Sanctuary Read online

  I wonder what this is all about. Aiken claims a chair in the set closest to mine, and keeps his eyes locked on me, filled with something like regret.

  I look away. If he regrets his decision to come, that’s his own fault, not mine.

  “You’re all about to meet your partners,” Hattie informs us. “They want to really get to know you—to really understand you. That is the key to the success of the program.”

  Hattie opens the door, and people start to file in. We’ve clearly been pre-assigned specific partners, because the newcomers meander around the room, looking at our faces and only claiming a seat when they’ve found their specific mark. Girls are matched with girls, boys with boys.

  It seems strange that I don’t recognize any of these people, even though many of them appear to be pretty close to my own age, so I should know them from school. Even the program participants that I don’t know well are recognizable as faces I’ve seen around the city. But these new people are all total strangers to me, and I wonder how that can even be possible in a place like Sanctuary—a closed system where no one comes or goes.

  The girl who takes the seat next to me is wearing a simple white dress. She has a face that’s not particularly pretty or ugly. In fact, it’s a bit startling and disconcerting just exactly how average she looks. I try not to stare as she introduces herself.

  “Hello, I’m Darla. I will be your partner throughout this process.”

  “Hi, I’m Mara Oborn,” I say.

  “Yes, I know. I’m very pleased to meet you.” Something is off about the way she speaks, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.

  “So what do we do now?” I ask, unsure.

  “Today is just for getting to know each other. We can stay here and talk, or we could go outside.”

  “Can we go somewhere else in the city?” I ask, hopeful. If she wants to really get to know me, then what better way than meeting my parents?

  “Oh, we can’t leave the Governor’s House, except to go to the gardens,” she says sounding genuinely regretful.

  I figured as much, but it was worth a try.

  I glance around; some people are talking, others are already getting up and walking out with their new friends. Aiken has remained in his seat. I can’t see the face of his partner, but it looks like they’re already getting along quite well. Of course, I would expect no less of him.

  “Okay, why don’t we go for a walk?” I suggest.

  “Where would you like to go?”

  “I guess the gardens would be nice. Do you know the way?” At least there, we won’t have many spectators.

  Darla stands and takes off walking at a brisk pace. I find myself doing an awkward half-walk, half-jog to keep up.

  “Is this pace uncomfortable?” she asks.

  “It’s a little fast,” I admit.

  She slows as we walk outside. The gardens, as it turns out, are located in an atrium at the center of the Governor’s House, so although we’re outdoors, exposed to soft skylight, we’re no freer here than anywhere else in the house.

  We walk along a path lined with red and blue flowers. Neither of us speak, and it isn’t long before the silence becomes oppressive.

  “So…” I say, not sure what we’re supposed to be talking about. “What’s this all about? They said we’re partners. Are we going to be working together? I mean, is this some kind of a group test, and we either pass or fail as a team?”

  “Oh, no. I’m not being evaluated,” she says. “I’m the one who will be evaluating you.”

  I stiffen slightly at this revelation. I wish Hattie would have mentioned that fact. I’ve probably already made about ten mistakes. Should we have stayed in the room? I probably haven’t been very friendly. I shouldn’t have stared at her. And I never should have admitted that I didn’t know where the gardens are, and I shouldn’t have complained that she was walking too fast.

  I focus on keeping my breaths coming steady. I don’t want her to know I’m nervous. I should have watched Aiken. He’s getting everything right, I’m sure of that.

  She’s watching me, but not saying anything. I guess I’m supposed to lead the conversation, but I’m terrified I’ll say the wrong thing and ruin everything. I take a deep breath and try to think of this like an algorithm. If I were trying to program something to, for example, choose me as the ideal explorer, what inputs would I give it?

  If Darla’s trying to see if I’ll be useful on an exploration team, I probably need to show her what I know about the natural world. The gardens seem like a good place to do that. I spend the morning pointing out every species of plant, and divulging everything I know about their potential uses for survival.

  She listens intently to everything I say, and keeps asking questions about what my opinions of the various plants are—do I like the colors, what scent is my favorite, have I ever grown any plants myself. By the time we’re done, I’m sneezing from having inhaled more pollen in one morning than I probably have in my entire lifetime put together. At least all the flowers that the Governor keeps in his garden are fragrant and delicious smelling—none of the stinky weeds that pop up in the fields and constantly have to be culled.

  We spend the afternoon in the room with chairs, and she asks me questions about my childhood. I try to be carefully evasive while appearing to be open and forthcoming. It’s a difficult line to walk.

  As much as possible, I try to turn the questions back on her, but she’s got evasion and redirection down to an art. After a full day together, I’ve learned exactly nothing about Darla and haven’t the slightest clue as to what she thinks of me.

  Chapter 5

  That evening, in the hallway outside the dining room, Toren is waiting. Not for me, specifically, just for anyone who will listen.

  “Hey, Mara,” he whispers.

  I stop, sure that whatever follows will help me get my mind off my worries, and probably give me a good laugh as well.

  “Listen, we have a problem. I knew I needed to keep a close eye on things. I trust the Governor about as much as I trust the Withers not to melt your guts.”

  His morbid analogy makes me shudder. “Yes, I think you’ve made that very clear.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here. Nothing they’ve told us so far is true.” He grabs my arm and pulls me closer, his dark eyes darting around as though he suspects someone is watching.

  “What makes you say that?” I can’t resist asking.

  “Tell me, have you ever seen any of these evaluators before?” he whispers.

  I glance around nervously, worried that one of them might overhear, but I don’t see a single one of them anywhere. They must be having their dinner separate from us.

  “No, I can’t say that I do recognize any of them,” I admit uneasily, and I can’t suppress my desire to know what could possibly explain this—even if Toren is bound to have gotten it wrong.

  Toren stays silent as two members of the food staff pass by and enter the dining hall. I’m surprised he doesn’t try to drag them into the conversation, but maybe he thinks they’re in on whatever plot he’s sure is going on. “That’s because they aren’t from Sanctuary,” he says when no one else can hear. “Who better to lead a team to the outside than people from beyond the barrier field?”

  “You think the Governor has already found people living outside and brought them in?” I ask, incredulous. “That’s far too big a risk. What if they have the Withers, or some other new disease? He wouldn’t risk infecting Sanctuary.”

  “It explains where the Governor’s been. He disappears from public for two whole months, and then suddenly he’s announcing the most shocking course of action since the inception of Sanctuary. It only makes sense if he was actually the first to leave Sanctuary, and he brought these people back with him,” Toren says.

  I have to admit—at least to myself—that he makes some interesting points. Who are these people? I thought that maybe I just hadn’t b
een paying attention and hadn’t noticed them before, but clearly I’m not the only one who doesn’t recognize them. And why would the Governor trust them with our evaluations if they didn’t have some kind of special knowledge about what we’ll face on the outside?

  “It’s an intriguing theory,” is all I commit to out loud. After all, the fact that Toren is proposing this explanation may be the biggest argument against it. He’s always got a theory—and he’s always wrong.

  But still, something is going on. I need to figure out who Darla really is if I’m to have any hope of impressing her. Anxiety twists my stomach into knots, and I lose my appetite. Instead of going to dinner, I meander down the hallway and soon find myself in the gardens again. I’m so lost in thought that I don’t notice the boy next to the tree until it’s too late.

  “Mara,” Aiken says stiffly, standing up straighter. I’ve never felt this awkward tension between us—not even when we’ve fought, which we certainly have done plenty of over the years.

  “Aiken,” I reply, just as aloof.

  He shakes his head, frustrated. “Can we talk?”

  My first reaction is to refuse, but he looks so tortured that I can’t bring myself to say anything except, “Sure.”

  I follow him along a path to a cozy little bench tucked in the far corner, surrounded by vines, heavy with white flowers. We sit in silence for several minutes. Even though he’s the one who asked to talk, he seems to be searching for words and says nothing. I’ve never seen him so distracted and tongue-tied before.

  “Aiken,” I finally say, and I feel his penetrating gaze on me, even though I can’t bring myself to look at him. “Why did you really join? Just be honest.”

  “You really don’t know?” His voice sounds wounded.

  “No,” I admit. “I mean, you had a great Duty assignment. You weren’t unhappy in Sanctuary. Do you even want to go exploring?”

  “Mara.” He waits until the tension in the air forces me to look at him. “I came for you.”

  My breath hitches, like the air has suddenly become thick and laden with something so sweet and fragrant it’s hard to take in. The ground beneath me seems to sway. I bring my hand up and grasp a handful of hair that cascades across my shoulder just to have something to hold on to. “Because you thought I couldn’t make it on my own?” I ask, but with none of the bite of our earlier conversation. I know what he means, but I can’t believe it until I force him to say it out loud.

  “I’ve lived twenty yards away from you my whole life, Mara. I’ve seen you every day. I’ve loved you since the very first time you reprogrammed my food dispenser to turn our vegetables into ice cream—I’m still not sure how you managed that, by the way.”

  I roll my eyes. It wasn’t really ice cream, but I did rearrange the molecules in the food to turn more of them to sugar. It’s not such a hard trick when you consider how much of all food is made up of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen, which are the components of sugar. Then it’s just a simple matter of freezing it.

  “I was happy in Sanctuary, but not for the reasons you probably thought. I was happy because I was with you.” He reaches a hand toward me like he’s about to stroke my cheek, but then lets it fall, leaving me wanting his touch. “And the thought that you could leave and I’d never see you again, or that you might come back changed somehow…“ He grabs my shoulders, seemingly unable to restrain himself, and his expression is so intense that I think he’s about to shake me. I’m completely taken off guard when he leans forward and kisses me right on the lips—something he’s never done before.

  When he releases me, I feel dizzy and confused. If I said that I’ve never thought about kissing Aiken, I would be lying. But I never guessed that he actually wanted to kiss me, too. Oh, and the real experience was so much better than I’ve ever imagined.

  “The minute I found out you were gone, and that I might never see you again, I knew I’d never belong in Sanctuary—not without you.”

  “But do you even want to be selected to be an explorer?” I can’t help asking, guilt welling up like bile in the back of my throat.

  “Why not?” he says, his voice vibrant and fearless. “If that’s what you want, then let’s do it. As long as we’re together, we’ll have everything we could ever need.”

  In that moment, a picture begins to form in my mind, so beautiful and magical that I know I’ll never be satisfied with anything less. I see Aiken and me together, building a home in a place far away from here, where life can be full of messy mistakes and boundless possibilities. The image of the setting keeps shifting because I don’t know what the world beyond looks like exactly. But I know that out there, somewhere, is where our life is meant to be, and I will do anything for that.

  Getting out of Sanctuary with Aiken is the one thing I absolutely must not fail at.

  Chapter 6

  The next day, the light that streams through my bedroom window seems brighter and richer, somehow. My whole body feels light and charged, as though an electric current is running through me, and the sensation is intoxicating. I feel like I’m in a dream I never want to wake from.

  I’ve sat next to Aiken so many times in my life, shared meals with him, talked and laughed with him. But today, it all feels new and fresh and thrilling. Simple things like the way he takes my hand as we walk, and the casual way we rub shoulders as we sit next to each other, feel completely new.

  But unfortunately, this place isn’t for romance, it’s a testing ground. Shortly after breakfast, we’re forced to part. The first order of the day is a battery of extensive medical tests. We are each poked and prodded for samples of our blood, hair, skin, saliva, and anything else they can manage to get into a test tube. Then there’s another round of brain scans. That fills the entire morning.

  After lunch, Darla meets me and takes me to an empty room about the size of a small bedroom—no windows, no furniture, nothing but the bare white walls, the white carpet floor, and the door through which we just entered.

  “What are we going to do here?” I wonder aloud.

  “Just a moment,” Darla says, pulling a small tablet from her pocket and tapping a few buttons. Suddenly, the room transforms from an empty space to a library with thousands of books populating the walls.

  “What happened?” I stammer in surprise.

  “It’s just a projection,” she explains.

  I walk to the nearest shelf and pick up a book. I weigh it in my hands and slide my fingertips over the smooth paper cover. “Not just a projection,” I contradict.

  “The projections are wrapped around—”

  “Barrier fields!” I say, cutting her off enthusiastically as the answer dawns on me. Of course, if we can make an electromagnetic barrier dome to protect Sanctuary, why couldn’t we use the same technology to make other structures and objects?

  I had no idea the technology was so advanced as all this, and the possibilities and ramifications send my mind spinning. With this technology, Sanctuary could have anything and be anything—maybe that’s already how we built such an amazing society from the ashes of post-apocalyptic ruin. But I quickly reel in my thoughts; I need to stay focused on impressing Darla, not on my worthless love of technology.

  “Exactly,” she confirms. “I’m surprised you understood so quickly.”

  “Oh, just a good guess,” I say, brushing it off. “So, what are we going to do here? Am I supposed to study some of these books?”

  “No, I just want you to look around the room. If you could take only three books with you on your expedition, which would you choose?”

  I stiffen at this. It’s such a simple question, but there are so many books, and I’m sure she’s looking for something specific. I turn over the book I’m holding and find it’s a volume of futuristic fiction—stories of how the pre-Withers dreamers imagined the future would be. My heart leaps, but I carefully control my expression so I don’t betray my interest. This book won’t be very useful on an expeditio
n, and it’s also not very conducive to showing how realistic and pragmatic I am—or am trying to appear. No, this will never work.

  Confidently, I replace the book on the shelf and begin to survey the room, reading the spines as I walk. Every possible subject matter is represented. I move slowly, considering carefully. I can feel Darla’s gaze on me, and I don’t want her to think I’m not taking this seriously. She stands quietly observing from the center of the room, patiently waiting. It occurs to me that taking too long might make me look indecisive. I pick up the pace, trying to decipher what Darla is looking for. She gives nothing away in her words, stance, or expression.

  Finally, I settle on a book detailing the uses of wild plants, a manual of wilderness survival skills, and Sanctuary Protocol—a book containing all the rules, regulations, and procedures that make Sanctuary the haven it is. When I present them to Darla, she takes them and spends a moment flipping through each one in turn.

  “Interesting,” she says. “These aren’t the books I would have guessed based on your profile and history.” I smile at that. My profile would be based on my schooling and my many failures, so I’m glad to find that I’ve successfully departed from my past. “Can you explain why you chose these books in particular out of the entire library?”

  “Well, the two books about plants and wilderness survival will help us because we don’t know exactly what we’ll face on the outside, and these were written before the Withers by people who lived out in the wild. It’s like having a guide with us from decades ago.” She nods approvingly. “And Sanctuary is, of course, the epitome of human civilization, so if we do find other people, we should be prepared to help them create the same kind of wonderful society we have here,” I explain. Of course, if there is anyone out there, I don’t really think we should make everyone live like us, but I’m sure this is what Governor Hydes and the evaluators must want to hear, and so I say it.