The Adaline Series Bundle 1 Read online

  CHAPTER 18

  THE DISPLAY AT THE front of the classroom hadn’t been used since testing ended. 62 was surprised to see the wall behind the teacher’s desk glowing when he entered. He took his seat and folded his hands neatly on his desktop as he waited for class to begin.

  The stark blank wall cast a strange white illumination across the faces of the Boys. It made their soft, pale skin appear waxy and synthetic. Looking at the faces across the room from him, 62 once again found that the blank stare of his brothers resembled the Machines. He pushed the unsettling comparison aside.

  71 entered as the tones rang with his usual flourish and danced across the room with a smile. He picked up his tablet and with a wave of his hand across the screen pushed an image of a large structure onto the wall.

  “Can anyone tell me what this is?” 71 looked around the room with a mischievous grin, knowing none of the Boys in the room could possibly know the answer.

  When none of the hands in the room raised in response to the question, the teacher walked across the room to where Boy 56 sat. Placing both hands on the Boy’s desk, the Man leaned forward and eyed him in mock seriousness. “56, what do you think the image on the wall might be?”

  56 looked into the teacher’s deep brown eyes, and then up to the wall where the structure shone in black and white. “It looks like... it might be... a box? Something to store parts in?”

  Several Boys nodded in agreement and mumbled to one another that they had seen Men carry boxes full of parts and tools when they came to fix malfunctioning Machines.

  “No, not a box.” 71 shook his head. He pushed away from the desk and stalked across the room. “What do you think, 24? What could that be?”

  The particularly quiet Boy gazed up at the picture and noted the small squares that looked like glass partitions dotted across the structure. “It looks like it has lots of eyes. Is it a Machine?”

  Two or three of the Boys looked at the scattered bits of glass and agreed, they did look like dozens of eyes.

  “Not a Machine.” The teacher moved over to stand in front of 98. “And what do you think, my clever little brother?”

  “Not a box, not a Machine. Hmm.” 98 pressed his chin down against his balled-up fist in deep thought. Suddenly his face came alight and he blurted, “It’s flat on top like you could put something on it. Is it a desk?”

  71 chuckled and shook his head, the whiskers of his beard wagging against the Boy’s desk before he stood upright again. “It's not a desk.” The teacher pointed towards 99. “What do you say it is?”

  99 was already squinting hard, his face scrunched in concentration. “It has some kind of sign, but I can’t see what it says. Is it... a cube?”

  The teacher turned, his hands flung high in the air as he shouted, “NOT a cube!” Then he smiled and winked as he said, “But closer. Good thinking.”

  62 hoped one of the other Boys in the room would get the answer right. He'd only just gotten rid of his imagination, and now he was considering a question that begged for it. He felt a grip of panic seize his stomach as 71 turned to him.

  “Surely, you can conclude what this is?” 71 waved his hand over his head, gesturing at the wall behind him.

  62 tried not to look at the picture. Instead he stared blankly at the Man for a moment, wishing that 71 were standing a bit closer so that his wide tunic would block out more of the image. Although he did his best to focus on the long beard and smiling face of his teacher, he couldn’t help but notice the looming picture spread across the wall behind him.

  56 had been right, it did look like a large box. And although he’d never seen a Machine with more than two eyes before, 24’s observation of the glass panels did make it look somewhat like it had openings of some kind. It looked a bit like a desk, but it also looked solid and 62 couldn’t figure where someone would put his legs if he sat behind it. Besides, the sign that 99 noticed was so small. Whatever it was, it looked like it had to be very large in size.

  62 blinked, realizing that he was thinking about the image and not just focusing on the tight crease of his teacher’s lips as they curled into a smile. Rather than think about the picture anymore, 62 pushed it from his mind and answered, “I don’t know.”

  71’s smile flattened, and he blinked in astonishment. “Are you sure?”

  62 made a show of leaning over to look around the Man towards the wall, but focused on the desk at the front of the class instead. He paused, then sat back in his chair and folded his hands on his desk. “Yup. I don’t know.”

  “You won’t even take a guess like the others? Surely there is something you notice that no one else has?”

  62 shook his head and felt both relief that he’d kept his thoughts under control, and shame for disappointing his teacher.

  71 frowned, but the scowl vanished as quickly as it came. He spun around on his heel and walked back to the front of the class where he pointed at the picture. “This, my brothers, is Adaline.”

  Gasps echoed throughout the room, and all of the Boys leaned forward in their desks to get a better look. Even 62 couldn’t help but turn all of his attention to the image filling the wall.

  71 clapped his hands. He turned to bask in the glow of the black and white photo as if he were also a young Boy viewing it for the first time. “Exciting isn’t it? This is where we are animated, where we toil away at our duties to the Community, and where we eventually perish.”

  The room became silent as each Boy viewed his world for the first time. 62 noticed that Adaline looked to be made up of thousands, or maybe hundreds of thousands, of blocks each the same length, width and height. The rows of blocks were only broken periodically by glass partitions, and he could almost make out the image of a Man standing behind one of them. The Man held his hand in the air as if he were ready to answer all of the questions running through the minds of every Boy in all of C.A.T.

  Two large doors blended in with the front of the structure and once he noticed their faint outline 62 had to work very hard to not wonder where they might lead. To keep his imagination from working too hard he concluded that the doors probably led to the hallways, classrooms and pods that they saw every cycle. What he tried to not wonder was what was on the outside of the doors. It looked so open; with tiny blades of... was that Poa Pratensis on the floor?

  62 pushed back against his chair in astonishment, accidentally causing it to ram hard against the wall behind him. The noise of his collision was enough to pull the attention of the Boys around him away from the photo but 62 didn’t notice their stares. Instead, he looked to his teacher.

  71 smiled, nodded, and winked.

  CHAPTER 19

  IT WAS ALL 62 COULD do to keep from charging through the mass of Boys ahead of him to get back to his cube. He could hold himself back for a few steps, but the excitement in him couldn’t help but force his feet to bound forward every now and again.

  “Excuse me,” he chimed each time he bumped his elbow into a Boy to his left or right. Every time he clipped the heels of the Boy walking ahead of him he stammered, “Oops, sorry!”

  The Boys surrounding him quickly got tired of being run into and began to move away from 62 as much as they could in the narrow tunnel. Each time a small opening between Boys would appear, 62 would leap forward into a new group and the chimes of “Excuse me” and “Oops!” began again.

  When he finally made it to his cube, 62 pushed past the Nurse standing outside the open door. He opened the food chute and swallowed his dinner pills without grabbing for a drink to wash it down. He choked as the dry pills caught in his throat but forced them down with a hard swallow as he pulled his blanket out and lay down on the floor.

  He did his best to will himself to sleep, even as his brothers were still filing in from their classes and leisurely readying themselves for rest. The slide and click of closing doors, the clatter of pills being pulled from their chutes and the rustle of hundreds of blankets drilled into 62 and he pressed his hands against his ears to sh
ut them out.

  When covering his ears didn't work 62 forgot his manners and shouted, “Quiet! I’m trying to sleep!” The other Boys were too busy in their own bedtime preparations to notice his demand, although a Nurse approached the door and peered in at him.

  “1124562, do you require assistance?”

  He looked up at the Machine, startled by the glowing eyes and embarrassed that he had called attention to himself. Propping himself up on his elbow so that he could see the Nurse better, he did his best to appear nonchalant.

  “Oh, no. Sorry about that. I was just...”

  “Yes?” The Nurse extended its reader into the cube data port.

  62 tried to calm his breathing so his readings would look normal. The Machine cocked its mechanical head as if to prompt him to continue with his explanation.

  “I was just getting ready for bed. I’m sorry for shouting.”

  The Nurse completed the download and its bright eyes dulled as it broke the data connection. “Can you be a good Boy?”

  “Yes!” 62’s reply was a little more excited than it should have been, but he hoped the Machine wouldn’t notice.

  “Do you require assistance?” The Machine repeated the question more as a matter of protocol than in true concern.

  “No, thank you, Nurse.” 62 lay down and pulled the blanket over his head. He tried to listen for the Nurse to glide away from the door, but the ruckus of his neighbors was so loud that he couldn’t make out the sound. After what felt like an eternity, he pulled the cloth away from his face and peered over the blanket’s edge at the door. A sigh of relief followed the realization that the Nurse had gone.

  Pleased with his aloneness, 62 once again closed his eyes, determined to go to sleep. The sounds of the other Boys in the pod faded slowly into silence as they each found their way beneath their own blankets.

  Because of 62's excitement, he tossed and turned. Every time he closed his eyes he could see the looming black and white picture of Adaline, as if it were printed on the inside of his eyelids. The Poa Pratensis was barely recognizable in its various shades of grey, although the long individual blades reaching towards the vast open ceiling of the photo gave it away.

  He turned over again, shutting his eyes tighter and his mind began to wander towards the image of the Man waving from behind one of the many glass openings. He seemed so small compared to the vast structure; barely recognizable as a Man at all. The Man leaned forward in the image, pressed against the glass like a shadow cast upon the wall. His hand was extended, but 62 couldn't tell if it was raised in greeting, or thrust out in warning.

  Now that 62 had seen a photograph of Adaline, he felt a sense of calm. It was like finding a piece to a puzzle that had been scattered through his mind. At the same time, it raised even more questions. He turned again, a little too roughly this time, and brushed against a sensor on the wall near his head.

  "Do you need assistance?"

  The cold voice startled 62 and he jumped in response. His eyes snapped open and he looked toward the door with hesitation. "No, Nurse. I'm fine, thank you."

  Without waiting for a response, 62 laid back down and pulled the blanket over his head. Although he hoped the Machine would be satisfied, its voice crept beneath the blanket.

  "Your data shows patterns that are elevated above normal for rest, and this is the second time a Nurse has been dispatched to your cube this cycle. Are you unwell?"

  The Boy groaned. "I am well, Nurse. I am ready to rest."

  "Perhaps I may assist you. Sleep is an important function; necessary for you to be a good Boy." There was a small hiss as the Machine's sleep-gas port opened and it leaned forward to dispense the fog into 62's cube.

  "No, thank you." 62 replied as calmly as he could, although his chest ached at the thought of breathing in the fog. "I am able to sleep on my own. I'll call you if I need help."

  The Nurse cocked its head in pre-programmed curiosity. "You will call for a Nurse if you require assistance?"

  62 leaned up on his elbow so that he could look into the eyes of the Nurse. He hadn't intended to be firm with the Nurse, but its response reminded him of the way 71 was able to instruct Machines. The Nurses and Aids all seemed to listen to the teacher's commands so 62 said forcefully, "Yes. Now leave me to my sleep, please. Your assistance is not needed."

  To his surprise the Nurse nodded and moved away from the door, vanishing into the dimly lit pod. 62 stayed there, propped on his elbow, staring out the window into the hall. He couldn't believe that he'd been able to dismiss the Nurse.

  After a while, his elbow began to ache as it pressed against the hard floor. 62 lay his head down flat again and rubbed the sore limb with his other hand. A feeling of power surged through him as he considered the ability to prevent the Nurse from disciplining him. He got a sudden urge to call it back and ask it to do something else to see what it would do. He was afraid of what might happen, and pressed his hand against his mouth to make sure he didn't utter a word.

  Under the pressure of his hand, he smiled to himself and closed his eyes. The image of Adaline shone again from beneath closed lids and 62 imagined that the Man behind the glass smiled, too.

  CHAPTER 20

  62 FELT HIMSELF FALLING into dark slumber. Once wholly asleep he realized that he was looking at Adaline from the same vantage point as the picture 71 had displayed to the class. The image was flat and grey in front of him and he turned to see if anything else had appeared.

  Steely grey Poa Pratensis sprung up between his toes, and expanded to the horizon in all directions. The never-ending ceiling of his dreams with 71 loomed high overhead, but its normal shocking blue color had been replaced by the silver hue of the picture. Aside from Adaline, there was nothing else on the landscape.

  Turning back to the giant structure, 62 remembered the Man waving out from the glass. He looked to the upper right glass opening and just as he hoped, a Man leaned against the clear pane with his hand extended in the air. The Man was smiling and as 62 watched, he unfroze from his photographic pose and pushed against the pane of glass until it swiveled open in front of him.

  “Hello there!” The Man leaned out from the opening and pressed his waist against the dull grey bricks. He shouted across the silent distance between them. “I’ve been expecting you. Stay put, now. I’ll be right down!”

  62 stood with his mouth agape as the flat, two-dimensional Man turned and vanished. He jumped with surprise when the screech of metal on metal announced the opening of the left side of the double door. The picture-Man jogged briskly toward him. As the stranger got closer, his edges rounded and his features became full. It was like watching hydraulic fluid fill a once empty bag, pushing the sides until they bulged and pressed against the seams. Once the Man inflated 62 recognized him as his teacher and the familiarity made at least one of the knots in his stomach unravel.

  “Welcome, my young brother. I was hoping you’d find your way. Isn’t this simply astonishing?” 71 slapped 62 on the shoulder before turning to face the picture.

  “I don’t know.” 62 looked at his teacher’s profile with amazement, “I guess astonishing is a good word. How did you do that?”

  “How did I do what?” 71 waved his hands in the air and created a large mound of green Poa Pratensis. The Man nodded when it reached the height and width he desired and then flung himself lightly upon it. The long soft blades bent beneath him and created a comfortable looking lounge chair.

  “How were you flat and then not?” 62 wiggled his fingers in front of him and tried to copy his teacher, but only succeeded in making a patch of Poa Pratensis the size of his fist. He touched his toes to it, and the clump wilted and shriveled into a brittle mess.

  71 pointed to the withered blades and they immediately sprung to life, shooting out long and green until they had spread high and wide enough to be used as a chair for the Boy.

  “It’s simple dream mechanics. You’ll get the hang of it. I was here, thinking about this old picture and wondered
what it would be like to take the Father’s place in it. He didn’t seem to mind the change. Besides, it worked so that I was here when you arrived.”

  “The Father?” 62 looked up to the now empty window.

  “Oh yes, I forget. The Father, more appropriately, Our Father. He is the one who created all of this.” 71 swept his hands in front of himself and gestured toward the vast grayness.

  62 frowned.

  “You don’t understand. It’s okay. It took me a long time to wrap my head around the concept. Our Father created Adaline so that we could live in it. Thrive in it. He gave us the Community and the Machines to guide us. And then, he created us from his own body. He gave us the gift of life, and made us brothers; identical in form and health.”

  62 pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers as he strained to understand. “So, this Man you call Our Father made Adaline, and made us?”

  “Yes. A tremendous gift that he gave us long ago; far before my time, with a Boy called 001.”

  “How do you know about The Father?”

  “I learned about him as a Boy the same way you are now. When I attended C.A.T. I had a teacher who discovered I could dream, and he brought me here so that I could get to know Father. He had an amazing book filled with wonderful things, like the brown Terra and green Poa Pratensis beneath our feet, the bright white Stratocumulus Cumulogenitus that float without power, and the blue Caelum far above us.” As 71 spoke, pockets of color began to creep out from beneath the grey shadows and spread across the landscape until everything around the flat grey structure of Adaline became saturated with vibrant browns, greens, blues and whites.

  62 leaned forwards, “A book? Like the one we read about being unwell?”

  71 shook his head and smiled, “Nothing like that. It was an amazing book filled with words that our Father himself had written long before he created us. My teacher called it ‘The Great Journal’. I was only able to read it for a short time before I was placed in training as a teacher, but what I remember of it was amazing.”