by Jane Redd
I opened my eyes.
“That’s better.” Sol exhaled, and his breath brushed my face.
I wanted to hug him. Hold onto him like Rueben had allowed me to do. What would Sol think? That I’d turned crazy? Well, maybe I was. Clinical, anyway.
I had to shake away my thoughts, focus on something else.
“What happened to—?” I couldn’t continue.
Sol could always read my thoughts. “Rueben will be found soon.” He was watching me intently, studying my face, like he always did.
“He escaped, then?” I couldn’t quite meet Sol’s eyes, afraid of what my face might reveal.
“He must have sensed us tracking both of you,” Sol said. “There was no one in the alley when we came through.”
Sol hadn’t even seen Rueben. That meant he’d already fled. I wondered if he’d intended to climb up into the factory at all. My head started to pound again. Had Rueben set me up and then abandoned me? Had he always planned on going to the Lake Towns on his own? Was he not the friend I thought he was? Or had he been trying to protect me?
My breath left my chest as I considered the possibility that Rueben’s final words to me were really a planned goodbye. If we get separated, or if anything happens to me, I want you to pretend that I forced you to do this.
Was that Rueben’s way of telling me he was leaving without me? That it was for my own good?
I blinked and looked at Sol. He was still watching me, and my cheeks warmed beneath his gaze. Could he see my emotions?
“What will happen to him when he’s caught?” I asked.
“Hopefully he’ll be sent back to prison. After what he did to you—”
“He didn’t do anything.”
Sol’s eyes narrowed. “He cut out your implant, Jez.”
He did what I asked him to, and now he knows I have a second implant. I stiffened, remembering that Rueben had told me to let them believe he forced me to escape. But Sol wasn’t them. He was my friend. I had to at least try to explain. “It wasn’t what you think—”
“Good morning,” a voice interrupted. Dr. Matthews stepped into the room. “I’ve come to say good luck. I’m on my way back to the prison.”
Sol stood and greeted the scientist. I didn’t like the look on Dr. Matthews’s face. I’d never seen him not frown. It was almost like he was happy. Almost.
Matthews settled on a chair next to the bed, looking at Sol expectantly.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Sol said.
I wanted to tell him to stay—that Matthews could say anything in front of him, but something in the back of my mind told me not to. I didn’t know what was true anymore. Had this all been a test from the beginning? Was Rueben involved? How much did Sol know that he wasn’t telling me?
With Sol out of the room, Matthews’s familiar frown returned.
“Was this a test from the very beginning?” I asked. “From when I got my inheritance?”
Matthews’s eyes shifted to the door, then back to me. “I don’t know about anything before you came to the prison. We were alerted that you left and told to find you and Rueben.”
“Why does the Legislature even care about me or Rueben? Why don’t you just have us Taken if you think we’re a threat?”
Matthews’s expression paled. “We’d never do that.”
I almost laughed, but covered it with a cough instead. “I saw the way you destroyed the other kids—maybe they’re still alive, but they’re not who they used to be.”
Matthews dipped his head.
Did that mean he agreed with me?
“You don’t understand, Miss J.,” he said. “The children who are altered are not Taken. They simply exist in another state of mind.”
Anger charged through me. “Did you ever consider there are worse things than being Taken?”
Matthews seemed to hesitate at that. “There is nothing after our life cycles.”
“You don’t know that. You can’t justify using children in scientific experiments.” It was cruel beyond comprehension. At least my comprehension. I doubted the level of Matthews’ thinking. He was just another man following government rules, no better, no worse than any other scientist.
Matthews leaned forward. “Only a very small percentage have tested as highly as you, Miss J.”
“I thought I was failing the tests.”
His voice was a sharp staccato. “Failure is in perception.”
I exhaled. Of course. They were lying to me from the beginning, so why not about the test results? “Is testing ‘highly’ good or bad?” I asked.
“It’s neither,” Matthews said. “It is what you are, who you are. Adjustments will only be made if necessary.”
“Are you going to alter me after all?” My shoulder burned as if in response.
“I don’t know.” He shifted in his seat. “You have a great depth of emotional sensitivity, something that is rare in our civilization. Regardless of your education, conditioning, and training, you’re still influenced by your emotions. An altering might erase all of that before we can determine the causes. We want to put you through training in order to fully explore the depth of your condition.”
“So I’m still being tested?”
“Essentially.”
My stomach clenched so tightly I had to take a deep breath to concentrate. Would the training allow me to learn more about the generators? “You either want me to be like everyone else, or not like everyone else. It can’t be both ways.”
“We realize that, Miss J.” His shoulders relaxed slightly. “But we think you’ll be more useful to us with your emotions intact. You’re being screened to provide research to the highest reaches of the Legislature—those who make decisions that affect the entire population of the city. We need to know if you’re willing to continue as a test subject.” He held up his hand. “Not in the extreme conditions of Phase Three though. We need your promise that you’ll be willing to dedicate yourself to the city’s success. We also need to know if your emotions are controllable through other methods. Only after all of that will you be a useful addition.”
I was quiet a moment, letting the words sink in. “You’re offering me a job?”
Matthews tilted his head. “I’m not offering you anything. You’ve already moved to the next level.”
I exhaled, my pulse jumping. “What’s that?”
“University. We’d like you to study neuroscience. We feel the more you know about the operations of the brain, the more useful you’ll be in helping the government research cases like yours.”
It wasn’t exactly the scientist I wanted to become, but it was better than being Demoted. “Do I have another choice?”
Matthews didn’t answer directly. “The success of your education will be up to you.” He paused. “You may even sit on judging councils one day, Miss J.”
My heart thudded at the memory of the black-robed Council of Judges. That’s not for me; I have an important assignment already.
“You can’t let anyone else know about it.” He paused, glancing at the door. “Not even Sol. He’ll know you’ve been released to the University, but not about your continued testing.”
How could I keep this from Sol? I took a deep breath. “Then why is Sol here now?”
Matthews assessed me, his frown deep again. “We know you’re comfortable with him. Sol will be taking you to the University when you’re well.”
It made sense, yet it didn’t. It was after the Separation. I wasn’t supposed to be with Sol, or any of the male members of my class for that matter.
Something was wrong here. Very wrong. Was Sol a part of this “testing”? I hoped not. I wanted him to be my Sol. My friend. The one I cared about more than anything.
In prison, all I wanted to do was pass the tests and get to the University, but now I wasn’t sure. Rueben had showed me that there were other things to live for, that there was another life out there. And what if I failed as a Carrier? What then?
“And if
I decide not to continue with this . . . testing?”
Matthews cleared his throat. “You’ll be altered. Depending on the outcome of the altering, you’ll be assigned to the level of society to which you can best contribute.”
Maybe the altering wouldn’t affect me, like it hadn’t Rueben, but what were the chances of that? I’d be living in another place, at another level, away from Sol. I had lost one friend already; I didn’t want to lose another.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll continue with the testing.”
Matthews nodded, as if he’d expected it. He stood. “The best of luck to you, then.” Something flashed in his eyes—was it compassion? Concern? It was gone as fast as it appeared.
“Thank you,” I said as he left the room.
Sol was back inside in a moment, his gaze questioning. I put on false calm and said, “I made it to the University.”
Twenty-one
The rain pelted against the tram windows, streaking across the glass as if in a furious race. I felt like the out-of-control raindrops as the enormity of what I’d committed to settled in my chest. Even with Sol sitting next to me, our arms nearly touching, I felt alone. I couldn’t tell him about the testing. It would be another thing I’d kept from him. Rueben, and now this. I hadn’t realized until now how freeing it had been to talk to Rueben, to someone like me.
The tram lurched to a stop, letting people off, boarding new ones. Those who stepped onto the tram were indistinguishable—all nameless faces, coats of gray and brown, dull eyes. I watched them closely, with renewed interest. Had any of them been to prison, been tested, or been altered? Did any of them struggle with emotions like me? Had any of them ever tried to remove their implant? Were any of them originally from a Lake Town? The world suddenly looked very different.
I closed my eyes briefly as the tram started moving again, gaining momentum until it matched the speed of the assailing raindrops. Exhaustion replaced any nervousness I might have felt as we neared the north perimeter of the city, where the University climbed up several acres of mountainside.
I wished time could slow and all the people on the tram disappear so that it could only be me and Sol again. We’d talk like we used to. He’d tell me stories about his caretaker’s grandfather, and I would tell him my worries about testing into the University. But that was all gone now, and time only seemed to speed faster with the moving tram.
I had toured the women’s portion of the University the year before with the fifteen-year-old class. Chalice had been with me, and we’d eagerly speculated which profession we’d be selected to study. For a moment, I wished I was that innocent and unassuming girl again, with the wide-eyed view of what the future might bring.
Now, my path was tailored and completely controlled. I had no allies, only more secrets.
I glanced over at Sol, grateful that they let us at least travel together to the University. Would he miss me, too? Once there, we’d hardly see each other. The Separation had taken place at school without me, after which the sixteen-year-old class moved on to various vocations or to University level for more training.
“Is Chalice already there?” I asked Sol, wanting to say something, anything.
His gray eyes leveled with mine. “Yes, I saw her at opening assembly.”
I felt relief. She must have stopped wearing her rings to class then.
The tram slowed and more people climbed off as more boarded.
When the tram started up again, I asked, “Did you get your first request?”
Sol’s eyes stayed on the window. “I did.”
“So, you’ll be a neuroscientist after all?” I asked, wondering why he was ignoring me. Look at me! Maybe he was thinking of having to say goodbye. Maybe that meant he’d miss me after all. I pushed those thoughts away.
Realizing I’d be taking many of the same courses as him, I said, “I’ll be training in neurology as well.”
That got his attention. Sol looked at me, his eyebrows lifted. “I thought you wanted to specialize in geology.”
“I did.” How could I explain without giving anything away? “Maybe after a few classes, I’ll change my mind.”
He seemed to believe me, and I tried to forget the speeding tram, hurtling through our last minutes together as if they were of no consequence.
“I’m glad we’ll be at University together,” he said, his tone calm, as usual.
“Me too.” For a moment, I wanted him to break. To really look at me and tell me that he’d miss seeing me every day. That he’d miss our talks in the school yard.
But he was calm as ever, observing everything, saying nothing.
The tram stopped and nearly everyone got off. The next stop would be the University. My heart rate sped up in time with the tram. As if in response, Sol said, “Are you ready?”
I blew out a breath. So he was noticing me. “Yes.”
He gazed at me, but I couldn’t quite read his expression. “Why did you really choose neurology as your specialty?” he asked.
My heart thumped. Had he seen through my lie or was he just curious? “It was being in that prison,” I said, thinking quickly. “There were some experiences there . . . things I thought I could help with. Make a difference.”
He just looked at me. Then he said in a low voice, “That’s what I admire about you, Jez.”
“What?” My breathing felt shallow.
“That drive that comes from deep within you,” he said. “Not everyone has that. Not everyone cares.”
You don’t know the half of it. You don’t know how much I care. I stared at him for a second until he looked out the window again. I’d seen enough of the dull-faced people getting on and off the tram today to know that many people didn’t care. Or maybe it was that they had no hope. No hope of hoping. People were assigned their lot in life almost from birth—they went through the motions, then life was over.
What’s wrong with me? I’m thinking like my grandmother. “I guess there must be something wrong with me.”
Sol exhaled, keeping his gaze forward. “How am I going to get through the University without seeing you every day?”
Heat rose in my neck. He still wasn’t looking at me, but something like sorrow was etched across his features, making the heat spread to my face. Don’t say anything else Sol—it will only make it worse.
I wasn’t sure how to respond without giving anything away. Finally, I said, “I guess you’ll just have to become a brilliant scientist to make up for my absence.”
He just stared out the window. I moved my hand so that it brushed against his. “Sol?”
His gaze flickered to me, and he pulled away, his face paling.
I felt the distance like a cold night.
“Jez, we have to be more careful now.” His gaze remained averted as if he were afraid to look at me. “Taking this tram together is an exception—”
“I know,” I whispered, and I did. The Separation had taken place; we were no longer considered kids. The rules of association between male and female were stricter now. I looked down at my hands and folded them determinedly in my lap.
Sol bumped my shoulder with his, the movement imperceptible to the others on the tram. “I hate the Separation.”
“Me too,” I said. “But it’s for the best.” It was the only way for me, at least, to be better than my grandmother.
We settled back into silence.
It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how much I already missed him. Even as I sat right next to Sol, it was like he was already gone from me. We wouldn’t be able to whisper together or speculate about the Before. We were going to the University and would be expected to follow all guidelines of the Separation, which included girls living and studying separate from the boys.
Sol leaned back on the bench, his expression nonchalant. I tried to do the same.
The tram slowed in front of the University stop. It was all happening too fast.
“Remember,” Sol said, “Don’t do anything to get
into trouble.”
“And why would I do that?”
He looked at me, his dark gray eyes steady. Eyes that I had seen in my dreams in prison. How could I say goodbye?
“Jez . . .” he began.
“All right. I won’t break any rules.” It came out as a stilted whisper.
The doors opened, and Sol and I stood. Through the doors I saw the two separate entrances to the University. One for men and one for women. Groups of students in clusters of umbrellas stood on the platform waiting to board. Sol and I slipped off the tram just as the students moved forward to climb on. We were separated in the crowd for a few seconds, then he found me and pressed something into my hand. “See you sometime.” And then he was gone, walking toward the men’s entrance.
I clenched my hand around the small object as the crowd shuffled past. I crossed the street and stepped up to the guard post, then raised my hand to the scanner under the guard’s watchful eye, and he waved me through. I continued toward the building on a broad sidewalk lined with trees and dripping bushes. Other girls hurried past me, carrying umbrellas in the driving rain. I didn’t open my umbrella, letting the rain drops pelt my face and hair, relishing the feeling after the time spent underground.
I looked toward the men’s side and caught a few glimpses through the iron fence of others walking. Without an umbrella, my hair quickly became soaked, but I continued my slow walk. The University building up ahead was pale yellow and two stories, although in the rain it looked almost gray, meshing with the sky so that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.
When I was quite alone on the sidewalk, I opened my hand. Inside my palm was a small stone. The color was unusual, a light pink with darker lines running through it. I lifted my hand so that I could inspect it as the rain pattered against my palm. Why would Sol give me a rock?
Then I noticed the carvings.
It looked like a cluster of leaves encircling each other.
Sol had given me a rose.
Twenty-two
My dorm room was at the end of a long corridor. From what I’d seen in passing, the other rooms contained two girls each, but I had a room to myself, a narrow space with a bunk bed of sorts. Bed on top, desk on the bottom.
