“Indeed, it is a sticky situation.” Arthur agreed. “Tell me, did you father find that job fulfilling?”
“He worked a lot of hours and he didn’t complain much.”
Arthur nodded slowly as if he was a shrink and she was his patient. Adam knew that was exactly the case. These were not simple questions and answers being effortlessly lobbed back and forth like a tennis ball in a geriatric game of tennis, there was purpose behind each word. She was a puzzle that he needed to put together and the reason Arthur was having this conversation here, was because he wanted Adam to observe.
Evelyn continued. “I think you could ask 100 people on the street that question and they would all have the same answer, it doesn’t matter.”
“I suppose you are correct, young Evelyn. The job is permanent, whether any kind of satisfaction is gained or not.”
“Do you find your job fulfilling?” Evelyn asked.
Arthur laughed, “It doesn’t matter.”
“Precisely.” Evelyn smiled. “Then why ask the question?”
“Maybe I should rephrase the question then.” He said. “Tell me, was your father content with his purpose?”
“I don’t know. I think he was just happy to have food on the table. He always said he was lucky to have his job. He came from a poor Appalachian family and though we didn’t have much, it was still more than he had growing up. His job in the transportation department awarded him that at least.”
“Interesting.” Arthur folded his hands across his lap as if he was making a mental note. “Say you would have taken the App Test and you were assigned the same job as your father, would you have been happy with that?”
“If I had a say,” she shook her head, “no.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know exactly. I just feel like I’m meant to do something different.” She paused. “I’ve always kind of felt that way. Don’t ask me what that is, because I don’t know.”
“Feelings don’t matter Evelyn.” He admonished.
“That is true,” she said soberly.
“No it isn’t.”
Evelyn flashed confusion. “But…”
“I know what I just said, but I don’t really believe that.”
He uncrossed his legs and inched closer to the table. Adam leaned forward, interested in what his mentor was about to confess. Arthur stirred the ice in his glass of water.
“In our new system of morality, we have attempted to eliminate all feeling and emotion as if it was the plague. We’ve assigned jobs not on one’s ambitions, but on the needs of the state and one’s ability to efficiently meet that need. That is why the App-test was created, to make the tough choices for us and to remove the emotion out of it, no gray, just black and white. Do you know that when a young couple applies for marriage, the Marriage Committees take into account their app test scores? It is the most important factor in approving the marriage.”
Adam didn’t know that. He’d always suspected that they considered all the genetic factors, since the goal of marriage was to produce strong citizens, but he never gave consideration to the App-test. Perhaps it was because his aptitude was determined so early in his life or perhaps it was because the thought of marrying someone had yet to cross his mind.
Arthur wet his lips with a quick drink then resumed stirring the ice in his glass. “But the one factor the examination doesn’t account for will be the one thing that will bring this system down.”
He paused for dramatic affect and once again Adam was reminded why Arthur was such a good teacher. Arthur lifted a clenched fist into the air.
“Emotions. Love, hate, jealousy, fear, they are as essential to our humanity as the billions of cells that make up every ounce of our physical being – and each of those emotions is as essential as the other. Take the water in this glass for example. I’m sure you know that water consists of three atoms, an oxygen atom and two hydrogen atoms, if we were to take the hydrogen atoms away, there would be no liquid in this glass. And if we were to take emotion out of the formula of humanity, what would we have then?”
Evelyn nodded. “That’s what ’we’ve’ attempted to do?”
“Not exactly,” Arthur answered. “We’ve simply reduced the emotions used in the formula.”
“What do you mean?” Evelyn asked.
“I ask you, young Evelyn, if so many people are dissatisfied with their career assignments as you suggest, than why don’t more people just simply refuse?”
Adam didn’t plan on speaking, but the answer sprang from Adam’s mouth before he could think to cage it with his teeth.
“Fear,” he said. “They are afraid of what will happen to them or their families if they refuse.”
Arthur turned to Adam with a look of surprise. “Precisely, my boy,” he said curiously. “Precisely.”
He returned to Evelyn. “I fear, pun intended, that if we continue to neglect the other emotions, our system will fail. Fear is simply not enough.”
“Whose side are you on?” Adam asked.
Arthur stopped stirring the ice in his glass and took a long drink of water. He placed the glass on the table. “I’m on the side of peace. I don’t wish for another generation to see what I’ve seen.”
Adam sat back in his chair and pondered the irony of it. Before him was a man of contradiction, an old soldier who hated war but never missed an opportunity to share his war stories. Adam wasn’t too surprised by that. Arthur Grieves had always been clouded glass, a bundle of philosophies and experiences, a murky gray color. Why should he be any different in retirement?
Arthur lobbed the tennis ball over the net and returned the focus of the conversation back to Evelyn. In other words, the shrink was back.
“You mentioned something a moment ago. You said that you feel you are meant for something, what did you mean by that?”
“I don’t know if I can really explain it.”
“Please try, my dear.”
Evelyn sighed. Adam could see the mental gears spinning behind her soft gray eyes as she attempted to breathe life into her thoughts.
She shifted nervously in her seat and said finally, “I’ve always felt like the piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit, like I was a manufacturer’s error, a miss-cut. I had people who loved me, my Dad, my best friend Lana, my…” She paused, sadness passed over her nimble face like a shadow. “…My mother… Despite that, I never really felt like I belonged anywhere, not at school, not at home even. There was only one place where everything made sense.” Her gaze shifted toward Adam as if drawn there by a magnet. “In my dreams.”
Adam thought about the sketch he’d found in her bag and how he felt the first time he saw her picture among the files he had received from the First General. That was only a couple of weeks ago, but he felt as if he’d lived an eternity since then. Something was changing inside of him. He could feel it, and knew it was because of her. It had started when he’d seen her picture – a stab of emotion, a fleeting feeling of desire. Something had been uncorked inside him and he feared it was clouding his judgment. Still, at the same time, he welcomed it.
Arthur leaned forward just a bit, his eyes probing. “Will you tell me about them your dreams?”
Evelyn blinked then sighed. “I’m always in them but they’re like scenes from a movie being played out of order and they’re so vivid and life-like, like a hologram that you can actually feel with every ounce of your being.”
Arthur was nodding. “Interesting. How do they compare to your other dreams? The one’s featuring your family and friends?”
“They’re not in them.”
“Just you?”
“No, there is someone else…”
Adam felt the stab again. Despite the warmth of the sun, he shivered. He knew what she was going to say, though he knew it was impossible.
Evelyn opened her mouth as if she was going to speak but then slowly shut it. She bit down on her bottom lip, took a deep breath and exhaled. “Can we talk about something else?”
<
br /> Arthur reclined back in his seat and nodded. “Certainly.”
Adam sighed in relief. He wasn’t ready for the answer she was going to give.
Evelyn also seemed relieved that the old teacher didn’t prod her further. “You have been a member of the Party for a long time, did you know a man named Nicholai Larkin?”
The old man searched his memory for a moment then answered, “Not that I can recall.”
She sighed. “I suppose you haven’t heard of the Moirai Initiative either?”
Arthur shook his head slowly. “Sorry, young Evelyn.”
Adam rejoined the conversation. “The Moirai Initiative? You mentioned that earlier.”
Evelyn shrugged. “My mother mentioned the name of the project to me. All she had was a name and it came to her at a great cost. My uncle, a Party Member, was killed shortly after he revealed the name of the project to my parents.”
Arthur squinted in thought. “Moirai…” he whispered to himself. “The Fates.”
“The Fates?” Evelyn asked.
“Three sisters robed in white, the Apportioners. In English we call them The Fates but in Ancient Greece they were known as the Moirai. These three sisters were responsible for the destiny of every living being.”
“What does that have to do with her?” Adam asked.
“I don’t know.” His face lit up with an idea. “But I just may know someone who does. His name is James Lattimore and he was a higher up in the logistical science department. I’ll have Reg put a call into him.”
“He should know something then,” Adam added.
Arthur nodded. “Indeed.”
“Do you think he’ll tell you the truth?” Evelyn asked.
“I do, my young Evelyn, I do.”
“If this information is so dangerous,” Adam said, “how can you be so sure?”
The old teacher took a long sip of his water then said quite confidently, “Let’s just say my old friend James owes me one.”
Adam had trouble sleeping that night. He was on the sofa and Evelyn on the bed. She was a quiet sleeper. As he watched the gentle rising and falling of her chest, he wondered if she was dreaming. And if so, what part of the movie was she seeing this time?
He was interrupted by the faint sound of the door being unlocked from the outside. Adam sat up quickly. The door opened and his Mentor’s face appeared in the gap. He motioned for Adam to join him in the hallway. Adam glanced at Evelyn, who was still sound asleep and silently lifted himself off the sofa and crept across the floor to the hallway.
They spoke in hushed whispers.
“Is she asleep?”
Adam nodded. “Soundly. What is it Arthur? Did you hear from your friend?”
“Not yet. I wanted to speak with you in private.”
“What is it?”
“I have always supported you, but I need to know the truth, Adam. What is really going on here?”
“I’ve told you the truth, Arthur.”
The old teacher leaned forward on his cane, skeptical eyes beamed upon Adam like the light of the moon. Adam straightened himself up into a defensive posture.
“I believe what I am doing is the right thing. You taught me that.”
Arthur pressed on. “What are you doing exactly?”
“Just as I said I was.” Adam responded quickly. “I am going to help her save her family.”
“Why?”
Adam sighed, “We’ve gone over this already.”
“Say that you succeed. What happens then? Your status won’t protect you from the fallout of your actions. You will become like those you hunted—”
“—I know.” Adam said petulantly. “I’ve thought about it. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. I know what will happen. I know that they will make an example out of me. Every citizen will watch as they lead me to the Judgment seat for my crucifixion.”
“Not every citizen…” the old man said solemnly.
Adam looked down into the eyes of his mentor. They were glossy in the dim moonlight. There was pain there and something else, something he’d never seen…trepidation.
Arthur took a moment, breathed deep then spoke with a quivering voice. “Your first year at the academy, you were so tiny compared to the other boys, I seriously doubted if you would survive. Officer’s training is brutal and there had never been a cadet as young as you. We threw you to the wolves and I watched as they circled you, salivating, before tearing you apart. I told myself that it was necessary to make you the officer this nation needed, but you were a just a boy, just a boy…”
Adam saw an image of watery blood in a sink. He felt his ribs cringing in pain with each breath, he heard their taunts, their words like knives. His status meant nothing there, it just made things worse. He paid for it on a daily basis. They loved tormenting the Senator’s son.
“But I survived.” He said finally.
“Indeed you did and what a man you have become. Still, I’m sorry for that, Adam, for what you had to experience.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me, Arthur.”
A single tear wet the old man’s cheek. He reached for a handkerchief but stumbled forward. Adam caught him and the two of them embraced like father and son.
After a moment, Arthur whispered in his ear. “You can be the best of us, Adam. The best of us.”
Adam didn’t know what to say. He didn’t feel like he could be the best of anything. He just squeezed his old teacher tightly. A few seconds passed and the two of them parted.
“I trust your judgment, Adam. You have earned that and my blessing. I will do what I can to help you and the young woman if you deem it the right thing to do.”
Adam smiled, a reserved but grateful curl of the lips. “Thank you, Arthur.”
Arthur nodded as he leaned on his cane. “Now get some rest.” He began to hobble away. “You’re going to need it.”
Adam stood in the quiet of the hallway pondering all that the old man had said. The words, the memories, the honesty, cantered up and down the hall like soldiers marching in formation until he slipped quietly back inside the room. He glanced at Evelyn. She stirred in her sleep. She was dreaming, those vivid lifelike moving images again. He felt a stab of desire but it was tempered by guilt. He had wondered if the movie she was seeing had a happy ending. Now, he doubted that it would.
Chapter Thirty-Two
They left the next morning when the sky was still a charcoal gray. It was a bittersweet goodbye, endearing actually. Only a few words were spoken. Adam gave both Arthur and Reg hugs and Arthur kissed Evelyn’s hand softly before wishing her luck. The two men, pillars of Adam’s upbringing, watched as Adam and Evelyn pulled through the front gate of the Ranch, knowing that the small time they had spent together, would be their last. The birds of sadness perched on their shoulders and sang.
Adam was driving again. He had insisted on it. Reg had prepared them enough meals for the trip and beyond, if they made it that far. The meals were stowed away in a cooler that sat in the back seat behind Evelyn. Arthur had instructed Adam to take whatever they needed and had handed him an envelope of cash. They were as prepared as two fugitives could be. Still, neither said a word. The end of the trip did all of the talking. It mentioned what was at stake. It asked How? Why? What if? Questions that neither were prepared to answer. So, they were quiet.
To make matters worse, the skies above them were busy. OPTIC was very active. Drones and aircraft of all sizes swirled in long looping motions below the aging gray clouds. Adam didn’t say anything, but she knew he was worried. He watched them carefully.
Evelyn pictured the two of them prodding along the sandy slopes of a forlorn desert with buzzards circling overhead, occasionally swooping down to gauge how much strength the two humans had left. She pictured them talking to each other, making wagers on who would collapse first.
“The girl,” one croaked, “I bet my share of her flesh on it.”
Evelyn had been so optimistic when she’d closed her eyes
the night before. After the training she went through with Adam, her success, she felt like she could do anything. But when she’d opened her eyes the next morning, and was met with a dull sunless sky, she hadn’t felt as confident.
What would happen at the end of this trip wasn’t a simulator. People could die, her father, Lana, Rilian…and Adam. She glanced over at him. He looked determined. Why did she include him? It was true that she needed him. The success of her mission depended on his knowledge. But of all the people that she listed just a moment before, he was the one she could afford to lose the most, emotionally speaking. However, even thinking about it caused her heart to ache. She shuddered. She just didn’t want to lose him. She enjoyed his company, like a bizarre twist of Stockholm’s Syndrome.
Despite the unrelenting fear that one of the buzzards would spot them at any moment, the two of them pressed forward and were making good time. A red dot on winding roads of black top, they traveled west. The one positive about heading West was that the Satrapies were larger and the population less dense. That area of the country hadn’t been heavily populated before The War and the decimation of the Pacific Coast had forced those who had lived there to flee eastward.
The Party had encouraged citizens to move west and reclaim any useable land. They’d offered to allow citizens to retest for a new purpose, offered tax exemptions, but the devastation of The War wasn’t easily forgotten. Now the Party simply forced citizens to settle in the West by assigning new jobs in the Western Satrapies or forcing certain citizens to retest. Those people didn’t like being uprooted but there wasn’t much they could do. Protest was a symbol of disunity and any cause of disunity was highly illegal.
Just after noon, it began to rain. Not a light mist but a pounding, pelting rain. Evelyn looked to the sky, if any Drones were up there she couldn’t see them.
Adam noticed her watching the sky. “They still work in the rain,” he said with a hint of disappointment.
Evelyn sighed. She liked it better when she could see them.
An hour later they entered the city of Blue Springs, a new industrial center populated by citizen transfers and refugees from the Dead Zone. Like most modern cities, it had the markings of the Party’s preferred style of architecture. Grandiose steel and concrete buildings soaring into the skyline, though only the flashing red and yellow lights on the buildings’ antennae could be seen though the hovering rainy skies.
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