Aerin steps up to the console and opens it. It’s full of wires and fuses, but nothing is familiar to me. As she’s examining it, I hear a clanging sound over the whirring of the generator.
“Aerin, did you hear that?”
“Holy shit!” She keeps her focus on the panel. “There’s a map of the whole complex here!”
I take a step to the side, look around the end of the generator, and up to the catwalk. I notice a light that I don’t think was illuminated before.
“Aerin?” I whisper.
“I think I can use the map to trace this to the other sections of the complex,” she says. “It might take some time though.”
I close my eyes for a moment, listening closely. I hear a slight, rhythmic tapping sound that can only be one thing.
“There might be a diagram somewhere. That would help a lot.”
“Quiet!” I move back to her side and pull her against me, pressing my back to the outside wall of the generator. “There’s someone else here!”
We stand motionless as the thudding footsteps come closer. I glance around, looking for a better place to hide and see a row of crates stacked up a few feet away. Keeping my grip on Aerin, I race to the crates and crouch down behind them. A moment later, I hear a man and a woman speaking.
“Will the overall capacity be enough?” he asks.
“Probably not, but it’s the best option we have,” the woman responds.
“There are seven hundred people coming from the north,” he says. “Where are we going to put seven hundred people? Not within these walls.”
“I don’t know why they have to come here at all. Hilltop can house two hundred of them, and the rest can settle in the valley.”
“These are people of value,” the male voice says. “Educated people. Scientists, doctors, and engineers. I even heard a rumor that one of them managed to get solar panels to double their efficiency. These are people we need, not the refuse down in the valley.”
“And how many residents are there in that plastic town?”
“Just Plastictown. Platterston, really.”
“I don’t care,” she says sternly. “How many?”
“Nearly three hundred.”
I lean over slowly to look around the edge of a crate. Right next to the control panel on the outside of the generator housing, the man and woman stand facing one another. She has short, grey hair and wears a conservative skirt, buttoned-up blouse, and a jacket. He is younger with a bushy moustache and a full head of straight hair that curls up at the collar of his lab coat.
“So, we need to get rid of half the population,” she says. “A plague-resistant population, no less.”
“Exactly.” The man smiles.
“And how do you propose to do that?”
“Well, what we got here,” he says with a grin, “is a plan already in motion.” He chuckles softly as he looks down at his shoes. “You don’t need to concern yourself with the Plastictown residents.”
“What does that mean?”
“Let’s just say, the less you know the better.”
“Fine.” She huffs and begins to walk away. “Don’t think I didn’t read the roster though—I know who you’re bringing here. Just keep me out of your messes. The first batch will be arriving in five days. They will take up residence in the quarters above us. You have two weeks until a larger group arrives, and they’ll all be here by the end of the year. Make sure you have your shit together before then.”
“Not a problem, ma’am.”
“Oh, one more thing.” She stops in her tracks and turns to face the younger man. “I see your dignitary will be arriving with the first group to tour the complex and go over strategy. We’ll need to find suitable quarters for him.”
“I don’t know about suitable,” the young man replies, “but there’s an efficiency suite upstairs. It has a bedroom, kitchen, and bath—everything he would need. It’s been thoroughly cleaned, too. I used it while I was here the first time, and the electricity should still be on up there. Hot water, too.”