The Forsaken

the other kids that we’ve rescued from Island Alpha. And hopefully, you’ll help us work to bring down the UNA and establish a fair society in its place.”
    I sense from her voice that she’s not telling us everything about her agenda. But I don’t want any more surprises or secrets.
    “So that’s it?” I ask. “We just get to live here from now on? There’s got to be a catch.”
    Suddenly, Minister Harka’s terrifying visage flashes across my mind. I tighten my grip on Liam’s hand.
    What if this is all a trap, and we’re being set up somehow?
    But Minister Harka is dead. I saw him die on the wheel. So if there is some dark surprise that awaits us in the heart of Destiny Station, it has to be something else. But what?
    The elevator interrupts my thoughts with a jolt, as it comes to rest.
    “Level three,” a woman in the back declares. “We’ll take the occupied pods up to level six and start thawing them.”
    Dr. Elliott nods.
    “This is where you two get off,” Dr. Vargas-Ruiz tells us. “The other kids your age from the island live on levels one and two. You’ll meet them soon enough.”
    We follow her out of the elevator and into a wide tunnel carved through the rock, supported by metal beams. A few other people disembark behind us, heading off down another passage. Yellow utility lights hang along one side of each tunnel. They make it bright enough to see but cast odd, gloomy shadows.
    “Watch your step and watch your heads,” Dr. Vargas-Ruiz cautions us. Behind me, I hear the elevator start up again.
    I feel nervous because I don’t know what’s coming next. If things go wrong, Liam and I are trapped in here, and there’s no place to run. This rock could be our tomb.
    But as we walk, I can hear the tunnels buzzing with life. The distant sounds of conversation and laughter echo off the walls, coming from small rooms attached to the main tunnel. I even hear faint strains of acoustic music every now and then, and realize they must have instruments up here.
    Soon more adults emerge, as our tunnel intersects with a larger one. Like an ant colony, this intricate maze seems to be created from a series of tight crisscrossing tunnels.
    “You’ll get to know everyone eventually,” Dr. Vargas-Ruiz tells us. “Two thousand people isn’t as many as you’d think. In a week or two, it’ll seem like home.”
    “Are there any windows in this place?” I ask.
    “There are some rock crevices to look out of, on the highest levels. We mainly use them to keep watch. We’ve built an access tunnel to the top of the rock as well. At night we often go out there for air.”
    As we pass people in the tunnels, they wave and smile at me and Liam. I wave back. It’s clear they know we’re new arrivals. I realize that almost everyone here probably went through an experience similar to ours, assuming Dr. Vargas-Ruiz is telling us the truth.
    We are the rebels now, I think, hardly believing that I’ve become the very thing the GPPT purportedly tested for. Our government’s paranoia and fascism has created exactly what it feared the most.
    I think back to how I was in New Providence: shy, quiet, and a little mousy. An orphan shut inside the confines of her own mind within a society that ultimately didn’t understand her.
    But that was before Gadya taught me how to stand up for myself.
    Before David and Veidman taught me to question the reality around me.
    Before Rika reminded me of the importance of being generous and kind.
    And most of all, it was before Liam taught me how to fall in love.
    Three boys roughly my age stream right past us. No one jostles anyone. Everyone seems polite and respectful.
    “This way,” Dr. Vargas-Ruiz says, steering us onwards, past more kids.
    I’m suddenly self-conscious. Everyone here looks so clean and normal that it’s almost shocking. I can smell their soap and freshly laundered clothes. I can’t wait to get out of my zone suit.
    “Where are you taking us?” Liam asks, as we navigate another tunnel, going slightly upward.
    “To your rooms. After thawing, we generally make new arrivals spend three days in a very informal quarantine—mostly to get them adjusted to life in the station.” She pauses. “We also need to debrief you further, and get you medical checkups.”
    She turns a corner, and we follow. A moment later, we reach a large metal door positioned flush in the rock wall. A plaque on it reads QUARANTINE ROOM 2.
    Dr. Vargas-Ruiz opens the door. Beyond