“I've been here before,” 62 said. “This is the platform outside of T.A.S.K.”
“Are you sure?” 99 mused. “I think you'll find it's a bit different.”
The walls fell backward, the ceiling lifted, and beyond the edge of the concrete, grass shot up from the ground. The transport's brakes hissed and squealed as it came barreling out of the mouth of the tunnel to the Boys' left, which now protruded from a mound of dirt instead of a brick and mortar wall. To their right, the tracks rose up in the air. They assembled in the sky, then drifted down to the ground, settling just above the waving grass in the distance. When the screaming of the tram’s brakes stopped, the passenger car doors opened.
62 shifted his gaze from left to right, taking in the transformation. They were in a field, so much like the fields of the dreams he shared with 71. It was breathtakingly beautiful; almost beautiful enough to make the shooting pain in his limbs fade.
“Have you ever seen anything like it?” 99's eyebrows arched quizzically.
Deciding that it would be in his best interest to play dumb, 62 shook his head. “What is all this stuff?”
“It's a dream.” 99 grinned. He took a few steps forward, entering the waiting rail car. He turned, looking back at the platform where 62 still stood. “You coming?”
CHAPTER 38
THE TRANSPORT UNIT clattered on tracks strewn through open fields. It slowed as the scenery changed from grassy knolls to industrial steel. A Man sat atop a pile of broken Nurses. A moment later the air turned thick and gray, making it difficult to see a Boy running through a stream of hydraulic fluid that had ruptured from a cracked pump just outside. Down the tracks a bit farther another Boy threw buckets of dust into the air. Coating himself so thick in the gray particles that he looked like he'd been born of cement instead of flesh and bone.
62 took in each scene. He recognized the elated look of freedom on the faces of the figures as they passed by. He'd experienced the same thrill of discovering there were no rules when he first learned to dream. He also understood the limitations of each of the figures as they skittered by the trembling glass. None of them had ever been shown how to imagine beyond the objects right in front of them.
“How did you learn how to make the start of the dream so different from Adaline?” 62 turned to his brother.
99 shrugged. “Another dreamer showed me the field once. I liked it, so I kept it as a part of my dream. It’s a place I can go back to when I enter and exit others’ dreams. Helps me to not get lost.”
“Another dreamer? Was it one of the ones the beds in the Dream Ward were made for?”62 frowned. “Where did they all go?”
A sadness drew itself across 99's face. “Yes. It was one of them. Most of them were removed from service. Major says that spending too much time in dreams makes a Man forget what's real and what's not. Something about how pretending gets into our heads and makes us stop following the rules.”
62 nodded. He’d had difficulty falling into line himself because of how suffocating it felt to be awake. Looking out the window, he saw a Man in the distance fighting a PTS unit. From the Machine's bent arms and leaking hoses, it appeared the Man was winning. 62 pointed at the incident as it faded into the distance. “Are you imagining all of these things?”
“No. These are the dreams that are happening in Adaline, right now.” 99 sat up straight and glanced out the window briefly, then slumped back down in his chair. “We're supposed to monitor and report them.”
62 left the window, moving across the car to sit down next to his brother. Slumped as he was, 99 couldn't have seen the group of Boys gathered around a cascading shower of cleaning fluid; splashing in the resulting puddles and spraying one another with smiles on their faces. “Do you report all of them?”
99 shook his head. “The others did. They reported everyone, whether they were dreaming about breaking the rules, or not. Major caught most of the ones that were reported, and their dreams disappeared.”
“What happened to them? The ones you worked with before.”
“Four of my partners on the Dream Ward found out that the other three had been letting smart Men go. Doctors and programmers, mostly. Men who were using their dreams to create new systems for Adaline. The last time we all dreamed together, there was a fight. They wrecked one another's consciousness. Horrible things said. Worse things done.”
Silence crept between the Boys as the rail car clattered on. The transport unit began to slow and the air filled with the hiss and squeal of brakes being applied to metal wheels. The door at the end of the rail car opened with a slight whoosh of escaping air. 62 sat quiet beside 99 until the he rose from his seat. Staring straight ahead, 99 whispered, “There were eight of us then, but only five of us woke up. I was left alone since I was still in training, but the four who survived were removed from service for the attack.”
“Where did they go when they were removed from the Dream Ward?”
99 turned his face toward 62. Tears welled in his eyes. “They were sent to the lab to have their anomalies taken apart and studied. If they wouldn't help us in the dreams, then they had to be useful some other way.”
62 remembered the threat that Major had issued on his arrival to Defense. He breathed a deep breath, letting it out again slowly. “Well, I guess I'm stuck here with you, aren't I? I was almost someone's experiment once and I sure don't want to do that again.”
99 chuckled, his eyes dark. “Doesn't sound fun at all. Let's go.”
The Boys stepped through the tram door and into a classroom. This one was larger than the one that 62 had attended in C.A.T. Desks formed a semicircle in long sweeping rows. 62 half expected 71 to be standing at center stage, perfecting one of his new jokes. Instead, a young Boy played with blocks on an instructor's desk in the middle of the room.
“Hello.” 99 called into the empty room.
The child's smile beamed. “Want to play?”
99 nodded and began weaving his way past the empty chairs. 62 followed, unsure what such a small Boy was doing imagining himself out of the Nursery.
“What game are you playing?” 99 pushed a chair to the desk and plopped down. He pulled two scattered blocks back into the pile.
“Build and crash.” There was a high-pitched squeal. “You brought someone to play with!”
99 nodded. “Yes. This is 62. He's our brother.”
“I'm Pi.” The child pointed at himself seriously, then squealed and fell into a fit of laughter.
99 rolled his eyes. “He's 3141592. Somebody thought it was a good idea to start teaching him math early and he figured out that if he put a point behind the 3, he could call himself Pi.”
“Pi, Pi, my little eye. I like math and I like Pi.”
62 couldn't help but laugh. “That's an easy way to remember your number.”
Pi's laughter ended and he began stacking the blocks as high as he could reach. When he got to where he needed to step on his tiptoes to keep placing blocks, 99 picked him up and helped him reach a little higher. They were down to the last block and the tower wobbled precariously over them. Pi and 99 strained to place the last piece.
“Let me help.” 62 touched the tower, imagining it being firm and steady. The shaking ceased. Then he took the block from Pi and covered it with his other hand. “One, two, three.” Opening his hands, he revealed that the single block was now a group of three identical cubes. He tossed the blocks in the air, and guided them atop the tower with his mind. The stand of blocks didn't even shudder as the last pieces were placed.
“How did you do that?” 99 asked. In his distraction he dropped Pi to the floor a little too hard. The smaller child didn't seem to notice.
“That was amazing! Can you show me?” Pi leaped toward 62, clipping the edge of the desk with his shoulder. Both Pi and the tower came crashing down, the Boy squealing with joy as blocks rained down around him.
“Sure, I can show you.” 62 grinned. Pi scooped up some blocks and thrust them back onto the table. 62 star
ed at the remaining blocks on the floor and willed them to rise up, sorting themselves by color in a neat line along the edge of the desk.
“Maybe some other time.” 99 placed a tight grasp on 62's forearm. “Pi, I came to see you tonight because I need to know if the bad Boy has come to see you again.”
Pi frowned. “But I want to know how to make the blocks pick themselves up.”
“Not now.” 99 insisted. “I need to know, Pi. Did he come to see you again?”
“Maybe.” Pi turned away, ducking behind the desk in a slumping pout.
“Did he bring you anything?”
“No.” Pi's voice trembled.
A quiet snapping sound made the two older Boys turn. It was a small and intermittent sound. It took the Boys a minute to search out where it came from. One of the chairs in the far end of the room appeared to be growing. Its color shifted from silver to deep green. Long, leafy tendrils emerged, unrolling themselves along the surface and reaching toward the ceiling in a search for light. The quiet sound intensified as the grass grew thicker. Longer.
Pi gasped, peering over the corner of the desk. “I didn't mean to do that!”
99 nodded. “Thank you, Pi. That's all I needed to know.”
CHAPTER 39
62 AND 99 SAT ON THE edge of their beds, eyes locked. Both wore a frown of discontent.
“Well?” Major hovered expectantly. “Did you find anything about the thieves?”
“They're recruiting.” 99's voice was flat. “They've shown our contact in the Nursery foreign matter.”
A heavy sigh escaped Major as he slid his weight down to the edge of one of the beds. He slumped down beside 62. “We were supposed to have stopped it by now. How far do you think they've spread?”
99 broke away from 62's gaze. Sliding his eyes up to Major's face, his mouth danced between a defeated frown and an angry grimace. “I don't know. I'm not sure how they found dreamers that young. We almost didn't find Pi, and you told me where to find him because of his Nanny. Maybe they’re accessing the Boys by physically entering the Nursery.”
“A Nanny told you about him?” 62's voice cracked.
Major nodded. “The Machines compile reports around the clock. If there's strange data collected, the units are programmed to alert the system. Works like a charm, unless someone messes with the data stream.”
62's replacement chip itched under his skin. He fought to keep his face straight and his hands in his lap. “How do you know if someone's messing things up?”
Major squinted. He wasn't used to anyone asking so many questions. “We just do.”
“Well Pi's Nurse is reporting normally,” 99 injected, breaking the tension. “Maybe the thieves have a way to read the data logs.”
Major waved a hand in the air, dismissing the comment. “Impossible. Adaline’s security can't be breached.”
“But you said that these bad guys might be in the Nursery. Isn't that a breach?” 62 couldn't help but ask.
"You are not cleared to discuss that." Major turned to 99 with hopeful eyes. "Any new dreamers to report?"
99 shrugged and shook his head. "Pi's the only one we found." Major sighed. "He isn't the ideal subject for 62 to observe. I hope you come across a new anomaly so you can show him what he'll be expected to do."
62 considered all of the dreamers they'd passed in their dream. "99 explained the reporting requirements to me. I think I understand the basics."
Major's eyes squinted again. “You two are dismissed. 99, please have a full report of your progress by the end of the cycle. Make sure you include whether you think 1124562 will be a help or a hurdle to the program.”
62 waited for 99 to hop off his bed before he followed. Major had already started pounding the buttons on the computer before the Boys had left the room. 62 glanced over his shoulder at the Man who cursed under his breath and kicked a Nurse in frustration. The door opened as 99 approached, and 62 had to hurry to catch up before the doors locked him inside the ward again.
“Where to now?” 62 tried to make his voice sound excited and hopeful despite the thick dread filling his stomach. He followed 99 down a hallway, around a corner and into an oversized room where a Man sat behind a large desk.
“I'm going back to my pod to write my report.” 99 waved at the Man as they entered. He lifted his chin and spoke over the edge of the desk in a stronger, more certain voice. “Major says he's done with 1124562 for now. His cell assignment should be on file.”
The Man nodded and tapped some buttons behind the desk. Before 62 had time to question what was happening, two Machines larger than any he'd seen before came lumbering into the room. They were broad and intimidating. “Correctors, take him to cell seven,” the Man instructed. The two correction units nodded in unison, their red eyes passed over 99 and settled on 62.
“We'll let you know when we need you again,” 99 called as 62 was taken away. “It takes Major a while to get through paperwork though, so it might be few cycles.”
62 let the bulky metallic arms carry him through the room toward a set of heavily reinforced doors. There was no point in struggling. His choices were clear. 62 could either go along with whatever Defense wanted to do with him, or fall to whatever fate the other dreamers had faced. 62 may not know what was in store for him here, but he knew that he wanted to survive.
CHAPTER 40
62 LAY ON THE FLOOR of the stark white cell. The small room wasn't any more uncomfortable than his cube had been when he was back at C.A.T., but it hadn't taken long for him to realize how accustomed he'd become to sleeping on a soft mattress. The lights dimmed, signaling the end of the cycle. 62 rolled on his side, pulled his blanket over his head and closed his eyes.
He rubbed at his neck. His fingers passed over the spot where his chip had been removed and replaced. Not once, but twice, 42 had cut him open and given him the gift of normalcy. He wondered how long it would take for Major to suspect that his readouts weren't correct. He already knew that someone was tampering with the system. It felt like only a matter of time until they found out he was an imposter. An anomaly within an anomaly.
Forcing himself to breathe deeply, 62 concentrated on the darkness of sleep. He could feel his limbs loosen; feel the sensation of falling down through the floor and into nothing. The beeps and shuffle of the correction bots faded away until 62 felt free and alone in the darkness. This void was soothing and vast, so unlike the black oppression of the mechanically forced sleep back in the Dream Ward. He tightened his already closed eyes and focused on Pi. It hadn't been that long since they'd left him playing with blocks. Maybe he’d still be there.
The familiar tear in the edge of his consciousness separated. He pressed his face against it, looking first with his eyes at the white light beyond and then pressing his ear to the gap and listening for Pi's voice.
“One, two, three.” A small voice creaked from some distant place. An exasperated gasp. “I want the blocks to fly. Why isn't it working?”
62 pressed his fingers into the gap and pulled the edges of darkness apart. Once the opening was wide enough, he poked his head inside. There, sitting on the ground in an otherwise empty room was Pi. The child held a block in his palm. He closed his fingers around it and covered it with his other hand. “One, two, three!” Opening his hands, the same block rested in his palm, lifeless. Frustrated, he tossed it to the ground and stomped his feet.
“Need some help?” 62 pushed the rest of the way through the gap, folding it closed behind him.
Pi's eyes grew wide. “How'd you do that?”
“It's just a trick of the mind.” 62 patted his temple with his forefinger. “A friend showed me how to dream up all kinds of things. Even how to share dreams with people I know.”
“But there wasn't a transport.” Pi looked left and right, flummoxed by the solid walls surrounding them. “You can't just pop up. Oh, you must be pretend.”
“Do you have pretend people in your dreams very often?”
Pi considered
the question, then nodded ever so slightly. “Sometimes.”
“Well then, I guess that's what I am. Just pretend.” 62 bent over and reached for the block on the floor. Before picking it up, he looked over at Pi. “May I?”
Pi beamed. “Oh, yes! I remember this part. You're going to turn it into three blocks, and then make them fly.”
“Maybe.” 62 turned the block over in his hand. It doubled in size. Pi's eyes went wide. “I was wondering if you could tell me about the green stuff that grew out of a chair earlier tonight.”
Face scrunched, Pi turned his nose up in the air and crossed his arms. “I'm not supposed to talk about it. Even to pretend people like you.”
62 nodded. “I was just wondering who gave it to you, that's all.” He set the block down on the ground at his feet and pinched the top of the square. Its corners rounded. He pulled and pinched, stretched and pushed the block until it was a blob nearly his own height. Then he inhaled and blew his breath over the pale surface. It melded into the shape of a Boy. The Boy opened his eyes, deep blue irises fluttering under long lashes.
“That's him!” Pi clapped his hands and danced around the make-believe Blue. “I like this dream. Yes, I do. You're good at pretending.”
“Us pretend people don't have much else to do.” 62 tapped Blue's nose and he dissolved back into the familiar square block. 62 tossed the block back to Pi.
“Can you teach me how to make people from blocks?” The younger Boy pushed and pinched the cube in his hand, but it stayed firmly in place.
“I probably can, the next time the real me sees you. If I show you now, someone might get suspicious.”
Pi nodded. He blew a deep breath over the block and frowned when nothing happened.
“Hey, can you give your friend a message for me?” 62 knelt down until he was eye to eye with Pi. He wrapped his hand over the block. When he removed it the cube was gone, replaced by three spears of grass.
The Adaline Series Bundle 1 Page 33