Scattered From the Ground

She lifted her hand to her mouth as the news shone onto her face. It wasn’t the first she’d heard of what was happening, but it was the first time she had gotten a confirmation of it. The time to act was now, and she couldn’t wait to share the news with her community.

She found a nook in the library, and projected herself into the audio and video feeds of her city to share what she had learned.

“Everyone,” she began, her shining voice hinting at something urgent, “it’s been confirmed to me through my feed that it’s more than a rumor--it’s going to happen! We are, for certain, being taken up to the mainland!” She paused for a second, anticipating there would be some chatter. “Just to remind you, the first step is safety. So, please let the smallest of our citizens onto the vessels, first, then the next biggest, and so forth. Okay? We all know the drill, it’s nothing new, let’s get everything ready, check your personal checklists. Okay? Let’s do this, and I’ll see you all up there, tonight! I’m so excited!” She turned off the projection and gathered everything in short stacks in her hands.

She got in her car, and it seemed by the time she got the engine turned over she was already at the transport.

This was where it was going to be hard, just because the anticipation muddled with all the checklists in her head were fighting arm over arm for her immediate attention, and it was going to take at least an hour to go through the security and boarding checkpoints.

As she approached the first station, she brought out her identification card, her travelling license, and her payment card. All were quickly taken from her hand as she fumbled with everything else. The crowd was pressing gently forward, like a cargo ship slowly pulling out of port. All of her cards were placed back in her hand, and forward she moved.

The second station was a security station, and she assumed it wouldn’t take long. An officer with a blue shirt ran his hands over her entire torso, while an officer with a brown shirt checked for feedback from the monitor. The blue shirt looked at the white shirt for a signal. When he got it, he went over every area under her belt-line, hip to toe. When the brown shirt gave the signal, she was waved through to the last station.

This station was a sort of confirmation of the first two. She gave the cards to the nearest official, then proceeded to walk into the middle of a small circle. While each of her cards were being verified, in detail, she was being covered entirely by a white tube, because completely naked, underneath. This process took only a couple of minutes. She was no threat. Fully dressed, and with cards in hand, she stepped onto the platform, into the vessel, and off they went.

It never occurred to her, or others, to look out the windows at the transport they just left, because that would require them to lean over, turn their necks completely around, and push their faces against the glass. What they would see, if they did, is a flowing sheet of the falling bodies of hopefuls. The system let most people through, but not everyone let through was led to a vessel, and, instead, was left to fall from the platform.

She took out a tab of paper, and, with a flick of her hand, laid it in front of her as a floating touchscreen. She pulled up the lists of each region of her community and started to pore over all of the names of the citizens who had reported themselves as being ready.

By the time she reached the area, nearly every list was complete. This lifted a weight off her heart, but the dark heat of anxiety was still lilting in her mind. The craft landed, she flipped the screen back, and held tightly to all else in her hands as she walked off the landing platform.

She was the only person who got off at this stop. As she walked through the corridor, she noted the initial checkpoint was inactive. So was the next. And the next. She saw why as she looked down: the entire staff of the transport was lying on the ground. No blood, though. That’s a good sign, she thought. There was a peculiar smell, though. And, while there was no visible mist, there was the slightest sense of a haze in the air as she stepped out onto the road.

She was met, immediately, by her assistant. Panting, he started reporting all of the districts which had trouble getting ready for the ascension to the mainland. However, he reported, all issues had been efficiently resolved, and they were the last two citizens to go.

“Oh, that’s great. This is great!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t this exciting?”

“It’s very exciting,” he said. He didn’t seem excited, but he explained it was because he was so winded from running around for the past hour or so. “Here,” he gave her a thin strip of plastic with a number on it.

“Thanks. Okay,” she took a look around, and noticed there were a few more bodies lying on the ground. “You’re sure everyone made it?”

“Yeah, don’t worry so much. You ready to go?”

She took a look at a couple lying on the ground long enough to to cast a fishing-line. “I’m ready.” They both took their strips and held up their arms, looking at the underside of their wrists.

“See you there,” she said. He didn’t respond, but took a deep breath and smiled.

They dotted the numbers onto their wrists. They looked at each other, and, with an anticipation marked by short breaths, tapped one final tap.

Suddenly, their bodies became empty and expressionless, and the sense of a mist scattered away from the ground.