Everyone was doing something important. And 62 was stuck going back to class to eat some new kind of weird food product.
He felt useless, sitting at a desk when his friends were off putting all the pieces together to help him find out what happened to his brothers in Adaline. They’d each insisted he keep up with Parker’s lessons, though. He had to know how to survive in Hanford. It was his new home, for better or worse. Most days it felt like it was for worse. The females he met eyed him with more disdain than Mattie, and the males who’d been here longer than a few seasons treated him like he was stupid. He hoped Hanford would someday be a place he belonged, but for right now it just felt like a place to be stuck.
He pulled on his clothes, tucked the book they’d been studying in class about plants’ life cycles under his arm, and made his way out of the building. As he walked, he thought about the dreams he’d had the night before. He’d seen Mattie again, busy in her library. He believed that he was seeing her dream, unfiltered and unshielded. He knew he should read the books that she’d gotten for him about oneironauts. He suspected that she hadn’t learned how to shield her consciousness the same way he had. But at the same time, no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t able to break through to her. He could see her, even push himself until he stood next to her. But she couldn’t hear him when he spoke to her or feel him when he put his hand on her arm. Something was separating them, and he wondered what it was.
He made it to the school building before his silent questions were answered. He waved halfheartedly to a couple of his classmates and they entered the building, settling into their cold desk chairs with a sense of unease and bewilderment. 62 wasn’t the only one who wasn’t looking forward to learning about more rules and the unpredictability of nature. And none of the students were excited about the food.
Raw potatoes, which looked like small, lumpy rocks, were lined up along Parker’s desk. On each student’s desk was a mushy pile of cooked potato waiting to be eaten. 62 looked up at the teacher, who was already scooping some of the cooked mash into his grinning mouth. 62 raised his hand and Parker set his spoon down. “Yes?”
“Do we really have to eat this?”
“Potatoes? Yes. Oh, don’t worry. They’re a plant, not little animals. No smiling faces to worry about like those happy chickens.”
“It’s not that.” 62 frowned. “It’s just that they look so awful.”
Parker laughed. “I promise, you’ll be surprised. Everybody loves potatoes.”
“Everyone?” 62 looked around the room. His classmates looked as dubious as he felt.
“Sure,” Parker offered. He picked up a raw potato from the edge of the desk and held it up or everyone to see. “Everybody likes them one way or another. They can be baked, mashed, shredded, and fried. They can be boiled in stews and even cooked over a fire. Potatoes are one of the best foods we have available.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Man 11 grumbled. He held up his plate of potato mash. “This is the best food you’ve got around here?”
“Yes.” Parker nodded with confidence.
“Do we have to eat a lot of them?” 62 asked quietly.
“Absolutely. At least one meal a day. Actually, you’ve been eating them your whole life. Processed potatoes make up most of what's in your meal tablets.”
62 scooped up the lumpy white slop with his spoon and dipped his tongue into it. It tasted bland. Like a sweet, balled up sock. His face scrunched up tight and he put the spoon down. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay, okay,” Parker conceded. “Maybe plain mashed potatoes aren’t the very best version of the potato. But this is the form that’s easiest on your stomachs while you’re getting used to food. I promise that once you get more used to butter and cream, gravy, and bacon, the potato is going to revolutionize your love of food.”
“What does any of that have to do with potatoes?” 14 asked.
“Oh, you guys. You can mix anything in with a potato and it becomes the best thing ever.” Parker went back to his own pile of potato mush. He mimed sprinkling an invisible ingredient over the pile. “You add a little of this, and a little of that, and it turns into something delicious!” He scooped some up and took a bite. He looked around at the room of doubting faces. The glum students pushed their food around their plates. “Come on, you guys. They’re just potatoes.”
“Before I eat it, I want to know where it comes from,” 11 protested. “Is there a potato tree?”
Parker laughed and shook his head. “Oh, no. Potatoes grow underground. If you look in your books, there’s a diagram of the potato. Page 293.”
62 sighed with relief for a reason to put off eating the starchy glob in front of him. He opened his book to the prescribed page and there it was in all its glory. A green, stalky plant with broad leaves and brown, lumpy potatoes underground. He frowned and raised his hand. When Parker called on him he asked, “We eat these? I thought the ground was poisonous, from what several doctors have told me.” A few students snickered.
Parker shifted in his seat. Everyone’s eyes moved from their pages to the teacher. “Well, not all of the ground is radioactive. The farmers do a sweep with the radiation detectors between each planting, and if a greenhouse shows levels that are too high, they don’t plant there until they dig out the bad soil and replace it with a thick layer of fresh compost.”
“How long does it take for the radiation to go away once they find it?” someone asked.
Parker’s face drooped. He looked up at the ceiling, studying the dull grey tiles above his head. After several moments he mumbled, “Roughly twenty thousand years.”
“What?” a student in the front row asked. Parker repeated himself.
Eyes bulged. Voices shouted out in confusion. Parker slunk behind his desk and resumed staring at the ceiling. The volume in the room increased as anxiety welled. Someone shouted above the din, “How are we supposed to survive up here? Won’t we run out of land?” The room quieted somewhat while several people stopped to hear the answer.
Parker looked tired. His frown creased with a deep sense of resignation. “We already have. The truth is that the radiation is everywhere. That’s why we only plant in the greenhouses. When a greenhouse is contaminated, we don’t have the resources to stop using it, and whenever a new one is erected, there’s a chance that the soil underneath is bad. So, we scrape the topsoil and take it out to one of the hot sites out of town, replace it with mulch and plant the beds. It’s the best we can do, aside from keeping ourselves clean and preventing as much of it from entering our bodies as possible.”
“But we’re growing food in it!” 11 shouted. He pushed his plate of mashed potatoes toward the edge of his desk in disgust. “Whoever decided to come and rescue us should have saved themselves the trouble. Eating poisoned food seems like it’s just a way to delay our death sentence. But it’s a slow murder from plants and dirt instead of getting it over with all at once.”
Parker cast his eyes on the fuming student. “Look. It’s not perfect. Everyone here is doing their best to survive. And against all odds, we are surviving. Look at this potato.” He held one of the clods of food aloft. “The texts that we’ve read on radiation state very clearly that if plants are immersed in it, they won’t survive. And any that do should have strange defects. Odd transformations of color and size. But look at this potato, and look at the picture in your book. Those images were drawn before Hanford was built. Before a radioactive element was ever conceived. And the potato remains the same. Yes, there are some variances, but only a fraction of the crop is altered. It’s the same with us. There are people in Hanford who have lived here for decades. Several of the Women who found this place after Curie’s collapse are still here today. They’re old, hobbling humans, but they’re alive.
“It’s true that living in a radioactive wasteland isn’t ideal. But by being careful, washing our food before we eat it, keeping the dust out of our lungs, and shoveling away layers of contaminated soil, we can
live a good long life.”
“A tainted life,” Man 11 grumbled.
“Perhaps.” Parker shrugged.
62 frowned. “Parker, you said that several of the survivors lived to be old. What happened to the rest of them?”
Parker tilted his head. His eyes darted from 62 back to Man 11 as if he were nervous about another outburst. “They experienced illness, over time. There’s no way of knowing if their deaths were from the drastic change in the environment, or if they died from anomalies that would have surfaced and been cut out by the Curie facility.”
“Did Curie remove people with anomalies the same way Adaline does?” 62 asked.
Parker nodded. “The two sites practiced nearly identical procedures.”
“So, if they’d had anomalies, they would have been sent to die?” Boy 14 asked.
“Most certainly. Just like in Adaline, they would’ve been identified and removed to keep the production of humans free of any errors.” Parker looked across the room. Everyone had gone silent. “It’s a lot to think about,” he finished.
Heads nodded all around. 62’s head bobbed right along with them. It was possible that Hanford would kill him, but maybe it wouldn’t happen for a long time. Was the extra time worth the risk of a later, more painful death? He didn’t know. He supposed the only way to find out would be to live.
CHAPTER 33
62 PULLED THE DOOR OPEN to stop the rapping knuckles on the other side. It swung wide, revealing 00’s pale, blotchy face. Sweat trickled down his temples and his forehead glowed with a sickly sheen. His mouth gaped open as he caught his breath. Finally, he wheezed, “Blue’s been arrested.”
“What?” 62 exclaimed. Blue had his hand in so many questionable activities that it took 62 a moment to run through the list of things he might have been caught for. There were too many things that could have happened. Instead of asking which transgression he was picked up for, 62 asked, “When?”
“Early this morning,” 00 said. His breath whooshed out in a nervous rush. 62 grabbed a jacket and slid his feet into untied shoes. He slammed the door behind him and followed 00. He continued explaining. “They nabbed him from his room and took him to the elders. He’s supposed to be on trial before dinner time.”
It was already late in the afternoon. 62 put on his coat as he walked. He looked up and down the hallway and when he confirmed that they were the only people around he spoke up again. “What did they nab him for? The salt?”
00’s head wagged from side to side. He pushed the exit door open, put on his mask, and stepped out into the courtyard. 62 did the same. “They caught him with a cart full of junk from the disposal yard. They’re keeping him locked up until he talks to the elders.”
Head cocked and eyebrows raised, 62 asked, “How’d you find out?”
“Mattie was going to help him haul the stuff back to the library. She saw them nab him and came to get me.”
“Where’s she now?”
They crossed through the courtyard and turned toward the library. “She’s trying to see if she can get in to talk to him. She said she’d meet us outside the theater when it’s time for the trial.”
The pair turned out of the alleyway and onto the main road that led away from their dorm. People milled around, some looking like they had places to be and others simply standing out in the warm sun as they waited for the rest of the day to fade away. 62 and 00 nodded hello to a few people they knew as they passed by, looking as inconspicuous as possible. Their eyes were set in identical determination as they trotted toward the end of the road where the buildings spread out and the groups of people thinned over the dirt roadway.
They cut through a few more alleys and soon the library came into view. 62 spoke up as they climbed the stairs to the front door. “If Blue’s locked up and Mattie is trying to get in to talk to him, what are we doing here?”
“Getting that book on building computers.”
62’s face fell. “What for?”
00 didn’t stop. He yanked the door open and wandered into the building, leaving 62 standing stunned on the top step of the entrance. He emerged a few seconds later, the bulging textbook under his arm. “We’re going to convince the elders to give us those bot parts.”
“We’re what?” 62 could feel a line of worry crease its way between his eyebrows and up his forehead. 00 jogged down the steps, jumping off the last one and skidding to a stop in a cloud of dust at the bottom.
“That’s why Mattie is trying to talk to Blue right now. He’s in a heap of trouble, and is going to talk to the elders. Mattie thinks he should tell them everything. It’s probably the only way we’re ever going to get to talk to them. So, we’re going to take this book,” 00 lifted the book up and a few loose papers shifted. He shoved them back in as he continued, “and we’re going to tell them that we’re building a brain for the Nurse that we brought back.”
“But that’s suicide!” 62 chased after 00 with sudden panic, rushing to catch up to his friend. “We’ve broken every rule there is with this thing, and we’re just going to turn ourselves in?”
“Yup.” 00 nodded, turning to look back at 62. “It’s brilliant, really. If Blue and Mattie can convince them, we’ll get this thing hooked up in no time.”
“If? IF?” 62 groaned. “And what if they just see four kids who are turning into a bunch of criminals?”
00 shifted the heavy book in his arms. “Well, then Mattie will be sent to the Oosa, which she is going to volunteer for when she’s old enough anyway. And we...” the pause was long as 00 contemplated their fate. “Well, I don’t know what will happen to us. Nobody’s told me what happens to someone who breaks these many rules. But they’ll find some sort of punishment for us, I guess.”
“They could kill us!” 62 shouted. His mind wandered with dread through the list of things that they’d done. “We’ve stolen things, and assembled a computer, and want to find a way to communicate with one of Adaline’s bots. They could chop us up into little bits and then fertilize the fields with us.”
“Yeah, they could.”
“And you’re just okay with that?” 62’s voice cracked with anxiety as his arms flailed over his head.
00 stopped abruptly. “Do you want to know what 42’s Machine has to say? Find out what’s actually going on down in Adaline to our brothers?”
“Yes,” 62 admitted with a slow drawl.
“Do you have any better way to get those bot parts from the elders?”
62 shook his head. His knees felt like rubber. He realized his friends’ plan might be their best shot. It could also be their undoing. What was currently a situation in which Blue was in trouble for stealing a few parts, was going to quickly turn into the four of them being in hot water for assembling and attempting to power an entire Machine. It was going to get ugly. But it wouldn’t be right for them to let Blue take the fall. 62 weighed the fear of punishment with his deep desire to find out what the Machine knew. “I guess not,” he finally admitted.
“Then let’s get moving. We’ll be lucky to get there in time as it is.” 00 hugged the book tight and trotted away. A couple of papers fell out of the book’s binding and 62 scooped them up quickly. He looked down at the pages, 00’s fresh notes stood out clearly on the faded images of a computer’s internal mechanisms. He folded the brittle papers, taking care so they didn’t tear. 00 was right, it was now or never. If he didn’t go along with this plan to expose their project, he may never know what happened to 42 or 71.
Most of this had been his doing, anyway. He’d been the one who wanted to rescue others from Adaline, and who’d convinced the others to help him. There was no way he’d be able to live with himself if he let them give themselves up without him. It was his duty to take whatever blame fell, and if it came down to it, that’s exactly what he’d do. If he could convince the elders that he’d manipulated his friends, maybe he could spare them from whatever fate would befall them. He set his jaw and trotted faster toward their destination.
If the elders wouldn’t support them in building 42’s bot, then he’d tell them that it was his idea from the beginning. Maybe he couldn’t save his old friends in Adaline, but he could do his best to save the friends he’d made here.
CHAPTER 34
THE THEATER WAS CRAMPED and noisy. 62 had never seen so many people since coming to Hanford. He was surprised that news about Blue’s transgression had spread through so many ears in just a few hours’ time. But here they were. Women of all ages flooded rows upon rows of chairs and Men huddled together in groups along the walls. He carefully picked his way through the crowd, doing his best to keep track of 00 as they inched their way toward the front of the downward sloping room.
They made it all the way to the edge of the stage before they saw Mattie. She was over on the side of the platform, leaning on the handrail of the stairs that went up the side of the stage. She waved them over and they tiptoed over the people seated in the front row whispering, “Excuse me,” to each irritated face as they crawled through the narrow aisle. When they made it to the end, Mattie scowled at them.
“Took you long enough,” she huffed. “Another couple of minutes and this whole business would be on its way.”
“Sorry,” 00 wheezed. He held out the book. “It’s heavy.”
62 held up the few pages he’d picked up out of the dust along the way, “And falling apart.”
00 gaped at the sight of the fallen pages. 62 gently wiped the papers on his pant leg to get any remaining dust off them and handed them over. 00 opened the book to find where they’d come from. He nestled them back inside as best he could and closed the worn cover over them again. “Thanks for grabbing those,” he sputtered.
“I figured you’d need them,” 62 said with a nod. He looked at Mattie. “Did you get to talk to Blue?”
Mattie raised an eyebrow, twisted her mouth, and breathed out a snarky sigh. She shook her head, irritated. “Like anyone was going to keep me from talking to my one true love before he was sentenced by the elders... really. Have a little more faith in me, will ya?”
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