Subordinance

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

The room looks so empty with nobody in it.

No blankets, no bags, no stray articles of clothing slung over bedposts or tucked under the sheets.

The bunks are stripped, just off-white mattresses resting on springs without blankets or pillows.

Outside the door, the plaques that used to read our coordinates are blank.

In my hand I carry a Second Army-issue duffel, packed with three pairs of my combat uniform, an extra set of combat boots, enough ration packets to last me the two days on the train, and a canteen of water. The pockets are stuffed with little things like my compass or a tube of lip balm, a travel packet of tooth tabs here and a half-used bottle of lotion there. My traveling pass is pinned to the front of my dress uniform, resting against the navy of my sash.

I’m leaving today.

I really am.

After two months of non-stop drills and these final couple of days filled with testing, it’s really here.

Departure Day.

Today is arguably one of the most influential days in a Subordinate’s life, possibly the most important day, in fact. The final roster was posted at midnight this morning, and we were woken a couple of hours later with our traveling passes laid out on a table in front of the roster, our destination printed next to our name. It is hard to wrap my head around the fact that such a small, insignificant-seeming little symbol could ultimately decide whether you lived or died.

One of the border Districts like Kappa or Pi almost always meant certain death within the first couple of months.

If you were lucky and got shipped to an inland District like Lambda or Omicron, you were probably spending your days in food distribution and manufacturing or hospital work.

The higher your score, the farther out you got positioned; 2.Sigma.24.3.1.9 floated right up above next to number six.

Border Districts, here I come.

“Nine!” Rho pokes her head around the corner, quirking her eyebrows at me. “You coming?” I wave her off.

“In a minute.”

I fix my cap without the need of a mirror and take one last glance around the room I spent the first two years of my life in. The first chapter of my life is now ending, the final couple of sentences being read as I approach the elevator. Rho stands somewhat impatiently in front of it, her foot tapping to an unheard beat.

“Finally,” she says, jamming her thumb into the down button next to the elevator. “I want to make the seven o’clock train so we can be in Kappa by dinner tomorrow night. If we leave any later we’ll end up eating six straight ration-packet meals.” She shudders and her face crinkles in disgust. Ration packets are even nastier than the normal mess hall grub; they’re made to be eaten rehydrated or in their powdered state, so if either one of us runs out of water in our canteen, we’ll be stuck downing powdered ration meal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

The steel shaft rattles, the sound growing louder in volume and intensity as the elevator rises towards our floor. It stops with a shudder, the doors sliding open into the empty room and allowing us entry. Rho punches in the ground floor button, watching the doors slide closed until we begin descending to the main area of the Quadrant Wing.

“I saw you got sixth,” Rho comments, throwing a sideways glance my way. I nod.

“And you third. Are you kidding me?” She shrugs, clearly pleased with herself from the smug little smile she wears.