Quantum State, page 8
“Don't think like that. You couldn't have possibly known. Besides, we'll figure out another way into town hall.”
“You mean blow it up like the Freedom rebels?”
He shakes his head. “No, we'll find a way that will honor your mama. Somehow we'll get in with no violence.”
“So, let me get this straight. We need to steal the key back—like my mama must have done the first time—figure out what's underneath town hall, expose MAQS for the fraud she is, and sneak out of Cherni all before I turn eighteen and have to marry Kazimir when I'll be forced to live happily ever after?” I say this in one breath and a wink in my eye.
Esfir's grin widens as his chest puffs and his long arms engulf me. “We've done harder things,” he says while laughing, and I'm tempted to laugh myself. “Besides, I've been casing the borders of Cherni for a while now, and I think I've finally found a weakness in the wall.”
“You have?”
“Yeah, the west wall is broken at the right corner. Something crushed it. The hole has been covered up with a grassy patch.”
My quizzical expression draws close to him where I can see the spotty freckles splashed over his nose. “Really? Who would have covered it up?” I say, curious and grasping at the thread of hope, because maybe we now have a way out.
“I don't know.” Esfir shrugs.
“Do you think?” I shake my head.
“What? Just say it?” Esfir presses.
“Do you think that the non-citizen might have done it?” My brows crinkle. “I mean, if he is not allowed in here and yet he is, then he must have gotten in somehow?”
Esfir shrugs again. “Maybe.”
“Well, however the hole got there, I say we dart for the west when we can.”
“It's a deal.” Esfir grins.
After we finish the cookies, Esfir is about to leave and I haven't told him the biggest part of my revelations yet. So, I stop him at my bedroom door and cup my hand over his closer ear as he looks at me like he knows I'm about to drop a bomb, but he just stays quiet and lets me speak. “I haven't told you the biggest thing.”
“What? You can tell me anything.” He stares into my quiet eyes. “It's me, Esfir.”
I gulp. “Kazimir's papa is the Keeper who took Mama away.”
His hand hits his forehead before he rakes his lengthy fingers through his hair and sighs. “Oh, my God.”
“Yeah. How does MAQS match me with my enemy? What kind of stupid computer is she, anyway?!”
“The quantum kind.” Esfir reaches in and gives me a long hug. “Don't worry about all of this. I'll get you out of here. I promise.”
When Esfir promises, I believe him. He doesn't promise much. He promised once he'd get me a carrot cake for my birthday, and he did. He promised he'd get me books from his Pod so I could learn about atmospheric pressure and air, and he did. Even though he was caught stealing some of the books and spent a week of detention at the Pod. He promised he'd get me home safely the first time we went to the Cylindrical, and I got home. So, when he promises me that he'll get me out of Cherni, I believe him.
Esfir turns to the bedroom door and lets himself out. I see him to the front, knowing we won't have much time to talk until our Pods let out tomorrow around 3 p.m. “See you after Pod?” I ask.
“Definitely.”
“We'll have to work between three and eight if I don't want to end up permanently back in jail.”
“We'll get it done,” Esfir says, and then heads out just as my stepmum calls me into the house.
Diana's screechy voice irks me. “Don't you dare step foot out there. You're not allowed to leave unless you're performing your duty for Cherni.”
“I know, I know, Diana.”
“You can call me Mama, you know.” She huffs. “Gesh, I've only been taking care of you for the past eight years.”
“Whatever, Mama.” The word rings in my ear like a foul smell from rotten fruit, though I understand her point. I just…I just can't bear to call anyone but my real mat, Mama. I watch Esfir hop away from the house over pebbles and onto the sidewalk which he'll use to eventually end up back at his home.
After I close the door, I head to my room and am abruptly stopped by Papa. “So, you and this Esfir kid, this isn't a 'thing' between you two, right?” Papa steps to put his foot between me and my bedroom door. “We discussed this when you were ten, and you started hanging around Esfir more.”
“I know, Papa. It's not.”
“It better not be. You are assigned to Kazimir, and while our traditions in Cherni might not suit you, they are our traditions, MAQS' traditions, and they are to be honored.”
“I know.” I defend. “Esfir and I are just friends. That's all.” I rest my warm palm over his hairy forearm, remembering a conversation similar to this one when I turned fifteen. “We've been friends ever since I can remember. That's all.”
“You haven't done anything prohibited with this boy, have you?”
“Papa!” I cry, embarrassed; after all, I hate talking about my love life with my parents. “No,” I shake my head vehemently, “No. I promise.”
I didn't tell them about the time I kissed Nikolai behind the bushes when I was just nine, or the time I made out with Petya at my Pod when I was thirteen. He had to sneak out of his Pod a few blocks away just to see me. Of course, they never even knew I dated Rasputin at fourteen for a few months before the bots got suspicious enough for us to break it off.
But Esfir and I have just been friends, and maybe that's because Esfir respects me too much to make me break a tradition of Cherni. At least, up until recently.
Dating is not really permitted, MAQS frowns upon physical intimacy until marriage. Something about stability in marriage and not having conflicting feelings for another. She wants us to be dedicated to the spouse she chooses for us, for the life she chooses for us.
Still, bots will tolerate occasional kissing. After all, teenagers are just raging hormones. So, most teenagers don't follow this rule— this prohibition of dating—and MAQS doesn't enforce punishment too much with the issue, so long as the relationships are fleeting and don't last too long. Many kids at the Pods still date, but mostly in secret.
My papa follows me as my face turns tomato red in a quick walk toward my room. “So, are you going to answer me?”
“Answer you about what? We're friends. That's all. I told you everything.”
“Well, it had better stay that way. You know you're assigned to Kazimir and, well, I can't tell you how much this family needs that family.”
“I know. Your salvation from social death.”
Papa's head tilts toward me, his eyes more like a glare. “I wouldn't say it quite like that.”
“Then, how?” I really shouldn't let my mouth get the better of me.
“Well”—he squirms on his feet, shifting weight—“I'd say a pleasant change from all the rumors and gossip.” His forefinger goes up and shakes as he finishes, “And don't forget your stepmum is looking forward to this union, too.”
“How could I forget? Yesterday was so memorable, I don't think I could ever wash it out of memory. It's permanently stained there.”
Papa shakes his head, his irritated eyes shifting in a half roll. “Just get some rest. After Pod tomorrow, you have a date with Kazimir.”
My mouth falls ajar as I open my bedroom door and lock myself in, in hopes that I'll never have to leave again—except to escape with Esfir. Date?!
State of Panic
“Hey, eight more days till you're married to Kazimir!” Anna says excitedly from the back of the room inside Ascania Pod—my Pod. I roll my eyes at how fluidly news travels, and she responds, “What?”
“I don't even know him. Don't want to know him.” I gasp, feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. Every year, girls go off to be married to guys MAQS matches them with, to guys they hardly know. Sometimes families force the two to meet years before the courtship to have time to get to know one another, but not me. My mama made my papa promise to never make me do that if I didn't want to, and I had refused. After she was taken from us, Papa felt an obligation to keep his word to her. I never changed my mind, and so the few times Viktor might have called, my Papa must have refused him.
Not choosing who you are going to marry is tradition, normal; but nothing about it feels normal to me. It is not even the not knowing of the person that bothers me. It is the not choosing. No one should have to be forced into something they don't want to do, or be forced to love someone they don't.
Anna whips her long, blonde ponytail behind her and stands from our private reading session. The educatebot likes to break us up into groups of two. “That's what courtship is for,” Anna says in defense of the system—like most kids still attending the Pods would say. It's not until they graduate and marry when they start to feel the incessant discomfort, the black hole that has become their lives. Then, they start to ask important questions like, “Why are we all stuck inside of here?” and “Why can't I choose my own life and partner?”
Fortunately, Esfir and I blossomed young. I have my mama to thank for that, and Esfir…well, he was never much like anyone else anyway. In fact, he's the only one with red hair in his zone. Diana is maybe one of three in mine, and I think I've only ever met one other person with red hair outside of both our areas. His features are dissimilar too from the rest of Cherni. He's more lean than athletic and paler in color, too. I guess he gets these characteristics from his parents. Still, in a population of mostly brunettes and blondes, he does stick out at times, but I love him for that—because he is different.
The educatebot glares in our direction, its beady red eyes making eye contact with me, and I try to look away before the bot steps toward me. It always asks the weirdest things. I remember once when I was eight it asked me how I felt when I stubbed my toe after recess. If I felt pain or pleasure? When I was ten, it asked me how I felt about my Mama being taken away. I stayed silent. What could I say? Another time, the bot asked me to describe holding my breath. If it hurt? If I longed to breathe? I did my best, but descriptions aren't my forte, and why it needed to know about my breathing I still don't understand. I guess the bots are trying to figure us out—us humans.
Unfortunately, I'm not faster than the bot, and the beady red eyes fall on mine before I can glance back at my assignment. Seconds later, almost like it moved through thin air, it's standing over me to my side.
“How are you feeling today, Masha?” Its clanky voice only reminds me of how vastly different it is from us.
“I'm fine.” I briefly look to my educatebot and nod before returning my eyes below me, to my books. I feel safer there, inside the pages of my books where questions can't be asked.
“Surely, you are exuberant? When humans marry, they are very excited.” It says this like a fact, as if it somehow knows this—but it doesn't. Never could.
Excited? I can't get into a debate with one of those…things. So, I just nod. “Sure, exuberant.”
“MAQS says the human role is to procreate. This is why you marry.”
I shrug. I'm not sure I'm marriage material. That I have that special something that makes me want to stay in the same place with the same person year after year. Still, my parents were married. I've heard stories of their parents—my grandparents—marrying before they died at forty-five, the typical age of death in the district. Everyone inside of Cherni marries. That's just tradition; I know this. I'm just not sure I want it to be mine.
Besides, I can't really talk to my grandparents about how they felt about marriage or Cherni. Most grandparents are dead. People don't live past their forties here. I'm sure MAQS likes it that way. Doesn't give us much to go on in terms of first-hand experiences with the system. MAQS can come up with any story she wants. People marry at eighteen and then are visited my bots. Soon after they have children. By the time the children have children of their own, the grandparents are nearly dead.
My parents are hardly the poster couple for marriage, with my mama being dragged off by MAQS's policebots. So, marriage? Probably not in my cards.
The educatebot leans over me, its cold, metallic hand extending over my shoulder in an attempt to care, but all I feel is hard metal, because that is all she is. She couldn't possibly understand me—us—humans. “You will do fine, and bring more life to Cherni.” I nod as if I agree, and then the bot heads back to its desk.
Life? That's a loaded statement. I know the bot means children. I can hardly wrap my brain around marriage, let alone having children of my own.
Anna giggles, and we both know we have to get back to our reading. So, my nose dives inward toward the tattered pages. Books are limited, a rare commodity, so when you get to read, you are supposed to feel the envy of everyone and take the privilege seriously.
Our book is the story of Romeo and Juliet. It was written by a man named Shakespeare. Such a strange name. I've never heard of such a name, and the story is so foreign it might as well be about outer space. Since when do lovers fight against family and country to be together? Since when do they end their lives in a desperate attempt for each other? Romeo to Juliet while still on Earth, and Juliet to unite with Romeo on the other side. An odd story to match such an odd-sounding author. Nothing like that really exists. At least not inside of Cherni.
I've heard stories of girls going crazy over guys, guys they could never be with because MAQS declared them another marriage partner. Just last year, a student named Alexi was caught in an intimate position with a guy named Felids behind the Pod. They declared their love for each other and despite educatebots assigning them separate classrooms, they still found each other at lunch period every day.
Needless to say, the both of them spent a few days in jail for their disobedience. Most stories aren't as dramatic, though, because students don't want to risk their futures or because they trust MAQS enough to believe she knows what's best for them.
Not me.
Our reading session lasts an hour and then we are dismissed for lunch, where students finally have a chance to get into trouble. Bots stand outside the doors now, supervising because of what happened last year.
I've already had an hour of history, if you can call anything that comes out of that class real history, and an hour of chemistry. Our classes are all held in the same room with the same students and educatebot, but our partners vary.
I'm thankful for the time to get out of Pod and walk over the sand; to feel the sun, no matter how dim it is. I wonder if the sun will be like this everywhere, in another district, another country—a dismal shade of yellow-brown. One day, one day I'll know, and Esfir will be there beside me to experience it with me. If I could just get out of Cherni. The itch digs deeper.
My eyes follow the dim stained line of sun splashed over the sky, a kind of faded stroke of awful color on a canvas of watercolors, except all the colors are gray, black-purple, and dark blue. I let my eyes follow that stroke—that line—to where the park is, behind Romanov Pod, and watch the Cylindrical. I know there are more secrets inside the Cylindrical to uncover. Mama hid there after all, with her noncitizen and possibly even her rebel group Freedom, or at least all the evidence points to her doing that, and being there would make me feel that much closer to her like I did in the cell. Strange I feel that way, like she is haunting me—but I do. And maybe the secrets inside the Cylindrical that she left behind could help me and Esfir finally get out of here for good.
As I watch the Cylindrical, I take the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which Diana made for me, out of the brown paper bag and take a bite. Everyone brings lunches from home, just like on The Andy Griffith Show. I read once in a history book that Pods used to be called schools and they used to provide lunches for students. I can't even imagine what that would look like here…in Cherni. Our cafeteria is small since each Pod only holds about one hundred and ninety-two students. Full capacity is set at two hundred. And half of the students prefer to eat outside, so the cafeteria is rarely full. And Pod lunches? I wouldn't eat anything a bot fixed.
“Hey, Masha!” I hear Anna's honey-sweet voice call to me, and turn my head over my shoulder.
I give a quizzical look and take another bite of my sandwich. I want to get to my apple soon, a fruit not everyone is lucky enough to enjoy unless their parents are gardeners or harvesters.
“What are you doing way over here?” Anna asks. “We're all hanging out on the other side of the Pod.” She looks at me strangely every time I want to sit alone, as if there is some unspoken girl code about hanging out in a group with her.
I shrug. “I…I just want to be by myself, I guess.” Truth is, I know she'll want me to talk about Kazimir and marriage. Frankly, I want to mull over all of this on my own, to figure it out and not be bothered by all her gossip. She can be too catty for me. Still, there aren't too many girlfriends to choose from in Ascania Pod.
“Well, be alone later. I just heard that you'll be going on your first date with Kazimir after classes!”
Her excitement is sweet, just like her voice, and while well intentioned, I can't help but feel claustrophobic, like suddenly my whole life has become about Kazimir Evgeni Kuznetsov, when all I want to do is get out of here. Still, I have to acquiesce. If a vulgar man like Viktor can do it with my family, I can surely do it with my friends.
“Well, yeah,” I say with less enthusiasm than when I found out I'd have to write a ten-page book report last year for my educatebot on cooking. Maybe it was all that writing that made me burn my brownies?
“Then come on.” Anna's thin lips turn into a grin as she yanks my wrist and pulls me with her, and her ponytail flips in my face like a whip. Her long stride, a result of her long legs, keeps me running at a pace faster than hers until we hit the back of the Pod and her pointy chin aims at me. A few girls linger over the pebble pathway there, the way leading to the Pod's exit door, and stare at me in a few clasped giggles as I approach.
“These are my friends,” Anna explains. “This is Vera, Darya, and Inna.” Anna says each name quickly, and I can tell she wants to get back to the gossip about my upcoming marriage, but I'm not so sure how comfortable I feel talking about my life to them. I've seen Vera around Pod, but have never spoken to her. Thick glasses hide her otherwise large, chocolate-colored eyes, and she likes to keep her dark hair in a bob. She's shorter than all of us and doesn't say much, both of which makes me trust her more for some reason. I only speak to Darya when we have assignments together, which is only a couple of times a month, because other than that she doesn't like talking to the girl whose mama tried to escape Cherni. Besides, I don't care for Darya much. She's fake. Everything is about appearances with her which is why she changed her hairstyle to fit Anna's. To be honest, I didn't much like Anna either, but at least she was willing to do dares with me when we were younger. Now, she only cares about fitting in with the crowd.
