I was glad she’d hung up before waiting for me to respond, because I couldn’t seem to muster the enthusiasm to praise the technology that was giving us toxic food and water. My hands shook as I called the public nursery.
It took a couple of tries, but I finally reached someone. The instructor’s dour, doughy face and pasty skin filled up the screen as she eyed me. “Yes?”
“Excuse me for interrupting,” I said politely, nudging my emotions beneath the surface, “but I need to speak to Hanson, my brother.”
She pinched her lips, glancing over her shoulder. With a sigh she said, “We’re very busy right now, so please limit it to a quick call. The children are overly panicked and we want to limit their stress as much as possible.”
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
A few seconds passed. Then Hanson hopped on the screen. His face was pale and there was definite fear in his eyes, but otherwise he seemed fine so far. I released the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
“Cally—is everything okay? What’s going on?”
I paused, wondering what I should share. I didn’t want to scare him. But I wanted him to be careful, thoughtful. Finally I said, “There are some problems with the Machine, and it’s taking a while to repair the issues. So until it’s all better, you should probably hold back from using the Machine except when absolutely necessary. Are you all right?”
He gave a small nod. “Just a little…a little scared.” His pitch dropped. “Our instructors are trying to pretend nothing’s wrong, but we can tell. Our water came out with stuff floating in it. They told us to drink it, and some of the kids did.”
My stomach turned over. “You didn’t, did you?”
Hanson grimaced. “No. It smelled bad. When the instructor wasn’t looking, I spilled it onto the floor under the table so she wouldn’t know.”
Despite the situation, I grinned, the tightness easing up a little in my chest. He was so clever. “Good. If you get any more rotten food or foul water, please don’t eat or drink it. It will make you sick.” I didn’t even know the extent of how bad it could be.
And Hanson had said some of the kids already drank the water.
I bit my lower lip. “Listen, if you ever need me, at any time, please just call. Night or day.”
“You’re scared too, aren’t you, Cally?” He clenched his small hands in front of him, shifting his attention to his fingers for a moment. He looked back up at me, his big blue eyes unwavering in their gaze. “I’ll be brave and smart.”
Forcing a smile to my face, I said, “I know you are. And yes, I’m a little scared. But I know things are going to be fine.”
There was a low cry in the background and the sound of a young child vomiting.
Hanson turned around, looking for the source of the obvious pain. “That’s Quinn. He drank the water with breakfast.” He lowered his voice, but the tremble was still evident. “He was crying while he did. And now it’s coming back out.”
“You should go help him then. He’s probably scared.” I was tempted to go see my brother again, but I knew the instructors would watch over him, at least for the moment. Hanson knew not to drink or eat anything bad. Perhaps there was a way I could send for Hanson to come visit me until things got back on track with the Machine. “I’m going to try to arrange for you to stay closer to me if it’s possible,” I continued. “When you get food for the next few days, I want you to try to hide whatever you don’t eat that won’t spoil, okay? Just in case, so you can have something to eat should you need it.”
Hanson nodded. “Okay. The instructors won’t like that, will they?” He smiled. “It’ll be our secret.”
I smiled in return. “Our secret. Be safe. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“All praise the Machine,” he said and then signed off.
I took a few moments to steady myself. Fear and panic was suddenly choking me. I needed to get out of this pod, needed to get Marshal’s calming perspective. The tunnel was silent, as usual, when I opened the pod door and headed to see him. My thoughts thundered in my mind.
Was my mother okay? Tessa? Did they worry about me?
How had everything turned upside down so quickly?
Tears welled in my eyes and slipped down my cheeks. I didn’t even bother wiping them off. My entire life, I’d been raised to believe in the Machine, its powers seemingly infallible. And up until now, there had been no reason to doubt that.
But everything was shattering around me, the pieces spiraling out of control and splintering me. What was there left to believe in?
I sucked in a deep breath. Stop. Panic would not overwhelm me , not when I needed to be clearheaded and ready to plan how to get through this. I still had Kuno and Marshal. There was still the power of my own body. At the very least I had those to depend upon, and I would.
When I got to Marshal’s pod I stopped, drying my face and steeling my resolve. Then I knocked on his door.
He opened it, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw me, though still filled with the last dredges of sleep. “Cally.” He ran a hand across his hair, smoothing down the spiky edges on the back. “Is everything okay?”
“Did I wake you up?” A warm flush worked its way across my chest as I thought about him lying in bed, his long, bare legs tangled up in his sheets.
Marshal gave me a crooked grin, and my face burned hotter, my limbs pulsing in time with my heart beat—did he know what I was thinking? “Come in.” Opening the door wider, he invited me inside. “I didn’t sleep too well last night.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. This is going to sound odd but can you do me a favor? Turn on isolation, please,” I asked him.
He gave me a strange look but walked over to the switch. It emitted a grinding whine, squeaking, and then turned on.
“What was that?” His voice was filled with shock.
“I think the Machine is failing,” I replied. “I ordered water this morning and it was bad. Isolation isn’t working right. And it’s not just me—I got dozens of messages from others, and even the public nursery is having problems.” It took all my courage to say the next words. “Marshal, I think we need to go up to the surface.”
He started, his jaw dropping. “Wait, what?”
“Something in my gut is telling me we need to go up. Now. We’re running out of time. Before things get…worse, we have to see if Kuno is right. If the surface is nontoxic.” My legs suddenly shaky, I dropped into his seat, resting my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands.
I couldn’t make myself say the rest of my dark fears—that one day, our lives might depend on being able to survive Homelessness or expulsion from the colony. The urgent need to come up with a plan was pressing on me like a massive weight, squashing the air in my chest.
I needed to know answers, now.
He whooshed out a huge breath of air and squatted in front of me. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll get through this, I promise.” His words were gentle as he lifted my chin up, piercing me with his eyes. The heat from his fingers poured into my skin; now I shook even more, but for an entirely different reason. That strange yet intoxicating throb in my core sent vibrations of pleasure spiraling through me. “If Kuno can do it, so can we. We have each other.”
I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from his. I’d heard an idea a long time ago that the ancients used to travel across the oceans in massive boats, navigating its choppy waters with fearlessness and bravery the likes of which I’d never been able to fully imagine. But Marshal and I could do the same with this frightening new world.
“Let’s go to the surface,” I told him.
Chapter 12
“Every facet of the colony—from tile to furniture to even color—has been particularly selected for maximum comfort and functionality. Neutral, identical designs and hues ensure uniformity regardless of pod location, so there’s no need to travel. Every pod looks alike. Every colony is the same.” ~ The Book of the Machine
“Are you sure you w
ant to do this?” Marshal asked. He gave me a worried glance from the side of his eyes, standing beside me on the lift. “You know I want to go, but I don’t want to make you do it.”
“I’m the one who suggested it, remember?” I said lightly, not wanting any anxiety to show in my voice. “Kuno did this by himself. We are going together, armed with knowledge about what happened when he went. So it’ll be fine.” I was babbling, trying to convince myself as much as him.
“Okay.” He still sounded dubious but thankfully dropped the subject.
The doors opened on the railway level. We exited the lift. Everything looked and smelled as it did before—dim, slightly damp. The puddle was still there, a little larger now.
“You weren’t kidding,” he said, looking down at it. “Wow. The floor isn’t absorbing the water at all. There’s a definite lack of Machine technology here. It’s like being in manual mode, but even more extreme.”
I nudged the side of his arm with mine, feigning a casualness I wasn’t quite feeling. “I told you. Isn’t this weird?”
There wasn’t enough room for us to comfortably walk side by side, so I took the lead, careful to keep my steps as soundless as possible. While I felt more at ease this trip, I was still nervous about letting anyone—or anything—know we were here.
“Just a little bit up, there’s a dark spot on the tile across the rails,” I whispered.
As my arm swung back, Marshal’s warm fingers brushed against mine and he clasped them. We walked, me still slightly ahead but him right behind, fingers entangled in each other’s.
“I never realized I’d—” He cleared his throat. “Well, that I’d find so much comfort in these small touches.”
I found comfort too, and it made me happy to hear him say that. But that secret part of me also wanted to hear him say it did more than just comfort him. That his body might react in a startling way like mine does, every skin cell tingling to life with just a mere caress. A pulsing desire to be closer, to know each other more intimately.
“Why do you think this level looks so different than any other?” he continued, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Um,” I said, looking around at the tiles and walls, “I think Kuno had said this was done before the rest of the colony was constructed. Maybe they decided to go with a different approach when they moved down.” Finally I spotted the hole I’d created in the wall. “Look,” I said, pointing with my free hand. “There it is.”
“Oh,” he breathed, gripping my hand tightly. “Let’s go.” Before I could reply, Marshal tugged me across the rails, bouncing and jumping between each one. He squatted down and eyed the opening.
“Honestly, I’m surprised it’s still here,” I offered, standing off to the side as he examined the crumbled, rotted tiles and gaping blackness beyond. “I figured the Machine would have repaired it already. Do you think that’s because of all the problems with it lately?”
He shrugged. “Could be. Or maybe it’s just a reflection of the overall lack of Machine technology on this level.” Marshal touched the tiles, watching dust and bits fall to the floor in front of his feet. “Did you go inside?”
“No, I was…” I stopped, swallowing.
He stood, giving me an easy smile. “Hey, I would have been petrified. I’m glad you didn’t go without me.”
I smiled my thanks. How well he knew me.
“Are you ready?”
So much behind three small words. Was I? Once we breached this hole, there was no going back to how things used to be. This would likely change my life. Of course, that was even assuming we could make it onto the surface.
And that we didn’t die in the process.
Sweat dotted my palms, and I wiped them on my pants. I barely trusted myself to speak so I simply gave him a nod.
“Let’s work on making this hole a little bigger then.”
I took the left side and Marshal took the right. In the interest of keeping things quiet so as not to alert anyone about what we were doing, we tried to move slowly, precisely, controlling the drop of tiles as best as possible.
It took us a painfully long time to widen the hole down to the floor going at this pace, but after a half hour or so of working, we cleared a space that was as high as our waists and as wide as the length of my arm. I was covered in clumps of dirt and dust, and my upper arms were admittedly a little sore. But there was something comforting about doing this physical labor.
We stopped to admire our handiwork. I cleaned my hands off as best as possible on my pants, and Marshal did the same.
He had a smudge of dirt on his brow. Chuckling, I reached out to wipe it off. When my fingertips brushed his skin, his eyes grew hooded, his lips parting. The unspoken message in his gaze seemed to mirror mine.
He felt the same pull I did. The realization filled me with a deep sense of satisfaction, even as it increased that longing.
The edge of his mouth crooked into a smile. “Thanks,” he said, the word thick.
“No problem,” I managed to reply.
We stared at each other for a moment. In that moment I resented my ignorance, that naïve stab of longing in my core that said I wanted to be closer to him, but I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant. And right now, I was too afraid to ask him how he was feeling, what he wanted.
“Uh, we should probably head through. You know—not get caught doing illegal activities.” He winked.
I grinned, a little relieved the strange tension of the moment was broken, yet a little disappointed too. “Be my guest,” I said, waving toward the hole. “I’ll follow.”
He stepped over the rubble and peered into the dark, reaching an arm back as he did so. I automatically took his hand and followed him into the tunnel. It was damp and smelled odd, like the breath of earth had been trapped in here for ages. Despite the strangeness, I found after a few moments that it was not so bad.
I felt open, connected to my surroundings in a way I’d never experienced before.
My eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, and I could see faint cracks of light above me, in regular intervals. Obviously there used to be some sort of lighting system, dependent on old technology, and its glow was almost fully gone by now.
I edged up to Marshal’s side, keeping my fingers entwined in his. This hallway was wide enough to accommodate us both.
“How far do you think this passage goes?” I whispered. The tiny row of lights above us seemed to stretch on forever, leading to a minuscule pinpoint prick in the far distance.
“Not sure. We’ll keep going until we find something.”
“Did you tell anyone we were coming here?” I asked then almost laughed at the ridiculous question. Who would he tell, other than Kuno?
Marshal shook his head, eyeing the lights above us, the walls on both sides, examining for anything that might lead us up and out. Small drops of water dripped somewhere off in the distance, an irregular plop-plop sound like what I’d heard in the railway tunnel. “I figured we can talk to Kuno when we return. He’ll be interested in what we discover up there.”
“Do you think he misses it?” That must have been a pivotal moment in his life, to pierce the surface and experience a whole new swarm of sensations. Had he ever wanted to go back? Was that one time enough for him?
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out the truth about it when we get there.”
Once more, I was overwhelmed with a surge of emotions. Fear. Excitement. Anxiety. Would the sun burn my skin? Had the atmosphere changed since Kuno had gone up there? “Should we have asked for respirators?” I asked. A little late for that now, though I guessed we could turn back.
I didn’t want to, though. I wanted to be brave and press on, not give in to this growing panic pervading my senses. If Marshal and I returned to our pods, something would keep us from coming back here. I just knew it.
Marshal squeezed my hand. “It’s going to be okay, Cally. Kuno didn’t use one and he’s fine.”
“What if the air has gotten wo
rse and we can’t breathe it?” I couldn’t stop these questions from flying out of my mouth. It was all spiraling right in the center of my chest, tingling out to my limbs.
I stopped right in my tracks and sucked in several deep breaths, leaning over, hair draping across my face. I wanted to be strong. I didn’t want him to see me like this.
He gave me space, sensing I needed a few seconds to pull myself together and shake this off. After a minute he grabbed my hand and tugged me up. “Cally, we’re in this together. It’ll be okay.”
I nodded, letting the pleasure of his touch soothe my mind. If the air was toxic, we’d still have the artificial air coming out of the tunnel that we could use to breathe. And we could come right back down.
This would be fine.
“Let’s keep going,” I finally said.
Another minute or two passed in silence. The water-dripping sound was closer now. I saw a large black hole on my left side and squeezed Marshal’s hand. “Look—I think we found something.”
We walked to it. I wished I had brought a light source. I hadn’t even thought of it in my excitement to talk to Marshal. But I didn’t hear any alarming sounds, so I roused my courage and stepped into the void, hands reached out in front of me.
I took small, shuffling steps. After a few of these, my right hand touched a chilly metal pole. Feeling around confirmed that it was a ladder.
“Marshal,” I said, unable to hide the shake of excitement—and a little fear—in my voice. “Look. Here’s where we can go up.” A glance at the ceiling didn’t reveal anything more than darkness extending far above us. But my gut told me this was where we needed to go.
“Cally, I’d like to go first,” he said quietly. “Just in case.”
I rolled my eyes. “I can take care of myself, you know.” But I moved aside and let him feel his way to the ladder, listening carefully as he progressed up.
Once he sounded safely above me, I gripped the rungs and followed. I could see very little, yet the sense of being closed in surrounded me. The tunnel up the ladder was narrow; I bet if I reached my arm out I’d touch a wall.
Ten Days Page 9