H M Hoover Read online

  “What does that mean?” Axel was so breathless his question was almost a whisper. Amy pushed her earguards up to hear. Too tired to repeat himself, the boy pointed at the sign. She glanced at it but didn’t answer. Instead she reached over and pushed up Axel’s earguards.

  '‘Listen!” she said in an awed whisper.

  There was no noise, only a faint, hollow roar. There were no people. Instinctively moving closer together, the two stared at each other, seeking an explanation both lacked. In the silence, dread crept into Amy’s empty stomach and ballooned up to crowd her heart until she could hear its frightened thumping in her ears. And the worst thing was, she didn’t know why she was frightened.

  They must have stood like that for five minutes, getting back their wind and resting, but above all, listening. No one came down the hall; no one came up the ramp. Finally Amy could bear it no longer; she tiptoed around the curve to see what was on this level. Some fifty feet ahead, the hallway widened out and ended in a wall enclosed behind a gate of heavy bars. There were two other signs down there. She couldn’t read them from here.

  “Ahhh. No wonder it's empty—it's a dead end," said Amy. It was more a whisper than a cry of disappointment, but Axel dropped as if his legs had turned to jelly. She grabbed his arm, but he slid away in a curled heap.

  “Get up!” Amy whispered, thinking he was shutting out. “Get up! You can't do this! Not now!”

  His eyes closed, and he did not answer. He looked so awful that in spite of her anger she knelt beside him. Her leg muscles trembled so her sandal heels clacxed on the pavement. She sat down, took off her sandals, and put them close by her hand in case she had to grab them and run. “Axel? Are you sick? . . . Maybe you need food?”

  He didn't respond. She bit her lip and then chewed on it thoughtfully. Maybe he wasn’t . . . she reached over and put her hand against his stomach. His heart was beating as hard and fast as her own. She called his name again and then just sat there waiting for him to move. When he hadn’t stirred in five minutes, she decided he was just worn out. It would be hard to live the way he did. She pushed herself back against the wall, stretched her legs, and looked around.

  She had never seen such a deserted area. There weren't even crazies here—or roaches. But then there wasn’t much for them to eat up here either, she decided. There were a couple of rat holes in the cement. Rats could chew through anything.

  She became aware of pain and on investigation found she had ugly blisters on the soles of both her feet. The top of her feet were rubbed raw wherever a strap touched. It didn’t pay to wash sandals, she decided; dirt made them softer.

  “I’m going to eat,” she announced in a whisper. “You want some?” When Axel didn’t respond to that enticement, she crawled over and felt his heart again. He was breathing almost normally; his pulse had slowed and his color was better. She adjusted his earguards so they wouldn’t dig into him and then returned to the wall.

  She had nearly finished a whole mush cake when her head lopped to one side and she fell asleep with the remains of her food in her hand.

  She had a bad dream in which she heard a man’s footsteps coming from a distance—slow, tired footsteps that stopped beside her bunk. She knew the man was watching her, and she tried to run but her legs wouldn’t move.

  The rats wakened her. She felt them first, then opened her eyes groggily and saw a rat sitting on her thigh, feeding from the mush in her hand as a pet would feed, totally at ease. Something tickled her stomach; a rat had crawled halfway into her pocket and was trying to back out, carrying a mush cake in its jaws. A third was standing up against her leg, bright-eyed, whiskers twitching, looking as if it intended to help the one in her pocket.

  They felt her muscles tense as she wakened; at her slightest move the last crumb was snatched from her hand. Panicking feet dug into her belly. The trio fled, claws scratching on the cement, naked tails half raised. One raced across Axel and succeeded where Amy had failed in trying to rouse him. No sooner had the three-pound creature bounced on and off his chest than Axel jumped to his feet from deep sleep, arms flailing so wildly that he staggered into the wall.

  "It’s just rats,” Amy said, grateful that he didn’t scream.

  “Disgusting! Disgusting! Dis—” He stopped mid-word and stared, remembering where he was, then shook himself and slapped his clothes as if to drive away all vermin.

  “You want some?” Amy calmly held out the piece of mush cake the fleeing rat had dropped. Axel hesitated, shivered all over, and then took the food, ignorant of its violation.

  '‘How much of this stuff did you bring?” he asked. He was

  shaking and trying hard to pretend he wasn't.

  “Five pieces. We've got three left.” She wiped her hands on her pants.

  “Smart,” he managed to say, still struggling with his nerves as he sat down again.

  “Not too—or I wouldn't have gone to sleep with food on me.” She sat there thinking about the rats. She had never seen a live rat at such close range, only as furtive streaks along walls. Rats were kind of pretty if you looked closely; they had soft fur and they were smart—there was no place a rat couldn't go if it wanted to. She was as smart as a rat. . . smarter, even.

  “You want to go on up the ramp?” Axel asked when he was finished with his food and seemed to have regained hope.

  “Sure. We came this far. . . but I don't think there's anything up there,” Amy said slowly. “Nobody's been here since we came . . . not even footsteps.” She looked at all the space around them. “If this place is empty, I wonder why the crazies don't know about it and sleep here. Crazies sleep in any empty space.”

  “Maybe they're afraid to . . . not that it's scary . . . but maybe ...”

  “Yeah.” Amy knew what he meant. She slowly got to her feet. The pain from the blisters was so bad she nearly cried. The idea of stepping barefoot on the traction bars in the ramp was more than she wanted to face at the moment. “I'm going to see what those signs say down there,” she said and set off, walking gingerly, wincing at each step. She looked back to see Axel limp a few steps, then kick off his sandals and carry them, as she carried hers.

  The big faded sign behind the security gate read: EMERGENCY GATE—Freight Traffic Only—DANGER” in large letters, and below in smaller print, “max. cap. 10,000 lb.” There was no picture to explain.

  As they stood there puzzling over this cryptic the floor began to quake and the lights flickered. At first Amy thought nothing of it except to be surprised the hour was so late. Then from behind the walls came a great groaning noise as if the city were in pain deep down inside. A strange warm little wind blew across their feet and ankles, strong enough to ruffle their pants legs. The nicest scent Amy had ever smelled filled the air.

  “Oranges!” cried Axel. “Ifs oranges!”

  “Sh! What’s oranges?”

  “That smell—I never saw an orange in here—” He dropped to the floor on his stomach, his face pressed against the gate bars. For a minute Amy thought he was shutting out again. She didn’t blame him. For all the pretty smell, that sound was getting louder and closer and the floor was quaking more and more. She wanted to run and hide. Then came a streak of light, like a crack along the floor behind the security gate, and the sound seemed to go up into levels above them and then abruptly stopped.

  Axel rolled over onto his back, his face aglow. “Its a freight bin! They go up inside shafts! There’s an elevator system!”

  She shook her head and turned away. He was a little psycho. Might as well read the sign on the side wall before they went back to the ramp. From up close it was apparent the sign was on a door, a hatch-like affair that fitted snugly into the wall with only a hairline crack to define its outline.

  The sign read:

  Important Notice to Service Personnel

  In Compliance with City Health Codes, All Personnel

  Utilizing Sublevel Emergency Entrance Must, Repeat

  Must Immediately Upon Leaving Cont
aminated Area:

  1. Remove and Place All Garments in Discard Bin.

  2. Enter Decontamination Chamber.

  3. Proceed to Medix Unit.

  4. Submit to Prescribed Sanitizing and/or Medicare.

  5. Don Sterile Garments.

  Lock Release Mechanism Activated by Pressure Sensitive.

  Switches, First Letter, Each Line. Press In Reverse Sequence Only. Access Time Ten Seconds Only. NOTE:

  In Time of Riot Alert, This Door Will Not Open.

  Amy read the sign six times before she understood even part of what it said. “If you couldn't read," she remarked in all innocence, “you couldn't open this door if you had to."

  “Maybe that's the idea." Axel's voice was hushed with thinking. “Maybe this level doesn't want people entering who can't read ..."

  “That's everybody," said Amy. “That doesn't make sense."

  “But not us."

  “But we're not supposed to be able to read, and the authorities can't read—" Amy stopped, remembering the first sign, “No Unauthorized Personnel ..." Who was that sign intended to inform? She turned and looked at Axel and thought she saw her own confusion reflected on his face. None of this hall made any sense.

  “Let's open the door," coaxed Axel. “It might lead to the elevator."

  “Do you think the door would work? What if alarms go off?"

  “What if they don't?"

  “We could go on up the ramp to eighty and see what's up there, then come back ..."

  “If it opens, maybe we can find a way into the freight system and ride out.” Axel stuck out a foot. “I don’t think I can climb ten more ramps. Can you? Be honest.”

  “If we went very slow ...”

  “Let’s open the door.”

  “If we’re caught, they’ll put us in Rehab and we’ll never get outside.’’ Amy was not ready to give up her dream. “When the authorities were done with us, we might not even remember we wanted to go.”

  “Sh!” The boy touched her arm and pointed back down the hall. “Voices,” he whispered, and both strained to hear.

  Without further warning, a yellow-and-black-striped guard car rounded the curve and headed straight for them. Two guards were on the bench seat. Seated atop the cage behind them was a shabby man with matted hair. Amy knew him; he was the crazy from her passageway. Without really thinking she touched the first letter of each line, bottom to top, and almost idly wondered if a person could die of fear. The door cracked open.

  The trio from the patrol car reached the door in time to hear its locks click shut. The guards pounded on the door and tried to force it open, without success. The crazy stood and watched.

  “You should have taken them yourself,” one guard yelled angrily at the man with matted hair. “They’re small enough—you could have nabbed ’em. You got a sleeper. You didn’t need to come back for us.”

  “They’re little,” the man said. “The drug might kill them/’

  “Not much lost if it did,” the guard said sullenly. “They’ll die now anyway.”

  “You never used to lose them, Tracker,” the female guard remarked as they returned to the car. “You not only don’t get paid, but. . . we’ll have to report you. This is the fifth time in two years you failed us. And this time they were children. Getting old?”

  When the man didn’t answer, she looked at him. He was staring into space, his sunken eyes quite empty and very sad.

  “Yeah,” he said finally. “Old. Old ... the city’s old . . .”

  When the car pulled away he turned and stared back at that closed door until the curve of the ramp blocked it from view.

  8

  Their escape door had no sooner closed behind them than a pink light flashed on. The light was so bright and hot that in their fright they were more terrified and flattened themselves back against the wall. From without came the boom of the guards pounding on the door. The wall vibrated with the blows.

  “They’ll get in!”

  “They won’t!” Amy spoke with far more confidence than she felt. The last thing she needed now was for Axel to shut out. “If they could read they wouldn’t be pounding, would they?”

  “What is this place?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He risked a glance at her and then squeezed his eyes shut against the painful glare. “Do you think the light will burn us to death?”

  “How should I know?”

  “Want to go out in the hall again?”

  “No!”

  “O.K.”

  There was a crisp little click, the pink light went off, and normal lighting came on. “Vermin eradication complete. Please disrobe. Discard all garments and footwear. Proceed to sanit. Thank you.” The voice came from a tiny speaker above them.

  Blinking to clear the pink spots from her eyes, Amy could see no one but Axel. She looked for a camera and couldn’t find one. Nor were there grilles or grates to conceal such a unit.

  “They quit pounding,” Axel announced. He was standing with his ear pressed against the door. When she didn’t answer, he looked up. “What are you hunting?”

  “A watcher—I can’t find any.”

  “Really?” He almost smiled with relief. “Let me look.’ They were in a smooth white chamber. Straight ahead was a door labeled “Decontamination.” To the right were sanit modules. The left wall jutted out to form a bench. Behind the bench was a panel marked “Deposit Garments Here.” Track lights were mounted in the ceiling. Their search revealed no camera.

  “Probably a recording turns on when the hall door opens,” Amy decided as she stepped down from the bench they’d used to investigate. “People who are used to coming in here wouldn’t be scared by it.”

  Axel was pointing at the bench. Their footprints were clearly visible in the dust. “People don’t come here often.” “They must have an easier way to get into this level,” Amy said as she tried to open the door to one of the sanits. When she touched the latch panel, a bell chimed softly and the recording recited itself again and shut off.

  “Vermin eradication complete. Please disrobe. Discard all garments and footwear. Proceed to sanit. Thank you.” “That says we have to undress!” Axel was indignant. “Do we have to?”

  Amy had spent her whole life obeying seemingly omnipotent, disembodied voices issuing from speakers. She had learned their instructions had to be obeyed to the last detail. It did not pay to disobey. She went over and tried to open the decontamination door. Again, as soon as she touched the door, the recording clicked on. “Vermin eradication com—”

  “We have to.” She spoke over the voice. “It’s computer controlled. If we don’t follow its steps, it will never let us out of here.” She saw Axel slump onto the bench and fold his arms across his chest.

  “I’m not going out of here naked. I’m not—”

  “O.K. Stay here. Wait for them to get in.” She pointed toward the hall door. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but I’m going to do it.”

  “It’s not fair! I hate this place!” He took off his sandals and threw them at the disposal panel. As they cracked against its surface, the panel opened and the sandals disappeared.

  “Getting mad won’t help.” Amy used her sleeve to wipe the dust from a place on the bench, took the mush cakes from her pockets and put them on the clean spot. She added her earguards, ID card, comb, and toothbrush. Her sandals went into the disposal first, then her shirts, followed by both pairs of pants. “Just do it and don’t think about it,” she told him as she limped naked to a sanit.

  “What if we get out on the other side and they’re waiting for us there?” Axel was beginning to rock as he sat on the bench. “We’ll be naked. It’s humiliating!”

  She halted; she had no answer to that. If she let herself

  think about it too long she would be tempted to emulate Axel, wrap her arms around herself, and rock. “What if they’re not?” she said, and went into the module.

  When she came out, Axel stared at her,
then reluctantly began to undress. “If you can do it, I can,” he said.

  Behind the decontamination door was a shower chamber. “Place your feet on the white marks, please,” the computer instructed. “Grip the hand bars firmly. Keep your eyes closed. Procedure time—three minutes. Thank you.”

  “What do I do with the stuff I’m holding?” Amy asked, but the computer only repeated its order. Not knowing what else to do, she put everything in a pile on the floor and assumed the requested stance. Immediately fine jets began to spray against her. It was tepid, sweet-smelling liquid that felt like foam on her face and body. It was very pleasant—until the open blisters on her feet began to burn. Tears of pain mingled with the medicated water running down her face.

  When the shower ended and the door into medix opened, she found all her possessions gone, apparently flushed down the shower drain. She had never been without an ID; for the first time she felt truly naked, exposed, as she went out the door.

  The medix room was familiar. She stretched out on the wheeled recliner and watched the myriad pieces of equipment swing into position. A needle painlessly punctured her left arm and withdrew a blood sample. Seconds later, another needle entered with a nutrient tube attached. A roller-like instrument was working on her sore feet.

  The medical computer analyzed this body, determined it suffered from severe stress, and treated it accordingly. Amy never knew when the relaxant was given and she went to sleep.

  She woke expecting to be in her own bunk and saw instead yellow walls painted with a strange design and a door marked “Exit." She was in a room big enough to hold six recliners, but there were only two, her own and the one next to her where Axel slept. A soft white-and-gray-striped blanket covered her and she felt warm and comfortable. She yawned and shut her eyes, still too dopey to think much. Then, slowly, memory and fear returned and she sat up.