Limbo (The Last Humans Book 2) (5 page)

“Just go,” he says, suppressing a yawn of his own. “Go before you infect me with your yawning.”

He talks to me as we walk in the direction of the Dorm, and I give him sleepy, monosyllabic responses until he takes off for the soccer field.

I walk the rest of the way on my own, glad for the silence.

When I get into bed, I experience Oneness, which is extremely intense today. The pleasure in the beginning is almost painful. As I adjust to it, I feel the presence. Oddly, an unbidden vision of a surreal, pixie-haired goddess enters my consciousness. The presence is usually vague, just an ethereal sensation without a specific focal point. I don’t worry about the visage, though. I’ve heard of Youths describing this part of Oneness as speaking with angels or the gods of the ancients, though we all know that’s just an illusion.

The next step of Oneness is the unsolicited feeling of love and kindness toward everything and everyone, but I don’t get a chance to experience it as I fall deeply into sleep.

I
’m running
along the Great Wall of China. A moment later, I’m gazing up at the Empire State Building.

“Theo,” someone says, and I realize I was dreaming of pre-Goo times.

Reluctant to let go of the dream, I pretend I’m still sleeping.

“Dude.” The voice is louder. “You’re sleeping through Birth Day.”

I instantly open my eyes.

“You sleep too much,” Liam says, splashing some water from his cup onto my face. “Especially for someone who went to bed as early as you did.”

Wiping the water off my face, I look him over. Liam is dressed in a special Birth Day edition of clothes. They look more like an ancient outfit than our usual shapeless gray jumpsuit/scrubs. Everyone’s wearing clothes of varying colors and designs today. In Liam’s case, he’s dressed in green overalls, similar to what farmers used to wear.

“I had a cool dream,” I say. My voice is groggy from sleep, so I clear my throat. “I dreamed of places from pre-Armageddon times. There was no Goo, and I could walk or run in any direction for as long as I wanted.”

Liam waves at me dismissively and says, “Sounds like the beginning of Filomena’s class.”

I grimace. “No talk of Lectures today. We don’t get days off often enough for that.”

“Good thinking,” Liam says and extends his hand for a bar of Food.

I sit up in bed. “Dude, leave room for the ancient food they’ll have at the Fair.”

He stuffs his mouth with the Food bar and mumbles something that sounds like, “I don’t like that stuff.” He chews a little bit and adds, “It smells funny, and it’s hot to the touch.”

“That’s the point,” I say and get up. “It’s how food was, back in the day when it was ‘cooked.’”

I look down at my outfit. Unlike Liam’s green clothing, my clothes are predominately blue, reminding me of jeans. I’m also wearing a blue sleeveless t-shirt, which is a huge improvement over our usual clothing.

Liam uses my distraction to chew more of his Food and then says, “Still sounds like history. Maybe you should swing by Filomena’s booth.”

“Sure.” I roll my eyes. “Right after I stand on my head for a few hours.”

Liam grins. “I can stand on my head for twenty minutes.”

I don’t say anything; if I challenge his statement, he’ll actually do it to prove that he can. In many ways, Liam is the most immature Youth out of the batch of us turning twenty-four today. So instead of buying into his craziness, I say, “Ready to go?”

Without waiting for his reply, I hurry to the door. Then, without looking back, I make my way outside.

Okay, so maybe Liam’s immaturity has rubbed off on me.

When I exit, I see that everything is already set up.

I can hear at least two genres of music—classical and electronic. Large, colorful floats hang high in the air, right under the Dome, and brightly dressed Youths are walking around. The Institute grounds are covered with Birth Day paraphernalia, including a dance platform and food stalls. In the distance, the Adults have set up their career and hobby exhibitions, as usual.

“Are the glassblowers there?” Liam asks. His eyes are pinholes as he scans the distant region of the Fair.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m starving, so I’m starting my explorations with the food stalls.”

“See you later then,” Liam says and sprints away.

I walk leisurely, allowing my nose to carry me toward the smell of fried dough, which is one of the highlights of Birth Day. The Adults have recreated other ancient foods, such as French fries, pretzels, and popcorn, but fried dough is still my favorite to this day.

I wonder if there’ll be something new to taste this year. The Adults get pretty creative; in fact, they have a whole field of study called Culinary Anthropology. After they give you the treat, they tell you about it in the same way other Adults talk about their passions. Last year, the Culinary folks told me they recreate anything they possibly can, so long as it doesn’t require something like the meat of animals or other things that no longer exist. And sometimes, they don’t let the lack of authenticity stop them. One year, they tried to make some kind of fake hotdog, which became a Birth Day legend because of how atrocious it tasted. Or maybe everyone was grossed out by the idea of eating a cooked dog, even a fake one. Those animals are so cute at the Zoo.

In general, I don’t know what the ancients were thinking when they decided to eat the flesh of living creatures. Then again, they did crazier things than that ‘for fun,’ like inhaling cancer-causing chemicals or diving into oceans with just a barrel of oxygen on their backs. Perhaps insanity was part of being mortal. With their relatively short lifespans, the ancients didn’t value their lives or the lives of other people and creatures as much as we, their immortal descendants, do.

I inhale the smell of fried dough again. Okay, I’ll be first to admit that even when it’s drowned in powdered sugar, this treat
isn’t
tastier than Food. Liam was right in that the two aren’t comparable, especially considering that this stuff is loaded with things that are really bad for one’s health. Even eating them once a year has to be limited to one or two pieces, max. I found the wisdom in that limit the hard way, when I ate four pieces (two of mine and two of Liam’s). I felt so sick I had to go to the nurse’s office. All that aside, it’s something different, which I like
.
Plus, it’s a traditional food the ancients ate at carnivals and fairs, so I’m following a tried-and-true tradition.

As I pass the dance floor, I see Youths of all ages dancing to upbeat music that gives my step a little bounce.

With all this merriment, it’s almost possible to forget that we’re the last remnants of humanity, surrounded by deadly Goo on all sides—which may be one of the purposes of Birth Day.

When I get to the food stalls, I see Youths already lined up, and I silently curse myself. I should’ve set an alarm to wake up earlier today.

The largest cluster of people is by the fried dough, proving that other people also find it the best treat of the bunch. I stand behind an older-looking guy and wonder if he’ll be leaving the ranks of Youths today to become an Adult. Then I wonder if Adults celebrate Birth Day the same way we do. If not, this might be this guy’s last chance to eat fried dough.

To kill time, I bring up my Screen.

The Adults sent out a color-coded map of the Institute and a list of activities we can find here today. Bursting with excitement, I inspect the different hobby and career options, making a mental note to check out the painters, sculptors, and every one of the professional athletes’ stalls.

Like in the prior years, there’ll be championship games in a variety of active sports and some more brainy activities, such as chess. This should be fun, as long as we don’t compete with the Adults who chose those occupations. Last year, Liam and I played on a team of eleven Youths against three Adults who’ve made soccer their lifelong study. Our numbers didn’t help. The three Adults handed our asses to us in a defeat so crushing I’m too embarrassed to mention the final score.

The fried dough line crawls forward. The smell is getting stronger, making my mouth water.

To keep sane, I look at the Screen again. There’s a mention of secret prizes, plus a forest egg hunt, which is a new activity and something I think Liam will be willing to check out with me. When it gets darker, the day will end with the traditional aurora borealis display that will culminate in fireworks.

“Theodore,” a raspy voice says from behind me. “I need you to come with me.”

The Youths in front of me, including the nearly Adult-aged guy, look scared.

Reluctantly, I turn around.

All it takes is a glance at the dreaded visor to recognize the source of their fear.

It’s a Guard.

My adrenaline spikes. What does he want with me? I’ve been careful not to get into trouble.

“What’s going on?” I ask the Guard. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Please follow me,” the Guard says with a steel edge to his voice. “Make haste.”

“Can I at least grab a fried d—”

The Guard moves his hand in a strange motion.

I’m hit with an intense sense of relaxation.

My hands drop to my sides.

It’s actually rather nice and timely that I got a chance to calm down. Resisting a Guard’s commands can double or triple your Quietude—something I learned a long time ago.

“Follow me?” the Guard half-asks, half-commands.

I nod and exit the line.

The Guard turns and heads away from the food stalls. I walk to his right so he can see me. I know the drill.

As we pass by all the merriment, I curse my horrible fate. I’m tempted to ask the Guard what the problem is, but I know that might result in a longer Quietude.

What’s really odd is that we’re not walking toward the Quietude building. We’re heading southeast, in the opposite direction.

I glimpse another Guard. This one has a female Youth walking next to him. She’s wearing a long Birth Day summer dress that’s somewhere between pink and magenta in hue. Spotting her red hair, I realize it’s Grace, except that makes no sense. Why would
she
be in trouble? Did Miss Good Behavior finally manage to misbehave?

Grace sees me and raises an eyebrow but keeps walking, the epitome of obedience.

As we walk, an idea enters my now-paranoid mind. Is Grace here to give testimony? Is this reckoning related to my staring at her yesterday? Did she notice me watching her do those yoga poses? She didn’t seem aware of me when she was exercising, and she couldn’t have known what I was thinking, even if she had seen me looking. Even I don’t fully understand what came over me that morning. All I know is that it was something forbidden. Still, given Grace’s presence, I have to consider the unpleasant possibility that this walk is related to that incident. I imagine Adults asking me questions about that incident, and my cheeks burn.

Farther away, another Guard and another person are walking in our direction. As they approach, I recognize the Youth-hyena hybrid accompanying the Guard.

It’s Owen.

This pair makes more sense. Like Liam and me, Owen is no stranger to Quietudes or trouble in general. Could
he
be the reason we’re here? Did he tell the Adults about Liam and me filling his room with Food bars last night? That doesn’t seem like Owen. Though he’s a bully and a jackass, Owen has a code, of sorts. He’s never once ratted us out, and we’ve returned the favor. Why change that pattern now, over such a minor prank? If it came down to it, if we told the Adults about the literal shit he gave us last night, he’d be in a lot more trouble than Liam or me. Plus, how does Grace fit into everything?

This is getting really odd.

On the bright side, I think I know where they’re taking us. We’re all heading straight for the cube that is the Administrative building. I’ve been to that place a few times before, but I’m guessing Grace is very familiar with it. The building is where one goes to rat on someone, which I never have. In my case, I was brought there to hear a lecture from the Dean on the subject of ‘being a good citizen of Oasis’—something reserved for the severest troublemakers.

I can’t help but ask the Guard, “Why are we going to the Administrative building?”

The Guard doesn’t reply; he just does something with his hand.

I feel relaxed again and realize that maybe things aren’t so bad. Maybe the three of us need to help the Adults with something that has nothing to do with us being in trouble.

My Guard and I are the first to enter the building, and he leads me through the empty corridors towards the Dean’s office. Only now do I realize that the Dean, along with all the other Adults, is probably too busy with Birth Day to deal with us.

My suspicion is confirmed when we enter the waiting area. Usually there’s a receptionist here. Today, there’s only one person waiting for us.

Liam.

My usually hyperactive friend looks pretty calm, all things considered. I suspect he’s playing it cool in front of the Guard.

“Someone will be with you shortly,” the Guard says. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He gestures to lock the door leading out of the waiting room. When Adults do that, any Youth who tries the door-opening gesture doesn’t get results. However, unlike a Quietude, confinement in a room is no big deal. It can even be seen as a vacation from Lectures, since Screens and everything else work the way they usually do. The nurse does this when Liam or I pretend to be sick. I say ‘pretend’ because only a few of my visits to the nurse’s office have been for real. I bet the same goes for Liam. I don’t know about him, but I can count on my fingers the number of times I’ve been genuinely sick.

“Dude,” Liam whispers as soon as the door closes behind the Guard. “Why are we here?”

“I don’t know—” I begin to say, but the door opens again, and the two other Guards bring in Grace and Owen.

“Thank you, Albert,” says the shorter, smaller-framed Guard in a strangely textured female voice. “We’ll summon you if you’re needed.”

The taller Guard, Albert, nods and leaves the room.

As the door closes, Liam and I exchange glances. Two things are unusual about that little exchange: First, we’ve only come across a female Guard once, during an incident with a fallen tree. Second, Guards
never
call each other by their first names in front of us.

Judging by the canine alertness on Owen’s face, he also noticed at least one of these irregularities.

“Please sit,” the female Guard says to Owen and Grace. “Theodore, be prepared to talk to us in a minute.” She makes the door-locking gesture and says, “Let me just set things up.”

She heads into the Dean’s office.

As soon as the door closes behind the Guard, Owen jumps to his feet and looks at me. “Why-Odor?”

I don’t say anything, but I’m gripped by sudden anger—anger more potent than anything I’ve experienced since childhood. Did Owen’s stupid nickname cause it?

Oblivious to my emotional state, Owen gives Liam a onceover and says, “Li-Li-Kins? Did one of you stoop to ratting? Is that why your little girlfriend is here?” He glares at Grace before saying to Liam, “Did you decide to take lessons from the biggest snitch in the Institute?”