"There's a section of the road up ahead that's not going to be shielded from the sunlight this entire week. The budget's been real low this year. Pray to your gods and hope they listen, haha!"
The bus driver's wooden laugh alerted the passengers, all of whom hurried to pull out protective helmets from the bottom of their seats. It would only safeguard their eyes, ears, mouth, and lungs. For those who had no other choice but to take this road, this was the best they could hope for.
After all, there's no permanent escape from the sunlight in the surface cities, no matter how expensive the shelter you lived in was. One way or the other, the ordinary people would be exposed to the sun's curse if they wanted to make a living. They were prepared to deal with the inevitable manifestation of the curse, just as their forefathers had been.
Standing beside the driver's seat, Mir pulled out his brother's cracked helmet, sighing at its deteriorating condition. Since that guy didn't need this anymore, he had been graced with the honor of using this ten-year-old, originally second-hand, ugly piece of scrap metal. His parents had offered to buy a new one, of course. But the price for these types of equipment was on the rise at that time...and he knew what the family's bank balance was.
As the bus made its way past the shielded region, the searing sunlight made its way through the small windows on all four sides, outshining the weak electric bulbs on the ceiling immediately. It wasn't even a competition.
Mir took the opportunity to survey the entire bus, noticing several faces he knew in the back.
Classmates, but not friends. Mir used to be a popular kid once upon a time. He knew every face in his class, and numerous outside it. But that was the old Mir, a hopeful, bright-eyed, spirited young teenager pursuing a dream. The current him was almost at the other end of the spectrum.
Looking away, he put his palm over the crack of his helmet, shielding the exposed area of his forehead from the sunlight's direct touch.
The sunlight wasn't deadly all the time. In fact, throughout an entire day, only an hour or two might contain the type of sunlight that could awaken the virus sleeping in the human body. But this period was never continuous. The lethal light could be existent for five minutes in the morning, half an hour in the noon, ten minutes in evening, and a two-minute-burst of sunshine before dusk. There was no way to predict its routine, not yet at least.
The bus sped up, its driver eager to reach the next shielded region of the city. Five minutes later, they reached an area covered by one of the numerous semi-transparent shades cast over the city, making all the passengers breathe in relief. These shades had been first developed seventy years ago, capable of neutralizing the sunlight to a great extent, though not fully. These were the only reason surface cities could thrive.
As Mir took his helmet off, he noticed a dull red stripe pulsing on the back of his hand. This stripe was shaped exactly the same as the crack of his helmet.
He didn't need a mirror to know that most of the exposed parts of his skin sported similar stripes.
The people who were regularly exposed to the lethal sunlight gradually turned red-skinned, from head to toe, eventually undergoing an explosive, uncontrolled mutation and turning into monstrous creatures. Thankfully, the short bursts of exposure he had just gone through would only have temporary effects.
The human body itself was capable of battling the sun's curse, to a minor extent at least. This capability was the sole hope of the ordinary people.
Just outside the tall walls of the District's college, Mir noticed a small team of men in military uniform holding up a sign in front of a makeshift booth. A very large crowd was slowly forming around them as they put up a tent and rolled a very large metal ball inside it. Had he not been taller than most of his peers, he would have missed the writing on the sign.
"Want to visit a fully explored Green-grade Taboo Zone near your city? Take a test here to see if you qualify! It's free!"
It seemed to be a recruitment initiative under the guise of educational trips. But the offer was very, very tempting, nevertheless; hence the crowd was only growing in size.
The students, however, were timid by nature, especially after noticing the shining guns lined up at the back of the booth. Some of the braver ones were making inquiries in a polite tone, but the uniformed men seemed uninterested in talking to them for some reason.
Mir guessed that this was a test to filter out the bold ones. Timidity and hesitation weren't traits welcomed in their profession. The menacing-looking guns behind them were an addition to the threats their profession represented.
Curious, and eager to make the most of the opportunity, Mir pushed his way to the front of the crowd and offered the oldest men in uniform a confident handshake.
"Hello! Welcome to National College-013. I am Mir, a student of the final semester here. I'd like to take the test and join the educational expedition!"
Him being a student of the final semester was a small lie. He had only added it to insinuate a hidden offer– that he was one of the potential recruits these men would be looking for. Most rookies in military entered in the profession straight after college, usually with less than decent academic achievements.
As for his baseless confidence that he'd qualify for the trip, such foolishness, real or faked, was very compatible with the military. The recruiters preferred the positive, hopeful young men and women who knew how to abide by all kinds of orders.
The middle-aged man he had addressed had a gaunt, almost grim countenance. He looked Mir up and down with hawk-like eyes and almost smiled... almost.
"Enter the booth, talk to private Keryv," he replied. He didn't shake Mir's hand.
The students around him looked relived that a guinea pig had finally bitten the delicious bait. They could wait and evaluate the results, and then decide whether to follow Mir's footsteps or not. Nobody wanted to be tricked into being conscripted.
Upon entering the tent, Mir realized that the bait was a lot more insidious than he had assumed. Private Keryv was an exceptionally pretty young lady, who was operating a ten-feet-wide spherical machine that must have been contained inside the metal ball. Another strikingly handsome older man, wearing a doctor's apron, was helping her.
The horde of teenagers waiting outside would not fare well here, in this tiny world of bright smiles, enthusiastic gestures, and frequent physical contact while being strapped inside the machine. Mir wasn't immune to it either.
"Try to calm your mind. The test is about to begin," Private Keryv declared. Mir heard a dull thrum rise behind him from the main body of the machine.
Ten seconds later, it ended unceremoniously. Surprised and relieved at the same time, Mir watched Private Keryv unstrap him while the doctor was going through a series of data on a screen adjacent to the machine.
His gasp grabbed both Mir and Miss Keryv's attention. She quickly made her way to the screen and watched whatever was being displayed there with wide eyes.
"Did I qualify?" Mir asked eagerly.
"....Erm," the doctor squirmed for a second before shifting to a professional tone.
"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Mr. Mir. But it seems you do not qualify for our program. And a word of advice, please get yourself a check-up as soon as it's convenient for you and your family. The viral infection in your body seems to have reached the border of high-risk stage."