The Adaline Series Bundle 1 Page 10

  The Boy’s face fell slightly, “You can't just imagine it?”

  “No, sadly, I can't. It was so long ago that much of what I read from it has faded from my memory. But I promise to teach you what I know, and help you to understand Adaline. I believe that the more you understand, the easier it will be for you to contain your anger.”

  The image of Adaline faded as the Man and Boy began to wake. 62 stared at Adaline intently, doing his best to memorize every block, every pane of glass and every inch of the old structure before it disappeared into the dark. The Man known as The Father reappeared behind the glass with a friendly smile and his arm outstretched. 62 smiled and waved back at the still figure, suddenly filled with a feeling of belonging that he had never felt before.

  CHAPTER 21

  “WHERE ARE WE?”

  The Boys sat again in the classroom gazing up at the bright projection of Adaline, The Father waving down at them from the upper right corner of the picture.

  71 turned his back on the Boys and stroked his beard as he considered the question. He exhaled a thin groan and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Sadly Boys, I’ve never seen a true map of Adaline. There have been estimations made by many Boys before you, but the truth is that we do not know the width and breadth of Adaline. This picture was produced when Adaline was first created, and the Community has grown significantly since then.” He turned back to the class, arms still crossed under the thickness of his beard.

  “Consider this. Adaline began with one Boy who was created during the very first animation ever completed. Now there are hundreds of thousands of us scattered across Adaline in a variety of ages, careers and functions.”

  62 and the rest of the class looked around the room at one another. 44, 88 and 18 each raised their hand.

  “18, what is your question?”

  “Where is the first Boy?” 18’s question had been the same one floating through the minds of his brothers. 44 and 88 both lowered their hands.

  “A wonderful question, indeed. It has been said that after 001 was animated, he became lonely.” Several hands shot up around the room and 71 realized his mistake. “Lonely is how you feel when you are apart from your brothers for an extended period of time. It is that feeling of sadness whenever you find yourself alone.”

  The hands attached to Boys wondering about loneliness dropped, and were replaced by the raised hand of 99. 71 nodded at the Boy and 99 asked, “001 was made alone?”

  71 frowned. “Yes. All alone. The first animation was not a clean and orderly process as it is now. 001 told his creator, our Father, that he was lonely. Together, they developed the process of mass animation so that batches of Boys could be developed and raised together. It is said that 001 expanded the bounds of Adaline far beyond what this picture could hold.”

  The teacher turned to consider the projection again, and the eyes of the Boys followed his gaze. “This image is merely a representation of where the Community began. There is no telling how vast Adaline has now become, but surely it is so large there is no way for any Man to see it all from one vantage point.”

  71 touched his hand to the tablet on his desk, and the picture of Adaline’s beginning vanished. A second later, it was replaced by a large room filled with lines of Boys sitting at desks and staring toward the camera with the same stoic gaze.

  “This is a photograph of boys 002 through 100. As they grew, these Boys divided themselves into several groups with similar abilities, wants and personalities. These groups fought amongst themselves, each trying to get more attention from Our Father and 001 than the other groups. Some of the Boys injured one another during the fights, and others stole the food pills and drink from the more passive brothers. It was brutal anarchy.”

  He touched the screen of his tablet again and the Boys vanished. Three pictures appeared on the screen. The first photograph showed a smaller number of Boys sitting at tables filled with various parts for Machines. Another showed Boys sitting around large tablets filled with blueprints and schematics. The final image depicted a group of Boys standing around the outskirts of an open room, wearing simple grey uniforms and standing at rigid attention.

  “Our Father, and his first creation 001, discovered that if they assigned each group of Boys a task then they would cease their fighting and become productive.

  "One group was incredibly intelligent, and they were tasked with educating their brothers, planning the expansion of Adaline and creating the Machines to raise and manage future Boys.

  “Another group was quite adept at building, maintaining and making theories functional. They were assigned a variety of careers that involved tedious labor and mechanics.

  “The final group, those who had previously preyed on their weaker brothers, were taught instead to protect them. They trained tirelessly in defense and combat, and used their strength to keep order.”

  71 touched the screen again and the projection disappeared, leaving the light grey steel of the wall behind it bare. “That is how we came to have three career paths.”

  The teacher took a few steps and touched the desk of Boy 01. “Education; for who are we if we know nothing?”

  He strode again and lightly tapped the desk of Boy 22. “Labor; the noble task of keeping the wheels of Adaline turning.”

  He moved to the back of the room and touched 99’s desk lightly, “And Defense; to keep order so that we might achieve great things.”

  The tone signaling the end of class rang in the Boys ears but none of them moved from their seats. All eyes were on the Man as they tried to glean from the twinkle in his eye and the twitch of his whiskers which of the three paths they might be assigned.

  62 sat perched on the edge of his hover chair with the same baited curiosity as the brother seated on either side of him. 71 did not look at him though, instead turning his back and walking through the open classroom door and down the hallway.

  CHAPTER 22

  AFTER A FITFUL NIGHT void of dreams, 62 entered the classroom once again. 71 didn't enter before the classroom bell rang, and when the door slid shut the Boys sat quietly with their hands folded in their laps. Although all of the students did their best to be good, after several minutes their faces began to twitch, and their bodies began to squirm in a silent display of boredom.

  62 wasn't any better at ignoring the urge to fidget than any of the others. Without thinking, he began a competition with 99 to see who could contort their face into the funniest expression. Several Boys around them giggled at their antics and soon the room was filled with the roar of twenty different voices talking out of turn.

  Several more Boys joined in the face-making game and 62 was too distracted to notice as 56 got up from his desk next to the door to press his hand against the cold metal sensor beside it. 62 was also too busy to hear his brother ask, “Does anyone know how to open the door?”

  75 and 52 also moved to the securely shut door. The two brothers placed their hands on the sensor that their teacher used to open the door but it did not respond. The three Boys huddled around the panel.

  62 was winning the face-making game, and it wasn’t until the wild laughter of the group dwindled that he noticed his audience beginning to swarm around the door. 99 stared blankly across the room when 62 realized just how many Boys now had their backs to him. Several of them were pushing their weight against the door panel, which didn’t move.

  “Let me try,” 99 shouted at the group. The Boys opened a path for their brother and he confidently walked to the sensor and pushed it. Although the action had the same lack of effect as each previous try, the group again emitted sounds of surprise and disappointment.

  62 and the other stragglers got up from their desks and mulled around the outside of the group. They stood on their tip-toes to try and see what was happening. It was difficult to see beyond the bobbing heads and flailing arms, but it was obvious that whatever 62’s brothers were trying was not working.

  “What’s happening in the tunnel?” 62’s v
oice blended in with the dozen other voices chattering nervously. When it was obvious no one had heard him, he shouted, “Hey! Be quiet!”

  The two Boys in front of 62 turned around. 12 glared at him. “What are you shouting about?”

  62 backed away from the group and waved at 12 and 44 to follow him. They hesitated but eventually broke away from the swarm and joined him a few paces away from the noise.

  “Help me get them to stop talking. If we’re quiet, maybe we can hear if something is going on out in the tunnel.”

  The two Boys nodded and then the three of them joined together in shouting, “Hey! Be quiet!” They rushed the group, elbowing the noisiest Boys and repeating their request. Soon the hiss of shushes and the sharp cries of Boys being elbowed in the ribs faded into quietness.

  “Who is standing next to the door?” 62 was up on the tips of his toes again trying to distinguish one identical head from another.

  “99 and 25 are closest,” someone said.

  62 gave up standing on his toes and pulled a hover chair over to stand on. From his improved vantage point he said, “Can you hear what’s happening in the tunnel?”

  Both 99 and 25 pressed their ears against the door. The other Boys also leaned forward and strained their ears to listen.

  “I don’t hear anything.” 99 turned to look up at 62 just as the room went dark and all of the hover chairs collapsed onto the floor.

  The room exploded in a roar of surprise and cries of pain as Boys stumbled over each other. The group fanned out blindly, and 62 felt the heavy fall of feet as several disoriented Boys grazed his body splayed out on the floor.

  “Ow! Stop moving!” 62 shouted through the darkness when someone fell over him. “Stay where you are! Stop!”

  The crash of Boys bumping into desks, fallen hover chairs and each other faded.

  “No one move,” 62 demanded. He pushed himself up from the floor and gingerly sat up. “Does anyone know what happened?”

  “It got dark,” someone said. The smart remark was followed by several giggles.

  “Does anyone know how to turn on the lights?” 62 barked in irritation. His question was answered by silence as his brothers shook their heads in the dark.

  “I have an idea,” someone said.

  Another disembodied voice asked, “Who are you?”

  “I’m 88. Remember that time the teacher shut off all the hover chairs in class? I think he did it on his tablet.”

  “Who is closest to the teacher’s desk?”

  “Me,” several voices responded. The clunking sound of bodies bumping into walls and furniture sounded.

  62 sighed. “Everyone stay put.” He reached his arm out toward the direction the desk should be in. His fingers felt the edge of someone’s tunic and he pulled on it. “Who am I touching?”

  “I’m 94,” the invisible tunic replied.

  “94, get up and go to the teacher’s desk. It should be just a few steps from where you are.” Bumps and shuffles sounded all around the room. “Only 94. Everyone else stay put.”

  All the Boys stopped moving, except for 94 whose feet could be heard sliding across the floor. 94 apologized to each Boy he bumped into or stepped on, and even apologized to the desk when he ran into it with his thigh. The sounds of skin sliding against metal indicated that 94 was searching the desk for the tablet. It fell to the floor with a crack.

  “Ow!” 94’s shout surprised his brothers.

  A few Boys asked in unison, “What happened?”

  “I hit my head on the desk,” 94 answered with a whimper. Muffled giggles around the room masked his movement as he searched the floor for the fallen tablet. When his fingers grazed the screen's edge it turned on, shining brightly. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust before he was able to scroll through the commands. He tapped a button on the screen and the lights flickered to life; the chairs and desks resumed their hovering and floated back to their programmed places.

  The brothers, scattered in uncomfortable poses throughout the room, shielded their eyes against the harsh lights. The tunnel door swung open and 71 appeared.

  “Well done,” the teacher applauded. “And with time to spare before the end of the session, too. I dare say that I’m impressed. Most classes don’t figure that one out on the first try.”

  CHAPTER 23

  62 CLOSED HIS EYES. The test of the day, a giant puzzle missing three pieces that no one in class had been able to find, left him too exhausted to worry about trying to guide his dreams. He fell into the darkness with reckless abandon, his body fluttering with the dreamy sensation.

  The falling feeling slowed until 62 felt like he was gliding through the air. Still surrounded by darkness, he banked casually to his left on a breeze in his mind. The dream, open and void of any landscape, filled him with a sense of easy freedom. No walls appeared to contain him; no ceiling or floor to restrict his flight.

  His mind wandered and gradually the darkness illuminated into a bright cyan blue; the color of circuits and cables. He smiled with the change and thought for a moment about the intricate network that hid behind every panel in C.A.T. Suddenly, the vast space became littered with giant circuit boards, electrical sparks and hydraulic lines larger than he’d ever seen in real life. He dodged below a low-hanging knot of cables and felt the pliable sheath of the lowest cable brush against his scalp. An outcrop of desks appeared on the horizon, and he rushed toward them. He decided to explore on foot, so he flew in several circles until he found a suitable place to land; then dropped with a hard “thud” on the mountain of furniture.

  62 twisted his face in concentration and a portion of the metal desks transformed to soft Terra. He watched as Poa Pratensis sprouted out of the brown mound, quickly coating it in a lush green carpet. He beamed at the change, and silently congratulated himself for finally being able to duplicate a heaping mound of Poa Pratensis all on his own.

  He lay down flat on the ground and continued to push the Poa Pratensis with his mind. It grew until it waved in the breeze high above him. The weight of the thick greenery caused the blades to bend over in clumps around him. Soon he peered out of a canopy of the long slender material.

  62’s face scrunched as he focused on a point far away, and then his eyes opened wide in amazement. A group of cables burst open in cascading showers of sparks, the electricity blooming out of its cables in a quiet explosion of white light. He concentrated again and the explosions became measured and rhythmic. The sparks danced across his imagination in time to the beating of his heart.

  “Impressive.”

  62 bolted upright in shock at the voice. Through the thick fingers of Poa Pratensis, he saw a Man lying on the ground not far away. This Man was unfamiliar. He had the same aged appearance as 71, but his beard was short and his eyes did not twinkle with kindness.

  “Wh-who are you?”

  The Man rolled onto his side and wiped a broken blade of Poa Pratensis from his tunic. He sighed. “Does it really matter? In the end we are the same cog in the same giant wheel. Always turning but never changing, each generation following the footsteps of the one before without deviation.”

  62 ducked back into the protection of the bushy growth surrounding him. He held his breath, hoping that the Man was just a part of his dream and that he'd disappear if he thought hard enough about something else.

  Before 62 could refocus though, the long blades that shielded him began to shorten. Inch by inch they disappeared, receding back into the Terra and exposing the stranger again.

  “Oh, please don’t bother trying to hide. My mind is much more powerful than yours and I’d rather not have to go on some wild imaginative chase through your silly dream.” The Man got up from where he lay, smoothed his tunic until every crease was straight, and then tapped his foot against the mountain of desks. Immediately, the entire scene vanished and was replaced by a small red room with a single naked light bulb dangling from the ceiling. The swinging light cast odd shadows about the room making the Man’s appearanc
e shift unnaturally.

  62 got up from the floor. As he stood, his body was forced down by invisible hands into a simple black hover chair. The chair dragged itself a few feet toward the center of the room, and 62 found himself seated directly below the bare bulb.

  “What is this place?” 62 uttered finally.

  “This is my room. I call it the Hall of Questions. Delightful, isn’t it?” The Man snapped his slender fingers together and a high-backed hover chair appeared in the corner of the room. The Man eased into it, and then rubbed the palms of his hands together. When he opened them again, a small tablet appeared. He began reading it silently.

  “The Hall of Questions?” 62 fidgeted in his seat.

  “Yes. Mine though, not yours.” The stranger’s hand glided across the tablet and he paused for a moment, something on the screen catching his interest. “So the question really is, who are you?”

  “I am Boy 1124562. I am currently assigned to the Career Aptitude Testing Compound and am awaiting my career assignment.” 62 spoke his response obediently and mechanically, as he had been trained to do from the time he was able to talk.

  “Really. Well that’s certainly interesting.” The Man reclined farther into his seat, the edges of the chair casting shadows across his face so that 62 could no longer read his expression. “And how long have you been able to dream?”

  Although he'd been taught to always respond truthfully and completely to any question posed to him, something about this stranger made 62 feel uneasy. He thought back for a moment to the conversation he had with 71 early in their tutoring when the teacher had warned him to be wary of others knowing about his ability.

  “This is my first time, Sir. I think. Is this a dream?”