Obey, Number 25

THIS STORY IS UNFINISHED

Wake up.

It’s the first Command every one of us gets as soon as the numbers on the clock at the end of the Sleeping Hall read 6:00 AM. Not that we ever see the numbers shift from 5:59 AM to 6:00 AM. We’re never commanded to wake up before 6:00 AM.

As one, all 50 members of Legion 306 sit up in our cots, feet straight out in front, backs ramrod straight.

Get up.

As one, 50 men swing their legs out of bed and into 50 pairs of slippers.

Get into line.

And as one, we all rise and file into lines based on number order. I’m Number 25, middle of the pack. Not that our place in line matters. 

Complete Morning Routine 1.

In sync, we strip off our nightclothes as we shuffle to the Shower Hall and dump them into the collecting basket at the end of the Sleeping Hall. 

As soon as motion sensors detect Number 1, showerheads start spewing water for fifteen seconds. Then antibacterial fluid for one minute and thirty seconds. We start with our close-cropped hair, then arms, midriffs, and legs. More water for one minute. And then hot air for two minutes. Not a drop of water remains on anyone. 

Motion sensors detect us in the Dressing Hall, and 50 pairs of starchy uniforms drop from the ceiling into 50 waiting hands. We dress and pull on our boots from the cubbies in the wall. I fumble with the laces, trying to get them tight, but before I can, I get a new Command.

Exit.

I rise, leaving the laces on my right boot dangling. The doors slide open, and 50 men exit Barracks 306. Still in line, I watch the other Legions in our Block file out of their respective Barracks. Ten Barracks per Block, arranged in a square around the Cafeteria. I know all 500 Legions, male and female, in this District are lined up outside their Barracks, even though I can only see the activity in our Block. Everyone obeys Commands. Everything is always in Order.

 Just like that, Morning Routine 1 is completed.

We never decide what morning routine to complete. The Upper Classes do. But I wonder–

Proceed to the Cafeteria. 

All thoughts are banished from my mind and my posture straightens, guided by the invisible hand of the Command. We march across the gravel walkway connecting Barracks 306 to the Cafeteria and take our spots at the ten long tables lining the room. Panels in the table open and our servings of Sustenance rise up.

Eat.

As one, 500 men grab their cups of Sustenance and drink. As one, 500 men set their cups down on the table. The panels open and 500 cups disappear from view.

Be at ease.

500 shoulders slump as the Indefinite Command lifts the weight of previous Definite Commands. Chatter begins to fill the room. Next to me, Number 24 starts drumming his fingers on the table. 

“I wonder what announcements there’ll be today,” he says.

“The usual I suppose,” I reply, “Updates. Assignments.”

Number 26 leans over. “Did you notice? The Sustenance tasted different today. Almost…sweet.”

Number 24 scoffs. “Sustenance never has any taste.”

They continue arguing about Sustenance while I lean back in my seat and fix my eyes on the holographic screen. Soon it flickers to life as the Block Commander walks to the platform right beneath the screen.

Be at attention.

My back straightens again and the Cafeteria speakers crackle.

“Good morning,” the Block Commander says.

 Reply.

In unison, 500 voices reply, “Good morning, Commander.” 

Salute.

Everyone lifts two fingers to their brow since the Commander is a Class 2. 

Listen.

“Before we get into Updates and Assignments, I have one Reminder for everyone.”

If I could, I’d gasp. We rarely get Reminders.

The Block Commander gestures to the screen and a video begins to play. 500 pairs of eyes squint as we watch a Legion line up outside their Barracks for Morning Routine. Nothing seems out of Order. Until Number 3 steps out of line and walks towards the barracks. Immediately, his body convulses, presumably since he’s Commanded to return to the line. He struggles valiantly but to no avail. Commands can’t be defied. He returns to his spot in the line. The video screen blacks out.

“Number 3 of Legion 107 has been Discharged. This serves as a Reminder that as Class 3 citizens, you receive both Definite and Indefinite Commands and must obey all of them. You know that before the Commands, there was no Order. Preserve the Order. Obey.”

“Obey,” echo 500 voices. We don’t need to be Commanded to do that. 

The Block Commander drones on. “There are no Updates today. Onto assignments. Legion 300–Transport. Legion 301–Sustenance. Legion 302–Security. Legion 303…”

As  Class 3 citizens, we are meant to serve Classes 2 and 1. That is why we receive both Definite and Indefinite Commands. Class 2 only receives Indefinite Commands, and Class 1 receives no Commands. But they must have something. There is no Order without Commands, right? But if there was no Order before Commands, what was there instead?

Finally, the Commander calls our Legion. “Legion 306–Procreation.”

Again, I’d gasp if I could. Procreation is only Assigned once the Discharge Quota is met, and that only happens every few years. It seems today is a day of rarities. 

Once all the assignments are called, the Block Commander barks, “Dismissed!”

500 men rise as individual Commands begin to reverberate in our heads so we may begin to fulfill our Assignments. 

Proceed to the Procreation Center. 

The fifty members of Legion 306 line up and we proceed to the Procreation Center. 

*****

We arrive at the Center at the same time a female Legion arrives. The doors glide open, and we come upon a fork in the hallway.

Proceed to the left.

We do. The female Legion goes to the right.

Remove your clothes.

50 white uniforms are tossed into the collection basket at the end of the hall. 

Receive your Pill.

Panels in the wall hiss open and 50 metal trays with 50 pale blue pills pop out. I reach out to grab mine, but suddenly I’m flat on the floor. I tripped over my loose shoelaces.

Rise.

Wait! I didn’t get my pill! I get to my feet and reach for the tray, but–

Proceed forward.

I try reaching for the tray again, but the new Command won’t let me. My feet keep moving forward. 

The next portion of the hallway has 50 doors.

Enter Room 25.

Figures. My hand opens the door, even though my mind is still stuck on the pill I didn’t take. What is it for?

A female from the other legion is already in the room, sitting on a narrow cot. I forget about the pill as soon as I realize she is also without uniform.

“Hello.” I shift on my feet. “I’m Number 25, Legion 306.”

She cocks her head. “Number 25, Legion 125.”

We both smile at that. 

I ask, “Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”

“They’ll Command us soon.”

And sure enough, they do, every step of the way.

At a certain point, the Commands don’t feel like Commands anymore.

*****

I don’t want to sleep that night. But I’m Commanded to anyway.

*****

The next day at breakfast, after we’ve been Commanded to be at ease, I ask Number 24, “Did you enjoy Procreating?”

His face scrunches in confusion. “What do you mean? I don’t remember anything from yesterday’s assignment.

“Everything’s a blur,” Number 26 chimes in.

Now it’s my turn for my face to scrunch. “You mean you don’t remember, ah…” I trail off, not knowing how to describe my experiences from yesterday.

“I don’t know what you did differently, Number 25.” I didn’t take my pill. “Perhaps we should file a Report?”

“No, no, not necessary.” I hide my shaking hands under the table. Number 24 looks like he wants to say more, but the Block Commander has entered.

Be at attention.

Just like that, the conversation is over. Never has a Command been more timely.

*****

Every night in my cot, I see Number 25’s face. Her sharp cheekbones, soft brown hair. But not for long. 

The Command to sleep always comes too soon.

*****