67

　　• Silo 18 •

　　Lukas sat with his mother on the thick jamb of the open server-room door. He looked down at herhands, both of them wrapped around one of his. She let go with one of them and picked a piece of lintoff his shoulder, then cast the offending knot of string away from her precious son.

　　“And you say there’ll be a promotion¹ in this?” she asked, smoothing the shoulder of hisundershirt.

　　Lukas nodded. “A pretty big one, yeah.” He looked past her to where Bernard and Sheriff Billingswere standing² in the hallway, talking in low voices. Bernard had his hands tucked inside the stretchedbelly of his overalls³. Billings looked down and inspected his gun.

　　“Well, that’s great, sweetheart. It makes it easier to bear you being away.”

　　“It won’t be for much longer, I don’t think.”

　　“Will you be able to vote? I can’t believe my boy is doing such important things!”

　　Lukas turned to her. “Vote? I thought the election was put off.”

　　She shook her head. Her face seemed more wrinkled than it had a month ago, her hair whiter.

　　Lukas wondered if that was possible in so brief a time.

　　“It’s back on,” she said. “This nasty business with those rebels is supposed to be just about over.”

　　Lukas glanced toward Bernard and the sheriff. “I’m sure they’ll figure out a way to let me vote,”

　　he told his mother.

　　“Well, that’s nice. I like to think I raised you proper.” She cleared her throat into her fist, thenreturned it to the back of his hand. “And they’re feeding you? With the rationing⁴, I mean.”

　　“More than I can eat.”

　　Her eyes widened. “So I suppose there’ll be some sort of a raise … ?”

　　He shrugged⁵. “I’m not sure. I’d think so. And look, you’ll be taken care of—”

　　“Me?” She pressed her hand to her chest, her voice high. “Don’t you worry about me.”

　　“You know I do. Hey, look, Ma—I think our time’s up.” He nodded down the hallway. Bernardand Peter were heading toward them. “Looks like I’ve got to get back to work.”

　　“Oh. Well, of course.” She smoothed the front of her red overalls and allowed Lukas to help her toher feet. She puckered⁶ her lips, and he presented his cheek.

　　“My little boy,” she said, kissing him noisily and squeezing his arm. She stepped back and gazedup at him with pride. “You take good care of yourself.”

　　“I will, Ma.”

　　“Make sure you get plenty of exercise.”

　　“Ma, I will.”

　　Bernard stopped by their side, smiling at the exchange. Lukas’s mother turned and looked thesilo’s acting⁷ mayor up and down. She reached out and patted Bernard on his chest. “Thank you,” shesaid, her voice cracking.

　　“It’s been great to meet you, Mrs. Kyle.” Bernard took her hand and gestured toward Peter. “Thesheriff here will see you out.”

　　“Of course.” She turned one last time and waved at Lukas. He felt a little embarrassed but wavedback.

　　“Sweet lady,” Bernard said, watching them go. “She reminds me of my own mother.” He turnedto Lukas. “You ready?”

　　Lukas felt like voicing his reluctance⁸, his hesitation⁹. He felt like saying, I suppose, but hestraightened his back instead, rubbed his damp palms together, and dipped his chin. “Absolutely,” hemanaged to say, feigning¹⁰ a confidence he didn’t feel.

　　“Great. Let’s go make this official.” He squeezed Lukas’s shoulder before heading into the serverroom. Lukas walked around the edge of the thick door and leaned into it, slowly sealing himself in asthe fat hinges groaned¹¹ shut. The electric locks engaged automatically, thumping¹² into the jamb. Thesecurity panel beeped, its happy green light flicking¹³ over to the menacing red eye of a sentry¹⁴.

　　Lukas took a deep breath and picked his way through the servers. He tried not to go the same wayas Bernard, tried never to go the same way twice. He chose a longer route just to break the monotony,to have one less routine in that prison.

　　Bernard had the back of the server open by the time he arrived. He held the familiar headphonesout to Lukas.

　　Lukas accepted them and put them on backward, the microphone snaking around the rear of hisneck.

　　“Like this?”

　　Bernard laughed at him and twirled his finger. “Other way around,” he said, lifting his voice soLukas could hear through the muffs.

　　Lukas fumbled¹⁵ with the headphones, tangling¹⁶ his arm in the cord. Bernard waited patiently.

　　“Are you ready?” Bernard asked, once they were in place. He held the loose jack¹⁷ in one hand.

　　Lukas nodded. He watched Bernard turn and aim the plug at the banks of receptacles. He picturedBernard’s hand swinging down and to the right, slamming the plug home into number seventeen,then turning and confronting Lukas about his favorite pastime, his secret crush …But his boss’s small hand never wavered; it clicked into place, Lukas knowing exactly how thatfelt, how the receptacle hugged the plug tightly, seemed to welcome it in, the pads of one’s fingersgetting a jolt¹⁹ from the flicking of that spring-loaded plastic retainer—The light above the jack started blinking. A familiar buzzing throbbed²⁰ in Lukas’s ears. He waitedfor her voice, for Juliette to answer.

　　A click.

　　“Name.”

　　A thrill of fear ran up Lukas’s back, bumps erupting across his arms. The voice, deep and hollow,impatient and aloof²¹, came and went like a glimpse of a star. Lukas licked his lips.

　　“Lukas Kyle,” he said, trying not to stammer²².

　　There was a pause. He imagined someone, somewhere, writing this down or flipping²³ through filesor doing something awful with the information. The temperature behind the server soared. Bernardwas smiling at him, oblivious²⁴ to the silence on his end.

　　“You shadowed in IT.”

　　It felt like a statement, but Lukas nodded and answered. “Yessir.”

　　He wiped his palm across his forehead and then the seat of his overalls. He desperately²⁵ wanted tosit down, to lean back against server number forty, to relax. But Bernard was smiling at him, hismustache lifting, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

　　“What is your primary duty to the silo?”

　　Bernard had prepped him on likely questions.

　　“To maintain the Order.”

　　Silence. No feedback, no sense if he was right or wrong.

　　“What do you protect above all?”

　　The voice was flat and yet powerfully serious. Dire²⁷ and somehow calm. Lukas felt his mouth godry.

　　“Life and Legacy²⁸,” he recited. But it felt wrong, this rote²⁶ fa?ade of knowledge. He wanted to gointo detail, to let this voice, like a strong and sober father, understand that he knew why this wasimportant. He wasn’t dumb. He had more to say than memorized facts—“What does it take to protect these things we hold so dear?”

　　He paused.

　　“It takes sacrifice,” Lukas whispered. He thought of Juliette—and the calm demeanor²⁹ he wasprojecting for Bernard nearly crumbled³⁰. There were some things he wasn’t sure about, things hedidn’t understand. This was one of them. It felt like a lie, his answer. He wasn’t sure the sacrifice wasworth it, the danger so great that they had to let people, good people, go to their—“How much time have you had in the Suit Labs?”

　　The voice had changed, relaxed somewhat. Lukas wondered if the ceremony was over. Was thatit? Had he passed? He blew out his held breath, hoping the microphone didn’t pick it up, and tried torelax.

　　“Not much, sir. Bernar— Uh, my boss, he’s wanting me to schedule time in the labs after, youknow …”

　　He looked to Bernard, who was pinching one side of his glasses and watching him.

　　“Yes. I do know. How is that problem in your lower levels going?”

　　“Um, well, I’m only kept apprised³¹ of the overall progress, and it sounds good.” He cleared histhroat and thought of all the sounds of gunfire and violence he’d heard through the radio in the roombelow. “That is, it sounds like progress is being made, that it won’t be much longer.”

　　A long pause. Lukas forced himself to breathe deeply, to smile at Bernard.

　　“Would you have done anything differently, Lukas? From the beginning?”

　　Lukas felt his body sway, his knees go a little numb¹⁸. He was back on that conference table, blacksteel pressed against his cheek, a line from his eye extending through a small cross, through a tinyhole, pointing like a laser at a small woman with white hair and a bomb in her hand. Bullets wereflying down that line. His bullets.

　　“Nosir,” he finally said. “It was all by the Order, sir. Everything’s under control.”

　　He waited. Somewhere, he felt, his measure was being taken.

　　“You are next in line for the control and operation of silo eighteen,” the voice intoned.

　　“Thank you, sir.”

　　Lukas reached for the headphones, was preparing to take them off and hand them to Bernard incase he needed to say something, to hear that it was official.

　　“Do you know the worst part of my job?” the hollow voice asked.

　　Lukas dropped his hands.

　　“What’s that, sir?”

　　“Standing here, looking at a silo on this map, and drawing a red cross through it. Can you imaginewhat that feels like?”

　　Lukas shook his head. “I can’t, sir.”

　　“It feels like a parent losing thousands of children, all at once.”

　　A pause.

　　“You will have to be cruel to your children so as not to lose them.”

　　Lukas thought of his father.

　　“Yessir.”

　　“Welcome to Operation Fifty of the World Order, Lukas Kyle. Now, if you have a question ortwo, I have the time to answer, but briefly³².”

　　Lukas wanted to say that he had no questions; he wanted to get off the line; he wanted to call andspeak with Juliette, to feel a puff³³ of sanity³⁴ breathed into this crazy and suffocating³⁵ room. But heremembered what Bernard had taught him about admitting ignorance, how this was the key toknowledge.

　　“Just one, sir. And I’ve been told it isn’t important, and I understand why that’s true, but I believeit will make my job here easier if I know.”

　　He paused for a response, but the voice seemed to be waiting for him to get to the question.

　　Lukas cleared his throat. “Is there … ?” He pinched the mic and moved it closer to his lips,glanced at Bernard. “How did this all begin?”

　　He wasn’t sure—it could have been a fan on the server whirring to life—but he thought he heardthe man with the deep voice sigh.

　　“How badly do you wish to know?”

　　Lukas feared answering this question honestly. “It isn’t crucial,” he said, “but I would appreciate asense of what we’re accomplishing, what we survived. It feels like it gives me—gives us a purpose,you know?”

　　“The reason is the purpose,” the man said cryptically³⁶. “Before I tell you, I’d like to hear what youthink.”

　　Lukas swallowed. “What I think?”

　　“Everyone has ideas. Are you suggesting you don’t?”

　　A hint of humor could be heard in that hollow voice.

　　“I think it was something we saw coming,” Lukas said. He watched Bernard, who frowned andlooked away.

　　“That’s one possibility.”

　　Bernard removed his glasses and began wiping them on the sleeve of his undershirt, his eyes at hisfeet.

　　“Consider this …” The deep voice paused. “What if I told you that there were only fifty silos in allthe world, and that here we are in this infinitely³⁷ small corner of it.”

　　Lukas thought about this. It felt like another test.

　　“I would say that we were the only ones …” He almost said that they were the only ones with theresources, but he’d seen enough in the Legacy to know this wasn’t true. Many parts of the world hadbuildings rising above their hills. Many more could have been prepared. “I’d say we were the onlyones who knew,” Lukas suggested.

　　“Very good. And why might that be?”

　　He hated this. He didn’t want to puzzle it out, he just wanted to be told.

　　And then, like a cable splicing³⁸ together, like electricity zipping through connections for the veryfirst time, the truth hit him.

　　“It’s because …” He tried to make sense of this answer in his head, tried to imagine that such anidea could possibly verge³⁹ on truth. “It’s not because we knew,” Lukas said, sucking in a gasp⁴⁰ of air.

　　“It’s because we did it.”

　　“Yes,” the voice said. “And now you know.”

　　He said something else, just barely audible, like it was being said to someone else. “Our time isup, Lukas Kyle. Congratulations on your assignment.”

　　The headphones were sticky against his head, his face clammy with sweat.

　　“Thank you,” he managed to say.

　　“Oh, and Lukas?”

　　“Yessir?”

　　“Going forward, I suggest you concentrate on what’s beneath your feet. No more of this businesswith the stars, okay, son? We know where most of them are.”

 

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