Chapter 2: Aiden and Michelle
“Erin… ERIN!”
A familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts and, looking up, I saw my best friend Aiden. Aiden and I had met at work, although he was an electrician not a mechanic.
“Hey,” I responded, surprised to see crowds of people milling around me. In fact, I was the only one in my vicinity still working. The rest of the factory was slowly making their way back to their tables.
“Where have you been all day? I missed you at lunch.” Aiden sat down on the bench across from me.
“Lost in thought, I guess,” I replied haltingly. “Wait, shit! I missed lunch?” I was suddenly frantically aware that I’d skipped a meal.
“Don’t worry,” Aiden responded with a reassuring smile that was half a smirk. “I got them for you.” He looked around to make sure no one was watching, then held out his right hand, palm up. In it were my lunchtime pills. He must’ve used my ID number to get my meal for me, and with it my desperately needed medication. I downed them both at once, and just as they were sticking in my throat, Aiden handed me a glass of water.
“You want this too?” he asked holding out a sandwich. I shook my head, clutching my stomach. “More for me then,” my friend grinned and devoured the small sandwich in 3 bites. I quickly drained the water glass and hurried to return it to the food nooks before they closed.
“Oh well,” I said as I slid back onto the bench, “at least I got my overtime out of the way now.”
“Hey what’s goin’ on with you today, friendo?” Aiden asked through a mouthful of my lunch. “It’s not like you to miss happy hour.” ‘Happy Hour’ was what he called it when I got another dose of painkillers because it was when I was the least miserable.
“Yeah I know,” I replied. “Just been lost in thought I guess. I ran into this really weird guy on the way to work. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Weird how?” He asked. I leaned in across the table.
“I think he might’ve been a rebel,” I responded in a hushed voice. “He clearly wasn’t from textiles. And he had a paper map of Seattle, only everything was labeled wrong.” I left out the part about him giving me the piece of paper; trying to recruit me, because I didn’t want to freak Aiden out when we were at work surrounded by people. I was really regretting being late taking my pills. The pain was shrieking down every nerve in my skull and the opiate hadn’t kicked in yet. Aiden noticed and lowered his voice to match mine.
“Wrong how?” He asked in a hushed voice as he picked up the circuit board he’d been detailing before lunch. I quickly picked up my own tools and automatically started a simple repair I’d done a thousand times, glancing around to make sure no one else had noticed my strange behavior. Everyone around us was going about their work as usual as far as I could see. My eyes stung from glancing towards the window wall behind me and I rubbed them absentmindedly. I decided to take a leap.
“Aiden,” I started and he leaned in. I only ever used his name when I was about to say something serious. “Have you ever heard of something called the Seattle Rejects Camp?” For an instant I thought I saw him frown but it was so brief I decided it must’ve just been a face twitch.
“I don’t think so,” he responded, sounding interested. “What is it?”
“That’s just it,” I answered. “I have no idea.” I shrugged my aching, hunched shoulders and struggled to get my thoughts in order as the painkiller finally kicked in and started to dull my senses. It was a relief that my head was no longer screaming at me but it was hard to concentrate. “There was this- area,” I continued haltingly. “On the map. Marked Seattle Remnants Camp.”
“Rejects, you mean,” Aiden corrected me.
“Right, that’s what I said, Seattle Rejects Camp.” Aiden ignored the mistake and looked at me, urging me to continue. “I’m not sure what it is. I think there might have been more writing about it. But I didn’t get too good of a look. It looked huge though, like way bigger than here, maybe half the size of Seattle.” Suddenly I wasn’t too sure anymore. My mental image of the map was getting fuzzier.
“Well I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Aiden said. “You said the guy you met seemed like a dissenter, right? Maybe it’s one of their bases.” That gave me doubts. Aiden might be right. The term ‘Seattle Rejects’ could very well refer to rebels who couldn’t find a way to acclimate to life in Seattle.
“But why would it be so close to the city if that was the case?” I pointed out, my voice still lowered, my thoughts still moving slowly. “I mean on the map it looked almost walking distance. Wouldn’t dissenters be scared of getting caught by Seattle ROs?” Aiden shrugged. “If it were me,” I continued, contemplating, “I’d go up into the mountains. Where it would be easier to hide.”
“Well what else could it be?” Aiden asked, sounding uninterested, eyes on the complex circuitry in front of him. “Maybe it’s a giant rectangular swimming pool, or,” he gasped melodramatically, “maybe it’s a gold mine! Pop over and fetch me some will you? The plating on these circuits is worn down.”
“Aiden I’m being serious!” I answered, impatient with his jokes. “I’m going to find out what that place is. Aren’t you the least bit curious?” He put down his work his aqua eyes bored into mine.
“Erin, I don’t think you should keep fixating on this,” he said, all humor gone from his voice. “It’s probably nothing. Dissenters are lunatics, that guy you met probably didn’t know what he was talking about, or writing about, on that map.” Aiden reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “Whatever it is, looking into it can only be trouble. Besides,” he said then, his tone lighter, “If there was a giant base camp right next to the city where we’ve lived our whole lives, don’t you think you would have heard about it before now?”
“Yeah you might be right,” I responded evenly. Aiden made good points but still as the afternoon wore on and my medicine wore off the pain in my head competed with thoughts of the Seattle Rejects camp for my attention. Despite what Aiden had said and despite all my better instincts I just had to get to the bottom of this mystery. I had been so bored for so long that now that I had finally found something that actually engaged my mind I wasn’t about to give it up easily. I was going to find out this secret. How I wasn’t so sure.
Enormous red numbers glared down at me from the wall of the factory as I looked up from my work for the first time in hours. It’s 8:00 already? I thought, setting down the machine I had been working on and following Aiden as he stood and made to leave. I reached my left hand into my pocket and brushed my fingers against Mark’s note, quickly pulling it back out again, paranoid that someone would see and somehow know what it was I’d found myself caught up in. My head was pounding. I was due to take my meds but it would have to wait until I got to Michelle’s.
“You should have planned ahead better,” Aiden said as we pushed through the throng towards the doors. “You know finishing a repair you started yesterday is like splicing wire.” He grinned at his own joke, not expecting me to laugh.
We made it to the train just in time and he kept talking as the doors closed behind us.
“I had this total trick of a job earlier. Whole motherboard was shot. Some genius over in processing must have thought their cutter would work better if they kicked the shit out of it. Because that fixes everything.” I chuckled mechanically. The sun was just low enough at this time of day that it shone directly in through every window of the train so I was having trouble concentrating. “Hey Erin, are you okay? You’re not still fixated on that thing from earlier are you? I really think you should drop it.”
“Yeah I’m fine,” I answered casually. “It’s just my head, you know. The sun, need pills, the usual.”
“Oh right, good.” Aiden seemed to buy that I’d put the mystery out of my head. He looked over his shoulder then moved 20 centimeters to his right so his head was blocking the sun from my eyes, the orange sunlight making his spiky brown hair look like a gold crown. He smiled, satisfied when he saw my shoulders relax slightly.
“Hey want to come over to Michelle’s and play some cards with us?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Sure. Sounds like a plan.” That last word seemed to reverberate through my head. Plan, plan, plan, PLAN. I needed a plan.
I needed to come up with a plan. I was so lost in thought I hardly noticed when Michelle boarded the train.
I would need to get out of work. Maybe I could punch in sick I thought buy myself time to look…somewhere but then no, if I called in sick I’d be required to report to the medical center and the tracker on my wrist would tell the System I hadn’t.
“Hey you two, how was work?” Asked Michelle brightly.
“What?– Oh, fine, great,” I replied absentmindedly.
“What’s going on with her?” I vaguely heard her ask Aiden as my attention drifted back inward to tomorrow.
“Oh just off daydreaming as per usual” he responded. I looked over at Aiden, confused. Why did he feel the need to lie to Michelle? Was my end of the day brain fog making me miss something obvious? Maybe he would fill her in once we were in private.
Michelle and Aiden’s conversation continued on past me as I followed them onto the platform for Michelle’s and my building. The clock on the platform read 8:30pm. I felt, absurdly, like the glowing numerals were watching me and knew what I was plotting.
“…would leave so much more free time in the afternoon,” Aiden was saying to Michelle. “If only I had a buddy who was in charge of the shift assignments eh?” He said pointedly nudging her in the ribs with his elbow.
“You know I run the shifts for a different factory,” she responded humorlessly. “And even if I could move you to the earlier shift it would be unethical of me to give my friends preferential treatment.” Aiden and I both laughed at her response. We all knew he hadn’t been serious, but still she had taken the opportunity to remind us that she could quote the manual for her job word for word.
We walked into Michelle’s apartment and sat down at the small circular table. Her apartment was virtually an exact copy of mine. The only difference was that she took off her shoes when she came inside, so her carpet was cleaner. And, in the next room her bed was, no doubt, actually made. She crossed to the wall screen and pulled up the food menu, first informing the machine she had two guests for dinner. The screen prompted her to enter the Individual Identification Code for her guests to ensure she wasn’t just trying to get extra food. She entered both mine and Aiden’s with only a second’s hesitation. We had all memorized each other’s codes years ago since we ate together so often. I looked down at the 12 digit sequence engraved into the metal tracker on my wrist. That gave me an idea.
I struggled to put the thoughts in order. The combination of needing my meds and just having worked 12 hours, through a migraine, had my mind in less than working order.
“Erin, do you want a pillow?” Michelle asked kindly. “You look exhausted.” If I were someone else she might have been joking, but I knew she wasn’t. I nodded. She strode quickly into the bedroom and emerged with a pillow. I put it behind my head and leaned back against her wall, closing my eyes. I felt so in pain and devoid of energy that I was surprised I didn’t drop off to sleep. The next thing I knew someone was putting my pills in one of my hands and a glass of water in the other. I swallowed them on instinct and by the time our dinner was ready I was feeling more myself. The opiate might have knocked me out right there at Michelle’s table, but I, unlike most people, took caffeine at night too so I was alert enough.
“Looks like it’s broccoli, rice, and kidney beans tonight friends,” Michelle read off the screen as Aiden shuffled beat-up playing cards. “Such a nutritionally beneficial combination.” Michelle, always so diplomatic.
“That admin slang for bland?” Aiden shot. The two of us laughed. Michelle looked mildly offended. She took three plates and three glasses of water from the nook below her RCU then crossed the small room to sit with us. As she dealt the cards for what was probably our 2 millionth game of rummy, my mind wandered back to the jumble of thoughts I had been attempting to string into an idea before my migraine got in the way.
I looked across at Michelle’s RCU; really looked at it, for the first time. It wasn’t quite the same as mine. They both had the options for food, clothes, menu, videos, ~REPORT~; but unlike mine, at the very top corner, Michelle’s also had a button with a small lower case i on it and, I had to squint to see, tiny letters reading ‘info’ underneath. How had I never noticed that before. It must have something to do with her job. Then the idea really started to come together. I knew Michelle’s login number as well as she knew mine. Maybe with it I could bring up the same ‘info’ on my own RCU and find out something about the Seattle Rejects Camp.
“Rummy!” Exclaimed Aiden laying down three 8s triumphantly. “You two gotta get your heads in the game if you wanna win the next round. Especially you, Erin. You’ve been even more zoned out than usual.”
“Yeah, I guess I just didn’t sleep very well last night,” I answered.
“Why were you working overtime, by the way,” he asked. “Were you late to work?”
“Oh right, that. I missed the stop on the train. Went a few blocks too far.”
“You see anything interesting?” Michelle put in.
“Um– not really,” I lied. I didn’t want to have to listen to a lecture from her about how I should have reported Mark. She should know better than anyone why I’d never, under any circumstances press one of those godawful buttons. She had been there, she’d known my mother. I must have tried to explain it to her a hundred times, but she never understood. She didn’t press the issue, instead gathering the cards from the table, shuffling them and dealing a new hand. Just because I’d decided not to tell her about Mark, didn’t mean I wouldn’t tell her anything. I tried to pay more attention to the game while I thought over how to work my question naturally into the conversation.
My painkillers had fully kicked in by that point so I was feeling more confident in my social skills. I was lucky to have pills at night at all. There was a time when I didn’t. But eventually some algorithm somewhere in the System had concluded that going through migraine-linked opioid and caffeine withdrawal simultaneously every evening had a negative effect on my productivity the next day. Who would’ve thought.
“Michelle,” I asked part way through the next round when there was a lull in the conversation. “Have you ever heard of any settlements outside of Seattle?” Aiden shot me an almost panicked expression across the table. His eyes wide, he gave a tiny shake of his head, so small and fast I wondered if the drugs were hitting me harder than I thought and I was just imagining it. Michelle looked up from her cards.
“No,” she responded simply. “I don’t think so. Why would there be?” That’s what I want to know, I thought. I shrugged my shoulders. Aiden kept switching between watching the two of us and staring determinedly down at his cards, as if one of the two things was intensely important to him but he couldn’t decide which. “What brought this up Erin?” Michelle asked me casually, laying down a run of leaves as she did. I glanced over at Aiden to my left and I definitely wasn’t imagining it this time as he shook his head at me.
“Just curious,” I said. “I’m not sure exactly what made me wonder. Must’ve been something I heard in passing somewhere.”
“Brain fog again?” Aiden asked pointedly. Normally I didn’t like using my illness as an excuse when it wasn’t but I couldn’t come up with a better lie on the spot. My head stabbed with pain now that I was thinking about it.
“Yeah must’ve been.” If Michelle noticed Aiden’s and my strange behavior she gave no sign of it. I let the subject drop for now and the rest of the night continued like it usually did. “How was work, Michelle?”
“Well, you know, it’s not easy,” her perfect features were glowing with pride as she finished the last of her food. “But it sure is worth it. I’ve always said you’d be great at it, Erin.” I looked sideways at Aiden who snorted derisively. I rolled my eyes then winced, having glanced at the light. “Who knows,” Michelle continued, ignoring us, “someday soon you could take over my job.” She smiled coyly over her water glass at us. I was too preoccupied to ask what she was hinting at.
The food and the game were as adequate as ever and we said goodbye so Aiden could catch the 10:00 train to his apartment a few buildings down. My mind turned to that info button on Michelle’s RCU. Even though I was exhausted I couldn’t wait to get back to my apartment to try it. I tapped my bracelet against the notch in my door and it slid silently into the wall next to it, allowing me to pass. As the door slid shut behind me I drummed my fingers against my thighs in anticipation.
I crossed to the RCU and was suddenly very aware of the entire wall of windows opposite it. I turned my back to them, worried someone in a building across the street would see and report me. I took a deep breath to try and calm my nerves, then tapped the button marked “user”. Blinking back at me were my name and Identification Code. I clicked on the code and deleted my number, digit by digit, then typed in Michelle’s.
For an instant I thought it wouldn’t work. The screen went black for what felt like ages. For the first time in a while, for that moment, I managed to forget all about the pain in my head, my entire focus was on the screen in front of me. But then it shifted back to almost usual, except there, winking back at me from the top right corner was the little info button. I pressed it. A long list of categories popped up on the screen, options I’d never seen before. The one I wanted caught my eye almost immediately. About halfway down the entries was one called “Extra-Urban Projects”. I selected the option and another list popped up, shorter than the first. There were several names to choose from: Cascadia, Springs Camp, Sacramento Mineral Reserve, and, near the bottom, Seattle Rejects Camp. I held my breath as I tapped on the only one that mattered.
Now the name was at the top of the screen and below it were 3 paltry lines of information.
Location: 30 kilometers southeast of Seattle
Status: Under control
Further information restricted to core neighborhoods only.
It was a dead end.
As I lay in bed that night, eyes closed, waiting for the caffeine to wear off so I could sleep, I kept replaying the ‘info’ I’d seen earlier. It was incredibly frustrating to have gotten so close to solving the mystery only to be blocked by the unimportance of the neighborhood I’d been born into. Late at night was usually my favorite time of day. For once there were no lights or loud noises exacerbating my migraine. My tiny world felt still and peaceful. And in the near dark I couldn’t make out the stark emptiness of my apartment. I could imagine I was anywhere. But this night there was only one place my mind was willing to wander to, and I couldn’t imagine what it looked like.
Just then an absolutely insane thought occurred to me. I should just go to a different neighborhood and look there.
I almost dismissed the idea out of hand. The second I crossed the border I’d be flagged and arrested. Unless… Unless I remove my tracker I thought, and I felt like a dissident just thinking it. I’d never heard of anyone removing their tracking bracelet and getting away with it. That’s why they put them on the right wrist, to make it more difficult to get off. Then again I am left-handed; and a mechanic. I probably have all the tools I need at work. I couldn’t believe what I was planning.
Doubts ate at me all night until I finally fell asleep. What if I can’t get the bracelet off? What if I do get it off and it sets off an alarm and ROs swarm in and arrest me? And why am I doing this anyway? Because some shifty dissenter guy had some old map and I glimpsed something on it? Ridiculous! But the curious part of my mind insisted that it had to be something important for the System to restrict information about it.I refocused my thoughts in a more productive direction. Where to plant my tracker so the system wouldn’t register suspicious behavior. Assuming I could get it off at all. Maybe I could plant it on Aiden. We worked together so it would just look, to the System, like we were sticking unusually close together tomorrow. I could be gone and back before our shift was even done. Sneak out at lunch in the commotion.
But what if he notices? I’d have to make sure I put it somewhere he wouldn’t notice until I got back. But Aiden wasn’t a very suspicious person. He might just think it was a spare part he’d accidentally pocketed. But in order for that to work, I’d have to figure out how to remove the GPS component from the bracelet completely. The metal ring itself would be too recognizable; after all there was a nearly identical one on his own right wrist. This could work.
I continued to run through my plan for tomorrow as I stripped off my day clothes and put on the gray night ones in the nook in the wall. As I pulled down my pants I felt a lump in the left pocket. I had completely forgotten about the note Mark had given me. I couldn’t throw it down the laundry chute. I was afraid to even read what it said. But my curiosity got the better of me. I carefully unfolded it.
At the top in bold capital letters it read ALTERNATIVE MEETING. What, did they change location at the last minute? Below that were written instructions for how to get to somewhere in the Ruins. And at the bottom was a strange symbol. All in the same red ink and bold handwriting. It took a moment but I eventually recognized it as the same writing that was on Mark’s map. I hesitated, then slipped the paper under my pillow. I was very aware of the glowing red numbers on the clock above my bed. Above my bed. Which had a dissident’s note stashed in it. I changed into my night clothes and climbed into bed. For the first time in my memory I was really truly eager for it to be tomorrow.
I was already awake when my alarm when off at 7:13 the next morning. I sprang out of bed and rushed through my morning routine. The few rays of sunlight there were when I woke up passed behind the clouds as I was eating. After choking down a small protein bar, I carefully stowed Mark’s note in the pocket of today’s pants (black with gray stitching), I pulled on my turquoise shoes and socks. I wasn’t sure exactly why I still held onto the note. I told myself it was because I still had no safe place to dispose of it. I left my apartment and as I tapped my tracking bracelet against the door to close it behind me I thought with nervous anticipation that, if all went well, it might be gone later today. For probably the first time ever I was already waiting on the platform when Michelle danced up in her own bright blue shoes, red curls springing.
“Hey Erin,” she said brightly. “Crap weather today, isn’t it?” I looked up at the steely sky, something I was rarely able to do, and my migraine didn’t get any worse in response. In fact, with no bright light to exacerbate it and my meds starting to kick in, for once it was getting better.
“Oh I don’t know,” I responded. “I think it’s quite lovely.” My tone of voice was the lightest it ever got. Something about the clouds overhead made me feel safer, like it was harder for the System to see the illegal plans I was making. “Can’t you appreciate the most common weather pattern of our System-given city, Michelle?” I jibed, knowing she wouldn’t be caught dead insulting its choice of cities.
“Of course!” She acted offended but a moment later we were both laughing.
I went about the rest of my day, jittery with nerves, letting my hands perform routine repairs while my mind went over my plan again and again; until I looked up at the clock on the factory wall. 11:30am it read. Now was the time. It might take a while to crack the bracelet so I should start on it now. I got up from my workbench with the small stitch counter I had just fixed in hand. I put it down on the “FIXED” counter, and browsed through the adjacent counter labeled “BROKEN” for just the right machine. My eyes settled on a large weaver used for making the thin, standard-issue blankets I had slept under all my life. A big machine meant lots of parts; perfect.
I took it back to my workbench and disassembled it sufficiently so that the table in front of me was covered in parts. Now, on the off chance that one of the mechanics near me looked over, they wouldn’t see at a glance what I was up to.
I took a deep breath and picked up a polarized revol extractor with my dominant left hand. I considered the slim metal bracelet which had adorned my right wrist my whole life. For my safety they said. But now I could see it for what it was: a shackle. If I tried to leave my neighborhood wearing it I would be immediately identified and arrested. I supposed it hadn’t occurred to them to move the trackers of lefties like me to our other wrist once it became clear which was our dominant hand. It was a small oversight but it redoubled my determination, giving me confidence that the System was not infallible.
All at once I used the extractor to remove the small, almost seamless panel on the outside of it and then grabbed a small laser cutter and severed the bolt that locked it onto my wrist. The bracelet popped open with a small click along an invisible hinge. I removed it, careful not to damage the computerized components and placed it on the bench in front of me, self-consciously pulling down my right sleeve to hide its absence. My arm felt light and bare without the metal encasing it.
I wish Aiden was here I thought as I stared blankly at the mess of wiring and circuitry inside the bracelet. He would know exactly how to remove just the GPS without disrupting its signal. At that moment Aiden himself strolled up casually. He’d been helping another electrician with a complex repair all morning, but now he was back.
“Heyo, Erin, whatcha up to?” He slid into the bench across from me. I hastily tried to cover the detached tracker with spare parts but my sleeve slipped up in the process, exposing my bare wrist. Aiden put 2 and 2 together and his mouth dropped open. He leaned in across the table , lowering his voice to a frantic whisper. “Erin, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
“What does it look like,” I hissed back, relieved to have someone to confide in. “I’m going to take the train over to energy and solve myself a mystery.” Aiden’s mouth fell open and I could see him phrasing the beginnings of an argument in his head. I didn’t have time for that. “Listen, Aiden, there’s nothing you can say that will convince me not to go. Now are you going to help me or report me? I’m trying to remove the tracker component but I have no clue what I’m doing.” Aiden looked at me, dumbfounded and a little offended. But he still reached across the table and slid my tracker over to him. I knew he would help.
“What exactly are you planning?” He asked, a small laser cutter poised over the opening in the bracelet. I leaned in conspiratorially. I told him everything I’d done and learned the night before. “Erin I don’t think this is a good idea. You don’t know the can of worms you’re trying to open.”
“And you do?” I snapped back, not at all discouraged. He didn’t answer, just looked me in the eye.
“Is there really nothing I can say to talk you out of this? I don’t think you understand how stupid of an idea this is Erin.” I shook my head vigorously but regretted it a second later. I was due for my lunchtime medicine in just a few minutes and the pain shook back and forth with me. Aiden sighed. “In that case, keep a lookout while I finish this.” I leaned back and looked around, the flicking back and forth made my eyes sore but I did it anyway.
As Aiden carefully lifted the components out of the shell, I held my breath. But no alarm sounded; no light flashed; and I knew we’d done it. I had taken my first step and I hadn’t stumbled. I took the empty steel shell from Aiden, shining a pen light into it to be sure there was nothing left inside. I slid it back onto my wrist and closed it with a single bead from a portable welding gun. It would be easy to get cut through when I got back. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It read 12:25. People had already started getting up to get lunch. I turned my attention to the scattered components of the weaving machine, still unable to believe what I had just done. I had never heard of someone removing their tracker and yet the lightness of my wrist told me I just had.
“Go,” said Aiden, pocketing the electrical components of my tracker. “I’ll clean this up.” I got up and, feeling very conspicuous, crossed to the food nooks and ordered my pills and a sandwich. The shutters closed and, after a few seconds they opened and my order was sitting there. I tossed the pills back quickly and scarfed down the sandwich in a couple bites. Eating so quickly would make me nauseous but it would be very suspicious to carry a sandwich onto the train. I lost myself in the throng and slowly made my way towards the open door. No one seemed to notice or care.
In no time I was standing on the platform. There should be a train coming any minute to take high-clearance admins from our out-of-the-way corner east towards the heart of Seattle; first stop, Energy. I could still put my tracker back on and go back to how things were. But if I did this, there was no going back. I could see the train in the distance, swiftly approaching. What if I get Aiden in trouble? The train was 200 meters away. What if he’s found out? Will they know what I’ve done? The train was 100 meters away. Do this, I ordered myself. NOW! As the train slid up and the doors opened, I stepped inside.