Solstice (14 page)

I turned to Matthews. “What’s the testing today?”

His hand stopped midmotion to his mouth. Then he proceeded to eat the bit of potato on his fork. I waited.

After chewing and swallowing, he said, “Today is the fear test.”

Something told me to shut up, but I continued. “What does that mean?”

Matthews took another bite of his food—he seemed to enjoy making me wait. “We’re going to find out what you’re afraid of.”

I didn’t ask any questions after that. I thought it might be better not to know. The food on my plate didn’t look so good anymore, and I set my fork down, signaling for the new boy to come and pick up my tray. I wondered what he did to get himself here.

When Dr. Matthews finished, I followed him out of the room. Two other scientists came with us, flanking me on each side, Matthews leading the way. I wondered why there had to be three of them.

We turned and walked the opposite direction from the dormitory and the other testing rooms I’d been in. I tried to pay attention to where we were going, how many doors we passed. We took a sharp right, then walked up the sloping hall. For once we weren’t going deeper.

I felt the change in the air before we reached the room. The pervasive cold had softened into warmth and moisture. Were we near the surface? My heart thrummed—maybe the test would take place outside. I may have missed the Solstice, but I’d welcome the rain with open arms.

Matthews stopped and waved his hand over the censor. The door slid open, and I peered into the shining cavern. Everything was bright white. The walls and the ceiling seemed to glow, and the floor was . . . water.

I gazed at the rippling turquoise water. It was beautiful—such rich colors of blue. Above ground, the puddles and the ponds were all as gray as the sky, and the ocean was dark and churning.

Squinting against the brightness, I stepped after Matthews onto a platform that circled the water around the perimeter of the room. Gently churning waves lapped against the sides. It was nothing like the raging swells of the ocean.

Matthews led us several steps in, and the door shut behind us. A strange sensation crept over me—a feeling of being trapped. I’d been living underground for a week, and had been locked alone in a cell twice, but this was something different.

I peered down, trying to guess how deep it was. There were obviously lights beneath the surface, yellow mixing with azure, but I couldn’t quite make out the bottom.

“Do you swim?” Matthews asked.

“No.” I didn’t know anyone who could swim—there was no place to learn. The ocean was too dangerous, and land area wasn’t wasted with the creation of swimming spaces. “Is this a swimming pool?”

“Not exactly.” Matthews said. We’d learned about swimming pools and the competitions that went as high as the world Olympics. But competition for physical excellence was no longer necessary. Our livelihoods weren’t determined by our physical prowess, but by our intellect and ability to follow the rules. Things like winning awards and boastful pride had no place in our society.

Matthews stepped behind me, and two other scientists joined us.

I was prepared for more questions, but instead, Matthews shoved me forward.

I plunged face first into the water, plummeting down until I was completely immersed. I opened my mouth to scream, but water rushed in, choking me. I closed my mouth, gagging on the water. My body turned and tumbled, sinking lower as I tried to right myself toward the surface. I opened my eyes but everything blurred around me.

It felt as if my arms had been weighted down, slowing my reflexes. The water closed in on any oxygen I might have stored in the seconds before falling. Every part of my body cried out to take a breath, but knew instinctively to keep the water out of my lungs.

I focused on the surface and started kicking and clawing my way upward. Why weren’t they pulling me out? Or was this the end? Matthews knew I couldn’t swim. My head and chest felt like they were about to burst. The silent water seemed to work against my movements, keeping everything in slow motion.

My arms moved in wider circles, as if by their own will, and I shot up faster than I anticipated. I broke the surface, gagging and gasping for air, then started to sink again. Just as my head dipped below the water, I kicked my feet and thrashed my arms. I couldn’t go down again.

The three men stood on the deck quietly watching me.

“Help me!” I screamed. None of them moved.

I sank beneath the water again despite my best efforts. If I’d been scared before, I was terrified now. There was only so long I could keep this up—the cold water was making my muscles numb. I clawed to the surface again, spitting and crying. This time I pushed against the surface of the water, shoving great scoops behind me, moving gradually to the closest side of the room, to the feet of the three stoic scientists.

Beneath the water again. The sounds of my own screams were cut off, and the vision of the men was blurry. I fought my way to the surface, only to inhale more air, and only to sink again and swallow more water. Under, above, under, above.

It seemed like an entire lifetime passed before I touched the deck, gripping it with my cold and trembling fingers. I screamed, and then my vision faded to red and black. I felt my grip loosen and knew I didn’t have the energy to stay above the surface. Just as my last finger slipped, a strong hand clamped around my wrist.

“You tried to drown me!” I yelled, my throat burning with bile.

I knew I was out of my mind with rage, but there was no stopping it now. I wanted them to alter me, here and now. Make me forget.

I stood shaking before the scientists, dripping wet and freezing. My clothing clung to my body and my hair hung in my eyes.

“How can you do this to people?” I tried to shout, but it turned into coughing and then gagging. I fell to my knees and retched.

The scientists simply moved back.

I took several deep breaths, waiting for my stomach to stop clenching. They continued to study me, typing into their tablets. Their tests no longer mattered to me. Had I passed the test by not drowning? Or was it like the ancient Salem witch trials where the women were proved innocent only if they did drown?

The door was still shut, but I crawled to it and collapsed against the metal, staring at the gray blankness. I wanted to disappear. I had just fought for my life while three men stood by and watched, doing nothing. Had their Harmony implants replaced their hearts?

Hatred and shock collided somewhere within my body, leaving me breathless. I had never felt so much indescribable disgust at once. Maybe my grandmother’s choice made sense after all. Being burned, being drowned, being lethally injected . . . they seemed like better options than living in this prison.

I sensed Matthews behind me, and the only reason I didn’t hit or push him into the water was because my arms felt frozen. I could hardly feel any part of my body, but when the metal door slid open, somehow I stood and started to walk.

Numbly, I followed Matthews to the dormitory. I climbed onto the bed, still wearing my soaking wet clothes, and closed my eyes, ignoring the doctor, who was still in the room.

“No one has ever made it to the side before,” he said quietly.

I didn’t care whether that was good or bad. I didn’t care what the test proved or didn’t prove. I ignored him, and eventually he left.

What had happened to the other kids who didn’t make it to the side? Did they drown?

I stayed on the bed, wet, cold, and uncaring. The meal hour came and went and still I didn’t move. I had no desire for food, no desire for anything.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I was conscious of the room again, it was dark. The dimmed night lights glowed over the sleeping forms in the adjacent beds. I made it to the latrine and back to the bed, but then my strength was spent again.

I hardly even had the energy to dream. I vaguely remembered Matthews nudging me, trying to wake me to escort me to another test. But even if I’d wanted to, my limbs wouldn’t respond.

I don’t know how much time passed, a day or two, maybe three, but when I awoke in another haze I was in a different location. I peered around. My head felt fuzzy, like I was looking through some sort of curtain. A thin tube protruded out of my hand as a cool liquid was being pumped into my veins.

I blinked. The room was a sterile white, like the room with the water, and I panicked, struggling to raise my head and look at the floor, making sure it was solid. It was, and I fell back, drowsiness overtaking me again.

Someone was whispering. Someone was touching my shoulder.

I opened my eyes to a dark room. The lights had been dimmed—it was another night. Then I flinched as a face appeared inches from mine.

“Rueben?” I croaked. I tried to sit up, but he kept his hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t move,” he whispered.

I looked him over in the dim light. He was skinnier, but his eyes were the warm brown I remembered, and his contagious smile sent a jolt of warmth through me. Like being touched by the sun.

“How did you get here?” I asked, my throat burning.

“I should ask you the same thing,” he said, looking me over with concern. “I’ve come to say goodbye.”

“What?” I lifted my head, only to be met with darts of pain. I collapsed back onto the pillow. “Have you been released?”

“Not exactly. I’ve found a way out, and I’m leaving.”

I stared at him, not sure if I believed what he was saying. The silence stretched between us. I reached out and grasped his arm. It was so strong, so alive, so warm—the opposite of what I felt. “Where are you going?” I whispered. I wondered how long he could hide in another level of society.

“Outside the city.”

“Your Lake Town?”

“I won’t be welcomed back there—they’ll see my return as a failure. I’ll find another place.”

I shuddered. “But how will you get out of the city? You’ll have to find a boat, and I’ve heard all boats are controlled by the city officials. The ones that aren’t are controlled by barbarians.”

Rueben held my gaze for a moment. “There are many different kinds of barbarians.”

I thought of Dr. Matthews and the others standing by, watching me drown, and knew that Rueben was right. Still, I couldn’t imagine leaving the city, the largest piece of land remaining in the world.

“If you leave the city, you won’t be allowed back in,” I said, feeling panic build. “I won’t see you again.”

“It’s for the best. You don’t want to be corrupted by my Lake Town ways.” His smile was gentle. “And you shouldn’t be worrying about me anyway. I’m more worried about you.”

The irony burned in my chest. Here he was, talking about leaving the safe confines of the city, taking his chances among a foreign Lake Town, and he was worried about me. “They just did who knows what to you in that awful cellar, and now you want to face even more danger?”

He stared at me for a long moment. “I survived, Jez. But what happened to you?”

I looked away. “They tried to drown me.” I closed my eyes against the memory of cold water filling my nostrils and ears.

“The swimming test?”

“When I reached the deck, I wanted to drown
them.
”

“You reached the deck?” His voice sounded incredulous. “I didn’t reach the deck.”

I opened my eyes. “You did the same test?”

“Yes, but they had to rescue me. I didn’t even make it halfway.”

A great shudder passed through me. How many others had had to endure the same torture?

His hand touched mine. “I have to go now,” he said. “I want you to be strong—get better—pass the tests. Get to the University.”

Tears burned my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. I didn’t have the strength to wipe them away. “I don’t think I will . . . I don’t think I can endure any more testing.”

He leaned close to me and pressed his lips to my forehead.

I was so surprised that I couldn’t speak or move.

His fingers threaded through mine. “You’re a strong person, Jezebel. I know you can make it. You have to. You’re meant for greater things.” He paused, his voice deepening. “Take care of yourself.”

Then he released my hand and straightened; it felt like someone had ripped a blanket off me.

“Rueben, wait.” Desperation bubbled up in my voice. “I want to come with you.”

He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. If I’m caught, I’ll be Taken. No second chances.”

Before the swimming test, I had resolved to do everything perfectly, but now I didn’t want to spend one more day here. I had followed the rules, and where had it gotten me? I’d been sent to prison for claiming my inheritance, and I’d missed the Solstice for asking too many questions. Maybe Rueben was right; those in the city were the real barbarians. I would just have to find another way to locate the generators. “I don’t care if it’s dangerous.”

“You can’t even walk.”

I exhaled. “I can.”

He knelt by my bed and grabbed both of my hands, his gaze intent on my face. “You don’t want to take the risk. You’re better than me, and I’ll never be what you can. I’m going to find my place in a Lake Town. I’ll live my life out there—just making it through like everyone else. But you . . .” He brushed my hair back from my forehead. “You’re exceptional. You could really be somebody.”

If he only knew about the key, about what I was supposed to do.
“My differences will only keep getting me into trouble,” I said.

“Trouble brought us together.”

My heart hammered at his words. His eyes seemed to pierce right through me, touching parts of my soul that I’d buried long ago.

“You wouldn’t be in here if they wanted to kill you.” He looked down at our clasped hands. “You’re in an infirmary, hooked up to healing machines, while the others are sent to cages for more experiments.”

“That’s what frightens me the most,” I whispered. But maybe he was right. Maybe it was too much of a risk. If I blew this chance at the University, how else would I get access to the generators? Closing my eyes, I pretended that he wasn’t leaving and that I wasn’t confined to a bed. I pretended that I could hold his hand forever.