The year Old Faye turned seventy, her Other told her about the black pill. She had been horrified, but he had seen their upcoming trip to the nonexistent “Elder Center” as a reward, almost, for all his years of service to the Colony.
She thought he’d gone crazy.
Before that final trip around the monorail track, she began looking for an alternative. She petitioned the Overseer—twenty years prior to our escape, the man in charge of the Colony had been the same as the one who tried to deter me from leaving, and I could only imagine how little help Zan had been to Old Faye when she came to him asking for a reprieve. She mentioned her knowledge of the monorail, her innovations that had helped the trains run smoother and faster, even her extensive memory of the ins and outs of the abandoned su
