by Ann Christy
"Just look at Marina, at me and at Piotr," Taylor went on and Marina looked up at the mention of her name. "She couldn't stop looking and searching. She was compelled. And she is a fairly disciplined person as far as I can tell. And Piotr. He wouldn't stop going on about how knowing how long we had been down here would change the way people viewed things. About how they could better hope and work for a future. About what more we might find."
He stopped himself abruptly and his expression grew first hard and then regretful.
"You killed him," Marina said. She said it quietly but without doubt. She hadn't meant to say it but it had come out and she knew deep inside that it must be true.
All eyes shifted to Taylor then, some alarmed and others unsure. He just looked back at Marina. He nodded and said, "I did."
"Why?" Greta demanded. She had remained silent during Taylor's testimony. He had, after all, been one of the four allowed in on this secret and that brought people close very quickly. "Why would you do that?"
He shrugged again. With his hands tied to the chair, it seemed his shoulders had to do his expressing. "It just happened."
"No, that's not an answer. Killing people doesn't just happen," Greta said, rising a little in her seat and pointing an accusing finger at him. "You tell me right now."
"We were on the stairs and he just kept talking about how people would be if we could tell them why we came to the silo. About how that might mean it would all end with us back outside. He wasn't thinking! When I tried to explain what would really happen he just brushed me off. It was like he was just too excited to listen to sense!" He paused and swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut as he remembered. "Then the lights switched but didn't come back. We were standing there on the stairs, being still just like you're supposed to, and he told me that I didn't have enough faith in humanity. Enough faith?"
Taylor shook his head, his expression bitter. He looked at Marina and then Greta when he said, "Faith? Look at what happened with us. Imagine it on a larger scale. Imagine if everyone acted the way we did."
Marina knew what he was saying. She could see from the way Greta's eyes flicked away from hers that she understood it too. Marina had kept secrets and searched without caring about consequences from the moment she encountered the pocket watch. She hadn't just lied to her family, she had kept her clues even from those few who were supposed to share the secret. And Greta, she had forgotten that objective truth is to be found rather than leaping to conclusions. She became more a searcher than a historian. And Piotr, well, if Taylor was to be believed, then he had been filled with dreams of sharing their new possibilities with the silo. Taylor had become a killer. It was a very grim sort of math.
"I didn't really decide to do it or anything. I just did it. I pushed him. Hard. He went over," he finished, his voice fading away.
No one spoke for a moment, but each of the council members looked at the table and over what lay on it. Marina didn't know precisely what they were thinking but the fact that they were all thinking hard was clear. She wondered which way their opinion would go. She looked at the fading red lines of scratches on his hands and face and remembered the vandalism of the switch and knew that it was no sudden impulse. It would do nothing more except bring Greta pain to delve further.
Taylor was watching them too. He broke the silence and said, "I'm not a medic or a historian or anything like that. But I do know what people are like. If they find out that there are more silos and that those silos aren't necessarily Others and that we once talked to them, something will happen. The urge to know will eventually be too much. They will have to find out." He motioned once more to the little black books and continued, "I didn't get to read those so I don't know what they say. But I will bet you that if those are really from before, you'll find out that I'm right. I would stake my life that this was kept a secret before. I've had a lot of time to think about this. It will destroy us to know any of that."
Greta's face flushed and her eyes darted toward the Legacy and the chart and the pile of letters from Grace to Wallis with their faded ribbon holding them together. The mayor watched her and waited. So did Taylor, his agitation and hope and fear written on his face. Marina watched too and she saw all the emotions warring within Greta like they were written on her face. Finally she looked at the Mayor and said, "He's right."
The mayor gripped the Legacy book unconsciously but Greta held up a hand and continued, "He's right about some of it but not all of it. Historians have always vowed to bring truth to the silo, but it is very clear that we were never given the truth to begin with. And we have kept some things secret for the well-being of all on more than one occasion. I think there is a reason for that and it is likely those reasons mirror Taylor's own."
The mayor couldn't hold back any longer and he interrupted her with, "If you think we're going to destroy this...".
Again, she held up the hand. "No. That is where he is wrong. Some of this is already a part of our deeply held beliefs. Like the Tenets. Some of the other things," she pointed toward the chart, "may inspire just what Taylor fears. But we shouldn't even consider destroying them."
Marina held up her hand just as she did in her classes as a child when she hoped to be the one chosen to give an answer. When she was finally acknowledged, she said, "Unlike Taylor, Greta and I have read the Graham books. Though they are really Graham and Wallis books if we're precise. Aside from Taylor's assertion that everyone will go stark raving mad, Greta and I gave you the report on the place of the Others, Silo One."
The mayor nodded, shuffling in his seat uncomfortably. It had been a frightening report and they had completely overtaken the wire terminal in the Memoriam as they sent messages back and forth. Taylor's attention was riveted on her in a way that made her uncomfortable.
She had seen his eyes wide with rage and murder. It was hard to look at him now. But he hadn't had any access to the find other than what he had while she slept. That couldn't have been much. He must have been itching to know ever since.
"Well," she continued, "from the way the books are written, it seems as if the other silos are divided into sides. Some are with the Others and the rest are a part of some sort of resistance to them. We were on that side, obviously." There were nods all around. This much had been clear in their report. "But what we don't know is how that might have changed. If we decide that this silo 40 is safe because they helped Graham and Wallis and they have since switched sides or been taken over or whatever it is the Others do, then we might simply expose ourselves."
More nods came. This was territory they understood. Politics was a game that these people all played it to one extent or another.
"As it stands right now, the Others must think we're dead and gone, correct?" Marina asked the room but didn't wait for an answer. "If people do get the idea to go out and meet the silos, then the Others will know we’re very much alive. What Graham and his people went through might all start again."
Taylor's mouth hardened as she spoke and he shot a look at the council table. In his eyes was something like a dare, or a demand. "They don't necessarily think we're dead," he said. He said it with conviction and surety and he glared at Greta when he spoke.
Marina looked at Greta and saw the other woman flush. She wouldn't meet Marina's eyes.
Taylor went on. "Why don't you tell her what Piotr told me? Why don't you tell her how we know the Others are still out there? I know you all know it."
The mayor spoke up when Greta didn't. "That isn't for here, or right now. Greta, you and Marina know each other. It might be better coming from you."
Greta still wouldn't meet Marina's eyes, but she gave a stiff nod of acquiescence.
Marina asked no one in particular, "What? Something to do with me?"
"Not now. Really," the mayor said, his voice not entirely unsympathetic. "I agree that you should know. Honestly, I think we should have told you when you were adult enough to understand. But after enough years pass, well, it seems like it is best to just let
things go."
She was confused by his statement. Marina wondered what it could be. Her life had been utterly ordinary aside from losing her parents. Her train of thought stopped right there. Was that it? Was it something to do with how she and the other children lost their parents?
She looked at Greta, hoping to read an answer there but the other woman was looking anywhere but at Marina. She clenched her hands on her coveralls and tried to push it aside for the moment, reminding herself that she had gone her whole life without knowing whatever it was. She could get past this meeting without it.
"So what are you going to do with all that we found?" asked Marina.
The mayor sighed and smoothed his hands across the cover of the Legacy again. "We're going to have to figure that out. Let's adjourn."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Marina paced their room again. She'd been shifting from pacing to sitting to lying down for hours. Greta was ensconced with the rest of the council making decisions that would impact them all, even if only in that they made no impact because no one would know.
For herself, she couldn't decide what was best. If what Taylor and Greta thought was true - and Marina had read the journal of Graham and his words of uprisings and death in other silos - then they might inflict such a cycle on their own people. On the other hand, knowing where they came from and how they came to be would free them from uncertainty of another sort. It might give them all a goal for the future.
If she couldn't make up her mind on the subject, she couldn't imagine a room full of people deciding on the same course of action. How could they make such a decision? Of course, Marina thought, they could always change their minds later if they chose not to share and circumstances made it a better choice in the future. But if they shared now, they could not stuff it back into the deep if they realized later they shouldn't have.
Greta looked weary beyond belief when she finally arrived. She flopped face down on the bed she had taken for herself in their shared room. Her arms outstretched and hanging over the edges, she groaned into the covers. She turned her head to the side so she could see Marina and said, "It's over."
Marina arched an eyebrow. "And?"
"And, we're going to hold back most of it. The Legacy will be shared to some extent, but carefully. We'll put out as much information as is safe, but not necessarily in full context. And nothing about the other silos," she answered, her voice weary.
"Ah."
"I can't tell if that means you agree or disagree with the decision," Greta said.
Marina tried to decide that herself, but she still felt ambivalent. "I wouldn't have entirely agreed with either decision, I don't think," she answered.
Greta let out a short and bitter laugh. "You should be on the council. All of us feel that way." She rolled into a sitting position and motioned for Marina to sit. After she perched carefully on the edge of her own bed, the flutters in her stomach returning full force, Greta leaned across the space between them and gave her arm a squeeze. "Are you ready?"
There could be no question that whatever Taylor found so compelling and the rest of them so uncomfortable was the subject of her question. Marina nodded.
"You know what the Watch is, correct?” Greta asked.
“Of course. They come to talk to every class before graduation. To recruit,” Marina replied.
“Your parents were members of the Watch, Marina.”
Marina shook her head. “No. My father was a paper maker and copyist. My mother was an electrician.”
Greta inclined her head in agreement but said, “Yes, but they were also members of the Watch.” She sighed a sigh full of meaning. “This is going to be difficult. Will you just listen?”
“I’ll try,” Marina answered and laced her fingers together on her lap.
“The Watch was a little different then. It was what happened to your parents that tightened things back up. Do you know how it works?”
“Sort of. The recruiter said we would work Up Top one week in so many weeks or something like that.”
“Right,” Greta confirmed. “As of now it is one week in eight. Back then things had gotten pretty lax. Nothing had ever happened that anyone knew of and people sort of looked at it as a vacation. Couples would serve their week together and bring their kids.”
Marina’s thoughts went back to those memories of her father showing her all the things on the screen. Dim memories of a room with bars instead of a wall and playing with other children in front of a screen flicked through her mind. She nodded understanding and said, “My parents were like that?”
“Yes. Two people are on watch at a time. Two shifts a day. A night shift and a day shift. Your parents were on the dim shift. Another couple had the day shift.” Greta’s voice was soft but firm. She was watching Marina for a response. “Does any of this sound familiar?”
“Not really,” Marina answered, shaking her head. “I sort of remember the sun and the view and my parents, but nothing specific.”
“That’s understandable. You were very young. I was a brand new shadow when it happened so you would have been a few years old at most. Are you okay for me to continue?”
“Did my family get killed by Others? Is that what Taylor was talking about?” Marina asked, getting right to the point.
Greta sighed heavily and answered her. “That is what we thought at the time. Given what we know now, about the other silos, we may be wrong.”
“But it was people from somewhere else? How did it happen?”
******
What followed was almost too strange to believe but it made sense of the discordant images she had in her memories, like the one of the frightened face of her mother saying that she loved her. Greta had been patient with her and as complete as she could be. The truth was that there would be no way to ever know the entire truth since everyone involved was dead aside from the children.
What was known was that her parents were like all the other young people who joined the watch at the time. They served their week together, brought their young child with them, and had a good time while they were doing their duty. The other shifts were the same and all agreed that it had been so long since anything happened that it wasn’t even a concern anymore. It was good duty and gave them a whole week away from the drudgery of work while getting paid to enjoy the view.
What wasn’t known were the details of that night, the night her parents died. The day shift had been woken by her mother, frantic and claiming that an Other was walking down the ridge toward them. The day shift had, in their turn, used the terminal to send an emergency wire to the Sheriff that stated just that. By the time the sheriff and deputies had arrived, both shifts were either outside or in the airlock and a lone cafeteria worker was trying to operate the airlock without knowing what to do.
The cafeteria worker, an unlucky bystander, had been trying to recover her parents, who were in the airlock. Even then the silo had been trying to figure out a way to bring people back inside once they cleaned. So far, not one had been successful in a long term sense. Whether it was because only the terminally ill were allowed to volunteer or because the system wasn’t yet working was hard to parse out. Back then it was still an entirely new process and no one had been recovered at all.
The Memoriam writings of the First Heroes directed no repairs to the airlock purification system, which was somehow disabled during the battle, were to ever be attempted. Instead, they were to find another method of cleansing the cleaner with the eternal aim of bringing them safely back into the silo while allowing nothing from the outside in with the cleaner. Many things had been tried, without success, but the newest idea was to fill the entire airlock with water and wash whatever it was away. It was not working particularly well.
For her parents, it didn’t work either. Both had breached suits and the water that filled the chamber in an attempt to wash away whatever it was that killed people drowned them instead. The cafeteria worker had also cycled the airlock too quickly in his attempt to
retrieve them after the day shift went out. He hadn’t released water into the airlock to clean it first, exposing himself to the toxic air.
Aside from the evidence of her drowned parents, he told them little else before he died. Some contamination had leaked through and the sheriff and deputies had also begun to claim that their skin was burning. A quick thinking deputy had turned a fire hose on all of them and the whole cafeteria. That had finally halted the spread but didn’t save the cafeteria worker.
The day shift had dragged the blood soaked corpse of the “Other” in front of the screen and tried to pantomime coming back. They and their dead Other were lost from view and that was all that Greta knew of them. The next cleaner had written the message that they were on “the ramp” but that was all.
Greta had tried to be kind but there was no escaping the truth. Her parents had gone outside and then drowned trying to come back. When she asked about her memory of a dark room, Greta confirmed that the day shift had two children and that they, as well as she, had been crammed into a storage room within the cafeteria. The fourth child was the child of the cafeteria worker, whose mate had pre-deceased him.
Finally, she had her answers. The council had covered up the incident as a way to spare the silo worry, since no one really knew what happened. The sheriff had seen the limp body of someone in a different style of suit but that was all they knew. The Watch was re-structured so that no children came with a parent and no couples served together. It was a more serious watch from that day forward and had remained such. They still worked on a system for recovery and would continue to do so. That was some comfort to Marina.
That her parents died trying to defend the silo was some comfort as well, but Greta was right about that, too. Given that they now knew there were other silos and not all of them necessarily harbored Others, might that have been someone coming to try to meet them? What a terrible idea, Marina thought and shuddered for the poor person if that was what they were and not an Other at all.
