“Ahh …” Understanding began to dawn on Eli, but only slowly. “So, you know this story already.”
“Oh yes. I know it well.” Grandfather took the book in his hands and flipped gingerly through the pages. “This is quite a discovery indeed. I didn’t think any more of these existed.”
“I’m about halfway through.”
Grandfather nodded, still examining the ancient thing. “I’m so glad you found it. Tell you what, Eli. Why don’t you let me keep it here in my office where it’ll be safe from harm? We don’t want this lying around. What if it gets lost again?”
Eli hesitated. He’d been so sure Grandfather would let him keep it. Now he wanted to kick himself. “Actually,” he said, “I was hoping to keep it with me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take good care of it, I promise.”
The old man seemed to study him, taking a deep, wheezy breath as he did. “All right,” he said, his smile returning as he handed it back. “You found it, so I suppose it was meant to be yours. But keep it safe, child. It’s worth something.”
Eli had trouble fitting in with other children. Later that day, when his younger cousins drifted in groups to various play activities, one group called out, “Come play a dream game with us, Eli!” Another group, one that included Sebastian, called, “Eli, come watch the CloudNet spheres! We’re streaming Kidz Gonna Zap Ya Dead! and then Babette, Time-Traveling Vampire Dancer!”
“No, thank you,” he answered.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like spending time with his cousins. He just wasn’t interested in CloudNet streams the way everyone else was. Instead he wandered off to a secluded corner with the Alice book. Last time it had been one of the old-style volumes from Grandfather’s shelf, a story titled The Call of the Wild, by Jack London, which turned out to be an adventure about a dog in a strange, frozen wilderness. Eli had always been intrigued by how different the world must have been years ago, back before the Warm Times and the domes. He pictured himself running through snow and sliding across sheets of ice. It was hard to imagine that such things had once been commonplace in Providence during the wintertime many years before the city was domed. Eventually two of Eli’s aunts had stumbled across him curled up on a sofa. When he’d looked up and noticed the aunts standing over him, he’d caught them giving each other what looked like secret glances of concern.
“My brothers and sisters and I are worried about that child,” he’d later overheard Uncle Hector complaining to Grandfather. “Have you noticed how much time he spends with those confounded paper antiques of yours? The boy has hardly any normal interests. Mark my words, we’re going to have trouble with that one.”
“Nonsense,” Grandfather had replied. “The child is no trouble at all.”
Uncle Hector hadn’t looked too convinced.
Today Eli found a quiet chair, big and red and comfortable, by a window in one of Grandfather’s sitting rooms. He opened the Alice book to the page where he’d left off. It was a peculiar story about a little girl who wanders into fantastical worlds where playing cards and chess pieces walk around and animals talk. Throughout the book there were little poems, and these Eli especially enjoyed. He mouthed their sometimes outlandish words as he read them.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Much of it was nonsense, but it was glorious nonsense. The author played games with language and logic. Eli was mesmerized, and as he lost himself in the story, the world around him seemed to fade away.
Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!
“There you are,” interrupted a breathy voice. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to. What have you got there?”
Eli looked up. Partway across the long, sparsely furnished sitting room stood his eldest cousin, Spider, Uncle Hector’s son, alone and half-hidden in shadows. Spider was twenty-four, pale, and painfully skinny, with hair that had turned prematurely white. Eli had always been wary of him. Years earlier, when Eli was six, Spider had brought his new InfiniZapper to one of Grandfather’s parties, snuck up on him, and zapped him painfully in the back. Spider had then dragged his immobilized body down an empty hallway to a pantry at the back of one of the far kitchens and had left him there. Mother and Father had later found him trapped behind a giant bag of potatoes.
Since then Eli had steered clear of his most senior cousin.
“Well, well,” Spider said, squinting at the cover. “Where did you find this old relic? Oh, of course. It’s one of the old man’s.”
Eli didn’t correct him.
“Is it any good?”
“Yes …,” he answered guardedly. “What do you want, Spider?” Spider, of course, was just a nickname used within the family. His real name was Hector Papadopoulos III. Eli wasn’t sure why they called him Spider, but he’d heard a rumor it was because his cousin enjoyed pulling the legs off bugs.
Spider looked hurt. “There’s no need to be unfriendly. I’m just saying hello to my little cousin, that’s all.” He smiled. “You don’t mind if I have a quick look at it, do you?” Before Eli could answer, Spider snatched the book from his hand. He hummed to himself as he flipped through the pages. Soon he was shaking his head. “A rabbit with a watch? Frogs in wigs? Playing cards that talk?” He snorted. “Gibberish. Pathetic.”
Eli felt his blood rise.
“No wonder we don’t make these things anymore. Such a waste of time. I’ve been hearing that you’ve had your head in the clouds, Eli, but I had no idea the situation was quite this … dire.” With another snort, he handed the book back. “I don’t understand what goes through Grandfather’s doddery old mind, sharing his artifacts with you. But then again, who understands the old geezer?”
Eli held the book tight in his lap. He didn’t answer.
Spider put his hands in his trouser pockets and turned toward the window. “Actually, Grandfather is the reason I was looking for you. I’ve been watching, Eli, and I’ve observed how much time you and he spend together. How informative it must be to receive so much special … attention from the CEO.”
Eli didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t as if Spider didn’t have contact with Grandfather. Because he was the son of Uncle Hector, who would take Grandfather’s place as chief executive officer someday, everyone assumed Spider would be next in line after him. He already held the top position in the Department of Loyalty, an important branch of the Division of Freedom. Why Eli’s occasional time alone with Grandfather should matter to such an important person in the family, he couldn’t guess.
“What are you talking about?”
Spider spun around. “Oh, don’t think we haven’t all noticed the preference he’s always shown for you. But, as somebody who’ll be in charge of this company someday, I get uncomfortable when Grandfather closes his door and it seems there could be … secrets shared. Secrets I’m not privy to. So I’ve been wondering: whatever plot he’s hatching in there, whatever special information he’s sharing with you, perhaps you would be willing to divulge it to me?”
Eli stood up from the chair now, eyeing the doorway at the far end of the room. Spider wasn’t making any sense. He was scaring him. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said. “Grandfather isn’t hatching any plot. He doesn’t share any special information. All we do is watch his music box and play checkers.”
Spider’s expression went dark. All of a sudden he grabbed Eli by the collar, and Eli found himself nose to nose with him. “Don’t play games with me, little cousin. I just want to know where your loyalties lie. If you’d let me, I believe I could prove very … helpful to you. Or not.” He glowered at him. “You don’t want to cross me.”
Eli was too startled to respond. Loyalties? What on earth was Spider talking about? “But you don’t
understand,” he said at last, trying to keep his voice level. “I’m telling the truth. Grandfather doesn’t talk about any secrets or the company or anything like that. I have nothing to share with you.”
For a long moment Spider stayed quiet. “Your attitude disappoints me,” he said, his voice eerily calm once more. He let go and made a show of smoothing out Eli’s collar again. “You should know that my father is already concerned about you. The family is at a loss about where to place you in the organization. What InfiniCorp needs are leaders and innovators, not children who sit apart from everyone else and daydream about foolish old stories that mean nothing to anyone anymore.” He leaned in and prodded him in the chest with one of his long, skinny fingers. “All I can say is, you’d better watch your step.”
Eli’s stomach was in his throat. From the main ballroom the sounds of celebrating could still be heard. He wanted to get away from his strange cousin. He took a deep breath, and then he ducked around him and ran.
Spider didn’t move. He didn’t even try to stop him. He narrowed his eyes at Eli without saying another word.
* * *
Something extraordinary happened between Eli and Marilyn one evening later that week. It was just after dinner, and they were in the living room with Sebastian, who was having an argument with his instruction robot, a sleek, blue HumanForm named Dr. Avila. Sebastian had recently dreamed up a new business idea: InfiniCorp could sell security systems to Outsiders. He’d even worked out a mock business plan.
“But why shouldn’t we?” he was asking. “There’s an untapped market out there. Even criminals need to protect their stuff from other criminals. As long as they have something of value to trade with us, why not do it?”
Soothing music filled the room. Dr. Avila was programmed with a simulated personality and, unlike ancient Dr. Toffler, designed with a gender—female. At that moment her expression was peaceful as she balanced on one of her plastic legs while holding the other above her head with her chassis forward and her arms outstretched. She was following along with a CloudNet stream called Yoga for Droids.
“It’s an intriguing notion, Sebastian,” she said, holding her pose, “but impractical and potentially dangerous. You can’t trust Outsiders to act like civilized consumers.”
Eli was on the sofa, pretending to review his lesson, while Marilyn lay at his feet, watching him. All day long Eli had been feeling a weird sensation in his head. At first it had been only a distant, intermittent hum, almost like a mosquito buzzing around his ears. But now it was getting louder.
“How do we know unless we try?” Sebastian asked. “Isn’t Grandfather always saying the company is looking for innovative ideas?”
Dr. Avila raised one of her synthetic eyebrows. “I doubt doing business with savages is what he had in mind.”
All of a sudden the buzzing became so insistent that Eli had difficulty thinking. He sat up and held his hands to his ears. He wasn’t sure what was happening to him.
Too involved in his conversation to be aware of anything else, Sebastian didn’t notice. “I’m serious. If I could get permission to go Outside for just a few minutes, if I could only get close enough to some desert rats to try to talk to them, I bet I could prove my idea could work.”
Eli could barely hear past the static. When Dr. Avila answered, her voice sounded as if it were being transmitted over a distant radio signal. “You’d never get authorization to leave the dome for something so frivolous.” And then, after a pause, “Sebastian, what’s wrong with your brother?”
A moment later Eli became aware that he must have fainted. He was lying across the sofa and Sebastian was leaning over him, staring into his eyes. “Whoa, that was spooky, Eli. What’s the matter with you?”
“I … don’t know.” He rubbed his temples. The buzzing was gone, but he was still light-headed. “I just felt … strange, that’s all.”
“I think he’s all right,” Sebastian said to Dr. Avila. “Probably just catching a cold or something.”
The blue robot was standing behind him, watching over his shoulder, her tranquillity disturbed. “Perhaps …,” she said. “I suppose we ought to instruct the cooking droid to prepare him something healthy. In the meantime, you’d better help him to his room.”
Minutes later Eli sat up in his bed, sipping a bowl of macrobiotic soup. The cooking droid had insisted on making him the greenish liquid even though Eli felt sure that whatever was happening, it wasn’t a viral infection. Something had changed—he could feel it, like an unfamiliar channel in his brain.
He was still working on the soup, stirring it around more than actually drinking it, when he heard a voice.
Eli …, it said, an urgent whisper. Eli … It was deep and gravelly but clear. Still, at first he thought he’d imagined it. But then he heard it again.
Over here, Eli …
He sat up straighter. He set the bowl down.
It was the strangest thing. The voice sounded as if it were coming from inside his own head.
Marilyn hopped onto the bed. Settling near his feet, she licked her paws and watched him with what looked like curiosity. He studied her. Was it possible?
No, it couldn’t be. Surely not.
But he climbed out of the covers and put his face close to hers. He gazed deep into her eyes. She blinked.
And that’s when he knew.
Eli, dear, said the strange voice in his brain, would you mind opening your door to let me out? I have to pee.
He gaped at her. Somehow, she’d tapped a channel into his mind.
Marilyn was talking to him.
3
ruins
It was the strangest, most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. He had no idea why it worked, but it didn’t take Eli long before he learned more about how it worked. He was the only one she seemed able to communicate with in this way. What was more, the channel seemed to go in both directions. Within a few days he and Marilyn were conversing like it was the most normal thing in the world.
How far back can you remember? he asked her silently one evening, studying her on his bedroom floor with his chin in his hands. He was trying to find out if the chip enhanced her ability to recall things. Do you remember when you were a newborn pup? Do you remember the operation?
She stretched and yawned. No, but I remember soon after the operation, she said. At least, I remember something of what happened. But if you don’t mind, darling, I’d rather not think about it. Very unpleasant memories.
Eli didn’t push her, but over time he was able to piece together the few snippets she occasionally did reveal. Marilyn remembered that the operation had happened in a bright room lined with clear plastic. She’d woken up groggy, her head throbbing like it might split open. It was her earliest memory. Soon she realized something was moving on the other side of the room. Gradually her thoughts cleared, and over the next few hours she’d watched, horrified, as five other mongoose pups, her littermates, were taken from their cages one at a time and brought to another table where their heads were sliced open. Marilyn now realized she’d been the first. Of the six of them, only three had survived the operating table, and two weeks later Marilyn was the only one still alive.
It had been a profoundly upsetting time.
After that, she was kept in a special cage where electronic instruments recorded her every move. There were electrodes taped to her head. Men and women wrapped in brown cloth watched her through the mesh. She never saw their faces. Red-eyed droids with needles and sensory probes took hundreds of measurements every day. Her heart rate. Her brain waves. Her bodily functions, too numerous to imagine. The humans performed experiments on her too. There were daily injections, flashing lights, and complicated mazes she was forced to navigate. When she wasn’t being poked, measured, or injected, she felt desperate and alone in her cramped cage.
Then one day she was taken from that place. Marilyn remembered shaking with fear, but her captors had been kind. They fed her, played with her, and eve
n let her wander around in a large room with a sand floor. It was the first taste of freedom she’d ever known. The very next morning, though, she was packed into another cage and given an injection that put her to sleep. When she awoke she found herself in the care of a wrinkled old human with very little hair.
The experience had been terrifying, but in the end it turned out all right. This, of course, was because the wrinkled old human had been Grandfather.
And he had given her to Eli.
One afternoon a tremendous boom shook the sky. To Eli it sounded a lot like a thunderclap, only closer. It turned out to be a bomb. The CloudNet reported that somebody had sabotaged the air filter on the northwest perimeter and that the likely culprit was a criminal organization called the Fog.
Eli had heard of Fog attacks before. Foggers, the shadowy outlaws whose sole purpose was to destroy freedom by sabotaging the company, were a great mystery. Nobody seemed to know much about them except that they were twisted people who hated InfiniCorp. Every few weeks or so they tried to cause disruption, but rarely with such dramatic results. Today there were nearly thirty dead, a big deal. Grandfather declared a general state of emergency.
When Sebastian came to Eli and suggested they use the confusion to sneak Outside and check out the damage, Eli was only half-surprised. To all appearances his brother wasn’t one to break the rules, but Eli knew better than anyone that Sebastian wasn’t as tight as he appeared. He wasn’t above straying from the straight and narrow on occasion; he was just better at getting away with it than Eli. With his recent fixation on marketing to Outsiders, Eli should have guessed he would be more than a little curious about what was happening out there.
Besides, as Sebastian pointed out, neither he nor Eli had ever seen a real dead person.
The brothers decided to use back roads to lessen their chances of being seen. Not that anyone was likely to recognize Eli. Hardly anyone ever did. But lots of people knew Sebastian’s face. They didn’t get far down the street, though, before Marilyn ran up behind them, nipping at Sebastian’s heels.
A Crack in the Sky Page 4
