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change.”
    “They only fear change because they do not know change. But as you said yourself today, it’s time for change. You cannot keep the people pacified forever.” I try not to sound reproachful, but to represent my stance as pure and as honestly as possible.
    “So you see the safety zone as a prison? So, now, when you get the opportunity, you decide to tell us we should destroy everything we have built over many decades?”
    Quickly I shake my head and try to explain. “The Legion has made many great achievements. I would never try to destroy it. I want to improve the lives of the people in the safety zone. Not overnight, but in small steps. The introduction of normal food would be a start.”
    There is no answer. Only embarrassed silence. A350 clears her throat beside me. “I think we should keep A518’s proposal in mind and discuss it at the next meeting. Do we all agree?”
    Nobody replies. The mood has turned cold. However, trouble lingers in the air like a threatening storm cloud.
    “You should go to sleep now. It’s been an exciting day. I’ll see you tomorrow,” A350 says to me. Indirectly, she’s telling me I should leave. I obey her and leave the room. I’m not sure if I will ever know what motivated her to help me.
    As I enter the conference room the next morning, I find it empty. Only one plate is still covered. Obviously the others have already eaten. On the plate is a kind of bread. Next to it is a glass of juice. Both are completely odorless. I am not hungry, but I force myself to eat.
    As I sit at the large table all alone, I let my gaze wander through the window wall to the outside. The sun bathes the room in a golden light, while the sky glows slightly rose-colored. I close my eyes and imagine the smell of dew in the forest and the light wind which would pass through my short hair. There is always something magical about the morning. The world is calm, as if the world is just now opening its eyes.
    A loud clatter interrupts my memories. Scared, I go to the kitchen to investigate. Inside one of the servants is kneeling, gingerly picking up shards of glass. He head is lowered, so I cannot tell her age. When she has collected all the shards, she remains motionless on the ground, as though she were afraid to meet my gaze.
    Suddenly, there is a deathly silence in the room. We both seem to be holding our breath. But then I see blood dripping from her hands to the ground. I see her pressing a shard into her palm. Alarmed, I jump up and rush to her as she crouches, motionless, on the floor.
    I gently put my hands around her and gently release her cramped fingers so that the red shards fall to the ground.
    “What have you done? Are you feeling alright?” I ask her worriedly. She just shakes her head silently without looking up.
    “What’s your name?”
    “D560,” she says quietly. Her voice trembles. Obviously she’s afraid.
    She’s from my generation. How terrible it must be for them to see the luxuries the Legion commanders enjoy every day without being able to be a part of it.
    “I’m A518. Can I help you?”
    At last she dares to look me in the eyes. Tears conceal her eyes. The sight touches me immediately as I have never seen tears in the safety zone. Not even with Zoe. Before I could ask any more questions, she becomes frightened again.
    “What’s going on here?” A stern voice asks. When I turn around, it’s A350.
    “D560 cut herself. She needs a doctor,” I tell her the situation quickly.
    “She cut herself?” A350 repeated my words in disbelief, as though it was something completely unimaginable.
    “Yes, it was not intentional,” I assure her and conceal the fact that D560 deliberately pressed the pieces into her own hands.
    A350 draws her disapproving eyebrows together, but presses a button behind her right ear and speaks to someone. The doctor is on his way to the conference room.
    “There. Someone will take care of her. Follow me.”
    “Should we not wait for the