The Millionth Week #3
He propped a wipe board on an easel. “One of the obvious responses is excitement. We expect people to celebrate by skipping work shifts, drinking and smoking contraband, and excessively mating. All minor infractions that the peace keepers have dealt with before. The biggest thing will be getting people to keep working.”
“Just remind them that if they don’t, this rusting bucket of rivets might not make it to Outside,” Ofira said.
“And there’s going to be an actual end to their work. Something we’ve never had,” Adia said. “People can endure quite a bit when they know it will end.”
“Like childbirth,” Ivette said.
“Exactly!”
“Plus, we can appeal to their pride,” Cleo said. “If there are Outsiders waiting for us, they should be impressed we managed to live in this…what did you call it?” She glanced at Ofira.
“A rusting bucket of rivets.”
Cleo laughed. “That we survived for a million weeks and despite the various revolutions, rebellions, skirmishes, fights, takeovers, and riots throughout our history, we’ve reach harmony.”
“Mostly,” Rawson amended. “The second obvious reaction is fear. Fear of the unknown. We expect people will have nightmares, and some people will need to talk to Doctor Adia and her staff. Others might be more…irrational and we expect there might be sabotage attempts. I suggest we station extra peace keepers at all critical facilities.”
“Do you have enough staff?” Cleo asked.
“Not trained for this.”
“I can loan you a bunch of my maintenance people,” Ofira said. “My team is very protective of their equipment and will be motivated to keep it safe.”
“Don’t you need them to prep for our arrival?” Cleo asked.
“I do, but I don’t need the extra work fixing the damage.”
Good point.
“The fear might be so all consuming to some people, that they’ll end their lives,” Adia said. “Hopefully, they’ll come talk to my staff before that point, but we need to be diligent and teach everyone how to recognize the signs if their family or friends are considering suicide.”
Unfortunately, there were a handful of people every generation who had decided to stop living. “I will ask Zavier to dive deep into the historical files and find as much information about Outside as possible. That will hopefully help people manage their fear.”
“Other responses will be dread, and an unwillingness to change,” Rawson said.
“Dread and anxiety are closely related to fear,” Adia said. “People might have physical symptoms like headaches, trouble sleeping, panic attacks, and shortness of breath. I’ll do a refresher course for my staff in how to deal with these symptoms.”
“Unwillingness to change can be expressed in different ways,” Mazin said. “We expect some people to not believe us. To insist that we’re lying and claim that when we reach one million weeks, nothing will happen.”
“I think there’s a part of every single person, including all of us that worries that scenario will happen,” Ivette said. She glanced around, seeking confirmation.
“Oh, yes,” Cleo said. “I can’t let myself hope. Not fully.”
The others murmured their agreement.
“An unwillingness to change might be so strong a person will refuse to leave Inside,” Mazin said, getting them back on track.
Ofira laughed. “Let them stay. Without the bulk of the population, they’ll be able to survive for a thousand weeks or so.”
“Why not longer?” Adia asked. “They’ll have plenty of resources.”
“The machinery. The original designers accounted for the longevity of our trip. The machines are not built to last much longer.”
Rawson consulted the wipe board. “The last response that we expect is for some people to take advantage of those who are afraid.”
“In what way?” Cleo asked.
“Tricking people into using fake remedies for nightmares or spreading false rumors. The deniers might try to recruit others. I’m sure there are many other ways. People can be very creative.”
Lovely. “Anything else?”
“I’m sure we missed something,” Rawson said. “This is a brand new situation in our long, long history, and we can’t prepare for everything.”
“That’s a good point. We’ll need to stay vigilant, be observant, and react swiftly. It’s going to be a difficult challenge, but I know you all can handle it.” Cleo glanced at those assembled. “How long do you need to inform your staff and get them ready for the announcement?”
There was a rumble of discussion. Ofira consulted with Rawson. In the end, they decided three weeks would be enough time.
When all was in place, Cleo made the announcement.
“Greetings citizens of Inside, this is your captain, Cleo Ashon with exciting news.
In one hundred and ninety five weeks, we will be arriving at Outside and completing our mission.
Congratulations for being the generation to be part of this unprecedented event!
“The video screens in all the common areas are displaying all the information we have about Outside. We will update the details when we learn more, and I will announce them as well. I know this might be a cause for fear and if you’re feeling anxious, please see a medic for help.
Also please verify any news you might hear from your fellow citizens.
You can ask any peace keeper for the correct information.
This is all new for all of us, so please be patient, please help others who might be upset, and please keep working.
We still need your full effort to reach Outside.
Once there, you can all relax. Captain Cleo out. ”
Cleo disconnected and looked at Commander Mazin. “Well?”
“Not bad. Let’s hope everyone doesn’t panic,” he said.
In the following twenty weeks, the citizens reacted as expected. No sabotage attempts. Yet. No irrational measures. Yet. No one ending their life. Yet. Cleo wouldn’t relax until they were in orbit, whatever that meant.
Cleo made frequent loops around each level, answering questions.
Yes, Outside is a planet and can sustain life.
Well, we don’t know what a planet is, but Inside’s builders would never send us to a hostile environment.
Pictures of a vast blue ceiling and a green floor were shown on the video screens.
Another photo showed giant plants that must feed thousands.
Yes, Outside is bigger than Inside, there’ll be plenty of room to expand our population. And on and on.
She was proud of the job her command team was doing and happy to see most of the citizens buzzed with a nervous excitement—a normal reaction.
Cleo had just checked in with Ivette in hydroponics.
Food consumption remained steady—a good sign—and Cleo was optimistic about the next hundred and seventy-five weeks until a knife stabbed through her back.
Pain exploded in her chest and the force sent her sprawling forward.
“Chomper’s waiting for you, Captain,” a rough male voice whispered in her ear.
If she could breathe, she’d laugh. After all their careful preparations to deal with the people’s reactions, no one considered assassination. Her only regret, not being there to see Outside. And Zavier…
“Cleo. Come on, Captain. Breathe,” Doctor Adia cajoled.
She couldn’t draw a breath. Agony seized her chest. The taste of bile and blood filled her mouth.
“Put her back on the respirator,” Zavier said with a bit of panic lacing his voice. “She isn’t ready.”
“Are you a medic now?” Adia asked sharply. “She’s my patient. Cleo, come on, honey. Deep breaths. The damage to your heart and lung has been repaired.”
Pain pounded with her heartbeat.
“I supposed Zavier is right and you’re not—”
Cleo drew in enough air to fill her lungs. It burned going down her throat and every muscle in her chest protested. She expelled the fire and, even though it hurt, she drew another breath.
“Typical.” Zavier huffed out his relief. “She’d do anything to prove me wrong.”
Something cold pressed on her chest. “Keep going, Captain. In and out.”
The sensation around her heart eased into an ache. Her breathing steadied. Cleo rejoiced in the sensation.
The cold metal moved. “One oh five beats per minute,” Adia said.
“Isn’t that too high?” Zavier asked.
“Not at all. She’s just coming around; I expected her heart rate to be higher.”
At the word “heart” Cleo’s memories came flooding back. The knife. The shock. The nothingness that had greeted her.
“Ah there it goes. Relax Cleo. You’ve survived and the danger has passed,” Adia said.
Zavier gave a derisive snort. “I wouldn’t say the danger has passed.”
“In terms of her health it has. Now hush.”
Cleo opened her eyes and squinted in the bright daylights. Doctor Adia leaned over her and Zavier hovered behind Adia’s shoulder. She glanced around, recognizing Zavier’s living room. What was she doing lying on a bed in his place? Unable to speak, she lifted an eyebrow.
“Lots has happened since you were assassinated,” Adia said.
Assassinated? Not an assassination attempt? Cleo struggled to sit up and failed. Stupid uncooperative muscles.
“Zavier will explain it all to you when you’re stronger,” Adia said.
Cleo opened her mouth to protest but stopped at Adia’s hard expression.
“Your job is to rest. I’ll be back in a week to check on you. In the meantime, Zavier already learned how to care for you. Let him know If you’re in pain.”
Before she could leave, Cleo croaked out a thank you. Adia nodded and waited by the door.
Zavier checked his computer. “It’s clear.”
Adia slipped out so quick Cleo wondered if she had dreamt the doctor’s presence. “What’s going on?” Her voice was more of a rasp this time.
“You want some water?” Zavier asked.
“I want answers.”
He poured her some water. “Not until you’re stronger.”
“I’m—” She dropped the heavy glass.
Zavier caught it before it spilled on the bed. “You’re what? Weak as a lamb? That you are.” He set the glass down and helped her sit up. Propping her on a stack of pillows, he returned the drink.
This time she held it in both hands.