It had been several hours since the cycle ended. Three-sixteen had forgotten it felt like being sore and exhausted after a shift. He hadn’t held a pickaxe in at least thirty or more cycles, but he couldn’t let the crew miss production because of a sudden increase halfway through the shift. Of course he made sure to make rounds, but no one had time to slack. Even Five-ninety-one kept her word. She worked as hard as any miner, which was saying something.
As a result, Three-sixteen had pushed himself to match his charges and now he was paying the price. Instead of heading to the mess for his bread allotment, Three-sixteen stumbled to his hidden cave away from the mines and away from any curious eyes.
The location was far from any dig site and further into the darkness than was considered safe. He didn’t care much about the danger; when he found the place, he was hoping not to return. He’d never seen a sifter near his secret place, or any other creature for that matter. He wasn’t sure why they stayed away, but he suspected it might have been the light. The only thing that lit his hidden cave was a glowing bush that sat just inside the opening. It wasn't big, it didn’t provide much light, but it was more than he could find in the rest of the area.
Three-sixteen settled next to it, using it like a fire. He set aside his tool, then rolled onto his side. Feeling a lump in his pocket, He sat up again and fished out the object.
He’d completely forgotten about the crystal. He should have turned it in, but now he wasn’t sure he could. When would he have an opportunity?
“I see you kept it.” Five-ninety-one said, her voice a bit strained as she squeezed through the narrow passage into the cave. “I knew you would.”
Three-sixteen stuffed the crystal back in his pocket. He felt a moment of panic, but it faded quickly. What was done was done and there was no point in hiding it now.
He shook his head at Five-ninety-one. “I didn’t mean to!”
She laughed. It was a bright sound that reminded him of the sun. She said, “Okay, I believe you. But you can’t tell me lying to the magistrate was an accident.”
Three-sixteen smiled and felt a bit of warmth creep into his cheeks. He looked away.
Five-ninety-one came and sat next to him. He didn't think he liked that, but he wasn’t sure why. She scooted closer until her arm brushed against his and he pulled away.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
He glanced up at her face, trying to make out her features in the dim light. He couldn’t, but he could see her outline, and he could hear the sincerity in her voice.
Three-sixteen sighed, he knew he shouldn’t have asked, but he couldn’t stop the words coming out, “Scared of what? I didn’t think even the magistrates phased you.”
She shook her head and the smell of her hair wafted towards him. It smelled of earth and sweat, but also of something else. Something sweeter. It was a familiar scent, one he couldn’t recall smelling before, but the scent was comforting.
“I’m terrified of dying in these caves, of never seeing the surface and never knowing what else is out there. The magistrates are scary too, but in a different, less immediate way. I mean, I don't expect them to kill me on a whim, but they have the power to. I'm not scared of them, I'm scared of the control they have over me. Even more than all that, I think I’m scared of being free.”
Three-sixteen didn’t understand what she meant. Why would freedom be terrifying?
Three-sixteen had dreamed about it from the moment he was old enough to understand the concept. He dreamed about being free, about going anywhere he wanted to go, and doing whatever he wanted to. He supposed that it might feel strange at first, but not scary.
“I mean, I guess it's not really scary. I just worry that I’ll never live a normal life. Even if I get out, I’ll always be hiding. I might eventually learn to blend in, figure out how to erase this mark on my wrist, but I don’t know if I’ll ever really be free. And if it’s just me, then…” Five-ninety-one hesitated, then she turned to look at him. Her eyes glistened with tears.
Her words weighed on his heart in a way he hadn’t expected. Three-sixteen wanted to console her, to reach out and hold her. To tell her that he understood. He moved to touch her, but he stopped short, realizing that he didn’t understand the part she left unsaid. “If it’s just you, then you could do whatever you wanted… right?”
Five-ninety-one shook her head. Tears slipped down her cheeks. She didn't wipe them away, instead she leaned forward and pressed her head against Three-sixteen’s shoulder.
He could feel her warmth and he understood her sadness, even if he didn’t quite grasp the reason. He wrapped an arm around her, patting her back gently. He said, “I think I’d prefer being alone. Being responsible for someone else is just…” he didn’t know how to express the gut-wrenching pain of watching his charges die, unable to do anything meaningful to help them.
Five-ninety-one seemed to slump a little. She whispered, her voice barely audible, but he heard her anyway, “What about friends?”
Three-sixteen shrugged, the motion pulling her closer.
Five-ninety-one looked up at him with watery eyes and asked, “Are we friends?”
Three-sixteen couldn’t help but wonder if that was why she gave him the crystal. Had she been trying to make friends with him all along?
He didn’t see any problem with saying, “Yes.”
He looked into Five-ninety-one’s eyes and added, “I suppose we are.”
She smiled and leaned closer, tilting her head up.
Three-sixteen didn't know what to do. He didn't think he'd ever been this close to another human before. Not that he could remember anyway.
The two of them stayed there together until they each drifted off to sleep. When Three-sixteen woke, he felt Five-ninety-one curled against him. Her head was still on his chest and his arm was still around her. He watched her as she slept, her breathing deep and regular.
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Then he realized it was likely time for their next shift. He jostled her awake, saying, “We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”
Five-ninety-one stretched out as she yawned. She was so relaxed that it made Three-sixteen feel like he was intruding on a private moment. He turned away as she looked up at him.
Uncomfortable, he moved towards the exit. “I’ll go on ahead, you know the way back, right?”
He assumed she did, after all, she found him here on her own.
She smiled and nodded.
He hurried out of the cave and into the narrow passage that would lead him back to the mining shafts. It felt wrong to leave her behind after having spent so long with her right next to him. The air was colder somehow, and the darkness seemed darker, more foreboding. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt like he was leaving a part of himself in the cave.
By the time he reached the main shaft, Three-sixteen was almost certain he was overreacting. He only needed to focus on his job.
If everyone did their part, this shift would be easy.
Three-sixteen reached the pit with time to spare, he found his locker and his reflective vest within. Five-ninety-one arrived as he was putting it on. She smiled and waved as she made her way to her own locker.
He didn’t return her greeting, but he did watch her until she noticed and waved again. This time, he waved back. He was happy to see her, but he was also nervous. He worried she might be too confident, or worse, that she might draw attention to him.
Three-sixteen found his way to the observation deck, but stopped in a moment of confusion when he saw another miner standing on the deck. Two magistrates stood behind him, one on his left and the other on his right. The man looked a bit older than most miners. Three-sixteen wasn’t quite sure how old exactly, maybe in his twenties. He had long, scruffy hair and eyes as black as coal.
Three-sixteen didn’t know his name, but he did know the magistrate on his left was Magistrate Luck. When he saw yellow dust in the man’s wild beard, his heart jumped into his throat, his stomach twisted and his hands began to shake.
The situation was different from what he’d feared, but this was no less dire. The miner had been caught eating a crystal. Three-sixteen prayed there was no connection between him and Five-ninety-one. He reasoned himself that it would be impossible since the two worked opposite shifts.
Still, Three-sixteen didn’t like this one bit.
The foolish man smiled at Three-sixteen, his rotting teeth visible through the gap in his lips. Three-sixteen looked away, turning his attention back to the magistrates.
He couldn’t begin to guess what they would do to the man; he only knew it would be public, and it would be brutal. He wouldn't wish it on anyone.
Luck gestured for Three-sixteen to come closer.
When he was standing directly in front of the magistrate he said, “Three-sixteen, I have a special job for you today.”
Three-sixteen nodded, but didn't speak.
Luck glanced at the man and the other magistrate.
The second magistrate, a man with short black hair and pale skin stepped forward. He examined Three-sixteen dismissively, rolling his eyes as he asked, “This is the one you’ve chosen?”
Luck nodded.
The black haired magistrate sighed. He reached into his pocket and produced a small glass vial with a cork stopper.
He said, “You get the pleasure of inserting this…” he pointed to a wriggling white worm inside the vial. “…up his rectum.”
The worm was a Lytefeeder, a parasite that could only grow inside of a host that had consumed crystals. It would devour his organs and then lay eggs in his brain before eating its way out. Three-sixteen had only ever heard about them.
The stories never mentioned its spine-covered, segmented body. They never mentioned the tiny pincher-like feet that allowed it to latch onto its host, inside or out. He’d never heard that the worm was four inches long and as fat as a finger with tiny little teeth. Three-sixteen felt like vomiting just looking at it.
The man beside him didn't seem to share his horror. He actually smiled.
Three-sixteen didn’t know what to say. He stared at the worm, wishing it would die. It didn’t, though, and Three-sixteen knew there was no way he could refuse.
If he did, Luck wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.
Three-sixteen wasn’t sure which was worse, killing a man or watching him die? He wondered if the magistrates would even care. He wondered why he was chosen for this. Was it because of his kindness?
He thought that had to be it. Magistrate Luck was trying to break him.
Maybe this was Luck's way of reminding him what would happen if he continued to defy him?
Three-sixteen looked up at the magistrate and took the vial.
He felt tiny impacts as the worm wriggled, heard its spines clink against the glass. He wanted to get this over with. To be back in his hidden little cave. He wasn’t sure how he’d feel if Five-ninety-one followed him again. He didn’t think it was wise to be around her anymore. What if it was her ass he was asked to put this parasite in… he couldn’t stomach the thought.
He stepped up behind the man. His body felt stiff and heavy. He was like rusty metal, a broken down robot.
Luck leaned down, his breath hot on Three-sixteen's neck. He said, “I want you to listen carefully. In a few minutes, a siren will sound. I will give a speech about the lunacy of a miner not only stealing, but actually eating crystals, then you will do this man the mercy of accelerating his impending death.”
Three-sixteen swallowed a lump in his throat. He nodded slowly.
Magistrate Luck leaned back, and said, “Do it.”
The other magistrate pressed a button on a handheld device, triggering a loud siren like the one used to alert everyone to a sifter attack. This siren wasn’t local to the pit though and over the blaring whales, a woman’s voice could be heard repeating, “Please report to pit four. Please report to pit four.”
As she repeated her message, Magistrate Luck stepped in front of the crowd of miners that had gathered around the pit.
He smiled as he watched them gather. When it was time, he raised his hands to silence the murmuring crowd. Keeping his voice light and cheerful, he said, “Denizens of the underground, dust-eating peasants, creatures unfit to be called human, I'm sure you're all wondering why we're here today. I’m sure each of you knows quite well the importance of a tight schedule and efficient production. That means you also know how important it is to follow rules. Rules are made for a reason and it is for that very reason, that I am here today.
“We have a traitor among us. A man who has broken the sacred oath you each made upon entering service of this mine. He has eaten a crystal, and already, his pitiful body begins to break down. You see, miners are not simply forbidden from eating crystals because we do not wish to share them with you. If there was any benefit it would be to our advantage to feed you all with the best crystals so that you might work harder, faster, longer.
“Unfortunately, though, your pathetic bodies are incapable of accepting the crystal’s blessing. While you may receive some benefit, it is only for the few short months until your body shuts down entirely. For you miners, eating a single crystal is enough to trigger insyncnon disorder which is 100% fatal and irreversible. Each passing day will see you less and less capable of exertion until one day you are completely unable to move, unable to work. And the resources you consumed, the crystal that could have made the difference between life and death on a battlefield—wasted.
“As if this were not bad enough, your putrid corpse will become fodder that attracts lytefeeders. Today, we will show mercy and spare this man the slow agonizing decline and allow a lytefeeder to enter him now.”
The crowd was silent.
Three-sixteen found himself wishing he could disappear.
He didn't want to do this. He wasn’t sure he could.
Magistrate Luck turned to him, and said, “Supervisor Three-sixteen, you may proceed.”
He didn’t have a choice.
He tried to believe that It wasn’t his hand uncorking the vial. That it wasn’t him who pressed the open end of the bottle to the man’s anus. He struggled to ignore the excited squirming that nearly caused him to drop the vial. He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t close his ears.
The man cried out, screaming in agony as the parasite began to eat into his flesh. warm fluid spilled down around sides of the vial, flowing over Three-sixteen’s hand. Repulsed, he yanked his hand back, dropping the vial.
Tears formed in his eyes, but he couldn’t let them fall.
It was Luck who ordered this, Luck who was responsible.
Three-sixteen stepped away, feeling like a shell of a human being. He hated himself for what he had done.