Atlas Shrugged: A Short Story

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I volunteered with the washing after breakfast. The repetition of cleaning pots distracted my mind from William and Charles and the Mother Country. At least for the present moment. William returned to the main deck, and Charles still hung around the diner hall. He sat in the corner, reading Atlas Shrugged, his mostly green eyes darting from sentence to sentence. To be reading such a large banned book out in the open must have felt so liberating, and I made a mental note to find time today to do exactly what he was doing now. I probably shouldn’t have freaked out on him yesterday. I trusted Charles Stone. I think I always had. I just didn’t want to accept it before.
Mallory thanked me for the help and I told her I would come back early to help with lunch. She then told me my help wasn’t necessary. I left the diner and walked the halls, trying to find something productive to do. An indoctrinated trait I would never grow out of.
A nurse really wasn’t useful unless someone was sick or hurt. But my supplies could use a little organizing and I really should take note of the inventory. I had no idea what I grabbed back on Unite.
I found the little empty clinic at the end of the dorm rooms. A little cot sat at the corner and I changed
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I saw green replace the dark gold and it made me feel better. His bad mood was gone. “My DNA sequence is special. The Mother Country has been trying to perfect the population for decades to create the flawless human. I happen to be one of them. They call us by a code number. Twenty-four.” I remembered the code from the elevator as we tried to escape. Charles used it on the guards and the guard let us pass without even a frisk or a search of our bags. “I have a special gene sequence which transplants information into my brain. It’s similar to how some viruses worked in the past. Did you learn about viruses in your nursing

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