by Krista McGee
I want to jump up and hold Berk. But I control myself, willing my stomach to calm, suppressing a squeal of delight. A trip to the moon with Berk. What a wonderful thought.
“And bring your violin.” Berk motions toward the couch, where my instrument has sat since my last visit with John. “It has been noted that you haven’t played in a week.”
I place my violin in its case and follow Berk outside. He is silent, so I am too. I’m sure this is just another one of my many flaws, but sometimes I feel like we can communicate even without words, that I know what Berk is thinking. Right now, I am sure he is saying we need to behave as if this were just a Scientist/patient outing, with no hint of friendship so no one will be required to come along with us.
We walk down the hall and turn down a corridor. More empty rooms. Then we come to a large metal door. Berk places his finger on a pad on the wall and the door slides open. We are in what looks like a stairwell, but it has no stairs. A blue bag is against the wall, and Berk hefts it onto his shoulders. He keeps walking and reaches another door, with another pad. This door slides open and we are out in the open.
This is different from the area outside my pod. We have a small garden with grass and flowers, as well as a greenhouse with vegetables and fruits that is used by the Culinary Specialist to make our meals. But this just has patches of grass, remnants of flowers. No greenhouse. No pod nearby. It looks like I feel—missing important pieces. I love it.
“This is the end of the State,” Berk tells me as we walk farther away from the door, where the grass disappears and is replaced first by dirt and then with concrete. Looming above the concrete are massive structures.
“The water tanks.” I recall seeing pictures of the water tanks on my learning pad, but nothing could prepare me for the reality. Enormous couldn’t even begin to describe the size of these tanks. They are so wide that I can’t see around them, so tall that I can’t see where they end. I look at Berk. “Is this part of a test?”
Berk takes the bag off his back and opens it. He pulls out a bedcovering and spreads it out on the ground. He sets containers of food on top of the covering and sits. “This is a picnic.”
“What?”
“It is something the ancients used to do.” He motions for me to sit.
I am sure this is something the Scientists would not approve of. “Are we allowed—?”
“We are looking at the moon because you need the boost from that.” Berk points to a panel right above one of the tanks. “And we are coming here because you need to be isolated from the other pods. We wouldn’t want anyone to see you, you know.”
“Of course.” I smile. Berk is having fun with me. It is a wonderful feeling. It reminds me of when we were younger, carefree.
“Sadly, though”—Berk holds out a slice of bread with cheese and a slice of tomato on it—“no cameras were installed out here. It was pointless. There are no pods out here, no citizens.”
“But we are permitted to be here?”
“Dr. Spires was out here almost every day so he could check on the tanks.” I take the bread from Berk. His fingers brush mine. “Since he is gone, that duty is shared by several of us younger Scientists. Today is my turn. And since you were also in need of some time outside, I requested that I complete both tasks at the same time.”
“How very convenient.”
“Productive.” Berk lowers his voice. “And completely private.”
“No cameras?” My heart lightens. I am alone with Berk. Outside of the Scientists’ quarters. Beneath a distant glimpse of a full moon. Music plays in my mind, and I don’t stop it.
We eat in silence. Once the initial excitement of being alone with Berk wears off, I find myself uncomfortable. I don’t know how to behave alone with him. When we can speak with complete freedom, what do we say? Can I tell him about John, or will his training and design as a Scientist rebel against the ideas John has planted in my mind? Will he think that my even considering John’s ideas confirms my hopeless status in the State?
Berk looks at me. The gold specks in his eyes seem to be dancing. He does not appear uncomfortable at all.
“Will you play?” Berk points to my violin case. “For me?”
He says it quietly, the words soaking deep into my being. Will I play for him?
I open the case and pull out the violin. I look at Berk and I know he is not thinking like a Scientist. He isn’t just looking at me, he is looking into me. Into my mind and my heart, into the secret places where I dream and question and hope. We are more alike than I ever imagined. I tear my eyes from his. I cannot look at him and play, so I close my eyes, position my bow, and begin.
I forget about the testing, I forget my fears. I forget that my life could soon be over. I forget everything but this moment. And I play. I play everything I feel, everything I hope. I play love and a wedding and a world where those things aren’t primitive. A place where a Scientist and a Musician can be together, forever, the way John described. My bow glides over the strings of my violin, bringing to the surface everything I have hidden.
When I am finished, I am gulping air. Frightened, excited, completely transparent. I have laid bare everything that is in my heart.
Berk stands. He takes the violin from my hands and places it carefully back in the case. He faces me, his green eyes just inches from mine. He touches my face, tracing my jaw with his finger. Then he pulls me closer and wraps his strong arms around me. His face is buried in my hair, his breath is a whisper in my ear. I fall into him, my head on his chest, my ear listening to his heartbeat. We don’t move, we don’t speak. But I know what he is saying. And I say it back.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Your dinner.” An Assistant comes in with a tray and sets it on my dresser. She leaves just as she came—silently, methodically.
She doesn’t see that I am not the same person I was yesterday. I am sure my skin has changed hues. I feel every nerve tingle. I just think of Berk and my heart rate increases, my stomach feels as if it were floating inside me.
I don’t need food. I don’t want food. I want to go back to the sleeping platform and close my eyes and think of Berk. I want to remember every moment of our picnic, every word that he said. I want to recall the feel of his arms around me, his warm breath in my ear. I think if I tried, I could fly around the room. I want to shout. I want to play. A violin is too soft for how I feel. I need a trumpet to declare these feelings, to fully express what is in my heart.
I do not want food, but the Scientists will be suspicious if I don’t eat. I am sure the Assistant records how much I eat and drink and reports that information back to her superiors. I am, after all, simply an experiment.
I walk to the dresser and take a sip of the orange juice. It tastes different from my usual orange juice. Or perhaps my nerves aren’t the only things affected by these feelings I have for Berk. Perhaps even my taste buds are altered. Everything in me is different, more alert.
Why would the Scientists want to keep feelings like this from us? This is wonderful.
I am hungrier than I thought. The fruit is not enough. I eat a second slice of the toast. I think of last night. Again. Will I ever stop thinking of it? I hope not.
I get dressed, still thinking of Berk. I wish we could run away—to that patch of concrete and grass—and be there together. Forever. No Scientists, no tests, no annihilation chamber. Just Berk and me.
But, of course, that cannot happen.
The door opens and Berk walks in. I want to rush to him, but I remain where I am. I greet him like a patient would greet her doctor. At least, I hope that is what it sounds like.
Berk nods and holds the door open as I walk out. He is alone. No Assistants with him. Instead of turning toward the laboratory, he turns right. Toward our stairwell. He doesn’t speak, but he does walk faster. I have to jog to keep up with his long legs.
When we finally reach the stairwell and the door closes, Berk turns to me. His eyes are different. Serious. He grabs my should
ers and looks at me with such intensity that, for a moment, I am scared.
“I have only been given one more day to test on you.” Berk’s voice is quiet, but the emotion behind it is not.
I nod, unsure of how to respond.
“I am trying to prove that your emotions can be modified. That’s why you have been in the cube. All the testing has been recording your responses, your brain activity, everything.”
“What do I need to do?”
Berk sighs and lowers his hands. “When I tested on the mice, I developed a serum that would alter their brain function.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t do that to you, Thalli.” Berk runs a hand through his hair. “It would change you.”
“So I am going to fail the test?” I refuse to consider this possibility. If I fail, I am of no use. I will be annihilated.
“No.” Berk pulls me farther into the stairwell and speaks so softly I can barely hear him. “I am going to inject you with a placebo. But only you and I will know that.”
“But how will I pass the test if I don’t have the serum?”
“The same way you managed to conceal your emotions from the Monitors all your life.” Berk manages a small smile. “You need to think like Rhen for the next six hours. Respond the way she would respond. Don’t react to the garden. Don’t enjoy the smell. Keep repeating to yourself that you know it’s only a simulation. Look at the screens, try to analyze them. The same with the city scene. Don’t show disgust or excitement. Try to look as disinterested as you can.”
“And the boat?” I don’t know if I can pretend I am not sick when it is moving.
“You can be affected by the motion, but not by the attack,” Berk says. “Physical responses to outside stimuli are expected. It’s the emotional responses you have to ignore.”
“What if I can’t do it?” Fooling the Monitors was different. Almost like a game. And, usually, the worst that happened if I failed was I was sent to isolation. But this—if I fail this, I am useless to the State. No, more than useless. Detrimental.
“You can do it.” Berk takes a step closer to me. I can smell the soap on his skin.
“And if I do? What then?” I don’t want to be sent back to Pod C. Not anymore. That would mean never seeing Berk again.
“Then I will go to Dr. Loudin.” Berk squeezes my shoulders. “I will suggest that we keep you here. He will want to run some tests too. I’ll try to stay a step ahead of them so you know what to expect.”
“And then?” I swallow hard. “Am I going to be a science experiment the rest of my life?”
Berk pulls out his pad and steps away. “We have been here too long. I need to get you to the lab.”
“I am scared.” All the possibilities for failure rush into my brain. If I get caught, the punishment will be severe. If I get caught . . . “You could get caught.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Berk stands straight. “You can do it. I know you can.”
Berk opens the door and we head toward the lab, toward the future.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The cube test is beginning. I try to imagine myself as Rhen in these simulations. As much as I want to watch the clouds pass, I do not. I glance at them and consider the technology that went into their creation. I breathe in the scent of the garden, but I try not to allow my face to reflect any enjoyment in that. It is just a scent, manufactured to imitate the smells of the plants and flowers that grow by our pods, in our greenhouses.
In the city, I look at the buildings and try to think of the primitive world they represent, not of the height of the buildings, the smells coming from the windows high above the moving sidewalks.
I prepare myself for the boat simulation. The motion does affect my stomach, but Berk said that would be all right. I try not to give in to feelings of fear when I see the other boat, with its tube pointing toward me. I jump at the sound of the first projectile. I hope that is recorded as a physical reaction, not an emotional one.
And then it is over. The cube is dark. I do my best to keep my breathing level normal. The serum Berk was supposed to have given me would make me feel nothing as I wait. So I try to feel nothing. To think about nothing. To be just like everyone else. Berk is right—I have done this for so long, it comes naturally. But, for a moment, I allow longing to fill my being, a longing to just be me and have that be acceptable. But I shove the thought out of my mind. It can’t happen. I cannot dwell on it.
The lights come on and I am escorted out of the cube. Berk is remaining at a distance, looking over the data, talking with another Scientist. Dr. Loudin, I am guessing. The one he wants to convince that I should stay. I try to read their lips, but I cannot. Trying to eavesdrop on their conversation is probably not the wisest choice. The serum was supposed to inhibit my curiosity. So I just look straight ahead, waiting for my instructions.
“What did you think of the simulation, Thalli?” Dr. Loudin is in front of me. I think of Rhen. How would she answer that question?
“The technology is quite advanced.” I mentally applaud myself for my response. Very Rhen-like. “The images are even clearer than what we have on our wall screens.”
“Indeed.” The Scientist nods. “We have some Engineers developing software to use those cubes rather than learning pads in education.”
I want to say how much I would have loved that—being in history rather than just reading about it. And music—writing a composition on the walls and the ceiling rather than just on my pad. But I don’t say that. Instead, I say, “Certainly a viable option for the younger generations.”
“I find your mind quite interesting, Thalli.” Dr. Loudin is looking at me with his eyes half closed, like I am a piece of DNA under a microscope and he is trying to analyze my makeup. “A Musician with advanced logic.”
Advanced logic! I want to stand up and shout. But that would not be logical. I do, however, glance at Berk. He smiles slightly, just enough for me to know this is a victory.
“Dr. Berk.” Dr. Loudin turns and plants a hand on Berk’s shoulder. “Your serum seems to work just as well on humans as it did on your rodents. Well done.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I would like to run some tests of my own.” Dr. Loudin looks at me with his microscope-eyes again. “You may return the patient to her room. And since this has been so successful, I will be giving you a new assignment.”
Berk looks at me and then back at Dr. Loudin. “Sir?”
“Report to my office once you have delivered Thalli.” Dr. Loudin walks away.
Berk opens the door and walks down the hallway, turning toward the stairwell. I cannot see his face, but he must be happy. He just cannot show it. Not here. But when the door closes, and we are alone . . .
“We did it.” I jump into Berk’s arms, but he does not return my embrace. I step back. Berk’s face is pale, unhappy. “What is it?”
Berk shakes his head. “Dr. Loudin is reassigning me. He wants to experiment on you, and I won’t be there to protect you.”
Understanding replaces my joy with fear. “What type of experimenting does Dr. Loudin do?”
“His specialty is brain research. But he does much more. I don’t even know half of what he does. So much of it is secret.”
Brain research? I fall back against the wall.
“I’ll try to talk to him. I’ll try to convince him to allow you to work with us, that further experimentation isn’t necessary. We need you exactly the way you are.”
I hear what Berk isn’t saying. That this experimentation could be terrible, destructive. That I would be nothing more to Dr. Loudin than an interesting test subject, a human lab rat. That he has no intention of allowing me to stay here with Berk and the others, or even be returned to Pod C.
“Thalli.” Berk is standing inches from me. I am hyperventilating. Berk pushes my head down so my breathing will return to normal. He rubs my back as I am bent. Finally, I stand aga
in. I take his face in my hands. The feel of his stubble on my fingers is overwhelming.
“I am all right.” I look in his eyes, memorizing every detail of them. “You did everything you could. You made these last few weeks wonderful. The most wonderful of my whole life. I am glad I got caught. I’m glad I got to be with you, to experience this.”
Berk closes his eyes. “Don’t talk like that.”
“It is true.” I lean into him, listening to his heart.
“I don’t know what to do.” Berk leans his head against mine. I don’t say anything. I just enjoy this moment, knowing it might not come again.
“Dr. Berk.” The voice from Berk’s pad sounds like a shout in the quiet stairwell. “You are needed in laboratory M.”
“You need to go.” I pull away. Berk looks at me, looks into me, and then he sighs. A deep sigh. I understand.
I open the door. I know Berk doesn’t want to leave, but it’s my turn now to protect him. So I lead the way. Back to my room, away from Berk.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I don’t want to wake up. I was dreaming about Berk and me in a city, walking together. No Scientists were around. No cubes. No tests. Just him and me. And freedom.
But when I open my eyes, I am not in the city. I am not with Berk. Berk is an important Scientist, and I am just an experiment.
The door opens and an Assistant comes in. She brings me my breakfast, lays the tray down beside my sleeping platform, and then stands by the door.
I sit up straighter. Why is she staying here? Usually she just leaves my tray and walks back out.
“You have ten minutes to eat and get dressed.” She waits until I pick up a piece of fruit. A plum. I bite into it. She doesn’t leave until I swallow. I finish the plum without thinking. I take a few bites of the toast, but I can’t finish it. I have ten minutes.
I get dressed, pulling the white uniform shirt on, the white pants, the white shoes. The door opens. A different Assistant enters. Who is she and where will she be taking me? What is going to happen to me?
