The Slots
As the men all trooped to the Slots for the final time that week, Archie looked around in wonder at the place. He had yet to grow first weary, then terrified of it, still stuck in the first sparkling moments of discovery. This was his second Date, and on his previous visit he had not been able to sleep afterwards. Nor had he slept much the night before, crunched with anticipation. He looked a little tired in the morning, but had tied to make himself look at little better by the time they left the block to come here. He knew that the better he looked the more chance he had, but niggling in the back o him mind he also knew that he wasn’t quite sure what looking good actually was. He just tried to arrange his hair to disguise the bumps and scars of surgery, stopping just short of pricking his finger and rouging his cheeks. In the line of men he was no different, he saw that now. They had all clearly made some soft of effort, the older ones making less and looking better for it. Archie was wondering, as the knot tied his stomach slowly until he had to take deep breaths, what he would see today. He didn’t know, he couldn’t even guess because of the newness of it all. All he had was the memory of yesterday, of seeing something in the Slots that he had not thought possible, and which had a strange effect on him. It wasn’t wholly unpleasant, but it did feel a little like falling.
As the line passed through the door each man was scanned in case they were bringing anything illegal with them. Archie knew that if he had anything, he would be moved back to the block and not come here again for a month. He also couldn’t quite understand what anyone would bring here, what use anything they ad would be. What they saw they saw, and could not touch, could not hear nor smell. There was no reason to do anything to stop that, because it seemed to benefit all involved. He knew the theory, he had been taught it for years now by Mr Snyde is teachmaster. He knew all about the Great Split, and how at the end there was two sorts left, them and us. And then how they got taken away and put in the building they were now going to. He still wasn’t clear on why, or what happened to them in that building, but he knew that when he went and saw them he was acting out a tradition which dated back millennia.
He was inside, looking around the room. It was comfortable, if extremely large. There were chairs with padding on, not cold metal things. The slots themselves were set into the far wall, with screens arranged between one and the next and the line of men there seemed oblivious to the rest of the world as they peered through into that other world.
Archie remembered what he’d seen, he hoped in some indefinably terrible way to see that again. As he stood waiting his turn his head became light and he thought he may have to leave and get some fresh air. No, he thought, that would be a waste. So he stood, taking very deep breaths, trying to control the tides of fear and excitement which coursed through him. His mind was full now of the face he’d seen behind those slots, out of reach in another place. Strange, he thought in a moment of rational reflection, how it’s dwelling on me so, and I only sa it for a few minutes. He didn’t understand really, and was left with the vague desire to see it again. He knew the chance was small, how some of the old men had not seen the same one twice in all their time. It worried him slightly, if he was going to be like them, with a head full of faces that he would never see. But somewhere inside he knew he would be different. By some fluke of the system he would see his face again today. To be reminded of the eyes, the curve of the jaw, gentle taper of the nose. Archie kicked himself, lost in his reverie. It was his turn now, and he stepped forward, every step feeling like a punch in the stomach.
He sat uneasily in the chair, even though it was deep and comfortable, rubbing his sweating hands over his knees. Nervously, he glanced around, was anyone watching him? No, they were all too interested in their own slots. As he turned back he saw the panel slide away, and he slowly edged forward to peer through.
His eager eyes met a pair just so. Eyes a little wider than his own, with lashes he took notice of. A frown trickled over his face and away. Those which he was looking at creased, and the cheeks to either side of them glowed a little brighter, the natural colour showing up the smears of blood inexpertly rubbed in. Archie found himself grinning in response, aware that while he was unable to look away he thought he was causing affront looking so long and hard. He saw a smile split the other face in perfect symmetry, a broad smile which shrank quickly to a small, coquettish twist. Archie felt something then which he was not able to quite comprehend. It was as though his heart was about to burst from his chest, something which he was sure should feel bad, and yet he had never felt so whole. A spike of fear lanced his brain as he realised that he had been living half a life until now, and that he could never go back without feeling that loss.
The lips of the face parted, as though about to speak. Archie held his breath, head hot and ears humming. The panel slid back into place in silent mocking. Archie breathed, deep and long. He did not move until the next man tapped him on the shoulder and sat in his still warm seat. As he left, Archie looked back over his shoulder to try and catch a final glimpse of the world through the slots. All he saw was the man looking adoringly at someone through the gap. Archie dragged his feet, the hope blossoming amidst the ruin that maybe they changed as often as the men did, and that his face, the face he had become lost in, was not the one now entertaining that other, more base man. As Archie walked out of the building and into the sunlight, he began to understand why old men looked upon their Dates with dread, because in the light of the sun he felt hollow and small. His own mind conspired to ruin him, painting the face over his dreams and waking thoughts like a window through which he looked at the world. His feet and mind dragged for two weeks, and the face haunted him until he was once again in that slow moving line, going toward the building.
