I stand and leave the cell, joining the throng of others towards the Hull. I am not too sure why the main sector of prison is called the Hull but perhaps it's because it is the main framework, the skeleton in which lesser ssectors join, similar to the hull of a ship.
The passage in which we walk is made of concrete and metal and lit by the fluorescent lights above. Usually, the trek to the Hull is silent, broken by the dull sound of boots against concrete or an occasional cough or sneeze which is quickly stifled. Today children are softly crying, their neighbors walking silently and disgustedly beside them. Many share my view of weakness on those who openly display their emotions.
The walk to the Hull doesn't take long, but it is often tedious and slow, with so many bodies pressed in such narrow corridors. Sometimes, fights occur. A kid might accidentally (or purposely) bump into the wrong kid on the wrong day. Unfortunate for them. Everyone knows how breaking the Rules are Punished. Fighting is a clear violation of these Rules and Punishment swiftly follows.
Eventually, we spill out into the Hull. The corridor in which we travel is lined with cells, not unlike my own. The occupants who have been here longest have cells the furthest away and will be the last to arrive. I envy that of the children with cells the closest who can simply step into the Hull from their door. My journey is long, of course, and my group last to arrive. The Hull is practically full when we enter its cavernous depths
The Hull is a large concrete and metal mass in an elongated sphere like shape, consisting of three levels. Each floor has a number of corridors leading out of it and a walkway all the way round. In the center of each level, except the lowest, the floor has been cut out in a circular shape so that those on the top level can lean down and look at the kids on the bottom level, and those on the bottom can peer up at the prisoners above. The sector of prison I belong to is located on the bottom level, the lowest floor. There is no way for me to climb levels. Sure, kids have tried suicide off the top two levels but we all know how that ends, don't we? Not nice.
Kids are still spewing out of the corridors above but in small trickles. Most are already here. I stand alone, as do many others. No one really talks, but there is the odd collection of kids comforting one another. The kids who are crying, of course. Most are staring into the cutout space between levels, waiting expectantly like we do every day.
In a burst of static a slightly blurry holographic image appears between the levels, suspended so that no matter which side of the level you're on, or even which level, everyone can see the same image. The holograph is blue-tinged, pixelated and see-through so that if I focus I can see the kids on level two also staring at the holograph with unfazed expressions similar to my own, I'm sure.
The same seal as every other day appears; the olive branch entwined by a circle border and the motto beneath written in Latin; 'mutata coniuncta populo'. Above the logo is the English translation; 'a changed and united nation'. The seal for the Organisation, our government. The Organisation's seal is accompanied by the digitalized voice of a woman, who usually speaks the same dull message every day. But today, of course, isn't every other day. Today is different. This is immediately highlighted by the bold words underneath the usual olive tree seal and motto; EXTERMINATION DAY.
"Juvenile Prisoners. Day 365; Extermination Day. Time; 7 hours and 26 minutes until the commencement of the annual Extermination. Categories of prisoners being Exterminated; A, B and C-"
I'm not sure why it was necessary to announce who is being exterminated; A, B and C is just a fancy way of saying "You're all being Exterminated motherfuckers!"
"--Proceed to the Extermination Sector for preparation."
With that final, joyful instruction the holograph collapsed, accompanied by a piercing sound of static.
Immediately, we burst into action. We know better now than to disobey direct orders.
Everyone knew where the Extermination Sector was, even if this would be our first and last time entering it. The only stretch of wall inhabited by one, large corridor, entrances to the Extermination Sector were on each level. Usually, the entrance has been barred by an impenetrable electric force field but no one was stupid enough to try entering it anyway. The electric force fields were partially invisible, but they rippled slightly and thin streams of bluish light danced across their surface at all times. The familiar hiss of their presence often was the only sound that broke the silence in the mornings before the holographic image of the Organisation's seal and that digitalized voice perpetrated through the Hull. But as soon as the holographic image dissolved today, the electric force fields had come down.
The first kid to reach it looked apprehensive and like he wanted someone else to go first. He stopped and stared nervously down the darkened corridor, its only source of light the usual fluorescent blue bulbs. Refusing to enter, he waited. Kids on the above levels were already pressing into the corridors, a slower pace than usual, perhaps, but they were still moving. No one seemed particularly eager to enter our corridor first and were standing slightly back from the first boy, wanting him to to be the leader of the pack.
"Get a move on!" a girl hissed from near the front. "It's not that fucking hard!"
The boy turned to her, annoyed, "Why don't you go, then?"
She didn't respond, just as un-eager to be the first to enter the Extermination Sector as him.
The waiting was unnerving. Almost every other kid on the above levels had entered their own corridor and the few that remained were staring curiously down at us.
"Does he want to get himself killed?" a girl muttered from beside me. The girl was a tall and willowy African-American with sharp, pretty features and a head full of tight long, braids.
Another girl answered in a bored, off-hand tone.
"He's going to die today anyway, just as we all are. How does when or how matter?"
We all knew the Punishment for breaking Rules, or direct orders like the one we had just received from the holographic digitalized voice; Proceed to the Extermination Sector. And the boy in front was breaking this order.
The same thought must've been running through his head because the boy shook himself and muttered, "fuck it."
He made a movement as if to begin walking into the Extermination Sector's corridor but he was too late. He had taken too long.
The boy started screaming instantly, high-pitched terrorized screams. He fell to the ground, shrieking and twisting around uncontrollably. Although I could no longer see him I knew what was happening. I had seen this happening countless times before; when kids fight, disobey orders, attempt suicide, lay a hand on one another (even in comforting gestures) or break the Rules. The boy was being Punished. His eyes would be rolling back, and blood would be flowing from his ears, mouth and eye sockets. Then the tell-tale cracking sound of every single bone in his body snapping at once would end his worthless life.
The African-American girl beside me muttered "nasty" in a disgusted tone as she glared up. I knew what she was looking at. There were no guards inside our prison. No patrols or security. Our lives were ruled by the implants inside us and the cameras above.
The implants were embedded deep beneath the skin of our necks. I do not know what they are or when it was placed inside me but the first day I was here, the Introductions informed me that if I ever broke the Rules, disobeyed etc. instant Punishment would follow. So whatever hellish microchip lives in my neck, it has the power to inflict Punishment, and that scares the shit out of me.
The cameras are the only sign of human control inside our prison, apart from the daily holographs. The cameras are everywhere. Nicknamed "Watchers", the cameras are hand-size, cylinder-shaped holograph-like devices that patrol our every move and follow around each and every one of us by flying along with a beelike buzz. Wherever you are, a Watcher is guaranteed to be there too. Kids have tried to break Watchers before, but the things are invincible; fists simply sink right through them. Attempting to break or disable a Watcher ends in instant Punishment, of course.
After the boy has been Punished we all push forward to enter the Extermination Sector. From the day of our imprisonment, we all knew what awaited us; Extermination. The only thing keeping us from giving up and dying of Punishment was the knowledge that they told us Extermination would be painless. How cowardly we all are, living through hell every day and obeying the Rules just because we're told that Punishment is by far the worst fate than Extermination. I despise myself because of this weakness but when I pass the Punished boy I avert my eyes. I cannot force myself to stomach the sight of his broken body and I feel the odd sense of relief when I enter the corridor towards the Extermination Sector; Punishment is evil and foul and at least after my painless death today I will know no such evil anymore.