Chapter 18: Silas
The yard had never seemed so comforting before to Silas as he walked through the doors and stepped on the dirt path. He just wanted life to go back to the way it used to be. Somehow that life made so much more sense. The regular routine might have been dehumanizing, but at least Silas knew how to handle it. He didn’t want to think about how it was used to control the Carillians, how they let it control them and didn’t do anything about it. They were sheep. But they didn’t have to be.
It had never bothered Silas before, being around the guards and knowing they thought he was worthless. And it still didn’t really bother him now. He felt like it gave him an edge. They didn’t expect him to be smart enough to tie his own shoes, so they would never expect him to plan an escape.
But it bothered him when Jamar thought he was dumb. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Jamar knew more about sword fighting or chess and had laughed when Silas didn’t. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that Jamar actually saw him. Jamar didn’t let his eyes glide over everyone, only looking for misbehavior. He’d looked Silas in the eye, asked him questions and listened to his answers. Over the last few days Silas had gotten to know Jamar in a way he had never known anyone from another class before. They had talked and played together and Jamar still thought Silas was worthless. It stung, like vinegar on a cut and smelled just as sour. For as much as Silas believed he had some value--and not just the kind of value the profit from his e-mems would make--he also feared it was a dream. Where would his value come from? Was he only worth what someone else could make from selling his soul, or did he gain value from someone or somewhere else?
If he took the Tirean view of his value, than Silas was worthless. The best he could do was let them do anything they wanted with him. He was at their mercy and should probably thank them for allowing him to exist in the first place. Tireans were better and deserved for everyone to serve them and Silas deserved his lot as well. He was in his rightful place if the Tireans were right. And the weight of that knowledge was almost too heavy to bear, like a large stone hung around his neck that would never allow him to look straight up at the sky. Yet that is what Silas wanted most: to gaze up at the sun in the clouds without a fear of being punished, to spend as much time doing it as he wanted and to do so with his shoulders straight and a smile on his face. But he couldn’t do that today.
Silas sighed and walked toward an empty space of wall near Stephen and Marcus. The red e-mem in his pocket rubbed his leg with every step. He didn’t want to touch it, but he’d have to take it out of his pocket one day. Stephen noticed him, but didn’t say anything. Marcus wore a frown and gave Silas a glare that darkened as he approached them. When Silas leaned against the wall, both of them pushed off and went to the other side of the yard.
This day was not getting better. Silas knew they were mad at him for getting out of the daily running, for disappearing most of the day doing who knew what. It didn’t seem to matter that Silas didn’t have a choice or that his transplant had gone off with the rest of theirs. He was still a Carillian and his trips with Jamar would not change that. He’d explain what was happening and prove himself and then things could go back to normal. They would come around. At least he hoped they would.
Several of the younger boys glanced over at Silas and then quickly jerked away when Silas looked back. No one was playing and the balls were still in the box, but Silas didn’t feel like getting one out. There would be no point if the others refused to play with him. Silas realized this was the first time he’d been in the yard in several days, but it felt different than before. The walls were lined with teens and there was a cluster of older teens in the camera blind corner Malina had shown him.
Malina was there too, but when she saw him enter the yard she had begun to inch her way to him. Silas waited not wanting to seem impatient, but wishing she would hurry up. It felt like they hadn’t talked to each other in years. His plans for escape were dusty. He hadn’t even thought about how they were going to get out since the last time they talked.
“How are you?” Silas asked moving his lips as little as possible.
Malina didn’t say a word for a moment and then she sighed. “There’s talk going around.”
“I’m not a snitch. I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t tell them anything about us when I’m there,” Silas said, spreading his fingers in such a way that they encompassed everyone in the yard, but also could be seen as a harmless flexing.
“I didn’t say you were.” Malina looked over at him and frowned. “Who said you were a snitch?”
“No one,” Silas said. “What did you hear?”
“They’re planning something.”
“What? An escape?”
Malina shook her head slightly. “No, I don’t think so. I haven’t really heard anything specific, just that something big might be going on. They’re calling it the Plan.”
Silas glanced over at the older boys and a few older girls crowded in the corner. Stephen was there, so was Marcus who was doing most of the talking. He wasn’t speaking loud enough that anyone outside of his immediate circle could hear him, but those in the circle would walk over to another group of kids waiting nearby passing on what he was saying to them.
“I talked to Cortez, the janitor, again yesterday,” Malina said. She reached up and slid her fingers through her hair so that it made a smooth screen blocking her lips from those above.
Silas waited for her to continue.
“He said he would only take money or something that he could sell. I asked him about those collector dolls I get and he might take them if I had fifty more. I don’t know what to do. I had to give him one doll already to keep him quiet.”
“I doubt my stuffed animals are worth much,” Silas said. He let his head fall back against the stone wall. The slight pain felt good. It gave him more to think about than how they owned very little of worth.
Malina sighed.
“What?”
“Maybe--maybe we should give up. If I cause a scene right now they might take me and then it would be over and I wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore.”
“Don’t say that!” Silas dropped his head down so his words would not travel as far.
Malina looked over at him. Tears filled her eyes. “I need....”
He knew that look. He felt like he wore it inside every moment of every day. She needed hope and the escape was falling apart. He was failing her.
“You don’t know how hard the last few days have been for me without you. I almost snapped two days ago and then this morning I got so mad at the girl they picked. She had such a big smile on her face and the way she looked at us older girls as if we weren’t good enough, I wanted--”
“Easy,” Silas touched her arm and her curled fists relaxed. It hurt him to know how much she struggled. He wished he could fix the situation, but he was trapped. How could he say no to the guards? They came for him and that was that. Even if they would listen, Silas knew his times with Jamar were important. He was learning so much about how the rest of the world worked. Through Jamar, his tutor, the way the guards stood and the few servants Silas had seen. It was a different world from inside the Cartiam and if they wanted to get out, they would have to know how to act. Yet being there meant he was gone when Malina needed him.
“I wish you could lock your emotions away. Maybe that would help,” Silas said.
“My emotions are locked and it doesn’t work that way,” Malina said with a sigh.
“What? How did you do it?”
“It happens automatically when you experience an intense emotion.”
“You have intense emotions all the time.”
Malina let out a soft laugh. “Those are normal emotions for me. No, I mean intense. Really, really intense. Like you can’t breathe and it’s the only thing you can think about. That kind of intense.”
Silas let his head rest against the wall. He wasn’t sure he knew the difference.
“Sometimes it can happe
n without the person even knowing it did, but once it happens the source that emotion connected to is the key to unlocking everything.” Malina looked up at the Ajax guard walking along the top of the wall and then over at the camera location.
Silas followed her gaze. His skin tingled. That must be one of the reasons they were watched all the time. If the guards knew who or what a Carillian’s key was, then they could break the Carillian easily.
“What’s your key?” Silas asked.
Malina’s head whipped over and she arched her eyebrow at him. Silas murmured a quick sorry and let the matter drop. He shouldn’t have asked. If something did happen to her it would be best if he didn’t know.
Lisette, Malina’s cell mate walked over to them, but instead of stopping she walked past.
“You have to hear him,” she said with a slight tilt of her head at where Marcus was quietly, yet also animatedly, talking. “He’s going to begin again soon.”
The group of kids who had surrounded him were fading across the yard and others were taking their place. Malina pushed off the wall and took a long arc over to where Marcus was. Silas waited a few seconds and then made his way to the same spot going in the other direction. He had to know what Marcus was talking about for himself.
He didn’t stand near Malina, instead he crouched down and picked up a handful of dirt and little pebble. Malina was somewhere behind him standing next to another girl as if they were hanging out although Silas didn’t think they ever had.
“We need to have courage,” Marcus whispered passion leaping from his mouth. “Too long have we stood in line, took our food and watched our families and friends be taken away. We are weak and they expect us to always be weak. But I believe we can be strong.”
It was like a trumpet instantly called all the hairs on Silas’ back to attention. This was what he felt too.
“How many times have we all seen the guards lead someone away, someone who makes the lights flicker and then is never seen again? We hate it, but we don’t do anything, because it’s easier to watch than it is to stop it. When they tell us to run, we run. When they tell us to get in our cells, we do. When they tell us it’s time to go, we go hoping the whole time we aren’t going to the Machine. But what we’re really doing is agreeing with them. When we obey, we agree that their treatment is good and correct. And it is not. We make their lives easier while they destroy us.”
Silas’ jaw was clenched and he realized he was squeezing the dirt in his hand. He softened his grip and let a few pebbles go.
“We need the courage to do what is right whether through inaction or action. It is wrong to let the guards take us without a fight, to sit on the Machine when they tell us to sit. We might not be able to stop bad things from happening, but by our actions we are either passively approving or passively rejecting the ideals of our captors. When one person is taken away, if we watch and do nothing, we are approving what will happen to them. No more sitting idly by. We need to take control and take responsibility for our actions. We have been sheep long enough. Now we will be wolves.
“We have a plan to show our captors who they have really been guarding. We will rise up and take action. If you have had enough of the fear and uncertainty and are ready to stand against injustice don’t do anything yet. We will lull the beast with sleep and strike when they are least expecting. But if we can count on you, cross your right leg over your left and someone will give you instructions.”
Silas glanced up. He stood stiffly and let the rest of the dirt fall to the ground. All over the yard he noticed were right legs crossed over left. Stephen and Patton both had crossed their right legs, Stephen with a defiant tilt in his chin. They weren’t the only ones. Somehow Marcus’ word had sparked something in Sebastian as well. Both Sebastian and his friends crossed their legs and their arms. Even Malina was doing it. Silas wanted to also. He was tired of letting others rule his life. He wanted to fight. But he had to know more. What was the plan? And most importantly of all, would it interfere or help with his escape?