TCWGRF 5

The dawn, still stained here and there with darkness. As soon as the first siren announcing the lifting of the curfew rang out, a young man who had hidden his tousled hair inside a hat hurried outside.

The place he headed for was not the food distribution center, but the gateway from District 28 to District 12. Despite the early hour, the area in front of it was bustling with people who were willing to forgo breakfast to move quickly.

Isaac, after checking to make sure he had not forgotten anything between the receipt that would confirm his application for the patrol unit and the documents proving his identity, took a few deep breaths and then carefully joined the line.

It was his first time moving to another district since entering the city, so he was extremely nervous. It was probably no different for the people lined up in front of the gateway.

Their flushed cheeks, like a child’s, their heads that kept turning left and right to survey their surroundings, and their limbs that could hardly stay still revealed an excitement they could not hide.

Going to a district with a lower number than the one they lived in, and on top of that, going all the way to the city center, was a rare event, something one might experience once in a lifetime, if at all. For them, it was an immense opportunity and an extraordinary occurrence.

The officers in charge of the gateway gave a grim warning, “The moment you step out of line, it will be considered an act of disobedience,” and then, sorting out only the citizens whose identification documents were fully prepared, led them in order.

Even without the need for intimidation, as soon as the officers armed with bayonets appeared, everyone sealed their lips shut and concealed emotions unbecoming of the gray, such as anticipation or excitement, within the order of the line.

Thud, thud. The citizens of District 28, walking at a regular interval, resembled soldiers marching to commemorate a triumphant return.

Was it because of the hope that they could turn their situations around, even though they were only going to an interview for the patrol unit? Their chests swelled, and their shoulders straightened. Their heads, which were usually buried between their shoulder blades, were for once held high, looking straight ahead.

To get from District 28 to the city center, one had to pass through three major gateways.

From District 28 to District 12, from District 12 to District 4, and from District 4 to the city center, they were inspected by fully armed officers in front of a massive gateway each time.

Even though they had already undergone a detailed verification process at the first gateway, individuals who were randomly singled out with calls of “you,” “you there,” “hey,” and “you” were dragged to the guard post, only to return with small cuts on their faces and silently rush to the very end of the procession.

Fortunately, Isaac was never singled out, but the increasingly ironclad and severe atmosphere made it difficult to breathe, so he secretly shuddered his shoulders and repeatedly inhaled and exhaled deeply.

Whether he did or not, the people in the front row, who happened to be the lucky ones, were too busy admiring the changing scenery of the city each time they passed through a gateway. Afraid of being faulted for staring openly, they darted their eyes around busily, stealing glances.

The cement buildings with haphazardly painted outer walls became neat gray brick buildings, and the always-mushy dirt ground turned into smooth gravel paths and sleek roads. These were things that one could never see in District 28, not even in their wildest dreams.

“Oh my!”

“Ack!”

“What’s going on?”

Even while their gazes were restlessly scanning the unfamiliar world, the orderly procession of applicants came to a halt due to the people who had suddenly stopped at the front. Thump, thump. Foreheads and the backs of heads, shoulders and chins collided with one another, and the neatness that had been maintained until then collapsed.

“……!”

“Ah…”

They had finally reached the gateway from District 4 to the city center. With the Public Security Bureau close by, they should have been on their most exemplary behavior.

A few applicants in the back rows raised their index fingers and opened their mouths to hurl insults at those who had caused the incident, but soon they too, like those at the front, were unable to close their mouths, staring ahead and letting out only faint gasps.

‘Good heavens…’

Street trees, rounded and smoothly trimmed, adorned the streets in an orderly fashion, flowerbeds planted with colorful flowers, tall buildings that were easily five stories high, cool and large windows and terraces where one could cultivate their own flowers, and people who strolled and chatted freely on the streets without forming ranks or standing in line.

Even Isaac, who had been certain that he would not like a single thing about the city, had to admit this.

That the ‘city’ people on the outside dreamed of so desperately was right here. That what Asel had said was not entirely wrong.

Not the uniformity for the convenience of the rulers, but the beauty and abundance, refined to the extreme for those who actually lived there, were all here.

The grayness that had oppressed all sides in District 28, District 12, and even District 4 was, here, just one of the backgrounds that filled the space with diversity.

The savory smell of oil emanated from restaurants with wide-open doors, and people dressed stylishly in coats, jackets, and dresses that showed off their individual personalities sat outdoors, eating bright yellow omelets made with fresh eggs, and brown toast soaked in butter and honey.

The faces of the city center citizens wore smiles that were not permitted in other districts. They laughed out loud, and their laughter was not stained with the fragments of hardship that crushed reality, creating the illusion of being in a world of dreams or fantasy.

From the street speakers, which he had thought only broadcasted the siren announcing the lifting of the curfew, a kind announcement continuously played: ‘Citizens from other districts have come for the patrol unit interview, so please do not be alarmed. If you experience any unpleasant incidents, please ask an officer for assistance.’

The citizens of District 28 who had to walk through that scene were like hostages or prisoners being transported to another prison.

Rather than feeling anger or envy about the fact that these people were monopolizing the city’s wealth, the citizens from the outskirts felt shame first.

Their worn-out overcoats, their tough and clumsy leather shoes that were not even the right size and clattered, the mud that stuck to their feet with every step, and the grime from not being able to wash properly due to the lack of water made them shrink and lower their heads.

Those who had not learned how to resent the rulers simply blamed their own unremarkable selves, their weak and incompetent parents, and their ancestors who lacked the foresight to actively participate when the city was first being built.

Just as the citizens living here took the comfort they enjoyed for granted, the citizens of District 28 also took poverty and obedience for granted.

They had to be grateful to the party for providing a loaf of cold, tough bread every day and for giving them the opportunity to interview for a good job like this.

If they lived each day loyally and diligently like that, a time might come when they could have a house with a large window to bask in the sunlight or eat their fill of fresh food.

If only they were selected for the patrol unit at the Public Security Bureau today, couldn’t they obtain a life comparable to that of District 12, even if not the city center or District 4?

The disheveled line straightened with a longing for an uncertain future, and they walked forward looking only ahead, no longer giving any attention to the unfamiliar sights. Isaac, too, followed behind them and decided to focus only on how he could get chosen for the patrol unit and how he would find Asel.

There was no other way if he wanted to avoid yearning for things he could not have, if he wanted to avoid falling in love with this place that had bloomed to perfection, using all the misery outside the gateway as its fertilizer.

---

A high wall encircling the area on all sides and the spiky barbed wire placed densely on top of it, a heavy iron gate to match, guard posts and machine guns installed at regular intervals atop the wall, and officers with rifles slung over their shoulders, meant for effective killing rather than for intimidation.

‘One, two, three…’

And the height of the building, which looked to be at least 10 stories tall at a glance.

He had never seen a building this tall, neither on the outside nor since he had entered the city. This was not the tallest building in the city, but for Isaac, it was.

As they neared the Public Security Bureau, the number of officers more than doubled, and the solemn air and suffocating silence made it difficult to even shift his gaze from side to side, so even if there had been a taller building right next to it, he would not have dared to look.

“Fall in!”

The citizens from the outskirts who came for the interview were immediately lined up in the desolate, wide field in front of the building upon the command.

The pale yellow, light sand covering the grassless ground kicked up a dusty cloud with even a small breeze, irritating the applicants’ noses and throats, but everyone waited quietly at attention for the next command.

Their gaze had to be fixed forward, their feet shoulder-width apart, and their hands lightly clenched into fists. Even as sweat trickled down their palms, backs, and foreheads from anxiety and tension, they did not dare to wipe it away.

From District 28 to District 13. The applicants’ places of origin were diverse, but they all had in common the fact that they had passed through three gateways to reach the city center, the only difference being that an overwhelming number of applicants came from districts starting with the number 2.

How long had they been standing in the same position? A person in a black uniform approached and told some to just go back, and others to stay. Gaps formed in the ranks that had been filling the field in a disciplined manner, gradually raising the hope for acceptance.

The selection, based on unknown criteria, continued for another two hours. Their throats, dry from not having a sip of water, stung every time they swallowed, and their eyes, which they repeatedly blinked with force to stay awake, grew easily fatigued and felt as if they would close completely. Their legs swayed, and their heads nodded toward the ground.

There was no one to tell them when it would end or how many would be chosen. The presence of people that had filled the surroundings disappeared one by one, and silence took their place. There was nothing they could do other than somehow endure and remain standing.

“…Selection complete!”

A powerful voice from somewhere announced the end of the interview. When he lifted his head, heavy with fatigue, and looked at the sky, the sun, having set in the west, was painting the city red.

The patrol unit selection, which had begun early in the morning, finally ended at dusk. And Isaac from District 28, no, the young man named ‘Joshua,’ was the only person from his district to be chosen for the patrol unit.

In truth, today’s successful candidates had been decided the moment the applicants entered. This was because the new Chief of Public Security had picked them out one by one from inside the building, which had a clear view of the field.

Making them stand motionless for half a day and announcing a decision that had been made long ago only much later was, it would be correct to say, a simple test to see their desperation.

“…And so, the selected individuals were issued new identification cards and informed of tomorrow’s schedule before being sent back.”

“Good work. You may leave.”

In the office of the new Chief of Public Security, illuminated by electric lights due to the darkness outside.

After Sarah, one of his adjutants and the one who had overseen this interview, reported the results of the patrol unit selection and left, Walter, another adjutant who remained, tossed a disgruntled remark at his superior.

“How about we just round them all up now and sort them out?”

Samuel, who was sitting at his desk reading an intelligence report written in complex code, narrowed his eyes, and soon a sharp gaze was fixed on Walter.

He knew well that his superior disliked arguments, so he felt he had spoken out of turn, but he could not take back the words he had already uttered. The best he could do was, perhaps, to state his honest opinion while glancing up at the ceiling.