“Everyone up!”
Officers moved through the barracks, clanging their batons on the bed posts to wake everyone. Dana sat up, rubbing her eyes.
“Up!” an officer yelled at her.
Dana stood up and pulled on her clothes. They had actually been pressed and washed in the middle of the night in preparation of the president’s arrival. Officer Burroughs didn’t want them looking too filthy for her annual visit.
The line of people shifted over to the eating hall. Dana looked at her tray in shock at seeing a slice of ham with oatmeal. “What happened to the usual fare of slimy glop?” she asked the server.
The man glared at her, but remained silent.
Of course, thought Dana, the president is coming, so we are allowed something different and halfway decent.
Dana sat with Elsie and Sanders as had become her custom. She tried to enjoy her meal while she could, not knowing when they’d be allowed decent food again.
“She’s coming today,” said Sanders, referring to the president’s visit.
“We never would have figured that out,” replied Elsie. “What first alerted you to all this?”
Sanders gave her a piercing stare.
“Is that why we’re being allowed real food?” asked someone sitting nearby.
“Yeah,” said Sanders. “It’s their way of letting us know that she cares about our plight. We don’t even have to work today.”
“Nope,” said Elsie, “we just have to show up, show our respect, and the rest of the day is free.”
“Free,” muttered Dana.
“What’s with you?” asked Elsie.
Dana stared at her plate still thinking about the man that had died in her arms, gunned down like an animal. “I’m starting to wonder how we think of ourselves as free when everything we do is regulated.”
“What do you mean?” asked Sanders.
Picking at the ham on her plate, Dana looked up and looked both Elsie and Sanders in the eyes. “Yesterday, I was sent to the Agricultural District where the food is grown for us. They were treated worse there than we are here. One man tried to escape and the officers killed him. They didn’t even think about it. They just shot him. He died right in front of me, and I will never forget the look on his face.”
“What—”
”And one man was so hungry that he took an apple from the bunch he had just picked. I watched as officers beat him senseless. No one did anything. Not even me.”
“Well, what could you have done?” asked Elsie. “This is our world.”
“Elsie’s right,” said Sanders. “There isn’t anything you could have done. You know why we were all sent here in the first place.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” said Dana.
The buzzer sounded. As one, people gathered up their trays and placed them in the drop-off area.
“Time to line up,” said Elsie.
Dana followed the line as they marched to the main area of the plant. The machinery and incinerator had been shut off. Dana sighed. A day of no work meant tomorrow would be filled with added labor.
She took her place in the second row of the lineup. Glancing around, Dana had never realized just how many people actually lived and worked in Waste Management.
Armed officers marched into the area. They formed a protective barrier around them. More walked in front, forming groups of two near the platform that had been constructed for the president.
Instantly, the loudspeakers came to life as the anthem of Dystopia blared through them. Trumpets and strings played a triumphant, yet ominous tune.
Trying to peek over the shoulders of the person in front of her, Dana stood on her tippy toes. She watched as a lone figure silhouetted by light casually entered the room.
Officer Burroughs clapped loudly. A loud explosion sounded as applause filled the room. Dana glanced about her. Everyone put their hands together, but many did so halfheartedly. She kept hers by her side.
Men burst into song, singing the anthem of Dystopia. Dana refused to join in.
We are the land
of strength and unity.
Together, we stand
in collective serenity.
One man alone;
weak and overcome,
he dies so easily.
Together, we are strong
with strength in numbers;
nothing more do we need.
Hail to mighty Dystopia
where we have equality.
Hail to mighty Dystopia
where all live free.
After the singing ended, Officer Burroughs stepped forward and greeted President Klens. Their pasted smiles told Dana that it was all ceremony; they didn’t care for one another.
A man dressed in a crisp uniform with a switch in his hands caught Dana’s attention. Instantly, she feared him. His cold expression and heartless eyes filled her with dread. Dana hoped to never meet him.
“Thank you. Thank you all,” said President Klens in the microphone. “And thank you, Officer Burroughs, for allowing me to visit your establishment.”
“Like he had a choice,” muttered the man next to Dana.
“It is an honor to visit you all here at the Waste Management plant. As you know, the job you do here is of vital importance to Dystopia. It is you who keep our society clean.
“And we are aware of your sacrifice. That is why I have decided to allow you all two days off a week. Days that you can use as you desire. And for those of you who have just been assigned here, your families will be allowed to visit for a day.
“I know the importance of family,” continued President Klens, “and I know that you must miss them terribly. Unfortunately, some of us are called upon to make sacrifices. And for your efforts, you are all to be commended and honored.”
President Klens paused a moment as she surveyed the crowd, wondering what affect her words had. Stoic faces stared back at her.
“Unfortunately, Dystopia has suffered a few economic reversals. Some were beyond our means to control. But most of it was because of a small group of people who do not like our ordered society. They believe that they should be able to do as they please, regardless of how it affects the rest of us. But I refuse to allow our family, our collective, to be done away with by such selfishness.
“Therefore, I have come to ask you all to once again make a sacrifice for the good of our society. I know what many of you are thinking. How can we when you have already given so much? But at a time when our resources are limited, we must all tighten our belts.
“Therefore, I am going to propose a measure where everyone, I repeat, everyone will have to use only what they need. And if they have more than they need, they are to give to someone who has less. This way, we will all prosper.”
“And what sacrifices are you making?” shouted one man. Dana glanced over. He was no more than 25.
Instantly, officers pushed their way through the crowd and seized him. He kicked as they hauled him away. She never saw the man again. Never even knew his name, though now she wished she did.
Dana glanced back at President Klens. An incensed expression filled her face. She brushed back a strand of hair, the diamond bracelet on her wrist glinting in the sunlight.
“But these lean times will not last forever,” continued President Klens, controlling her voice, “as one day, we will have more than enough to meet our needs. But despite this setback, there is one thing you can all be thankful for. We have achieved true equality.”
“What equality?” The words were out of Dana’s mouth before she realized that she had even spoken them.
“Excuse me?” said President Klens.
The crowd parted allowing Dana to be fully exposed.
“What equality?” repeated Dana. “I am certain that you have never worked a day in your life doing manual labor. Your father was the president before you, and your grandfather before him. When have you ever had to wonder if you’d have food to eat that day? And from the looks of it, I don’t think your meals are
rationed.”
President Klens pinched her face as it flushed red with anger. She hated being challenged, especially by some young upstart. “You did not join in singing the anthem. Why?”
Dana choked a moment. So she did notice. “Because the words aren’t true.”
“Really?”
Dana saw George shake his head at her, warning her to remain silent. Dana’s anger refused to let her obey. “How can you claim freedom and equality when our lives are chosen for us? Those whose parents run the various advisory boards always get the best careers, while the rest of us are sent here. They get the best of everything. Asking questions means being arrested and disappearing. And what about the children that are born here? They will never be allowed to leave this place.”
“The career board uses a lottery system to pick the careers of every individual,” said President Klens in a silky voice.
“Well, the lottery is fixed,” replied Dana. “Why can’t you just leave people alone to live their own lives?”
“She’s right,” said someone within the crowd.
Murmurs spread through the workers at the plant. Others started yelling. Suddenly, the place exploded as shots rang out. A few fell from the gunfire. Incensed, others grabbed what they could, preparing for a full blown riot. Dana stood her ground, not comprehending what had just happened.
“STOP!”
President Klens’ voice rang out over the crowd, quieting everything. Workers dropped their glass bottles and rocks, while officers lowered their guns.
“Must we resort to violence?” said President Klens. Her calm tone frightened Dana. “So you have questions, my dear. We all do. Our society is not perfect, but it is better than what has existed in the past, where selfishness and greed reigned supreme as everyone looked only to their needs, whilst forgetting about the common good.
“But to show you that I am fair and open-minded, I will let all this be forgotten. You will retain the days off that I have decreed you shall have, and your families will still be allowed to visit. And as an added measure, I will see to it personally that your food is of the highest quality.”
Deafening silence wafted over them as President Klens whispered something to the uniformed man Dana did not like. Hurriedly, she walked outside and away from an impending riot.
“Back to your barracks!” yelled Officer Burroughs.
The officers raised their guns. Knowing when not to argue, people filed back to their barracks. Dana fell in line, wondering what she had just unleashed.