hall in a sort of groggy quiet. I languidly swirl my coffee cup, watching the russet-colored liquid for a bit before taking a few lukewarm sips. Rho sits across from me, not as comatose as the rest of us but equally as quiet. Her silence, however, is a completely different kind; the assessing expression she has and the relaxed set of her shoulders suggests that she’s observing the world around her.

I can’t quite figure out why, though.

Though the quiet of the room breaks when the freckled Subordinate that sleeps in the bunk below me comes skidding into the room, swinging to a stop on the door frame of the mess hall.

“First roster’s up!” he shouts before swinging back around and running back to where ever he came from. There’s an eager murmur that ripples through the mess hall, accompanied by the hurried scraping of chairs and clattering of cutlery and glass.

Rho’s observing stare breaks and she looks at me with a glimmer of excitement in her eye, the kind that expresses the expectation of greatness. She jerks her head in the direction that the crowd is flowing in. “Let’s go!”

I down the remainder of my coffee and scrape whatever the breakfast was into the garbage, wriggling my way out of the pack of Subordinates trying to do the same. Rho’s already jogged her way ahead of the crowd, slipping into the back of the elevator before everyone else has a chance to. Once I catch up to her, I punch her in the arm.

“Thinking of leaving me behind already?” I say sarcastically as the Subordinates press into the enclosed space.

“Sure, Nine. Sure.” The elevator rattles with the settling weight of so many bodies crammed into such a small area. The elevator doors close, sealing in the pack of people, all fidgeting and tittering with the same eager anticipation. The claustrophobic feeling of so many bodies and so little space leaves me speechless, so I settle with what I hoped was an encouraging smile.

More of a pinched grimace, I’d say.

In short, I’m very thankful when the doors open again and the Subordinates spill out, expanding into a larger pack all flooding in the same direction. The stampeding sound of boots against concrete is nearly deafening, getting louder and faster the closer we are to the Dome.

And the rosters.

After every trial or drill we do in the Dome, we’re ranked by our Sector Leaders in terms of skill and completion. Those scores and the combined thoughts of the Sector and Division Leaders can and will greatly influence your ultimate position assignment, which we will be receiving in little less than two months time.

Thusly why every single Subordinate in the mess hall decided to pile into the eight-by-eight elevator when we on a normal day we have problems sharing a bathroom.

By the excited shouts and embarrassed laughter I can tell that these past few days of trials were harder on some than others. Every day it’s been the same idea, set in a different landscape with different targets thrown our way and a different end goal. Every time it’s ended with me blacking out on the Complex floor before slugging my way up to bed with bruised limbs and aching muscles.

I’m pushed from behind by a clearly overeager Subordinate and squished up against the massive body in front of me. He turns, his brutish face twisted into a grin as he high fives one of his bullish buddies beside him. Once he moves, I’m able to see the rankings clearly, the coordinates neatly typed on the screen in front of me. I scan the numbers, searching for a familiar number.