I obeyed, taking a seat on the couch, but still said nothing, something that caused my minder to press her lips together. She, too, was silent as she lowered herself onto the stained chair, sitting on the edge like the thought of being on the thing disgusted her. I wasn’t sure what had been spilled on it, but I hoped it was something really nasty.
“I know you have a lot of questions and concerns,” Hilary began, “and let me assure you that I’m here to address them. First, however, we need to go over some of the changes Sergeant Collins and Minder Campbell brought up this morning during the briefing.”
Hilary picked up an accordion file folder that sat at her feet, opened it, and pulled out yet another stack of papers. Seeing them made me want to groan even if I wasn’t at all surprised. I’d known that I would have to sign more of my life away, but that didn’t make the process any less irritating.
Once she’d set the folder down, Hilary drummed the papers against the table to make sure they were uniform and went on. “As the sergeant said, our number one priority is making sure you and all the other women in the program stay safe, which means keeping you away from the general population until this pandemic dies down. Since there’s no way to predict how long that will take, we cannot give you a definitive timeframe, but rest assured that you will be well taken care of.”
She droned on, talking in circles, and telling me very littlewhile reiterating what I already knew. Which was that I was stuck here for an indeterminate amount of time.
The pandemics of the past had ranged from around two years long to RNAB-40, which had gone on for four long years and killed around three billion people. That meant I could expect my stay at the Stanley Hotel to last at least two years. A thought that made me sick.
“Do you have any questions?” Hilary asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
I’d only been half listening but didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Like every other time she’d gone over the rules with me, I didn’t exactly have a choice in anything that was happening, so what was the point of any of this? The contract only existed to make them feel better about what they were doing since I couldn’t refuse and they could change the terms for anything. It was a waste of time. Idiotic.
“No,” I said when Hilary frowned.
She scribbled something on the paper at the top of the pile, then passed it to me. “I need you to initial and sign where indicated, please.”
I signed without even bothering to look the paper over, then slid it back to her.
Hilary set it aside and went on. “The sergeant alluded to consequences last night, which is what I want to go over next. While we are here to keep you safe, we do need to maintain order. There are a lot of you, after all, and being in such close quarters, we need to make sure everyone is doing their part. Which means following the rules and staying out of trouble. To ensure that happens, everyone will be given a job. You’ve been assigned to breakfast cleanup duty, which means you’ll be expected to help clean and clear the dining room each morning.”
I didn’t bother holding in my groan. I hated mornings. Still, at least this answered my question about who did the cooking and cleaning up. We would.
Ignoring my outburst, Hilary went on. “You’ll have a supervisor you will check in with each day, and who will dismiss you when your job has been done to her satisfaction. Failure tofollow these rules will result in loss of privileges and possibly worse consequences if the behavior continues.”
“What kind of consequences?” I asked.
Hilary had been staring at the paper in front of her but looked up at my question. “It will start small. No dessert when we have it, no phone calls to loved ones, withholding of any mail you receive. Things like that. If the poor behavior persists, you will be confined to your room or even moved to a different wing where your contact with the general population will be cut off. There is, of course, also the possibility that you will be sent to one of the government hospitals to wait out the pandemic. Do you understand?”
She meant prison.
I managed to get out, “Yes.”
Hilary gave me a tight smile, scribbled some notes, then once again focused on me. “I’ve already had a very upsetting report about your attitude from one of the other minders, which is why I’m going to take a moment to issue you a stern warning. Watch yourself, Miss Murphy. Do as you’re told and stay in line, or you’ll be sorry. Do you understand?”
I swallowed, but it wasn’t easy to find my voice. Even when I did, the word came out soft. “Yes.”
“Good.” Hilary held my gaze a moment longer before making another note and going on. “You’re to follow the schedule you are given as well as continue in the program the way you would have if you weren’t here. That includes taking any and all medicines you’re prescribed, getting lots of rest and drinking plenty of fluids, watching your diet, and doing everything in your power to stay healthy. We also want you to know that while forming relationships is understandable, fraternization beyond casual acquaintance with the Department of Fertility soldiers is strictly off limits. We’re in close quarters, which is bound to make things complicated, and we don’t need any more drama than we already have. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” I said, thinking of Marc and how while I hadn’t crossed that line, I’d walked right up to it.
Hilary again made a few notes then pushed the paper towardme to sign.
Once I had, she snatched it up and set it with the others, then slipped the entire bundle – minus one page – into the accordion folder. When it was shut, she picked up the remaining paper and held it out. I took it, scanned it, and frowned while Hilary continued her speech.
“This is your schedule. It tells you when group meetings are, when your private counseling session is, when you will meet with me, and when you are to report to work. It also outlines when you have free time and what is and isn’t allowed. Your wristband is programmed with your schedule and will remind you where you need to be and when, but we thought having a printed copy would be useful as well.”
The comment about my wristband being programmed reminded me of the conversation Bette and I had earlier, and I couldn’t help asking, “Still no WIFI?”
I watched Hilary closely for any signs that she got what I was implying, but her expression didn’t change. “Not at the moment, no. Although you’ll be happy to know that the sergeant expects to have the phones lines up and running in the next few days, and everyone has been assigned a weekly time when they’re allowed to call home. You’ll find yours on your schedule.”
Again, I scanned the paper. I’d been given two o’clock on Monday. Today was Friday, which meant I had three days before I could call Trevor. I wished it was sooner, but since I hadn’t been expecting to be able to contact him at all, I was thankful they were at least allowing this much.
“Don’t miss it or you will have to wait another week,” Hilary added. “Understand?”
I scanned the other events listed, but knowing a verbal response was expected, also said, “Yes.”
