Habitat, page 21
part #1 of The End Series
“You must go, Bram. Use the back way. Take my car and identification. Listen to me,” my mother was screaming with tears streaming down her face, and I understood. I understood so many things.
Ellis and I were running for our lives. We had to escape the Habitat. Mom shoved the keys, identification badge, and a paper into my hands. She raced to her desk and came back with a medipen she jabbed into Ellis’s arm.
“The medicine will sedate her in fifteen minutes and will last about four hours. Leave now and once outside the Habitat, read this paper. It will tell you where to go, but don’t contact me because it will be unsafe. I’ll meet you when I can get away. Do you understand?” I didn’t answer immediately. “Do you understand? There is no time to explain. Use this for money; it can’t be traced.” She handed me a money card and began pushing me to Ellis. “The officials will be here in minutes, and I need…I have to plan a convincing story.”
I had never seen my mother cry this much. She shoved supplies into the satchel Dr. Bauer had brought and looped the bag around my shoulder. We both pulled Ellis to her feet, and she didn’t resist. I felt her body relax against my pull, and I knew the medicine had begun to work.
“I love you, son,” she said. “Now go, hurry. Be careful. I believe in you,” she said. As she pushed Ellis and me toward the back hall, Mom ruffled my hair.
I tried to keep calm and alert. Around any corner, someone might have been waiting to catch us. My actions weren’t just affecting me. Now, many lives were depending on me making the right decisions. Ellis had begun to move more sluggishly, and though I was thankful the drug was keeping her calm, I wish she’d move faster.
An elevator took us to the underground garage, and from there, we had several checkpoints to cross. Thankfully, it was after hours for the workers, and the majority had gone home. The garage was empty. We hurried to my mother’s car, looking around to see if anyone was watching and Ellis slumped to the ground. I held her tighter around the waist and began half dragging, half carrying her to the car. I’d never make it through the checkpoints with an unidentified person in the car—especially one who was unconscious.
When I opened the trunk to store Dr. Bauer’s bag, I knew what had to be done. I picked up Ellis and placed her in the trunk. Her expression didn’t change. Luck was with me, or I couldn’t have put her there. Her eyes closed, and I leaned in to shake her, but she didn’t wake. “I’m sorry, Ellis, but I have to do this.” I knew she couldn’t hear me, but it didn’t matter. I looked at my watch and memorized the time, so I could judge when she may regain consciousness. With every bit of emotional strength I had left, I forced myself to close the trunk. Once in the car, I checked myself in the rearview mirror. I was sweating. My right sleeve had the blue stain of our blood. I stopped the car, rolled up my sleeve, so the stain was hidden, smoothed my hair, and wiped away the sweat. If I kept my cool, I could make it past the next checkpoint.
I drove toward the garage exit, where the guard station was. I lowered the window and held out my identification badge to swipe. The guard from within the station looked at me and spoke. I answered, and he turned to another monitor. As the gate opened, I breathed a sigh.
“Wait,” he said. I panicked as I hit the brake. “You can’t leave,” he said in our language. I thought about barreling through the checkpoint and remembered I still had to board the transport to leave the Habitat. “Your badge,” he said. “You can’t get back in without it.” He laughed. “Have a good evening.”
CHAPTER 22
I always wanted a child. From the time I was young, I thought being married and having a child was a perfect life. I wanted to have the same incredible family I had as a young boy. My mother and father had a wonderful marriage, and I wanted the same for myself. When I accepted the appointment to study the Habitat from within, I couldn’t say no. Part of my assignment, aside from my research, was to assimilate myself into society. I was not the only Atum to play a role, but I was the only one to receive a human child to raise in the Habitat. When I held her for the first time, I thought she was the most exquisite creature I had ever seen. I named her for my mother, Ellissyanaistra. She is my Ellis, and I will devote my entire life to her happiness.
—Dr. Alex Bauer
Private Journal
February 16, 2035
OUTSIDE
I LOST TRACK of time and woke only long enough to drink when Bram told me I must. I remembered a night and a sunrise. Mostly, I remembered wanting to sleep and escape the pain.
Bram eased onto a dirt road with turns and twists around a thick forest. I couldn’t muster the strength to worry about my safety. I would go wherever he took me, and I had no concern for what I left behind, including my mother. She made her true feelings known when the officials were ransacking my room. Seeing my father lay on the floor of Dr. Adler’s office drained what motivation I had to survive. I recalled the blue liquid gushing from his wound. How could that be? How couldn’t I have known? I agonized over Ana’s fate. If someone murdered her for trying to pass me information, I would drown in guilt. I had never known this amount of sorrow, and I doubted my ability to survive the crippling torment.
“This is it,” said Bram, turning to me with a tender smile. His hand reached for mine, but I pulled away first. I looked through the window of this unusual car, saw a strange landscape, and could find no joy in its newness. A month ago, I dreamed of what the world looked like beyond the wall. I should have been grateful for the freedom to experience it now. This world was reality, and I had lived in a scripted and directed stage play. I stared without speaking. I didn’t want to live any life, inside or outside the Habitat. Misery consumed me. I thought of Mrs. Young and the anguish propelling her toward suicide. Before, I never understood. That’s what my dad had tried helping me comprehend. Memories can be wonderful, but they can be excruciating. I wanted to sleep and forget.
I hadn’t realized Bram was missing until he appeared at my car door. He opened it and held out a hand I refused. I didn’t know how long he would continue to make an effort, nor did I care. I stood up with the bag my father brought to Dr. Adler’s office, and I followed Bram toward a house built with dark, wood logs. This design reminded me of those I read about in a Laura Ingalls Wilder book, but I believe her home wasn’t this large. We stepped onto a sizeable porch lined with wooden chairs that rocked. I had only seen those in the newborn ward of the Horizon Hospital. Bram watched me from the corner of his eye. I don’t know what he thought I might do, but he continued to stare.
As the door opened, he stepped back, offering for me to go ahead of him, which I did without speaking.
“I’ll make tea,” he said. “Can I take your bag?”
“No,” I replied, stepping back from him.
He carried bags of supplies to the large kitchen overlooking a lavish room with views of the lake. It was unlike any design I had seen before in Horizon, and it might have been impressive in another life. I walked to the window and watched the darkening sky. Lights resembling fire torches lined a wooden balcony. The same stars beginning to glimmer hung over Horizon, and no doubt shone just as lovely. Here, the rising full moon cast a magical glow on a light mist hugging the lake. The view should have inspired me to comment. Instead, despair and cold, dark wretchedness rendered me unmotivated. I was empty. There felt like a hole where my heart should be. I had nothing to give and wanted nothing in return.
I sat in a chair, consumed by my own thoughts. I didn’t hear Bram behind me at first. I flinched, and he apologized. None of this was his fault, but I needed someone to blame. I remembered Ana at the Fountain telling me she needed someone to be angry with—now, I understood. I had come to understand so much in the last few days. Why people would consider death over a life of pain, why people needed to target their anger, and why my family had been a complete mystery to me. I understood why aliens didn’t want humans to walk around, feeling these horrible emotions. Earth wouldn’t be a very nice place to live if everyone felt the way I did at this moment.
“Here, try this.” He handed me a cup with a peace sign logo on the side.
I lifted it to my mouth and stopped. “Is it drugged?” I asked bitterly.
“Sorry, all out of drugs.” He smiled hesitantly, hoping to see a whisper of kindness left in me. My expression must have offered encouragement; he smiled. I didn’t want him to find softness in my demeanor. I wanted him to hurt as much as I did. He walked away without speaking, and oddly, I felt easier because no matter what happened in the last days, this man cared for me. He was trying to help me in any way I’d allow, and I had unintentionally shown him a speck of tenderness with the tiniest reaction.
The tea was warm and soothing. I sipped it in total silence. Aromas and sounds drifted from the kitchen. He was cooking for me. My stomach lurched anticipating food. It must have been a while since I last ate. I stood and walked toward the sound. He didn’t hear my approach, and I found him engrossed in chopping and stirring.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” He looked up, surprised.
Overcome with emotion, I couldn’t answer, so I turned away.
“I’m happy I can be here for you,” he replied and returned to his cooking. As soon as he finished speaking, I knew he would try to console me. He didn’t. A twinge of disappointment rolled over me. He’d never stopped trying to comfort me even when I pushed him away. Now, he turned away, and when he did, I felt drawn to him. I wasn’t trying to play cat and mouse games. I was so confused but knew I didn’t want him to stop caring. I walked to his side and stood by him unmoving.
“I need time,” I whispered.
“And you’ll have it—as much as you need.” He stopped stirring and fixed his gaze on me.
Dinner was delicious. We ate sautéed vegetables I had never seen, along with a grain similar to rice, and fish he had caught in the lake a month before. We sat together, not speaking.
After we finished, Bram led me to the place I would sleep. He offered to start a bath for me, and I accepted. Inside the wood-planked bedroom was another small room. He opened the door to reveal an ample closet. Clothes hung in rows along the walls, and dressers beneath contained glass drawers full of folded items. I had never seen so many clothes for one person. They were unlike the kind we had at home. The colors were vibrant, and the fabrics varied. Nothing looked worn or old. I’d never had anything new. He opened a drawer and pointed out different underclothes and nightclothes. These were his mother’s things. I broke away from my own grief long enough to realize I didn’t know if Dr. Adler was okay. “Your mother,” I began.
“She won’t mind you wearing any of this.”
“No, I mean, how is she?”
“She is miserable and worried,” he replied. “While you get your clothes, I’ll start your bath.”
I hadn’t expected that answer. I remembered Dad saying too many times people ask how someone is and they don’t want an honest answer. They want fine, good, okay, but not the truth or a response too complex. I didn’t want to be that person anymore.
Dr. Adler and I were not the same sizes, but I would find something. It shouldn’t have been easy going through someone’s personal things, but I imagined her willingness to help me. I chose a pair of underwear, pants, and a matching top. I assumed this clothing was used for sleeping. I had never felt anything so soft.
I walked to the bathroom where Bram waited by the entrance. He motioned for me to come inside the unusual room. We didn’t have bathrooms this large or unique in Horizon.
“This bottle is for hair, this one is bath gel, and these are bath oils. Is it the right temperature for you?” he asked.
I stood staring without speaking long enough for him to repeat his question. I remembered the night my father took care of me in the bathroom after Mrs. Young killed herself. He washed my face as if I were still a baby. Tears fell.
“Hey, hey, no. It’s okay.” He stepped forward to console me and then stopped. I had not let him touch me since that last day in Horizon. He didn’t want to be rejected again, and I understood the conflict he felt.
“You could change and go straight to bed. It’s whatever you want, Ellis.”
I discarded the memory of my father caring for me and flashed to the memory of the first time Bram said my name. The rush of feelings for him at the Archives flooded my brain. I leaned over the tub and scooped my hand through the water. I stepped closer, “Thank you. The water is fine.” I wanted to reach for him, but I couldn’t.
“If you need anything, call. I will be in the kitchen cleaning dishes. Put your old clothes here, and we can wash them tomorrow. I laid a toothbrush near the sink for you beside the towels, washcloths, and sponges. Wave your hand over the type of water you want to dispense.” He showed me. A mixture of sadness and anger filled my mind. The citizens of Horizon were ignorant of the real world. Our keepers withheld so many remarkable inventions and so much beauty from us. He walked to the door with no other words and closed it behind him.
I undressed and eased into the bath. I allowed my hand to hover above the oversized spout. I was grateful for the sound of running water masking the sound of my sobbing.
I considered how my world, no, my universe, had changed. The future was a blank sheet for me, and I didn’t know what path lay ahead—or if a path existed at all. After I finished bathing and dressing, I saw a robe hanging at the door and put it on as well.
When I came from the bathroom, the bedcovers were pulled back. These sweet, thoughtful gestures continued, and I felt my anger toward Bram melting away with each new morsel of kindness he offered. On the nightstand lay a steaming cup of tea and a small dish containing a cookie. A cream and yellow striped bedside chair held my father’s bag. I took it and crawled into the large bed, hugging it to my chest. I’d never sleep in my bed, nor see my home again. I looked inside the bag and noticed the randomness of the items it contained. Inside was a first aid kit, books, folders, and a mini data drive. There was my Jane Austen book Dad had given me along with the necklace I often wore. I picked up one of the books, and out fell the photo of my dad and me. The photo survived the government official dropping and breaking its frame the day of The Beginning Celebration. A shard of broken glass no doubt made the long scratch which ran down the middle of our image—a visual reminder of being separated from my father. I collapsed into tears.
“Ellis?” Bram called from the outside the bedroom door. “Can I help?”
I needed him. I jumped from the bed and rushed to the door. There he stood. Concern covered his face. I paused and threw myself into his arms. “Stay with me,” I said, my face buried into his chest.
He led me to the bed, lifted the covers, and waiting for me to slide in. He pulled the covers up and then took the bag my father gave me and put each item into it except for the picture of my father and me. Bram looked at it, smiled, and stood it against the base of the bedside lamp. He looked at me. Without words, he leaned over to kiss my forehead, then pulled the chair closer to the bed, and sat.
“Don’t leave me.”
“I will stay with you as long as you want me.”
“You can’t sleep sitting up the entire night,” I said.
“Don’t worry about me, Ellis. I promise to be here when you wake.”
And he was.
CHAPTER 23
The last thing I remember was a struggle between Dr. Bauer and myself. He’d been shot by the inspector and had returned a shot. After Inspector Ryder fell, Dr. Bauer turned toward me. His wound looked serious. I believed he might shoot me as well, so I rushed by him toward the door. He grabbed me and shoved me backward, which must have caused me to fall, hitting my head. I have no idea how long I was unconscious. When the officials awakened me, I was told Dr. Bauer was dead, and Ellis had vanished.
—Dr. Claire Adler
Official Interview Report
August 2, 2052
PROOF
I DIDN’T WANT to wake Bram, who faithfully slept in a chair the entire night just so I might feel safe. Whatever happened or would yet happen between us, he was the one person in the world I had to depend on.
Quietly, I eased from the bed and picked up the satchel laying against the side table. I opened the door to the bedroom, hopeful it wouldn’t make noise. I walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of juice. Carrying Dad’s satchel, I stood at the gigantic windows and looked out. The sun rose on a lake so smooth it appeared one could walk on top of it. I unlatched the door and stepped onto the balcony. The torchlights from last night weren’t actual torches. They were solar lights. I sat in a wooden chair beside a small table. A slight morning chill hung in the air; I pulled my robe tighter. Bram saw me in my nightclothes and slept in my bedroom. Those intimacies weren’t allowed in Horizon. Our rules frowned upon unmarried couples having overnight guests. I now understood how manipulated our lives had been in the Habitat. For the rest of my life, I’ll wonder what parts were real and what was orchestrated.
Gloom engulfed my senses. Gravity forced its invisible weight heavy upon me; I struggled to breathe. The bag shifted in my lap; I had to focus. I needed to plan my next move. I reached into the smooth leather satchel and pulled out the first of its contents. There were many folders filled with papers I’d never seen. They were bound by a rubber band with an attached note from Ana. It read, “Revolution has begun. Would you rather live one day as a lion or a hundred years as a lamb?” I unbound the folders and opened the one on top fearing what I might read. This information caused Ana’s disappearance—I knew it, deep within my soul. Now, I had to accept responsibility for Mr. Hap, Ana, my father, Dr. Adler, and now Bram. This catastrophe began with me trying to find the truth. Me. I did this. I caused everything, but I was alive and safe. Where was everyone I’d involved in my quest for the truth? Dead? Tortured? Reprogrammed? Without warning, large tears fell. I felt black, vicious anger at everything and everyone, but mostly with myself. I didn’t want Bram to hear me crying. With the folder over my face, I tried to stifle the sound. I wanted the anger, the grief, and the guilt out. I sat there rocking back and forth, for what seemed like a lifetime. With every inhale and exhale, I tried to release every hateful emotion knotted inside. At last, I opened my eyes and realized gravity had released her hold on me. The weight I felt was gone. I looked up into the rising sun. “Enough,” I whispered aloud, “enough now.”
