The Adaline Series Bundle 1 Read online

  The class of cloned Boys looked skeptically at their teacher. As if on cue to suspend their eager curiosity, the tones for the end of class rang out. Several of the Boys burst out of their seats and rushed the door. The rest remained behind, slowly shutting off their tablets and putting them away neatly.

  “A shining example!” 71 shouted above the din. “Notice how each one of you moves at your own pace. Some are fast, some are slow, even though you all eventually get to where you're going. Observe how you move! Ah, 75, see how you bumped into the desk there? Oh, and dropped your tablet? Fantastic!”

  62 shook his head, amused by the teacher's commentary. He joined his brothers as they poured out into the hallway, lost in thought as the crowd pushed him back toward his cube.

  CHAPTER 2

  “CHOBHAM.”

  62 was flying through the air when the passcode entered his dream. 71's voice rang in his ears, amplified by his imagination. 62 drifted down to a lush green knoll. Long trailing fingers of poa pratensis tickled his bare feet. He concentrated on the pinhole of light on the far edge of his consciousness and pulled it toward him. The shining speck grew until it was the size of a door. 62 smiled as the familiar face of his teacher shone through.

  “Hello.” 62 snapped his fingers and two hover chairs drifted into existence.

  “Mind if I join you?” 71 hesitated for a moment before pushing through the glowing doorway. The light faltered when 71 was halfway through. The Man gasped and pushed with all his might against the tension of 62's consciousness, almost falling over in the process.

  62 reached out to steady the Man. “Are you okay?”

  71 gave a curt nod. “It's just never been the same since the accident. I question the connection every time. Even though I know you'll let me in, I'm still afraid that the dream is going to sever.”

  Both Man and Boy glanced at 71's arm, remembering the angry gash that once broke his pale skin. During C.A.T's lockdown, 71 had tried to share a dream with the wrong person. The Man had severed his dream's connection so quickly that his consciousness lacerated his forearm. The injury was repaired by Nurses long ago, but a deep scar that couldn't be mended remained in 71's mind.

  “It's good to see you.” 62 sat in his hover chair and gazed off into the distance. There was not a Machine in sight.

  “I'm sorry my visits are so infrequent.” 71 tugged the sleeve of his tunic down to his wrist, covering the scar that was no longer there. A silence hung in the air for a few awkward moments.

  “What's it like?” 62 asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  71 looked up from his arm. “What's what like?”

  “The Training and Skills Kinesiology center.” 62 put his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in the palms of his hands. “I know we talked about it in class, but what's it really like?”

  71 rolled his eyes. “So you are looking forward to going, after all?”

  62 tried to wipe the dreamy excitement from his face. He forced a frown. “Of course not. I mean, you're not going to be there and that'll make it awful.”

  “It's okay to be excited. I think it looks something like this.” 71 closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment. The blue ceiling high above them began to fade, and walls appeared on the horizon. The whole area around them shrank.

  62 found himself seated at a desk nearly identical to the one he sat in each day. The room was slightly larger than his classroom though, with two lines of Men standing along opposing walls. A Boy who looked a bit older than 62 stood at the front of the class.

  “Welcome to the Career Aptitude something something.” The Boy waved his hand dismissively. It was the same action that 71 had done in class a thousand times. “Today we are going to discuss why you have to do these tests. Basically, there are no right answers so just go ahead and do whatever you want. The Machines will sort it out later.”

  The Boy crossed his arms and lifted his chin, exactly the way 71 always did. 62 looked sideways at 71 and grinned. “Is that you?”

  “No talking in class!” the Boy directing the lecture and 71 shouted in unison. 62 laughed.

  “Seriously, where are your manners?” 71 grunted and folded his arms. He lifted his chin, untucking his beard. He pretended to be annoyed for a minute, but then a smile crept along the folds of his face. “I'm wrong, this memory isn't from T.A.S.K. It's from after, when I began my education training. This was my first test class.”

  “You were exactly the same then. Look at how you moved around!” 62 squealed with laughter, almost losing his balance on the edge of his hover chair.

  “Yes, yes. I started lifting my chin when I was trying to make a point because I thought it made me look important. The beard came later.” 71 winked and then burst into laughter himself. The classroom dissolved around them.

  By the time 62 wiped the tears from his eyes and squelched his last giggle, the crowded room was gone. “So the Training and Skills Kinesiology center. Do you remember that?”

  71 lay back in his hover chair. “Well, I don't know. I went to T.A.S.K. thousands of cycles ago. Who knows how they have it set up now? I just remember a lot of sweating. Then I was pushed into Education, and the sweating stopped.”

  “I wish I knew what I was going to be.” 62 imagined a book and a writing device. They fell into his lap and he began drawing a picture of the memory 71 had just dreamed. He chuckled while he sketched the Boy and Man together, so alike in character although they were so different in age.

  “I do too.” 71 nodded. “But no matter where you end up being assigned, I know you'll do well. You have a problem that not many Boys have. You've tested high in every category. I wouldn't be surprised if you are assigned a teaching position even higher than mine. Or maybe become a ranked leader in Defense.”

  62 looked up from his sketch and smiled. “You really think so?”

  71 propped himself up slightly. “I do. Now, make sure that you don't stop that drawing until you've captured the essence of me. Although we may still be able to share dreams from time to time after you've gone, I want to make sure that you have something to remember me by if you get lonely.”

  CHAPTER 3

  62 DUCKED UNDER THE threshold of his cube at C.A.T. for the last time. He stood in front of the open door as he waited for dismissal from the pod. Every night, he'd watched the reader board above his neighbor across the hall count each cycle as it passed. Now he stood face to face with Boy 1126856.

  62 had never paid much attention to 56 before. All this time, the scrolling data above his door had been the most interesting thing about him. 62 looked into 56's deep brown eyes and smiled. 56 returned the gaze, but his eyes were vacant and he didn't smile back.

  “Boys 1124562 and 1126856.” A Nurse blocked the Boys' uncomfortable staring match. “This concludes your stay at the Career Aptitude Testing Compound. Please follow the flashing lights to your assigned transport unit. Thank you for your co-operation.”

  Both Boys stood still until the Nurse had moved on to the next pair of cubes. Once it began speaking to the next set of Boys to 62's left, he rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. “Well, I'm glad that's over with.”

  56 didn't move.

  62 took a step forward and leaned in to his neighbor. “Brother, the Nurse said we can go now. You don't have to stay still anymore.”

  The Boy blinked, as if just realizing where he was. He turned his head to look at the Nurse clicking down the hallway. The pair of Boys it had just released passed by, following lights that blinked along the floor ahead of them. 56 snapped his attention forward again.

  “Hey, are you okay?” 62 stepped across the hall and touched 56's hand. The Boy's palm was wet with sweat.

  “I can't go.” The words were barely a whisper as they escaped 56's unmoving lips.

  “Sure you can. Look. There's a light blinking at your feet. When you start walking, it'll light the way. Watch.” 62 looked down at the blue dot blinking just in front of his own feet. He moved toward it a step
and the dot rushed to the right in a line that extended just beyond the distance a full stride would take. When he didn't move farther, the dot returned to him. Impatient pulses illuminated the floor at his feet. He knew that when he followed it, it would continue to lead him one pace at a time until he reached the transport platform.

  “No.” 56 closed his eyes tight, but otherwise still refused to move.

  “Why not?”

  “They're going to make me work as a laborer. I won't do it.” 56 opened eyes that glistened with tears. “I won't be a duster my whole life. I can't.”

  Another set of Boys passed by and 62 looked past them to the Nurse. It had stopped moving and was looking back at him. The lights in its eyes flashed yellow and 62 knew it was only a matter of time before it calculated that he and 56 were disobeying.

  “You have to.” 62 tightened his grip on 56's slick fingers and pulled him forward a step. 56's light zipped ahead of them in the same direction that 62's had a moment before.

  “I won't do it!” 56 shouted and pulled back hard.

  “Yes, you will. If you don't, that Nurse is going to come over here and fog you. And then what? Maybe you'll be pushed back into your cube for another thousand days at C.A.T. Maybe they'll just put you on that transport and you'll wake up at T.A.S.K. Or maybe they'll take you somewhere worse and we'll never see you again.”

  56 glanced at the Nurse. It was moving toward them now. Its eyes flashed quickly from blue to yellow and back again. Both Boys knew it was measuring the amount of time they'd been standing in defiance of its directions. The danger seemed to register with 56 and he sprinted away from his cube. The glowing blue light flashed ahead of him. 62 was relieved when 56 reached the end of the corridor and turned the corner in the same direction of the speeding light.

  A cold synthetic hand rested on 62's shoulder. He could feel the pulse of electrodes as it began to scan him. Although his insides squirmed from the discomfort of the thing, he stood still. He turned to look at the flashing mechanical eyes and mirrored the Nurse's lax expression.

  “Boy 1124562, do you require assistance?” The opening sleep fog port on the Nurse's chest was imperceptible except for a tiny click of metal.

  “No, thank you, Nurse.” 62 took a step away from the Machine. “I was just making sure 56 knew how the lights worked. He figured it out, so I'm going now.”

  “Good Boys follow directions, 1124562.”

  “Yes, they do.” With a quick nod toward the Machine, 62 turned and took another stride in the direction 56 had run. He stared down at the light blinking on the floor, vowing to not take his eyes off of it until it stopped.

  CHAPTER 4

  62 WAITED IN LINE FOR his transport unit. The queue would have seemed normal had it not been for the unsettling silence on the platform.

  During their time in C.A.T., the Boys had lots of practice standing in line. It was how they started their day; waiting in lines that stretched hundreds of heads deep as they waited for their turn to shower, change clothes, and exit the great Dressing Hall. The Boys didn't have to be silent during their morning routine, although it was always in their best interest to not make too much of a ruckus. After all, good Boys were not disruptive. But now, standing in short lines on the platform, the silence was jarring.

  One of the Boys three rows over coughed. The sound echoed across the blank concrete walls and steel beams that surrounded them. 62 and the rest of his brothers were so nervous that no one moved to look at the offending Boy. A second later, the harsh rasp ceased and the silence returned.

  62 closed his eyes and focused on his hearing, willing the sound of the transport unit to come creaking along the metal rails just beyond the edge of the platform. He heard nothing, but with his eyes closed he could see the outline of the massive cylindrical vehicle in his imagination. He only remembered riding the transport system once before. When his group was transferred from the Nursery they had taken the lengthy, windowless ride through Adaline until they reached C.A.T. On that trip, the Boys had been strapped into tiny chairs bolted in rows to the floor. When 62 breathed deep he could feel his chest and shoulders widen. They'd all grown so much. If this transport unit had the same small seats, he doubted he'd be able to fit into them.

  When the transport's high-pitched squeal did reach 62's ears, he thought it was another part of his imagination. It wasn't until he felt the rumble of the vehicle through the floor that he knew it was real. He opened his eyes and turned to watch the hulking metal doors in the wall nudge open. The resulting crack was pitch black. A squeal of wheels and hissing of pistons began as a far off whimper but quickly filled the platform with a thundering roar. A light slithered through the crack in the double doors. The Transportation Aide standing on the far edge of the platform pushed a series of buttons on a panel in the wall, instructing the doors to separate until they were open wide like a gaping mouth.

  The transport unit slowed to a crawl as it passed through the open doors. 62 gasped in awe of the thing as it inched steadily forward on its rails. He worried that his gasp would be noticed by those standing around him, but the hissing steam and grinding gears blotted out any other sound in the room. Each of the Boys standing on the platform could have shouted at the top of their lungs, and no one would have heard them.

  The chug-chug of the enormous engine slowed like a dying heartbeat until the transport came to a full stop. A great hiss escaped as steam jetted out from below its chassis. The clouds of steam pushed up and over the edge of the platform like wriggling fingers and the bulky transport unit seemed to settle with a great sigh. Of all the Machines 62 had ever seen, this one was his favorite. His chest fluttered with excitement as the doors slid open perfectly even with the spaces marked on the platform for entry. The Nurse assigned to 62's group moved toward the doorway ahead of them and gestured for the first Boy in line to come forward. 62 moved toward the gray cylinder one halting step at a time. His eyes panned the dull, flat exterior until he found the bright white letters that read, “T.A.S.K. RAIL.”

  When he reached the door, the Nurse placed one hand on his chest to stop him, and the other on the back of his neck to scan his chip. A moment later, the Nurse pulled away. “Boy 1124562, please take your assigned seat.”

  62 nodded and stepped through the doorway. The interior was bright and gleaming. Whereas the exterior of the beast was being constantly bombarded with debris from the tunnels, the inside had been meticulously cleaned. 62 blinked hard against the glare of the white light bouncing off of polished steel. It took a minute, but his eyes adjusted and he looked down the many rows of seats with a smile. The seats were a lot bigger than the ones he remembered from last time. Above each row was a list of the Boys assigned to the seats below. 62 found his number, scooted into the middle seat, and buckled his harness.

  Boy after Boy entered the transport until every seat was filled. 62 nodded at his former C.A.T. classmates whenever they passed by his row, but otherwise the Boys remained stoic. Transport Aides paced through the aisles, checking for errors. Once satisfied that everyone was secure in their seats, they closed the doors.

  62 looked at the Boys seated on either side of him as the lights above them flickered. Both brothers shared a look of anxious panic as the transport unit lurched forward. A great chug sounded in unison with the jolting of their car. Then a second, and a third, and soon the beat of the engine was pounding in a rhythm that was fluid and measured. The lights sputtered above the Boys one more time, and then the whole vehicle went dark.

  62 closed his eyes against the darkness. He relaxed back into his seat until he could feel the transport's rumble deep in his bones. The passenger car swayed from side to side, and soon the rhythmic pulse of wheels against rails lulled him to sleep.

  CHAPTER 5

  62 STEPPED OFF OF THE transport unit and onto the T.A.S.K. platform. Everything looked virtually the same as it had at C.A.T. except that instead of Nurses lining the edges of the platform, a new type of sleek white Machines stood in their
place.

  “Welcome to T.A.S.K. Please move to your assigned pod.” The order repeated itself in a static-filled voice from overhead speakers every few seconds.

  62 followed the groggy flow of Boys in front of him. He hadn't been the only one made sleepy by the darkness of transport. Although it wasn't yet clear where he was heading, he trusted the river of bodies to guide him in the right direction. As he marched forward, 62 looked up. The high ceilings were simple cement, just as they'd been at C.A.T. And like C.A.T., every inch of them was spotless. The Laborers and Machines in charge of maintaining the facilities were so consistent that nothing ever looked aged. Although this may have been the same platform 71 had crossed as a Boy, the whole platform looked as new to T.A.S.K. as 62 felt.

  Hanging above the doors that led toward the new pods were a series of electronic displays with lists of numbers. 62 found the list with his number and broke apart from the group. A few dozen of his brothers joined him as he followed the directions down a side hallway. It didn't take long to reach the doorway that led to their new home.

  A Boy ahead of 62 pushed his hand to the panel to open the door. Each Boy released a sigh of relief when the door slid to reveal their pod for the first time. The aisles were roomier than at C.A.T. Cube doors were spaced farther apart, and were placed off-center from their neighbors across the walkway. No more would the light of his neighbor's data board stream directly through 62's window at night. None of the Boys could help but look into the windows of their brothers’ new cubes as they passed by those that had already settled in.