Crewel

and fix it.
    There’s a faint hum filling the other room, and I shiver as I step through. It’s at least thirty degrees colder in here than any other space in the compound. I pull my jacket tighter and step up to the nearest shelf; there’s only one way to find out what’s in there.
    The boxes latch on the right side, and I have to try twice to raise the tiny lever. In response, the front of it slides away, revealing a small crystal cube. I reach in to pull it out. A thin strand of light shimmers, suspended in the centre and woven into a delicate knot. I turn it over in my hands and the thread doesn’t move. It’s too thin to belong to the person with this identifying sequence. I’ve seen individual threads after removal, and they’re comprised of several strings knitted together; I’m sure that this is only part of the ripped thread. On the bottom, I notice an etched code composed of a series of numbers and varying bars. Sliding my digifile next to it, I open a folder labelled Tracking and press the small screen up to the code. A pulsing icon flashes immediately and then a new dataset appears:
     
     
    NAME : Riccard Blane
    PERSONAL IDENTIFYING SEQUENCE : 06022103 EN BH BR
    OCCUPATION : banker
    REMOVAL DATA : 10112158 EN
    REQUEST CONTACT : Amolia Blane
    RELATION : wife
    CURRENT STATUS : active
     
     
    Active?
    The strand is too thin to be the banker’s remains. If he was removed two years ago, why is he listed as active? I hold the cube up to the repository lights, but no new information appears. I save the dataset to the digifile to study later and place the cube back in the box.
    I tiptoe down the narrow aisle, afraid even my light footfalls might attract attention in this section of the compound. As I get further from my entry point, I begin to worry. What if Loricel returns to her studio, or someone else walks into the repository? Starting to head back to investigate closer to the rift, I glimpse the shelves one row over. Squat metal rectangles, not square boxes, compose these units. I dart quickly to them. Each is labelled with an identifying sequence, but there’s no storage cube inside. Instead a thin plastic card pops out of the cubby. Fumbling with the digifile, I scan the card and wait as the dataset loads.
     
     
    NAME : Annelin Mayz
    PERSONAL IDENTIFYING SEQUENCE : 11262158 NU MG MA
    ALTERATION DATA : 12162159 NU
    RELOCATION: EN
    REQUEST CONTACT : Officer Jem Blythe
    KIN : none / permanent removal
    CURRENT STATUS : healthy
     
     
    The file includes a picture of a young girl. According to her PIS, she’s only two years old now. This is what I’ve been looking for: records of children who have been rewoven to foster families. Amie’s information will be in here, too. I push Annelin’s card back into the cubby and bump the latch on the next file. The small door slides open, and before I can close the lever, the next card ejects all the way out. Reaching down I pick up the card and scan it. Maybe there’s a pattern to the alterations. The first line of the dataset stops me in my tracks. Although it’s not Amie.
    It’s Sebrina Bell.
    Bell.
    I jam the buttons linked to the attached image files. The girl in this image is an infant, her cheeks both dimpled and a wisp of dark curls falling across her forehead. She seems too little to smile, but she is grinning like she’s staring at someone she adores. Someone like her father. Her eyes are a sparkling, deep blue. I know those eyes instantly. They must run in the family.
    It’s Jost’s daughter – the one who disappeared right before his eyes. I choke back a sob. Clutching the card to my chest, I scan through the data on the digifile:
     
     
    NAME: Sebrina Bell
    PERSONAL IDENTIFYING SEQUENCE: 02262158 ES BR BS
    ALTERATION DATA: 05282158 ES
    RELOCATION: EN
    REQUEST CONTACT: Ambassador Cormac Patton
    KIN: father/abandoned  mother / permanent removal / deceased
    CURRENT STATUS: healthy
    NOTES : New personal identifying sequence to be assigned due to collateral removal.
     
     
    All the resentment I’ve felt toward Cormac bubbles up and mixes with this information. I slip the card into my pocket and lean against the shelf trying to slow my ragged breathing. I’ll save the file in a minute; I still have to find Amie.
    July 24th. Her sequence begins with 0724. The other girls’ information was filed according to the sector of relocation. I scan each row of files until I find the cubes for the Northern Sector. Rushing down the row, I scan