Solstice by Jane Redd

through the dank underground corridors of my new prison. Each time I nearly catch up to him, he spins away, running even faster. I finally give up and sit down in the middle of the hallway. A hand reaches out to me and pulls me to my feet. Sol is now Rueben, and he’s laughing. And that’s when I realize I’m crying.
    I awoke—the lights hadn’t come on in the room, and the girls were still asleep. Rueben was gone. I sat up, shivering, and discovered that my cheeks were wet and my covers thrown to the floor. I picked up my blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders. Curling back onto the mattress, I wondered if my dream had been recorded and who would be analyzing it. My head ached, a dull throb, making the dream of Sol/Rueben fade quickly from memory.
    I waited in the quiet, not moving, filled with anticipation about my “assignment.” I realized that although I had escaped examination by the recruiters, I had probably landed myself somewhere much worse.
    The door slid open and Dr. Matthews entered with three other people. They looked familiar and I thought I might have seen them in the cafeteria, but I couldn’t be sure. Dr. Matthews’s forehead was creased as he stopped next to my bed and frowned. “What time did you wake up?”
    I had no way to know the time, but with all the eyes staring at me, I attempted a guess. “An hour ago.”
    Matthews typed something on his tablet, his frown apparently a standard when he was around me. His hands weren’t trembling now.
    “The sleeping powder doesn’t work, either,” one of the others said. I looked up, but missed who had spoken.
    There was no change in Matthews’s expression. “Come with us,” he said. The others watched as I climbed off the bed, no doubt an ungainly sight. I needed a shower and a change of clothing, but it seemed that wasn’t on the agenda.
    We traveled the winding corridors for a few minutes before entering a large room with a bank of screens lining one wall, all displaying diagrams of different parts of the brain.
    Dr. Matthews was still frowning as he hooked me up, yet again, to more machines. Another series of words. Another series of images. Heat crept along the back of my neck as the others scrutinized me this time, studying me and tapping notes on their tablets. What were they expecting? What were they looking for?
    Despite their scrutiny, I focused on the test, determined to score high and earn my way out of this place as quickly as possible.

* * *
    Back in the cafeteria for dinner, I noticed how everyone dressed the same, how everyone seemed to have the same expressions. Reconciled to their fates. The only person who appeared to be alive and thinking was Rueben, and it was hard to ignore the warmth of his eyes as they briefly met mine. He must be immune to the Harmony implant, I thought. There was no other explanation for it. Or was he just pretending to have these emotions in order to get me to trust him? Was he an Informer?
    I lingered over the meal of meat and carrot pie. I was starving, but I forced myself to eat slowly so that I could be the last one in the room and alone with Matthews and Rueben.
    “When do I receive my assignment?” I asked Matthews when Rueben was within earshot. He slowed his motions in clearing the table.
    “You need more testing tomorrow,” Matthews said. “For now you’ll return to the dormitory.”
    “What did my dreams tell you?” I pressed on. All I remembered was that they were about Sol, but little else.
    His frown deepened, and he said nothing. After a few minutes of silence, I picked up my plate and stood, my face feeling hot.
    “No,” Matthews said, finally speaking. “Rueben clears the plates.”
    I handed my plate to Rueben, but felt awkward; I was perfectly capable of clearing my own place.
    “Can you point me in the direction of the dormitory?” I asked Rueben.
    He opened his mouth, but Matthews spoke first. “You will not attempt to clear your plate again.”
    “I apologize.”