“The truth about what?” 62 finally whispered. His eyes locked onto Blue's, searching for answers to questions he didn't know to ask.
Blue's eyes darted to the door. “The truth about where I live. It's hard for a lot of you Undergrounds to get. Sometimes knowing what’s out there makes you crazy.” Blue laughed a little too loud and covered his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound. “Look at me. I know the truth and I still come back here anyway, like it’s my home.”
“You're from here?” 62 pointed over his shoulder to the common area. “From T.A.S.K.?”
“No, dummy. Here, as in Adaline. I ain't lived down here for a long time. Not since the bots first saw my eyes. Long enough to know being trapped down here ain’t right. The rest of 'em are smart enough to stay put. But not me.” Blue pushed his fingers through his hair. The short strands stood on end, making the Boy look suddenly, terrifyingly, insane.
62's face scrunched. His brain ached. “You... don't live in Adaline?”
Blue laughed again. “That's the look! Happens every dustin' time.”
“There isn't anything except Adaline,” 62 stated. He was sure that was the truth. It's what he'd been taught since he could understand words. It's what 71 had reinforced. It's all there was. He was positive. Mostly positive.
Blue leaned forward, his face pushing past the shadows cast by the lines of the vent cover. He looked wicked and wild with bright eyes and gleaming teeth. “That ain't exactly right,” he crooned. “There's a whole other place. Outside this one.”
62 felt the world split. A thin crack formed between what he knew was true and what might not be. Adaline was all there was. But then, he thought back to his time in the classroom. 71 had shown them a picture of the world. Of Adaline. It was square and boxy, sitting alone in the photo. There hadn't been anything else. But wait – there had been something. Poa pratensis had been in the picture, too. Growing in tufts around Adaline's base. There was a sign posted outside. Outside. The sign was in front of Adaline's boundaries. The sign's feet were planted in the leafy stalks. 62's breath quickened. His pulse rang in his ears. He looked at the wild-eyed Boy leaning through the vent in his wall with new eyes.
“71 says there’s no way to live outside Adaline. That everything outside is dead,” 62 whispered.
Blue held up a finger. “The doc said to bring this to you. Said you'd know what it was. I ain't met a Boy down here who'd know it, though. It won’t grow down here under the lights. You gotta be out in the open where it can see the sky. Then the darn stuff is everywhere.”
Blue's voice continued on, but he ducked back into the vent and his words became fast and garbled. 62 couldn't wait to see. He scrambled to his feet, standing on the edge of his bed. It was against the rules, and the PTS was due any minute. But it didn't matter. He had to know.
Blue returned to the opening. He held something in his fist, but it was hard to see it in the dark shadows of the space beyond the vent. 62 reached out for whatever was peeking out from between his fingers. Blue dropped it and 62 watched it fall slowly through the air into his open palm. It was lighter than he thought it would be, weighing less than a cable of the same size would. It was soft and flat when 62 squeezed his own hand around it.
Blue watched in silence as 62 brought his hand near his face, opening his fist to look inside. 62's eyes grew wide. He closed his grip again and jumped off the bed. He rushed to the side of the room where the light shone brightest and held his palm flat again. He brushed his palm with the fingers of his other hand and realized that it was actually three thin pieces stacked together.
The green was brighter than 62 had ever imagined. The edges of the perfectly straight stalks grew blurry as tears collected in his eyes. He pressed his nose to his palm. The poa pratensis smelled so different from the sterile sameness of steel and plastic of the world he knew. It wiggled in his hand as he trembled; from excitement or fear, he couldn't tell. 62 closed his eyes, held his breath, and pinched the soft flesh of his inner thigh to wake up from the dream.
He opened his eyes. Looked down at his still-open palm. The three green blades were still there.
CHAPTER 29
THE DOOR HISSED AS it slid on its tracks. The PTS stood in the gaping doorway, light spilling around it and making its sharp edges glow. A light in its eyes blinked yellow as it scanned the pod. 62 watched it from under a slit left open between his sheet and the mattress. He was sure that the Machine couldn't see the plant leaves. They were folded in his shirt. The shirt was tucked into his pants. The bundle was hidden under his belly and pressed against the bed. The sheet covered all of him. It couldn't know what he'd hidden. And yet...
The PTS approached him. Its recently oiled joints barely made a sound as it moved through the room. 62's breath threatened to catch in his chest but he knew that the Machine would check his vitals. A held breath would indicate distress. He forced an exhale, even and steady. The PTS's hands reached out over the bed. They hovered above him. He reminded himself to inhale. He felt the air move through his nose and past his lips. His tongue relaxed more than he intended, vibrating until a snort sounded in the air. He managed not to jump at the sound erupting from his own throat. He evened his breath again. Exhaled. Even and steady.
The PTS froze. It listened for a moment and then must have decided that he was asleep. Its hands retracted. Its shadow faded and the door slid closed once more.
“That was close.” Blue's voice sounded far away. He'd seen the movement outside just in time to pull the vent shut, douse the light and duck into the darkness beyond. 62 had been lying on the bed and tugged the sheet over him seconds before the Machine entered. Although getting caught by the PTS would be terrifying, the threat of discovery was also exciting.
62 rolled onto his back and pulled the sheet down just far enough that he could see Blue's face peek out through the grate. “I think you'd better put the screws back. What if that thing had fallen out of place? We'd both be in big trouble.”
“You have no idea.” Blue shook his head. He produced the screws and slowly turned them back into the back of the vent cover. The slight screech of the metal was like a song of victory being played.
“Why did you bring me the poa pratensis?” 62 fished the plant leaves out of their hiding place. One of the blades had bent when he hid them and he wondered if it could be fixed.
“Well I was hoping it might change your mind about me. And the doc, he was hoping so, too. Well, we want you to be on our side. We've got people to take care of out there. Sure, we can get by on our own. Been doing it since I was taken outside. But it's a whole lot easier to take care of everybody when we've got help from Adaline.” Blue's eyes danced behind the slats of the vent in irritation. “And please, stop calling it poa pratensis. For dust's sake, this ain't some stupid class where you have to be proper all the time.”
“What do you call it?” 62 tried to bend the crooked blade back to its original shape. He pushed the thin fibers the way he would a bent wire. Instead of straightening, the thing tore in two.
“Outside, it's called grass. And trust me, it's nothing special. It's everywhere. Even where you don't want it to be.”
62's eyes went wide. “Why wouldn't you want it everywhere?”
Blue snorted. “There's better stuff than grass out there. Most of the time, the grass just gets in the way of whatever else you want to grow. We try to get rid of it, but it grows right back.”
The two Boys sat in silence. One trying to imagine anything more perfect than a field of green grass that reached to the horizon; the other trying to find the words he'd use next. Blue finally found them.
“62, you gotta give those back to me. Push them through the vent and I'll pick 'em up.”
“Why?” 62's voice cracked.
Blue shook his head. “If they find you with 'em, they're gonna want to know where you got 'em. They’ll be a lot less polite when they talk to you about it, too.”
“I can hide it. Besides, if they find it, I'll just
say that I don't know where it came from.” 62 rubbed the leaves between his fingers. The fibers had little ridges along the leaf. It was like a fingerprint without a finger.
“There ain't any way that somebody is going to believe you found something like that down here. I'm sorry, 62. I've got to take it back with me.” Blue tried to sound tough and protective. “You've seen it, and you know it's real. Now, give it to me. It's for your own good.”
62 nodded. He crawled out from under the sheet and stood up at the foot of the bed. One by one, he fed the blades of grass back through the vent. He settled back down on the mattress, folding his legs beneath him. Blue shuffled around on the other side of the wall and 62 imagined him hiding the grass in a pocket, tucked away with a stash of other secrets.
“So, why do you come down here from the outside?” 62 looked at the wall of his cube and tried to imagine anything other than Adaline beyond it.
“To get supplies, mostly.” Blue sighed. “It's a lot of work to keep everyone going out there. Getting clothes and meal tablets down here makes it easier. Other than that, it still feels like home. Especially when I find Boys like you.”
“What do you mean, like me?” 62 rubbed his sweaty palms against his tunic.
“You know. Kids who don’t fit in quite right.” Blue shrugged.
“Oh. You mean Boys with anomalies.” 62 looked away. “They get rid of us here, if they know. I got taken away once. Almost didn't make it back.”
Blue was quiet when he answered. “I know. 42 told me about you seeing a doc and almost getting your brain scrambled. It's part of why he told me to meet you in the first place.”
62 raised his eyes back to Blue's. “Why would 42 want you to meet me?”
“He told me you're the only Boy he's ever seen come back from the brain lab. And you're the youngest Boy to figure out how to give commands to the Machines. He wanted me to meet you so that I could tell you something.”
“What?”
Blue's eyes were rimmed with glassy tears. But through the shimmering pools shown a determination that 62 had only ever seen in 71's eyes before.
“He wants you to know that if they ever come for you again, we'll be there.”
62 nodded his appreciation, even if he didn't understand. The rest of Blue's words washed over him in a blur until the Boy in the vent said goodbye and disappeared into the darkness behind the wall. 62 straightened the sheet around him on the bed, pulling it over his head where he sat until he was completely covered. Despite his earlier irritation, now he was glad for the light that continued to pour in through the window. Blue was gone, Adaline slept, and 62 lifted his folded leg from the mattress.
He fished the tiny ripped blade of grass from where his knee had been. He held it on the tip of his finger. Even now, in the dim light under the sheet, the green seemed to glow against his pale skin.
CHAPTER 30
62 CLOSED HIS EYES TIGHT. It was another several hours before it would be time to get up for training, and there wasn't any better way to pass the time than by entering his dreams. Sleep didn't come easy, though. Every few minutes, 62 dug his fingers under the blanket to check the grass and feel the small fibers. The fear of losing his new treasure, the excitement of having it and the awe that such a thing could really exist kept his eyes fluttering open for another look.
In time, sleep did come. As soon as 62 felt his head sink into the pillow for the last time, he pushed forward into his mind until he landed in the open space of a dream. He pressed his hand against the floor and grass sprang up in uneven spikes all around him. The grass was less perfect than the way he'd dreamed it before. A new smell wafted through the air, wet and fresh. The texture tickled his feet differently than it had before. Instead of being soft and silky, now individual stiff fibers pressed against his skin. He picked a piece of grass from the ground, relishing the quiet snap of the leafy veins as they broke away from the plant.
Blue told him that he had to keep the grass a secret, but 62 had someone who needed to see it as badly as he had. He pressed his hand into the air, creating a slight opening in the dream. He pressed his face into the opening and looked for 71. It took a moment, but soon he saw the Man sitting in a classroom surrounded by empty chairs. 62 didn't wait for an invitation. He pressed himself into the gap of his dream until it spread wide enough for him to pass through to the elder's dream.
71 looked up from his desk with a smile. “Hello, there. Sleeping well?”
“Not really.” 62 jumped into the room. He glanced around quickly. “Is it safe?”
The Man tilted his head and furrowed his brow. “You know, secret passwords only work if you remember to use them. Is something on your mind?”
62 nodded. “Blue told me that he wasn't going to come see me anymore. But then we talked and I think we're still going to be friends.”
71's smile faded and the creases around his eyes deepened. “He isn't a good friend to have. I told you, he's a thief and a liar.”
“I don't think he's a liar.” 62 sat down at a desk in the front row. He closed his eyes and the chair transformed into a giant pillow. He pushed the fluff around until he was comfortable and then settled into the soft cloth.
“Whatever truth he might tell you is simply for his own gains.” 71 pressed his hands together, resting his elbows on the desk. He gazed at 62 over interlocked fingers. “He uses information to get what he wants. If he's making you promises, it won't be long before he starts asking for favors, if he hasn’t already.”
“He hasn't asked me for anything, really. He wanted to know about the Man you and 42 think is from Defense. But other than that–”
“What did you tell him?” 71 boomed. He seemed surprised by the volume of his own voice and cleared his throat. “I mean, it's important that you not share Adaline's secrets with criminals like Blue.”
62 was uncomfortable, and he didn't think making the pillow fluffier would help. His skin shivered and his stomach clenched. “He isn't a criminal. He's...” 62 shook his head. “Well, I don't know what he is. Different, I guess.”
“He's the wrong kind of different,” 71 snorted. “He's the kind of different that gets taken away by Machines.”
“I guess.” 62 shrugged. “He said he was taken away, but likes coming back. He knows how.”
71's eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
62 grinned. Finally, he could share his secret with 71. “He knows how to get out of Adaline. He says he does it all the time. And after he's out, he comes back in. Mainly to get supplies, but sometimes just to visit.”
“This story of an outside again. Lies. The Boy has a talent for avoiding the Machines, sure. But he's not going anywhere special. Sleeping in vents and maintenance hatches is more like it.”
“It isn't a lie. He proved it.” 62 held out his hand. Across his palm lay an imagined copy of the three blades of grass that Blue showed him hours before. “He brought me these.”
71's beard drooped as he frowned. “Poa pratensis? A figment of our collective imaginations. It's nothing we haven't dreamed a thousand times before.”
“He didn't show it to me in a dream. I was awake.”
The two friends stared at one another and a heaviness filled the air as the words sank in. 62's smile faded as 71's frown intensified. After several minutes, 71 broke the silence with an agitated sigh.
“A trick. Poa pratensis may have existed once. But its destruction was complete long before either of us were animated.”
62 nodded, hoping his enthusiasm would win the teacher over. “It does exist. He brought me three blades of grass.” 71 cringed at the plant's common name. 62 ignored the Man's wince and continued. “They were real. I could smell them. I could feel them. They aren't just a dream. They grow somewhere. Some place outside of Adaline.”
“There isn't life outside of Adaline.” 71 insisted. “If those things are real, they were manufactured in a lab the same as you and me. This story of an 'outside' is just that. A story. A make-believe fan
tasy that rebellious Men perpetuate to lure Boys away from their innate goodness.”
62 slouched low, feeling defeated. He was sure that Blue was telling the truth about the outside. Perhaps it wasn't a wide and wonderful place. But Blue didn't live in the system like everyone else, and he had to be from somewhere. He mumbled, “It's real. No matter what you say, I believe in something outside of Adaline.”
71 stood up from his desk. He leaned forward, his usually friendly stance turning hard and menacing. “Don't ever let another person hear you say that. It's against the order of things. A message of crazed anarchy.”
Shrinking into the pillow 62 muttered, “I'm not crazy.”
“I know you don't think so. But you're brainsick if you believe in that fairytale.” 71 softened, realizing that he'd frightened the Boy. “It's a fantastic thing to want to believe. But there is no proof that life is possible beyond Adaline’s bounds. There may have been something there once. There are books that support that theory. But any life outside of Adaline was snuffed out generations ago. Talk of life existing beyond Adaline doesn't help us. It distracts us from the Community, from our brothers and our duty to protect one another. We can't afford to go searching for a world that doesn't exist when there's so much important work to do in the one that does.”
62 looked at the grass that still lay in his palm. He let the blades fade into oblivion, erasing them from the dream. It wasn't that he was going to give up believing – there was no way he could do that. But letting the grass disappear was a way to end the conversation. 71 wouldn't believe in exploring beyond these walls. That much was clear.
The Adaline Series Bundle 1 Page 30
