The Green Ones

Episode 5, Part 5

The room is dark until I close the door. Lights flicker on, revealing the closet to be even smaller than I had imagined. The walls and floor are bare cement. The ceiling is some sort of acoustic tile. A single grill cover, possibly for a speaker, and two florescent lights are the only features above me. There is nothing on the walls except for the door I just entered and an identical one opposite it.

Finally I gaze at the floor beneath my feet. The most disturbing feature of the entire closet is a drain. Why would they need a drain in a room with no plumbing?

“Number 777, Calli known as Bluehair.” A voice crackles from the speaker.

I jump several centimeters before stammering, “Yes?”

“That was not a question,” the voice replies.

I frown.

“You have a brother.”

I hesitate. “Was that a question?”

“Would you like to declare your relationship to him?”

“Yes.” I respond forcefully. “I have a brother named Olin.”

After a short pause the voice continues. “Please stand still and wait quietly until the exit illumines. Green means acceptance. Red, denial.” The speaker clicks off, leaving the chamber completely quiet—not a hint of the outside world penetrating the thick cement walls.

That’s it? My initial relief quickly evolves into panic. The only reason for my interview to be so brief is if they already know the truth. All that’s left is to decide what to do with me. Or maybe they’re grilling Olin, forcing him to confess.

They know he killed Huatiani. Now they know I will never give him up. That’s all they wanted from me, to test my allegiance to my brother. I should have said more. I should have confessed. I close my eyes. The room begins to spin.

I’m getting dizzy. I realize I’m breathing too fast. I open my eyes and focus on the door in front of me. On closer examination, it’s not like the one I entered. It’s rimmed with a narrow band of lights, maybe diodes.

The tiny distraction does its job. My breathing slows. I force my mind to focus. How could they know who Olin and I are? Calm down. Don’t blow it. I repeat the mantra while watching the door. Any second it will glow green, and I’ll be a masazin.

“Calli Bluehair.” The speaker jolts back to life, jolting me with it.

I wait, every muscle in my body tense.

“You don’t know who I am, but you will soon enough.” The voice is different from before. The inflection and intimacy behind this new voice tell me he is not a regular interviewer. “I have taken a special interest in you and your brother.”

The speaker clicks off, leaving me even more tense and confused. The voice had sounded tender, too much so. But the message…why would anyone be taking a special interest this soon, unless it be connected to our past?

“Oh,” the speaker pops on again, “good luck with your placement tests, although I doubt you’ll need it.”

I feel like I’m about to explode. Not knowing what else to do, I stare at the door in front of me and pray for it to glow green. Too many fragments of questions swim through my brain. I don’t even know how to piece them together, so I stare. If anyone were watching, they might assume me dead on my feet. Maybe I am. The last two years have all come down to this.

The trim of the door begins to illumine, initially too weak to determine the hue. In a quick pulse, it pops to life—green. And the door clicks open.