From Deep Within

“You must keep working, Ana!” My sister whispered urgently as she hoisted me up from under my frail arm. “You cannot let them see you collapse!”

“Da, Lena. Thank you” I feebly replied. Feeling my sister’s grip in the crook of my axilla inundated me with strength enough to rise from the dusty ground. All around us, the other laborers were sleepwalking zombies with shuffling gaits and empty expressions. They continued to work on their assignments unblinkingly. Hover barrows hummed by and rail carts clanked their way along rusty tracks as they transported minerals throughout the mine complex. Drones buzzed through stuffy air in the expansive chamber, which was a node in a subterranean network connected by a series of tight passages and shafts. Underground, nobody else acknowledged my misstep. Nobody acknowledged anything that ever happened to me, except for Lena. Heavy-lidded eyeballs stared directly forward and out for another one thousand yards, cognizant there was nothing in their immediate sphere of existence that could remind them of what joy felt like. The filthy workers kept hopelessly slogging away like a tick that has been banished to the toilet, accepting that no action on their part could ever unshackle them from their life of doom, but going through the motions anyway. For us Liberated, our only means of surviving to another day was to continually prove our capacity to work.

“During the lunch quarter, you must sit up straight and eat extra fast, to show your strength. Then during the review, they may only think you’ve tripped” advised my sister. She hastily wiped the residual salt and smudge from my sunken cheek with her bony digits. The preening gesture allowed me to catch a glimpse of Lena's charm, which hung from her neck in secret under her monochromatic garments. This old locket was the only artifact from the pre-Conflict era I had ever seen. It was a minuscule, corroded old piece that at one time was probably beautifully golden. The heart-shaped charm would open from the side and reveal a worn portrait of Lena and me. We sat crossed legged and arranged in line, front to back. We wore matching jean short overalls and white t-shirts. My fine, black hair was messily styled up and to the side. Her dirty blonde locks were put up in two sprouting pigtails. Both of us had the innocent and optimistic smiles of children with their whole lives ahead of them. On the back of the locket was inscribed Helena & Anastasia, Together Forever. It was given to my sister from our parents on the day we were sent to the mines for service. I was not old enough to remember them, but Lena remembered, and she frequently recounted tales of our long-lost family life. A warmth blossomed in my chest anytime she told stories from my infancy, how even during the Conflict our parents managed to carve out a sanctuary of hope and love amid the despair. All I ever wanted was to feel that; like I belonged somewhere I was loved.

After the morning's worth of hover barrows had been loaded, 1245 finally arrived. The lunch quarter had begun for our shift and a herd of downtrodden silhouettes crowded in the mess hall. Their hollow faces were hung low as they plodded ahead of us. Lena sat at the table with the adolescent age group and I at mine. The speakers kept playing the anthem:

To be of service, that’s the only life for me,

Without distraction, so I can finally be free,

When my time is up, I will retire gratefully

Because I know I’ve earned the right to be relived

Echoes from the tune reverberated in my ear canals, partly because it was played daily at the lunch quarter and it became a parasitic earworm. The hymn was amplified above its usual volume that day, to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the Conflict. The tension it was causing with the other Liberated was palpable and I sensed a shift in the collective demeanor. Defeated expressions which usually adorned the mugs of those around me were being replaced by agitation, and I heard a disturbance arising from the adult section of the cafeteria. Guards began making their way to nucleus of the crowd that was forming. I looked nervously at Lena, who established eye-contact with me while simultaneously monitoring the situation. The adult Liberated seemed like they were about to quell on their own when suddenly the Anthem was interrupted, and the lights began to flicker. I detected a trembling from within the earth, but this was no ordinary earthquake. Our guards looked surprised, like soldiers caught in a crossfire without orders. The seismic activity seemed to have a rhythm too. It wasn’t the familiar mashing and grinding of tectonic plates jockeying for position. This was more like being on the inside of a bass drum as it was being struck by some external mallet. The red-tinted backup lights came on then finally all chaos broke lose.

A throng of Liberated began to swarm the sentries like a bike of hornets, beating on our oppressors with hands and feet until they were disarmed, then dispatched. While this was happening, bot guards piled into the room and began blaring orders to get down. The rebels fired back at the robots, with little effect, but we had numbers in our favor. When one of them went down, another emboldened laborer rose to replace their fallen comrade. Eventually some teen-aged Liberated also began attacking the mechanized enforcers with their own hands and feet, and some crude objects laying around the cafeteria. I took the time to steal another glance at Lena. She was motioning emphatically for me to look somewhere. I gazed out in the direction my sister was indicating and noticed that the door to the labor tunnels was left open and unguarded. We nonverbally coordinated plans to each other from across the room and sprinted from our respective hiding places towards the exit. A few others followed behind us, with mixed luck, as the robots were beginning to regain control of the mess hall.

Out in the shafts nobody was in control. Red lights were blinking, illuminating the dark halls intermittently. Sirens rang and announcements commanded to return to the mess hall at once. None of these warnings were heeded, as people and bots crisscrossed in every direction. Lena grabbed my hand and we flew towards the furthest sector of the complex. During our time in the mines, the closer we approached this region the heavier and more scrutinizing security became, indicating something there was clearly important enough to keep off limits to us Liberated. With every turn through the labyrinth, we witnessed heavier and heavier fighting. A jogging guard spotted me as I made my way between hiding places. His weapon turned towards me and the man commanded me to stop, which I promptly did out of conditioning. Lena called out "NO!" and redirected his attention towards her. As he trained the muzzle of his weapon on my sister, a group of armed Liberated swept in from behind me and engaged the guard. He triaged the situation and abandoned us to address the direct threat. The two of us capitalized on the distraction and took off again. My head was spinning the entire time we moved, and I wasn't sure of where we were anymore. The ventilation must have ceased operating because trying to breathe the stale air became like trying to breathe in fire itself. The propaganda posters that whirled by extolled the virtues of our laborious existence. Cartoon drawings of young and muscular men depicted strong forearms carrying tools of manual trades, with chins held high and a flag patriotically draped over one shoulder. I was always perplexed how workers in those posters had managed to maintain just enough grime on their faces to accentuate their sharply defined features.

We came to a halt when Lena spotted a sliver of illumination on the otherwise lifeless wall ahead of us. We tiptoed around the corner and saw that this narrow hallway had rubble strewn all about. At the end of the passageway was clearly a portal to the outside world, evidenced by the blinding sunlight penetrating the caverns through the debris. We began to clear a path, and inside of me arose a sense of conflict. Even though this place had been a horrible cesspool of despotism, it was the only home I'd ever known. I was beginning to feel a sense of guilt like how a kidnapped individual starts to feel sympathy for their captors. On cue, I looked up to see a poster of a strapping, yet beautiful young woman peering down on me to condescend my decision. Below her robust figure and matter-of-fact body language, the poster read What could be more fulfilling than serving your country? Doubt began creeping into my head and I asked Lena if we should turn back around. I could see in her eyes that she harbored the same emotions. I would trust her decision no matter what because the only place I felt more of a connection to than the mines was the place Lena and I held for each other in our hearts.

She slowly opened her mouth to reply, but before she could the sounds of shouting and running inserted themselves into our conversation. Our dilemma was resolved for us, and we both rushed back to our efforts. We continued to dilate the opening until it was big enough for my passage, and almost big enough for Lena. The commotion intensified as whoever was the source drew nearer, and as we removed the final necessary blockage, shrapnel ricocheted off the walls just next to us. Guards and drones were approaching our position and my sister stepped between the assault and me. Just like in the cafeteria, we instantly communicated our intentions through an unspoken nexus which was rooted in our love for each other. Lena didn't have to speak when she instructed me to go first to ensure my escape, promising she would follow. I couldn’t imagine doing something to jeopardize our unity, I'd rather we both turn ourselves in. That way I could be certain we would at least face our morbid fates together. But I trusted my sister wholeheartedly to honor her pledge, so I took her hand as she ushered me towards the miniature passageway we excavated. I made my ascent towards the light, but before I could establish myself physically in position two hands forced me through the orifice pushing me off balance, and at once I was thrust out into freedom.