More Than Imagined

Chapter 1

"Yes, I heard a couple lied on the train tracks in Site 5 holding hands earlier this morning," the woman, to Rhoawyn's surprise, answered.

"That's so romantic." Rhoawyn placed her pointer finger on the bright screen of the Ration Confirmation Module. The genetic reader scanned the ridges of her fingertip.

"I wish my Angela could have found someone to Depart with. She was so young and frightened, she almost didn't go through with it," the register worker muttered, her eyes flitting to the ribbon wrapped around her wrist. It was a frail and dingy thing, sewn with just enough thread to cling to the woman's wrinkled skin.

"Was she your daughter? How did she Depart?" Rhoawyn's eyes rounded with interest, as they so often did when the subject of Departure came up.

"Stop prying," Eva chided from behind her, tapping her finger against the metal of the conveyor belt.

"Not everyone shares the same fascination with Departure as you. Some people never stop grieving."

Rhoawyn didn't miss the hurt lingering beneath the calm of Eva's expression.

Eva's younger sister was invited to Depart a little over two years ago. Rhoawyn knew she wasn't over it. She wanted to share in her sorrow so she didn't have to endure it alone, but the grief that was a crippling wave to Eva would only ever feel like an insignificant drizzle to Rhoawyn. A consequence of being her father's daughter.

"I didn't mean to reopen any old wounds," Rhoawyn assured the old woman, who smiled at the sentiment, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"It's no harm done. To answer your question, my Angela Departed by pellet."

"The same as my younger sister," Eva mumbled.

A light ding interrupted the conversation, signifying that Rhoawyn's genetic code had been verified. The merchant woman monitored the transaction from her side of the screen, grimacing as she reviewed Rhoawyn's information.

"Your assigned number is Four. Please wait while we dispense your items." The register worker's voice pitched a little lower, her smile faltering slightly after realizing Rhoawyn's assigned number.

Rhoawyn couldn't blame her. The woman was probably a Three.

Rhoawyn turned her head to the end of the conveyer belt and watched as a small pile of items file from beneath a single black opening. There were a few packs of beans, a loaf of bread, frozen fruits and vegetables, some pasta, a jug of water, and a package of educational serums. At least there's enough there for Rhoawyn to make a few good meals for a week. Too bad her next rations trip wasn't until an entire month from now. She would just have to make due.

"Your father is a Techromancer then?" the register worker asked, voice wavering on the last syllable.

"He was."

Techromancer was the only occupation in Apex society that came with a number increase upon hire. Rhoawyn's father had gotten the position a few months after she was born, and his number raised from a Four to a Six, which also raised their family average.

The Apex decided long before Rhoawyn was born that the sum of a household's numbers would determine the life they lived. And that number would be re-averaged every time a person Departed until the household ceased to exist.

The Apex assigned both her parents the number Four at birth, so it only made sense that Rhoawyn ended up being a Four herself, even in a randomized system. And normally, a family of Fours could only ever average out at Four. But when her father achieved a position as a Techromancer because of his research on the Life-Reverse serum, he proved more valuable to The Apex than almost anyone else.