Adaline

by Denise Kawaii

  "Beginning electroconvulsive therapy session number one," the first Nurse said as it leaned toward the dials once more. Its fingers touched the large switch in the center of the contraption.

  The blue metal door swung open with a loud screech and a clang. For once, 62 was glad that the Machines did not react to sudden movements and sounds the way Boys and Men did. Instead of startling with the sudden intrusion of another Man into the room, the Nurse simply paused and stood frozen in time waiting for its next command.

  "Stop this madness!" The Man rushed the small group and began pulling at the restraints holding 62 tight.

  62 looked up through a well of tears to see 71 unceremoniously pulling at the straps. He tried to shout out his recognition, but the noise that passed through the hard rubber wedged between his teeth and over his tongue came out as a garbled "Uaaaghhh!"

  The doctor stood up from his hover chair with such quickness that it skidded across the room and crashed into the thin table against the wall. "What are you doing? We're in the middle of a procedure!"

  62's head, arms and legs were suddenly covered in a flurry of moving hands. 71 raced to undo the restraints and pull 62 from the table, and the doctor rushed behind just as quickly re-fastening the straps.

  "The proper steps were not followed to authorize this treatment." 71 stumbled as he spoke, already out of breath from his endeavors.

  "The patient came to us voluntarily, complaining of an anomaly. No further steps were necessary." The doctor wheezed back to his similarly aged brother.

  "He's just a Boy. Unable to assess his own behaviors. You know that in these cases a teacher must be notified of his student's perceived conditions!" 71 scraped 62's arm as he tried to release it again from its confines.

  The doctor raged. "You were informed, obviously, for here you are!" He grabbed the same arm 71 was trying to free and shoved it back against the bed.

  71 let go of the strap he had been loosening and grabbed the doctor's coat instead. The doctor grasped at 71's long beard and the two pushed and pulled themselves across the room, knocking into the bed, Nurses and tables as they struggled against one another.

  "Doctor. Man 2871. Cease your assault." All three Nurses chimed with the same unified voice. Their eyes all began to glow blue, and their sleep fog ports opened in their chests.

  The two Men froze in their struggle with one another. They each looked toward the Nurse closest to them and slowly let go of their brother. The Men separated by two full paces, and each straightened his garments and cleared his throat respectfully.

  71 spoke again, and although his message was directed toward the doctor he did not break his gaze with the Nurse beside him. "Doctor, it has been brought to my attention that the patient is below the allowable age for voluntary surrender. As his assigned teacher, I am responsible for monitoring any perceived anomalies and filing a formal report prior to attempted treatment."

  The doctor stood up straight and walked past the Nurses back toward the table. "The approval for the procedure has already been given. It must proceed."

  71's jaw tensed and he spoke now to the Machines. "Nurse, have all procedures and requirements been met for the treatment of Boy 1124562?"

  All three Nurses' eyes flashed blue as they reviewed the record in their systems. The Nurse standing closest to 62's bed replied, "Negative. Proper reporting of the procedure by the Boy's authoritative figure has not been filed. The procedure was approved by administrative staff without a signature. Teacher 2871, do you verbally approve this procedure for your student?"

  "I do not." 71 stated through gritted teeth.

  "Voluntary surrender is void in cases which involve Boys where documentation is not found." The Nurse began to undo all of the restraints holding 62 to the bed. A second Nurse removed the electrodes from his temples and put the electrical wands back on their table. The third Nurse removed the hard block of rubber from between his teeth and put it in a sanitation tray in the corner.

  "Well, that settles that, then." 71 took 62 by the hand and pulled him gingerly off the bed. "Nurse, will you kindly bandage 62's arm? That is quite the scratch he has there."

  One of the Nurses gingerly cleaned 62's arm and covered it with a strip of gauze, followed by a bit of tape to hold the bandage in place. The doctor approached 62 and bent over to look him in the eye.

  "Boy, isn't it true that you suffer from an anomaly?" The doctor didn't wait for a response. He lurched forward and added, "And wouldn't you like to be repaired?"

  62 looked back at the frightening doctor without blinking. "No. I was mistaken. I do not require any assistance."

  CHAPTER 27

  It was a long walk back to the pods from the doctor's room. For a moment 62 thought about how much easier a trip it had been resting on the slim white bed with wheels. Then he changed his mind. It might be far, but he'd rather walk than get handled by Machines like that again.

  "Are you doing okay?" 71 slowed his pace so that he could fall into the same tentative step as 62.

  "I think so." 62 wasn't sure if he would ever be okay again, but didn't want to let 71 know that.

  "I'm glad that I made it to you in time. The treatment they were administering is unpredictable." The teacher looked at his student with tender affection. "There's no telling what could have happened to you. I might never have seen you again."

  62 stopped in the hallway a few paces from the elevator door. "The Nurses showed pictures of other Boys who were treated with that thing. I'm glad I didn't end up like them."

  71 placed his hand on 62's shoulder and squeezed it gently. The old Man then took the last few steps toward the steel door and pressed the down arrow on the panel beside it. The red ring of light encircled the button and the two figures began their wait for the door to open.

  "We have to discuss the issue of your dreams. I should have taught you to shield them from the others much sooner. I wasn't aware that the doctor had found a way to monitor them." 71 sighed with exhaustion. "He has always had such a linear mind, I didn't think that he would ever discover dreaming at all. I suppose even old Men can learn new tricks."

  62 closed his eyes and fought the urge to throw up. All of this focus on his dreams had his stomach in knots. Just thinking about the doctor being in his mind, and the resulting treatment, made him sick.

  "You told me that there were others who could see my dreams the way you do." 62 tried to keep calm, but an edge of anger rose in his voice. "Why didn't you tell me that dreams were so bad? That Man in there wants to put electricity in my brain because of it."

  "I know." 71's reply was quiet and trembled slightly. "I'm terribly sorry that this happened. I'm going to help you protect yourself so Men like that won't be aware of your abilities. If you trust me, and follow my instruction, then you will be safe."

  "But they already know I dream!" 62's shout echoed down the empty corridor. "They already know I see things when I sleep. The doctor has even been in my dream before. He knows I can talk to people in my dreams, too."

  "Trust me, 62. This is not the first case of dreaming that I have taken care of." 71 tapped the down arrow again, but nothing seemed to happen in response to his impatient button pushing.

  "Not the first?" A hot swell of anger filled his chest, causing his voice to crack. "There have been others? And where are they?"

  71 grabbed hold of 62's flailing arms and held them down to the Boy's side. "No, not the first, and not the last either. Some of them have grown up to be Men with careers throughout Adaline. A few of them have gone on to supervise others in the Community and flourish in their positions. They use their imagination to help shape our world and influence the Community. But many of them become reckless and end up in places like this. Taken, and never seen or heard from again. Not in the classroom, and not in dreams. Dreamers may be stripped from their pods and are stolen away from Adaline altogether.

  "You must trust me, 62. You have got to listen to what I will teach you, and put it into practice. Because if y
ou don't, you'll be lost forever."

  62 ceased his struggle against his teacher. His eyes filled with the blur of tears, and then suddenly he was crying. 71 released his grip on 62's arms and slid his hands up and around the Boy's back until the two figures were entwined in embrace. 62's sobs grew in intensity, but they were muffled by the old teacher's tunic and the protective cover of his thick, flowing beard.

  "I d-don't want to be l-lost." 62 stuttered once he found a break in his sobs. "I just want t-to be a g-good Boy."

  71 hugged 62 tight and whispered, "You are a good Boy. You are also very special to me, and to Adaline. I don't know when, but I promise your dreams and drawings will prove to be valuable in time. You will one day have the power to make Adaline better for all Men."

  The heavy door leading to the elevator box slid open quietly. 62 pulled away from his teacher and wiped his eyes. 71 pressed his hand against the door, preventing it from closing before the pair made their way inside.

  62 started to take a step toward the elevator, then stopped again and looked up at 71. Through still-wet eyes, the outline of the teacher was blurry. “What is grass?”

  71 looked shocked at the question and took a moment to think before responding. He pieced together the connection between the question and the rough doctor they'd just left and shook his head in disgust. “It is a common name for the Poa Pratensis you've seen in your dreams. ‘Grass’ is only used by those who are uneducated and unwilling to use the proper name for things.”

  62 nodded, satisfied with the answer. "I want to go back to my cube."

  "So do I," 71 agreed. "We have just one stop to make before we go back." His slender finger pressed a button on the inside of the elevator and the tiny box began its quiet descent to level B15.

  CHAPTER 28

  The door opened to reveal a room larger than any 62 had ever seen before. It dwarfed the long corridors of his pod, and even made the Dressing Hall seem insignificant and cramped. Although the bright white ceiling wasn't particularly high, the walls were spaced far enough for all of C.A.T. to be dropped down inside them with room to spare.

  71 stepped out of the elevator and took a few strides before realizing that 62 was not following. He turned and waved his hand at the young Boy.

  "It's okay; come on. We don't have much time before someone realizes you have taken a detour. We must act quickly."

  62 stayed in the elevator and shook his head. The door started to slide shut. 71 leaped back and put his hand against the edge of the door just before it sealed closed. The door obediently opened again in response to his touch.

  "I wish we had time to stand here and discuss this, but we do not. Come with me." 71 took 62's hand in his own and tugged until the Boy took a step forward.

  "What is this place? I want to know what's happening." 62 pulled away and pressed himself against the back wall of the compartment.

  "This is where one of my good brothers works. Somewhere forgotten by most of the Community. Please, 62, you must trust me. We are losing valuable time."

  71 didn't wait for a response. He grasped 62's hand and pulled him out of the elevator. 71 took long, hurried strides into the vast emptiness of the room and 62 struggled to keep up. They walked a dozen paces into the space before 62 could see where they were heading. He didn't like what he saw.

  Far in the distance lay a thin white bed with slender steel legs. Several low tables surrounded the bed with a number of shiny instruments lined in rows atop them. Lights shone down on the lab, making the entire scene so white and shimmering that it blended into the distant walls in the background.

  62 gasped, then twisted his wrist until it slipped through his teacher's grasp. Before he could process another thought, his feet took off with him and soon 62 found himself sprinting across the room toward a far corner.

  The bright lights, empty space and monochromatic landscape disoriented 62. He ran blindly toward one of the far walls in hopes that he would find a door or some other method of escape. The sound of his racing heart filled his ears and drowned out 71's shouts as he called after him.

  62 reached the wall and began running his hands all over it, searching for a sensor or control panel. Finding nothing, he spun and moved to his right, running his hands frantically over the stark white panels. Suddenly, 71 was upon him and grabbed at his tunic. The fabric tore as 62 bolted again. The attempt to get away ended when 62 found himself in a corner with 71 right behind him.

  "You're going to strap me down to a bed to repair me!" 62 spat with fury.

  71 grasped 62 around the wrist with more determination than he had before. He panted from the sprint across the great room. He was not so angry as he was tired and out of breath.

  "No, Brother. It's not the same. I promise." 71 moved back toward the bed and tables. He marched across the room with resolve, dragging 62 behind him.

  "It looks the same!" 62 tried to pull away but his teacher's grip would not break.

  "Trust me." 71 didn't explain further.

  62 fought 71's tight grip the entire way to where the bed and tables stood. He shouted randomly at the empty room and cried tears of rage. He thrashed about wildly and his eyes were so swollen with tears that he didn't notice the Man seated amongst the equipment.

  “Brother!” The Man stood up and reached out to embrace 71. The motion was stopped midair when he noticed 62. “You never do just stop by to say hello, do you? Always a problem or project to work on.”

  71 nodded, and pointed with his off-hand to 62 who was still pulling against his grip with all his might. “We need some help, and I’m afraid we don’t have much time. This isn’t exactly a scheduled visit for our young brother, here.”

  “I see, I see. Well, what exactly is the matter, then?” The Man kneeled down and peered at 62's writhing figure.

  “He needs help from a doctor who knows what he’s doing.”

  “No I don’t!” 62 shrieked and pulled hard on 71’s hand. He could feel his wrist slipping. He changed directions and pulled again; the grip broke and 62 was suddenly free. He misjudged his footing and landed hard on the floor. The wind was knocked from his chest and in the moment that it took him to get back to his feet, the new doctor had grabbed hold of his ankle.

  “Our young friend here has been to see a doctor once already, I take it?” The doctor pushed the tails of his white lab coat back behind him and picked 62 up. He carried 62 toward the bed, being careful to make sure he avoided contact with the kicks and punches that assailed him. His beard was much shorter than 71's, and he lifted his chin in an attempt to keep the closely groomed bristles out of 62's grasp.

  “Yes, we just came from level 2.” 71 helped the doctor get 62 to sit up on the bed. Once the Boy was in place, 71 bent down to hold his feet to keep them from kicking any of the nearby instruments.

  “Level 2?” The Man looked with great concern at 62. “Not many come back from there." 71's doctor turned his face toward 62. "I’m sorry that you had to endure whatever trials led you there, little one. I am very sincere when I tell you that I am glad to see you made it out intact, and if I were you I’d never want to see another doctor again either.”

  The sad expression and quiet sympathy caught 62’s attention and he stopped flailing. He looked at the new doctor, and then at 71. Both Men looked worried. The moment he stopped struggling both Men let go of his limbs.

  “Do you put electricity in brains?” 62 looked around at the tables and didn’t see any boxes with dials and wires.

  “No, I certainly do not. I’ve seen it done once, when I was in the introductory Defensive Medical program. Lucky for me, I didn’t have the stomach for it so they assigned me to Biomedical Connectivity Repair. Much less screaming and fewer broken bones involved.” The doctor moved around as he spoke and began picking up a few small items, placing them on a hover tray that followed close behind him.

  “What is Biomumical Connductor Repair?” 62 followed the doctor with his eyes and paid close attention to each tool on the tray.<
br />
  “Biomedical Connectivity Repair,” 71 corrected. “When you are animated, a sensor is deposited into the lining of your stomach. Then, a tiny microchip is implanted under the skin in your neck to record and transmit your vital biological data to the sensors in your cube. Whenever there is a break in that communication, either because of damage or malfunction, the affected are brought here to have the break repaired.”

  The doctor added in, “Although admittedly, I don’t see many patients. The ingestible event markers and radio frequency identification chips are practically indestructible. It leaves me with a lot of time on my hands.”

  71 chuckled, as the doctor winked at him. His tray full, the doctor pulled a hover chair over to the bed and sat down. The tray, now holding several small devices, came to a rest at the head of the bed.

  “So, who are you?” 62 asked while he leered at the items on the tray. There was a small box that looked like a scanner, a small shiny tool with a very sharp tip, a band of twisted wire with two small panes of glass inserted into it, and a container with dozens of tiny black Machines that almost resembled the Tapinoma Sessile from 62’s dreams.

  “Oh, silly me. Always missing introductions. I am 2442, and I bid thee welcome to my lab.” The doctor lowered his chin to his chest and extended his right arm out toward 62.

  “The doctor with a flair for the dramatic.” 71 rolled his eyes.

  “True, true.” 42 agreed and then winked. “But I’m also the doctor with the cure for what ails you.”

  42 picked up the wire with glass and put the contraption on his face. The ends of the wire wrapped around his ears and the two glass panes rested perfectly in front of 42’s eyes. When the doctor noticed 62’s curious stare he said, “Optical magnification glasses. They help me to see things that are very small.”

  The Man peered over the lenses to look at the tray, then picked up the scanner and turned it on. It beeped and chirped in response. The doctor put the scanner against 62’s neck. He waved it slowly back and forth over the back of the neck, hovering just above the skin. The box chirped again.