Something Else

They Remember

"Oh," I say out loud, mouth wide and eyes wider. How is it that after years of staying resolved, stoic in the face of pain and devastation, all I can do is stare and say oh?

The building looms before me, vast and ominous. It matches the grey plains behind it so well that I hardly even notice it at first. However, like any good optical illusion, the moment I see it I can't un-see it. My perception of reality stumbles, filling the gaps sharply and suddenly.

KF-3 is large and built like a sort of apartment complex. It's old, yes, but not run down. In fact, the building is marvelously well kept. It's a grand sort of structure, with large stone pillars and a pair of huge doors at the front.

Instead of entering through them, Via swerves right around the side of the building. Confused, I set out after her, tripping over pristine roses and polished stones on my way. We walk for a bit and I catch sight of another, smaller door.

'Servant's entrance' It reads.

I hear nothing as the door slides open, but a sudden assault of light floods my eyes. I slam them shut, and even then I'm blinded. It's as if the sun has been snatched from the sky and placed here before me. It's hardly even dusk outside. Slowly, I pry open my eyelids, and through a cloud of violent blinking, I see Via, calmly alert and staring straight.

The sun dims into a flame, and that flame is quickly extinguished. Startled but not pained, I walk into the room before me. My heart stops as I look around and one thought courses through my mind.

I can't even say 'oh' now.

This place looked large from the outside, but that too was misleading. The actual interior is so much bigger than even I had thought. It's grand too, with white marble from ceiling to floor. Most buildings in Euphoria are like this, bindingly pristine and piercingly white. First the correctional facility, and now this strange bright place.

Every ten feet or so, a small table sits facing the opposite wall. They're so exact, arranged with such precision that I can't imagine how long it must have taken. At each of the eighty or so desks, a white-robed Levorian sits. They all seem old and stare straight ahead, so still that I wonder if they're real at all. Throughout the crowd, Levorians in scrubs like ours glide effortlessly with plates of food. They walk in an almost robotic fashion, each step quick and silent.

Too silent.

Now that I think of it. There's no sound in the room at all, not a squeak, not a scratch. It's not a natural sort of silence but a rehearsed one, a silence practiced and perfected. Each "nurse" wears headphones just like ours, and none of them interact. They walk in perfectly straight lines, their eyes locked on the floor in front of them.

"They can't speak to each other," Via clarifies. Her voice floods my ears and I almost jump. "The headphones are completely soundproof, and the nurses have a strict routine to follow. Right now it must be time to eat. Follow me."

We stand right next to the door, in a place easily visible. It feels dangerous, compromising, but no one looks up. A nurse with a plate of eggs walks by, not three feet from Via, yet it's as if she's invisible to him. He continues in mechanical synchronization with the other workers, placing his plate of food in front of a balding man at a desk. The man waits for a moment, then scarfs down the meal like it's his last.

Without plates, Via and I set out onto the floor. I feel naked and out of place, but again, nobody seems to notice. We follow the same path, Via's movements an exact replica of everyone else's, and mine, well... not so much.

"Stay calm, stay uniform. We're crossing the room now. We'll enter another zone soon and hopefully, we can relax a bit."

I have no idea what she means by this but I try and do as she says. At one point I slow down too much and bump a nurse behind me. I whip around to make sure she's alright, and the look of intense petrification she gives me is almost too much. We lock eyes and her lips part for just a moment. It's like she's looking at a ghost.