27’s feet moved with the marching line from the dormitory. She usually counted the 300 or so steps to reach the administration building, but today she couldn’t focus. She found herself watching the last pink of sunrise fade into the vast blue sky.
She spotted several glinting specks high in the sky and squinted to make them out. They were airplanes, drifting across the sky like clouds. She knew from their lectures that they were traveling at several hundred kilometers per hour. Do they get to fly wherever they want, like the birds in the courtyard? Or are they being told where to go and what to do? 27 wondered what the world looked like from up there, beyond the brick walls. She heard the rumble of a train somewhere beyond and could smell the sulfur from the factories. They tell us we are going to save this nation. I would like to see it before we do.
The angular edges of the administration building obscured the planes from her sight. Concrete walls and dark windows stared down at her. Occasionally, a shadowy movement behind the glass would catch her eye. Fluttering from the roof were two gold and red Pyravian flags, the only breath of color. A small, raised landing half circled the front entrance with wide steps radiating outward. 27 took her position in line with the rest of her group at the base of these steps.
Stop slouching. 27 straightened up reflexively. Matron Morozova was standing at the top of the stairs, her dark gray eyes scanning the subjects. 27 realized Morozova hadn’t spoken at all. Years of scolding meant she no longer had to.
A round, graying man stepped next to Morozova. He was a full head shorter than the Matron, but still towered over the subjects. His bushy moustache framed a smile that never left his face. 27 hated that smile. Major Kuznetsov clapped his hands loudly above his head, causing 27’s ears to twitch, but her eyes remained fixed on him.
“Hail Pyravia!” Major Kuznetsov’s bellowing voice echoed around the courtyard.
“Hail Pyravia,” the subjects’ response was disappointingly jumbled.
The Major’s moustache twitched, a shadow forming over his usual smile. 27 took a deep breath along with her groupmates. “Let’s try that again. Hail Pyravia!” he roared.
27’s shout joined others as she pushed past her fatigue, searching for the energy to carry through the day. Her voice rose above the rest, making her feel bigger, her tail curling enthusiastically. The back and forth with the Major was an unspoken ritual, and she felt a little more alert every time they finished.
She glanced at Morozova as their young voices echoed around the courtyard. Instead of her usual detached observation of the daily shouting match, the Matron’s lip curled with annoyance. Did she just roll her eyes? Has she ever done that before? 27 couldn’t look away and only realized the Major was talking again when he gestured towards the Matron.
Matron Morozova spoke in a quiet, calculated voice. “Our efficiency director has identified new areas for improvement. Cleaning staff have been streamlined. Custodial officers are expected to make a schedule for their groups to perform uniform and room maintenance no more than three times a week.”
27 picked at her stale uniform. That explains why they haven’t been washed.
The Matron continued, “Dishware and eating utensils are also the responsibility of the custodial officer. You may choose to have the subjects perform this task or you may do it yourself. All cleaning duties must be performed during their scheduled free periods.” 27’s fingers tightened into fists, wrinkling her uniform. Around her she heard quiet gasps from her groupmates. Melnyk’s expression remained rigid. During our free periods? We barely get any free time as it is.
Morozova waited until the gathering fell silent. “There was a review of the kitchen as well. New recipe cards have been created. Groups will continue to be ranked based on meeting daily goals.”
22 ground his foot into the grass nearby. 27 felt like stomping too, but maybe new recipes could be good?
The Matron’s gaze swept down the line. “Bonus cards will be reserved for outstanding performers only. Deferral cards will be guaranteed to the lowest five groups. Some groups may receive more than one.”
27’s heart beat fast and cold. Guaranteed to the lowest five, when’s the last time we scored higher than that?
Beside her, 22 couldn’t contain himself. “We’re never gonna get to eat anything nice ag-” A sharp crack to the back of his head from Melnyk cut the complaint short. The scene repeated along the line of subjects and it took a moment for order to be restored.
Morozova tightened her lips for a moment before regaining her composure. “It is your duty to ensure the proper amount of calories are being distributed. If you have questions ask me or Doctor Petrescu.” 27 looked at Melnyk, trying to read him from the side. The sergeant maintained his practiced attention, not offering any clues to how he felt about this change.27 realized she was shaking and tried to slowly release her fists. Beside her, 26 rubbed her arms nervously. Why is the Matron just standing there? Morozova finally turned on her heel and walked towards the entrance, leaving the congregation in a confused silence. Major Kuznetsov took her place. “Give it your all, little paws, and maybe you can earn a nice bonus card for your next meal. Dismissed.”