Rebels
Page 38
“What’s celebrate?”
“Celebrate is … being happy together.” Dr. Goyer straightened and looked into Martyr’s eyes. “What do the other doctors do when you have marks?”
Martyr swallowed, torn over how to answer. If he didn’t tell Dr. Goyer the truth, the other doctors would, and Dr. Goyer would know Martyr had lied. Lying always made things worse. “Mostly they use needles to test the contents of different vials. Medicines for outside, I think. Sometimes the vials cause pain, sometimes they make us sleep. Other times the doctors put sticky wires on our bodies that buzz our insides. And occasionally they just ask questions.”
“What kind of questions do they ask?”
“Questions about pain. Questions about math and science. Questions about Iron Man and Fido, or Rolo and Johnson.”
“Who is Iron Man?”
“The doctors call him J:3:1. He’s the oldest who is still living, which makes him the leader. But many of us choose not to follow him. He’s cruel. He’s cruel to Baby.”
Dr. Goyer walked to his chair and sat down, glancing over the papers on his desk. He picked one up and read from it. “What’s the most important rule here?”
It was the standard list of questions. “Obey the doctors.”
“What is your purpose?”
Martyr swallowed and closed his eyes. “My purpose is to expire. To be a sacrifice for those who live outside.” Martyr opened his eyes and met Dr. Goyer’s. “Like you.”
Dr. Goyer folded his arms and stared at his lap.
Did the doctor want a longer answer? “I expire in twenty-five days, when I turn eighteen. Then my purpose will be fulfilled.”
Dr. Goyer looked up. “Does that scare you?”
No one had ever asked if he were scared. “I don’t want to expire.”
“Because you want to live?”
“Yes, but not for myself. I’m content to sacrifice my life to save thousands from the toxic air. But if I’m gone, who will take care of Baby? And if Baby doesn’t live until he’s eighteen, he’ll fail to serve his purpose. That wouldn’t be fair.”
“It’s important to you to serve your purpose?”
“It’s why I’m alive.”
Dr. Goyer rubbed his mouth with his hand. “Can I answer any questions for you, Martyr?”
Martyr thought about the orange necktie and the picture of the daughter. “How do you celebrate Christmas?”
“You give gifts to those you love.”
Dr. Max had explained gifts once, when they talked about being nice to others. But the other word was new. “What is love?”
Dr. Goyer ran a hand over his head again. “Uh … it’s when you have kind feelings for someone.”
Dr. Goyer had been kind. He had given enjoyable marks and mended Martyr’s wrist with no lecture. “Will you give me a gift?”
“Maybe someday.”
“An orange necktie?”
Dr. Goyer pursed his lips as if fighting a smile. “Probably not.”