“Three years,” Dr. Smart answered. “Do you have any feelings about knowing that people have been coming to Hanford for a long time now?”
62 shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel curious, I guess.”
Dr. Smart pulled a notepad and pen from the front pocket of his coat. He clicked the pen, nodding. “Yes, go on. What are you curious about?”
“Well, right now I’m curious about why you’re writing on paper.” 62 reached out and touched the edge of the pad. The paper looked smooth, but had an odd rippled texture that he hadn’t expected.
Dr. Smart looked up from his note taking, eyebrows raised. “You know what paper is?”
“Yes. Kind of. When I was in Adaline, a friend of mine taught me about paper. And books.” 62 felt awkward as he continued to pet the paper. The impulse to feel something he’d only dreamed of was too strong for him to stop. “I’d like to know why you use paper instead of an electronic tablet.”
Dr. Smart scribbled a few more lines before responding. “It’s a long story. The abbreviated version is that in Hanford, we’ve reverted to more simple means of survival. Here, less technology equals more freedom, as you’ll learn once you’re released from quarantine.”
“Why are we in quarantine, anyway?” 17 chimed in.
The doctor gave an annoyed glance at 62’s neighbor. His voice dropped to a practiced patient tone, masking any irritation that he may have felt at the interruption. He turned toward the intruder. “You’re an insistent little one, aren’t you? Your group is in quarantine because you were just rescued from a secure autonomous facility. Things here are very different. There are elements beyond these walls that are hard on the body and mind. We have to make sure that the exposure you’ve gotten to this new environment hasn’t harmed you. We also need to make sure that exposing you to more of our world won’t cause you harm.”
“We’ll be hurt when we leave here?” Panic crept into 62’s voice.
Dr. Smart lifted his writing hand and waved the pen in time with his shaking head. “Oh, no. Not intentionally, anyway. The above ground functions differently from Adaline. Profoundly different. The dirt. The air. It affects some bodies negatively after being in such a filtered environment for a lifetime. We use quarantine as a means to establish how your hike through the soil has affected your ability to survive. And we evaluate you to predict how you’ll react to societal changes. Once the medical staff feel that you’ve survived the trip from Adaline without any lasting effects, and we assume that you will respond to our society with an open mind, you can be exposed to the world little by little. Eventually, you’ll be able to live your own life here with minimal supervision. Which leads me to my next question. At any point in your time in Adaline, were you told that you had an anomaly?”
62 stared blankly at Dr. Smart. His mouth dropped open slightly, but his ingrained fear of being different kept the words from coming out. 17 piped up again. “I heard he’s got some kind of brain problem.”
Dr. Smart glared at the nosey neighbor until he shrank down onto his mattress and looked away. He turned back to 62 with a gentle demeanor. “Rumors move fast and far, don’t they?”
62 nodded. He tucked himself tighter into a ball, shoving his hands under opposing armpits and tucking his heels as close to his bottom as possible. He laid his chin down on his knees and gave a distressed sigh.
“I’ve got to know about any problems that might arise before I can make a recommendation for your release. If you don’t want to talk about it now, we can always chat about anomalies the next time I come through.” Dr. Smart looked around the crowded room. “You’re welcome to stay cooped up here as long as you want.”
“If I tell you about my anomaly, I’ll get to leave sooner?” 62 shifted his gaze to the window where the wind was slowly pushing the shadow of a faraway cloud over the courtyard outside.
Dr. Smart glanced over his shoulder at the window for just a moment then turned back to 62. “You’ll leave as quickly as you can be deemed physically and emotionally fit. At least one of the people in your group will likely never be released because he’s gotten sick. Some of the people in here won’t be let loose for a long time. A few are nearly ready to be released now. But we can’t tell where you fit on that scale until you tell us what the medical staff in Adaline told you.”
“I do have something wrong with my brain,” 62 mumbled into his knees. “I have dreams. And I learned how to draw.” He gave a heavy sigh. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.
“I see.” Dr. Smart jotted another note down on his pad. He shook his head as he wrote. His eyebrows dipped and his friendly grin turned upside-down. He gave a quick grunt. “Dreams. Terrible.”
62 could feel himself losing the fight to keep his tears at bay. His voice cracked when he asked, “Will I have to stay here a long time?”
Dr. Smart turned his head and glared at 17 in anticipation of an interruption that didn’t come. When he was satisfied that the neighbor Boy wouldn’t interrupt, he turned toward 62 again. “You specifically,” the doctor clicked his pen again and tucked it and the notepad back into his jacket pocket, “should be ready to move to the dorms and begin school in just a few days.”
“Really?” 62 perked up. “You don’t think I’m too damaged?”
“Dreams aren’t common.” Dr. Smart smiled with a gentle shake of his head. “But, they’re also not considered an illness. Not anything to warrant treatment, anyway. And we don’t have the technology to correct a dream anomaly up here, even if we wanted to. The biggest danger is that dreams aren’t well-understood and they make people nervous. So, while I see nothing wrong with you having them, you probably should keep the fact that you dream to yourself to avoid getting into any trouble.”
“You said a minute ago that if I’m released, I have to go to school? I’ve already gone to school, once.” 62 leaned forward, the weight of his anomaly lifting. “Back in Adaline.”
Dr. Smart tilted his head and raised his shoulders. “Everyone who comes to Hanford has to go back to school again. Even the adults. Besides, I think you’ll find our school to be a bit more interesting than what you’re used to.”
“Interesting, how?” 62 asked as the doctor stood.
Dr. Smart looked down at his clipboard and scanned the page for his next patient. He sighed in audible relief and waved goodbye to 17. “You’ll just have to wait and see. I’m needed across the room. Good luck to both of you.”
After Dr. Smart had inched his way to his next bedside appointment, 62 turned to 17. “Everyone keeps saying that we just have to wait and see. I’m already sick of hearing that.”
“Me, too. What do you think school will be like?”
62 shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we just have to wait and see.”
CHAPTER 8
THE DOOR TO THE QUARANTINE room swung open and slammed shut. The restless group had been going through the motions of making their own beds and changing into clean scrubs when a female doctor entered the room. She wore a lab coat and a bundle of green fabric hung loosely around her neck. A hush filled the air and nearly everyone froze in their places.
“Man 26411, Boy 1101314, and Boy 1124562?” Her voice was an octave higher than it should have been. She gripped a sheaf of papers against her chest as if the flimsy pulp would help to strengthen her thin body. She teetered on small feet as she looked around the room. She was petite, delicate, and had a coldness in her eyes.
62 and the other two who’d been called raised their hands. “Here,” they each responded in turn.
“Please finish cleaning up. When you’re done, come with me.” The Woman shifted her gaze to her papers in a show of feigned privacy.
Everyone went back to what they were doing. 62 folded the blankets over the edges of his mattress and tucked them underneath the way the bots used to. He silently wished he had a bot to do the task for him and wondered if he’d ever get used to the manual task. He adjusted the ill-fitting dressing gown over his shoulders and moved towa
rd the door. When the other two who’d been called joined him, the doctor knocked on the door and someone outside opened it for them.
Just beyond the threshold was the hallway that they’d entered through when they first arrived. They followed the Woman’s clipped steps down the hall to the left, past a few closed doors. Without pausing to read the sign, she grasped the handle of a door on the right and ushered the refugees inside. The three males crammed themselves into the small room. It looked like it was supposed to be a laboratory, but it wasn’t nearly as bright or sterile as the labs that 62 had seen back home. This place had stains on the linoleum, dents in the stainless-steel counters, and chipped paint on the cabinets. Many of the utensils laid out around the room were familiar though. A strange mix of refined tools like his old doctor friend, 42, used in his lab, and other utensils which had been used for the primitive medical care that 62 and his brothers had succumbed to since their arrival.
“I’m Dr. Rain,” the Woman said. A Man who looked about the same age as 26411, but who was visibly several inches taller, opened a cabinet and pulled out stacks of fabric. Dr. Rain continued. “I’ll be your liaison while you are being reeducated. Should you need anything, whether it’s educational supplies, medical attention, or simply a need to talk, I’ll be here to coordinate getting your requests taken care of.”
The tall Man sorted the fabric by size and made three neat piles on one of the counters. His voice was gruff when he finally spoke. “Here are your clothes for today. I’ve put in orders for a few more sets to be sent to your living quarters. Dr. Rain will show you where those are later.”
“Are we leaving quarantine?” Man 11’s voice cracked when he asked the question. He looked back and forth between the oversized Man and tiny Woman. Dr. Rain nodded.
“Once you get changed, we’ll go on a tour of the immediate grounds. After lunch, we’ll head over to your lodgings and get you settled in. We’ll begin orientation and get you familiar with more of the town tomorrow at 9 A.M.”
“Which one is A.M. again?” Boy 14 asked.
“A.M. is morning. That’s when the sun is rising,” Dr. Rain replied. “P.M. is evening, when the sun is setting.”
“We’re still getting used to the concept of day and night,” Man 11 explained as he unfolded his pile of clothes, picking up the top article and holding it out in front of him to look it over. He looked sideways at Dr. Rain. “We didn’t have a sun in Adaline.”
Dr. Rain’s voice wavered even higher than before, ringing with irritation. “You did.” Her shoulders squared, the tension visible in them. “The same one that’s outside right now, actually. But there wasn’t any way for you to see it.”
“Because we were inside of Adaline,” 62 offered. “Underground.”
“Correct.” The doctor gave a brief smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be just outside while you get changed. Come out when you’re dressed and we’ll take a look around.” Dr. Rain pulled a pale purple mask out from under the scarf around her neck and arranged it over her face. She opened a second door, opposite the one they’d entered through. When she stepped outside, her assistant pulled on his own mask and followed behind her. The frigid air that rushed in with the swinging door smelled of dry dirt.
“This place is ridiculous,” Man 11 said once the door had clicked shut. He threw his clothes down on the floor, frustration dripping in his voice as he muttered to himself. “Suns. Women. Plants.”
A few minutes later, the trio were dressed. They found a pile of masks on the counter. They were similar to the ones they’d worn after leaving Adaline, but came in a variety of colors and sizes. The three refugees dug through the lot until they found masks that fit. The one 62 chose was green, nearly the color of the blades of grass Blue had brought him to prove the outside existed. With a bit of excitement, they slid the new protective coverings over their faces. The material was softer than they were used to, and 62 was glad to find his new mask was far more comfortable than the one he’d had before. 62 reached the door first and pulled it open. Looking through the doorway at the world outside, 62 decided Man 11 was right. It was ridiculous here. He walked over to the edge of the building where Dr. Rain waited. The area was in shadow and the wind that blew made a shiver run down his spine. “It’s so cold,” 62 muttered, his voice barely audible through the mask. “The air even smells cold. How is it possible for air to smell like a temperature?”
Dr. Rain’s eyes were perfectly at ease looking out of her lenses over the edge of the loose, green scarf that she’d pulled up to cover the lower half of her facemask. “You get used to it. It’s a big change from the temperature-controlled hole you’ve been in, but your body will recognize it as normal in time.”
“There’s nothing normal about this place,” Man 11 blustered through his drab brown mask as he stomped toward them. His eyes darted back and forth, looking around the courtyard. Short, green-brown plants were growing heavily underfoot. The lawn reached out with dry, bushy fingers, except for a few worn paths where bare earth had been packed under countless feet. Boy 14 scuttled behind him, careful to only place his feet where his older brother had already stepped. Man 11’s voice called out in desperation, “Where are the Machines?”
Dr. Rain looked over the same courtyard, but with a different look in her eye. “This is the natural world. Back in the old world, before Adaline and our sister site were built, this is how we lived. Our people were all above grounders back then. Living below the topsoil was revolutionary when our facilities were constructed.”
The three displaced Adaline residents looked at one another, confused. Boy 14’s voice chirped from the filter of his scarlet mask, “Our facilities?”
Dr. Rain’s eyes crinkled with a hidden smile. “Adaline and Curie. Don’t worry. You’ll learn about them, soon enough.”
“We know about the history of Adaline.” 62 could feel himself shrink as the doctor shook her head, but he continued anyway. “We learned about it in school. How it started with one Boy and grew to be what it is today.”
“That’s not all of Adaline’s story,” Dr. Rain said. She turned to face the blast of the morning wind and her scarf fluttered behind her like a flag. “Not by a long shot.”
CHAPTER 9
THE FIRST FEW DAYS out of quarantine went by in a blur. Dr. Rain had given 62 and the other few refugees tours of different parts of Hanford. They’d gone through the housing units for both genders, the school, a place called a cafeteria where the meal tabs were kept, and through the rest of the hospital outside of quarantine. School wouldn’t start for a few days. Dr Rain had told 62 that they were waiting for at least ten of the new arrivals to be released so that they’d have a full class. Apparently, there was a shortage of people willing to teach the newcomers about living life above ground. The staff wanted to build as big a class as possible before beginning, that way no one would be left behind.
62 didn’t mind the delay. He’d taken the time to follow Blue around Hanford a bit. Blue had introduced him to a couple of people in passing, although none of them had seemed very friendly. Blue ignored their rudeness, and 62 did his best to copy him in shrugging it off.
00 had also taken him around some, but was careful to stay within the confines of their housing area. “Nobody here likes us much,” 00 admitted. “It’s best to stay close to home if you can.”
Today, 62 had awoken with the sun to a silence like nothing he’d heard since leaving Adaline. There was a stillness in his room and it took him a minute to orient himself and figure out what was different. He got up from his bed and pulled the curtain back from the window. The sunlight made the land outside glow. The colors of the plants were brighter, the red and brown of the rocks sharper, and the sky was filled with clouds painted in reds and purples and other shades unseen by anyone down in Adaline. 62 stared for a long time before he realized that while the sun was crawling slowly higher into the sky, the clouds were staying remarkably still. The plants stood tall, not bending into one another li
ke normal.
62 shed his pajamas and threw on his clothes as fast as he could. He shoved his mask over his face and ran out into the hall, through the exit door, and around the corner to the far entrance of the male housing block. He could get to Blue’s room through the building, but Blue had shown him how much faster it was to go around outside. He cut left, across a path darkened by the shade of the building, around a corner, and back into the dorm. He went through the side door so quickly that the spring on the door didn’t have time to catch, and it slammed shut with a bang behind him.
“Sorry,” 62 called to the groans from the closest rooms as he passed by. Another few steps and he was at Blue’s door. He knocked quietly now that he thought to be courteous of the people sleeping in the rooms on either side of Blue’s hall. The sound of his hand on the door was so quiet though, that 62 couldn’t hear the tap of knuckles on wood over the drum of his heart pounding from the run around the building. He waited a minute, then just as he was about to knock again the door swung open and a sleepy-eyed Blue stood yawning before him.
“What do you want?” Blue said grumpily. “It’s barely sunup.”
“The wind,” 62 exclaimed, so excited that he practically danced in the hall. “It isn’t blowing.”
Blue blinked a few times. A hand unconsciously rubbed his face, seeming to wipe the sleep from him. The words began to sink in. “It’s not windy?”
62 nodded so hard that his mask started to slip. He pushed the green fabric back up on his face, then turned the palm of his hand toward Blue. “Look, my mask isn’t dirty.”
Blue’s eyes grew wide. “Give me a minute to get dressed. I’ll meet you outside.”
“I’ll go get 00,” 62 offered.
“Don’t bother,” Blue said with a snort. “He won’t come.”
62 hesitated, but then went outside to wait. When Blue arrived, he wasn’t wearing his mask. Instead, the bright blue covering hung partway out of a pocket on the back side of his pants. “Take that thing off,” he ordered. He didn’t wait for 62 to comply. He yanked 62’s mask up and over his head and shoved it at him. “Put it in your pocket. If the wind picks up, you can put it on. Do you have school or anything today?”
The Adaline Series Bundle 1 Page 39