by Melanie Tays
When I exit the room, I feel like the floor is made of clouds and I’m gliding through a dream. Aiken is leaning against the wall like a perfectly chiseled statue, which only adds to the sensation that this moment is too good to be real.
“Alan said you two were in there,” he explains, wrapping an arm around my waist.
“I had a few things to clarify for Darla,” I explain.
Darla exits the room, shutting the door behind her. When she sees Aiken, she breaks into a wide smile and bustles over to us. “You must be Aiken,” she says, reaching out a hand to shake his.
“Yes, nice to meet you. I hope Mara’s been on her best behavior,” he says jokingly, and I want to kick him. He has no idea what my ‘best behavior’ almost cost us.
Fortunately, Darla ignores the comment. “And your evaluator is Alan, right?” she asks, running a hand through her short, dark hair.
Aiken nods.
Darla bites her lip as though suddenly nervous or deep in contemplation. Her introspective expression stays fixed as she turns and walks away.
“Hmm, that was a little weird,” Aiken mutters.
“What about this whole thing isn’t weird?” I counter, shaking my head and taking his hand. “Anyway, how was your day with Alan?”
Aiken shrugs. “Nonexistent. He never showed up, and Hattie told me that my evaluation is complete.”
“Really?” I ask, unsure what that means.
“She said that Governor Hydes will be giving us our results personally, and that it’ll happen soon.”
I bite my lip as I mull this over. I remember Darla doing the same thing just moments ago. They’ve had us spending so much time together that we seem to be mimicking each other.
“Well, I’m sure you did great,” I say, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “You always do.” I consider telling Aiken about the conversation I overheard last night in the hallway, and the voice that sounded so much like his. But I don’t even really know who or what I heard, so it’s probably best to not say anything. It would just make me sound paranoid.
He turns to me and leans his forehead against mine. “The only outcome I consider a success is the one that ensures we end up together.” And then he kisses my lips, and I forget all about my worries. Darla, the Governor, and the entire beyond fade until I can’t even remember they exist, let alone why I should care.
Chapter 8
The next morning, someone is pounding at my door before I wake. I roll from bed and groggily make my way to the door. When I open it, wearing my purple satin pajamas, Hattie is standing there, poised as ever despite the ferocity of her knocking.
She sighs. “I was starting to wonder if something had happened to you. I’ve been knocking for several minutes.”
“No, just sleeping,” I reply, rubbing my eyes and yawning.
“Get dressed,” she instructs. “The Governor is ready to meet with you.”
“What?” I mumble, confused. “What time is it?”
“Five-thirty.”
I have no idea why this meeting is taking place an hour and a half before I would normally wake, but I suppose Governor Hydes is very busy. If he’s going to meet with every participant of the Exploration Program, I suppose he would need to start early in order to have enough time. I wonder if I’m the first, or if other poor souls have already been ripped from slumber this morning.
Does Aiken know his fate?
I wish I could talk to him now, but there’s no chance of that. I take only a minute to change, and then Hattie escorts me to the Governor’s office—a large pentagonal room with every luxury Sanctuary can offer, which is to say, it is immaculate and breathtaking in its beauty and extravagance.
Governor Hydes is sitting behind an elegant, carved wooden desk. The wood is almost the exact same shade as his hair, a deep brown with hints of red. He wears a cream-colored suit with golden buttons down the front. When he hears us enter, he looks up and his mouth upturns in a warm and inviting smile.
“Mara Oborn,” he greets me, standing and coming to take my hand. He leads me to a high-backed, blue velvet chair in front of the desk, and then goes back to reclaim his own seat. “I’m so glad you joined the Exploration Program. You are exactly the type of candidate we were hoping to attract,” he says, smiling warmly.
I’ve seen the Governor speak a million times, but I’ve never had cause to talk to him personally before. Growing up, I was always just a little afraid of him. He always seemed so stern and almost gruff. But it turns out he’s a lot more amiable than I’d guessed.
“Does that mean I passed? Have I been chosen to go?” I can’t help asking.
He chuckles. “We’ll get to all that in a moment. First, considering that this is a new program, I would like to solicit your feedback. Darla tells me she had a little trouble getting a clear understanding of you initially.” My stomach tightens at the thought that he knows this. That can’t bode well. “Why do you think that was?” he asks.
“Well,” I begin nervously. Just be honest, I remind myself. “I suppose I was trying to anticipate what you wanted me to say and do, because I really do want to succeed.”
“And you were afraid that if you were just straightforward, your answers might be wrong?” he surmises.
“Yes.”
“I see.” He rubs his chin, as though this is important information that must be carefully considered. I just hope it isn’t ruining my chances. “That’s probably an issue we’ll run into often,” he says, almost to himself. “You see, this is a pilot program, but in time we need to evaluate everyone in Sanctuary to see who would be a good fit.”
“You want to send that many people out?” I ask, surprised. “We don’t even know what the outside world is really like yet.”
“Well, as I said…in time,” he replies. “But it won’t work if people won’t just be honest and open so we can get a clear read on them.” His features are taut with frustration, and I can tell this has been a point of concern for some time.
“Have you considered that your process doesn’t really inspire people to be themselves?” I ask, unable to stop myself from pointing out the obvious—at least, what’s obvious to me.
He cocks his head to the side and stares at me, making me think that this is not so obvious to him. “How so?”
“If you want us to be ourselves and see what we really think about things, why bring us here—to a place we’ve never been before, under circumstances we’ve never faced? Why not send evaluators to people’s homes to meet them in their everyday lives? Or use a program on people’s tablets to ask all the questions and observe all you like?”
Now that the question has been broached, I’m unable to stop my mind from getting to work on the puzzle. How could you test everyone in Sanctuary in the most efficient and effective manner possible?
“In fact,” I add, “you could even use the school or people’s Duties to evaluate people without them even knowing. That’s when you’ll get honest results.” I’m not sure I like this idea, but it would certainly work and be a lot more practical than this whole setup I’ve just been through. And I figure this is mostly a theoretical discussion anyway, so what harm can it do to throw out a few suggestions?
The Governor is nodding. “That would make sense. I’m going to have to give that some thought and run a few calculations,” he says, seeming cheered by the idea.
That’s an odd thing to say. I have no idea what about all of this needs to be calculated, but all I really care about is finding out my own results.
“Was there anything else you wanted to know?” I ask, not wanting to look too pushy.
“No, that’s all. Mara, I have excellent news for you. You have been selected to be a part of the first group of explorers. Tomorrow, you will be leaving Sanctuary to discover what is left of the world beyond.”
I inhale sharply, and it’s only then—as I feel the burning in my lungs—that I realize I’ve been holding my breath as h
e spoke.
“Thank you,” I say.
I did it!
I didn’t fail.
I passed.
I have been chosen. I won’t have to spend my days picking up the debris of Sanctuary. I am needed elsewhere.
The Governor dismisses me, and I’m almost to the door when something occurs to me. I turn back to face him. “We leave tomorrow? I thought there would be training first,” I say, uncertainly. Nothing we’ve done so far has taught us anything useful. It’s been completely focused on discovering what we know—not the other way around.
He smiles knowingly. “Not to worry. We have selected your group carefully, and you’ll have everything you need. I’m confident that there’s nothing to worry about.”
* * *
I make it back to my room feeling conflicted. Of course, I’m elated that I’ve passed, but now I can’t deny the growing sense of trepidation at how unprepared I feel. It’s easy for the Governor to be confident. He’s not the one who will be leaving the Safe Dome built over twenty years ago for the sole purpose of protecting us from a world that has become utterly inhospitable—ravaged by disease that not only destroyed people, but the fabric of society as well.
Breakfast was delivered to my room while I was gone, so I guess I’m meant to eat here. Even though the food is excellent, my mouth is so dry that I keep gagging on it. I take sips of my juice, but it does little to help. Now that this is real, and so close, but still so nebulous, most of the excitement is swallowed by cold, clawing concern.
All I want to do is talk to Aiken. I have to know that he’ll be at my side when I embark on this expedition tomorrow. That’s the only thing I need, and the only thing that can calm my churning stomach and fluttering nerves.
I think about my parents, and wish I could be given a chance to say goodbye to them. What could the harm be in that? I can’t deny that I’ll miss them when I’m gone. I know they love me, but I also know they’ll be okay without me. I wasn’t exaggerating when I told Aiken in the Seasons Park that Mom has always wanted to be allowed another child. Surely my leaving will be reason enough to allow them that. Even though I won’t be dead—hopefully not for a very long time—my departure will still decrease the population of Sanctuary all the same.
I manage to wait a few hours, hoping Hattie will come back for me. Surely they aren’t going to make us all spend our last day in Sanctuary holed up in our rooms. But when I try the door, it appears that’s exactly what they’re planning, because the door is locked.
I pound once on the door, more out of frustration than actual hope that someone will hear and release me from this room that feels more like a prison with every passing moment. Then I realize that if Aiken is also trapped in his room, then I do have a way to talk to him.
I go to the control panel on the wall, and it only takes me a few minutes to maneuver my way into the communication system and access the cameras in each room. I’m not sure how to find Aiken’s room specifically, so I just start cycling through all the rooms, hoping I won’t accidentally see anything too private before I can find Aiken.
Toren is pacing in front of his door, looking even more agitated than normal. I wonder if that means he’ll be staying, or going?
I flip through several more cameras that show other participants in varying states of agitation and boredom. At least I’m not the only one they’ve locked up for the day.
Finally, the dining hall appears. I pause, annoyed, because a dozen or so of the participants are eating their lunch together. At first, I think this is unfair, but then I consider that these may be the ones who didn’t pass the assessment and will be staying in Sanctuary. I don’t see Aiken among them, so I’m about to move on when something odd catches my eye. I squint at the screen to make sure I’m seeing correctly.
At one of the tables, there’s a girl with her back toward the camera. She has long blond hair, so light that it’s almost silver. I wait until she moves. Finally, she turns so that I can see her face.
And then I scream.
Chapter 9
It takes me several minutes before I can even look at the screen on the control panel again. My thoughts are whirling.
How can I be in the dining hall—or at least, someone who looks exactly like me?
I study the figure, zooming in to her face, and there is no mistaking the detail in the resemblance. Everything is the same—my thin nose, the set of my jaw, the way I cock my head to the side when I concentrate, and even the tiny, heart-shaped mole on my right cheek.
As I watch, Aiken waltzes in and joins her. He kisses this girl’s cheek, and even though I know it’s supposedly me, it’s not me, and I feel a pang of jealousy.
Aiken! I want to scream. It’s a trick.
But what kind of trick?
I still can’t even guess what this means.
Are all the people I see on the screen right now just some kind—what? Actors, copies, clones…
Think, Mara, think!
There has to be an explanation.
They invited us all here—the malcontents of Sanctuary—with promises that we could leave the city, never to return. Then, instead of teaching us anything useful, they spent our entire time just assessing everything about us—what we think, how we think, our preferences, our motivation, our history. Passing the evaluation was contingent on our evaluator accurately understanding us to the point that they could guess at our answers.
But what if…
The theory forming in my head is so preposterous, I can’t even make it congeal into actual words. I need more data. I go to my bedside table and retrieve my tablet. I bring up my final project—the sensors that detect where people are within a fifty-yard radius. That will take in all of the Governor’s House, and most of the grounds.
I watch with trepidation as dots start to appear across the screen, not sure what I’m expecting to find. I can see that I’m here in my room, and Aiken is in his room down the hall. In fact, all the rooms assigned to the Exploration Program participants appear to be occupied by a single person.
But something is missing, and I’m not entirely sure what to make of it.
I dart back over to the wall panel to see the feed into the dining hall, and it’s still full of people—including what appears to be myself and Aiken. But my screen shows that room to be completely empty—of people, at least.
So why aren’t any of their bio-signatures showing up?
I tweak the settings, making sure the scanners are set appropriately, but everything appears to be in working order. I boost the sensitivity for good measure. The effect this has is unexpected. Now, the dining hall is not empty, but the dots that appear there are not like the ones located in the participants’ rooms. Rather, they are faint dots—as though they are human, just only barely. Part carbon-based bioelectric beings, and part—
What?
I adjust the scanners again to register electromagnetic energy—the same kind that was used to make the library and other holograms in the evaluation room, but that doesn’t reveal anything specific, just a generalized glow over the entire scanned area.
They’re not projections on barrier fields.
So what are they?
Some kind of life form that has evolved outside the barrier field as a result of the Withers or other disease? I’m sure Toren could give me ten different theories this instant if he saw what I’m seeing.
Then I have a thought. I recalibrate my scanner to look for an electrical charge running through the circuitry, and the whole picture shifts. The humans disappear, and the dining hall lights up with several dozen dots.
They’re humanoid robots!
And they have been made to look—and probably act—exactly like us.
How did someone make them all so quickly? We’ve only been here a few days.
And most importantly, why?
Then I see something else at least as disturbing as anything I’ve seen today. The dining hall
isn’t the only place where these bots appear. There is one in the Governor’s office, and another in the hallway just outside my door.
Despite the advanced warning my scanner gave me, I start at the sound of knocking, almost dropping my tablet. “Who is it?” I call.
“It’s me, Hattie.”
I shut my eyes against the horror. Is this bot the same person I’ve been interacting with all week, or has it replaced the real Hattie? I’m honestly not sure which would be worse.
I step quickly to the wall panel and shut off the unauthorized display of the dining room. Holding my tablet behind my back and out of sight, I open the door a crack.
Hattie is standing in the otherwise empty hallway with an air of impatience.
“What do you need?” I ask, trying but failing to keep a quiver out of my voice.
“Come with me. It’s almost time for your team’s departure.”
“What? I thought that wasn’t until tomorrow,” I stammer.
“It’s been moved up,” she says without further explanation.
“Where’s Aiken?” I demand, perhaps a little too forcefully.
“He’ll be along soon,” she assures me.
My mind is reeling with everything I’ve just discovered. If Hattie and the Governor are robots, I’m betting they’ve replaced the real Governor and Hattie. And now there’s a carefully crafted copy of each of us. So what do they actually plan to do with us?
Whatever happens to us, no one in Sanctuary will even know we’re gone. They’ll think we weren’t chosen to leave after all, and these robots will take our place in society. That’s why they needed to understand us so well, to scan our brains and understand every detail about how we think.
Most likely this whole program has had nothing to do with exploring the outside world at all, just a convenient ruse to bring us here and then make the real us disappear. I have no idea what’s really about to happen, but I’m certain I don’t want to go with Hattie right now. I have to get to Aiken before he’s taken, and somehow, we have to get out of here before they…