Fadeout

Chapter 9: Silas

  The first place the guards took Silas was the shower room in the boys ward. They waited while Silas cleaned up and put on his other fresh pair of pants and a buttoned brown shirt like the ones he’d been wearing. He didn’t think this was normal procedure for the Machine, but he was covered in mud and supposed that they didn’t want to get the shiny table dirty. He tried to make every moment last longer, but before he knew it he was clean, dressed and walking away from the boys ward.

  They walked through the door that connected the halls of the Carillian wards to the building where the Machine was kept, but instead of turning toward the Machine they walked past it to the main house, turned right and climbed up four flights. When they entered the hall of the fourth floor, Silas could hardly believe his eyes or his feet. The ceilings were high and had splashes of bright colors flung on them. They seemed like they would reflect the sun in a way to make the whole hallway flood with light, if the sun was out and it wasn’t raining again. The carpet was so soft and thick that Silas was certain his feet sank an inch. It was no wonder they made him take a shower first.

  Tymas stopped in front of a large walnut door and knocked three times.

  The door opened and the Tirean boy gave a quick, polite smile before he said, “Thank you, Tymas. I can take him from here.”

  The grip on Silas’ arm didn’t change.

  “I don’t think you should be left alone with--” Tymas started to say.

  “I can take care of myself and we’re not going to be leaving the room, so if you absolutely must stay on the floor, you may do so in the hall.”

  Tymas growled, but when the boy took Silas’ hand and pulled him toward the door, Tymas let go. The boy gave Tymas another smile as he shut the door, a bit forcefully to Silas’ ears.

  “My name is Jamar Pelacroix,” the boy said. “My father owns Cartiam V as well as all the others. I often get bored on my father’s business trips, so it is your job to keep that from happening while I am here.”

  Jamar tilted his head and appraised Silas. “You’re taller than you looked. But you’re also thinner, so that should still work. Now, do I call you 800190, or do you have a name?”

  “My name is Silas Durant.”

  “Silas.” Jamar scrunched his eyes as he looked at Silas. “I guess that will do. You may call me Jamar.”

  “Thank you.” Silas wasn’t quite sure what to say.

  Jamar smiled. “Good, that’s over. Now, I suggest we play a highly competitive game. Fighting each other mentally will be the best way for us to get to know each other. Plus it’s a great way to pass the time and since it’s muddy we can’t go outside.”

  “You were going to take me outside?” Silas asked.

  “Yes, it is easier to practice sword fighting in a large open space.” Although Jamar tone inched toward scoffing at Silas’ ignorance, Silas didn’t care. He had been that close to going outside of the Cartiam. Still, he was in the main house and even though it would have been more helpful to go outside the walls, he would never get there if he didn’t know what the main house was like. Silas stuffed all those thoughts deep inside and tried to remember what Jamar had said.

  “You want me to learn how to sword fight so you can practice?”

  “Well, I can’t fight a dummy. That’s not a good way to increase my skills. Have you ever held a sword?”

  Silas shook his head.

  Jamar rolled his eyes. “Follow me.”

  They wound their way around a large, plush bed to a wooden closet near a full, wall length bookshelf. Jamar swung the closet door open revealing weapons of all sizes and shapes. He leaned in and pulled a small, unadorned hardened plastic sword out from its place near the bottom of the closet.

  “Hold this,” Jamar said passing the sword back to Silas.

  Carefully, as if afraid that he would cut himself, Silas took the sword’s hilt and wrapped his fingers around it. The hilt was as hard as a wall, but smooth and cool to the touch. Silas took several steps back and swung the sword to see how it moved through the air. He hoped he wouldn’t be punished for this, but since Jamar was the owner’s son, he figured he was probably safe.

  “Okay,” Jamar pulled another, slightly bigger sword made from the same materials out of the closet. “Now there are six basic blocks and strikes, two low, two chest height and two high.”

  Jamar ran through them so fast that Silas wasn’t sure he’d remember them, but after Jamar went through them slowly and Silas copied Jamar’s body position, he found it easier to move from strike to strike and block to block. It took an hour of running those positions before Silas could move to the next position without thinking too hard or jerking his body to get there. Then Jamar called out the positions and even mixed them up so Silas would have them memorized outside of the pattern he was first taught.

  When a knock on the door interrupted the sword lesson, Jamar snatched Silas’ sword and tossed both weapons into the closet before he ran across the room to the door. It was a young woman, Ajak, if Silas was right and he was fairly certain she was since the woman carried a tray of steaming food. Jamar told her to put it on the table near his bed and to get out.

  Through the open door Silas saw the Faan guard standing in the hallway, a smaller tray on a chair nearby. Tymas stared at the boys and Silas was glad when Jamar finally closed the door again.

  There were two plates full of food and Jamar handed one to Silas. After the small amount of oatmeal he had for breakfast, the lunch seemed extravagant. He loved everything he tasted. Jamar on the other hand, just picked at his food and complained that it wasn’t as good as he was used to eating. When most of Silas’ plate was empty Jamar said, “Let’s play chess now.”

  He pulled out a box, dumped its contents on the floor and began setting up pieces on the box’s checkered top. Silas watched as Jamar explained each piece and what all the pieces could do. Silas’ pieces were white which meant he had to go first. When Silas tried to move his king onto a spot with his pawn, Jamar laughed.

  “You can’t do that,” he said. “Only one piece is allowed to occupy a square at a time.”

  You didn’t say that. Silas wanted to say. At least he didn’t remember Jamar saying that. He moved his pawn up one space and then Jamar jumped one of his pieces over his pawns.

  “I thought you couldn’t do that,” Silas said.

  “You can’t with a king, but you can with a knight, silly.”

  Silas jerked and then realized Jamar was not saying the name Malina called him. The rest of the game went from bad to worse as nearly everything Silas did had limitations. Jamar would take piece after piece until Jamar proclaimed checkmate, which meant Jamar won. Immediately afterward he began setting up the game again and they played five more games. By the end of the fifth game Silas’ head hurt so badly he didn’t think he would ever figure out the rules to this game.

  “You’re not paying attention,” Jamar said. “Checkmate again.”

  “You win,” Silas said without much enthusiasm.

  Jamar swept his hands over the board. “You’re no fun. You’re way too easy to beat.”

  “Well, I’ve never played this game before.”

  “Never?”

  “I’ve never even heard of chest.”

  Jamar let out a laugh. “Me either. Cause the name of this game is chess.” He drew out the last ‘s’ into a long hissing sound.

  Silas let himself smile.

  “What kind of games do you play with the others?”

  Silas shrugged. “We don’t really play games.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  “Yeah.”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “What?” Jamar yelled.

  “Your father wants you to meet with him for dinner and I am to take the Carillian back to the ward.” It was Tymas.

  “Just a minute.” Jamar stood up. He checked his appearance in the mirror above his dresser and then kicked the chess board and pieces under his bed.

 
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jamar said, right before opening his door.

  “Okay.”

  Tymas stood with a curl in his lips when he saw Jamar. He didn’t wait for Jamar’s permission, but he took one step into the room, grabbed Silas’ arm and pulled him out. Silas glanced back and Jamar waved to him a small smile on his face. Before Silas could wave back, he was propelled down the stairs.

  Everyone was lined up for dinner as Silas entered the boys ward.

  “Move,” Tymas said when they reached Silas’ spot in line. Patton glanced back, as if he had to check that Silas was all there first, and then he inched up so Silas could stand behind him.

  Tymas disappeared out of Silas’ view and the cafeteria doors opened allowing the boys to start filing in. As they inched forward, Silas could hear frustrated and grumbled breathing by those who had received their food. Patton held out his tray and got ten leaves of lettuce and an orange slice. Silas expected the same, but the lady paused to look at him.

  “Number?” she asked.

  “800190,” Silas said automatically.

  She didn’t look at him but plopped a large scoop of lasagna in addition to the salad and a whole orange on his tray.

  “Hey.” The boy behind Silas complained when he saw that he didn’t get the same.

  “Move on,” the lady said, sliding Silas’ tray down the line.

  Silas grabbed his tray and walked over to his seat near Patton. He slipped the orange off his tray and into his pocket as he walked to his table.

  Patton’s eyebrows arched when he saw the pile of food.

  “You can have it,” Silas offered and at once three different hands split the food on Silas’ plate. He was still full from the large lunch he had and he didn’t like the suspicious looks he was getting.

  “Why’d you get so much food?” Patton asked.

  Silas shook his head. “I don’t know.”