Read The Last Fairy Tale Online
Authors: E. S. Lowell
Tags: #lowell, #magic, #sci-fi, #fantasy, #lich king, #e. s. lowell, #science fiction, #post-apocalyptic, #the last fairy tale, #music, #rpg, #kindle, #video game, #artificial intelligence
* * * * *
“Where is your nanny?” asked Mr. Schafer, the nanny in charge of the physical education class.
“She left toward the beginning of the period, Mr. Schafer, sir,” replied one of the children. Mr. Schafer looked up and down the hallway, as if looking for Ms. Canterbry.
“Uh...it looks like everyone will have physical education together,” he said, corralling all the children into the room. He instructed the children to practice jumping ropes while he ran a quick errand. Then he turned and swiftly left the room.
Olivia dug a rope out of the dingy cardboard box in the corner of the room. She looked around and spotted Nachton and quickly made her way over to him. They had been good friends for quite a while now, and Olivia was the only child in the orphanage to which Nachton would speak. He was the only other child that knew more than what the nannies taught.
“Hey, Nachton,” said Olivia, “I have new information.”
Nachton stood still, his face to the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Olivia asked, noticing his red-rimmed eyes. She was certain someone had said something rude about his father again. The other children hardly ever had the time or chance to misbehave. Doing so was against the rules. But on rare occasions certain strong emotions were sparked, and Nachton was an easy target.
“Well, go on, Nachton,” she said quietly, “You can tell me.”
“Dad has it,” Nachton mumbled. He crossed his arms and tried to hold back more tears.
“Oh, no…” gasped Olivia. “Are you sure? How do you know?”
“I just do, okay?” Nachton weakly snapped. “I can tell.”
“That’s horrible,” said Olivia, shocked. She didn't know what else to say. Mr. Dewberry was like a father to her. The last thing she wanted was for him to die of the DNA Flu.
“I don’t want to live here anymore, Olivia,” Nachton said. “There’s nothing left for us.”
“So you’ve put it together, too, then,” Olivia sighed. “Great minds think alike.”
“What do you mean?” Nachton asked, looking up at her.
“The reason we have abnormally large eyes? Or the reason we never get sick or have to take the vaccines the staff takes? The fact that we live in this orphanage and have never had a glimpse of what’s outside? I think they’ve destroyed it, Nachton—the whole world.”
“So it’s true...” Nachton looked down at the floor again, his gaunt face blank.
“Yes. We’re the ‘future.’ It says it in the pledge. But it’s what Ms. Canterbry said today that made it all make sense.” Olivia could tell that Nachton wasn’t taking this news well. His father was dying, and now he was being told that what they had always suspected was true.
“What did she say?” Nachton managed to ask.
“She told us that science is dangerous and that it must have boundaries. I think she’s talking about what happened before our time.” She looked around, moved in closer to Nachton, and then whispered, “I believe that we were created, or maybe altered or something, because they destroyed humanity some way or another by playing with science. We have some type of immunity or resistance to whatever it is the adults have, so they are–”
“Why aren’t you practicing jumping your rope?” asked a child from behind Olivia. “The nanny has instructed us to do so, and I suggest that you get started or I will report you.”
Olivia turned around and stared at the large girl whose nose was upturned in a way that left her mouth slightly agape, giving her a rather unintelligent appearance. The girl was Rosie Walton, who, in Olivia’s opinion, was one of the least pleasant of all the children. She had always been the one to tattle to the nannies when either Olivia or Nachton had done something wrong.
“It’s amazing how completely oblivious you all are to what is going on,” Olivia said to Rosie. As her anger grew by the second, Olivia could hear the blood rushing through her ears. “Why don’t you try thinking for once–”
“Don’t, Olivia,” said Nachton quietly from behind her, “you’re wasting your time.”
Olivia knew that Nachton was right, but she was sick of how none of the other children seemed to question their existence. Sure, they had been taught since they were born that they must obey the nannies and never speculate on ideas that the nannies didn’t provide, but were they all that oblivious? But then Olivia remembered that she and Nachton had reasons for being different. Nachton’s father had taught him many things over the years. Perhaps not very useful things, but still, he had contact with his father, something that none of the other children had.
Olivia had been given access to an old diary, which held some written entries as well as some pictures and a few old article clippings. Mr. Dewberry also shared a few tattered encyclopedias that he had kept stashed away for many years. With these direct connections to the world as it used to be, Olivia and Nachton were able to see things differently.
“You’re right, Nachton,” Olivia said with a sigh. She and Nachton began to jump rope, Nachton a little more slowly than the others due to his feeble nature. Rosie seemed to be satisfied, and she turned away from them. After a few minutes, Mr. Schafer returned, looking worried. He was attempting to hold back his heavy breathing.
“Uh...children. You will be spending free time in your rooms today,” he said, trying to appear calm. “I’ll lead you to the dining hall for dinner. Please form two lines.”
Olivia and Nachton looked at each other and immediately knew that something was wrong. They got in line behind the rest of the children and followed Mr. Schafer to the dining hall.
Dinner was much like breakfast. The nannies passed out trays of Crud to the children and everyone ate. The dining hall was silent except for the clanging of a fork against a metal tray every now and then. Everyone seemed on edge. The nannies in particular looked worried, which was reason enough to concern the children.
After dinner, the nannies escorted the children to their rooms. The children were usually allowed to have free time after dinner, which consisted of sitting around the main hall and playing games or reading textbooks. Olivia had decided that because the children were being sent to their rooms quite early, something had definitely gone wrong and the staff needed the children out of the way.
* * * * *
In her room, which she had convinced herself was a cell, Olivia sat on her bed and put her head in her hands. She had mixed feelings. She was excited yet terrified by her new discoveries, and she was also sad about Nachton’s news about his father. She thought for a moment and then pulled her diary from underneath her mattress. She opened it up to the page marked with a red ribbon and wrote:
1. Science is dangerous.
2. Science must have boundaries.
3. Science is not always necessary.
She circled the rules and drew a line to a picture cut from an old magazine that was glued inside her diary. The picture showed a valley surrounded by a grand forest with a deer standing in a river of flowers. It was the one picture Olivia had of what she now believed was once the world outside. She wrote one sentence beside the line she drew:
I was right.
They All Fall Down
Seven Years Earlier
“Ah, there ye are,” said Mr. Dewberry, holding his muscular arms out in welcome. “I forgot yer tray on purpose, lass.” He chuckled, put his hands on his hips, and looked down at Olivia. She had been sent into the kitchen on nanny’s orders to get her tray because Mr. Dewberry hadn’t provided enough. She stood in front of him, her hands behind her back, and stared up at him with large eyes as pale as the winter sky. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she continued to stare up at him silently.
“Oho! Look at ye. Ye remind me so much o’ yer father,” Mr. Dewberry said. “He was never one fer talkin’ much. But when he did say somethin’, ye knew ye’d best listen ‘cause it was sure to be important. I s’pose we haven’t met properly. I’m Mr. Dewberry. Ye probably already know me boy, Nachton. He’s six years old, jus’ like you.”
My father
... thought Olivia. She looked down at her feet and pondered the subject. It was the first time Olivia had thought of such matters. She suddenly felt empty. The nannies said the Coalition gave the children their lives. The children must then look up to the Coalition and be a part of it one day. The nannies never mentioned anything about her parents, so she never questioned it. She looked back up at Mr. Dewberry and asked, “I have a father?”
Mr. Dewberry suddenly stiffened. He had seemed so excited to see Olivia that he had forgotten the children were being carefully cultivated, and that providing them with unauthorized information was forbidden. However, speaking to his two best friends’ daughter for the first time threw him off.
“Uh... sit here, lass.” Mr. Dewberry walked over to Olivia, picked her up delicately, and placed her gently on a stool. She looked up at him, wondering why he suddenly seemed worried. He turned and walked into a small office in the back of the kitchen. When he returned, he was carrying a large black book. He handed it to Olivia.
“Yes, Olivia, ye do have a father. And a mother, too. They died not too long after ye were born.” Mr. Dewberry’s voice trembled, and tears began to form in his bright green eyes. Olivia tore her gaze from the book to look at him. She saw that he was trying to act calm, even though his hands shook. She noticed that his eyes were red and watery. She had read that this was called crying, but had never seen it before and had never understood the need for it until now. The emptiness inside her was like a bottomless pit, and she felt droplets of water forming in her own eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek and fell onto the book. She was crying.
Mr. Dewberry patted her tiny back with his large hand as she cried. After a few moments he said, “Yer parents were me best friends. They were two o’ the kindest people in the world.” He stepped back and smiled at her. “And yer jus’ like the both of ’em. Smart
and
good-lookin’.”
Olivia felt her cheeks grow warm, and she wondered if she was blushing, another concept she had read about. She looked back down at the book in her lap. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that it was bound in leather with a silver clasp that held it shut. A red ribbon with a silver ring attached to the bottom served as a bookmark.
“That there was yer father’s. He asked me to give it to ye.” He watched as Olivia turned the book over and over, closely examining it. She then smiled at it, as if it were a precious thing of which she would never let go.
“Thank you,” she said, holding the book close to her chest.
“Yer very welcome, lass,” said Mr. Dewberry. He smiled at her, but his smile soon faded as he remembered something. “I'm s’pose to send ye right back up to yer room when ye get done eatin’.”
“Can I take the book with me, please?” Olivia asked.
“Of course, but be sure to hide it, all right? Nice and out o’ sight at all times.” Mr. Dewberry picked her up off the stool and gently lowered her to the floor. He then crouched down to face her. “If yer father was here, he’d have some sort o’ witty remark for ye,” he laughed, and then said more seriously, “but go knowin’ this: always trust yerself, lass. There’s not a soul in this world that has a heart like yers. Plenty o’ smart people here, aye, but logic ain’t always the best way to a decision. Can ye remember that?”
“Yes, sir,” said Olivia, still holding the book tightly.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Mr. Dewberry said. He trotted over to the counter and grabbed a small bag. “Take this. It’s yer meal. I enhanced it special for ye. Don’t tell Mr. Gloome!” He chuckled and handed her the bag. “Now off to yer room! Don't forget to hide the book.”
* * * * *
Olivia opened her eyes. She was lying on her bed still wearing her uniform. She had fallen asleep shortly after writing Ms. Canterbry’s rules down in her diary, which was still in her hands.
She glanced around her room that consisted only of a bed, some hooks on the wall for hanging her uniform, and a few of her favorite books stacked in a corner. After her recent discovery, she felt trapped. The room was nothing more than a cell for locking her up at night. She walked over to the door and put her ear against it. She could hear nothing but the faint sound of heavy breathing as the other children slept.
It could be anywhere from midnight to just before the bell rings
, she thought. She sighed, walked back to her bed, and plopped down on it. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, she opened her diary and flipped through the pages.
Her father’s journal had been both precious and helpful to Olivia throughout her life. The journal contained quite a few interesting things: an old picture cut from what must have been a magazine, a small article that was difficult to read, and a hand-drawn picture of what looked like a goat with a human’s face. The picture from the magazine was of the deer in the beautiful landscape that Olivia had drawn the line to after she had written Ms. Canterbry’s rules earlier that evening.