CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT

1

The day dragged on. Sarah had cut off so much Jade that the mere sight of the stems began to make her feel physically ill. The only saving grace was getting to talk with other kids her age – and she enjoyed that – but she also wanted to get out of here. This was a foul, rotten place, and if the police were to find out about it, everyone would be saved. Mr Steel would be locked up and she’d get to go home again and watch Ronnie Conway on Channel 9, eat tortilla chips and enjoy her Christmas break like a normal kid should.

The thought made her stomach grumble and her eyes water. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday evening (and that was just a noodle cup) so most of her time in the dark room was spent looking at the clock and praying that it would speed up. She wanted food. She didn’t care if it would be terrible. Anything would do.

Eventually the clock snapped to two in the afternoon, and a great, smiling relief comforted her. The clock buzzed three times, causing the walls to vibrate, and then Andy, who had just finished up cutting all his Jade and stashing it in the strongboxes – with many nicks and scratches to prove it – stretched and said:

“Best part of the day.”

“Is it break?” asked Sarah, already knowing it had been.

“Yup,” said Pip. “But only for an hour, after that it’s back to doing more stuff.”

“Even less than that,” said Valerie. “Teslaface takes his sweet-ass time.”

“Is it nice?” asked Sarah.

Valerie cocked an eyebrow. “The cafeteria?”

“That’s one word for it,” said Andy.

“It’s sort of like – ” Pip said.

Then, at the same time, he and Valerie said: “– an orphanage.”

Sarah had difficulty imagining such a place. “Are those nice?”

“Are you not an orphan?” asked Pip, scratching his buzzcut.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. My dad’s gone and my mom’s dead but I still have my sister.”

“How old is she?” asked Valerie.

“Twenty-two, I think.”

“You think?” said Pip.

“She’s twenty-two,” said Andy with a short chuckle. “That’s her way of saying things. She’s like never sure but at the same time one-hundred-per-cent certain.”

“Oh,” he said. “Well, the food's terrible.”

“Unless you like seat smoosh,” Valerie added.

The three laughed, but Sarah didn’t understand what was so funny. Before she could ask – and her lips had taken on the O-shaped what – a knock – a slam – came from the door. Keys jingling, then a click. It opened.

“Out! Now!” the man on the other side yelled, his gun cocked in his elbow. Teslaface.

Finally.

“Finally,” groaned Pip.

“Get moving!” His eyes were wide and bloodshot, as if he’d been tossing and turning all night, but that couldn't have been the case. Earlier he had been just fine.

One by one the kids began exiting the room, but Sarah must have looked at Teslaface wrong, because before she could walk past him he gripped the buttstock on his rifle and said:

“Got a starin’ problem?”

He smelt like alcohol, the strong kind that came from square bottles.

“No,” she said, unconcerned.

“Keep your eyes forward,” he said.

“Why?”

Now his eyes were really wide. He spread his rifle across both hands, squeezing tightly. “Because I fucking told you to!”

“You’re not my dad,” said Sarah bravely. “He left a long time ago.”

Laughter from the group; subtle, but laughter nonetheless.

He gave a laugh of his own but that was mostly frustration. “You know I had a talk with Mr Steel about you.”

She was interested now. “Oh? What about?”

She could sense the grin under his mask.

(If he even has teeth, she thought humorously.)

“He never said we have to keep you alive,” Teslaface said blackly. “What’s important is that your sister thinks we have you. Whether you’re here to prove it or not doesn't matter.”

She was taken aback, and a whirlwind of anxiety began sucking the air out of her. “That can’t be right,” she said, doing her best to sound composed. “Mr Steel said so. Besides, my sister is very good at spotting lies.”

“Is she?”

She nodded. “Damn straight.”

“Do you love your sister?” he asked, as if the question were more oppressive – more incriminating – than it actually was.

“Mhm,” she said.

“You wanna see her again?”

Confusion. “Huh?”

“Would you like to see her again?” he said, placing aggressive emphasis on each word.

Sarah wasted no time in giving her answer. “Yes please!” But she didn't understand where he was going with this. Did they already have Luna? Was she alive? Sarah began to worry.

He chuckled again, this time deeply. He bent down until eye-level with her, so close that Sarah could smell his hot, ethyl-dampened breath seep through the mask. “Then watch your mouth or you’ll be dead before her,” he said eerily. “It’s your choice, you can be a smartass and get yourself killed, or you can do what we say and see your sister again.”

Sarah considered the threat. “Are you lying?”

“I wouldn't do anything of the sort,” he said flatly.

“Do you promise?” she asked, as though this entire thing had been a negotiation, one where she had control.

“Oh yeaaaah!” said Teslaface, backing up and loosening his grip on the gun. “You have my word.”

Something didn't sit right with her. Regardless of whether or not he was telling the truth, she figured she would have to listen to him anyway. Propose he was telling the truth: then Mr Steel might not actually need her alive after all, and if she continued to be a smartass then she would be killed, but she didn't know what being a smartass meant exactly. Was it her jokes? Was it speaking in general? Suddenly she felt the task might have been more difficult than he let out.

Regardless, Sarah forced a smile. “Well... thanks Teslaface.”

His eyes sharpened. “The fuck did you just say?”

There was a beating moment in her brain, like hot blood swirling at the temples, that told her she’d made a huge mistake. The word had slipped out – It was an accident!

“Oh shit,” whispered Pip.

Teslaface snatched her by the hair and threw her across the floor.

Sarah let out a helpless shriek, like a dog after someone steps on its tail.

Teslaface marched over to her and kicked her in the chest.

“OW OW OWWWW!” she cried.

“The rest of you get to the fuckin’ cafeteria!” said Teslaface, drawing the gunstraps around his shoulders. “Now!”

“But what about – ” began Pip.

“Now! And if you even think of trying to take off I’ll beat you all into the fuckin’ ground!”

Silence, and then the sound of their footsteps lumbering down the hallway.

Sarah sobbed.

Teslaface removed his bootheel from her chest. “Sidup!”

Snot snorted from her nose and tears ran down her cheeks. She pushed herself off the carpet, drawing her knees under her chin. “I’m sorry!”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a jackknife. He flicked the blade up with a quick, jittery movement. “What did I tell you?” He got down on one knee and pressed the blade against her cheek. The edge was ice-cold.

“To… to…” she squeaked.

“To keep your mouth shut!”

But he hadn’t said that. Sarah had a good memory when it came to things people said. Still, it would be in her best interest to pretend he did.

“... Yes sir…” she said.

“You’re different,” he said dully. “You talk like we’re all your friends, don't you?”

She shrugged.

“I could cut your throat right now,” Teslaface grumbled, and then he slid the blade down along her neck. Any closer, any harder, and it would have pierced her skin, sliced the carotid arteries, and…

Mr Deckard says the neck’s main arteries are called –

“I could end you,” Teslaface said.

– carotid arteries. They’re what keep the head energised! And –

“I’m not nice like the others either,” he added. “Killing you would cost us nothing. We’d even get to sell your organs and make a crap-ton of money. Would you prefer that, Sarah? Go out the gory way?”

– the aorta is the biggest artery in our bodies! It pumps –

The tip of the blade pricked her skin.

“ANSWER ME YOU FUCKING CUNT!”

“No!” she croaked, taking deep breaths.

Teslaface eased the pressure. “Good, so we have an understanding. Tell me what happens when you don’t do what I say?”

“You… you…” But she couldn’t find the courage to finish the sentence.

“Say it,” he added in a dark tone.

“You’ll kih… kill me!” she said, and snot bubbled from her nose.

“So you do understand,” he said.

“Yes sir!”

“Good. Because you’re not special, you’re worth less than the dust on my fucking boot. Get that through your thick, autistic skull!”

“Yes sir!” she repeated.

He shoved her away.

She massaged the area the knife had prodded and found a pinprick of blood. It terrified her. It wasn’t often that she bled. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time she –

“Get to the cafeteria!” Teslaface shouted. “Move it!”

She hurried to her feet and squirrelled out the door, chafing her tears away with her jumpsuit sleeve. After Teslaface came out and locked the door, he dragged her by the arm through the tunnels. Down a dark passage of more windowed enclosures, each housing two tables and baskets of Jade.

It took all of two minutes for Sarah to hear friendly voices – a petulant din she’d often hear in the breakyard at her minischool specialised for special kids – but she had still been crying. The feeling was similar to whenever Luna or Mom chastised her, yelled at her till her ears started ringing, normally over something stupid like using a swear word or telling what they would call bulldust. Lying, because that had been a bad habit of hers for years. The only difference was, in those particular cases, tears would never come. She was a tough child to crack.

This was different. She actually felt afraid. She felt that trembling emotion that tied her lungs together and made sweat oil her skin with every monotonous pulsebeat, every gasp, every Am I gonna die?

It was the emotion spiders gave. Fear. True, unrivalled terror.

They turned another corner and Sarah saw two robot zombies standing outside a pentagon-shaped door. The voices grew louder, and when the doors slid open, she saw where they were coming from. Children were sitting and eating and chatting as if it was just another day at school. The benches were long, white, and bolted to the ground. There had been a robot zombie on both sides, one in front of the food bar, the other in front of the enormous fish tank, each armed with a rifle.

The place was dark. The walls were full of wires, ducting hoses, and all sorts of mechanical whatnots, each connecting to an enormous piston. The titanium exhaust latched to its rear chuffed out a wisp of black smoke which raftered up an intake vent, but not before leaving behind a strong, ozone tang. On the far end of the cafeteria was a metal, cogwheel-shaped airlock with 01 etched at the centre of it.

Teslaface shoved her inside and trotted down the hall again. The doors closed.

Sarah needed a moment to compose herself. She wiped fresh tears and cleared clods of fading snot. Was this it? The cafeteria?

“Sarah!” a voice called through the din.

She sent a look across the crowd. Pip had been sitting at one of the tables on the far side, waving a half-unwrapped chocolate bar in the air. You would think, she mused, that in a roomful of children he would have not noticed her coming in, but then she remembered her hair – that shade of white that her sister often compared to the underbelly of a salmon – stuck out like a sore thumb. After all, what kid dyed their hair such a mature colour?

For Sarah, it was to honour her mother. Nothing more, nothing less.

She began plodding over to Pip. She was worried that she might bump into someone. Luckily, she didn’t, but people gave her odd looks – sneering faces and Who is this? eyes.

When she got there, she saw that Andy and Valerie were sitting across from Pip. Andy was eating apple slices from a small plastic bowl. He didn’t look up at her.

“You okay?” said Pip.

She sat on the bench next to Andy. “I’m fine,” she said softly.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” said Andy.

Sarah placed her head on her crossed arms and grumbled, “This sucks.”

“What did he do?” said Valerie. She was eating apple slices too and drinking a bottle of water.

“Nothing,” Sarah replied.

“Your neck’s bleeding,” said Andy nonchalantly, and he looked at her and pointed to his Adam's apple. “Right there.”

She sat up from the table, confused as to how he saw it, and ran her finger over her throat until the blood cleared. She felt slightly embarrassed, for whatever reason. Maybe it was because she looked like a crybaby, maybe it was because she didn’t like people seeing her blood – as peculiar as that may have been – or maybe she just felt totally and utterly vulnerable. It took Sarah a moment to realise that it had been all three.

“I’m getting out of here,” said Sarah suddenly.

“Okay.” Andy took a sip from his water.

“Not now,” she corrected.

He looked at her with a rather foolish poker face. “I understood you.”

She furrowed her brow. “Then why are you so calm?”

“People have tried before,” said Pip, and Andy nodded.

“Tried and failed,” Andy added.

“How?” Sarah said, her curiosity coming back to her in a steady wave.

“A kid named Billy Wilson,” Pip said, and then he went off on a big story that lasted about a minute. He told her that two years ago Billy was the fourth member of their group, and was Andy’s old roommate – although cellmate would have been a more accurate way of putting it, thought Sarah. During his first year in the underground he was sort of erratic – a kid who couldn’t keep still and often liked to bite his nails, was wholly obsessed with guns. He could even name every ammo type and what weapons they were used for, and the group had seen that as absolutely insane – although Sarah couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult.

Andy told her that Billy got sick of doing the same work every day. Told her that, even with the seasonal changes to the products where they would do different things, he couldn’t stand it any longer. One day he concocted a plan to make it to the elevator. Billy had told the group that he was going to wait for a particular day, one day where the guards were busy dealing with someone else, so he could sneak out through the tunnels and make it to the elevator without anyone spotting him. And he did. Almost.

But he was spotted. Of course he was. There were just too many guards in that area, said Andy, and they murdered him in cold blood. Gone.

When he finished the story, Sarah was struck with the nightmarish image of a young boy chopped up, portioned into plastic bags, and sold on the black market, like Teslaface said. She suddenly felt very ill.

“You alright?” said Andy.

“I hate death,” said Sarah, pale-faced. “I’m terrified of dying.”

“Why?” Andy said. “Do you believe in heaven?”

“No,” she said.

“Why not?”

“My sister says God is just a scam to control people.”

Andy bobbed his head, puckering his lips thoughtfully. “I see. I guess my orphanage was religious, so I never thought about it. Still, you can believe what you wanna believe. I doubt your sister cares.”

Sarah sighed, now feeling sad at the image of her sister – of her possibly being killed. The idea hadn’t fully registered with her until now; it was suppressed by the trauma of the night before. Luna might have already died out there, and she might never know. Mr Steel already told her that he didn't have to let her go.

There she was with those terrible thoughts again. She had to control them somehow. She started humming Slack Off Smoke.

“You should eat and drink something,” said Valerie optimistically. “You’ll want to keep your strength up for the boxes!”

She dispensed another sigh, realising that she was right.

Andy pointed to the food bar. “Just head up there.”

Reluctantly, Sarah trudged up and got in line, staring at the options available to her: apple slices, chocolate bars, water bottles, and juice boxes. Pinned to a noticeboard was a sheet of foolscap paper which read 1 FOOD! 1 DRINK! NO EXCEPTIONS!

When it was her turn, she asked the scary-looking man behind the counter for a juice box and a chocolate bar, then went back to sit and chat with Andy and Pip and Valerie.

Once break ended, the same bell which woke her that morning whirred across the walls, deeply like a gong from space, and the robot zombies came storming in with their weapons cocked and their eyes full of hate.

Teslaface brought them through the tunnels, past the same locations as before, and to the Package Area. He told them to grab as many strongboxes of hash as they could. Then they carried them out.

Teslaface brought up four mesh carts, and they all stacked the boxes inside of them. After that, the group followed him back through the tunnels with the carts. They crossed through the prison area and, after more twists and turns, ended up in the elevator corridor where Sarah had seen those sick children.

As they walked, she peeked through the windows expecting to see their gaunt bodies on cots, but they were gone. What happened to them? She was just about to ask, but then she remembered what Teslaface had said to her – Keep your mouth shut! – and pressed on.

She entered the elevator with the group and took it to the second-highest floor.