Chapter 9 #3
The idea of my parents being stuck behind those bare walls for possibly months made my stomach drop.
If Fairwell had a constant flow of people they were helping from the outside, it could be constantly crowded with strangers, which would be my parents’ idea of a living hell.
Besides, if they were here on this separate little islet, I didn’t even know how often I could visit them.
It was bad enough being separated from my little sister for an unspecified period, not to mention my parents, too. That was a step too far.
“Alternatively,” Anna added, before I could open my mouth, “you could earn enough to support them. If you’re smart about this, you might be able to reach bronze level quickly, which should be enough to keep the lights on and enough food in the cupboards for the three of you and possibly afford the required medical assistance as well.
Bronze would really be the minimum level required, and it would be a rather austere existence for a while…
but at least it’d get your parents out of here. ”
I let out a slow breath. I liked this idea a bit better, even though I still had no idea what kind of jobs I was going to be taking on. But it seemed I’d find out soon enough, once the employment officers started coming round.
One thing I knew for sure: I would have to get my ass in gear. Not only did I need to get my parents out of that building, but I had to start saving for my sister, too. We all had to, once my parents were able to do some work.
I wasn’t sure what more I could say to Anna at this point, so I just gave her a brief nod and turned on my heels.
It wasn’t like we had a choice now.
Returning to my group, I saw that everyone had been handed pieces of paper, and Robert had kept one for me. I clutched it anxiously and read the square, bold lettering.
The first few items on the list were, as Anna had said, obvious.
They amounted to no stealing, inflicting personal harm on others, or damaging Fairwell state property.
Trash had to be disposed of in designated areas (or via “shuttles” that came round to collect it weekly), and there was also a prohibition against attempting to drive any kind of vehicle without authorization and a license—also common sense, I supposed.
After that were some less obvious ones. Like, it was apparently a criminal offense to not swipe one’s e-ring when coming to and from the main island via the bridges, or claiming credit for work when it was done…
For some reason, it was also illegal to throw any kind of food in the ocean…
“Espionage against the state” (whatever that entailed, exactly) was prohibited, and our visits to children who had been assigned guardians on Founders’ Isle would be once a week for two hours, to be arranged directly with said guardians…
Two hours. Couldn’t they have at least made it four?
Knowing there was no use in getting caught up on this issue again now, reluctantly I continued to read.
The last rules on the sheet were against picking fruits or flowers, and no food-bearing vegetation could be planted anywhere without state permission, including in our own backyards.
I had no idea why that was. I was a child of hanging fruits and flowers, rooftop gardens and vegetable patches. I had no idea how long it would take me to get used to this—if I ever would get used to it.
Anna’s voice broke through my thoughts; she had picked up the loudspeaker again. “Now, it is getting late, ladies and gentlemen, and we still need to distribute those registration forms, assuming you all still wish to stay?”
She widened her eyes in question and looked around the crowd.
Nobody said a word to the contrary, but nobody said a word in affirmation either. We just… stood there, in limbo.
But Anna assumed the silence to be an affirmative. She gestured for her colleagues to begin distributing two tall stacks of paper, which they had pulled out of a large bag, along with a big box of pens.
“It’s getting dark out here now, so I suggest you take a pen and a form, and then head back into the building,” Anna said.
“You can take your time to read the declaration and sign it inside. It’s a simple three-line statement that you accept all terms of residence and agree to become a loyal settler of Fairwell.
There’s also a form on the back that requires a few personal details: your full name, date of birth, relationship to other settlers, and some basic biometric stats such as your height, eye and hair color, approximate weight, and so on.
Parents, you must fill in the sheets on behalf of your children.
And whoever has relatives that couldn’t make it outside for the presentation this evening”—here, her eyes settled on me—“take extra copies indoors and explain the situation. Have the forms ready for tomorrow morning, when we come to pick you up. We’ll arrive at 9 a.m. with transport, so please be ready.
All children will travel with you, for now.
We will deal with their longer-term care over the next few days. ”
As her colleagues distributed the papers, I waited in line with my friends and family.
The bells reverberated atop the mountain, somehow sounding less beautiful and more eerie at this late hour.
I glanced up at the looming island, now a black jagged shadow, reminding me almost of open jaws, gaping up toward the dark heavens—the faint twinkling of lights among the slopes the only hint of life.
I looked away, shivering as a chill breeze touched my skin. Accepting four copies of the form and a pen, I turned back toward the building.