Operation Warren

journal of laura harper

We gathered our things, our few actual possessions and returned to the green tent. When I thought about what was going to happen; I regretted not bringing more with me to remind me of home. As we arrived, the men and women were separated. The men to the left; the women to the right. We were then given a bracelet, told to put it on and to proceed on to get screened.

What did they mean by screened?

I soon figured it out. Within our groups, we were again divided; ages 18-29, 30-39, 40 - 49 and finally 50-55. Fifty-five seemed to be the oldest here. Within the age groups there were a few shoddily erected curtained off areas. Behind them sat an army doctor, and one of the thousand people I was sharing the tent with.

People sat on chairs, and in no particular order went forward as each curtained area emptied. People had begun to talk, names were being exchanged between the ones who were brave enough to speak. The people around me all looked exactly as I did.

Completely and utterly horrified.

I sat silently however, not wishing to engage in conversation. I was too busy thinking about my friends, my family. I had had plans for today; I was supposed to be meeting my sister Charlotte. She was 6 months pregnant. What would happen to her if it did come to war? Would she be among the next thousand? Somehow, I doubted it. Nobody here seemed to know each other.

A cubicle emptied, and nobody else seemed eager to go forward. I stood up and walked forward, trying hard not to seem too scared, but at the same time trying not to seem too confident. Moving the blue curtain as I entered I didn't see much. A cot against one "wall", a woman seated in a chair beside a small table sporting a smile as fake as Charlottes boobs , and a trolley with some medical equipment on it.

"And your name is?" she asked as I entered.

"Oh, it's Laura Harper." I mumbled to her, looking at the ground.

"Please take a seat Miss Harper," she said to me, waving her hand towards the cot. I sat. "Now," she said, looking up from the papers in front of her. "We're going to conduct a few simple tests, just to check your general health. We'll also take some blood to check."

"What for?" I asked her.

"Pregnancy," she replied, "Certain precautions need to be taken in the event of pregnancy, it won’t change you're going underground. But we need to be sure, and careful."

"Okay," I said to her and waited to see what would come next.

I sat quietly as she did her tests, spoke only when spoken to. I had never been much of a talker at the best of times. She asked me questions, mostly about what injections I'd had, some stuff about when I had my last period. Then she drew blood. A process I was familiar with, yet had never had it done to me. It wasn't the most pleasant thing, to see your blood coming out of you and into the little - well I don't know what to call it - tube. When it was full, she turned away, scribbled something onto the label and turned back to me. "Could I have your braceleted wrist please?" she asked.

I held out my arm, the bracelet hanging loosely around it. She scribbled something on it, her writing was illegible from my angle. She caught me looking, and smiled, "All it says is you've been through this screening, and that pregnancy is highly unlikely."

"Oh, alright."

"You may go now. Gather your bags and report outside, they'll get you ready to fly." she said, the constant smile not wavering in the slightest.

I stood to leave but didn't, "Doesn’t it bother you?" I asked her.

"Doesn’t what bother me?" she asked, looking up, smile never faltering.

"Doesn't it bother you? That you'll go to so much trouble to prepare people to go to this underground city, but you don't get to go?" I asked her.

"Well, I suppose it does, but this is my job. I just do what I'm told."

"But what if this actually comes to war? What about then, when you'll probably die. Or if you don't you and everyone you love is going to go through hell literally. You'll face everything from hair loss to the increased chances of cancer. People everywhere will die. And it'll be up to 200,000 people, which is an absurdly small amount of people considering the total populating of the USA exceeds 400 million and there’s close to 8 billion people on the entire planet. What about then? Will it bother you then?" I was almost shouting by the end of my speech. I was fuming, no other word for it.

Her smile was gone, instead with a grim she face answered slowly, as if choosing her words. "Currently, this is only a precaution Miss Harper, so I do not need to worry. However, should there be nuclear war, then I will do the same as every other person on the planet. I will pray to whatever gods I need to so that my family will be okay."

"Can I borrow a pen?" I asked her, still not entirely over my anger but more calm than I had been. She rummaged around in her pocket for a moment and produced a pen. Taking it I scribbled on the nearest piece of paper -ignoring her protests that it was someone else’s chart and that I shouldn't be doing that –

Charlotte Harper
46 Lincoln Plaza
Cleveland OH
44109

"She's twenty-two. She's six months pregnant. I don't care how you fucking manage. But you get her into this thing, or else." I left on that, pulling open the blue plastic curtain and grabbing my bags. People gave me strange looks as I walked past, I was the weird on who caused a fuss, who had shouted at her doctor. Well I didn't care. Our parents had died in a car crash three years previously, she was the only family I had.

The man at the tent entrance smiled as I walked to him. "You okay ma'am?" he asked, "We all heard your.." he paused here to consider his wording, "outburst."

I smiled. "I'm fine. Now, about this plane?" I asked.

"This way, ma'am." he said and walked from the tent and towards two huge Boeing 747's that had landed sometime during the night. "You'll be in the one on the left." he said as we got within 200 feet of the planes. "You'll be with the woman, and the other is for the men. Honestly, I don't understand the need to keep you all separate. You'll all be going underground together anyway."

"You got that one right. I'm Laura. I may as well introduce myself now, seeing as we'll never meet again." I muttered, holding out a hand.

"I'm George. George McMahon. Pleased to make your brief acquaintance Laura." he smiled and shook my hand.

"You too George." I grinned. He was the first person who'd been nice to me here so far. The one who'd been really nice to me, not the false smile liking.

"Well, this is your stop." he said as we drew level with the boarding ladder of my plane. "Hopefully we'll see each other again. Yanno, if it doesn't come to war."

"You too George. You were a nice person to know here." I called back to him as I climbed the stairs to the plane.