Days Like This by Alison Stewart Page B

cheek. Lily tried to imagine that the pain was flowing out with her tears, seeping into Daniel’s pillow. The thought was soothing and the dull headache that had been with her for days eased a tiny bit.
    She wished Daniel was here. With him gone, it seemed as if her world was closing in more than ever. She thought of the Wall outside that had gone up with no explanation. It was just the beginning of their imprisonment. She could almost feel walls around her when she stretched out her hands. They blocked out what she could know, what she could learn, where she could go, who she could know; her future. Instead of growing, it was like she was enclosed in a room that was getting smaller by the day.
    Breathing deeply, she let her gaze slip around Daniel’s room. Something caught her eye – a tiny white triangle sticking out from behind his computer screen.
    Lily raised herself carefully, wincing at the stab of pain in her head. Tears blurred her vision, but she brushed them away, squinting at the tiny white triangle. She stood unsteadily and twisted Daniel’s screen around. Taped to the back of the monitor was a little folded square of paper, a small corner of which had peeled away.
    Heart hammering, Lily prised the paper away. Written in Daniel’s scrawling writing were a brief set of technical instructions, clearly relating to computer access. Also written in tiny writing were lists of numbers, all of them crossed out except for one.
    The movement had brought Lily’s headache back with a vengeance. It was like someone was thumping a drum inside her head, and yelling at high volume. She retched, squeezing her eyes shut to try and block out even the dim light in Dan’s bedroom. The little square of paper she was holding was exactly what she had been searching for, but she couldn’t do anything about it until her headache eased.
    Lily pushed the paper into her pocket and, holding her head, staggered back to her bedroom, lowering herself onto her bed. When Alice came to check on her, Lily whispered to please leave her alone.
    The headache persisted for almost the entire night. Lily had a new understanding of what Daniel had gone through in the days before he disappeared. She was relieved when she finally felt herself slipping into an exhausted sleep.

    The headache had eased by morning and Lily hurried to Daniel’s room, not wanting to waste any more time. She stared at the scrap of paper covered in her brother’s scrawl. She felt like an idiot for not having found it earlier.
    Lily turned on Dan’s screen and followed his written instructions. At first she couldn’t get past the usual educational software. But when she tried again, working more rapidly, she was able to enter a black screen which threw up a single blinking command query.
    With shaking fingers, she typed in Daniel’s thirteen-digit code. It was only when some kind of directory appeared that Lily acknowledged Daniel truly had found a back door to the Committees central data system. She felt a stab of pride and admiration for his cleverness.
    Lily stared at the directory page, trying to figure out what it meant. A lot of it was incomprehensible technical and scientific jargon. Lily pressed her fingers to her forehead, forcing herself to concentrate.
    She ran the cursor slowly down the index, passing over obscure listings about ‘Fresh commodities’, ‘Centres for Scientific Rejuvenation 1–4’, ‘Geothermal Capabilities’, ‘Indicators for the Effective Application of Testosterone, Oestrogen, Pregnenolone, DHEA, Progesterone, Cortisol, Melatonin, Insulin’, ‘Expanded Scientific Formulae’, ‘Enhanced Immune Function, Rapid Wound Healing and Greater Endurance in Subjects’. She banged the desk, frustrated. What the hell did it all mean?
    But then, two thirds of the way down the index, Lily struck gold. She clicked on a heading that linked to an article titled, ‘Case study: Harvesting’ and quickly scanned the first few lines. It was a case