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“What’s even the point of all this?! Why did you even send me down here?!” Simon interrogated Ava in frustration.
“Because we had to!” Ava exclaimed for the fifth time, getting extremely tired.
“Really? Because it doesn’t exactly feel like it!” Simon bickered as he crossed his arms across his chest.
What would you rather have me do, Simon? Huh? What should I have done instead?!” Ava snarked back, exasperated.
“Well definitely not this!” Simon gestured all around the Iron Lung, not caring if Ava couldn’t see him.
Ava began to massage her forehead. “I can’t believe you,” she grumbled, losing her patience, “Why do you insist on acting so selfish all the time?”
Simon growled. “Yeah, well it’s a little bit hard to be selfless and noble when it feels like everyone has it out for you all the time!” he shouted in an almost mocking tone.
“Believe it or not, this isn’t a punishment, Simon,” Ava finally snapped, raising her voice as she spoke, “We just don't have anyone else we can sacrifice. There are hundreds of other people the COI needs to focus on, and they are more important than you right now! You're not exactly a priority here!”
“I KNOW! THAT’S EXACTLY WHY I’M ANGRY! I’VE NEVER BEEN A PRIORITY! I’M THE OPPOSITE OF A PRIORITY!” Simon screamed, tears in his eyes, but his shouting quickly turned into a sob.
“It's not even that I'm not important. It's that I'm the least important,” he said, now more quiet and tearful. “First to be sacrificed, last to be saved. I'm basically an afterthought.” Simon let out a wet laugh, and ran his hands down his face.
“You say that there are hundreds of people that need to be focused on. I've never been included in that,” he explained as he backed up against the wall and slid down to the floor with a thump.
“When there are people who need to be fed, I'm not counted as one of them even when I'm starving. When there are lots of people who need healing, I'm not counted as one of them even if I'm bleeding out. When there are people who need protection, I'm not counted as one of them even if I'm the most in danger. On a list of most to least valuable lives, I'm either at the bottom or not even on the list at all,” Simon ranted, unsure when Ava had gone silent, but he went on anyway.
“I barely remember what it's like to be treated like an actual person. Maybe that's why I'm not included.” He paused for a moment, staring at a bolt in the floor and fiddling with his sleeve.
“The sick, the disabled, the elderly, the convicts, all of us are the ones who are left to die,” Simon stated bluntly, remembering the way things worked on Eden. The way things worked during other, pre-Rapture disasters. “But at least for the other three, people will feel empathy towards them when something happens,” he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice aimed at those who were selective in their compassion.
“If an innocent elderly person were in this thing,” Simon banged his fist against the metal wall a few times for emphasis, “then everyone would be horrified and protest against it. But convicts?” Simon shrugged. “Well, you already know. Nobody even bothers to know our names, because to them, we basically don't have any.” It was a clearly pointed remark, but not completely unfair.
“Everyone treats us like trash, like we are subhuman. Just this constant feeling of dehumanization and condescension.” Simon finally looked back up at the speaker again. “And then you guys get mad at me for being upset and angry and scared. Hell, that's why we're arguing right now. I don't have the right to be frustrated because to everyone up there, I deserve it.”
“I’m not saying you deserve it,” Ava’s voice crackled through the speaker for the first time since Simon started venting, “I just-”
“I’m not sure what’s worse, to be honest,” Simon continued on, ignoring her completely, “the idea that I’m here as a sick and fucked up punishment, or that I’m just here because it’s convenient and I’m disposable to you people.”
“I told you, that’s not what-”
“Ava, if there weren't any convicts to send down, would anyone get sent down at this point?” Simon asked straight out, though he deep down had a strong feeling what the answer would be.
“…”
The radio was silent besides a quiet shuffling sound like a person shifting in their seat.
Simon hummed at this, nodding his head once at the unspoken response. But before he could open his mouth again, the radio crackled back to life. “Yes, though I’m not sure if that would be up to me,” Ava finally replied.
Simon stared at the radio for a moment, expressionless.
“Who would you send down, then?” He asked.
“……I don’t know,” she answered softly.
Simon gave a small, bitter smirk, a petty little part of him smug about being proven right. Still, he felt no true satisfaction, and sighed reluctantly.
“I can’t fully blame you, I guess. I wouldn’t want to send down innocent people, either,” he admitted, “I guess someone like me would be the easiest to justify. So maybe it is true. Maybe convicts are at the bottom for a reason. Maybe I really am the least valuable or worth keeping.” Simon started to choke up, his fists curling into balls.
“But it still hurts to know that,” he croaked out. “It still hurts to know that you are at the bottom. That nobody sees you as being worth thinking about. That your life matters the least out of everyone. That you are inherently lesser. That being sacrificed to an agonizing death against your will will be deemed worth it because compared to everyone else, you are nothing.”
Rivers of tears were flowing down his face again, though he no longer had enough energy or fire left in him to properly start sobbing like before. His next words were soft and quiet, just a little bit above a whisper. Barely loud enough for Ava to hear on the other end, though the sentiment itself rang clear to her.
“It still hurts to know that you are considered expendable.”
Both parties sat in silence, the only sounds coming from the rumbling and humming of the Iron Lung, an ominous undertone that emphasized the weight of the situation. While it may not have been a punishment, it was certainly cruel and unusual.
And yet it was something you couldn’t truly take back, could you? Even if Ava wanted to undo it, Simon was right. The C.O.I. would still see him as merely a tool for something bigger. In trying to keep humanity alive, they had begun to throw it away. The kindness and empathy of humanity. The humanity of their enemies. They had focused on the physical survival of humans rather than the spirit.
But despite her cold demeanor, Ava had always been an optimist. Unlike those she had lost, she could still bring her humanity back to life. And that started with acknowledging his.
“You aren’t expendable, Simon,” Ava eventually whispered.
Simon stared at the glowing button of the camera, the cause of Ava’s own unintended death sentence.
“Nobody is.”