he enjoyed as a boy.
Berk drew his eyebrows together. “No. A battleship, actually.”
“But you said it was a boat.”
“Boats and ships are similar.”
“Oh.” I am not sure I understand, but I do understand from his tone that this particular line of communication is irrelevant.
“What else?”
“I thought I would be hurt by the people on the other boat.”
“Did you want to hurt them?”
“What?”
“Did you think about looking around your boat for something that could hurt the people on the other ship?”
I don’t comprehend this question. Why would I want to hurt someone? Berk’s mouth tips upward slightly and he moves on, asking me about the city again, the old man, the smells. He keeps asking me what I was feeling. I suppose the cube can only record so much data. It cannot determine how I feel. I am relieved to know that.
And then we are finished. He shuts down his pad and stands. I follow. We leave the room, but instead of turning right toward my room, Berk turns left. He doesn’t say anything. Neither do I. I just follow. He opens a door that leads to a stairwell. I have only traveled by elevator in this building. The stairs look even older than the rest of the building. They aren’t as clean. The paint on the walls seems dull and there are scuff marks on the floor.
Berk turns and almost runs right into me. He is standing just inches away. I smell the soap on his skin. I see where the beginnings of facial hair are standing out on his chin and his upper lip.
“We don’t have much time.” Berk speaks so quietly I barely hear him.
“Time for what?”
“There are cameras and microphones everywhere. We are being watched closely.”
“But not here?”
“No.” Berk is still whispering. “But we can’t stay here very long.”
“All right.” Berk is still close. So close it is hard to think clearly. “What is this all about? The cube and the images?”
Berk looks at me, his eyes saying something I do not quite understand. But whatever it is makes my heart beat faster. “I can’t explain right now. You answered well. Keep doing that. Go along with the simulations. Be honest in your evaluations.”
“I want to help you succeed in your project.”
Berk’s hands come to my shoulders. He pulls me close and wraps his arms around me, holding me so tight I can barely breathe. But I don’t care. This is the most wonderful feeling I have ever experienced. My head reaches his chest, and I can hear his heart beating. It is beating fast, like mine. He leans his head down, and I feel his breath in my ear, the stubble of his cheek on my cheek. “You are not a project, Thalli.”
He pulls away, and I want to pull him back in. I want to stay like this. But he is opening the door, looking out into the corridor, motioning me to follow him back to my room.
And we walk back the way we came. I stare ahead at Berk. I am memorizing everything about him. The way he walks, the way his hair curls over the collar of his white jacket. Too soon, he stops.
“Thank you for your cooperation.” He opens the door for me to walk into my room. And then he is gone.
I go to my sleeping platform and lie down. I close my eyes and relive that moment in the stairwell. Feel his arms around me, his whiskered face at my ear. I dream of gardens and birds and Berk.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I wake up thinking of John and Amy. And love. I try not to think of Berk and Thalli and love. That is too ridiculous. Primitive. And pointless. As much as I would like to believe otherwise, I know I am scheduled for annihilation. Berk is simply prolonging the inevitable. Because we are friends.
But he doesn’t feel like a friend. I have many friends. Rhen, Lute, Gen. All of Pod C. But I don’t want those friends to hold me like Berk held me. I don’t think about those friends far into the night. I don’t crave to be near those friends like I crave to be around Berk.
I expel all the air in my lungs. I need Rhen right now. What
Berk drew his eyebrows together. “No. A battleship, actually.”
“But you said it was a boat.”
“Boats and ships are similar.”
“Oh.” I am not sure I understand, but I do understand from his tone that this particular line of communication is irrelevant.
“What else?”
“I thought I would be hurt by the people on the other boat.”
“Did you want to hurt them?”
“What?”
“Did you think about looking around your boat for something that could hurt the people on the other ship?”
I don’t comprehend this question. Why would I want to hurt someone? Berk’s mouth tips upward slightly and he moves on, asking me about the city again, the old man, the smells. He keeps asking me what I was feeling. I suppose the cube can only record so much data. It cannot determine how I feel. I am relieved to know that.
And then we are finished. He shuts down his pad and stands. I follow. We leave the room, but instead of turning right toward my room, Berk turns left. He doesn’t say anything. Neither do I. I just follow. He opens a door that leads to a stairwell. I have only traveled by elevator in this building. The stairs look even older than the rest of the building. They aren’t as clean. The paint on the walls seems dull and there are scuff marks on the floor.
Berk turns and almost runs right into me. He is standing just inches away. I smell the soap on his skin. I see where the beginnings of facial hair are standing out on his chin and his upper lip.
“We don’t have much time.” Berk speaks so quietly I barely hear him.
“Time for what?”
“There are cameras and microphones everywhere. We are being watched closely.”
“But not here?”
“No.” Berk is still whispering. “But we can’t stay here very long.”
“All right.” Berk is still close. So close it is hard to think clearly. “What is this all about? The cube and the images?”
Berk looks at me, his eyes saying something I do not quite understand. But whatever it is makes my heart beat faster. “I can’t explain right now. You answered well. Keep doing that. Go along with the simulations. Be honest in your evaluations.”
“I want to help you succeed in your project.”
Berk’s hands come to my shoulders. He pulls me close and wraps his arms around me, holding me so tight I can barely breathe. But I don’t care. This is the most wonderful feeling I have ever experienced. My head reaches his chest, and I can hear his heart beating. It is beating fast, like mine. He leans his head down, and I feel his breath in my ear, the stubble of his cheek on my cheek. “You are not a project, Thalli.”
He pulls away, and I want to pull him back in. I want to stay like this. But he is opening the door, looking out into the corridor, motioning me to follow him back to my room.
And we walk back the way we came. I stare ahead at Berk. I am memorizing everything about him. The way he walks, the way his hair curls over the collar of his white jacket. Too soon, he stops.
“Thank you for your cooperation.” He opens the door for me to walk into my room. And then he is gone.
I go to my sleeping platform and lie down. I close my eyes and relive that moment in the stairwell. Feel his arms around me, his whiskered face at my ear. I dream of gardens and birds and Berk.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I wake up thinking of John and Amy. And love. I try not to think of Berk and Thalli and love. That is too ridiculous. Primitive. And pointless. As much as I would like to believe otherwise, I know I am scheduled for annihilation. Berk is simply prolonging the inevitable. Because we are friends.
But he doesn’t feel like a friend. I have many friends. Rhen, Lute, Gen. All of Pod C. But I don’t want those friends to hold me like Berk held me. I don’t think about those friends far into the night. I don’t crave to be near those friends like I crave to be around Berk.
I expel all the air in my lungs. I need Rhen right now. What
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