Collapsed: Book One of The Illusion of Truth, page 5
Chapter 6
Not two steps through the portal and I feel as if I’ve entered another world. A few moments before I’d been impressed with the Tenement City Hall, but my mouth falls open at the stark contrast to the place where I’ve spent the last seventeen years. Time seems to slow down as a cool breeze grazes over my face, blowing a fallen curl across my forehead.
I squint up at the clarity of the sun and sky. White fluffy clouds float over blue like someone stuck giant cotton balls in the air. Since I’ve never seen the real sky without the slight distortion of the electrodome perimeter, it’s as if I suddenly donned a pair of glasses and realized I’ve been partially blind my entire life. Now there’s an entire reality that I’d barely been aware of, save for depictions in textbooks and videos, but I know now those couldn’t do it justice. In awe, my thoughts quickly move to nighttime when I might get to see the stars for the first time . . . if I have the chance to go outside.
My gaze quickly drops to the Carmine city skyline, miles from our location . . . at least the largest and tallest of the buildings. Over the years I’ve seen the Scarlet transports flying overhead and inside the electrodome, likely on business with factory managers like Papa. The ships are sleek and metallic . . . everything that the Tenement is not. But I never imagined an entire city that looks just as modern.
Clean.
In fact, everything is clean. I inhale a deep breath of air untainted by sulfurous factory odors and scan the lawns flanking the concrete pad I stand on. The grassy area is dotted with trees surrounding the Tenement. An earthy aroma travels through my nasal passages and I want to enjoy the moment, but instead, sudden jealousy slithers through my mind and gut.
Why do the people of the Tenement have nothing while the Scarlets outside have so much beauty? Even the mostly unused space around the Tenement looks better than what’s inside our perimeter.
Who else knows this information? Mayor Lark must know this since she gets a tiny taste of it by living at City Hall. And at some point over her long career, she must have come out here since she has access to the electrodome portal. What if she comes out all the time and just keeps telling us what an excellent job we’re all doing while living in squalor? But then, what did she mean by saying I should check my expectations? Just in the few seconds I’ve been here, they’ve been exceeded already.
Before I can take the thoughts any further, my surroundings return to real time—armed guards waiting for me to move and the chatter behind me of the other students also gawking at our surroundings. More Scarlet sentries herd our group toward a smooth silver bus. By the lack of motor sounds, I can only assume that it’s run by solar power . . . something I only recently learned about from Papa.
I adjust my bag’s strap again and spot Kalib behind me. His shoulders are slouched and he’s keeping his distance, likely due to how I just blew him off on the other side. Guilt swirls in my middle, but us continuing to be friends out here isn’t going to do either of us any good. This is not how I wanted our friendship to end, but a clean break is best for us both.
“Hustle, people,” a dark-haired sentry calls in a deep, forceful tone from the open entrance of the bus. “We don’t have all day for you Blueys.”
My heart sinks at the term. Even out here Scarlets must remind us that we are not them. We don’t have the same rights, privileges, or respect.
Despite that, I pick up my pace and take the metal steps to board the bus. Inside there’s seating for probably thirty, and several of the other students have already staked their claims. Not one of them sits together.
Kalib comes up behind me. I pinch my lips and eye the front, very empty, row of seats on my left. I know for a fact that Kalib is a back-of-the-classroom kind of seat chooser if given the option. With this in mind, I toss my bag onto the first seat and slide past to take the spot next to it, by the window. Before I can change my mind, I pull the safety belt across my chest and lap and secure it with a click.
On impulse I glance to Kalib, and he sighs. He rubs at the back of his neck like he’s trying to decide what to do next, when Lincoln comes up behind him.
“Pick your seat, man,” Lincoln says and taps him on the shoulder. “You heard the guards out there. We don’t want to cause trouble.”
Kalib trudges seventy-five percent of the way down the aisle before he finds an empty place on the opposite side of the bus and flops into his seat. He looks up and catches me staring his way. With a flick of my neck I return my attention to the front of the bus, but I feel his eyes boring into the back of my head.
Why did things have to end this way?
When everyone is boarded, including several armed sentries who remain standing, the auto-driven transport begins its journey down the road leading into the city.
Occasionally I’ve taken the Tenement buses when I didn’t have enough time to get somewhere, and the experience was nothing like this one. Those transports are rickety and old and tend to be so packed with people that you can barely breathe. I’m pretty sure I saw a rat under a seat once. Inhaling the clean air, I gaze out my window and watch as the full view of Tenement Three becomes apparent. From the tallest buildings in Carmine, the Tenement must offer a pleasant view. The iridescence nature of the electrodome covering the city actually makes it appear quite lovely . . . like a giant half soap bubble, surrounded by grass and trees, forever capping the poverty and filth underneath.
And everyone I love is stuck there until they die . . . except my best friend. There were plenty of pitfalls standing in my way of getting this far; some of them involved Kalib. But I never imagined that him joining me on the outside would be one of them.
Thankfully, the transport takes a left and the Tenement falls behind us. Now, unless I crane my neck to see it, my only view is of the beautiful city coming closer.
My new home.
On the way we travel through less densely populated areas of houses, businesses, and shops. I’ve never seen anything like it. In the Tenement we are basically piled on top of each other, and all our shopping is a central location near the open-air market where we purchase our food. Here, it seems from the signage that they have these kinds of things indoors.
When we finally roll into the city, I strain to get a good view of the skyscrapers through the window, many of which are infinitely taller than the factories and apartment buildings in the Tenement. How in the world do they get to the top of them? I would be exhausted climbing the stairs!
On the street women with intricately coiffed hair and fancy dresses walk at a leisurely pace. Some of them enter shops boasting incredible window displays. Their clothes are similar to the frocks I’ve seen Kalib’s sister and mother designing and working on in their free time . . . always trying to make a bit more Coinage. Men dressed in expensive-looking suits, like the one Mr. Smith wore, carry bags or briefcases and walk hurriedly to unknown locations. These people most definitely do not work in factories or anything like them. I doubt any of them have performed hard labor in their lives.
Beside the transport several smaller vehicles operated by single people pull up, and I look down to study the passengers. I saw a few cars along the way too, and of course I knew vehicles like this existed, but none of them are in the Tenement. People only travel by foot, bike, or buses in there. Plus we have no way of powering them.
Will my new employer have a car? And if they do, will I be allowed to ride in one?
My mind swirls with the possibility of living here in Carmine, and thoughts of the Tenement are relegated to the back of my mind—for the time being. Actually, being a part of the CPW always felt like a far-off dream I tried not to dwell on. But now I’m here, and everything is going to be different—the foods, the clothes . . . everything.
But exactly how? None of us have even been told what we’ll be doing yet. What kind of responsibilities might I have? Were we tested for a specific placement during the exam? I wrack my brain to remember even a second of those hours yesterday, but the memories are completely gone. What did they do to us?
The bus turns again and drives right into a tall building through a large concrete opening. It’s not a skyscraper, but it’s high nonetheless.
One of the sentries finally speaks. “We have arrived at the Cobalt Premier Workforce headquarters,” he says curtly. “Inside, you will each be scanned one more time, and then a representative from your assignment will be available to take you.” He tightens his jaw for a moment. “There is zero negotiation. Where you are assigned has been approved by the top executives of the CPW organization. You Blueys are lucky to be here, and complaints will not be tolerated. There will be no options other than returning to the Tenement with your family’s wages docked for one year to make up for your ingratitude.”
Instinctively I raise my hand and place it over my heart. There was nothing about that in the application . . . not that I remember, anyway. I gaze out through the window to see that we’ve stopped next to a stairwell.
In silence, the other students begin to stand and gather their things, so I do the same . . . no need to stand out now. And I definitely don’t want to give off the hint of an ungrateful appearance.
The bus door opens, and the sentry who just spoke exits and waits at the bottom of the steps, weapon in hand as if he’s ready to shoot us at any moment.
My heart pounds against my ribcage, and I can only hope that it’s not so loud that everyone hears it. Is such a show of force really necessary? Why would anyone work this hard to get into the program and then do something here to mess it up right away?
I quickly grab my bag and make my way to the metal stairs, while my shoes pound down the steps and onto the tar-black ground. Several other vehicles are parked beyond the bus, but other than that, the area is empty. With haste, I move past the sentry and wait for instructions.
The others, including the two final sentries, disembark the silver bus. Students form a line, and the first sentry begins our journey up the echoing stairs. I can’t help but notice Kalib at the back of the line looking bewildered, and I wonder if he regrets what he had to have done on a whim. At least the rest of us had probably been planning this for years . . . even if we really had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.
Two flights up, we’re led out into a lobby with polished stone floors, white walls and several decorative mirrors and pieces of artwork. I catch a glimpse of myself in one of the mirrors, and despite picking out my best outfit this morning, a light blue dress with half sleeves and a skirt that hits my calves, I’m filthy compared to the splendor around us. I attempt to smooth the stray curl that worked its way from my bun, but without pulling the entire thing loose and redoing it, there’s nothing I can do.
I glance back at the rag-tag group of students, and suddenly we’ve all taken on a newly exposed bedraggled look. But it’s not as if they weren’t expecting Cobalts . . . everyone knows what we look like.
My chest tightens. Why do I suddenly feel like such scum? I clutch my bag over my chest, not that it makes me feel that much better.
The sentry stops at a door labeled “Division of Cobalt Premier Workforce” and opens it. As the door swings open, the man locks his gaze on me, and with a jerk of his head motions for me to enter.
Inside wait twelve people, this time both men and women, each perfectly dressed from head to toe. A pale woman of about thirty, with her blonde hair pulled partially back on the top, wears a red cap and tan uniform similar to the sentry’s, but its cut is softer. Instead of slacks she wears a skirt that hits just below the knees, chunky one-inch heels, and a button-up blouse with the collar and sleeves trimmed in red. The woman holds a small rectangular device and smiles warmly as we enter. A man, apparently her assistant, stands next to her in the same uniform, sans skirt of course.
“Please.” The woman gestures to us. “Come in. You must be eagerly anticipating your assignments.”
I find a spot where she indicates, and the others follow suit.
When we’re all in, the woman turns her attention to the head sentry. “You may leave now. I believe we can handle it from here.”
“Ma’am,” the sentry growls. It’s obvious that he does not agree. “We can continue to be of service.”
She clears her throat. “Yes, I am quite aware. But in this place I am in charge for the moment, and I believe that I have the situation quite under control.”
The sentry straightens, puffs out his chest and nods to the other two. Without another word they leave.
When the door clicks shut, the woman smiles at us again. “Greetings, and welcome to Carmine. My name is Loretta Brink, and as you can imagine, I work for the Division of the Cobalt Premier Workforce. My task today is to ensure your safe placement in your new positions as privileged representatives of the Cobalt population in Scarlet society.”
She tips her chin to the group of Scarlets waiting. “One of these kind people will be escorting you as soon as we complete your check-ins.”
I can only hope that they are kind.
Ms. Brink and her assistant call us out alphabetically. Lincoln is the first to go since his last name starts with a B, Blake. After he’s confirmed, a man steps forward to escort him to work as an assistant to a math professor.
Next is Kalib. I gulp as I watch my friend step to Ms. Brink, and she completes the same scan that we’d had back at City Hall. She studies the screen on her device and waves an older, heavyset woman toward them. Kalib will be working as a house servant, and that’s all I know.
Before the woman takes him away, my chest tightens when his eye catches mine. The microsecond we lock gazes feels like an eternity until my name is called out.
“Tenly Hawkins.”
I hike my bag on my shoulder and walk the few steps toward Ms. Brink. I barely hear anything she says until she’s introducing me to an Asian man named Isaiah. She asks me to follow him to begin my life as a governess in the Pierce household.
Even though it’s what I’ve always wanted, sudden panic at the reality of it grips my chest, and I scan around for Kalib.
But he’s already gone.
Chapter 7
About fifteen minutes into our mostly silent trip, I clear my throat from the back seat of the Pierces’ fancy black car. The inside of the cab is large and spacious and could fit at least five people. It feels strange sitting in the back while Isaiah chauffeurs me.
I want to be amazed by all the wonders flying past the window as we drive toward our destination, but my nerves keep me from being able to do just that.
Everything is so free here. People are allowed to move about as they please, and no one seems to be tracking their every move. Street corners are conspicuously without Scarlet sentries. At least five public air transports have flown through the sky since we left downtown, but it seems most people drive their cars on the street. I still can’t get over the look of the clear sky without the obscuring nature of the electrodome.
Isaiah doesn’t respond to my throat-clearing and only makes some manual adjustments to the screen beside the small steering wheel. I’ve gathered so far that, as I’d read in textbooks about Scarlet life, the vehicle is self-driving, just like the bus was. But most non-commercial vehicles still have a human operator to make adjustments to the driving patterns, so Isaiah often returns his hands to the wheel.
I finally build up the courage to speak. “Where are we going?”
Isaiah eyes me for a moment in the rearview mirror. “The Pierce family resides in a quiet suburb outside of Carmine. There are nine more minutes of driving time until we arrive.”
My stomach does a flip. Now that Isaiah has spoken to me, I have a bunch of other questions jumping in my mind. Are the Pierces kind? How many children will I be caring for? What’s the family like?
“What’s a suburb?” is the only question that actually makes it from my brain and out of my lips.
Isaiah lets out a sigh. “It’s a community on the outskirts of the city proper.”
I saw the houses and shops on our journey into Carmine; that must be what Isaiah is talking about.
He pauses for a moment as if in thought. “Inside the Tenement you lived in some sort of apartment, right?”
I nod.
“The suburbs are quite different from city living, where there are many apartments. Fewer people live on larger plots of land, and there are more single-family houses.” Isaiah keeps his tone and expression neutral so I can’t read him. “I think that you’ll find the suburb experience relaxing.”
“Will we be able to see the stars from there?”
The question must take the driver off guard because the corners of his lips turn up in the slightest of smiles. “Yes. In fact, you can see the stars considerably better from the Pierce residence than you would have if your placement were downtown.”
Just the fact that he thought through something I might be interested in makes me have the slightest inclination that he might be a trustworthy person . . . thoughtful or sympathetic at the least. Perhaps that’s a good sign for what may happen after the next eight minutes.
I clutch my bag over my chest and turn my gaze out the window. So many sights go by that I haven’t seen before . . . more cars filled with happy-looking families, homes with lawns and large green trees casting shade. Although it would probably never happen with all the work I’m sure I’ll be assigned, I can imagine myself leaning against one of those sturdy trunks, reading books and learning about subjects Kalib always called boring, like chemistry.
Kalib.
Without warning, or permission, my mind drifts back to him. Where did he go? Will I ever see him again? Do I want to?
My fingers dig into the fabric of my bag. Deep down the answer to that last question is yes. I do want to see Kalib again . . . but I’d prepared myself to let him go because there wasn’t a future in Tenement life.
Out here there might be. Maybe even for Kalib if he lies low and does as he’s told.
