Dear readers, tonight with us is the protagonist from a Utopian world, where everyone lives on massively tall monolithic buildings, and social status is determined by literally how high up you live. She is here to tell us about her world, about moving between levels, and encountering an agent that governs the building.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I was born and raised in a monolith. It has a tall center with multiple branches of pods extending from that. Escalators at either end run the entire length of the core. They have stops at each level, with latrines placed conveniently close to the exits so that you don’t have an accident when traveling long distances.

I was not quite lowlith, but not far off, which meant the first pod I remember was slightly below the mid levels. There aren’t as many windows there, but there are a few. I spent quite a few nights sneaking out for a moment at a window. The sky at dawn is particularly beautiful, as it splashes colour against the pale grey walls of the halls.

The left side of the mid pods were mainly used for agriculture. The right is for processing them. I can still remember the smell of compost, which reminds me of why I work as hard as I do. The children’s ward was directly below one of the lower levels of the mids, and while I’ve been told smells rise, this one definitely rose and fell like some sort of decaying cloud.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

I have an abacus from the children’s ward. I wasn’t supposed to take it, probably, but I don’t think it was missed. The other children were more interested in baby dolls or ball and sticks.

I wanted a grown up doll that looked like one of my first carer’s Ms. Renton. She was so incredibly beautiful I used to imagine she was an Elite.  I was informed by the Matrons dolls with breasts were out of the question. Apparently they needed to protect my morals. Strange, since half the monolith has them.

I’m getting off track. The abacus. It was brought by my second carer, Mr. Dirby. He taught me to count, which was a joy to me. Everything could be ordered, and that calmed me down like nothing else could. I looked forward to Mr. Dirby’s hours.

Of course, he had one look at Ms. Renton and ruined everything. They both transferred out of the children’s ward. Heard they are together to this day, with their brood of non-orphans to watch over. The bright side is he forgot his abacus. When I aged out, I smuggled it under my coat. I keep it on my desk.

On to your next question… Well,  I’m an orphan raised in a sea of wanted children. Few cherished memories. Let me think. I liked the pudding I had once at one of the other kid’s birthday party! I don’t know what the flavor was exactly, but it was the first time I’d had anything that sweet.

What do you do now?

In my current job, I run numbers. Funny how that worked out! I try to keep things running smoothly. Always learning more about people around me. Information is power, another motto. But I’ve done it all! Laundry, peeling vegetation, turning compost, assembling gadgets and do dads, minder of children, secretary, dispatcher, seamstress… There’s more, but I can see your eyes glaze over at the monotony of the list. Believe me, mine did too.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

Know what I just said about eyes glazing over? It was noticed.

I was about to move to a higher lith level. I was literally in the middle of a tour with a real estate agent when I found out my account had been tampered with. The apartment was denied even though I had the CAVES! You can imagine how that felt… no. Perhaps you can’t. There is no graceful way to say I lost it.

I only go to the Bureau of Society Betterment under duress. Endless forms and the fear of reassignment if they decide it suits. Did I mention the whole place drives you mad because there is absolutely nothing besides bureaucracy to look at?

What did you first think when you met Mr. Evans of the Bureau of Society Betterment? I heard he was quite taken with you.

I noticed he was handsome – and handsomely dressed. Frankly, I was relieved. I knew the first second I saw him that it would all be sorted out in my favor. I have a way with men, what can I say?

Then Ms. White showed up, and I felt doomed.

What was the scariest thing in your adventures?

Ms. White, clearly. You wouldn’t want to be on her wrong side.

What is the worst thing about the monolith?

The latrines are not always foul, but most of the time they are. I hold my breath and work quickly. Other – can I call them highlights? Are the family days. I loathe family days. No matter where I go, I can hear children laughing and babies crying. The inebriated adults aren’t any better. The day after everything is a mess. I once cleaned sticky putty out of an outtake vent because no one told a group of boys not to put it there. When I finally pried it loose, it blew out into my hair. I had to cut it, and it impacted my pay.

Two thirds of the men I’d been dating didn’t pay me any attention until it grew back.

The best part? I got a reprimand for trying to correct the boys’ behavior. Anything goes on family days, apparently. Unless it’s discipline.

What is the best thing about it?

It might seem like a maze, but the escalator system is color coded so if you make an effort it’s easy to find your way anywhere.

Tell us a little about your friends.

I don’t have many friends. You really only need one or two people you can talk to, and if you don’t have that I recommend talking to yourself. I was doing that – going on to myself – when I met Carly. She surprised me with her dark humor, and we’ve been friends ever since. It was a lucky break because she’s my assistant at work! Having her around makes the days easier. And she makes the best tea in all the monolith.

Any romantic involvement?

Not currently. Maybe one day.

I don’t have free time at the moment for dates, but I’ve been told I should try to be myself with men if I want to find the right partner. What does that mean? I’m always myself; it’s more that I’m not sure I want a long term relationship. It seems a terrible risk. Ms. White says it is worth it, but as wise as she is, how would she know? She doesn’t have a long term partner.

…Don’t tell her I said anything.

Whom (or what) do you really hate?

Alison Hood. What a piece of work. It isn’t my fault her husband kept sending me gifts.  I never even talked to him once and she acted like I’d personally deprived her children of a father. She stained my clothes whenever she was in the laundry. She pushed me on the escalators, hard enough to bruise. She poisoned my food, more than once. Not enough to send me to the infirmary, but enough that I had to stay in the latrines far too long. Who does that? Of course she acted like I was crazy accusing her.

What’s your favourite drink, colour, and relaxing pastime?

Can taking tea with Ms. White count as a pastime? My favorite blend is her Floral Garden Ceylon blend with fresh honey. Incredible. Of course there is the added benefit of gossip. She knows secrets about everyone! Just between us, I heard the Russels are breaking up, and it’s because of a certain best friend actually being a bit more than… You knew that already, didn’t you?

If you don’t care for gossip, I enjoy a good game of Chess, my favourite colors are blue and green – the Out colours, and long walks around the monolith after dark. Much more relaxing in the night hours.

What does the future hold for you?

I’d like to discover all there is, or at least as much of it as possible. Suddenly, I find that I have access to more information than I thought was even available. I’m overwhelmed, but also excited at the possibilities!

Maybe get a dog. Ms. White thinks I’ll enjoy having one around. They seem awful noisy, but I do like how they are excited to see me no matter what. Seems a rare attribute!

Can you share a secret with us, which you’ve never told anyone else?

I’m planning an audit of everyone in the pod. If we are to continue in a harmonious manner, we need accountability for our strengths and weaknesses. I promise to be fair to Alison Hood – after all, she won’t recognize me. I love having unfair advantages.

Anaïs Chartschenko hails from the Canadian wilderness. She has come to enjoy such modern things as electric tea kettles. As an author, her published works include The Weightless One and Sailing Toward Us. She illustrated Biron the Bee Who Couldn’t (written by Gregg McBride).

You can find Celeste on the pages of It Takes A Village.

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