“How did you overload the system?” Eien asked again.

“I flooded the signal with alternate instructions to force it to shut down.”

Another bunch of babble.

“Okay…so…Am I really contracted with you?”

“Yes.”

“Why does it feel different?” He felt instinctively at the back of his head.

“It is a different contract.”

“And…can…can they contract me again?” he asked, feeling anxiety well up in him.

“No.”

Eien relaxed then.

“Go to sleep,” Aino said.

“I have more questions…” he trailed off, suddenly realizing how tired he was, even if his mind was buzzing.

“Sleep now. We travel in the light.” He nodded, though maybe she couldn’t see the motion in the dark. Laying on his back, his mind turned black.

--

His heart exploded out of his chest as he gasped for breath, sitting up on his sleeping mat in the corner of the room. Sunlight pierced his eyes, so he rested his face in his hands, willing his heart to slow and the wind to come back into his lungs.

Slowly, sliver by sliver, his terror subsided, leaving him with the silence of a midday lull and silver sparks in the black of his shut eyes.

He leaned back slowly, scooting so that his back leaned against the wall and watched the bright spots fade from reality. His vision rested on the partly broken door that led out into the hall of the apartment building.

Motes of dust glowed in the sunlight like tiny fish in a clear stream. A gentle breeze pushed smells of cooking through the open window, and his stomach started to growl. He had been too tired to eat before he went to sleep, so he felt particularly ravenous.

He found a cold bowl of porridge next to him, so he swallowed it, avoiding letting it rest on his tongue for too long. It tasted of sadness and nothingness.

“Are you up now?” He turned his eyes up to look upon his sister’s face. She closed the door behind her, carrying a basket of clothes.

“Yeah,” he replied, “Thanks for the porridge. Tastes good.” She hesitated, dropping the basket and running over to him, hugging him around his neck.

“Oh, Eien, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!” she cried, gripping him so tightly, he had to wiggle his neck to be able to breathe again.

“It’s fine, Mari. It’s fine,” he replied, patting her on the back. He sighed as she sobbed into his shoulder.

“I told Mom and Dad they couldn’t do it! I told them we would find something else! I could work! I could go to work like you, Eien!”

“No, no, you can’t, Mari,” he replied calmly, “It was going to happen anyway. If it helps you and Mom and Dad, I will go.”

“But I won’t see you again! I won’t see you!”

“You’ll see me when I turn eighteen.”

“That’s in six, no...five years!” she wailed, “And you might not come back! Sara, her brother Tindo never came back! And the Sorenseni’s two boys never came back!”

“The Sorenseni brothers aren’t eighteen yet,” he said, “And I’m tons stronger than they are. I’ll be okay.” She cried a bit harder.

After a bit, he pushed her away, “I need to piss, sis, get off now.” She turned away as he used the chamber pot.

Rolling up his sleeping mat, she put it away with the others and started folding the laundry she had just brought in from the community hang line outside. He moved his bowl to rest with the other dirty dishes.

"When?" Mari asked, a bit quieter. Her eyes were all red and puffy and a streak of glowing dried snot flaked on her cheek.

"Probably tomorrow," he replied, "I will go myself so that Mom and Dad don't have to do anything. I'll send whatever cash I can."

"Can I at least go with you? To say goodbye?" He hesitated, and then he crushed her in his arms.

"No, Mari. It's not a good place for a girl. Stay here, okay? And keep track of Mom and Dad and the neighbors like you've been doing. I'll be out soon enough. And going a year early to be conscripted will mean I get out a year early, too! So, you'll see me when I'm seventeen! And we can hang out then. I will get a good job then. Then we won't have to...then I won't have to…" Mari was sobbing, and he knew no words would soothe the fear and anxiety.

Eien stared out the window at the sliver of sky that peeked between the buildings. It was not ideal to go early to be conscripted. He would be smaller than the others. The military was not a kind place. But it also gave him a consistent allowance. And he wouldn't be another mouth to feed at home. It was every family's hope that their sons would come home successful, but not everyone made it home. Most did not make it home.

He pushed her away as she started to calm down.

"I gotta get ready now."

"Where are you going?"

"Out. Got some people to talk to before I go. Get things ready. I'll be home tonight. I'll be home. You'll see me before I leave." Mari's face drooped. He forced a smile at her and slipped on his shoes.

"I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah...see you later." He left before she started crying again, but he heard a wail as he exited the building. He pushed down the tremor in his gut and turned his eyes to steel.

He paused a minute around the corner to fiddle with his lighter.

He sucked in smoke like a backwards dragon and exhaled like his last breath. In the coolness of the shadow of the tall projects, away from the sunlight, he contemplated his death with a cigarette in a trembling hand.

Other people walked by, carrying goods, chatting quietly in the open day. Orange dust kicked up from the dirt roads, discoloring the edges of everyone’s clothes. Gray laundry hung up high between the buildings, waving with wind. The smells of feces and urine clung to the hot air, mingling with the scents of oldness and humans. A baby was crying.

He crushed the used cigarette under his foot. Rubbing his hand through his hair, he took one last glance upwards, at the window where his family slept. He had left his sister in the room by herself.

She had let him go only when he had convinced her he was not going to leave right away.

He had lied.