by A. I. Zlato
“No, I cannot. If I disobey, it would be hell, and I might not be able to come back at all. Tomorrow, things will calm down, and I will go with you.”
Fighter ended the conversation with a bow. With pain in her heart, Iris watched them leaving. She checked the time and sighed. She could not afford to be late at her first class.
She passed through the gate, which was open at this hour, extended with a wall two metres high. She wondered almost every morning if the wall meant to prevent students from leaving or others from entering. She would choose the former solution, although she knew she was the only one thinking such things. This wall was certainly there to protect children from the outside world, to offer them a privileged study environment. It was, in any case, what that crazy joke called ‘school brochure’ indicated. Behind those walls was a green and orange courtyard, the colours of which wanted to project a gay and attractive environment. Iris found these colours gaudy and unattractive. Neither a tree nor any plant was there to beautify the yard.
Also, according to the brochure, vegetation was prohibited for hygiene reasons. It was rather because residents of the Second Circle dislike nature, like any City dweller living ‘from the inside.’
The courtyard was both dull in the absence of vegetation, and noisy owing to the students. Deep inside this rectangle crammed with young people before classes started, lay the building. E-shaped, it had three floors. Coupled to its structure, already unusual, was pigmentation in two odd shades. School buildings were generally covered with a uniform blue vegetable membrane. Here, the corners of the building and window frames, as well as two horizontal bands at the ground level and under the roof, were all dark red. The remaining walls were milky white.
This bicoloured representation was deliberate. The plastomer used was reproducing the image of a building during the Elders’ era. As the propaganda would have it, this was to symbolise the transmission of knowledge from the earliest generations to today’s generation.
The whole configuration was particularly ugly, between the violent colours of the yard, the gray wall and the red and white of the odd-shaped, small building. Yet, children flocked in there without paying attention to the whole configuration.
Iris crossed the courtyard, vaguely answering her classmates’ greetings. While walking, she noticed that Liam seemed to have been following her. Not only was she not interested in him at all, his manners were also particularly exacerbating.
She gave him a rejection look that would have chased away anyone. He did not seem to notice the gesture, and stayed around her, with a silly grin on his face. Upset, she rushed through the large corridors. If the building had some allure, despite the improbable architectural choices, the inside design belied that impression.
The cracked and scaled walls let the metal structure show in some places. The stairs screamed their age at every step, swaying dangerously when an entire class passed thereon. The technology of ascending rail had not reached this area, which was another oddity. According to school management, it was a way to force students to be physically active. That was indeed an idea of adults! Iris crawled through the stairs to reach the second floor, with Liam still in the shadows.
She sat at her desk, and shook up her hair so it would be a barrier between them. Always insensitive to her nonverbal messages, he began to talk. He spoke to her about classroom study, homework, yearend exams he was sure to pass, all those things she did not give a damn about. Fortunately, class started, and he became silent, as the good student he was. Darkness pervaded the classroom, and the teacher projected on the wall various welding processes used in the manufacturing of electronic components. She really had no interest in the course, because she knew she would never have to weld. Factories were fortunately equipped with many machines, and her work would be limited to the design or final assembly, but certainly not the production itself. Still, she had to take those courses. Soldering, printed circuits, transistor, chemical treatment … the entire production process was shown, explained, elaborated, dissected.
Quickly, Iris’ thought process steered farther away, and she imagined herself in the Forest. Her reveries led to Fighter’s legitimate concerns. She had to find out who had denounced her, who was following her wherever she went. She glanced at Liam. He was stalking her everywhere, but only on school premises. Such a perfect resident of the City would not dare make an unauthorised exit after class, let alone out of his Circle.
Who then? She could not directly check messages her parents had received. Even if she did, she would not learn anything relevant. Despite her dad’s crazy behaviour, he would not have lied to her. If he had known the message sender, he would have told her. Iris pondered the best way to unmask the anonymous source. She first had to make a list of people who were likely to send such a note, in order to narrow her scope of investigation.
While formulating her thoughts, she had the impression she was acting like her mother when leading an investigation. She had no desire to be like her, and that idea made her freeze. She mustered her brain capacity for a few more minutes, to get to the evidence. If investigators used that approach, it was because this was effective. It was necessary to admit so — and too bad if her approach was similar to the one professional investigators used. This would only be a temporary exercise, anyway.
Morning came and went, and she still had no idea about the person’s identity. She had spent too much time arguing against herself.
Then came lunchtime. Hundreds of students rushed down the stairs and gathered in front of the doors leading into the dining hall, in a wing of the building. The wait line was perfectly organised, in five rows, and each students had an assigned seat. This did not prevent some shoving and jostling. As doors opened, everyone rushed inside. Iris followed them without enthusiasm. She stopped before the scan that assessed her nutritional needs. Depending on the scan results, her meal was served and placed on a tray.
She would have liked to choose her own food, according to her desires and tastes, but such considerations had no place here. The Machine, represented by the scan machine and its algorithms, knew what was best for her. This brooked no discussion. Taking her tray, she went to sit at a deserted table, soon joined by the unavoidable Liam and other classmates. She tried to engage in the conversation, but quickly gave up. She was really trying to make efforts, but she found no interest in hollow conversations without a relevant topic. There were merely words following each other, the sole purpose of which was to cultivate social relationships.
This type of connection did not fit her personality, and she could not pretend she was happy throughout a single day. Pondering the rich exchanges she had had with her new friends did not make things better. She hurried to finish her meal, and leave the uninteresting chat session.
She went out into the courtyard, where only a few people were at this time of the day. In that place, which looked like a prison, she walked aimlessly. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to find tranquillity. All was noise and movement. Her chip notified her of the imminent resumption of classes, and her brain followed the data injunctions. Like a slave, she obeyed her master. The Machine was indeed the topic discussed in the next class session. Iris called those sessions ‘Glorification Imprisonment Propaganda,’ or GIP. They were only litanies to position the Tower as the Super Power of the City.
She repeated several times the GIP acronym, and felt pain in her skull. Compared to what she had endured when she cut off the data stream, during her last expedition to the Unique Forest, this pain was quite bearable. Spending time with her new friends had made her stronger each day.
Leaving the teacher alone in his passionate lecture, she resumed her mental investigations. The person who had denounced her knew her well enough to have spotted changes. Those who fit this description were her parents, classmates and teachers. She would remove her parents from the list. The informant must have observed her, and followed her, after school. It was therefore necessary that he or she be available at that time. Unfortunately, this ne
w criterion eliminated nobody. Add the fact that he or she found her behaviour abnormal enough to notify her parents, a criterion which did not bring out any relevant result.
She pondered things again. The denunciation did not happen earlier, but only when she joined her friends directly at the rail station. Previously, she had waited, outside the school, for Fighter and the rest, and they left afterwards. The anonymous source had not established surveillance after she left school. She had not drawn his or her attention by staying outside the school, after every other student left. The person must have spotted her at the rail station.
She had to find out who was standing there, when class was over, and who was on the previous list. All her teachers lived near school and did not need to take the rail to go home. They could, however, use it to go elsewhere, but it would have been improbable to find one at the rail station, given that they generally stayed late on school premises. Her classmates did not need to commute by rail, either, except those living in another Circle and using this means of transport every day — criteria that narrowed the list down to three people, including Liam. Even if she could not categorically exclude teachers and others students from her investigation, she decided to zero in on these three.
During the break, she got closer to the three, and started the conversation, first through trivial subjects that everyone adored. Very soon, she was stuck in attempts and innuendos that were increasingly grotesque. Liam took her aside.
“I hope you did not get in trouble …” He said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, with your parents. I am sorry, but I had to tell them, for your own good …”
“What are you talking about, really?” She said, inquisitively. She wanted to be certain he did it. She could not be happier with only a strong assumption.
“I sent a message yesterday …”
“So it was you, the well-wisher?”
“Yes, I did not give my name, you understand …”
“Not at all. Why were you anonymous?”
“Well, uh, I was scared.”
“What do you mean? Who? What?”
“Well, with your new friends! The big dude out there, who was waiting at the gate this morning. I wondered that if he knew what I had done …”
“If you simply minded your own business, you would not need to be scared.”
“I could not have acted otherwise.”
“Really? So you have nothing better to do in your spare time than to spy on me?”
“It is not my fault! I take the rail every day, and when I saw you with these two guys and two redheads without chips, I thought you were perhaps in danger, so I …”
“So you think I will buy that? On one hand, you send an anonymous message because you were afraid of reprisals, and on the other hand, you follow me to protect me against the same people you were afraid of?”
“I am a law-abiding citizen”, he replied, in a professorial tone. “I saw that you have changed dramatically, lately. You were not speaking to me anymore, can you realise that? So, yes, I followed you. I saw your weird friends, and I saw you leave the City. I worry about you, you know, so I had to do something.”
“So, really, all this occurred because I did not want to speak to you?” Iris shook her head, thinking about Fighter’s fears. No one sought to eliminate them. The culprit was nothing but an insignificant boy seeking attention.
“This behaviour is quite unusual, don’t you think?” He said, inquisitively.
“Let me ask you something: have I ever told you anything other than ‘leave me alone’?”
“That is exactly my point. Your new friends are making you aggressive. You never would have told me such a thing before.”
Iris tried to answer, but restrained herself. She had better understood the stance of the rest of the band, who wanted to remain discreet. They feared that kind of abrupt, irrational behaviour. The incomprehension and desire to bring people onto the ‘right’ track, as Liam described it. She knew she had to hide better, at least in school. She should not draw attention to her, if she wanted to remain free. She felt cowardice again. She advocated the dissemination of their ideas, she wanted to spread the good gospel, and at the same time, to save children from suicide. Well, she had been presumptuous and had imagined unrealistic things. She thought she was exaggerating. True, she had to lay low for now, but that was only to protect her friends. Later, at the right time, she would share their ideas.
She promised herself to continue the conversation in a different tone, hoping that her voice would not betray her lack of sincerity.
“OK, you … you are probably right; I have become aggressive. But put yourself in my shoes; my father punished me after receiving that message, and I took the whole thing the wrong way.”
“I am sorry, please believe me. But I could not have done otherwise.”
“I see that your intentions were good, and I … I will pay attention to the way I speak.”
“Will you stop seeing them?”
Iris took a deep breath, twice, before answering. She needed to be persuasive.
“I will stop following them, but I cannot stop them from taking the same rail line as I do, nor to come to school.”
“No, it is true. For the rail commute, I meant. But if you no longer talk to them, they would have no reason to show up here.”
“Yes, they would get tired, obviously.”
Iris continued the conversation, pretending to be interested in Liam’s life. She did everything possible not to show her boredom too openly, facing the deluge of words he sent her way. The break was over, as the speakerphone heralded. Before returning to class, she sent a message to Fighter informing the group of the identity of the ‘well-wisher’ who had exposed her. She gave them, in broad lines, the topic of their discussion. To avoid any further issues, that was very simple. She would systematically commute in the rail following Liam, to make sure he did not follow them. They would need to ride a few rows behind her, not next door. If Liam had any suspicion, she would ride in the opposite direction at first, before riding back and join them. She also asked them not to come to school. That was the price of their freedom.
When class was over, she checked Fighter’s reply. He approved all items in her plan, and agreed to inform other members. He also notified her that he was now, thanks to her, completely reassured. She felt proud of winning his trust. She returned home, with a lighter heart, despite the punishment. The apartment was, as expected, empty. She sat in her room, after having robbed the pantry. The latter had outdated software that recommended unbelievable meals, which she always wanted to try. Today, she was entitled to chocolate bar, jam and smoked herring. This sounded terrible. She lay on her bed and decided to forget this day, dreaming of her next expedition into the Forest.
Mystery is only temporary. It evaporates under the lighting of knowledge. Knowledge means for the Equilibrium what mystery means for chaos.
The Legend of the Elders, the History of the Machine
Chapter 29
: Space H. (Periphery)
Night had fallen several hours before Paul finally decided to go home. He rose from his chair, triggering the standby mode of the terminal on which he was reading. A similar terminal model was available in each lab office, and was part of a network of cabled, electronic devices affixed onto the ceiling. The column of cables extended onto the table that was his office desk, and extended to the end, in order to materialise a screen. All columns came together to form a node in the centre of the building, and the node contained the laboratory database and programs necessary to run the facility. This node was itself connected to the Machine, which thus had access to generic data from the lab, but not the database itself.
When Paul stood up, the terminal’s pear-shaped end became opaque, making the document’s image disappear. He left his office and walked across the deserted corridors. From a distance, he spotted the silhouette of Sandra leaving her office and reaching the hall. Behind him, the bui
lding automatically locked itself, after the last worker left the premises.
Lights in the corridors dimmed, and a protective wall came down on intermediate doors. The History Department turned in standby mode, protecting documents, files and materials contained therein. The department would start up only in the presence of a researcher working there, whose energy signature would unlock the protection system. Without the presence of an authorised person, this part of the building, like others, would remain locked down. This type of protection was available to buildings storing information that the Machine considered critical.
This resulted in two things. First, the History Department was considered important, despite what people in the City murmured behind the researchers’ backs. Second, the data it stored had to be protected … from whom, from what? Who would benefit from stealing or destroying these documents? Paul shook his head, to chase these thoughts off his mind. There was really no time for this kind of questions, which would have led nowhere, anyway.
He went through the hall, and greeted the night-shift guard, who answered distractively. Outside, Edgard awaited, bending its spine, so Paul could hop on easily. On the way home, he became immersed in thoughts on Chrijulam, on these children trapped in a religious belief, whose only getaway was nothing but death. He intensely felt a sense of urgency.
Back home, he pondered the best way to help Baley. When he worked on manuscripts, he generally did not have a tight deadline. If he needed a few extra hours to complete a translation, that defer did not bother anyone but himself. However, in the investigation, everything was different, every lost hour could be fatal to a new group of children. Now that they had found a promising trail, they had to dig into every clue quickly. No more time for digressions with Edgard, to talk about the Earliest Space … He had to radically change his way of working, and his manners, in order to support his teammate.
He surprised himself to thus consider Baley, as a partner, despite all the mistrust she inspired to him. Some days ago, he did not even know she existed. He allocated back then his time to his work and Edgard, to the Earliest Space and the Kandrons’ universe. The Special Agent had made a big splash entered his world, replete with old documents and philosophical discussions with his Kandron.