62 dragged his heels as he followed Trainer back down the stairs. His shoulders slouched more from embarrassment than fatigue. Trainer jogged down to the arena floor quickly, meeting the first Boy in the group of runners. He held his hand up to stop the flow of the group and soon the Man was surrounded by bobbing heads and waving arms as the trainees began a cooldown stretch.
Trainer was halfway through a pep talk by the time 62 made it within earshot.
“... Not one of you stopped to make sure that your brother was all right.” Trainer moved his gaze slowly over the flushed cheeks of his subordinates.
One of the Boys smirked at 62. “We're not really supposed to slow down for him are we?”
Trainer extended his arm and waved his hand to beckon 62 forward. He smiled at 62 when he was within arm's reach and placed an arm around his slim shoulders. “This is a tricky lesson to learn. If you were a Machine, then I would say to absolutely keep on going.”
With his free hand, Trainer reached forward and pinched the arm of the Boy who'd made the snarky remark. The Boy yelped at the sharp pain. “Since we’re not Machines, we have a responsibility to take care of one another. This will be especially important for any of you who move on to Defense and Maintenance. There is an immense amount of time, energy and supplies invested to train and keep us alive. Losing one Man is costly for the whole Community. When you’re working, if your brother falls and you fail to pick him up and return him safely home to his pod, you are responsible for his loss.”
Trainer's words hung in the air. A cloud of emotion passed over his face and in a gravelly voice he added, “Believe me, the loss of a brother is not a debt you want to have to repay.” The solemn expression only lasted a moment. Trainer soon smiled again. “Now, everyone get hydrated. We're going to take five more minutes to catch our breaths, and then we're heading to the high jump.”
The Boys dispersed, each heading to his own pile of towels and hydration packs. 62 wanted to ask Trainer more about what he meant when he talked about owing Adaline for the debt of a fallen brother. But when he turned to ask, Trainer pulled his arm from 62's shoulders and jogged off the field and out of sight.
CHAPTER 24
62 COLLAPSED ONTO HIS bed. The last few training sessions had taken every ounce of his energy and he was glad that Trainer had given them the next two cycles off to rest. His tired muscles sank into the soft blankets. He didn't even have the energy to change into a clean tunic before drifting off to sleep.
As soon as the real world faded away, it was replaced by a vision of the arena. 62 stood alone in the vast space. His muscles flexed, ribbons of strength beneath his skin. Without a thought to the pain he’d suffered from when awake, 62 took off running. He leaped over abandoned exercise equipment, bounded up the stairs and was about to sprint across the upper track when he heard hands clapping from the bleachers below. Without fear of losing his balance, 62 skidded to a stop and beamed at 71.
“You are a vision of athletic performance!” 71 shouted across the space. 62 jumped in the air and flew across the arena on an invisible current, landing softly at 71's feet.
“It's a lot easier when you can just imagine that you’re the best at everything.” 62 sat down in the seat beside 71, his breath calm and steady.
“Of course. If only the rest of Adaline were so simple. Perhaps we wouldn't have so many problems.” 71 pondered his own words while 62 pressed his hands together and created a cold hydration pouch out of thin air. “Of course, if everyone could create exactly what they wanted, maybe there would be even more annoyances to deal with.”
“If you could have anything that you wanted, what would it be?”
“More time to sleep. The possibilities are endless in here.” 71 tapped his temple with his forefinger. “Fewer Machines around telling me what I should pay attention to.”
62 nodded. He looked at his former teacher and sputtered, “Well, Blue seems like he doesn't have any Machines telling him what to do.”
71 squinted, eyebrows knitting on his forehead. “Oh, his name is Blue now? What do you know of this Blue Boy and his interaction with Machines?”
“Well I think if any of the Transportation Aides could boss him around, they’d keep him out of the supply areas. I don’t think they're helping him to steal uniforms.”
71 sat up straight and smacked his knee with his hand, causing 62 to jump in surprise. “Blasted bolts! What did I tell you about getting involved with that Boy?”
“It's not like I went looking for him. He just showed up. Afterward, a Man came and asked me about some missing uniforms.” 62 couldn't help his mischievous grin. “I don't know what division the Man works for, but Blue sure makes him mad.”
“What do you mean, the Boy showed up?” 71 wore a grim expression that made 62 rub the back of his neck nervously.
“I was in my cube. I wasn't doing anything wrong, just resting like I was supposed to. I heard a weird sound and before I knew it the fog vent was loose.” 62 looked at 71 with innocent eyes. “I didn't know anything about it. He just did it. We talked a while through the vent and then he left. That's it, honest.”
“Did anyone see you together?”
62's hair flopped across his brow when he shook his head. “Everyone else was in training. The PTS wasn't there.”
“And the Man? Who is he?” 71 leaned forward so far in his chair that if they weren't both dreaming, he'd probably fall out of it.
62 lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “He wouldn’t tell me either of the times he came to talk to me. If he comes back, I’ll ask him again.”
“He's been to see you twice?”
“Yes. He brings a microphone and records what I say.”
71's features went flat, his expression hard to read. He covered his mouth with his hand, gnawing on a finger while he thought. After a moment, he sat back in his chair. “This is bad, Brother. If they think the two of you are in cahoots, this is very bad.” 71 turned to face 62. “But how did the Boy find you?”
“Well, my cube isn't that far from the door where he first saw me with the PTS.” 62 thought back some more. “And when 42 changed my chip on the Transport, he said a bluebird told him that’s where I would be.”
71's eyes squinted. “42. You sneaky little...”
71 reached forward and ripped open a seam in the dream. On the other side was a perfect replica of 42's lab, sterile and pristine. 42 puttered away on an experiment in the center of the lab, humming to himself while he worked. 62 always thought it funny that while 71 insisted on creating exotic surroundings, 42 tended to stick with the equipment that he was so intimately familiar with.
42 looked up and smiled. “Hello. I wasn't expecting any visitors. Come in.”
“I can't believe you!” 71 barged into the dream, fist pumping in the air. “First, you change the Boy's chip without consulting me, and now I discover you worked with those blasted Others to do it? Do you have any concept of what you've done?”
42's face fell and his hands went up in surrender. “What are you talking about?” 62 followed 71 into the dream. When 42 saw him slip through the opening, his face fell. “Oh, I see. Hello, 62.”
71 marched to the nearest desk. He picked up a glass vial filled with purple liquid and hurled it to the ground. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, liquid shimmering as it spread out across the floor. As soon as the mess settled, the glass reassembled itself, the liquid returned, and the whole vial placed itself back on the desktop. 71 glared at the doctor. “You are so infuriating!”
42 lowered his hands and nodded. “I hear that more and more.”
“That Boy has kept in contact with 62. And now Defense thinks that he's helping them steal supplies. How could you tell that criminal where 62 sleeps?”
“I'd hardly call him a criminal.” 42 shook his head. “He's looking out for his own best interests, the same as you and me. So what if we help each other out a bit now and then? His talents make a lot of things more convenient.”
&n
bsp; 71 gave a sarcastic nod. “Oh sure, more convenient. Skulking around in dark corners, walking through transport tunnels. You must enjoy pretending you're one of them. You've gone mad, Brother.”
62 struggled to keep up with the elder Men's argument. “You think that Man is from Defense?” Both teacher and doctor looked over to 62 with annoyance at the interruption.
“Did he tell you where he was from? Show you any kind of proof of who he was?” 71 spat the words out.
“No.” 62 answered in a quiet voice.
“Defense.” The Men echoed one another. Each gave a curt nod and crossed their forearms in synchronized annoyance.
“He said there could be a job for a Boy like me.” 62 said, eyes growing wide. “A whole career lined out for Boys who could get information.”
71 perked up. “He did? You didn't mention that before. Oh, that would be a silver lining. A job in Defense could be a wonderful thing.”
42 glowered. “Wonderful for who? The programmers in the Community? The Head Machine and its incessant need for biocide? Sure. Send 62 to work for them. They'll get him all set up with his own private pod and give him permission to murder whoever he sees fit.” 42 flapped his hands and raised his voice like a madman. “What a wonderful career for your little prodigy.”
“He could help us from within Defense.” 71 pointed a long finger at 62 as he glared at his brother. “Bring fairness back to Adaline and end the hunt for anomalies. As he worked his way up the ranks, 62 might be able to make a real difference. Bring things back to the way they were before.”
62's eyes bounced from one Man to the other. “What's biocide? What were things like before?” Both Men fell silent. 62 turned his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Well?”
42 was the first to answer. “Biocide is something that we only talk about in the privacy of our minds. It's what we call it when the Machines remove humans from Adaline. When we are destroyed because we're imperfect.”
The teacher shook his head. “It's a disgusting term that shouldn't be used at all. Yes, there are flaws in the selection process. But with new leadership in place the selection process could improve. Go back to when the only anomalies that were removed were those visible to the naked eye.”
“You think 62 is going to make a dent in the system in our lifetime? You've seen what they do to the Boys in Defense. Those children go into training wide-eyed and full of life. But that's not how they stay. They’re brainwashed. Damaged by power without restraint. They'll train our young friend to attack us.” 42 shook his head. “And this idea that it’s acceptable to destroy the Boys that have something visibly wrong. An anomaly that can be seen isn't any more dangerous than one that is hidden. Those Boys could learn to live among us and serve the Community, no matter how many fingers they have or what color their eyes are.”
“The documents from Father clearly state that we are to be identical. Physically indistinguishable in every way. I can't fault the Head Machine for taking its instructions so literally. Who knows what kind of chaos could be wrought with that kind of distraction? Blonde hair, green eyes; it would be our undoing.” 71 began to pace, his feet falling heavy on the hard floor.
“They're still human!” 42 boomed. He pounded his desk with his fist, causing the glass vials and steel instruments to chatter across the desktop.
The Men cursed at each other, pointed identical boney fingers at one another and puffed out matching chests. Nothing that either Man said made any sense to 62, and the argument became so heated that he didn’t dare enter the discussion again. Although 62 still hadn't learned how to make himself transparent in dreams, the adults before him made him feel invisible.
CHAPTER 25
62 STARED AT THE CEILING between his latticed fingers. He knew that it was late enough that he had to look like he was asleep, but he didn't dare close his eyes for fear that he would be caught in another debate between 71 and 42. There were only a few hours left of the rest cycles that Trainer had prescribed for the trainees, and 62 couldn't wait for them to be over.
His feet itched beneath the sheets, waiting for the opportunity to run full speed across the spongy floor of the arena. His ears ached in the darkness to hear the rush of wind that would come from stampeding down the stairs with the other Boys. The exercise was hard. Excruciatingly painful at times. But the movement provided relief from the thoughts that rattled around his mind when he was alone.
No matter how hard 62 tried to forget about Blue, something would happen to sling the strange Boy back into his thoughts. 71 warned that he was a dangerous menace. 42 treated him as an accomplice in a secret mission. The intruding Man with all of the questions seemed to think of Blue as a criminal. 62 didn't know which opinion to agree with. To him, Blue seemed like any other Boy. At least, when his eyelids closed over his startling blue eyes.
62 turned his head and strained to hear the PTS moving outside. The quiet whir and hiss of the Machine's mechanics were amplified in the darkness. 62 concentrated on his breathing, making sure that it came out steady and even at a pace consistent with sleep.
A tired yawn fought through 62's practiced breathing and he heard the Machine pause its patrol. The two listened to one another for several minutes before the PTS gave up the silent duel and returned to its work. 62 wondered if the PTS ever wanted to do something more than pace the pod in the quiet rest hours. Could a Machine want things? 42 had somehow corrupted his Nurse enough to have its own opinions. Perhaps the intelligence of a thing could be pushed until it needed more than a task to complete and a place to recharge.
As 62 thought about programming a Machine to have emotions, a tapping noise emerged from behind the wall at the foot of his bed. He unlaced his fingers and moved them from his face to the back of his head, propping himself up to see through the fog vent where a light shimmered and dimmed behind the panel. A tinkering could be heard from somewhere beyond the vent.
“This it?” A Man's voice whispered low. 62 didn't hear a response, but the Man answered anyway. “You sure this kid can be trusted?”
62 eased back onto his pillow. If the voice belonged to the Man from Defense, he didn't want to let on that he was awake. 62 wasn't ready to have another conversation with him or his recorder just yet.
“How'd you pick him out?” The Man's voice faded behind a rustling of fabric. The top of a head shone in the dull light he carried.
“That lab coat upstairs had me track him a while ago.” Blue whispered against the vent. 62 could just make his face out as he peered into the room. “They updated his chip. Made him more normal, I guess.”
The sound of heavy fabric brushing against metal returned, and another head pushed toward the vent. The light hovering behind the grating painted a pattern of diamonds across 62's ceiling. He couldn't decide which he hoped for more: that Blue and his companion would move along before the PTS came back to check on him again, or that they'd stay so that he could hear more of their conversation.
“Normal.” The Man grumbled quietly and turned away. “We've got enough normal around here.”
“I saw him turn off a Machine.”
The light intensified in the grating and the larger of the two heads pushed its neighbor aside. The Man's curiosity overwhelmed his need to stay hidden. His round eyes bulged through the vent as he looked down at 62. “That kid turned off a bot? Impossible. You know those things ain't got an off switch.”
“He did.” Blue's voice hissed. “I saw it. He overloaded its program settings and it shut down. Jammed a doorway open. He could'a run away lickity split if he wanted to.”
“But he didn't.” The Man turned away from the vent again. The light dimmed and turned black as the duct behind the grating was replaced. Footsteps trailed off beyond the wall. The Man’s voice came through in a far-off whisper. “Doesn't sound all that smart, if you ask me.”
CHAPTER 26
62 WASN'T USED TO HEARING someone say he wasn't smart. The words gripped him a little tighter with each breath until his ch
est hurt and there was a sting of tears behind his eyes. 62 wasn't dumb. The Man that Blue was talking to was just mean. He didn't know that 62 had even scores on all of his aptitude tests, or that he knew how to dream. He might even be offered a career in some kind of secret program. That meant he had to be smart, didn't it?
He rolled over in bed, pulling the covers over his head and shrinking into the dark. The Man thought that he was dumb for not running away when the PTS shut down. That, thought 62, is stupid. The idea of running from the PTS that cared for him was crazy. Who would even think of that?
Then, he remembered. Back when he was in C.A.T. there had been a Boy who ran away. Normally, Boys weren't able to wander anywhere in Adaline without permission. The only time a door unlocked for you was at the exact time you were allowed to go through it. But 1125000 discovered the code to open doors. He'd left his cube in the middle of the night and hadn't been caught by the Nurses until he’d made it outside of the pod. 00 never came back and 62 had always thought he'd been taken away to be punished. But 62 only thought that 00 had been caught by the Nurses because that’s what he'd been told. What if 00 had disappeared because he learned to walk between walls like Blue?
62 felt a shiver climb his spine. If a Boy was going to run away, what was there to run away to?
He rolled again, burying his face deeper into the soft threads of his blanket. He slowed his breathing and relaxed his body, starting with his toes. He unwound his muscles one by one until even his nose felt relaxed. A few more measured breaths and he could feel the tingle of sleep enveloping him. Light crept from deep in his mind and a slow falling sensation pulled him into a dream.
He opened his eyes to find himself sitting in a stark, white, empty room.
The Adaline Series Bundle 1 Page 28
