turn her in, she thought, or lecture her or at very least stop her from listening.
“I can explain,” she promised, breaking the silence.
“No, you can’t,” he corrected her. “So don’t even try.”
They did not look at each other. They stared at the green frequency number. The longer he remained silent, the more uncomfortable Gen became. She snuck peeks at him, but he remained rigid, staring vacantly at the screen. Although his disappointment was obvious, his detached reaction to it was not.
The song faded slowly away. Only the soft crackle of static remained.
“Yeah,” Zeke said, oddly unimpressed. “This isn’t ours.”
The static filled up the dark spaces of the AUDIO RELAY SYSTEMS chamber leaving the two destined mates suspended in an icy state of isolation, forever apart. Gen felt like she was floating out into open space, doomed and unattached from everyone she cared about. Why even reach back to the ever receding ship? It would only make their final glimpse of her more tragic, more hopeless.
They were both suddenly startled and stepped away from the screens. They heard breathing. Very distinctly there among the static, was the sound of someone taking breaths, someone outside the dome.
Whatever they were before that moment, they were now made the same. Two thrilled kids staring straight into the unknown. Fear and anticipation raced explosively through their veins.
“There’s someone,” Gen finally whispered, grabbing Zeke’s elbow. They looked intensely into each other’s eyes bonded by the enormity of the moment. Then they heard him, his hoarse voice, barely audible, exhausted.
“The end is near, my darling listeners,” the DJ weakly said, then cleared his throat. “When the music stops, the ballroom will be cleared.”
The DJ stopped talking, but they could still hear him breathing. They could feel him thinking. Gen grabbed Zeke’s elbow again glancing up to him like a child needing reassurance.
“I’ve been without cake now two weeks hence and so, alas, our fate should be of no surprise.” The DJ began to laugh at himself or his fate or the fact that no one was likely listening or all of these things. “What is a ballroom without cake and music after all, but a tomb?”
The words chilled Gen and she fell into Zeke’s side. He had no choice but to hold her up by putting his arm around her shoulder.
“But enough of my peckish old tum, today there is yet music. Let’s all rejoice with a little toe tapping good times.” A sudden, peppy beat filled up the speakers of AUDIO RELAY SYSTEMS. Zeke reached quickly to the screen to turn down the music to a comfortable level.
Gen realized she was leaning against Zeke and stood back from him quickly. She tried but could not look him in the eye. “I can feel your judgment. You might as well just say it.”
Zeke reached out again and ran his fingers through her hair with an odd expression on his face. “Now you do not pull away. Funny.” He let her hair drop and walked away to a darker space. “So this is why you took Tuna’s scrollpad. He was right to doubt you in the gardens.” He turned around to watch her reaction.
Gen put on a defiant face. “What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t it about time you start telling the truth? I know everything about Tuna, Gen.” He dropped his eyes, retreating from hers. “And I know everything about Adam.”
She sensed he was hurt in a way she did not understand. She had been waiting for a lecture about the safety of the project and the fate of all mankind. It never happened. Instead, the strongest boy in the dome was wounded in ways she could not fathom. “They’ve been acting strange,” she could only say. “I was curious.”
“They’ve been acting strange?” It was his turn to become defiant. “Really? They’ve changed for the better at least. How about you? None of the protocol seems to matter to you at all. You ignore the very rules meant to save us.” His face flooded
“I can explain,” she promised, breaking the silence.
“No, you can’t,” he corrected her. “So don’t even try.”
They did not look at each other. They stared at the green frequency number. The longer he remained silent, the more uncomfortable Gen became. She snuck peeks at him, but he remained rigid, staring vacantly at the screen. Although his disappointment was obvious, his detached reaction to it was not.
The song faded slowly away. Only the soft crackle of static remained.
“Yeah,” Zeke said, oddly unimpressed. “This isn’t ours.”
The static filled up the dark spaces of the AUDIO RELAY SYSTEMS chamber leaving the two destined mates suspended in an icy state of isolation, forever apart. Gen felt like she was floating out into open space, doomed and unattached from everyone she cared about. Why even reach back to the ever receding ship? It would only make their final glimpse of her more tragic, more hopeless.
They were both suddenly startled and stepped away from the screens. They heard breathing. Very distinctly there among the static, was the sound of someone taking breaths, someone outside the dome.
Whatever they were before that moment, they were now made the same. Two thrilled kids staring straight into the unknown. Fear and anticipation raced explosively through their veins.
“There’s someone,” Gen finally whispered, grabbing Zeke’s elbow. They looked intensely into each other’s eyes bonded by the enormity of the moment. Then they heard him, his hoarse voice, barely audible, exhausted.
“The end is near, my darling listeners,” the DJ weakly said, then cleared his throat. “When the music stops, the ballroom will be cleared.”
The DJ stopped talking, but they could still hear him breathing. They could feel him thinking. Gen grabbed Zeke’s elbow again glancing up to him like a child needing reassurance.
“I’ve been without cake now two weeks hence and so, alas, our fate should be of no surprise.” The DJ began to laugh at himself or his fate or the fact that no one was likely listening or all of these things. “What is a ballroom without cake and music after all, but a tomb?”
The words chilled Gen and she fell into Zeke’s side. He had no choice but to hold her up by putting his arm around her shoulder.
“But enough of my peckish old tum, today there is yet music. Let’s all rejoice with a little toe tapping good times.” A sudden, peppy beat filled up the speakers of AUDIO RELAY SYSTEMS. Zeke reached quickly to the screen to turn down the music to a comfortable level.
Gen realized she was leaning against Zeke and stood back from him quickly. She tried but could not look him in the eye. “I can feel your judgment. You might as well just say it.”
Zeke reached out again and ran his fingers through her hair with an odd expression on his face. “Now you do not pull away. Funny.” He let her hair drop and walked away to a darker space. “So this is why you took Tuna’s scrollpad. He was right to doubt you in the gardens.” He turned around to watch her reaction.
Gen put on a defiant face. “What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t it about time you start telling the truth? I know everything about Tuna, Gen.” He dropped his eyes, retreating from hers. “And I know everything about Adam.”
She sensed he was hurt in a way she did not understand. She had been waiting for a lecture about the safety of the project and the fate of all mankind. It never happened. Instead, the strongest boy in the dome was wounded in ways she could not fathom. “They’ve been acting strange,” she could only say. “I was curious.”
“They’ve been acting strange?” It was his turn to become defiant. “Really? They’ve changed for the better at least. How about you? None of the protocol seems to matter to you at all. You ignore the very rules meant to save us.” His face flooded
Similar Books
