Silo 49: Deep Dark (6 page)

She flushed, both embarrassed and edified at his
understanding and his kind acceptance. She glanced back at Sela, who smiled too, and then turned her eyes toward the upward path. Marina realized she was far worse at hiding things from her family than she thought and her thoughts went automatically back to the image and note she had hidden under a loose tile in her workroom. She would either need to become a much more skilled fabricator of moods and words or she would surely be caught out.

She had realized, long before she tucked those two small bits of paper, now wrapped in thin plastic
for protection, under the loose tile that what she was doing...what she had already done...would probably mean a lifetime of remediation if she was caught. It wouldn't matter if every other facet of her life was tenet perfect. This wasn't just asking too many questions about outside or breaking tenets.

No, this was far more severe.  She had hidden proof of
a past that didn't match silo history and she had done it without going to the Historians. She possessed it and she meant to keep it if she could.

Ma
rina didn't want to be sent to remediation. She just wanted to know and the moment she thought there might be someone who would find out her secret, she would burn those relics of the past and be done with it. She wanted to know but not bad enough to lose her position and her family when it came right down to it. No, definitely not enough for that. Still, even the thought of destroying them made her stomach roil and feel queasy.

If she did go to
remediation, she would have to stay there until she was back to normal, talking about her feelings with strangers. Who knew how long that would take? Or she would be released a changed person like those vacant people one occasionally heard about that required the most drastic form of remediation. She didn't feel like she was going crazy or being dangerous. Well, that last wasn't quite true because it probably
was
dangerous to possess what she had found.

As they climbed up, she
tried to lose herself in her thoughts as the burn returned to her legs. Something that Mother Patrick had said to Sela when she explained how the Animal Farms worked came back to her and it kept prickling in the recesses of her mind. It reminded her of something from childhood that she couldn't quite bring into focus.

Mother Patrick had explained to Sela that animals followed very strict schedules of light and dark and that they were like humans in many respects. Just like we needed to ensure we spent some time each day under the special lights of the landings to stay healthy, the animals needed the same. That is why so many of those special lights were placed around the ceilings of the pens. They also needed a period of darkness, or near darkness, every single day or else they got sick. For that reason the red lights used after lights out in residential areas were also used in the Animal Farm.

As she thought about that, and why humans and animals should both be like that and have those requirements, it came to her like a slap on the face. The memory was an old one but it returned as clear and bright as the lights of the landing ahead of her. She had been young. She didn't know how young but it must have been very young because both of her parents were alive in the memory. It was from before she was orphaned by the accident that claimed the parents of three other children as well as her own.

She remembered the feel of her father, sweeping her up in an arc and into the crook of his arm as he carried her up the stairs
. He had pointed at different things on the Up-Top screen and named them for her. She remembered that as she had watched the screen, a fierce red glow burned at the edge and she had asked what it was.

He had explained that it was the sun and that it rotated around the land each day, disappearing at the end and leaving it dark until it came up again somewhere off the screen the next day. She remembered being fascinated by the idea of a light rotating around
like that.

Now it clicked together for her. Was that why both humans and animals needed both light and dark? Was it because outside the sun rotated around and was hidden each day, creating a regular period of darkness so that we had gotten used to it?
Perhaps the animals and the humans had come to need it over time and still did even here, under the ground.

Those
thoughts were interrupted by another strong and sudden memory. She had a clear memory of her mother, the expression on her face one that had frightened her. Her mother crushed her small frame in a hug and whispered, "Remember that I love you."

Then she was pushed away, other children crying around her, and into a dark space. As she had been shut in she remembered the tear stained face of her mother through the narrowing band of light and the door slamming the darkness all the way home.

Marina didn't realize she had stopped climbing until her husband's voice broke through the haze. "Marina? Honey? Are you alright?" His face swam into focus just below her. He stood on the step below her own, his hand lifted to touch to her cheek.

She shook her head to clear the fog and saw the faces of all the people behind them who had also been stopped. She blurted out, "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

She faced upward again and started climbing, this time counting the steps to be sure to maintain pace. A few people, mostly young ones or porters with express packages, called out "Passing Up!" and rushed past her. Most of the people she had caused to stop were not in such a hurry. Eventually they spread out again, a few steps between groups as people began to peel off from the traffic.

A small group left them on
Level 61 and that opened up a good area around the family. Marina glanced back now and again. Each time she met her husband's eyes, his were looking steadily up at her with a worried expression.
Great
, she thought.
Now he's watching me and he knows something is wrong.

Her mind's eye, now that this old memory had surfaced, kept trying to replay it and expand it for her. Each time she found herself remembering she pushed it away and focused on counting the steps. A good climb might seem like a good time to think, but only if one is capable of thinking and climbing at the same time. That was something the woman who had raised her and
the three other orphans used to say to her charges when they dawdled on the stairs.

Now she used the same trick she did then to avoid daydreaming. She counted stairs. No matter what she did or how studiously she counted, the image of the fear filled face of her mother whispering that she loved her kept flashing in front of her eyes. It was a harder climb that she had ever imagined any climb could be.

Joseph stopped the family briefly at
Level 56 to do a little shopping, returning quickly to the place Marina and Sela sat on the landing. He stuffed a parcel that smelled of herbs, sweet peppers and tangy tomatoes into the top of Sela's backpack. He patted her shoulder after he tied off the top and urged her to be gentle with it.

She laughed and asked if he thought she was looking to wear a jacket made of tomato goo. Her cheeky laugh cut through the
thoughtful silence Marina had fallen into while she sat, not having steps to count and keep it at bay. She stood and shook the tightness out her legs, trying not to think too carefully about anything. She smiled at the easy banter between the two just as she would normally do, but it felt stiff and unnatural on her face. At her husband's inquiry she assured him she was well before once again taking the lead for the final six floors to the hotel.

Those last stairs flew by as they dodged the increasing traffic. The first of the staggered early shift personnel were getting relieved and the second wave of those coming on duty took to the stairs. Families urged along
children dragging their feet and protesting that they wanted to be carried. Workers attired in coveralls of every color wove around slower walkers or simply trudged up at the pace of the traffic depending on their schedules.

Marina watched it all and thought it was lively and so much more beautiful than just walking to work. It was a parade full of life. Her own life circled around
so few levels that she saw little of what happened in the rest of the silo. As it was now, the only people she recognized were the two who traveled with her. It was a curious sensation to be among so many strangers.

The family bunched together again as traffic intensified, Joseph apologizing as he bumped into her pack after he himself was jostled by others leaving the stairs. On the landing of
Level 50, a wide fan of people funneled down to a single moving thread that crept forward slowly as each person joined the flow on the stairs.

Marina wondered where they were all coming from as she
wended her way through them toward the doors leading to the hotel. It was a mass of color, gray and blue, red and green and even a few wearing the faded pink of services. So many faces at once were confusing. She hurried through them, muttering her excuses as she pressed past and only feeling comfortable once she reached the doors. Once inside, there was an immediate surcease of noise. It was only then that she realized exactly how loud the sound of so many feet on metal had become.

They approached a counter directly in front of the entrance. Though it was open to either side where hallways led away at angles, it provided an effective mental barrier. Joseph pushed the button for service as
the battered and faded placard instructed. He was about to push it again when they spied a woman hurrying down the hallway on the left.

She waved and held up a finger to indicate it would be just a moment and then began drying her hands on a towel she plucked from the belt of her coveralls. She rushed up to the desk, bringing with her a waft of air tinged with the scent of disinfecting cleaner. She smiled at the group, one after the other
, and asked how she could help them. 

Their check-in went quickly. They were handed a combination card and told, with
another high voltage smile, that their room was near the outer edge of the hotel. It was one of their largest rooms.

The attendant, now revealed as Wendy, beamed at
them and strode with a no-nonsense gait down the hallway to escort them to their room. Her voice lowered as if to avoid disturbing occupants, she gave them a brief rundown of the hotel and the services available.

"Wendy, what's with all the traffic outside? The landing was packed. I didn't
realize this floor was so busy,” Joseph asked as he accepted the key card from her.

Wendy gave a little shake of her head, "You got here just as all the meetings are breaking up. There's a big one going on at the conference center about the aquaculture re-fit. You
know, the one on 30? We'll finally get fish on a more regular basis again!"

At the confused looks on her guests' faces, she elaborated, "Oh,
well, you may not know since you live so far away but two of the aquaculture tanks in hydroponics on 30 had to be shut down over the past couple of years. The whole thing needs repairs and now they're having problems on 49 too." She pointed up to the ceiling. "That's right above this hotel!"

All three of them joined Wendy in looking up, as if expecting to see a crack form and water come pouring out.

"Anyway, the council decided that a refit has to be done to get things back up to the mark and there's a big meeting there with dozens of people working on the planning for it. It's going to be a big deal."

Joseph eyed the ceiling suspiciously and asked, "It's safe, right?"

Wendy straightened up and said, her tone a bit aggrieved, "Absolutely. You can be sure of that. It wouldn't matter if every one of those tanks burst, the concrete between us and them is sound. I assure you."

Joseph nodded but Marina could tell he was looking at her with a lawman's gaze, looking for the truth behind her words. He was apparently satisfied because he said, "Well, thank you, Wendy. We probably need to get cleaned up before dinner."

"Do you need me to arrange that for you?"

Joseph answered, a broad smile cracking his face, "Nope. Not today. We're eating in the Wardroom."

Wendy's eyebrows crept up and she turned up the wattage on her smile a few clicks, "Then I certainly won't detain you further. You're in for a treat!" She took a practiced step backward, bringing her neatly out of their way and then turned to leave. She gave one quick little wave and wished them a good evening before striding away.

The room turned out to be quite nice.
Sela rushed past, gave the smaller bed an experimental bounce and pronounced it suitable. Marina stood at the threshold and took it in for a moment. She had always been less comfortable with change than the rest of her family and she needed these moments. The room smelled vaguely of the cleaning solution recently used to ready it and the floor was swept and mopped to perfection. The dust that plagued so much of the silo was entirely absent here, each surface gleaming and clean. Marina liked it, right down to the soft beige paint on the walls.

The other side of the partition
from Sela’s bed held a larger bed, meant for two. It was neatly made and covered in a cotton blanket that had faded and softened to a pale shade of green Marina found lovely. That part of the room could be completely shut off from the rest of the compartment by means of a curtain, now pushed to the side for maximum space. It wasn't the kind of privacy they enjoyed in their own compartment but far more than she had expected in a temporary room.

Aside from the two beds and the thin partition wall that stood between them, there were few furnishings. Metal shelves jutted from the walls above the beds, most of them empty but one holding a neatly folded blanket, this one a less faded yellow color. Lamps attached to movable arms protruded from bases screwed into the wall above each bed.

The space between the door and the smaller bed was taken up by a round table just big enough for three people to eat from if they were careful with their elbows, and three straight backed chairs. Those were tucked tightly to the table to leave the illusion of space but Marina guessed that anyone actually sitting at that table would be no more than an arm's reach from the foot of the bed or the wall or the door, depending on which chair they chose.

On the other side of the door, most of the space opposite the larger bed area and the metal doors of the shallow closet next to it
had been walled off for a very small bathroom. She supposed that having a bathroom is what made it a better room.

She opened the door to take a peek inside and found it tiny, but very nicely appointed.
The floor and walls were tiled top to bottom, and only a few of the tiles were cracked. Each cracked one stood out, the bright white bead of sealant breaking the symmetry of the regular squares.

The shower was small and had a door that folded rather than
slid like those she had in her own residence because of the limited space. The metal sink and toilet were crammed in such close proximity that one might almost wash their hands in the one while still taking care of business on the other. She lifted a small jar of dark soap from the sink and caught the sweet, astringent scent of rosemary.

"Well, they have really nice soap. Mind if I go first?" she asked as she poked her head back out.

Joseph was lining up the vegetables he had taken from Sela's pack on one of the shelves, carefully inspecting each for damage first. He didn't turn from his task but said, "Go ahead."

Sela was deeply involved in smoothing wrinkles from a long tunic and a pair of beige cotton pants. She stroked the fabric, already spread out as flat as possible on the bed, but it didn't seem to be doing much to fix the problem. It was a rare occasion that brought out anything other than coveralls and Sela appeared both nervous and excited as she examined the wrinkled cotton.

The tunic was colorfully dyed in staggered bands of color from bright yellow at the top down to orange and finally to a deep red at the hem. It had been a gift from her father when she began to shadow for him and in the time since, she had never worn it outside their compartment.

"Sela, you might get those wrinkles out a little easier if you hang it in the bathroom while I shower. Hot showers work wonders for more than just getting clean."

She stopped smoothing the fabric and looked up uncertainly. "Are you sure I should wear this? In public?"

"Absolutely," Marina answered with conviction. "Lots of people wear them on special occasions. You just don't see it that much because you
always see people on business or going to work. Even Grandy wore clothes other than coveralls. She wore them almost every day when I was young."

A skeptical look appeared on
Sela's face and she crossed her arms, a sure sign of disbelief. "Grandy? No way."

Marina nodded, "Yes, way. She absolutely did. It was only when we traveled the stairs that she wore coveralls. When she got older and us kids grew up and moved out, she went back to work
. That is why you saw her in coveralls all the time."

Grandy
was what Marina and the other orphans, and eventually their children, had called the woman who raised them. Sela had especially admired her and spent weeks in her company when she was little, learning how to draw and dance and play all the games that Grandy had taught her mother. If Grandy had worn paper wrappings and liked it, Sela would probably think it must be good to wear them too.

Sela turned away to consider the tunic again, then she snatched it up as if she might change her mind if she didn't hurry and thrust it at her mother. "Okay. I will, but if anyone laughs at me I'm coming straight back here and changing.
Deal?"

Marina took the cloth solemnly and agreed, "Deal."

By the time Marina left the bathroom wrapped in a soft towel and carrying a much less wrinkled garment, Joseph and Sela were playing cards. It was apparently a fierce competition with much slapping of cards on the table required for participation. Sela hopped up, loudly victorious, and examined the tunic even as her mother laid it out on the bed.

Marina would also be wearing something other than coveralls this evening, the first time she had done so in front of strangers
for many a year. She would never have admitted it, but she was quite nervous about it too. It was expected when dining in the Wardroom, though. She figured she would survive the ordeal.

It wasn't as if wearing clothing other than coveralls
weren’t allowed or anything. In many cases, such as this one, it was expected or even required. After all, they had about half an entire level dedicated to the manufacture and sale of fabrics and things made of fabric. Of that, only a portion was related to coveralls or patches for coveralls.

I
n the case of the Wardroom, very long tradition held that one did not eat there in coveralls unless one was a resident of the Wardroom residences
and
actually on duty. No one knew why but there it was.

By the time all three of the family
members were ready to leave, Marina felt a bit like she was walking out of the door in her underwear. She had to work to restrain herself from crossing her arms in front of her chest. That would have probably sent Sela running back for the door.

Of the three, only Joseph seemed at ease. He wore a pair of blue pants just a few shades darker than the paint used to mark pipes
for potable water. His tunic was longer than Marina's, ending just above the knee and dyed a yellow almost as pale as the spare blanket in their hotel room. It was decorated with a line of spots of many colors, all of them blurred at the edges like someone had shaken wet hands covered in many different dyes at the yellow cloth and then liked the effect. Perhaps that is what happened. Whatever the case, it was a bold pattern and Marina liked it a great deal. It made his brown eyes and the slight curl in his short, dark hair somehow more handsome. The easy expression on his face made her want to reach out and touch him possessively.