The Colony Box Set

Chapter 5

Chapter 5Immediately inside the Monitor Center was a large lobby. The walls were white without anything to break up the monotonous color except the thin, barely-there strip four feet off the floor, similar to the one in my bedroom which the Monitor had used earlier to assess my health. The strip was present in all rooms throughout the Colony. It was used in conjunction with the screens to keep us safe, or so we were told. Rumor had it that, in times of warning or trouble, the strip would pulse with a red inner light, directing us to the nearest screen to await further instructions, but in my lifetime, that had never happened. We were safe, and there was no need to warn us about anything.

The Monitor beside Teacher Mendra led the way through a pair of glass doors, further into the facility. Here cubicles segmented the room, and we gathered around the closest one. Inside was a chair in front of a desk with a recessed keypad. On the cubicle wall in front of the desk were screens—I quickly counted a dozen, each with its own image of a room somewhere in the Colony. Coordinates scrolled along the bottom of the screen, indicating where each room was located.

“This is the heartbeat of the Colony,” the Monitor said, sounding like a page taken directly from the Code. He stood a head taller than the Teacher and looked down on all of us as if he’d rather be anywhere but leading our tour. “Monitors have a duty to maintain the integrity of the Colony at all times, through observation and assistance. How many of you have screens in your bedrooms at home?”

All of our hands shot up. I looked around and counted to make sure, but the question made me think of another, and before I could stop myself, I asked it. “You mean some rooms don’t have screens in them?”

With a chuckle, the Monitor winked at me. “Ah, no. It was a trick question, you see. Monitors view every inch of the Colony. It keeps us safe.”

Beside me, Kyer pointed into the empty cubicle at the small screens. “No one’s watching these rooms right this minute.”

A pained smile crossed the Monitor’s narrow face. “Everything’s being recorded in the Archives, though. The Monitor whose cubicle this is will review the footage when she returns.”

“Where is she?” Brin asked.

The Monitor took a step back, leading us away from the cubicle. “On break, most likely. Every four hour shift has a fifteen-minute break built in. There’s a lounge where Monitors lie down and rest their eyes—”

“They sleep at work?” Kyer asked, incredulous. “Now that’s the job for me.”

“They rest their eyes,” the Monitor explained, enunciating each word. From the exasperated look on his face, he was already regretting agreeing to show us around. “If you will follow me, we’ll take a look in the scheduling room and see how Monitors are assigned…”

Brin and Lyra pulled ahead, staying near the front of the group, but I fell back and, when he noticed, Kyer did, too. I lingered outside the empty cubicle, pretending to look at the screens, which showed empty offices for the most part. Were the screens in these rooms on at the moment? Why would they be running if no one was in the rooms?

I felt a hand on my arm and half-turned to find Kyer hovering over my shoulder. “I thought they weren’t watching us when the screens were black,” I murmured in a low voice.

“These must be on, then,” Kyer reasoned.

I wasn’t so sure. “Is your screen on when you’re not home?”

His brows pulled together as he gave me a strange look. “How would I know? I’m not there.”

If the screens recorded everything—even when we thought they were turned off—then someone did see me drop my pill last night. Why didn’t they turn on the screen and tell me where it was before I stepped on it? Or call me out when they saw I went to bed without taking it?

Kyer tugged at my sleeve. “Come on, we’re falling behind.”

I let him lead me after the others, but we kept back far enough to talk softly without being overheard. Leaning toward him, I lowered my voice and asked, “Do you always take all your pills?”

That strange look again. “Yeah, of course. Don’t you?”

I fell back another step, widening the gap between our class and us.

My silence made Kyer stop short. “Wait, you don’t?”

“I didn’t last night,” I admitted. Quickly I told him what had happened, leaving nothing out except the dreams and what I’d seen in my sleep. What I’d felt. With him.

When I was finished, I hurried after our class and Kyer fell in beside me. Speechless, for once. Up ahead, I saw Brin turn and look for me—I waved, then turned to Kyer so she’d know we were talking about something. Hopefully she wouldn’t come back and interrupt us.

I really wanted to know what he was thinking.

“Well?” I asked finally. “What do you think? Am I going to get in trouble at the Health Center?”

Kyer closed the distance between us until he was but a hair’s breadth away from me. His closeness set every nerve in my body on fire. “I think you’ll be fine,” he murmured, keeping one eye on the Monitor and our Teacher to make sure no one was watching us.

All I could do was stare up at him; I didn’t care who might have seen. “Really? Why?”

“Adults don’t have to take all their pills,” he told me.

This news was shattering. “What?” I cried.

He placed a hand on the small of my back to quiet me, and suddenly I felt as though I would burst into flames. “Listen, it’s true. Have you ever seen the pills when they come to your house?”

I shook my head. “My mother handles them.”

“Mine, too,” Kyer admitted. “But once she wasn’t there and I had to sign for them. I thought I’d help her out by putting them away—I know where she keeps them—so I opened the box and there were instructions inside for each person. Mine just said to take daily, not to miss a dose, yadda yadda, but my parents had different pills.”

“Everyone’s dose is a little different,” I pointed out.

“These were extra pills,” Kyer told me. The hand on my back nudged me forward and I shuffled after our class, absorbed in what he was saying. “The instructions said adults could elect not to take all the red pills. But when they don’t, they have to take different ones before and after.”

I looked up at him, confused. “Before and after what?”

Kyer’s mouth formed one word. “Sex.”

“No way.” I stopped in my tracks. Babies came from the Birthing Center. Why would adults be allowed to have s*x?

Before I could ask, I heard the Teacher call out up ahead, “I’m sorry, boys, are we interrupting you?”

I glanced up and saw everyone in our class watching us. Brin caught my eye and made an unmistakable motion with her arm. Get up here before you get us all into trouble, it said.

Automatically, Kyer and I broke apart. I wove through my class to Brin’s side, and let her take my hand in both of hers as if to keep me in place. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

“You need to pay attention.” The Teacher pierced me with a stern gaze, then looked around at the others in our class. “This may be where you’re best suited to work. You only have two more years before you join the adult community within the Colony, and then you’ll be expected to shoulder your share of the workforce. Two years, class. It will be gone before you know it.”

Two years. Then Brin and I would wed. We’d set up a home of our own, go to work instead of class, and maybe even petition for a child or two.

And have s*x.

I knew the red pill inhibited desire and l**t, but I didn’t realize it might be optional. What were the other pills for, then? The ones adults took instead of the red pill?

* * * *

I didn’t get another chance to talk with Kyer alone. Brin stayed by my side throughout the morning, and at lunch the four of us sat together in the facility cafeteria, so I couldn’t ask Kyer for more information on the instructions he’d seen. Already my mind was playing out scenarios in which I would be home to receive the next batch of pills; I could open the boxes and read the instructions for myself. But my mother always seemed to be the one to sign for them. I didn’t even know when they arrived exactly, just that they came every thirty days without fail. I’d never seen anyone deliver them, but my supply never depleted. Maybe I could ask someone?

But who? And how, without rousing suspicions?

Brin nudged my leg with hers beneath the cafeteria table. “Are you still worrying about your check-up this afternoon?”

Kyer glanced at her, then at me. I shook my head slightly, hoping he’d get the message. I hadn’t told Brin I missed the blue pill.

“It’ll be fine,” Lyra assured us. “They run some scans and maybe increase your dosage, and that’s about it. What you should be worried about is missing rec time later.”

“I’ll be done by then.” At least, I hoped so. What if they found out I hadn’t taken my pill? Would they keep me in the Health Center instead?

Later, while we were carrying our lunch trays to the trash bin, Kyer stepped in front of me and stopped, putting some space between us and our Others. Over his shoulder, he asked, “She doesn’t know?”

“I only told you,” I admitted.

Kyer turned, a look of studious confusion on his features. “Why me? She’s your Other.”

In the Colony, Others were our soul-mates, the literal other half of our being. No one kept secrets from their Others, as far as I knew. Why would I tell Kyer something I didn’t share with Brin?

Because I dreamed of him and not her, my mind whispered.

Could the Colony be wrong? Could Kyer be my true Other, and not Brin?

No—he was male, I was male; two men couldn’t couple. It was in the Code. Others were opposites who, when fused together, formed one Whole being. Two people of the same gender couldn’t belong to each other. They simply couldn’t.

Kyer stared at me, waiting for an answer I didn’t want to give. I shrugged and tried to step around him, but he moved to block my path. “Why did you tell me, Aine?”

Softly, so softly no one else passing would overhear, I admitted, “I had a dream.”

He jerked back in surprise, eyes wide, mouth open. “Last night?” he whispered. When I nodded, he asked, “About…about me?”

I nodded again. Before he could question me further, I hurried around him to the trash bin, where the girls waited.

This time, he was too shocked to stop me.