In a nightmare world ravaged by misery, the Imperium offers utopia to a select few. When Arya and Everett are recruited into this elite society, they choose to leave their homes against their families' wishes.
Naive and young, Arya and Everett are...
Standing in this corridor feels like being inside a vast steel tube. The walls and ceiling give off a dull silvery glint in the muted illumination of white bulbs and the cement floor reminds me of the town centre. As the official follows the thirty-ninth recruit, the panel behind him slides back into place, effectively caging us here.
"Please follow me," the official says, the fabric of his sturdy brown suit swishing as he walks to the front of the group and guides us down the passageway. I find myself surreptitiously checking the walls on either side for any indication of hidden doors, but even if these panels exist, they are flawlessly concealed from view.
We soon encounter a long set of stairs leading to an unseen area below. At the bottom of the stairs, there is yet another seemingly endless corridor. A few recruits start to mumble in complaint at the prospect of morewalking, but they are effectively silenced when the tall, imposing official throws a sharp look at them over his shoulder.
Despite being far from the auditorium — although I have no way of knowing exactly how far — I still can't shake off the mental image of Mick and the cold dread I've been feeling ever since his body was taken away.
Preoccupied and troubled, I unknowingly collide with Everett's back when he comes to a halt. Shifting to see past Everett's shoulder, I find a wide domed ceiling and an enormous, oddly familiar structure standing under it.
"Is that . . . a train?" I hear someone whispering in incredulity nearby. All at once I'm reminded of a grainy image of this menacing-looking high-speed vessel staring back at me from my study tablet at the Learning Centre.
Everett turns to me, baffled. "But the instructor said these things don't exist anymore . . ."
I'm nodding in response when the doors of the train fall open with a startling hiss. As the official ushers us inside, Everett and I sit close to each other inside the vehicle. Soon, the doors slide shut with a warning beep before the train begins to move, gradually at first, then picking up speed until the lights outside the windows blur into one long white strip.
When the train comes to a halt after several minutes, I sigh with relief as Everett and I step onto solid ground again. The official takes us down yet another winding corridor which opens into an auditorium with the same beautiful floor as the hall back home.
That's not home anymore, I remind myself, ignoring the knot in my stomach at the thought of my father.
"Welcome to the Imperium," a female voice says suddenly, seemingly emanating from everywhere at once. "Preliminary decontamination will commence now. Please follow the instructions in an orderly fashion."
As the voice falls silent, the opposite wall starts to shift until it transforms into a row of glass panels, each large enough for one person. Watching in fascination, I quickly count forty in total. Above the panels, a single word is engraved into the wall in large letters: Decontamination Wing — Disinfection.
"Recruits!" The official steps in front of us, his gaze sharp and steely. "Step into a panel and dispose of your clothing in the capsule. You will be provided with new suits after decontamination."
The group around me breaks into confused chatter until the official clears his throat and holds his arm out to the empty panels. Skin prickling with discomfort, I shuffle into a panel, raising my eyes to look at Everett through the glass wall separating us. He gives me a reassuring nod as each panel is sealed shut by a sliding door.
The armed official barks his orders again, his voice gaining severity with each word, "Dispose of your clothing. Now."
Chagrined by the sight of several recruits reluctantly complying, I keep my gaze on my feet as I wriggle out of my trousers and top. My eyes flit to my right for an instant and I catch a glimpse of Everett's bare torso before forcing my attention away. Mercifully, right after I'm fully naked, an opaque, odorless white gas starts to rain down, clouding the entire panel.
An eternity elapses before the gas dissolves and a neatly folded pile of clothes appears from one side of the panel. I reach for it hungrily, stepping into the pale blue shirt and trousers, softer and cleaner than anything I've ever worn.
"One more stage of decontamination to go, recruits. Follow me." The official leads us through a door at the far end of the auditorium, into a room with a disorienting array of beds, wires, and small screens.
Blinking against the harsh white lights, my heart pounds unpleasantly as I read the words engraved on the wall directly opposite me: Decontamination Wing — Memory Reconstruction.
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Hi there! Thank you for reading!
This chapter is a little longer than the previous ones, but it still falls under the 1,000 words limit. I hope to write this story with each chapter not exceeding 1,000 words.
