by A. I. Zlato
No modern building was equipped with these floating rays any longer, because the latter always ended collapsing to the ground and projecting pieces of fluorescent glass. Some were still up, illuminating motionless children, with their faces stuck onto the glass, looking sadly outward. Baley sighed when she saw their depressed stares, and convinced herself that there was no other choice, for now, than to leave them here. She had to ensure that the idea of death was well out of their heads, before delivering them to their parents.
She checked the location of guards tasked with monitoring the building. She was not afraid that a child would escape; the teaching personnel were there to watch them. Moreover, they were not criminal adults seeking every means to escape from a prison. She worried, however, about journalists and other curious minds determined to enter the building, to seek ‘more information.’
She walked around the building, looking for every possible access point, checking the positioning of guards, and was fully reassured. Back at the main door, she entered, having identified herself with vigils and through the access terminal. The hallways resounded with steps of children heading to the hall, to start their day. She saw some, who were glued to the window, coming back to life and rush to school, too. She waited for silence to pervade the room, and observed the lecture. After gently opening the door, she saw them all sitting quietly, diligently following their math courses. Some were still weeping, but most had their eyes on the teacher and listened to the instructions for the exercise. She stood for a moment to observe them, seeing only ordinary children, except that these were going through special circumstances.
Some pupils in the back row seemed a bit excited, distracted by a frog that were apparently lost. Professor Rudy, a big, bearded guy, tried not to smile. He walked to the frog, and took it. Not knowing what to do, he placed it in his empty coffee cup, from which the creature escaped immediately, triggering general hilarity.
Baley smiled, not so much about the comical situation comical, but happy to see these children regain their joie de vivre so easily, despite the context. She was pleased to see their cheerfulness, to celebrate the hope it gave her for the future. She offered to be the official frog guardian until the end of class. The boy on whose table the frog had landed, seized it with both hands and gave it to her. The lesson went on more or less normally, regularly interrupted by the croaking, which made students giggle. When class was over, they all fled to the playground, or rather to the hall that had been dedicated for that purpose. Baley took the opportunity to release the frog into a little garden, which she found stuck between two floors, and that was probably the usual place of quasi-residence for the amphibian.
She went back into the room, soon joined by the entire team of teachers, for a debriefing. So far, the team had not managed to talk to children about their beliefs. All lectures and play sessions were going very well, given the circumstances. They behaved like children, happy, sad, turbulent, and full of life. However, as soon as one talked about religion, they would seek refuge in their mental shells. They admitted to believing in God, to going to church, but that was all they would say.
They categorically refused to say more. Attempts to discuss suicide had triggered no particular reaction, and tests conducted by the psychologists did not identify any morbid tendency. There was an impasse. For the moment.
Baley agreed with the team to come back every day, to try to establish trust with the children. She thought the comical situation with the frog was a good start. A professor suggested they introduced her as the academic dean, but Baley flatly refused. She had already met the Sofar children, as a Special Agent. She would not envision building a relationship of trust if she was already starting with a lie. Therefore, she would remain a Special Agent, although it was not necessary to go into details.
The internal clock of the building, set on school timetables, notified teachers of upcoming classes. Children arrived in the room, in a joyous cacophony. Rudy asked for silence, and introduced Baley, as expected.
“Well, Ma'am, what are you here investigating?”
“Is it because of you that we are here?”
“When will we be able to go home?”
“Where is the frog?”
The deluge of questions was endless.
“Hi, I will try to answer all your questions. For starters, the frog is doing fine. I dropped it in the garden, which is right down the hall. It will be fine there. You can go see it if you want.
Then, let me explain a little the Special Agent profession. You all know that the Machine ensures that the Equilibrium is maintained. Right? The Equilibrium is that which enables us to live together in the City. Sometimes, things do not go as planned. The Machine then uses me to solve problems.”
“What about us? Are we a problem? Is that why we are here?” A little boy queried.
“No, honey, you're not a problem. If you are here, we want to protect you. When the danger is over, you can all go home. But for now, you'll stay a little longer here.”
“My mom ... I miss her”, continued the boy.
“Me too!” “Me too”, said others.
“And I'm sure your parents also miss you very much.”
“And when will the danger be gone?”
“Hopefully soon. I will come every day. I will come, as I’m doing now, to talk to you, and I will be the one to tell you when to go back home.”
“Maybe our parents can come to see us, if we are not allowed to go out, said a girl.”
“No, it is not possible now.”
“They, too, are in danger?”
“No, darling. But, you know, these are stories for adults. I promise you it will not last long. If you are wise, and you listen properly to your teachers, you will go back home very soon.”
Baley left the class with a heavy heart. She could not explain to the children why they were away from their families, or how they could manage to go back. She could not tell them that they should renounce some of their beliefs, because it probably would lead to the... Problem. No, she could not.
After the mandatory stop at the Tower, she went back to see the children several days in a row. She only crossed Lars and Iris, haphazardly in the pantry or on the doorstep, as she was endlessly focusing on the investigation. They had never reproached her till now, except Iris, who did during their last discussion. Lars knew how her job was important to her, and how this investigation was crucial.
Nevertheless, it was painful to live while feeling apart from them, if not physically, at least mentally. These thoughts quickly faded when she entered the building, seeing these children, who said hello to her merrily.
By now, she had managed to know each of them closely, and to know their passions, their characters, and sometimes even their secrets. She did everything she could to get into their world, to get them to talk, especially little Maxim, with whom she had discussed at his parents’ home. Every day, Baley would spend an hour with him. He was a joyful and playful boy who loved to play with her, always displaying great intelligence. Today, she decided to address the issue frankly.
“Listen, Maxim, you know there are children like you who are dead?”
“Yes, I know.”
“And do you know why they wanted to die?”
“No.”
“What about you, do you want to die?”
“No.”
“And you think something might make you want to die?”
“I dunno.”
“What would make you want such a thing?”
“I have to remain pure.”
“And if you're no longer pure, what happens next?”
“I have to remain pure.”
“But what would happen if you were no longer pure?”
“I must not.”
“What do you do if you think you're not gonna be pure?”
“I must not.”
The boy began to cry, and Baley regretted being the cause, but she had to know. It was necessary to ensure that once the children re
turned home, they would not fulfil their suicidal desire.
“Maxim, please listen. I love you very much, you know, I would not want you to die. Talk to me.”
“I do not have the right. If I speak, I would not be pure, and I must remain pure”, he said, crying harder.
Another dead-end! She could not envision how to get them out of their beliefs. Testimonies that Sandra had summarised for her did not help much. It was one thing to listen to a story, and understand the sequence of events leading to the release of a sect follower ... it was another to have to apply the same method on children. She took Maxim in her arms, trying to appease him. He did not resist, but continued to cry until she loosened her grip to let him go. She had, with a few questions, ruined days of effort to tame the little boy. She had to start over.
She discussed, as she did every day, with the teaching personnel, who were not making real progress. The children remained watchful, curious, open-minded ... as long as no one asked them about religion.
Baley sent a message to Sandra, through the lab, asking for a written summary of her readings. She could communicate such synopsis to the teachers. They would then have first-hand accounts, and not transcribed data as Baley had understood it. Maybe that way, they all would find a better approach. A few minutes later, she received the required summary and transmitted it to the four teachers present.
They all read it attentively. When they finished, Baley asked them what they thought, if that gave them some ideas on how to act.
“I knew this would not be easy, but I had not imagined the anguish, confusion ... that this could cause. Getting out of a sect, I mean”, murmured Barbara.
“I conclude that we are on the right track. It's just that we have to be more patient, what do you say, Baley?” Rudy asked.
“The concern is that we don’t have too much time. The City is on the verge of explosion. Some people say we should lynch Chrijulam followers, to make sure we permanently stop the Problem. Others, especially followers or supporters of the sect, are threatening to force the door of the building to retrieve children.”
“And what do you suggest?” He continued.
“A more direct approach. Whenever you or I broached the subject of religion, we dropped the ball when children started weeping or became silent. We need to be stronger, especially when naming things, and tell them clearly that their beliefs may trigger suicide thoughts in their minds, and that's not good.”
“Are you kidding? You saw how Maxim felt, after you interrogated him. He was traumatised! And you are suggesting we go harder?” Agatha queried.
“I think, by trying to hold them like eggs, we end up generating a lot of anxiety, hence these tears. If, however, we say things exactly, that will be easier for them. Although, of course ...”
“Easier ... I cannot believe this! I’m warning you, if you persist in this path, I will leave the building and ...” Agatha said.
“So what ? You’re going to tell reporters everything? Do you really think you can threaten me, a First Circle Special Agent?”
“No, but …”
“Now, if any of you does not agree with my proposal, he or she can always leave. I will give instructions to the Machine to lock your personal memories related to what happened here, before we let you go.”
“So you start the conversation by providing us with interesting stories, asking us what we think, how to improve our methods. And, a minute later, you come up with a solution and you want to force it upon us. Is that correct?” Said Raphael, who had remained silent until then.
“That is your interpretation, but yes. I am the one in charge of the investigation.”
“In this case, either we stay with you and we obey; or we quit, entrusting the children and their fate to only you, he continued.”
“That's it.”
“I am staying, for the sake of the children only”, said Agatha.
“I am staying”, replied the other three, tersely.
Baley decided to implement her approach, and followed Rudy into the great hall, where children sat awaiting their math class. Maxim had dried his tears but looked at her suspiciously.
“Hello children! How are you today?” She asked.
Some answers sprang into the room.
“Kids, I think you've all heard of the Problem ... children like you are dying.”
A few heads nodded in assent.
“I know that you learned that you had to remain pure. Do you sometimes want to die, to stay pure?”
“We must remain pure, Ma'am, that's all”, said Maxim.
“I know, Maxim, but ... do you think this is a good reason for wanting to die?”
“But since we must remain pure! Anyway, we will have a life after death, and it will be better than here!” Another boy said.
After making such a statement, all children got up and approached him, telling him to be quiet. Baley had before her a compact block of children, with looks both hostile and frightened. She was not discouraged, and decided to continue.
“I know you were told not to talk, but listen to me, please.”
“I must not,” “I should not,” “I have to stay clean, no matter what” ..
Children’s murmurs pervaded the room. Again and again, deadlocked. Yet she had to persevere.
Baley was about to resume when Barbara burst into the room. She was livid.
“What is going on ? Is there is a problem with the kids? Baley asked, while staring at each of them.”
“No, no, these ones are OK ...”
“What do you mean, these ones?”
Baley excused herself and hurried out of the room, fronted by Barbara and followed closely by Rudy. They turned on the news channel.
“.. The Problem just reappeared in the Fourth Circle. Twenty-three children were involved. This is the worst Problem case found so far ... And already there are voices calling for the release of the removed children, and the rehabilitation of the Chrijulam faith ...”
Baley felt her heart stop. That could not be possible. Everything was under control, the children of the sect were all here, she validated her hypothesis ... she ...
The shadow area in her brain, inherited from the action the Machine took when she had asked It to clear her subversive thoughts, moved in. As if her subconscious mind wanted to reveal ideas, which, however, should be kept in the shadows. The trigger factor for the suicides ... changes ... like a volcano on the verge of eruption, thoughts broke out, threatening to engulf her. No ! No ! She had to exit this impossible reality and go to the suicide site. So, she left Rudy and Barbara, also devastated. Raphael then joined the group, and, given their depressed faces, saved any comment. Baley rushed out, leaving behind the children who had become more suspicious of her, teachers who had somewhat similar opinions, and, now facing her, a new Problem.
She went to the scene of the tragedy, and looked incredulously at small bodies spread out in circle, lifeless. This should not have happened. No, it should not have. She reviewed the various elements of the scene. The place, the positioning of children over three concentric circles, their faces ... That was not possible.
Desperate, she remembered the last events, the logical paths that led her to believe that Chrijulam was the source of the problem. Where was the mistake? What had eluded her? Had she been biased, given the absurdity of their beliefs? Had she seen a too-obvious target? What had she missed?
And her brain refused to be silenced! The barriers imposed by the Machine were giving way, leaving in her mind a chaos of ideas, sentences, pieces ... like multiple voices in her head, which wanted to convey a message.
She left this place of desolation, allowing the experts to be busy. She could not do anything to help. She went to the Tower, to seek refuge, to find answers, explanations. She tried to be discreet, during the journey. To no avail.
“So you removed the children from their parents for nothing!”
“You stigmatised a religion, and all that for what? I demand a public apology to
Chrijulam.”
“Which community are you going to target now? Which poor people are you going to cast aside?”
“When will finally the Machine do Its job? I refuse to see my children die, do you hear? I REFUSE !”
People attacked her, talked to her, even insulted her. The City was on the verge of riot. Her fault.
She took refuge in the Tower and literally fell on the interface of a column, to request an interview, although the deadline had passed. A short message informed her that her request was validated, and she threw herself into the elevator, on route to the first floor.
She saw a huge, dark, cramped, cold corridor. She walked in silence, her footsteps echoing in the darkness, all the way to the small membrane, lying on the ground. She pressed three fingers, unable to deploy her entire hand, as the area was tiny. The contact with the data stream, which ordinarily boosted her energy level, did not have much impact. She wanted the Machine to reassure her, to tell her that she had done the right thing ... but that was not possible.
“Thread: solution to the end of young humans
Instruction: extraction of humans
Instruction complete
Instruction: Reprogramming of humans
Pending instruction
Instruction: human protection
Pending instruction
New instruction pending
End Thread: pending”
The Machine had analysed the data ... the sidelining of children, the protection of the building where they were staying, and the protection of their parents; all this had been successfully achieved. However, the mission was a failure. The Machine awaited further instructions from her, and Baley had no clue what to do.
She put in a final question. She wanted to know if the parents of these twenty-three children belonged to Chrijulam. The answer, brief and pithy, informed her that the probability was less than five percent. It was clear. She had failed miserably.
