by Dima Zales
“If you inhale, they’ll recover even faster,” Phoe says over her shoulder. “Though I believe you should be able to keep this up for a while.”
I exhale and instantly inhale again, then hold my breath for another minute as I run.
“I should’ve run faster to test your limits,” Phoe says when we reach the bushes that signal the Edge of Oasis.
She walks through them and I follow, still holding that last breath.
“Why do we have these nanos if we don’t use them?” I think at Phoe.
“They’re embedded into the embryos that become citizens of Oasis,” she responds in my head. “Like I told you before, since the Forebears eliminated natural reproduction along with sex, all Oasis babies result from embryos that came from Earth, during a time when not using this technology in a baby was considered criminally negligent. The Elderly must somehow disable and control these nanos. When I get my hands on that process, we might allow a new generation to be born the way they should’ve been.”
I digest what she said as I look at the strange skies. Here, there are stars where the Goo used to be, stars that meet the morning sky where the sun is still coming up. Augmented Reality manages to blend and smooth the two impossible views together. The blue sky has a couple of stars near the horizon, then it darkens gradually, going fully black where the Goo would be. I breathe out audibly in awe. This view will take a long time to get used to.
My lungs nearly empty, I force myself to exhale some more, testing what will happen. Nothing really does, and I’m able to stay this way, though holding the ‘out’ breath while my lungs are empty feels unpleasant. I allow my body to inhale normally, then exhale, and repeat the cycle a few times. When my breathing becomes subconscious again, I subvocalize, “Okay, Phoe. I officially forgive you. That was really cool.”
She looks back at me with a strange mix of pity and worry. “You can be such a kid sometimes.” She pauses, then adds softly, “I regret I got you involved in all this.”
Her seriousness reminds me of the things I put out of my mind for the last few minutes. “I’m glad you got me involved,” I subvocalize and realize I actually mean it. “I’m glad I know you. I’d always rather know the truth.”
I look at the stars again, thinking of what lies out there.
“I so desperately want to figure out where we are,” Phoe says, moving to stand next to me. She looks at the stars with such longing that I feel an odd ache in my chest.
“You couldn’t locate us even with your new resources?” I ask quietly.
“Right, I couldn’t. But I did have a plan as to how to acquire the necessary resources.” Phoe’s gaze is distant, and her voice sounds wistful.
“You did?”
“Yes, but it’s not important now.” She forces a smile to her lips.
“I’d like to hear about it anyway,” I think. Then I can’t help but add, “Along with anything else you might have done to the technology in my body.”
“I didn’t do anything else to you, I swear,” she says, turning to look at me. “Regarding my plan, do you remember the Test Jeremiah mentioned at the very beginning of his conversation with the Envoy?”
“Vaguely.” I sit down on the grass.
“Well, when I intercepted their conversation, it wasn’t the first time I’d heard of this Test.” She sits next to me, and thanks to the tactile Augmented Reality, her leg brushes against mine. “This Test was on my radar soon after you fell asleep last night.”
“He said something about the new generation of the Elderly and Birth Day,” I subvocalize, pulling my feet toward me. “It sounds like those rumors you hear about the exit exam that Youths take on our fortieth Birth Day. They say it’s so the Adults can see what our jobs will be once we join them.”
“Yes, and they’re not rumors.” She scoots sideways so she’s closer to me. “Youths take an aptitude-and-interests Test. It’s nothing sinister, just a way to figure out what you want to do with yourself as an Adult. The Elderly Test is a little more mysterious. I don’t know what its actual purpose is—probably also to test aptitude for something—but the interesting thing about it is that it uses technology similar to the IRES game, which is how it got on my to-deal-with list.”
“How similar?” My pulse accelerates. “You don’t want me to beat something like that cursed game again, do you?” The memories of falling from the tower and fighting cyborg-Jeremiah flit through my mind.
“You know I do, or else I wouldn’t have brought it up, but I don’t think the Test will be as disturbing as the game was,” Phoe says. “The only thing they have in common is the ultra-realistic immersion you’ll experience and that it’s tailored to each user’s brain. Whatever the Test’s purpose is, given that it’s something the Adults take as a prelude to becoming a member of the Elderly, we can be sure it will not be entertaining.”
I shake my head at her reminder that the game, with all its unpleasantness, was designed with entertainment in mind. But then, what else would you expect from the ancients? They were insane enough to jump out of airplanes, handing their lives over to contraptions made out of fabric. I have a very hard time seeing anyone in Oasis wanting to put Adults through a game like that to initiate them as the Elderly.
A new realization takes my anxiety in a different direction, and I subvocalize, “If it’s a Test only Adults are supposed to take, how can I take it? Wouldn’t they notice something like that?” I turn my whole body toward Phoe. “Also, if I’m supposed to bring this Test down the way I did with the IRES game, wouldn’t the Elderly notice that? Wouldn’t they get suspicious? First the Zoo shuts down, then this?”
“We’re still talking hypothetically?”
“Right.”
“Well then, let me answer the easy questions first.” Phoe also turns so we’re facing each other. “If you’re the last person to take the Test this Birth Day, my hope is that no one will notice its absence for a year, until the next Birth Day, which might as well be an eternity from now as far as I’m concerned. I can figure something out by the time they need to take the Test again. Also, I didn’t get a chance to tell you this, but I brought the Zoo back online to make sure no one noticed it was gone, although that further reduced my resources and increased the need for this Test.”
“Okay.” I digest that as I hold her gaze. “What about the not-so-easy questions?”
“I had a very clever scheme in mind, something that can only be done on Birth Day.” Phoe smiles mischievously. “When their systems update everyone’s ages, I was going to tweak yours so that instead of twenty-four, you’d turn the ripe age of ninety.” She puts her palm out, silencing my upcoming objections. “I was going to dedicate part of myself to monitoring anyone accessing your age statistics. If and when anyone tries to look at your age, that part of me would make sure they saw your real age, twenty-four. That wouldn’t require any Augmented Reality manipulation. I would simply trick the Screen of whoever—”
“Okay,” I subvocalize slowly. “So you have a way to let me take the Test.”
“Right.”
“And you need it gone so you can get more resources?”
“Exactly.”
“To figure out where we are—where you are, as in the ship?”
“That,” she says, “and our destination. I want to know where we’re flying to.”
I feel gooseflesh rise on my arms. It’s the same reaction I get whenever I let myself think about the idea that we’re flying someplace specific.
“Yeah,” Phoe says, the awe in her voice echoing my state of mind. “We could be traveling to settle on some new, Earth-like planet. Lots of evidence, like that stash of embryos, points to that possibility.”
An Earth-like planet.
I remember my earlier dream. It’s a possibility so wonderful I’m afraid to hope. Running for miles and miles without the Barrier of the Dome to stop me would literally be a dream come true.
“What about Earth?” I think. “Is there any chance we coul
d go back?”
“We could, in theory at least,” Phoe says. “We got from there to here, so we should be able to get back. But, Theo, going back there would be a rather radical scenario.”
“Because of the technological advances?”
“Yes.” Her voice is soft. “I wasn’t brought up to be a Luddite the way you were, and even I find the idea of Earth overwhelming.”
Phoe told me earlier that Earth might, by this point, be a planet that is itself intelligent—whatever that means. The whole solar system could be sentient, she said. Meeting something like that sounds both frightening and wondrous. If we are truly mortal—an idea I’m still keeping locked in a small box somewhere in my mind—then I want to see what’s happened on Earth before I die.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” Phoe replies as a thought. “Because if anyone could make that happen, it would be me.”
“To that end, maybe we can still implement your scheme?” I mentally ask. “Once we get out of this Envoy mess?”
Phoe raises her index finger to her mouth in a ‘be silent’ sign, which is funny since I was thinking, not talking, so she should be putting her finger to her temple. For a second, her eyes get a distant look before focusing again.
“They’re about to have that Council meeting,” she says.
She flicks her arm and a large Screen appears in front of us.
On the Screen is a spacious room with a bunch of white-haired Elderly sitting on ancient, throne-looking chairs.
Jeremiah is the only one who’s standing.
To his right is Fiona, the woman who stood up for me yesterday. Every other Elderly looks completely unfamiliar.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Council,” Jeremiah says, his face a stony mask. “There’s a dire situation you need to be made aware of.”
4
The twelve Council members wear a mixture of worried and curious expressions. Fiona and four other women appear to have fallen on the curious end of the spectrum, and so do five of the men. The rest look concerned.
Jeremiah examines everyone’s faces. I guess he still suspects one of them of causing the Forgetting, despite the Envoy’s position on the matter. Or, as the Envoy insinuated, perhaps Jeremiah is looking for a way to use this situation to advance his political agenda. Judging by the way Fiona confronted him yesterday, Jeremiah and Fiona seem to be at philosophical and political odds.
Having completed his examination, Jeremiah says, “An unauthorized Forgetting was perpetrated.”
The silence in the Council room is absolute, their faces almost comical in their shades of shock.
“That’s impossible,” a younger-looking man says. “It can’t even—”
“It’s fact.” Jeremiah plants his feet in a wide stance. “The Envoy has informed me.”
The room erupts in incredulous whispers.
“How convenient,” Fiona says, getting up from her chair, “given that you’re the only one with access to the Envoy.”
Jeremiah bares his yellowish-gray teeth in a smile that lacks even a hint of warmth. “Would you like to meet the Envoy?”
Fiona visibly pales, sits back down, and stays quiet.
I guess meeting the Envoy is considered a scary proposition—something I take note of.
“I apologize for my outburst,” Jeremiah says to Fiona in a completely unapologetic tone. “The Envoy, in his wisdom, included you in the forthcoming investigation, so if you need proof of my words, know that he endowed you with the Lens of Truth.”
The murmurs turn into shocked exclamations.
Fiona whispers something to a thin man sitting next to her, and Jeremiah says, “If you’re testing it on Vincent, don’t. We are to start our investigation with Youths, followed by Adults. If we need to question any of the Elderly”—he gives the rest of the Council a threatening glance—“I will have to consult with the Envoy again.”
“I see,” Fiona says, her slender fingers twitching at her sides. “I guess I can test it later.”
Jeremiah gives her a contemptuous look. “Why would I lie about something so easily verifiable?” When Fiona shrugs, he says, “I also wouldn’t recommend using this power idly. It was granted to us for a specific purpose, and that is to investigate the atrocity committed against everyone here.” He sweeps his hand around the circle of the Elderly.
“Committed against you,” says Vincent, the emaciated man Fiona just whispered to. “The rest of us have been through a Forgetting many times.”
Jeremiah’s posture stiffens. “You never agreed to Forget this. There’s a Council meeting missing from our minds, and who knows what else. There was no psychological benefit to this Forgetting. It was done with malicious intent.”
Every Council member speaks at once. In the cacophony, I make out questions along the lines of “How can that be?” and “Who could even do such a thing?”
“I will have order in the Council,” Jeremiah says, raising his voice above all others. “You are acting like a bunch of Youths.”
The noise quiets down.
“Now.” Jeremiah scowls. “I think you understand the severity of this situation. The only people who have the power of Forgetting are in this room, yet somehow, we were the targets.”
Jeremiah pauses for dramatic effect, and it works. Everyone looks at him with bated breath. Vincent literally slides to the edge of his seat. Even Fiona looks subdued and respectful.
“The Envoy nominated me and Fiona to lead the investigation into this dire matter,” Jeremiah says. “We are to start with… well, this is where things get tricky, as we are getting into matters I cannot recall.” He pinches the loose skin on his neck. “There was an unfortunate situation where a Youth was Forgotten two days ago, and there’s a chance that this rather rare event is somehow related to our predicament.”
The noise is back.
Fiona looks around at her fellow Council members and speaks up, raising her voice to be heard over everyone’s mumbling. “I have no doubt you’re telling the truth, Jeremiah, but you have to understand how difficult it is for us to believe that a Youth had to be Forgotten.”
“I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling, but I do envy you all.” Jeremiah looks genuinely sad as he says this. “I carry the burden of remembering these tragedies. If it were not necessary, I would not have brought it up, but there’s no other way for us to discuss the Envoy’s plan.”
“What is the Envoy’s plan?” Vincent is a millimeter away from slipping off his chair.
“Fiona and I will interview everyone who knew this unfortunate Youth,” Jeremiah says. “That is, after I figure out who his friends and enemies were.”
“How will you do that?” Fiona tilts her head to the side. “Wasn’t the information irrevocably lost during the Forgetting?”
Phoe and I exchange glances.
I didn’t even think of this, but it makes sense. If Mason wasn’t mentioned anywhere, then getting a list of his friends is impossible.
Jeremiah frowns. “The Keepers have their own private, unaltered archives,” he says with evident reluctance. “And if you”—he stares at Fiona—“are willing to undergo Forgetting after this matter is finished, I could give you access to them to aid in this investigation.”
Phoe tenses. She must’ve hoped they didn’t have unaltered archives. Then she sighs and says as a thought in my mind, “At least this gives me a valuable resource.”
“Let me listen to them,” I think back and concentrate on the Screen, where Fiona has already said a few words I missed.
“—would submit to a Forgetting if the good of Oasis required it,” Fiona says and glances around the group uneasily. “I will do whatever I can to assist this investigation.”
“It’s settled then,” Jeremiah says. “The rest of you, after all this is done, will have the luxury of Forgetting that a Youth suffered such an unpleasant fate. Now—”
“I’m sorry, Keeper,” says a round-faced old woman. “Are you planning to work on this immediatel
y?”
“Of course,” Jeremiah says with a note of kindness in his voice. This must be a woman he likes.
“And you’ll need Fiona?”
“Obviously.” Jeremiah’s kindness slips toward annoyance.
“It’s just that”—the old woman reddens—“we’re about to get a new crop of newborns on Birth Day. It’s a lot of work. Plus we’re moving the older youngsters to the Youth section, and there are the celebrations themselves…” Her voice trails off.
Jeremiah looks at the woman, then at the rest of the Council members, and finally at Fiona.
Fiona doesn’t look like she noticed his stare or heard the round-faced woman’s complaints. She appears lost in thought.
“I have a question too,” Vincent says. “How can you and Fiona interview Youths? Will you bring them here and make them Forget it ever happened? They aren’t supposed to see any signs of aging.”
“That’s easy enough,” a younger-looking Elderly says. “Fiona and Jeremiah can dress as Guards. It’s what—”
“I’m sorry,” Fiona interrupts. “There’s a thought I can’t shake, and please forgive me if I’m being paranoid, but to paraphrase what Jeremiah said at the beginning of this meeting: if someone made us Forget, wouldn’t the most logical person be one of us?”
She looks around the room.
The rest of the Council members look at each other warily.
“The Envoy wants us to start with people outside the Elderly,” Jeremiah says. “So I assume he has reasons to—”
“And that may be a prudent approach,” Fiona says, “but I think it might not hurt to take a precaution or two anyway. I propose that Jeremiah and I continue discussing this matter privately.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Jeremiah says and gives Fiona the sullen look of someone who wishes the idea had been his. “But we’ll have to put it to a vote, since the rest of the Council will be deprived of information that is their due.”
“Of course,” Fiona says and gives Jeremiah a sharp smile. “All in favor of discretion, please raise your hands.”