Quantum State, page 5
I lay down over the cold, hard floor with a single blanket to keep me company as I remember that tomorrow I'll have only eleven days left till my birthday.
The next morning, I am full of excitement and fear—a ball of mixed emotions that I'm not sure what to do with—and I don't care. I might get to see Mama again. Not in the flesh, but at least on video. I want for nothing more right now.
When I see Kazimir, he brings a tray of breakfast to me and slips the tray through the bottom of the cell door. A bowl of cereal with a few blueberries and a glass of orange juice. But I'm too anxious to eat. “What did MAQS say?” My stomach twists in knots.
He nods his head. “MAQS will let you watch your mama's final days in the cell.”
A deep sigh of relief escapes my chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“But”—Kazimir pulls my attention back with that single word—”you have to tell us why you were at the Cylindrical.”
My heart crushes. I can't tell MAQS that, because she'll take Esfir, the blood sample, and the blueprints. We'll have nothing to prove she's a liar, and I can't do that to Esfir. “I…I can't.”
Kazimir shakes his head. “That's the deal. Think about it and let me know what you decide by lunchtime.”
I sink to my knees, in front of the breakfast tray, as Kazimir walks away. I stare at the retreating back of my only hope for seeing Mama again. I want to yell out to him, to tell him to wait, to come back. But I can't. I can't betray everything just to see Mama again.
I take spoonfuls of cereal while a crazy debate rages in my mind. I can just tell them about the blueprints and that I'll return the blueprints once I'm out, and leave Esfir and the blood sample out of this. Or, maybe just tell them about the blood sample. They'll believe me if I give them something. But why the Cylindrical? I can't tell them I went there to find proof that the atmosphere is clean…that I think MAQS is full of crap.
As late morning rolls around, I've found a nicer nook between the concrete block and the other corner that is more comfortable, and lay on the floor there. I've almost fallen asleep when I hear the breakfast tray clank against the floor.
My head jerks up and I notice an older man, maybe in his forties and dressed in a dark gray tunic, pulling the tray out of my cell with a strange smirk. He smiles crooked and is missing a few front teeth. His cheeks are unshaven, at least a few days' growth showing, and he has a dark vein that runs from his right ear to his chin.
“You've finished eating, Masha?” he asks as if he's offended me.
“Sure, yeah,” I grumble in a yawn as I pull myself out of my unpleasant nook.
“Didn't mean to wake you.”
“Is it lunchtime already?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, just ten in the morning.”
“Oh,” I respond, disappointed, because I think I've figured out what I'm going to say.
“Why, something going on at noon?”
I sigh at this nondescript man whom I'll probably never see again, and somehow feel I can say anything to him for that very reason. “Yeah, I'll get to see videos of Mama. Kazimir's going to bring them to me.”
“Kazimir, huh?” he answers in a suspicious tone.
“Yeah.” My brow quirks. “What about him?”
“Just ironic.”
“What is?”
“That Kazimir caught you and you ended up in your own mama's cell.”
“What's ironic about it?”
The old jailer scratches his almost bald scalp before replying, “Well, because Kazimir's papa is the one who caught your mama.”
I freeze, unable to speak or move, because emotions rumble in a rage that I never knew I had inside of me. “Kazimir's papa is responsible for Mama's imprisonment?!”
The old man smirks, as if exposing this secret has brought him pleasure. “Didn't mean to upset you, my dear,” he finishes, sounding so insincere.
I yell, “Why did you tell me this? Why did you tell me?!”
“Let's just say I have a score to settle with the Kuznetsovs,” he replies before he walks off with the tray in hand.
My fingers grip the cell bars and I shake them as I scream, “Let me out of here! Let me out!”
State of Disillusionment
I don't think I can even look at Kazimir when he comes through the corridor for my answer, but for Mama I have to, and so I take in a long, deep breath and stand ready for him. Seeing Kazimir fills me with rage now, knowing his family is the reason my family keeps ending up behind bars.
He slips the lunch tray underneath my cell. “So, have you decided?” he asks matter-of-factly.
“Yeah,” I answer, and step toward him with as stoic a gesture as I can muster. I don't want any secrets coming out of me.
His eyes look more like speckled egg-blue, up close. I didn't notice until now. “So, what's your answer?”
I find the white ribbon on my wrist, my fingers playing with it, and I can only think of Mama's last few days before she decided she'd had enough of this cell, of Cherni. “I'll tell you why I went to the Cylindrical.”
“It better be good. It's forbidden to be within a twenty-yard radius of any machinery designed by MAQS,” Kazimir says, reciting the law.
“I know.” My gaze drops to the floor, to my toes, and then they return to Kazimir's intense stare. “But I was dared by some kids at school to go into the Cylindrical and take a photo as proof.”
“It was a dare?” Kazimir is doubtful as his eyelids narrow over thoughtful eyes.
“Yeah,” I say firmly. There's no way I'm giving up the evidence.
Kazimir leans into the bars, his lips close to my ears, his chalky smell overwhelming. “Then what about the other person you were with, the one who got away?”
“She was no one. I talked her into coming so I wouldn't have to do it alone.”
“MAQS will need a name.” His lips are a thin, strong line.
“I promised her she wouldn't get into trouble. I can't tell you. She'll hate me forever.”
His left brow arches. “Is that worth not seeing your mama again?”
My mouth hangs ajar with no words. Then, I find an answer. “I…I don't know, but I just know I can't betray a friend.”
“Fine. I'll ask MAQS, but first…what happened to the camera?”
I stare at him blankly.
“They one you used to take the photo of evidence that you were there, for the dare?”
“Oh yeah, I…dropped it, when I was chased.”
Kazimir stares at me as if he can somehow see through me, and I can't give myself away, and so I hold firm. “Then I'll send a search party for it. It'll be good to have more evidence supporting your story.”
“Sure.” I shrug.
Kazimir turns on the ball of his foot like a soldier and then disappears down the corridor. All of the Keepers are trained that way, to keep order.
I feel like I sit in the cell waiting for Kazimir's return for far too long. My forefinger taps the window as I gaze out and watch the bleak colors of our sun hang lower and lower in the sky, each descent closer to me turning eighteen, and all I can think about is that I have to get out of here.
I look at the stars, the sky—knowing Mama looked from this same spot, that Esfir will likely be staring up at the stars now from his backyard—and I don't feel so alone anymore.
When Kazimir finally returns, I still can't read his expression, but when he opens his mouth, I hang on every word. “We couldn't find any camera on the park grounds.”
I stay still, stoic, though my heart sinks.
“But MAQS says she will accept your answer and let you see your mama's videos.”
“Oh, thank God.” I sigh heavily and pull my face close to the bars as my fingers wrap the iron bars tightly—so close I could almost kiss Kazimir. “When? When do I get to watch them?”
“Now. MAQS will stream a few recordings through the video line installed in your cell. You'll see the images shortly.”
My breaths are short, my smile widens, and my lashes blink faster than usual, until I turn away from Kazimir and suddenly see my dead Mama before me, and I feel as if I'm seeing a ghost.
“I'll give you some time with her,” I hear Kazimir say behind me before he plods slowly down the corridor, his sandals faintly slapping the stone.
Now, I really am alone with Mama, and my knees buckle underneath me, bringing me to the floor as I stay near the wall, captivated by her 3D holographic image as if she were really here, and strangely I do feel her here. My palms press against the concrete of the wall, of the floor, as I watch her sit in a corner, thinking. About what I don't know, but worry is etched in wrinkles around the corners of her eyes and she's teary, and all I want to do is reach out and hug her to tell her everything will be okay, but it's not, and it won't be okay. It's already been, and she's gone, and the image only makes me more sad and angry.
I watch Mama as she paces, talking to herself, muttering something like, “If I could just get out of here. I could show her, show her what to do.” And I can't help but wonder if that her is me, and I grow more curious about the key I found in the pot in the backyard.
More images appear in my cell—her cell—and keep me company when she leans into the window and just lingers there, staring outside. She jumps up and rushes to the cell bars and shakes them vigorously, begging to be let out—as I did.
Then, the images dissipate and she's gone and I'm left alone—without her—and I stomp toward the cell door. “Where'd she go?! Bring her back!”
Only Kazimir appears. “It's time for you to eat. You need to eat.” He points to the tray of sweet potatoes, peas, and grain bread covered with butter.
“Fine, then more videos?” I squat next to my tray and shove the bread into my mouth obligingly.
“I think MAQS will be okay with that, later.”
My mouth bites are vicious like a shark. “Later when?”
“After we've had more time to talk.”
“Talk?” I swallow hard on a bite of sweet potato. I thought we were done talking. I have nothing more to say to this…this traitor of my family.
Kazimir nods his head, reaffirming what I'm dreading.
“What more does MAQS need to know?”
“Later, when you're done eating.” Kazimir says curtly, as if 'later' is his new go-to word, and none of this makes eating any easier, because now I'm filled with more anxiety. After I take another bite of sweet potato, Kazimir ambles to the dusty cabinet against the corridor wall and waits for me to finish.
I finally eat my last bite, gulp my almond milk, and then slide the tray through the bottom crack of the cell. “There. Done. Can we get these probing questions over with so I can get back to seeing my mama?”
Chuckling, Kazimir strolls toward my cell. “You sure are a demanding one.”
“Yeah, so my papa says.”
“I like that.” He stares at me like he's watching the famed artist paint the Mona Lisa, and I can't help but feel uneasy.
“So, what else does MAQS want?” I ask curtly, wanting this over with as quickly as possible.
Leaning into the cell bars, Kazimir whispers and his tone is so eerie. “MAQS would like me to ask you, 'Where is the key?' ”
I almost freeze. My face must look like a block of ice, but I can't look suspicious now, and so instead I ball my fist and hit the cell bars to let all my fears out as frustration. “What key?!”
“MAQS wants you to listen to a recording she heard of you.”
Suddenly, over the intercom in the ceiling, I hear a click and then the recording. At first there is rummaging, noises like scratching, and then I hear my voice. “Where's the key? She hid a key!” I hear more rummaging, and then my distinct voice a last time. “I've got it!”
I swallow hard, feeling I've been caught in a lie—except I don't understand why this is any of MAQS's business.
“She knows you have the key, she just doesn't know where you hid it and would like you to tell her so that the bots don't have to ransack your home.”
“I really—”
“Can't tell her?” Kazimir interjects. “I advise that you do. MAQS will find the key, after all, and you don't want her to think you are hiding something. You could end up indefinitely behind these bars like your mama.”
I feel trapped, bound and tied. I have no more moves, no more words. If I tell her, I'll lose the key, the only thing left my mama wanted me to find, to learn the truth. But if I don't tell her, she'll search the house and find it anyway and I could end up staying in jail indefinitely.
But reason doesn't direct me now. “I don't understand why I should tell you anything. Your papa is the reason my mama is gone!”
Kazimir stares at me dumbfounded. “How…how did you find out?”
“Does it matter?!” I retort angrily.
“I guess not.” Kazimir wipes his lips. His hands rub over his head, and then he paces before settling in front of the cell door again with his left leg leaning into the bars. “I wanted to tell you in my own time, but since you know…you have to understand my papa did what he had to do.”
“Had to do?! Because my mama wanted to be free, to see what exists beyond Cherni?! So she gets thrown in prison for the rest of her life for that?!”
Kazimir shakes his head vigorously, his grasp on the cell bars stronger. “Your mama wasn't given a life sentence for trying to flee Cherni.” His voice rises an octave.
“What?!”
I see the speckled blue in his eyes better as he gets closer. “She was the leader of the rebel group that called themselves Freedom.”
“What are you talking about? She wasn't a rebel. She wasn't a leader!” My mind churns in memories of Mama coming home late from work and hiding papers in her private desk before Papa would come home, of me walking in on Mama holding a midnight meeting with a few friends in the living room, and of countless pamphlets scattered all over the dining table as Mama bundled them in rubber bands.
I suspected she did more than just try to sneak out of Cherni. After all, she was arrested around the same time as the Calypso Tower prisoners, and a life sentence is harsh for just trying to sneak out. Usually you'd get a month at most. Still, she wasn't sentenced to Calypso Tower which is where the real criminals go…so I could never be sure.
She was involved somehow, but how exactly I never really knew.
This revelation forces the truth to the forefront, a truth that the entire district—even MAQS—had us all forgetting, and I hate Kazimir even more for it, for showing me a legitimate reason for the Keepers taking my mama, my mat, from me.
“She was, and I can show you the proof you need on video,” Kazimir argues.
“Then show me!” I cry, tears soaking my pinking cheeks, and my hands trembling with uncertainty.
All I see is his head shake. “I can't show you anything yet, let alone ever let you out of here, not until you tell MAQS where the key is. It's not up to me.”
My hands flail about, angry that he is so loyal to this…this machine. “Why does she need the key? What is so important about that key?!”
“It's not for me to know. It's for me to convey to you MAQS's message.”
I roll my eyes under all my raging tears and hit the concrete wall hard with my fist, drawing blood. “Fine. I'll tell you.”
“Please.” Kazimir is so calm, so resolute, as if nothing could possibly sway him from his belief in MAQS and this system.
“I…I hid the key in a vase on my desk in my bedroom.”
His head lowers in a brief smile. “Thank you, you have no idea how much you've satisfied MAQS.”
“Now, I want to see Mama,” I say firmly, and Kazimir nods before stepping down the corridor. I know in those minutes, where I hear his footsteps draw farther from me, bots have been directed to my house while Papa is at duty and my baby brother Julian is at his Pod. These mechanical strangers will enter my bedroom, my private space, and steal something precious from me that belonged to my mama, to me. I don't think I can ever forgive Kazimir for insisting I tell MAQS, for putting me in this cell and leaving me with nowhere to run.
I turn when I hear the click, and shortly after seeing a 3D holographic image of Mama gripping her fingers over the cell bars, as I do, her eyes fix on a thirty-year-old man in front of her—her captor. She looks younger now, and this must have been recorded soon after her capture, when she still had a glimmer of hope in her eyes. I listen intently to her.
“You can't keep me in here. I've done nothing wrong!” she demands.
The man responds hostilely, “Nothing wrong? You've been passing out pamphlets for the past year about the corruption of our MAQS system, making people wary and scared.”
“And that's a bad thing, to be wary?”
“It is when you have nothing to fear. When you're inciting a frenzy which leads to your followers bombing town hall!” The man's wrinkled face grows hot red. “My only son, Kazimir, was in there. He could have died!”
She's silent, her face full of regret as she answers in a timid voice, “And I'm sorry about that. I told them not to bomb anything. I didn't want violence, but they insisted.”
“Which is the only reason MAQS has you inside of the cell, instead of Calypso Tower like the others.”
“Please, I need to get back to my family, to my daughter Masha. She won't understand any of this, and I don't want her making the same mistakes I did. Please, talk to MAQS for me,” Mama begs, her form even bending slightly as if to go on her knees, but the man huffs.
“I can't do you any favors. MAQS has declared your sentence and you are to remain in here until your natural death. The only reason you're not in the tower with the rest of 'em is because you helped end this before it got ugly.”
She bursts out in tears as Kazimir's papa turns away from her and heads down the corridor in heavy steps, the same corridor Kazimir takes daily to see me.
The images disappear and they are never long enough. I miss Mama already and want—need—more. “Mama?” I call out in a faint cry that only I hear before I'm alone for hours in my cell to contemplate her words. She doesn't want me to make the same mistakes she did? I can't help but wonder what she meant. To not pursue a rebellion against MAQS? To not try to escape? Or to fail doing so? She could have meant one thing or its opposite, though I'm sure MAQS picked that particular recording just for me, for me to believe Mama wanted me to quit fighting for freedom. But I can't believe that, because if anyone wanted freedom more, it was the leader of the rebel group Freedom. It was Mama.
