Beyond the doors they found chaos. There were people jostling for seats, people running, actually running with their food to get a place at the tables. It was true, there were more people in here than usual, but what was the hurry? Zack looked over at the serving hatch to see mineral-enriched porridge being heaped onto a tray, and he turned to Leonard and said, “Well, the rush isn’t about the food, that’s for sure.”
They got in line and more people filtered in behind them. They reached the serving hatch and as Leonard handed over his tray, Zack asked the server, “What did you put in the food tonight? Everyone has gone crazy.” The server handed the tray back to Leonard and held out her hand for Zack’s. She was a small woman, pretty face, or perhaps might have had at some point. She had bright blue eyes that always seemed to shine, and Zack often found that he looked forward to seeing her because she looked so alive, even when she didn’t smile. Which was every day.
“You haven’t heard, have you?” she said, as she dolloped a lump of porridge into his tray. Zack looked to Leonard who was already staring back at him, both of them wondering what they had missed. Zack took the tray and the steam from the porridge wafted up and caressed his chin. Maybe this was why he liked the server. It was one of the few times he felt the comfort of warmth.
“Heard what?” they both asked in unison.
“They announced the lottery. It’s starting any time now.”
They found an empty couple of seats next to each other, the best they could find with a view to at least two televisions. They had only just sat down as the music cut in, a mix of trumpets and electronic piano like a fanfare mixed with 1980s electric pop.
Tonight, began the voice over. The Republic of New Omega is bringing you your lottery, live from Omega Tower. The lottery of the people is coming to your tower. Tonight, somebody will leave their old life behind and join us to begin a new life here in Omega Tower. Tonight, somebody will be sleeping in a new bed, wearing new clothes. Tonight, it might be your world that is set to change. One of you becomes the future. You become your neighbour’s future. Tonight one of you becomes The New Omega Lottery Winner.
This same spiel was playing every third advert, which meant it was getting close. Every time it started it brought the hungry crowd to its knees. The silence would descend, catch every breath and pull all eyes to the screen as the same enthusiastic voice repeated the same words.
One hundred and twenty credits for a blood transfusion. Thirty credits for scabies treatment. The crowd went quiet and the ecstatic voice played again. Next, fifty credits for a dental check. Regulation clothing for all towers coming soon. A great time to peddle lies. Tonight you become your neighbour’s future……
Zack had to zone out. He couldn’t take the crescendo. The butterflies were fluttering around his chest, dipping and diving into his stomach so that the porridge couldn’t settle. Leonard was scratching himself, concentrating on his armpits. He had definitely caught scabies. Zack’s head began itching and he hoped that it was just psychosomatic. He turned to see that Leonard had already finished his porridge and was eating his cracker bread like popcorn, one arm wrapped around the tray, the other mindlessly shovelling shards of cracker past his badly fitting false teeth, occasionally stopping to wriggle them back into place when chewing was troubled. There was a gnawing in Zack’s stomach that might or might not have been hunger related, but there was no hope of him getting another mouthful of porridge down. He pushed his tray aside. Leonard turned to look at him, temporarily distracted by the insanity of wasting food.
“Take it,” Zack said, and without a second thought Leonard pulled the plate towards him and finished it off in four gigantic mouthfuls. Leonard held up the small water ration out of courtesy to enquire if Zack wanted it or not. Zack waved his hand to surrender it and Leonard knocked it back like a Russian would vodka. Zack could see that Leonard kept checking his wrist, rubbing at the number with his left hand, clearing any debris or dust that might somehow impair his chances. Zack was sure that his number was worthless, nothing more than an out of date ticket. He guessed that sometimes in ignorance, hope could live on as brightly as a rainbow after the early spring rains.
There were people still filing in, some just realising that the lottery was starting. The queue for food had become madness because even the servers were distracted. Zack turned around in time to see somebody land a fist in the cheek of another citizen. It took only a second for two Guardians to step in, and with the help of their Assisters they brought the situation under control for the benefit of all citizens. The Second Creed. All citizens of New Omega have the right to live safely without fear or threat. Threats from the Guardians didn’t count.
“That’s his chances shot,” said Leonard as both he and Zack turned away just as the Guardians dragged away the assailant. Zack wondered if he could really be held responsible for his crime. Surely the crime was attributable to Omega. For a moment he felt the hatred rise up and push the butterflies of excitement aside as he remembered how much he despised Omega for being everything he craved and everything he didn’t have. But being on their team was better than being their opponent, and the hopes soon resurfaced along with the same tingling in his fingers as his heart started to gallop.
The television screens went black as the final advert was cut short. There was no time left. Within minutes there would be another New Omega Lottery Winner. Zack tucked his hands into his lap, pushing up his right sleeve with the stained thumb of his left hand. Eight. Six. Five. Two.
In the final moments before the programme began he imagined the smell of ice cream as it melted on a summer’s day, the sensation of grass crumpled beneath the bare sole of his foot. The warmth of a bed, the embrace of a partner, of Samantha, and of the child that they should have been raising. He would have done it. He wouldn’t have failed her. He would have put things right, right? In the vision of his mind he saw his son, somewhere between six and ten years old blowing out the candles on an oversized birthday cake. There were presents at his feet and Samantha was crying happy tears with her forehead nuzzled into his jaw line, her lips kissing him and whispering thank you for a wonderful life.
Just before he heard the music begin, he allowed himself to dream that he deserved another chance.
Chapter Eleven
Hello and good evening to each and every one of you out there. We are only moments away from revealing the lucky winner of tonight’s New Omega Lottery. Tonight, one of you will trade your life and become the future of our world. Tonight, you will be sleeping in Omega. Yes, that’s right people, tonight it could be you!
The crowds of Omega citizens sat in organised rows watching Daley Cartwell. He was wearing a green suit, his hair shinier than a black diamond. His smile was wider and whiter than a Himalayan crevasse. There were no Guardians that Zack could see, although it could be hard to spot them because everybody was wearing white. Only the children were wearing colour, the bright dresses and shirts interwoven through the crowds like a ribbon in a braid of hair. An audience waiting to see the latest recruit. Each time Daley Cartwell stopped talking, they began applauding. Rows and rows of clean white uniforms, freshly laundered and pressed, like the smell of grass after rain.
We have been preparing all week and the whole community is waiting to welcome you. The machine is ready. The numbers are ready. Your room is ready. We, your fellow citizens, are ready.
Daley Cartwell cast his eyes down, the microphone pressed against his chin underneath his lip.