Anomaly

by Krista McGee

  I cannot dwell on that now because the Assistant is talking and I should be listening. Something about a chamber.

  “You will remain overnight.”

  I am listening now. “What?”

  “The isolation chamber,” the Assistant repeats, never slowing down as she leads me down a hallway I have never seen before.

  I stop. “The isolation chamber?” They know. They found out about Berk and me. I am being punished. I don’t mind. I was prepared for worse than isolation. But what will happen to Berk?

  “Please follow me.” The Assistant does not stop.

  “But . . . why? I . . .” I have to run to catch up to her. She doesn’t even turn around.

  “This is part of another test that the Scientists are conducting.”

  “What is the test?” I slow down and pull oxygen into my lungs. It is a test. Not a punishment. Berk will be all right.

  “You are the test subject.” The Assistant’s voice is almost mechanical. “Your instructions are simply to remain in the isolation chamber until I return for you.”

  “And when will that be?”

  The Assistant does not respond. She simply stops before a metal door and turns the handle. I have been placed in isolation before. In Pod C. The last time was when I escaped to find Dr. Spires dead and to be reunited with Berk. But this is different. This room is spacious. It has coverings on the floor, a large sleeping platform in the corner with four white sticks protruding up from it. The sticks are decorated with flowers and leaves. It is pretty. The platform is covered not with the typical white I always see, but a pink covering that looks soft and thick. There is a chair in the other corner with long, rounded legs and it is covered with padding, also pink.

  The dresser is white, with a huge mirror above it. Mirrors are rare. I have seen just a few in my life. The Monitors said they were frivolous accents, remnants from the ancients that we have no use for. The room smells like flowers. I don’t have time to think about stopping the door before it closes. I am too overwhelmed with the room to think of anything.

  I go to the chair and sit in it. It moves. I lean back and it leans back, in a smooth, soothing motion. I lean forward and it leans forward. I do this several times. I go faster, lifting my feet and using my knees to create momentum so the chair goes so far backward that it threatens to tip. I laugh. And do it again.

  When I stop, I decide to walk to the mirror. The image in there is me. I know that. I have seen my image in the reflections of the windows at night. But this is so clear. I see every detail. I see what Berk sees when he looks at me. I take my hair out of its elastic so I look exactly the way I did last night. My hair has more colors in it than I realized. It is brown, but with subtle hints of lighter brown and blond mixed in. It is neither curly nor straight. Somewhere in between. My eyes are bluish-green and large and my lashes are dark. I smile. My teeth are white and straight and I have dimples on my cheeks. When we were little, Berk teased me about my dimples. He said they were indentions left by the Scientists when they lifted me from my birthing pod.

  I sigh. I need to stop thinking about Berk. Stop dreaming about him. I will likely never see him again. There is no use longing for something that can never be.

  I lie on the sleeping platform. It is so soft, I feel like it could swallow me. I am not tired, but I do not get up. I lie here and think of Berk by trying not to think of Berk.

  The door opens. Is my test over already? I sit up and I can’t believe what I am seeing, who I am seeing. I can barely get the name past the lump forming in my throat.

  “Asta?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Asta?” I say it again, a little louder. She is still at the door. She is taller. Her face is thinner. But I recognize her onyx eyes and caramel skin. Her dark hair that seems to fall to her shoulders in perfect curls.

  She smiles and I know it is her.

  I run to her and hug her and cry. I can’t help myself. I thought she was gone. And she is standing in front of me. I don’t care if the Scientists are watching, testing my reaction. Asta is alive!

  “I don’t understand.” I pull Asta to the sleeping platform and we sit facing each other, like we used to when we were younger, our legs folded under us. “I thought you were . . .”

  “Annihilated?” Her voice sounds different. But then, she is older. I’m sure mine sounds different to her as well.

  “What happened?”

  “There’s so much more going on than you know.” Asta’s voice is quiet, confident.

  “The Scientists . . .”

  Asta smiles. “They are good. So much better than you can imagine. They keep things from you for your good. But they are allowing me to tell you some of it.”

  I am confused. “If the Scientists are so good, why did they take you away because you were just a little sick? Why did they take me away because I cried over some music?”

  “They have to retain a sense of order in the pods, Thalli.” Asta is speaking to me like I am a child. “But when people are brought here, it is for rewards, not punishments. Differences are good. They just don’t want that advertised. Only a few are made to be like us.”

  “You were made to be sick?”

  “No. I wasn’t sick. Not really. Just different.”

  “And I was made to . . . feel?”

  “Yes.”

  I sigh. I am not an anomaly. I was made to be this way.

  “Tell me about how you feel.”

  And so I do. I tell her everything. Almost everything. I can’t bring myself to tell her about Berk. Not yet. She says the Scientists are good, that I was made this way. But even Berk wanted to keep our meetings private. Even he wanted us to go somewhere we could not be seen or heard. I must protect him.

  But I tell Asta about the music. I tell her that since she left, I learned to play my feelings through my instruments so I wouldn’t get in trouble. Asta listens and nods and smiles.

  “I don’t want to talk about myself anymore.” I have too many questions racing through my brain to think about my own thoughts and feelings. “What have you been doing?”

  “Living.” Asta shrugs.

  “I know that.” I smile. “But what have you been doing? Did the Scientists run you through tests like they did me?”

  “Of course.” Asta stands and walks to the dresser, her curls bouncing with each step. “They had to make sure my body was well enough for my new life.”

  “And what is your new life?” Asta seems to take pleasure in making me wait. I remember that about her now. She could be exasperating.

  “My new life.” Asta walks to me and points up.

  “You live in an upper level?” I knew the Scientists’ pod had more levels than ours. I have wanted to explore more of their building.

  “You could say that.” Asta smiles and walks to the door.

  “Can I see it?”

  Asta’s hand is on the doorknob. “Not today. But soon.” She opens the door with a finger to the pad.

  “Where are you going?”

  “These things take time, Thalli.” Asta turns to face me. “You always were impatient.”

  “When will you come back?”

  “Later.” She puts a hand up. “But you need to keep my visit quiet. The Scientists know about it, of course, but the Assistants do not. They aren’t special like we are. They think annihilations really happen and that you really are a danger to the State. And they need to keep thinking that.”

  “Why?”

  “Patience, Thalli.” Then she turns back to me with a wink. “You’ll know everything. Eventually.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Time to return.” The Assistant opens the door.

  I pretend to be waking, although I have actually not slept at all. How could I? Asta is alive. Differences are good. After the testing, I will . . . what? Get to live here in the Scientists’ pod? Above with Asta? I have so many questions I feel like I will explode if I don’t get answers soon.

  “Where am I g
oing now?”

  “Back to your room.” The Assistant is already walking down the hallway. “You have some lessons to complete before your next round of tests.”

  Nothing bothers me anymore. Not the tests, not even the lessons. I will do whatever I am required to do so I can complete this testing and move on to whatever awaits. Asta looked so happy, so free. I crave that freedom more than I crave anything. To be able to walk around, to open any doors I wish, to know what only a select few know. To be different and have that be something positive, something special. It almost seems too good to be true.

  The door shuts and I return to my sleeping platform. I am not tired, but I have nowhere else to go. I wish someone would come, that I could tell someone—anyone—what I experienced. How can I keep silent about this?

  I fall asleep quickly—I did not even feel tired. I wake and immediately think of Asta. Asta!

  I need to talk to someone. I will explode if I keep this to myself. But who? Not Berk. I don’t even know where he is.

  John? I could tell John. He wouldn’t tell anyone, I am sure of it. I catch the door after the Assistant brings my dinner. I walk to John’s room, my mind reeling with this news.

  “John.” He is in his chair again, eyes closed but not asleep. “I saw a friend today.”

  John lifts his head. “Did you?”

  “I haven’t seen her in several years.” My heart beats faster. This still seems so impossible. So amazing. “I thought she was annihilated.”

  “But she was not?” John seems confused. Even he doesn’t know about this.

  “No.” I can still see Asta in front of me. Smiling. “She has been living somewhere here. She is so happy. So free. She said the Scientists are so much better than we know. She is going to take me to where she lives. Maybe, when the testing is over, I will get to live with her.”

  John’s bushy eyebrows come together. He doesn’t speak, but I can tell there is something he wants to say.

  “What?”

  John shakes his head. “That is certainly interesting.”

  “You’ve never heard of this?”

  “No.” John opens his mouth to speak but closes it again. “This is a good gift for you. I am happy you saw your friend. But is that all?”

  I am sure my face is turning red. “What do you mean?”

  “I saw you walking down the hall with the young Scientist.”

  “Berk?” Are my feelings so obvious that John could spot them in the few seconds we spent passing his window?

  “I was in love myself once.” John’s ice-blue eyes moisten.

  “In love?” I lean forward. “You’ve spoken of that before. But what is it?”

  John’s laugh is low and rough, like a cello being plucked by hand. “Oh, Thalli. How do I define love? It is the Designer’s greatest gift to us. It gives us a small glimpse of who he is, how he feels about us.”

  “You still haven’t said what it is.”

  John laughs again. Louder this time. “You are right. Love is a feeling of connection to another person. You, no doubt, feel love toward your friends—a desire to spend time with them, to protect them, to help them.”

  I think of Rhen. I feel that toward Rhen. I feel that about Berk too. But there is more with him. “This is what you felt for Amy?”

  “It started with that, with a friendship type of love. But it grew into romantic love, then it deepened into a committed love.”

  “Romantic love? Committed love? What are those?”

  John pats my hand. “Romantic love is what I expect you are beginning to feel for the young Scientist. Your heart beats faster, your mind races with thoughts of him. When you touch, you feel like your skin is on fire.”

  I gasp. How can he know this?

  John lifts a weathered hand to his heart. “I may be old, but I hope I will never forget that feeling. It is wonderful. Terrifying at times. Confusing. But wonderful. It is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “But the Scientists . . .”

  John shakes his head. “They fear those emotions because, unchecked, they can lead to other emotions—jealousy, anger, betrayal.”

  “So they were right to create us without them?” Most of us.

  “No.” John closes his eyes. “The solution is not to remove your feelings.”

  “Then what is the solution?”

  “The Designer is the solution.” John’s eyes open, and I see so much in them. I am sure he is sane. Perhaps the sanest person I have known.

  “He did not intend for us to live without feelings. In fact, we are told that he is love.”

  I hear a door at the end of the hallway open. Someone is coming. I need to return to my room.

  I dart out of John’s room and rush down the hallway.

  “Where are you going?” The Assistant is walking toward me. Did she see me leave John’s room? Will John be in trouble? Will he tell the Assistant what I said about Asta?

  “I . . .”

  The Assistant waves her hand. “Dr. Loudin is ready for you. You can explain this to him.”

  I swallow hard.

  I am rushed into the same room with the same simulation cube I was in last time. The Assistant begins to tell Dr. Loudin about the hallway incident, but to my relief, Dr. Loudin refuses to let her finish. “We will begin testing now.” He bends down over his communications pad and begins typing. His Assistant walks me to the cube and motions for me to sit.

  And now I must focus. This time, in the cube, I am in the dark. I do not like the dark. I begin to feel panic, and then the lights come on so brightly I am blinded, wishing for the dark. The dark is cool, but the light burns me. My skin feels like it is on fire.

  Should I remain emotionless like I did last time? But last time I was supposed to have been under the influence of the serum. Today I am not. I am just regular, malformed Thalli who feels more than she should. Berk always said to respond honestly. So I will.

  “Stop.” I can’t help myself. I know it is a simulation. But I am in pain.

  The light dims and a slight wind cools my skin. The light gets even dimmer, and I look above me and see the moon. But it is not as far away as I am used to seeing it from the panels. It is closer, larger. And there are sounds around me. I don’t recognize them, but I like them. They are soothing. Relaxing. Stars fill the screen above me. They, too, seem closer, brighter. There are so many. It is beautiful. I don’t want to leave.

  But then the simulation is over and I am out. Dr. Loudin is discussing the simulation, pad in hand. An Assistant records my vital signs and wipes down the cube. How many others are being tested this way? And what is the purpose? I want to ask so many questions. But I can’t. The Assistant is watching. The cameras are watching. I have to concentrate so I don’t allow my mind to wander to what I would say and do if no one were watching.

  And then I am back in my room. I should be exhausted. But I am wide awake. I eat the food left for me on my tray. I am not very hungry either, but I know I must finish it all. I must do what is expected of me so I can be done with these tests and on to—what?

  I try to close my eyes when the door opens and I see Asta.

  “Follow me.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Where are we?” The elevator has gone farther up than I have ever seen it go. Asta has access to places I didn’t even know existed, and she gets there with just a tap of her finger.

  “Patience.” Her white teeth flash as she winks at me, mocking my impatience.

  “You’re not going to tell me anything?” She comes in and completely rearranges everything I know, then smiles and winks about it like it’s all a game? Emotions I haven’t felt since I was a child well up. But they disappear when the elevator doors open.

  “Wh—” I can’t form a complete sentence. I am not even sure if I am awake. Surely this is a dream. The building, at least I think that’s what it is, is falling apart. The walls have large pieces that have just fallen off to be left lying on the floor. The floor appears to be a hun
dred years old. It looks like it may have contained many colors, but now those colors have faded to a uniform yellowish-brown. And the panels—they are so large. I walk over to one.

  “What is out there?” I see dirt where there should be grass. And it goes on for as far as I can see. There are no other buildings. Above it is gray.

  “I told you I live above.”

  “Above?” I hear her, but I am sure I do not comprehend. “This is . . . ?”

  Asta opens a large door. It groans with the effort and I scream, “No! It’s poisonous.”

  Years of history lessons pop into my mind. The Nuclear War destroyed everything on the earth and it destroyed everything above the earth. The atmosphere became toxic. Our air, like our water, is purified before it ever reaches our lungs. It has to be or we would all die horrible deaths, like the ancients did. Yet Asta pushes the door open more and more.

  This is how I am to die.

  I don’t want to die. I lunge at Asta, shove her out of the way, close the door, and block her from it. My leg hurts from running into the corner of the door. But it is closed. I am alive. Asta looks up from the ground, wiping remnants of the floor off her shirt.

  “I live out there.” She stands and shoots me a look filled with a mixture of annoyance and fatigue. “It isn’t poisonous.”

  “You live . . . there?” How much do I not know? How much has been kept from me?

  “Yes.” Asta grabs my arm gently and pushes me aside. “They test us to make sure we have the physical and emotional capacities to survive.”

  “But . . .” Will I ever be able to speak a complete thought again?

  “The air is no longer toxic.” Asta eases open the door. I hold my breath, still wary. “Several of us have returned to try to cultivate life. Follow me.”

  I have to breathe or pass out. I choose the former. I gulp a lungful of air and find, to my surprise, that I do not die. It is different from what I am used to breathing. It seems dirty, like my mouth is being coated with the dust that is all over the ground. Is that dust going into my lungs? Will death come slowly, over time, as the dust builds up until I can no longer take a breath?