The room was cold. Paul could see his breath billow out and fade away. He hadn’t been so close to the surface since the evacuation. With the sun dimming the surface was a cold inhospitable expanse. He couldn’t tell how close to the surface he actually was but the chill in the air along with the level of security in the halls told him he was closer than he would have liked.
He was in a sparse room. The walls were bare and Paul sat at one of the two simple metal chairs that were on either side of a metal table. There was nothing else in the room but the intermittent cloud of Paul’s breath. He sat quietly and wondered why he had been sent for. It had been nearly an hour, in Paul’s best guess, since he had been at his post in the filtration plant. He felt his bracelet buzz and went to the guard station. They directed him to the elevator and he was ushered into the room. Paul hoped his time was being counted but doubted it. Everyone had to take a rotating shift at the plants that provided the refugees with water, food, and air. Paul was debating asking someone if this counted towards his time when the door opened to a man dressed in a military uniform. Continue reading