The Pill

20 5 5
                                    


I am happy.

At least I think I am. I am living in one of the safe zones. I have a job, a decent place to stay and I have a dinner date with Tom tonight. Even more importantly I have my arms and legs, I have my eyes and I even have my teeth.

I think I am happy.

"Lucy, are you working tonight?"

"No," I replied.

There are 35 of us working in shifts here at level 35 of the Terrain Reformation Agency. We all work with data beyond that none of us knows much about the other. Honestly, none of us wants to know more about the other. From Monday to Friday, we scan in at 8 a.m. every morning and scan out at 4 p.m. Saturdays are mandatory in-house therapy sessions followed by our weekly medical checks. Sundays are relaxation days as per agency policy.

All of the Agencies' offices and relaxation places are underground. In fact, everything is owned by the Agency. All utilities and facilities are provided by the Agency. Only the housing quarters are on the surface. As far as I can remember it's always been this way.

The surface outside of the safe zones has been uninhabitable and most of the data is collected by specially designed probes. It is sent to us for sifting and sorting. Occasionally techs are sent out to fix the probes or for recovery.

The auto lock logs me off the system and buzzes me to leave the level. I've finished my work for the day.

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"How are you today?"

"I am well."

Tom seems satisfied by my answer and doesn't ask any more questions. We never talk to each other about work as it is against Agency policy. Interestingly, we don't talk much at all on any of our dates.

"Duck?"

"What?"

"Do you want to try the duck?" he asked.

"No."

"You look tired. Duck is high in protein. It will give you energy for later in the night."

"No."

I shudder at the thought but manage to shake my head. Thankfully, he doesn't insist and returns to scrolling through the digital menu. The Agency matched us two weeks ago and set up our weekly dinner schedules. The probation period is over and tonight is meant to be our special night.

"Rabbit?"

"What?"

"Do you want to try the rabbit?" he asked.

"No."

"You look tired. Rabbit is high in iron. It will give you energy for later in the night."

"No."

I am disgusted by him and he doesn't even notice. He casually returns back to scrolling through the menu. It's Agency policy that all citizens should start dating maximum by 36 and should have a suitable partner by 40.

I am not sure what happens if we don't. I've never wondered about it before. The longer I sit here and look at Tom I can't help but feel strangely sick.

"Are you sick?"

"What?"

"Your health readings are normal but you don't look well."

"I am tired. I think we should postpone tonight."

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