Evita
Sometimes I think about what I'd be doing if Sheer had never trapped me in this place. It's not hard to imagine. I'd be studying or working at the Department of Energy. I never deviated from my routine. Still, I miss the comforting weight of a screen in my hands, flicking through the pages of a book. Being able to interact with the screen in the Solar Room yesterday made my ache for home more intense. Now, sitting in the library, I clasp my hands together, as if holding my fingers still will quiet my brain as well.
Nadya walks out from one of the aisles, pushing a cart in front of her. It's so strange seeing her without the IV stand. She already moves more freely without it, even though she's still unsteady on her feet. The whole facility has felt...off since the yellow and purple trials ended. The absence of the IV stands is most noticeable, but the people have changed as well. There's more laughter, more test subjects hanging out in the common areas instead of lying comatose in their beds.
Tasia remarked on it when we were together yesterday. If I, a newcomer, noticed something was up, of course she would feel it too.
"It doesn't make sense," she'd said, sitting up from where she'd been reclining in a chair. We were by the fountain in the Solarium. Neither of us were required to spend time there, like the green group was, but it was still our favorite place to hang out.
"What?" I'd asked.
"They just moved me to the purple group," she'd said, picking a blade of grass. "Why would they do that if the study was about to end?"
I'd looked out at the waterfall, trickling over the rocks, not too quiet, not too loud. I bet they designed it to be as soothing as possible. "What if they didn't know it was about to end?"
She'd frowned. "Why do you say that?"
I'd hesitated. Would she take me seriously, or brush off my concerns like Dale did?
She'd taken my hand then, her eyes worried. "If you know something, you have to tell me."
Her hand was warm over mine. I've only known her two weeks, but already Tasia is the closest thing I've ever had to a best friend. I told her then, about everything I overheard. I readied myself to hear the same denials Dale had spouted. 'They wouldn't do that.' 'You must have misunderstood.' But they didn't come. She'd believed me.
Now, Nadya sees me and wheels over the cart. "Can you help me with these?" she asks.
I lean back, my eyes wide. This may be the first time she's ever initiated a conversation with me. I nod quickly and stand to help her, not about to let her gesture pass unrecognized. Besides, it will be a relief to get away from Brandt's gaze. He's in the corner of the room, still watching me, no doubt under the orders of Sheer.
We spend the next ten minutes or so shelving books before Nadya gets tired and we stop to let her rest. I park the cart by a pair of yellow armchairs, separated by a round table with a flower pot on it. The leaves are brown and crunchy. The dirt in the pot is dry, and looks like it might blow away at the smallest gust of air.
Nadya sits, but I face the plant. "Poor thing," I say, straightening one of the stems only for it to droop back down once I let go.
She speaks, looking down at the plant. "It's lucky." I'm startled by her voice. She hasn't spoken since asking me to help her.
I frown. "What do you mean?"
"It can rest now," she says, her hands folded in her lap. "It must be hard for it to pull water up through its roots, day after day. But it doesn't have to anymore."
My eyes widen, and I look from Nadya to the plant. She might be technically right, but then what's the point? Isn't there more to life than trying to avoid pain? I think back on my life so far, and can't find much evidence that there is.
Sighing, I stand up and walk to a shelf with gardening tools. Because plants are distributed throughout Elysia, there are also stashes of trowels and watering cans scattered about. I hold the watering can over the dying plant, and tilt it until water sprinkles out over the leaves and dirt.
I can't just sit here and let myself waste away like this plant. No one in this facility wants to fight, and it's starting to irritate me. It reminds me of a story I heard once, about elephants. When elephants were more than pictures on a screen, they used to perform in circuses. And because it's so difficult to control such a huge animal, the circus started training the elephants from a young age. They chained the baby elephants to a stake they'd pounded deep into the ground. The elephant, still so young, was too weak to pull up the stake.
Eventually it gave up trying.
Once the elephant grew up, it was strong enough to pull up the stake, but it never did. They'd conditioned it to think it couldn't.
I can't help but see the parallels to the test subjects in Elysia. Everyone's happy with a mediocre, or sometimes less than mediocre, life, despite the fact that they're being kept here against their will. I pause, pondering for a moment. If the test subjects are the elephants, then what's the stake?
I look through the library window into the hallway and my eyes alight on one of the doors leading out of Elysia. The light for the alarm glows red, as always. It strikes me that I've never seen a test subject walk through the door without a guard swiping their badge first. I don't even know what would happen if they did. What if that's it? What if the door alarm is actually harmless, a trick created by the guards to keep us from running?
What if that's how Trenton escaped?
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Author's note: Thank you so much for reading! Please don't forget to vote if you liked this chapter :).