Anomaly

by Krista McGee

  Rhen is calm. Logical. I can see she is trying to understand where she is and what is happening. She looks back toward the music room. She retraces her steps until she is there again. She knows she must find a way from there, through the pod, back to the laboratory. She understands that she is trapped in this simulation.

  She reaches up to grasp the treble clef in both hands. It is light but it is huge. She lifts it above her head, pulls back, and hurls it with all her might toward Pod C. The entire side of the pod crashes in. But we don’t hear the crash. We only hear the music. Notes from the music room drift into Pod C. Yesterday’s music combines with today’s. It should sound horrible. But it doesn’t. Rhen knows something I do not. The music fits. Yesterday’s music is played an octave lower. It is the accompaniment to today’s melody.

  Of course. How did I not know that?

  My melody plays of love and faith, what I was thinking of when I composed it. But the other piece, even though written to be technically superior, filled with as many differing notes and keys and rhythms as possible, still tells a story.

  The music drifts out of the pod toward the Scientists’ pod. Rhen reaches for a half note, stretches its stem, and sits on it like a floating chair. It takes her directly to the pod, the other notes following. She floats up, outside the pod, until she is outside this room. She points the stem of the half note toward the wall, pushes it forward. She breaks the wall from the outside. She is here, in her chair, probes attached to her head.

  And then she wakes up.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Rhen is gasping for air, trying to stand, brushing invisible debris from her shirt.

  Dr. Williams rushes to remove the probes before Rhen is injured. Dr. Loudin is tapping intently into his pad, trying, no doubt, to make sense of what just happened, to find the code that allowed Rhen to move from subconscious to conscious thought.

  Rhen stands and turns around to see Berk and me. She is confused. I want to go out, but Berk holds me tightly to his side. “Wait.”

  “All of you may leave.” Dr. Loudin dismisses the Assistants with a wave. He walks to the observation chamber and opens the door, motioning us out.

  Berk never lets go of my hand. We stand and walk into the laboratory.

  “Sit there.” Dr. Loudin points to a couch in the corner of the room. Dr. Williams calls to him, pad in hand, and the pair exit. The door slams behind them, the metal echoing in the large room.

  “What happened?” Rhen rubs her head, smoothing back her hair from where the probes had been.

  “What do you remember?” Berk turns so he can see Rhen, who is seated on my right.

  “A room with music.” Rhen’s eyes are far away. “Darkness. Then Pod C. But it was empty. Until I . . .”

  Rhen shakes her head. What happened is so illogical, she cannot even bring herself to speak of it.

  “You made the furniture appear,” I finish for her.

  “But that is impossible.”

  “It was a simulation,” Berk says.

  “What?”

  Berk explains the simulation and the test, the experiment to find a connection between logic and music.

  “But how did my being in the simulation help determine that connection?” Rhen asks.

  “Dr. Loudin has been studying the brain for years. He applied one of his programs to your simulation.”

  “And what did he find?”

  “I am sure he is discussing that with Dr. Williams right now.” Berk looks at the closed door.

  “And I am sure he won’t bother sharing those results with us.” I lean back.

  “We will be annihilated,” Rhen says. She isn’t upset or angry. Just stating facts.

  “Unless they need your assistance in the decoding.” Berk rubs my hand with his thumb.

  “What are you doing?” Rhen leans over and sees my hand in Berk’s.

  I want to explain that we are in love. I want her to know what love is and where it comes from, to break through her logic and help her find emotions. I am sure they are somewhere in her, suppressed, yes, but not gone. Her loyalty is proof enough that she has some feelings. She has just never allowed herself to connect with them.

  But I don’t have time to tell her anything because the door is opening and the two Scientists are returning, huge smiles on both their faces.

  “While we commend you both on a job well done”—Dr. Loudin replaces his pad on the desk—“we regret to inform you that your assistance is no longer needed.”

  “Of course,” Rhen says. “I am pleased to have been of service.”

  “You were of great service,” Dr. Williams says, still smiling. “With this data, we are well on our way to being able to access the subconscious brain. There are so many possibilities from there. I am certain we will be able to use this to discover a solution to the oxygen problem.”

  Berk steps forward. “Then why not keep them here? Continue to use them?”

  “Why not keep them here?” Dr. Loudin glares at Berk. “Rhen is physically unstable and Thalli is emotionally unstable. Both conditions are contagious. As we have seen.” Dr. Loudin looks from Berk to me and back again. “Which is why your services will no longer be needed as well, Dr. Berk. You have been infected by Thalli. Your reasoning has been compromised.”

  “No, please—” I step forward, but Dr. Williams silences me with her eyes.

  “We allow free thinking in our Scientists in order that they may have complete cognitive function.” Dr. Loudin’s voice gets louder with each phrase. “You took that freedom and applied it not to your position, but to her.”

  I feel sick. I knew this would happen. What other possible outcome could there be? But the reality of it is too horrible to comprehend. Talking about heaven with John last night is not the same as facing it with Berk and Rhen today. Where is the peace I had? I only feel fear. Numbing, crippling fear.

  Dr. Loudin doesn’t stop. He walks closer to Berk. “You had such potential. Your annihilation will set us back. But what choice do we have? You lied to us, you manipulated us for her. You placed this one life above the laws of this State. We can never trust you again.”

  “Erase his memory,” I shout. “Make him forget me. Make him forget all this.”

  “And how will I know if the surgery is successful?” Dr. Loudin raises his eyebrows at me, anger radiating from his hazel eyes. “You have demonstrated exactly how to circumnavigate the system. We believed your memory was erased until last night.”

  Tears form in my eyes. I wipe them away, needing to be as logical as possible so Dr. Loudin will be convinced that he should not annihilate Berk. “You can review that surgery and determine what went wrong. Then you can try again with Berk.”

  “Interesting idea.” Dr. Loudin presses his lips together. “This is a procedure I would like to repeat. And Dr. Berk is a worthy candidate, despite this unfortunate occurrence.”

  “No. I don’t want to be tested on.”

  Berk is looking at me, but I refuse to look back. He must live. I won’t allow him to pay for his feelings for me with his life.

  Dr. Loudin looks from Berk to me, ignoring Berk’s outburst. “I believe I discovered what went wrong with your surgery. Your brain doesn’t work the way most people’s brains work. Your memory lives somewhere else, somewhere different. As does your eyesight. You are an anomaly. If we weren’t so focused on finding a solution to our oxygen problem, I would have liked very much to have continued testing on you.”

  “Then why don’t you?” Berk says.

  “No.” This time I do look at Berk. “I don’t want to be tested on any more than you do.”

  “And you see why emotions are so dangerous.” Dr. Williams spreads her arms out. “No, Dr. Loudin. We must stick to the plan. These three must be annihilated. It is the most humane and the most logical solution.”

  “Not Rhen. Please. She has done nothing wrong. And she is healthy now. The medication worked. Rhen has never deceived anyone, never pretended. She doesn’t
deserve to be annihilated. Her logic is superior. You saw that in the simulation. Imagine what she could do—”

  “Enough.” Dr. Loudin slams a hand down on the desk. “I will not have you dictating to me who should live. Dr. Williams is right. The decision has already been made.”

  Berk squeezes my hand.

  “But I will allow you some comfort.” Dr. Loudin says this softly. I hold my breath. “You will go first.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  I am clinging to Berk, our cheeks pressed together. I can’t tell which are his tears and which are mine. My head drops to his shoulder and I hold him tighter. I know I will see him again. I know this. But saying good-bye is terrible, even with that knowledge.

  Dr. Loudin allowed Berk to walk me to my room. He did not tell me where Rhen was being taken or what would happen to her. He feels that he is being kind in leaving me unaware of their futures. It does not feel kind.

  “When?” I finally ask.

  Berk pulls away, places his hands on my face. His green eyes are bright from crying. “Soon.”

  “Today?”

  Berk closes his eyes.

  “Don’t answer that.” My hands are on his shoulders, his chest. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it matters.” Berk leans his forehead against mine. “I need time to make a plan.”

  I shake my head. “No more plans, Berk.”

  “Thalli.” Berk cannot speak. My heart is breaking for him. I know the pain of being left behind.

  “Death is only the beginning, remember?”

  Berk steps back and swallows. “Is this really our purpose, though, Thalli? Did the Designer bring us to know him, to love each other, only to be removed now, before we could accomplish anything?”

  I think about all that has happened. “Maybe knowing him and loving each other was our purpose. We have accomplished it, so he is letting us go to him. Where we will truly be free.” That thought frees me, brings me hope. Other than Berk, John, and Rhen, this world has not been a place that has brought me much joy. The thought of never knowing pain or sorrow again is exciting.

  “Amen.”

  I didn’t hear John enter the room. I have forgotten how white his hair is, his beard. How old he is. I rush to him and take his hands.

  “I might get there before you.” I think of our conversation the night before.

  John shakes his head. “Then you tell our Maker I am ready. Take old John home.”

  “How can you laugh about this?” Berk’s voice fills the room. “She is being killed because I love her.”

  John walks to Berk and taps a wrinkled hand to his chest. “Do not be afraid. Perfect love casts out fear.”

  “I’m not afraid.” Berk bites the words out. “I am angry.”

  “Anger is all right.” John nods. “You have reason to be angry when sin reigns. But I don’t see anger, Berk. I see fear. And I see guilt.”

  Berk deflates. His eyes drop to a spot on the ground. “It’s my fault.”

  “No. This is not your fault.” John forces Berk to look him in the eyes. “Remember when I told you about Job?”

  Berk nods.

  “He was innocent. Completely innocent, yet the enemy sought him out and destroyed everything he held dear.”

  Tears roll down Berk’s cheeks. I want to comfort him, but I need to let John finish.

  “And do you remember what he said?” John asks. “‘Though he slay me, yet . . .’?”

  Berk wipes a tear from his cheek. “‘Will I hope in him.’”

  “Trust him, Berk.” John pats Berk’s chest again. “‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.’”

  John turns from Berk and walks to me. “And you, my dear. How blessed you are to get to say good-bye to the ones you love.”

  John’s eyes are moist, and I know he is remembering that day so many years ago when he thought he was just going on a quick trip to see his son. He didn’t know that was the last time he would see the ones he loved.

  “I love you, John.” I hug the older man. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you.” He pats my back and steps away. “You have given this old man hope and joy. I am like Abraham. Except God has given me two children in my old age.”

  I watch John leave. I am no longer crying, no longer grieving. John’s presence has reminded me that this day would have come eventually. If it were not now, it would be when I was older. But it would come. Death is inevitable. But I do not fear it.

  I am ready.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Fifteen minutes and twenty-three seconds.

  That’s how long I have to live.

  The wall screen that displayed the numbers in blood-red letters now projects the image of a garden. The trees are full of pink and white blossoms, the green grass swaying a little in the wind. I hear the birds as they call to each other. I smell the moist soil.

  But the countdown still plays in my mind.

  Fourteen minutes and fifty-two seconds.

  It isn’t really soil I smell. It isn’t really the garden breeze I feel on my face. That is simply the Scientists’ “humane” means of filling my bloodstream with poison, of annihilating a member of the State who has proven to be “detrimental to harmonious living.”

  The wall screen is beginning to fade. The colors aren’t as bright. The blossoms are beginning to merge together. They look more like clouds now. I don’t know if the image is changing or if it is the effect of the poison. I could try to hold my breath, to deny the entrance of this toxic gas into my body. But I would only pass out, and my lungs would suck in the poison-laced oxygen as I lie here unconscious.

  No. I will die the way I finally learned to live. Fully aware. At peace. With a heart so full of love that even as it slows, it is still full.

  Because I know something the Scientists refuse to acknowledge.

  Death is only the beginning.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  I feel myself being lifted, but I cannot open my eyes. Is this the Designer? Is he carrying me to heaven?

  But it cannot be the Designer. My head aches and my body feels heavy. I try to open my eyes, but it is impossible. I hear a voice. It seems far away. “Stay with me, Thalli. Stay with me.”

  Berk. Berk is here. I try to stay awake. I fight against the fatigue.

  And I remember. The annihilation chamber. Assistants came for me right after John left. Berk was crying, but I was not. I walked to the room, refusing to be assisted. I was going to go on my own. I wanted to show the Scientists I was not afraid.

  And I wasn’t.

  I sat in the chair, watched the wall screen change from clock to garden. I must have drifted off. And then . . . this.

  I am disappointed. I expected to wake up in heaven. I was prepared to wake up in heaven. But I am not in heaven. And though I love the feel of Berk’s arms around me, I would rather be in the presence of the Designer.

  “Hang on, Thalli.” Berk sets me down. He begins placing something on my legs. Pants? I try to open my eyes. The light hurts them, but I keep trying. Berk is wearing a thick white uniform of some kind. There is a kind of helmet beside him.

  “Help me with this.” Berk is speaking to . . . Rhen?

  “I still think this is unwise.” She says this, but she bends down and forces my arms into the heavy sleeves.

  “We need your logic up there.” Berk zips up the uniform. It feels twenty degrees hotter in this.

  “But my sickness.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Berk says. “You are well now.”

  “Are we ready?” John. John is here. And Rhen. And Berk. Maybe this is heaven.

  I feel myself being lifted again, feel the ache in my head intensify, feel the weight of the uniform pressing down on me. No, this is not heaven. But it is an escape.

  “Where are we going?” My voice sounds strange, but everyone stops as soon as I speak.

&nb
sp; “Thalli.” Berk’s face is by mine. His eyes are on me, assessing me. I am sure he is wondering how badly I was damaged by the gas.

  “Where?” I need to know the plan.

  “We’re going outside.”

  “Outside?” My mind is still fuzzy. He pulled me from the annihilation chamber to take me, Rhen, and John outside?

  Berk sets my feet down and puts his arm beneath my arms to support me. With his other arm, he points toward a large metal door. “Outside.”

  Rhen and John put on their helmets. Berk follows, then helps me put mine on. It is heavy, but with a flip of a switch, it pumps in oxygen. I cough as my lungs adjust to the concentrated air in the helmet.

  “They won’t bother us up there.” Berk’s voice is beside me, coming from a speaker attached to the side of the helmet.

  “But we cannot live up there.” I begin to panic. Death by garden sounds much better. “We won’t make it more than a week.”

  “Have faith, Thalli.” John’s voice fills my helmet. “As we have seen, the Scientists don’t know everything.”

  I look out of the helmet, the clear front allowing me to see only what is ahead of me, nothing to the side. John is opening the door. I imagine our uniforms being melted off, eaten away by the poison in the air.

  Berk steps forward, pulling me with him. “We walk by faith, right, John?”

  “We certainly do.”

  “But there’s no food.” I lean back, trying to delay our steps. “No water. No air. The earth isn’t habitable.”

  “Berk’s logic is difficult to refute.” Rhen is speaking, her voice calm and measured. “We can either die up there or die down here.”

  Yes, irrefutable logic. So I allow myself to be propelled forward, outside. Walking by faith.

  EPILOGUE

  Do you see them?” Dr. Loudin speaks into his communications pad.

  “See for yourself.” The wall screen in front of the Scientist comes to life. He sees an image taken from a recently recovered satellite. Four dots of orange move across the surface of what was once Colorado.