Sun Spots (short story collection)

Tattoo - pt2

I found out later that someone had hacked my tattoo. Had, in fact, hacked all the Worker's tattoos. 

But that evening, all I knew was that something was wrong. The first thing I noticed was an unaccustomed headache. I never got headaches, but that night I felt achy and irritable. Nothing seemed to go right. 

Rik had decided at the last minute to eat in, instead of going out to dinner as he had originally advised. Normally I would have been thrilled, glad to have him home, but tonight I couldn't help wishing that he had given me a bit more notice. I had planned to spend the evening experimenting with a new recipe for apple pie, using some of the apples from work which would have gone to waste. But now I had to put that aside.  

Grumbling a bit to myself, I defrosted a steak, grilled it along with some fresh vegetables and took it in to him, only about five minutes later than his normal eating time. He ignored the plate of food, choosing to criticise my tardiness instead. 

"A whole five minutes late! I would have thought you were trained better than that by now, Tom." He had a deep line between his brows. Perhaps he had a headache, too, I tried to be charitable.  

He turned to the food and began to pick his way through it, testing every portion as if a beetle or something equally horrid was lurking inside. 

I stood by, waiting impatiently for him to finish. Usually I enjoyed this quiet time, but tonight I couldn't help thinking of all the things I could be doing instead. My pastry was only half done, if I didn't get back to it soon I would have to start the whole thing again. 

Finally he finished and I started to clear away. A second later, his hand gripped my wrist, painfully hard. I froze as I realised I had not waited for him to give me permission. A faint rebellious thought flickered at the edge of my mind. He had finished the meal. I could see that plainly. Was I an idiot, that I had to wait for his order to clear the table? 

I was a Worker, not a Service man who needed simple, repeated instructions. I had an important job. I worked all day, every day except Saturdays, surely I should be trusted by now to do this simple thing? 

Rik must have seen something of this foreign resentment in my face, because he struck out at me. Without thinking, I brought up my arm to fend off the blow. For a long time it seemed, we stayed frozen in place, staring at each other. It wasn't that he had never hit me before, he had, not often it is true but - sometimes. But I had never defended myself, never, until that moment. 

I could see confusion in his face, if I hadn't known he was a Soldier, I would have thought I saw fear there, too. 

"Don't hit me again," I stated between clenched teeth. I backed slowly away. My head was pounding by now, confused thoughts and feelings rushing through me, seemingly with no control. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." I turned and left before I could say anything else I would regret later. 

Why had I put up with this for so long? I was his lover, yes, but I wasn't his slave! It felt rather as if I were awakening after a long sleep. How had I let myself become so - so passive? so subservient? When was the last time I had done any one single thing for myself? Automatically I picked up the pastry and began kneading it into a ball. I wasn't asking for the moon - all I wanted was to make a fucking pie for fuck's sake! I looked down at the ball of pastry which was now as hard and tight as my fist, and tossed it in the bin. 

I had to get a grip on myself, what was happening? 

I heard the door slam as Rik went out. He didn't come back all that night. 

To my dismay, the primary emotion I felt was one of relief. I rose the next morning, prepared a leisurely breakfast for myself and went in to work, but for the first time I felt restless. Something felt different today. It took a surprisingly long time to realise I was bored. The tasks which were normally so satisfying were, today, excruciatingly boring. The same thing over and over again, for hours.  

At lunch time, instead of sitting in comfortable silence with my co-workers, concentrating on the simple meal prepared for us, we talked. Hesitantly at first, then one after another of us came out with a story about what had happened the night before, either to us personally or to somebody else we had heard about. 

I soon learned that Rik and I had got off lightly. Although many couples had come to blows, it was whispered that Soldiers had been killed in their sleep, that some Workers had committed suicide, unable to cope with the changes they felt inside. Their world turned unaccountably upside down. 

There was nothing reported in the daily news cast.  

Rumours, however, blossomed faster than yeast. Radiation had broken through the dome, causing bizarre aberrations. Something had got into the water supply, causing mass hallucinations. It was a conspiracy, a plot against the Council. Someone had hacked our tattoos and Workers had got the Shield dose meant for Soldiers, and Soldiers had got the dose meant for Workers.  

That one rang true. For it was certainly after our visit to the Clinic that I noticed the change in myself. It didn't take much of a leap for me to guess that the Shield dose for Workers contained a sedative, a drug which kept us obedient and compliant. If Soldiers had got a dose of that, it explained why so many had been caught unawares when they were attacked. 

No one knew exactly what was in the Shield dose given to Soldiers but it seemed fairly likely it included testosterone as well as the absence of sedatives. 

I wondered what I would find when I went home that night. One thing was certain, Rik and I would have to sit down together and have a long talk. I thought I still loved him, but ... my belief was shaken. How did I know what was real and what was the drugs? Would Rik even still want me, if I started standing up for myself? I didn't know. 

The world had changed and we would both have to deal with it as best we could, I thought hopefully. 

~~~ 

I woke up the next morning, still caught in the webs of last night's dream. That was a weird one! I shook my head to clear it, the details already fading. I noticed my right hand was absently rubbing my left wrist, over my caste code tattoo. 

I lay there admiring the red Hammer and Sickle for a moment, the colours seemed even brighter today.  

What was I doing lazing here in bed, when it would soon be time for breakfast? I jumped up, dressed quickly and tiptoed through Rik's room to the kitchen, careful not to disturb him. For a moment I blinked at the calendar - surprised it was already Tuesday. Where had yesterday gone? Before I could worry too much about it, I realised I must have made a mistake. I could hardly have lost a whole day! 

Shaking my head again with a rueful smile, I put eggs and bacon into the pan, cooking them just the way Rik liked. I hummed as I cooked. Just enough time to take Rik breakfast in bed and still be on time for work.