Yes, Lucy had slept, but only after she had a chance to talk to her dad.
Hours after he left for work per Huck’s bidding, her father reappeared, shedding his lab coat, kissing Maxine, and absorbing hugs from the twins. He proclaimed he was off to bed, but Lucy quizzed him on the System; she stood between him and his bedroom door, unwavering and unwilling to budge.
She learned that the underground housing was powered by solar energy. Had she and Grant ventured up over a grassy hill to the North of Brixton, they would have seen the expansive solar troughs harnessing high concentrations of power and funneling them to their new home. The EUS, as her dad called it, was a dome shape, with ten floors, and on floors one through eight there were 10 pods. The pods held clusters of 5 apartments each. In the center of each floor there were various rooms: a greenhouse for growing vegetables, the medical center Lucy was taken to, a rec center.
Lucy couldn’t conceptualize where the tanks were located. She supposed, as much as she hated to admit it, that her father could be misleading her on the size and scope of the System. She tried to remember the path to the tanks after she was pulled out of the elevator, but everything was a hazy blur—her already distant memory, slipping away before she could grasp it.
It wasn’t too long before she could tell her father grew restless of her questions. He retreated to his simple bedroom, but only after embracing Lucy wordlessly and holding her close to his chest. She could feel his steady heartbeat through his shirt. A consistent and comforting
thud-thud thud-thud
. “I’m proud of your bravery, Lucy,” he said. And she initiated the end of the hug, pulling away, and curling up onto the uncomfortable beige couch in the corner of the open room.
She wished that everyone understood that she was not the same. The weeks had changed her. How had everyone else arrived at the System unscathed?
The world was dead. Her friends were dead. She was living underground.
But now: brunch with her mom in a sundress just her size.
The dichotomy was dizzying.
Lucy held the dress in her grasp and opened the door to her room. She stood in the middle of the open area, shifting between one leg and then the other. Monroe and Malcolm were playing a board game; moving tiny plastic pieces around some map of the United States. Harper watched them from the couch, sucking away, her index finger curled up over her nose.
“Shower?” Lucy asked and Harper pointed with her free hand to a door next to their tiny kitchenette. She walked across the room and slid into the bathroom, which had a toilet and a tile shower. Shedding her clothes, Lucy stepped onto the tile and turned the shower dial; a low-pressure stream of water trickled from the showerhead. It was lukewarm. Lucy loved her showers hot, scalding—no amount of heat was enough. The tepid water annoyed her and she spun the dial hoping for more, but the water didn’t change temperature. Then Lucy noticed the countdown. Right above the faucet a digital clock ran backward from five minutes. Ticking away.
Working fast, Lucy lathered up what she hoped was shampoo and then rinsed; she watched the suds slip down the metal drain in the middle of the floor. She had enough time to run some of the same soap over her body before the counter reached zero and the shower clicked off, leaving Lucy standing naked and shivering.
She took a towel and wrapped it around her body and then she walked over to the mirror. It wasn’t even steamy. Lucy looked at herself, leaning in and peering at her bare skin, yellow under the light. It seemed already that her cheeks had lost some of their youthful roundness. Her face appeared pallid and gaunt.
She tucked her wet hair behind her ears and sighed.
The Sky Room was a restaurant located on the tenth floor. When they walked through the double doors and into the room, Lucy gasped. The top of the dome was painted as a replica of the sky—just like the ceiling of the Venetian hotel in Las Vegas that Lucy had seen in pictures; artificial light simulated sunlight and from small speakers on the walls, Lucy heard the distinct chirp of birds and a subtle whooshing of wind. Funnel people underground, but give them a fancy restaurant with all the amenities of the outside world? It was all so strange and surreal.
Maxine stayed closed to her daughter, and she had donned a slimming black dress and a pair of heels. Lucy watched as her mother walked up to a podium and told a young man standing there that the King party had arrived.
“Mom?” Lucy asked as the young man then grabbed two paper menus and walked them through a maze of bistro tables where people from the System ate off of mismatched china. “This is weird.”
With an apologetic look around at the people at the other tables, Maxine flashed Lucy a cautionary smile and then motioned for Lucy to sit. The young man handed Lucy a menu and helped her push in her chair. Lucy set the menu aside and took in the room—nicely dressed people, eating in hushed voices.
“Seriously, Mom. I’m gonna freak out,” Lucy continued and set her elbows on the table and looked around. People glanced up to make eye contact with Lucy and smile. Everyone appeared friendly but immersed in his or her own little world.
“Simmer down,” Maxine replied and she took a cloth napkin and placed it in her lap. “I’m not asking you to accept any of this…but I do want to have a nice brunch with my daughter. This place is supposed to be a treat. Can’t I treat you? Isn’t that allowed? When was the last time you had a hot meal? When was the last time we had a date, huh?”
Mother-daughter dates used to be a real thing in the King home. With six children, someone was always feeling neglected, so they became a way to connect one-on-one. The dates went up on the family calendar and nothing, no work emergencies or kid emergencies, ever derailed them. The child was able to choose the outing and it was special and fun. Lucy remembered back on her time alone with her mom with fondness and nostalgia.
“That’s not exactly my point,” Lucy complained. Her mother glanced around at the other tables and then motioned for Lucy to keep her voice down. Rolling her eyes, Lucy continued. “You can’t honestly tell me that this whole thing isn’t…bizarre.”
“It is,” Maxine said curtly. She scratched her cheek and took a breath. “So, what now? You want to leave?”
“Is that an option?”
Her mother dipped her head and leaned closer. “To leave the Sky Room or to leave the System?”
“Both, I guess. And listen to yourself. The Sky Room, Mom. The System? Like, this place has a name…like we’re on an
outing
…I just…why is everyone acting so
normal
?”
A different young man approached the table and they pulled apart, returning upright. Lucy blushed.
“Good morning, Mrs. King,” he said addressing her mom by name. “Drinks for you two?”
“Coffee, please,” Maxine requested.
“A mimosa,” Lucy said. “No, just, straight gin. Right. That’s a thing, right?”
Maxine raised her eyebrows and didn’t take her eyes off her daughter. “She’ll have an orange juice.”
“They don’t serve alcohol in the
System
?”
“We do—” The young man looked confused, he glanced at Maxine and then Lucy with an embarrassed smile, as if he were worried that he wasn’t in on some joke.
“I’ll have coffee too,” Lucy said after a second to spare the waiter, and the boy nodded and walked quickly away.
Maxine tapped her long fingers on the table.
Rat-a-tat-tat
and then a repeat
rat-a-tat-tat
, never looking away from Lucy, her brows knit with assessment and concern. Lucy stared back. Maybe before the Release she would have cowered, but something about losing Grant the moment she stepped foot in the underground system, combined with her family’s robotic acceptance, made her feel emboldened. She knew her mother wouldn’t expect it; that she’d play all her cards and expect Lucy to toe the line.
It was Maxine who broke the silence first. And as she started to speak, Lucy realized quickly it wasn’t what she expected.
“I hate this place,” her mother said, not bothering to lower her voice or lean in closer. “You’re absolutely right. All your instincts. You’re right.”
Lucy froze. Then she looked confused. “Do they pipe gaseous truth serum into the air ducts here?”
Maxine didn’t budge. Then she ran her hand through her short bob and folded her hands neatly on the table.
“I didn’t bring you up here to play a game, Lucy Larkspur. I brought you up here because I missed my daughter. God dammit, I have been,” her mother paused, her voice breaking, her chin quivering and Lucy struggled to keep all her own emotions in check, “a disaster. I thought they would have to commit me. It was my fault…”
“No,” Lucy shook her head with sudden sympathy.
“I sent you out of the house that morning. I lost you and Ethan. Still, right now, I can’t forgive myself.”
“But Dad—” Lucy tried to form the argument faster than her mother could shoot it down, but she was too slow. Maxine was armed and ready.
“Sure, I was mad at him too. He lied to me. For
years
.”
The waiter slid between two tables and set down two steaming coffees in front of them. Then he disappeared again. Maxine cupped her hands around the mug, just like she used to do at home, letting the warmth seep into her fingers. Bending down to blow across the top of the liquid, Lucy tried to take a sip, but the coffee was still too hot. She pushed the cup away and waited.
“He lied to you about everything.”
“Not exactly.”
With a shuddering breath, Lucy closed her eyes. She did not want to hear that her mother knew about the attacks—even in a roundabout way. If her mother had an inkling of what the future would bring, Lucy couldn’t handle it. Imagining her mother as the naïve housewife impervious to the truth wasn’t a better alternative. Neither meshed with what she knew of Mama Maxine. Rewriting her father into his new role was bad enough: Lucy couldn’t fathom not having anything remain the same.
“I won’t try to dumb it down for you, Lucy. Okay? Your dad told me that he was working on something top secret. That even telling me that little bit put my life in danger. He said that he sold his soul to save his family, and that I had two choices. Trust him implicitly and live. Or try to go out on my own, with no guarantee of safety.”
“Some choices.”
“Exactly.”
“You never even let on that something bad was happening.”
Maxine shrugged. “I didn’t know a damn thing. I thought your dad was being hyperbolic or paranoid.”
“You were wrong,” Lucy said with bite, but her mother ignored it.
“It’s been known to happen.”
The waiter reappeared without warning and slid a basket of croissants between them. Lucy’s mouth began to salivate at the sight of the bread and she reached out and grabbed one, shoving the warm pieces of flaky dough into her mouth. She noticed he had also brought butter and Lucy’s eyes widened. She dipped a piece in butter and swallowed it down with minimal chewing. She went back for another.
“Are you ready to order?” the boy asked.
Lucy, her mouth full, turned to the boy and stared at him. She was suddenly full of questions.
“Who are you?” she asked him. And when the boy didn’t answer, Lucy set the rest of her croissant down and turned her body to face him. He shifted away, his eyes scanning the other tables, perhaps hoping for some reprieve. “Where did you come from?”
Maxine put her hand across the table and tapped twice, but Lucy ignored her mother’s not-so-subtle plea.
“Floor D?” the boy answered. “Did you know what you want to eat?”
“Are you a waiter robot?” she asked. “Another one of my dad’s science experiments? Did they breed you in this dome?”
“Excuse me?” his voice shook a bit.
She slid forward in her chair. “I mean, I asked where you came from and you said floor six…and you just want to serve me food. But what about
before
? West Coast? East Coast? Is your whole family here in this place? Where were you the day of the virus and the bombs?”
“Lucy—” Maxine’s voice was full of warning.
“I just want to know. Because I can’t stop thinking about it and why is everyone else acting like the world hasn’t ended?”
“Lucy. Larkspur. King. You are embarrassing yourself.”
“Should I come back?” the boy asked Maxine and she nodded and was off like a shot, shoving his tablet into his apron and walking toward double-doors that led to what Lucy presumed was the kitchen.
“You want me to play nice, but I don’t even know what’s going on, Mom. You want me to be happy that I’m here, but I don’t know what here is! Who are these people?”
“Survivors.”
“This place comes with its own waiters?”
“They are here just like you and me.”
“Do they know
Dad
killed their families?” Lucy hissed.
Maxine stood up and smoothed out her dress. Then she walked calmly over to Lucy and leaned close. She was so close that Lucy could feel her hot breath like a punctuation mark against her face. “As your mother, who loves you and lost her mind waiting for your return, I am begging you to shut up. Shut up. Please, please,” Maxine was near tears, her eyes pleading. “We are here for a brunch. I had to make some trades and deals to get us in the Sky Room today…because I needed it to be special. I want something to be special for you. Do not make a scene. Please, listen, do not do this.” Lucy had seen her mother angry, worried, frustrated, and irate. She had followed her mother’s moods like star signs in a book. But if there was one emotion Maxine banished from her life it was panic. And yet, behind her eyes, just below the surface of calm, cool, and collected, there was an undercurrent of that banished emotion.
“What happens here?” Lucy asked in a whisper. She looked at her mother’s skin, soft and creamy without a stitch of makeup; then she looked down at the green tiled floor. “Why are you afraid?”
“I will not lose you again,” Maxine said softly and she tried to place her hand on Lucy’s shoulder, but she shied away.