Had he just raped Number Five? What the hell was wrong with him? He was an emotional mess. He was acting like an animal, being driven by his emotions with an intensity that he could not control. Lust, anger, sadness, joy, and now guilt were all threatening to consume him. He had to get control over himself. Should he just start drinking breakfast again?

That night while they sat on their bed, waiting for fifth chime, Number Eight was contemplating how to try and explain what he was going through to Number Seven. She just sat still and stared at the wall in front of her. He reached out and took her hand.

"Are we going to make love again?" she asked, and started to lie back on the bed.

"No. No, I want to talk," he replied.

"We are talking," she simply stated.

"Look. I'm planning on leaving the pod," he began. "Will you go with me?"

"Go?" she said, "There is nowhere to go. You are changing."

"Yes. Yes I am," he answered, getting an idea. "Do you want to understand what I am going through? Will you help me?"

"Of course," she answered. "You are my partner."

"Good then. If you want to understand and help me, I need you to skip breakfast tomorrow," he said. "I need you to switch your full cup with the empty cup of whoever sits across from you. Can you do that for me?"

"Will that help you?" she asked, squeezing his hand.

"Yes, if you don't drink your breakfast, that will help me," he affirmed.

"Okay. I will not drink my breakfast tomorrow to help you." She smiled at him.

He leaned in and gave her a soft kiss, then the chime sounded. Seconds later they were asleep. Loud bangs and booms broke into his peaceful slumber. Gun shots, artillery, and flashes all flooded out of his subconscious. Then a helicopter flew by overhead.

Next came the young face, screaming into his, "Corporal Dat, run! They are coming."

Number Eight sat straight up in his bed, sweat covering his body. The words under his arm were a meat tag, worn by members of the military. They bore the same information that was on the standard issue dog tags. These were worn to help identify the body in case of death in combat.

He was Dat. Daniel Allen Taylor. With that memory, all the rest came flooding back in. He had been a corporal in the United States Marines when they had arrived. It had been 2032, when the invaders had taken the entire planet in twelve short hours. They had smashed through satellite, radar, and encrypted technology the first hour, shutting down every nation's defenses.

Some remnants of the US Marine forces station at the destroyed Camp Pendleton base had been hiding in the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, where the Dodgers, Raiders, and the Bruins had once played. That evening, the enemy ripped the roof off and descended upon them.

An overseer had pointed the baton that they always carried on their side at him. He unloaded his service 9mm into its face, with no effect. The overseer had fired some type of energy beam at him and a green circle formed around him.  One second, he had been standing on the green grass of the stadium, and the next he was standing in a large glass room filled with hundreds of people.

The next two days had been awful. They had stood shoulder to shoulder, naked and packed in tight like sardines. People had started to urinate and defecate on themselves. They would fall asleep on their feet, leaning against the bodies surrounding them. People would cry and some would scream out. 

The only other thing in the large glass box were tubes hanging from the ceiling. Hundreds of them. Water sprayed out of them every four hours, cleaning them off, which quickly disappeared into small drains covering the expansive floor.

The worst was the hunger. They could drink every few hours, but there was no food. Then someone got the idea to suck on the hose. He could hear others exclaiming that it was food. The more people who partook of the hose food, the quieter the glass box became. He held out for another full day, before he had to eat.

He could remember grabbing the hose and putting it to his lips. He sucked cautiously, and had been rewarded with the fruity white liquid with the tart taste. He could remember sucking from the hose several times the following day, then nothing. He couldn't remember what had happened after that. It was like his memories started fresh, about six or seven years ago, in the orchard pod.

He had one more strong memory from his past. He was almost too afraid to entertain it. Andrea. He had been married and they had two kids. Four-year-old Adrian and two-year-old Alesia. Andrea had been the love of his life. She was a petite blond that he had called ‘Tinker Bell', because she greatly resembled the Disney character. He would not allow himself to think about where they were now.

"You are changing," Number Seven said from the bed beside him, causing him to realize that he must have woken her.

"Just remember to skip your breakfast. That will help me," he reiterated.

The first chime sounded. He climbed on top of Number Seven, realizing while they had sex that although he didn't love her, he did care deeply about her. They had been together for over six years now, and his real family was most likely gone. She was the closest thing to family that he had left. He planned to lay low, and carefully plan out his next move. When second chime sounded, they slipped on their canvas shoes and headed to the dining module.

Once again, they were the last couple there. Of course, he thought, when he saw that the only available table was with Number Five and Number Six. He hesitantly sat down across from the older male, glancing over at Number Five, who was staring down at the cup between her hands. 

Number Seven looked at him and drank down her breakfast, then took his cup and drank it. Her eyes took on the glazed look while she reached over and took his hand in hers. He shook his head, realizing that she was never going to understand what was going on.

"I understand that you made love to my partner." Number Six said.

Number Seven immediately released his hand, with a hurt look upon her face. Number Eight clenched his fists, expecting a fight with Number Six. Number Five glanced up at him, and when their eyes connected, she quickly looked back down.

"Number Seven is your partner. Number Five is my partner. You make love to Number Seven, not number Five. I'm glad that we worked this out," he said, and then drank down his white fruity drink, causing his eyes to glaze. "My, what a lovely day we are having today. I hope it doesn't rain."

"What the hell?" Number Eight responded. "I slept with your woman and all you are going to say is what a lovely day?"

The third chime sounded, causing the trio at his table to rise, with Number Six stating, "Time for work. We have a lot of apples to pick."

Later that day, Number Eight entered the apple shed and saw Number Five filling burlap sacks. She had her red hair up and looked exquisite. When she saw him, she started to go, but then stopped. She turned back and stared at him with her electric blue eyes.

"What did you do to me?" she asked.

"I know it was wrong," he said. "I am going through some . . . changes."

"No, I mean you did something to me," she repeated. "I have never given you a second thought before yesterday. Now I can't stop thinking about you. Your deep blue eyes. Your rippling muscles. Your face. I don't understand. What did you do to me. It's been so long since a man has looked at me with such . . . passion."

He leaned in and kissed her pouty red lips. She let him for a moment, then put her hands on his chest and pushed him back, biting her lower lip. He took a step back towards her, wanting more. Much more.

"No, I am Number Five," she said.

"I am Daniel Allen Taylor," he answered.

"I don't understand," she stated, clearly confused.

"Look. If you want to understand everything, stop drinking that crap that they give you for breakfast. Then come talk to me. That drink somehow makes you forget your past, and mind-numbs you. It messes with your memories. If you keep drinking that stuff, then don't bother me again,” he said and walked out of the shed, upset at how turned on she had made him, yet it was a victory as he had managed to control himself.

He worked hard the rest of the day, with only a couple of incidents. He noted that the ladders provided to pick apples from the tops of the trees would also allow him to climb over the smooth white eight-foot walls that ringed the orchard pod. It was the beginnings of a plan.

At well past noon, he had consumed seven of the delicious apples, and had stacked the cores in a pile. For some reason, the pile of apple cores struck him as funny. A smirk turned into a giggle, followed by a laugh. Finally, he was rolling in the dirt, belly laughing, with tears running down his face.

Once the emotional tidal wave had passed, he sat up and saw Number Twelve staring at him. The curly brown hair middle-aged man had a look of fear on his face. Daniel simple growled at the man, who scurried away. This caused another outburst of uncontrollable laughter that lasted a few more minutes. By the time he had finished, his sides hurt.

About an hour later, he took another basket of apples to the storage shed. When he walked in, he saw Number Six standing there with his arm around Number Five's waist. He gave them an angry scowl and stormed out of the shed. Once he retreated to the far end of the grove, he took his jealousy out on the first thing that he could find.

He punched, kicked, crushed, smashed, and pummeled a stack of the wooden collecting baskets, until they were no more than a pile of rubbish. He stood there panting from the exertion, his mind racing with hatred for Number Six. He just knew that he was climbing on top of her at first chime every morning, Number Six didn't deserve Number Five. She was his!

It took several minutes for the intense jealousy to subside. It left him feeling quite foolish, and exhausted. He sat down with his back against the smooth white wall and drifted off to sleep. When fourth chime sounded, it woke him up. He noticed that he had bloody knuckles from his earlier rounds with the collection baskets.

I'm going absolutely crazy," he mumbled to himself.

 After tossing the smashed pieces of baskets over the wall, he made his way back out of the apple orchard. When he passed by the two overseers, one turned its head and watched him.

"What are you looking at?" he scowled, and kept walking.

When Daniel entered his home module, Number Seven was sitting on the end of the bed, staring at the wall.

"I thought you were going to help me and skip the breakfast drink." He stared at her.

"You are changing," she said.

"No shit," he answered, raising his voice. "You would understand if you skipped breakfast."

"Why would I?" she asked, a slight quiver in her voice.

"To help me!" he shouted.

"Lower your voice or the overseers will come and take you for a checkup," she warned, her lips now trembling.

"Don't drink the breakfast drink tomorrow," he demanded. Happy that she was finally seeing some type of emotion from the woman.

"I will drink it," she said, "I don't want to change. I like it here. I like our life together. I don't want that to change. I don't want to lose you."

He stared at her, then came over and sat down on the bed beside her, wiping a single tear that ran down her cheek. There was no use he thought. She was already lost in this fake reality, and didn't want to come out.

"It's okay." He hugged her close. "Tomorrow you will drink your breakfast, and after your eyes glaze over, you will be back to your happy self." He caressed her and tended to her for several minutes, overcome with strong feelings of sympathy. After fifth chime, they were asleep in seconds.

He had an intense dream that night, but this time there were no explosions, lights, or screaming. He dreamed of his former wife Andrea. Her beautiful face. Her tender ways and mannerisms, her incredible laugh. The dream felt so very real.

At first chime, Number Seven rolled over and made herself available to him, but he simply got out of bed and jumped in the shower. He couldn't make love to another woman with the images of Andrea so fresh in his head. When second chime sounded, they slipped on their canvas shoes and headed out to the dining module.

Once they had their fruity drinks, they sat down next to Number Two and a woman that Daniel didn't recognize. She was a short petite blond with light blue eyes, but she was not Number One. Daniel stared at her hard, thinking that she looked a lot like his former wife Andrea. The bone structure, the body shape, and the hair style. Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

"Look who is back from vacation." Number Two smiled broadly.

"Welcome back Number One," Number Seven said, drinking her breakfast.

"That's not Number One," Daniel advised, switching his full cup with Number Seven's empty one, almost subconsciously now.

"Stop it Number Eight. You have known my partner for years," the muscular black man said, the smile leaving his face.

Daniel thought it best to go along for now, and said, "I was just making a little joke."

"Oh, that is a good one," Number Two answered, the big smile returning to his face.

"How was your vacation, Number One?" Daniel asked, curious what the new woman would say.

"It was wonderful," she answered, with even her voice sounding like Andrea's. "The weather was very nice."

"I bet it was." Daniel smirked.

"What do you mean, Number Eight?" Number Two questioned.

"Oh, nothing," he said, glad to hear third chime.

Not one time during breakfast did he bother to look over at Number Five. He worked hard the first half of the day, and tried even harder not to have any emotional outbursts. He had a weak moment when he found a dead mouse under one of the full apple baskets, and nearly burst into tears as sadness threatened to overtake him.

"It's just a mouse. It's just a mouse," he kept telling himself, until he finally managed to hold off the crying fit.

"Can I talk to you?" Number Five managed to find him at noon.

He immediately noticed that the top three buttons on her brown shirt were unbuttoned, and she was showing a lot of cleavage. He bit his tongue hard, fighting off his urges. Daniel climbed down the ladder he was on and walked away from the beautiful redhead. It took every ounce of strength that he had not to look back at her.

By fourth chime, he was pretty proud of himself. He had managed to control himself and had no outbursts that day, although it had left him feeling very frustrated.  He did do a lot of thinking about the new Number One.

The overseers were obviously taking the pregnant women and keeping them and their babies. For what purpose, he did not know. Then they sent in replacement women, and somehow, everybody just accepted the new partner. Every time he learned something new about his situation, he just became more confused.

Daniel sat on the edge of his bed beside Number Seven and thought about his options. He needed to get someone to stop drinking the white substance, but who, and how? Number Seven was out. She was content to be a mind-numbed zombie. Maybe he could start switching other people's drinks as well? He decided to watch for an opportunity. Then fifth chime sounded.

Andrea came back in his dreams. This time it was not about her tender ways, although the dream was equally as real. The vivid dream was about her passionate side, starting out with kisses and caresses. Then he was on top of her, giving it to her good, which lasted for several minutes.

Once he finished, he realized that something wasn't right. He was on top of somebody, with his hand over her mouth. There was a stream of bright moonlight coming through the open door to the home module, only it wasn't his home module. He could make out Number One's blue eyes staring up at him, and could feel her hot breath against the palm of his hand, her breathing heavy with the exertion and from him blocking her airway.

He immediately looked over to the other side of the bed at Number Two, who was still in a heavy slumber. The muscular black man was slightly snoring with his mouth wide open. Daniel climbed off the woman, realizing that he was completely naked, and without any shoes.

"I am Number One," she said.

"You're dreaming," he answered and made his way to the open door.

"Oh. Okay. That makes more sense, because you are not Number Two." The petite blond rolled over and closed her eyes.

Daniel closed the module door and started to make his way back to his own home, when he saw bright lights coming from the orchard. Curiosity got the better of him, and thanks to a full moon, he could see that the two overseers were not at the command module.

He made his way to the corner of the command module and peeked around it into the orchard half of the pod. What he saw startled him. They were at least a half dozen overseers, loading the burlap sacks full of apples into a round vehicle that hovered two feet off the ground. A second hover craft waited behind that one for loading. Both had soft blue lights coming from underneath them, but were quiet.

There was a third one of the hovering vehicles, loaded with full burlap sacks heading straight for the back of the orchard. That vehicle let off a slight hum as it moved. The overseer driving the hovercraft pushed a button on the console and an entire section of the white wall turned into a glowing green circle of some type. The vehicle floated right into the big power circle and with a fizzling sound, disappeared!

Daniel turned to go, but noticed that the door into the command module had been left slightly ajar. He looked back at the remaining hover cars and saw that the overseers were still loading the second vehicle. He took a deep breath, and stepped inside the command module.

It was the first time that he had ever entered the command module unescorted. He came in through the only apparent entryway. He always found it odd that there were no chairs, although everything else appeared to be the same. Computers, screens, buttons, and the glass sliding doors that led into the small room with the exam table were all in place. That is, except for the elongated pod in the center of the room. It was about eight feet long and maybe two feet wide.

Daniel noticed that the capsule had the same light blue glow coming from underneath it and was hovering about a foot off the ground. He curiously walked up to the box and observed that the top half was covered in glass. There was a slight foggy layer covering the entire see-through section.

Daniel placed his hand on the glass and immediately felt that it was cold. There seemed to be a blue glow coming from inside of the capsule as well. He cautiously wiped off a small section of the surface and saw a face staring up at him in the dim blue light. Daniel ran from the building, not stopping for anything until he reached the safety of his own home module.

Once he crawled back into bed with Number Seven, it took him a very long time to fall asleep. He couldn't get the horrible image of what he had seen out of his mind. It was the frozen face of the original Number One, the blond woman's eyes wide open with a look of pure terror on her face.