Anomaly (10 page)
When we finally reach the stairwell and the door closes, Berk turns to me. His eyes are different. Serious. He grabs my shoulders and looks at me with such intensity that, for a moment, I am scared.
“I have only been given one more day to test on you.” Berk’s voice is quiet, but the emotion behind it is not.
I nod, unsure of how to respond.
“I am trying to prove that your emotions can be modified. That’s why you have been in the cube. All the testing has been recording your responses, your brain activity, everything.”
“What do I need to do?”
Berk sighs and lowers his hands. “When I tested on the mice, I developed a serum that would alter their brain function.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t do that to you, Thalli.” Berk runs a hand through his hair. “It would change you.”
“So I am going to fail the test?” I refuse to consider this possibility. If I fail, I am of no use. I will be annihilated.
“No.” Berk pulls me farther into the stairwell and speaks so softly I can barely hear him. “I am going to inject you with a placebo. But only you and I will know that.”
“But how will I pass the test if I don’t have the serum?”
“The same way you managed to conceal your emotions from the Monitors all your life.” Berk manages a small smile. “You need to think like Rhen for the next six hours. Respond the way she would respond. Don’t react to the garden. Don’t enjoy the smell. Keep repeating to yourself that you know it’s only a simulation. Look at the screens, try to analyze them. The same with the city scene. Don’t show disgust or excitement. Try to look as disinterested as you can.”
“And the boat?” I don’t know if I can pretend I am not sick when it is moving.
“You can be affected by the motion, but not by the attack,” Berk says. “Physical responses to outside stimuli are expected. It’s the emotional responses you have to ignore.”
“What if I can’t do it?” Fooling the Monitors was different. Almost like a game. And, usually, the worst that happened if I failed was I was sent to isolation. But this—if I fail this, I am useless to the State. No, more than useless. Detrimental.
“You can do it.” Berk takes a step closer to me. I can smell the soap on his skin.
“And if I do? What then?” I don’t want to be sent back to Pod C. Not anymore. That would mean never seeing Berk again.
“Then I will go to Dr. Loudin.” Berk squeezes my shoulders. “I will suggest that we keep you here. He will want to run some tests too. I’ll try to stay a step ahead of them so you know what to expect.”
“And then?” I swallow hard. “Am I going to be a science experiment the rest of my life?”
Berk pulls out his pad and steps away. “We have been here too long. I need to get you to the lab.”
“I am scared.” All the possibilities for failure rush into my brain. If I get caught, the punishment will be severe. If I get caught . . . “You could get caught.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Berk stands straight. “You can do it. I know you can.”
Berk opens the door and we head toward the lab, toward the future.
T
he cube test is beginning. I try to imagine myself as Rhen in these simulations. As much as I want to watch the clouds pass, I do not. I glance at them and consider the technology that went into their creation. I breathe in the scent of the garden, but I try not to allow my face to reflect any enjoyment in that. It is just a scent, manufactured to imitate the smells of the plants and flowers that grow by our pods, in our greenhouses.
In the city, I look at the buildings and try to think of the primitive world they represent, not of the height of the buildings, the smells coming from the windows high above the moving sidewalks.
I prepare myself for the boat simulation. The motion does affect my stomach, but Berk said that would be all right. I try not to give in to feelings of fear when I see the other boat, with its tube pointing toward me. I jump at the sound of the first projectile. I hope that is recorded as a physical reaction, not an emotional one.
And then it is over. The cube is dark. I do my best to keep my breathing level normal. The serum Berk was supposed to have given me would make me feel nothing as I wait. So I try to feel nothing. To think about nothing. To be just like everyone else. Berk is right—I have done this for so long, it comes naturally. But, for a moment, I allow longing to fill my being, a longing to just be me and have that be acceptable. But I shove the thought out of my mind. It can’t happen. I cannot dwell on it.
The lights come on and I am escorted out of the cube. Berk is remaining at a distance, looking over the data, talking with another Scientist. Dr. Loudin, I am guessing. The one he wants to convince that I should stay. I try to read their lips, but I cannot. Trying to eavesdrop on their conversation is probably not the wisest choice. The serum was supposed to inhibit my curiosity. So I just look straight ahead, waiting for my instructions.
“What did you think of the simulation, Thalli?” Dr. Loudin is in front of me. I think of Rhen. How would she answer that question?
“The technology is quite advanced.” I mentally applaud myself for my response. Very Rhen-like. “The images are even clearer than what we have on our wall screens.”
“Indeed.” The Scientist nods. “We have some Engineers developing software to use those cubes rather than learning pads in education.”
I want to say how much I would have loved that—being
in
history rather than just reading about it. And music—writing a composition on the walls and the ceiling rather than just on my pad. But I don’t say that. Instead, I say, “Certainly a viable option for the younger generations.”
“I find your mind quite interesting, Thalli.” Dr. Loudin is looking at me with his eyes half closed, like I am a piece of DNA under a microscope and he is trying to analyze my makeup. “A Musician with advanced logic.”
Advanced logic! I want to stand up and shout. But that would not be logical. I do, however, glance at Berk. He smiles slightly, just enough for me to know this is a victory.
“Dr. Berk.” Dr. Loudin turns and plants a hand on Berk’s shoulder. “Your serum seems to work just as well on humans as it did on your rodents. Well done.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I would like to run some tests of my own.” Dr. Loudin looks at me with his microscope-eyes again. “You may return the patient to her room. And since this has been so successful, I will be giving you a new assignment.”
Berk looks at me and then back at Dr. Loudin. “Sir?”
“Report to my office once you have delivered Thalli.” Dr. Loudin walks away.
Berk opens the door and walks down the hallway, turning toward the stairwell. I cannot see his face, but he must be happy. He just cannot show it. Not here. But when the door closes, and we are alone . . .
“We did it.” I jump into Berk’s arms, but he does not return my embrace. I step back. Berk’s face is pale, unhappy. “What is it?”
Berk shakes his head. “Dr. Loudin is reassigning me. He wants to experiment on you, and I won’t be there to protect you.”
Understanding replaces my joy with fear. “What type of experimenting does Dr. Loudin do?”
“His specialty is brain research. But he does much more. I don’t even know half of what he does. So much of it is secret.”
Brain research? I fall back against the wall.
“I’ll try to talk to him. I’ll try to convince him to allow you to work with us, that further experimentation isn’t necessary. We need you exactly the way you are.”
I hear what Berk
isn’t
saying. That this experimentation could be terrible, destructive. That I would be nothing more to Dr. Loudin than an interesting test subject, a human lab rat. That he has no intention of allowing me to stay here with Berk and the others, or even be returned to Pod C.
“Thalli.” Berk is standing inches from me. I am hyperventilating. Berk pushes my head down so my breathing will return to normal. He rubs my back as I am bent. Finally, I stand again. I take his face in my hands. The feel of his stubble on my fingers is overwhelming.
“I am all right.” I look in his eyes, memorizing every detail of them. “You did everything you could. You made these last few weeks wonderful. The most wonderful of my whole life. I am glad I got caught. I’m glad I got to be with you, to experience this.”
Berk closes his eyes. “Don’t talk like that.”
“It is true.” I lean into him, listening to his heart.
“I don’t know what to do.” Berk leans his head against mine. I don’t say anything. I just enjoy this moment, knowing it might not come again.
“Dr. Berk.” The voice from Berk’s pad sounds like a shout in the quiet stairwell. “You are needed in laboratory M.”
“You need to go.” I pull away. Berk looks at me, looks into me, and then he sighs. A deep sigh. I understand.
I open the door. I know Berk doesn’t want to leave, but it’s my turn now to protect him. So I lead the way. Back to my room, away from Berk.
I
don’t want to wake up. I was dreaming about Berk and me in a city, walking together. No Scientists were around. No cubes. No tests. Just him and me. And freedom.
But when I open my eyes, I am not in the city. I am not with Berk. Berk is an important Scientist, and I am just an experiment.
The door opens and an Assistant comes in. She brings me my breakfast, lays the tray down beside my sleeping platform, and then stands by the door.
I sit up straighter. Why is she staying here? Usually she just leaves my tray and walks back out.
“You have ten minutes to eat and get dressed.” She waits until I pick up a piece of fruit. A plum. I bite into it. She doesn’t leave until I swallow. I finish the plum without thinking. I take a few bites of the toast, but I can’t finish it. I have ten minutes.
I get dressed, pulling the white uniform shirt on, the white pants, the white shoes. The door opens. A different Assistant enters. Who is she and where will she be taking me? What is going to happen to me?
I cannot dwell on that now because the Assistant is talking and I should be listening. Something about a chamber.
“You will remain overnight.”
I am listening now. “What?”
“The isolation chamber,” the Assistant repeats, never slowing down as she leads me down a hallway I have never seen before.
I stop. “The isolation chamber?” They know. They found out about Berk and me. I am being punished. I don’t mind. I was prepared for worse than isolation. But what will happen to Berk?
“Please follow me.” The Assistant does not stop.
“But . . . why? I . . .” I have to run to catch up to her. She doesn’t even turn around.
“This is part of another test that the Scientists are conducting.”
“What is the test?” I slow down and pull oxygen into my lungs. It is a test. Not a punishment. Berk will be all right.
“You are the test subject.” The Assistant’s voice is almost mechanical. “Your instructions are simply to remain in the isolation chamber until I return for you.”
“And when will that be?”
The Assistant does not respond. She simply stops before a metal door and turns the handle. I have been placed in isolation before. In Pod C. The last time was when I escaped to find Dr. Spires dead and to be reunited with Berk. But this is different. This room is spacious. It has coverings on the floor, a large sleeping platform in the corner with four white sticks protruding up from it. The sticks are decorated with flowers and leaves. It is pretty. The platform is covered not with the typical white I always see, but a pink covering that looks soft and thick. There is a chair in the other corner with long, rounded legs and it is covered with padding, also pink.
The dresser is white, with a huge mirror above it. Mirrors are rare. I have seen just a few in my life. The Monitors said they were frivolous accents, remnants from the ancients that we have no use for. The room smells like flowers. I don’t have time to think about stopping the door before it closes. I am too overwhelmed with the room to think of anything.
I go to the chair and sit in it. It moves. I lean back and it leans back, in a smooth, soothing motion. I lean forward and it leans forward. I do this several times. I go faster, lifting my feet and using my knees to create momentum so the chair goes so far backward that it threatens to tip. I laugh. And do it again.
When I stop, I decide to walk to the mirror. The image in there is me. I know that. I have seen my image in the reflections of the windows at night. But this is so clear. I see every detail. I see what Berk sees when he looks at me. I take my hair out of its elastic so I look exactly the way I did last night. My hair has more colors in it than I realized. It is brown, but with subtle hints of lighter brown and blond mixed in. It is neither curly nor straight. Somewhere in between. My eyes are bluish-green
and large and my lashes are dark. I smile. My teeth are white and straight and I have dimples on my cheeks. When we were little, Berk teased me about my dimples. He said they were indentions left by the Scientists when they lifted me from my birthing pod.
I sigh. I need to stop thinking about Berk. Stop dreaming about him. I will likely never see him again. There is no use longing for something that can never be.
