Of Illnesses And Antidotes

Chapter Seven

"His name was Viktor and his number was 014383. He arrived here on the 10th of February 2689 and on the 27th of June 2701, he vanished. Disappeared without a trace." Glancing up from my notes, I greet the rather confused faces of Lana, Jas and Renée and the intrigued face of Val. Her brow is furrowed, her mind contemplating the matter. She pushes her glasses further up her nose.

"But his name returned no searches on the computer." She frowns, puzzled, and eyes me sceptically. "I don't understand. How did you find this?"

"His name was Viktor, yes, but with a k, not a c." I grin triumphantly, proud of my achievement. It isn't every day you outsmart a genius like Val.

Val scowls, irritation flaring up across her face. "I should've known."

"How did he vanish?" Lana queries, perplexity staining her expression.

I shrug. "Nobody knows. Well, it wasn't elaborated any further than the word 'disappeared' followed by the date, so I assume it's still a mystery."

We're gathered in the showers, compressed into a tiny cubicle where no one can listen in on our conversation. Our voices remain hushed nonetheless; the walls are thin enough to not be soundproof and the matrons' rooms are right next door. Besides, anyone could walk in here without us knowing.

"What do we do now?" Renée's question hangs stiffly in the silence that has settled upon us.

No one dares to answer.

"You say it said 'disappeared?" Val bites her lip, and her eyes drift upwards. They sparkle with her train of thought, hundreds of ideas and theories swarming in her pupils. "Hmm." She removes her notebook from under her arm and flicks through it, right to the last few pages.

"What are you looking for?"

"Ah, here it is." Val clears her throat. She glances up at us briefly, checking we're all listening intently. Then her eyes return to the page. "Child 012965, name of Jane. Arrived on the 11th of March, 2653 and on the 11th March, 2666, she 'moved on'." The same goes for Child 039249, name of Oliver, Child 055868, name of Sara, and a small fraction of others. A rather small fraction, I hasten to add."

"What does 'moved on' mean?" Jas asks.

"It's when you turn eighteen and you get to leave," Val clarifies. "So, all three of them random strangers have left here, and so have a few others as well. However, the majority of the subjects before us didn't. I'd say that around ten... maybe fifteen percent of subjects move on." She clears her throat again. "For example, Child 023876, name of Lila, arrived on the 5th of August 2680 then on the 27th of May 2688, she died."

"How?"

"The illness killed her." A grim expression is set into Val's face. "She was only eight," she adds, in a whisper that is barely audible. "And many others have been younger than her. Much younger."

"So what are you saying, Val?" I press on. "We haven't got time to sympathise with the deceased. They're gone and we're here. We need to think about ourselves."

"What I'm saying is that there are only two ways out of here: you either 'move on' or you die. You grow up and claim your freedom or the illness claims you. No one has ever disappeared. Not a single person."

"Except for Viktor." Slowly, I nod my head, piecing together everything she's told us.

"But we never get told when someone dies," Renée points out. "Why? How does that happen?"

"Well, when someone disappears, like many people have, – but not like Viktor disappearing - we all just assume that the illness has taken them. Nobody questions it because we're all too used to seeing someone here one day then gone the next. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that they're dead. But because no one's notified about it, no reaction is sparked. Hence why when Naomi saw Zach's body, she reacted the way she did." Val pauses. "Think of it as a kettle. After the kettle's boiled, you know it's hot but you don't say it because everyone knows it'll be hot. Yet, when you touch the kettle, you feel the pain of a burn and most likely scream or cry with pain. The reaction only happens when you feel it. Or, in this case, when you've seen it or been told about it."