The crackling overture of the national anthem blared through the ancient PA system and tore subject 27 from her slumber. She drowsily folded her cat-like ears, trying to muffle the noise. The last brass notes faded, and with them went the motivation to crawl out of bed. Her bunkmate, 26, rolled the shared blanket around herself, hoarding the last scraps of warmth. The betrayal left 27 exposed to the morning chill. I guess I’ll get up first.
27 crawled over 26, pinching her fluffy ear in retaliation. She flopped onto the cold linoleum floor and shuffled down the narrow aisle between the bunks toward the window. Metal bars prevented her from reaching the pane, but at least they offered a cool place to rest her head. Beyond the window, a dark stone wall hid the outside world from her view. She caught her reflection faintly painted on the glass. The ghostly picture showed her pale human face and a mane of white hair. Her golden eyes caught the faintest rays of light and glowed softly. She tried to straighten her hair, but her fingers snagged and tore a few strands. She shot the wiry muscles in her arm a cheated look. Can’t you be gentle just this once? Her long white tail lashed beneath her simple nightgown. “Control your anger, 27!” the Matron’s voice echoed through her head.
27 let out a shivering yawn before she turned back to face the room. Two creaky bunk beds crowded the space, making every movement feel cramped. With too many of them, they had to squeeze together on the lumpy mattresses. 22 got the top bunk to himself just so he stopped fighting. It definitely went to his head. I reckon it’s warmer to share a blanket anyways. “Time to get ready, kityas. Let’s hurry before the keepers come up here,” she called to the group, hoping to set a good example. The groggy ear twitches and sleepy mumbles of her groupmates brought a caring smile to her lips.
“We all heard the alarm,” 22 growled from his top bunk. His blue eyes glared down at her, dark ears drooping lazily. It’s too early to fight, 27 thought ruefully.
“If you heard the alarm, you should be getting out of bed,” 27 scolded. She opened the narrow lockers at the end of each bunk and pulled out the olive green shirt with a white “27” on the breast. She inspected the faded stains and crudely reinforced seams for any new wear. It still carried the scent of sweat from yesterday’s running. 27 brushed off a thin film of dirt and sand. I guess the cleaners didn’t do laundry again.
“The one who really needs to get out of bed is 26.” 22 turned his glare toward the girl still cocooned in her blanket. 26 remained motionless within her cotton shield, without so much as a twitch of her ears. 27 wanted to say that wasn’t fair, but even she couldn’t deny that 26 was holding the group back. A chalkboard hung from the door with “White Group Individual Scores” printed across the top. 27 wanted to wipe away the red numbers written lazily in 26’s row, but doing so wouldn’t change the truth.
“Leave her alone,” 27 snapped. She threw 22’s shirt into his face, obscuring his look of contempt. “It is time to get up, 26,” 27 said softly, laying her friend’s uniform next to her. The blanket wiggled gently in response.
“You aren’t the boss.” 22 sat up to face 27. He was the oldest and the biggest groupmate, and liked to show it.
“I’m not saying I’m the boss!” 27 retorted, frowning up at him. He’s still mad I beat his lap time, she mused. She didn’t let the fleeting thought of victory show on her face.
A rasping squeak put an end to the conflict as the metal door grate slid open. “G’morning whiskers. Supposed to be warm today, so shorts and shirts,” the voice of Sergeant Melnyk grumbled through the slat. Part drill sergeant, part parental figure, Melnyk was both the nicest and toughest adult they interacted with. He sounded like he hadn’t slept well, and they exchanged cautious glances around the room. Let’s not do anything to make him mad.
“Yes, Sir.” Six tired voices replied. 27 returned to distributing the outfits. Each shirt had an owner, but the tan shorts were shared and fit everyone loosely. 26 finally emerged from her soft white shell. Her chestnut ears drooped against her short, curly hair. A single sniff of the stale clothes caused her nose to wrinkle. For a moment, 27 thought she would crawl back under her blanket.
27 fastened the pant strap above her tail, careful not to snag any fur. She left the cracked rubber boots and camouflage ponchos that were piled at the bottom of both lockers. The oldest groups got to have nice shoes, but White Group still had to go barefoot unless it was cold or raining. Everyone bolted awake now that one of their keepers was outside waiting. Their night clothes were tossed across the room as they hastily changed into their uniforms. Maybe the cleaners will wash our clothes if it isn’t such a mess. 27 reached amongst her groupmates trying to collect the stray outfits without getting her fingers stepped on.
Sergeant Melnyk knocked on the door and asked “Are you all dressed?” If it had been a warden or researcher, they’d have just pushed the door open. 27 liked that he was nice and asked.
Each group member responded in order, “22, ready”, “23 yep” and so on as they clambered out of bed. Tails brushed legs and toes were nearly stepped on as everyone squeezed onto the narrow patch floor. 27 finished gathering the nightgowns and piled them onto her bunk before calling “27 ready, Sir.” Her effort was rewarded with 22 rolling his eyes at her, not that he ever tidied anything.
The door clicked and the line of children pressed back to let it swing open before they sprang forward into the hallway. 27 had to squint against the harsh lights glaring from the ceiling. The slap of bare feet against tile and hushed greetings were intercut with the keepers’ commanding voices. Her ears twitched defensively; they were still tuned to the night. Lines were forming up and down the hallway as every group emerged from their dorms. All the other children, or “subjects,” had ears and tails like hers.
Sergeant Melnyk leaned against the wall next to their door as they filed into the hall. He had dark hair and eyes that were kinder than the other keepers. 27 thought his unshaven face and tired demeanor made him seem older as well. She was pretty sure he was the only keeper who hadn’t been replaced since she arrived. The sergeants wore dull brown camouflage pants and jackets with heavy black boots that shook the ground like a warning. Each wore a colored band tied at the shoulder so the subjects could easily spot who to follow. Melnyk turned his drowsy gaze to White Group. “Who needs the bathroom?” he asked. All six hands shot into the air.