Quantum state, p.10
Quantum State, page 10
I know Anna's girls will want all the details at lunch, and I review in my head what I'll say during classes so I'll be ready. When the educatebot assigns me to write a report with Anna on the story of Romeo and Juliet, I see Anna turn a few degrees giddier. She's already forgotten the assignment.
“So, Anna, how do you think we should start our report?” I ask as we sit criss-crossed on the carpet in a corner of the class. Other paired students sit on the carpet too, because whenever we get the chance to get out of our chairs, we take it.
Anna throws her hands up. “The only report I want is the one about you and Kazimir.” Her body jolts up an inch in excitement before leaning into me, her eyes widening. “What happened?!”
“Really, Anna? We have to get this report done first. I promise I'll tell you all about it after our assignment.”
“Okay, okay, fine. But then I want to know everything.” Anna's pinky plays with strands of blonde hair near her ear as I see Darya stretch her head in our direction for a better listen.
I take a deep breath, returning the conversation to Romeo and Juliet. “So, what's our report's focus?”
“Maybe we should contrast our lives to theirs?” Anna suggests.
I stew in the thought for a moment, about how different our lives are from anything we read or watch on TV. “That's an excellent idea.”
We manage to make some points of contrast between eating habits (Romeo's time of meats to our time of mostly vegetables and grains), dating (decided by parents contrasted to decisions by a computer), district sizes (because where Romeo and Juliet lived seems so much bigger than Cherni), and transportation (because Romeo had carriages and horses and we have no transportation of any kind). Then, I write free speech because half the things Romeo says to Juliet no one in Cherni could be caught saying to someone they were not matched with, without getting thrown into jail. Then, Anna scratches a pencil over my idea of free speech and tells me we don't want to get into trouble.
Such is life in Cherni.
After literature class, the lunch bell rings, and then I'll have an hour of math and an hour of gardening before I'm dismissed to go home. Thankfully, gardening is outdoors, and so I'm only in my Pod room for four hours. Everyone has a free selection for their last class and a different educatebot to teach it. Free selections can be from any of our duties when we turn eighteen. My educatebot for gardening is female. I know because of her voice, though there is no physical difference. MAQS just uses different voices to help us humans feel more at ease.
At lunch, I hesitantly join Anna's girls on the other side of Pod where they usually sit. Normally, I'd sit by myself and use my time to think about how to best get past MAQS, but today I know they want the gossip and nothing I do will make them stop except to give them what they want. Anna and Darya share a peanut butter sandwich, while Vera munches on sautéed green beans and carrots. Inna rolls up spaghetti onto her fork, reminding me of my dinner last night.
When Anna sees me, she bounces up and away from her friend Darya, and aims straight for me like a gust of wind. “Masha!” she yells, and cradles me under her arm as she pulls me to her group. “So happy to see you!”
Darya immediately stops eating her sandwich and looks up at me with big, round, inquisitive eyes that speak more than her incessant words. I barely notice Vera when Darya yanks my hand, drawing me in between her and Anna. “So, what happened on your date? What did Kazimir order? What did he talk about? Is he excited about the marriage?”
I can't be sure if Darya is happy for me or jealous, but I don't want to talk about my date anyway. I know what I'm going to say, and it isn't going to be much. I rehearsed it all this morning. “Well, he took me to the cafe in his zone and we had spaghetti.”
Darya glances to Inna's lunch and sighs.
“Then, we went home.”
Anna slaps her hands against her legs. “That's it? What'd you talk about?”
“Yeah,” Darya encourages.
“Not much. I mean, we don't really know each other that well yet.”
Anna put her palms to her hips. “That's why you talk!”
I don't reply.
“So you just sat there in silence?” Darya says, maybe with a slight grin.
“Well, no.” I shrug. “I mean, we made small talk about the dinner, and we had a delicious walnut cake afterward which we both loved because neither of us eats cake at home.”
Darya repeats, “Walnut cake?” I already see her mind churning with more recipes for when she 'visits' Kazimir.”
“Yep.”
“What about at the end of the date? A hug? A kiss?” Part of her seems sincerely curious, and another part like a rabid dog I've seen once on TV.
“We just said goodbye and he opened the front door for me.”
The circle of so-called girlfriends sighs in part with disappointment and then Vera speaks, her pitch like a flute. “So, do you even like him?”
We all turn to her. I'm surprised she said anything at all. I've never heard her talk until now. “Uh, um…I don't know.” I mean, aren't we always supposed to like the men MAQS picks for us to marry? Am I really betraying Esfir if I do? Isn't he supposed to be the perfect fit? Still, I don't really know Kazimir, and I've known Esfir all my life. We've made plans to run away together—even my friends don't know that—and yet, a part of me is drawn to Kazimir, to his protective nature, because I know that despite everything all he really wants to do is protect me.
“You don't know?” Darya reacts angrily. Her brows twist like vines on the birch trees in the park. “He's amazing. How can you not know?!”
“I…I just don't.” I shove the apple from my lunch bag into my mouth, hoping the probing will stop before I say something more stupid.
Darya can't let the comment go. “I like him! Why doesn't MAQS pick me to be with him? You don't even deserve him!” I feel like her every word is a stomp of her foot on top of me.
I feel the frustration of last night, of this day, of my life building up inside of me. All the questions I can't answer, don't want to ask— just pop. “I don't know!” I run off, hearing Darya shout in return.
“Is that all you can say?”
My lunch bag sways in my left hand and my eyes fix on the sun in front of me as I skirt around the wall of Pod to return to my favorite spot, regretting everything I told those girls. They're not my real friends anyway. Why did I feel so much pressure to say anything at all? I'm angrier at myself than anyone else as I sit and ruminate on a boulder near the back of the Pod.
Math is the longest hour of my life, with Anna and Darya just staring at me. I've gotten used to Darya's stares, or more like glares, but Anna? She is supposed to be my friend. I hear them whisper to each other in sporadic moments in between assignments. I didn't want this. I didn't ask for this. All this attention. I just want to get out of here.
During my gardening class, I keep my hands on my pot's inner edge. The creamy red ceramic glosses the tips of my fingers as memories flood over me and my fingernails dig further into the pot's soil.
…Mama sits on her knees beside me, teaching me how to set the soil, to make it good for herbs. I must've been only eight. I remember her disappearing soon afterward.
“Now, remember, you must mix the nutrients in with the soil for the herbs to grow well.” Her tangy tone hangs over me as I drop a few of the white balls from the green nutrient pack into the pot in front of me.
“Like this, Mama?” I ask, my eyes squinting as I look up at her from underneath a glare of sun.
She rubs my head of hair with her open palm and smiles big. “Just like that Masha, just like that. Now, mix the soil with the nutrients,” she reminds me, long lashes holding me captive to her words.
I mix the soil with two fingers before a knock on the door interrupts us and I'm pulled back into my gardening class at the tapping of fingers over my shoulder bone.
I turn and see the educatebot, the female, watching me hold my pot. “You are falling behind, Masha. Please keep up with the class. Humans must know how to garden,” she chides, and I glance around to notice everyone else has already potted their plants. Humans must know how to garden? I repeat in jest in my mind. Why are they always telling us what we have to do?!
I take my fingers out of my pot and find my aloe, the one I picked last month. Every student had to pick one plant in October which would be potted in November. Our educatebot keeps our potted plants in a greenhouse at the Pod for us to care for. If our plant dies, we fail the class.
My peers have all chosen a variety of other plants. Some will grow tomatoes or carrots. Some have herbs of parsley, basil, or dill. I chose aloe, because I love the idea that nature can be a healer, and aloe was one of Mama's favorites too. Maybe I hope that one day, when I finally get out of Cherni, nature will heal me too.
I finally pot the aloe and hand the pot to the educatebot as I follow her to the greenhouse where my plant will sit for months until it's ready to take home and be tended to in my backyard.
The sun above us is strangely stronger than usual, with a rush of warmth over my skin. I'm thankful to be outside though, grateful that none of my lunch 'friends' have gardening class as their free selection. They've all chosen other duties to learn.
When the final horn dismisses us all, I race out of Pod for home because I just want to plop onto my bed and forget everything for a while. Unfortunately, when I open my front doors, I see Kazimir and his papa Viktor sitting side by side on the sofa in the living room.
Viktor turns his head, all attention drawn to the front door, as I walk in—his small eyes like beads belonging to a black pearl necklace. When he stands to greet me, I can better see his well-ironed tunic. “Nice to see you again, Masha,” he says before returning to his seat, and I nod with a cordial smile, unsure of why they are even here, hoping I'm not in trouble.
My stepmum waves me into the room to join them as Papa sits in his rocking chair without his usual newspaper as he calls to me, “Come, come.”
“Wha…what's going on?” I'm almost afraid to ask.
Papa responds, “The Kuznetsovs are visiting us today. Please sit down.”
I could see that, but I needed to know more. I sit across from them, as I did on their first visit. “Wh…why?” The question pops out when my stepmum glares at me with an arched brow.
Viktor answers, “My son would like to take you out again.”
“Ah.” I feel relieved and anxious at once. Not in trouble for what I asked Kazimir last night, but still! Another date?!
“And he told me you had some questions about Masha, your mama.” His chin curls up into his lips as he shrugs. “I thought maybe you would like to ask me yourself.”
I gulp, because Papa and Diana haven't heard the stories of Mama—not the stories that Kazimir and Viktor would share—and I don't know if I want them knowing. Papa is already suspicious of me and my friendship with Esfir. I don't want him to have more reason to think I'm up to something illegal. After all, apples don't fall far from their trees, or so I've read.
Yet, I can't just throw away this perfect opportunity, this chance to know Mama better. So, I decide to keep all questions about her leading Freedom quiet…for now.
“Well,” Papa urges, “are you going to ask something? Viktor came all this way.”
I fiddle with my fingers in front of me, as if somehow the gardening soil between them and under my nails can save me now, can instantly grow an aloe plant and just heal everything. I look up, Viktor's stare so intense and everyone so quiet, just waiting for me to answer. So, I finally have to.
After I clear my throat, I ask what I've been wondering since dinner last night. “You got to know Mama for six years in there.”
“Yes.” Viktor nods, his hands stretching over his knees.
“What was she like? I mean…did she seem like someone who deserved to be in jail? Who wanted to ever escape Cherni?”
I'm not sure why I ask the question that way, 'escape Cherni,' because I know as well as they do that no one should ever want to escape anything MAQS builds for us. 'Leave Cherni' would have been a better phrase, but I couldn't help myself.
Viktor tilts his head back, as if taken aback by the question at first, and then he leans forward, his hands digging further into his knees as his eyes grow more intense on me. “She was always kind to me, if that's what you mean,” he reasons. “But one does not deserve to be in jail for being mean. One deserves to be in jail for breaking the laws, and she broke them.”
Papa agrees with a few nods of his head. “Most definitely. We must all do our part to ensure that Cherni stays a prosperous district for us all to live, and anyone who threatens Cherni's well-being needs to be punished.”
I want to jump up, shake Papa, and scream about how no one deserves to be thrown in jail for wanting to know more, to see more. And essentially that is what escaping Cherni is all about, all Mama wanted.
My stepmum hands her husband a glass of juice. “Couldn't have said it better myself.”
I am quiet for a few long seconds before Viktor interrupts my silence. “Is that all you wanted to know?”
“Uh…I…” And then I ask what I've been thinking about since Mama disappeared from my life. “What were her last words?”
His eyes close before he answers, and I think I see a single tear swelling in one eye. “Tell Masha I love her and to never give up.” Maybe he cares after all?
I know what everyone in the room believes, that Mama was encouraging me to do my best in Cherni, but I know better. She was telling me to not let Cherni get the best of me, to make me a prisoner like it did her.
I could have cried, would have cried, if I believed even for a second that Mama was telling me to stay in Cherni, to embrace the system that I've grown to hate, and as Papa wipes a few tears from his eyes, I can't help but feel empowered.
I can't ask anything about Freedom now, not in front of my parents. So, I turn my head to Kazimir and jump up. “I'm ready. Where are we going?”
Kasimir beams. “It's a surprise.” He hands me a blindfold and signals with a crooked smile for me to put the black scarf over my eyes. I jerk my head back. “No way.”
“Masha,” Papa insists, “this is your husband to-be. You have to trust him.”
I look to Kazimir, and the strange thing is I surprise myself when I take the scarf from his hands, and it's then when I realize—I realize that I do trust him. When Kazimir helps me tie the scarf around my hair, his touch is soft—like his eyes—and I feel his fingernails against my scalp like a gentle massage and walk with him out the front door. I hear Diana and Papa shout 'goodbye' and 'have fun' and then the door closes with a loud click. My feet stumble over the pebbles leading to the sidewalk. A long walk finally takes me to a destination unknown.
Hand in hand—because I couldn't walk without him guiding me—he nudges me. “We're here. You can take off the blindfold now.” I wonder if the blindfold is all part of a ploy to get me to hold his hand. He's clever that way.
If Darya could see us, she'd cringe and then probably try to strangle me. I try not to laugh at the notion while I slide the silky scarf off my eyes, and blink a few times before I realize where we are.
“The park.”
Kazimir adds, “Actually, the Cylindrical. Where we first met.” He winks.
“You have a strange sense of humor.” I half-grin before I look up, the grandeur of the white structure cascading before us breathtaking, more so in the light of day than at night. I see a striped blanket on the grass nearby with a couple of glasses and a wicker basket.
“We're eating here?” I ask, feeling queasy in my stomach as I fret about whether this is a test, a ruse to get me to talk about why I was really at the Cylindrical the night that he caught me.
He plops down onto the blanket looking so comfortable, I can hardly resist, so I sit across from him and take a glass while trying not to bite my lips in nervousness, a habit Esfir told me gives me away.
“Should we drink?” I try to make the conversation about anything but the Cylindrical.
“Definitely. Grape wine,” Kazimir remarks as he pours. The bubbly sound hits the glass and makes me salivate. We don't get to drink wine much, not unless we special order it from MAQS, and it's usually refused. Keepers must get all kinds of special treatment.
“Wow, you must have gone through a lot of trouble to get wine.”
“I did.” He pours his own glass before toasting. “To us. To our marriage, and to our happy children.”
I gulp—seem to be doing a lot of that—and try to smile, but I'm sure the stress lines in my forehead remind him of a valley. Children?!
We sip while I try to gaze at anything but the Cylindrical, though it's hard to miss, and I finally find a few birch trees behind him to focus my diverted attention.
“So…” Kazimir says.
“So…” I repeat.
“I thought that maybe you might have more questions about your mama. Questions you didn't want your family hearing. I talked to my papa afterward about it and he said that MAQS said that since you will be a part of our family soon that she didn't mind you knowing more.” Kazimir sighs. “Still, there are some things I can never tell you. Things about Keeper tactics, histories of Cherni, criminal profiles. Keepers' secrets and all. You know.”
“Yeah, MAQS wouldn't approve.” The notion of Cherni history stays like a weight in my mind. What I wouldn't give to know more about Cherni's inception. Still, citizens are only allowed so much information. Something Esfir determined was designed to keep us better under control. And criminal profiles? What they must say about my Mama.
“So, what do you really want to know?” Kazimir asks, leaning into me.
I take a long slurp of wine.
State of Relations
More than anything, I want to know what is underneath town hall and who that person was that Mama met within the Cylindrical, the one who isn't listed in the DNA archives of Cherni, but I can't ask him that—not point blank.
