Silo 49: Deep Dark

by Ann Christy

  Greta picked up the piece with careful fingers, immediately found the tiny button and popped open the cover. She turned it over to look at the face of it and ran her finger over the unmarred glass. "It is exquisite."

  Piotr held out a hand and asked, "May I?"

  The historian seemed reluctant to hand over the treasure but did so, her free hand beneath his during the transition in case the watch fell. He, too, looked over the details of the case and frowned when he looked at the scene as it was revealed when both sides faced him. "I'm not sure this is something we need to keep. It's violent."

  Greta tilted her head to the side, as if considering her next words carefully, "You are correct in that it is in essence, if not in exactitude, against the tenets. However, we do kill animals to provide food and materials we need and that is what is being done there."

  Piotr laid the object down and pushed the envelope to the next person as if to get it away from his person as quickly as possible, an expression of distaste on his face. He replied, "Not humanely."

  "No," Greta agreed, "not in the way we might choose to do it now, but I think that is a very old piece. From long before our history begins. Perhaps that is what they considered humane then."

  "I think it is from..." he stopped there, going no further with his thoughts. Marina thought she knew what he was going to say because she had thought it herself when she first examined the watch. Even before she found the hidden image and letter inside, it hinted of outside to her.

  "You think it is from the First People or before them," Greta said. It wasn't a question.

  He nodded stiffly and stopped himself from looking again at the watch as it made its way from hand to hand around the table. "I do."

  Marina wondered what Greta would say to that and watched her closely. She also watched the others. Would their faces give away their thoughts about the object? Her secret knowledge of the image and the letter gave her curiosity an edge.

  "I think that you may be correct in that, however I have nothing that can prove that as a certainty." Greta's response was suitably noncommittal for a Historian and frustrating for Marina. Apparently, it was the same for Piotr.

  "And exactly how could one ever possibly prove it? What do you want to do with it?"

  "As to your first question, I can't think of a scenario in which I would be able to prove this. The presence of an animal in such surroundings does hint of...and please excuse my choice of words...well, it hints of outside in a time before the First People. That could mean that this object was made by one of them after reaching the silo as a reminder of what once was."

  She paused a moment, either gathering her thoughts or trying to choose her words carefully. "If that is the case, then this item is of a value that can't be ignored. That being said, it could just as easily have been made generations later based solely on fantastical ideas passed down from the First People."

  Greta turned back to Marina and asked, "What do you know of the object? What did you call it?"

  "A pocket watch. It came from a resident on Level 50. The turn in slip didn't have much more on it."

  "And did you go speak with the resident?" Greta asked and Marina was suddenly very glad she didn't stop and try to speak with Genevieve Hardi before.

  "No. I came here with it."

  The watch had made its way around the table again and back once more to Greta. She wrapped it in the cloth and tucked it back into the envelope, this time protecting it under her folded arms. Marina felt a pang as it disappeared from view and she wondered if she would see it again.

  "I'll see to the investigation on this piece," she informed the group. “And the Historians will also visit the hotel and find out about this storage."

  It was said with finality and everyone else seemed to take it the same way Marina did. She immediately began turning over in her mind how she would go about speaking to Genevieve Hardi. She was probably going to have to make it look like an accidental meeting. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that if she didn't find out what she could for herself, she would never know the answers.

  It would be found out by the Historians and then ‘studied’ by them for decades, never being shared until every possible avenue was thought about over a lifetime or two. That wouldn't do. She had the picture and the letter and knew more than the historian who had just taken the watch and the responsibility away from her.

  A few of the pieces were selected for tentative inclusion into the holdings of the Memoriam and a good many others were selected for imaging and then reclamation. The other items sat, looking rather forlorn on their envelopes. They were neither important nor interesting enough and would be immediately reclaimed, their designs destroyed forever.

  The ring that changed color when worn by the wearer was selected to be saved and Marina was very happy about that. They had each tried it on and gotten a slightly different color, with Piotr getting a yellowish green that was very pretty and Greta getting a blue that almost looked purple. She wondered if they would let others try it on or if it would simply go on display.

  The group tried to be social for a few minutes, following the tradition of ending all discussions on friendly terms, but it faltered as each of them thought their own thoughts. With assurances that the objects to be drawn would be ported back to her very soon, Piotr left.

  Everyone aside from Marina, Greta and Taylor made their way out shortly afterward. Taylor was waiting for Marina to finish re-packing her satchel so he could escort her out when Greta told him that she would do it. She told him she wanted to have a few words with her. Marina tried not to react.

  Marina cinched up the cord on her little sack, now much lighter, and stood. The pain in her foot and thighs was still at bay, but slowly coming back. She hoped she wouldn't embarrass herself in front of the older woman.

  Greta appeared to be examining her for something and Marina looked right back at her. Her colorful coveralls were at odds with her serious and quiet expression. She was taller than Marina and possessed an angular frame of such spare flesh that the planes of her face were sharp and bold. Though she knew Greta was at least a decade older than herself, to Marina the woman looked ageless, both old and young at once. It was perhaps that she kept her expression so carefully neutral that this was so. The lines she saw on her own face and that of her husband, the ones that showed a lifetime of laughter and smiles, were entirely absent from Greta's.

  When the historian didn't speak, Marina cocked her head and asked, "What is it?"

  Still Greta didn't speak. Instead, she reached out and closed the door again. The little noises of IT disappeared behind the thick door once more and Greta drove her point home by leaning back against the door. Marina knew that she wouldn't be leaving until whatever Greta wanted was obtained. Her stomach tightened nervously and she had to purposely loosen her grip on her satchel to avoid white knuckles that would give her away.

  Greta crossed her arms in front of her chest and said, "You have something more to tell me about the watch, don't you?"

  It seemed to Marina as if the room grew very cool and she suddenly had a strong need to pee. The historian was gazing at her with that level look and she knew she would never be able to convincingly lie about anything. She could only hope to avoid it and she thought her odds at success in that were very close to zero. She had been taken off guard. No doubt that was Greta's intent and that made it hard to hold back.

  To gain a few moments of time, she turned away from Greta and shuffled back toward the chair she just rose from. She said, "If you don't mind, I really can't stand for long."

  That seemed to take Greta aback, perhaps because it showed rudeness on her part by allowing someone injured to stand only to be waylaid. Either way, Marina was gratified to see a tick of expression on the Historian's still face and her arms uncross.

  Greta paused and then strode around the table to regain her own seat directly across from Marina at the table. Marina thought the choice interesting. Either she did it because she se
es this as an adversarial situation or because she naturally avoids change. After all, she could have easily chosen either seat to the side of Marina and not had to go as far in the doing.

  Marina knew she would need to answer the question quickly so that Greta wouldn't get the impression that this was a delaying tactic, though it certainly was, so she answered, "It's about the objects, of course."

  Greta nodded and motioned for her to continue.

  "Well," she paused and considered her next words carefully, "these objects depict things differently than here in the silo, at least some of them do, yet they are recognizable. Would you mind bringing out the objects you kept back for a moment?"

  The older woman seemed a little hesitant now but she reached for the envelope she had tucked into the largest pocket of her coveralls and withdrew it. She had used her kerchief as a cushion for the objects and now she carefully unrolled it, laying the objects onto the envelope. The watch came last.

  Marina reached over and took up the watch, clicked it open and turned it around so that Greta could see the whole scene. "What do you see here other than the killing of an animal?"

  Greta apparently knew precisely where Marina was going with this and gave one short and sharp nod of her head. "I realize the animals are different and the scene is, well, less ordered than we might expect."

  She was referring to the precise lines of crops and the grids of trees where such existed within the silo. In the watch there was a scene of wild abundance, as if an entire farming level had been let go and seeds flung everywhere.

  Marina picked up the funny clip that had star shapes and stripes with the fierce animal above. She pointed to the animal and said, "And this?"

  "We don't know what that is exactly. We've been able to find no actual description of it anywhere, but we see the same animal in different postures on many such items as you've brought here." She shrugged. "It is a type of bird, such as that depicted in some of the children's books and on the puzzle boards. The appearance is certainly different in character but it has many similarities. It must have existed at some point in the past here and then died out."

  The thudding in Marina's heart increased in pace and she knew the time was now or never. If she admitted what she found and explained that she wanted to talk to a historian about it she might be able to live a life after remediation.

  Until the words came out of her mouth she wasn't sure what she would say. It was her mouth more than her brain that decided for her and she would never know if it was cowardice or bravery that made her say what she did, "I think these objects are trying to tell us a story. I think that we might melt down the story before anyone realizes we should be listening."

  Greta's eyebrows rose a little and the action put a few wrinkles in her brow. It was the most movement Marina had seen in her face thus far. "You sound a bit like a Historian." She leaned forward now, elbows on the table, "What makes you think that?"

  "There is more here than meets the eye," she replied and waved her hand over the collection of items on the envelope. "Take the watches for example. I brought you a selection of them, but one entire box of items I received from that hotel storage was watches and those bands with blank screens that look like watchbands. I looked in the back of two and they are both filled with electronics. I think they are watches too."

  "And...?"

  "And, ask yourself this question. Why would so many people in the silo need watches? I've received all this from just one level. There are probably a lot more of them out there and I'm very curious to see how many. But why? There are clocks everywhere. Why would so many people need watches? Can you tell me?" Marina's voice remained quiet as she asked each question.

  "I think that you might have already decided on a reasonable answer. Let me tell you if I agree with your assessment," Greta replied, her voice as even and enigmatic as ever.

  Greta's response meant that she was correct, or close to it. "I think these come from outside, from the First People," at this Greta blinked once, and gave a nod so tiny it might not have been a nod at all, or might be denied to be one.

  She said nothing so Marina forged on, "But you said that was possible of all these artifacts so that is no shocking revelation. It is the implication of that no one else seemed to recognize that I think is most important."

  "And that is?"

  "That they were capable of doing this on the outside, before the silo called them. If there were only the few humans being randomly born into bands of Others and they were trying to survive to get to the silo, how did they stop and create the specialized tools and develop the infrastructure necessary to create just this one thing?"

  She held the watch up now, its terrible beauty and ominous meaning only truly clear to one person in the room it seemed to Marina. "There was more to the outside than I know of and I have to wonder, do you know what that more is? Are you keeping it from us? What more is there to know?"

  At these final words, the Historian began to frown and sat straighter in her chair. She held up a hand to stem the flow of words from Marina's mouth and said, "We are straying toward territory that is not ours to discuss, or at least not mine to discuss with you outside specific situations. Before we talk further I will need to consult with the other Historians. Let me just say this on the subject. We are the first to admit that our history is incomplete."

  She got up then and moved to the chair next to Marina. She took the watch from her hands and laid it down, then grasped each of Marina's hands, her thumbs pressing on the fine bones on the back of her hands. It wasn't painful, but it was firm. That pressure told Marina that whatever would be said next was important for her to hear, to really listen to.

  "But some of what we have found is confusing. Because we can't know that we understand the context and are only sure that these bits are not complete, they are not shared. There remain things that we must keep aside not out of dishonesty, but out of ignorance of the truth."

  She spoke with such sincerity and seemed so intent on Marina understanding her words that the lingering feeling of not knowing who to trust seemed to fade. Marina felt sure that should she now speak of the image and letter that this woman would not only refrain from turning her in, she would help her. It was with actual physical effort that Marina held back her desire to speak the words and instead said, "I think I can understand that. But I have seen something more now. I've seen those things and that watch."

  It was a challenge as much as it was a statement. What Greta said next would help her know the truth of things, of how much was hidden and why.

  "And I'm sorry you did." Greta released her hands and sighed, leaning back in her chair as if exhausted. Perhaps she was. Marina knew little of the daily life of a Historian. Perhaps they worked long hours. She went on, "If I could redo this, I would have asked instead that we be trained in the testing process and had the reclaimed items sent to us instead. You should not have so much uncertainty in your life. That isn't fair."

  Marina's gut tightened at the thought of anyone taking this duty from her. What more might she see? What more clues might arrive in future boxes?

  "But," Greta sighed again, this time it sounded to Marina as if she had made some decision and did not like the decision she had made, "the damage is done and changing now will not undo this. And in truth, we do not have the labor hours this would require of us. We are only four, you know."

  Marina nodded. This she knew. Only four Historians existed because the population numbers allowed for only that number. More people would need to be born and come to adulthood before another Historian could be made.

  "So, I propose this solution and I will persuade the rest of the council that this is the best solution. You will continue the work but you will consult on any further questionable items directly with me. You will speak with no one else on your findings or your thoughts on those findings." This last bit she said with particular emphasis. She meant there would be no more talking about First People making things outside. It also mea
nt that what she had said here would go no further. The sense of relief was immense.

  "I can do that," Marina replied, keeping her tone as even as possible so as to not betray the excitement she felt.

  "I further propose that you speak freely to me, when it is appropriate, on these same thoughts. Don't harbor them or let them fester. Come to me. Do you understand?"

  Marina nodded, glad there would be a safe outlet where she might say these things. Her window to share was rapidly closing and she knew it. This moment of grace was being extended to her and her instincts told her it was being done because the other woman already knew she was still hiding something. She pursed her lips to stop the words from coming out but she seemed unable to control her own mouth.

  She said, "If I find something interesting, like that watch, I would like to be included in the research about it. Or if I find something more."

  The look on Greta's face told Marina that she had said too much and that the other woman's suspicions were confirmed. Yet Marina saw no victory or maliciousness in her face, only a sort of smoothing of her features as if she had averted some unpleasantness.

  "Tell me," she said.

  "Could I be included in such research? Even though you said there may be no absolute answer and only muddles of confusion, I want to know. I don't want to be shut out," Marina said instead of answering the question.

  Greta looked off to the side for a moment, as if looking to another person for an answer. She said nothing but as the silence lengthened Marina grew nervous. She jumped when the silence was broken by the crackle of paper being shoved underneath the door. It lay there, a dull cream colored square on the dark floor and Marina's heart took a tumble in her chest.

  She looked in the direction Greta had and saw the tiny reflection of the lens. Cameras were in so many places that she did not even think to look. She felt sure that the paper held some directive to bring her to remediation and for a moment, she longed desperately to see her husband and child, just one last time before she came out some bland shadow of herself.