C James - Dome Six

Tosh noticed the monitor eyeing them warily from the doorway of her classroom. The last thing she needed was a bad report from him. Her sole motivation for playing it straight the past two months was so he’d go away.

“Let’s keep moving, guys,” she said.

The class reluctantly shuffled toward the cafeteria. Anything novel, like a roof repair or even a UV shield drill, held them rapt. Seeing a crawler out during the day would be the topic of every dinner conversation that night, and possibly for many days to come. Tosh snuck a final glance skyward before ducking into the cafeteria.

The next-younger cohort was just getting up to leave when they entered. The smell of fresh multimeal greeted their nostrils. The bulk of the Towers’ harvest went into making the bland, nourishing mash of fruits, vegetables, grains, and nuts. Multimeal was rationed like everything else. Whole foods, along with any kind of spice or beet sugar, could only be obtained through the Ration Rewards system. It was all tracked by the CHIT, or citizen health and information tag, embedded in their right forearms.

Tosh waited at the side of the serving line until everyone went through, then took a tray and spoon for herself. She greeted the service worker, William, who had been dishing up multimeal in the cafeteria since the day she started teaching and for some time before.

“Wet or dry?” he asked.

“Depends on my mood,” she quipped.

Sometimes he’d clap back but today he only offered a weary smirk.

“The usual,” she said.

She set her tray on the scale and watched him dish up an adult-sized scoop from the top of the pile. The gray-green mush formed a sad little mountain on her tray. When the green light indicated it was within ration parameters, she scanned her CHIT and searched the room for her girls. She technically was supposed to sit with different students every day, but she knew all their stories and they knew all of hers. Most didn’t have much to say, but Dee and Vi were different.

She slid into the bench next to Dee bearing a sly grin. She took a spoonful of multimeal and rolled her eyes back in mock ecstasy.

“Mmm mmm,” she said. “You can really taste the radish today.”

“Why are you in such a good mood?” Dee asked.

“This is the monitor’s last day,” replied Tosh, biting back a full smile.

“Good,” said Vi. “He totally stares at me.”

Anyone who spent their days at the Authority rarely saw kids at all. But Tosh noticed the way he looked at the young girls in her class. She’d seen it before, which was why she made sure he sat with her every day. He found her and sauntered their way.

“Ugh,” Vi said, shrinking away from the end of the table. “I can’t wait until he’s gone.”

She didn’t have to wait long, because no sooner had the monitor set his tray down than a body plummeted through the roof and landed directly on top of him.

The flimsy roof did little to arrest the fall of the maintenance worker, his body so broken that his yellow safety harness seemed to be the only thing holding it together. Though his foot only grazed Vi’s shoulder, the force still wrenched her violently to the ground. Tosh immediately rushed to her aid, diverting her attention from the sack of trauma next to her.

“Vi, my god!” Tosh asked, as slackjawed, buzzing students encircled the scene.

Vi shook with fright, clutching her shoulder. Dee seemed frozen in place.

“Let me see,” Tosh said.

Vi removed her hand to reveal a nasty contusion on her upper arm. It appeared superficial but she couldn’t be sure.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. Move back, everyone. Please. I know it’s exciting.”

The kids expanded their circle only slightly. Vi sniffled and took deep breaths while Tosh smoothed her hair.

The monitor’s head was wrenched back and to the side, clearly broken, though there was surprisingly little blood. The end of the table had broken clean off and the roof of the Dome winked at them through a clean hole in the roof. Tosh imagined he’d been nearly vertical when he came through, which made her wonder if he’d really fallen or if he’d dived off the crawler. Suicides in the Dome were nearly as common as accidents.

Dee’s father, Byron, was also a maintenance worker and a close friend. He said the guys who had been around a while avoided the crawlers at all costs because the safety equipment was a joke. Tosh noticed the beefy hook on the worker’s safety harness had sheared off, and probably not from the impact.

Once the children regained their wits, they were inconsolable. She couldn’t blame them. It was a pretty traumatic way for kids to learn about death. Even precocious Dee barely left her side.

Emergency responders from the Authority showed up about 10 minutes later, right about the time she and the other teachers finally calmed the students down. Luther Downing, longtime Director of Security, came in flanked by police and two medics who took in the scene with great relish. But upon seeing the bodies on the floor, the younger of the two medics covered his mouth and ran off to retch.

Downing found her right away. She hated that he knew her name, because she certainly wished she didn’t know his. He was in his late 40s, thin lips framed by a perpetual stubble of graying beard. His blue Authority uniform was new and crisp. It seemed to Tosh that the span of his shoulders had narrowed since they last crossed paths. But why was he there? Maintenance fell under Infrastructure. Downing was all about crime and punishment.

“Toshiko Yamamura,” Downing said. “Where your family goes, trouble seems to follow.”

He squinted into the diffuse afternoon light beaming down through the hole in the roof. His team fanned out behind him, seemingly unsure what they were supposed to do. The medic came tottering back wiping the sick from his mouth but remained near the door.

“Let’s get these kids out of here,” Downing said, and the other teachers led them away. He regarded the monitor’s broken body with disgust. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“He’s a classroom monitor,” Tosh said. “This was his last day.”

“I should say so,” Downing said, smirking. He noted Vi on the ground. “Anyone else hurt?”

“Just her,” Tosh said, touching her hand to Vi’s shoulder.

Downing nodded to the other medic. “Check her over.”

The medic kneeled beside Vi and examined her arm. Tosh watched from the corner of her eye while Downing took her statement about how the scene unfolded. The only real question was whether it was an accident or not. The Authority rarely ruled anything an accident, so it would probably be called a suicide.

“Did you see anything unusual beforehand?” Downing asked.

Tosh nodded. “Just that a crawler was up there in the middle of the day. I’d say he was working on one of the Exchangers when his equipment failed.”

Downing glanced over his shoulder at the body. The broken metal ring on his bright yellow safety harness protruded upward.

“Are you an expert on crawlers now?” Downing asked.

Tosh bristled. “You asked if I–“

“No!” Vi screamed.

Tosh returned to Vi’s side. The medic’s hands were held up, as though to emphasize she hadn’t done anything to hurt her. In one hand was a vial of clear liquid and a pipette. Vi recoiled from it.

“Easy, Vi. What’s wrong?” Tosh asked Vi.

“I tried to give her a pain Macro and she freaked out,” the medic said.

Macros were synthetic helminths — tiny, semiautonomous worms. Unlike parasites, they didn’t take anything from their host and didn’t overstay their welcome. By releasing targeted biochemicals, they could help with anesthesia or even medical conditions like diabetes. But they did take some getting used to.