Fadeout

Chapter 19: Silas

  “I heard what the plan is,” Patton said. He turned on the water in the sink and washed his hands.

  “What is it?” Silas sat at the edge of his bunk. They’d been back in their cell for an hour.

  “Like I would tell you,” Patton said with a scoff.

  “Then why did you tell me you knew what it was?” Silas muttered.

  “It’s about time we did something, you know?” Patton wiped his hands on his blanket. “We let them treat us like this. We have to fight back.”

  “Is that why you stood outside our cell door and waited for them to push you in?” Silas asked. Patton wasn’t the only one who did that. Several other boys refused to walk into their cells too.

  “You should join us. It would put all the rumors of you working for the owner to rest.”

  “It’s not going to work. You saw what happened in the cafeteria. All they need to do is set our implants off and everything will go back to the way it was.”

  Patton smiled and leaped up into his bunk.

  “What?” Silas asked. There was something secretive behind that smile.

  Patton let out a short laugh.

  “Patton.” Silas let his tone imply that he was not in the mood to play games, which only made Patton laugh louder. “Fine,” Silas said and he lay back in bed determined not to give Patton any more attention.

  It worked. Patton rolled over to the edge and hung his head down so he could see Silas.

  “We have a potion that will turn the implant off.”

  “A potion? How do they make it and how does it work?”

  “I didn’t ask for the recipe. But the way it was explained to me is that this potion sends a series of electrical currents through the body that interfere with the implant’s signal and shuts it off. Fun, huh?”

  Silas nodded. It sounded pretty air tight. But would it work?

  “As soon as they whip it up we’re going to riot, kill the guards and destroy the Machine. And anyone who helps us is going to get a share of the plunder. You should think about it.”

  “I will,” Silas said, but inside he didn’t know what to think.

  “Better make up your mind fast ‘cause we’re doing it tomorrow.” Patton settled back on his bunk, leaving Silas alone.

  Tomorrow was way too soon. There was no way Silas could hope to escape with Malina that night and who knows what would change after something as big as a riot jarred the guards from their current complacency. Silas was torn. Part of him wanted to hope that a full scale riot could succeed, just as part of him wanted to hope that an escape plan could work. Any plan was better than sitting around waiting for your name to be called or to get taken away.

  Yet some plans were safer than others. A riot would be big and messy. There was no guarantee that anyone would come out alive. The success of the riot depended on the potion working, a potion Silas had never heard of and could not be certain would work. If the potion did work, then the riots success depended on the Carillians subduing all the guards. But they would have to get all of them, including the girls’ guards, not just two or three. Even without his weapons Tymas would be difficult to contain.

  This was also a new situation. Silas didn’t know what other tricks the guards might have up their sleeves. Just because no one had rioted in the last five years Silas had been there didn’t mean that the guards were not prepared for the possibility.

  And if the riot didn’t succeed.... An image of Malina being dragged down the hallway to the Machine filled his mind. Silas doubted anyone involved would be allowed to go to the farms. That kind of rebellion would not be permitted to spread. Even those who were not involved might not survive by association. Rumors could not inspire future generations to do the same. Hope was too dangerous and there would always be someone who thought he could break the odds.

  Silas knew this too well. He thought he could escape. He was a fool to think that there weren’t others to think and feel the same. None of them had succeeded, at least not that Silas had ever heard. Why did he believe that he could triumph where others failed? It wasn’t that he thought so highly of his own abilities to make the escape work. It was more that the escape had to work for Malina. He was desperate. He couldn’t fail her, even if the bottom of his heart was certain he would.

  Silas stopped himself. He could not let himself think like that. Slowly he rolled over and felt something hard in his pocket. The e-mem Jamar had given him. How had he forgotten about it? Any despair Silas had felt a moment before fled. If Cortez would accept an e-mem as payment instead of cash or Malina’s dolls, perhaps they could arrange something for tonight. It could work and he could get Malina out of the Cartiam before the riot ruined everything. She would be safe.

  Suddenly Silas couldn’t wait for dinner. He had to talk to Malina, give her the e-mem and get things going. They had to get out tonight. It was their best option. The only way Silas could know for sure that they would not be trapped if the riot failed.

  The cell door opened and Silas jumped. He hadn’t heard the guards come down the hall.

  “If you say anything,” Patton hissed.

  Hugle appeared in the doorway, his hair combed for once and parted down the center. He pointed his baton at Silas and jerked it toward the door. Silas got up and pursed his lips at Patton. He wasn’t going to say anything. It’s not like Jamar had ever shown interest in what the other Carillians did during the day.

  Silas walked next to Hugle down the hallway to the main house. The hallway didn’t seem as long as it used to. Not like the hallway to the Machine did. They entered the first floor and Silas turned to go up the stairs.

  “Not that way,” Hugle said. His voice was higher pitched than Silas had thought it would be. He guessed it was because he expected all the guards to have Tymas’ deep bass or Westminster’s graveled tones. Silas hoped that if they were going outside Hugle would remember to put the collar on. He didn’t want another repeat of the last time.

  But before they could get to the end of the hall where the outside doors were, Hugle stopped and knocked on a large walnut door.

  “Come in,” a man’s voice said from inside the room. Hugle turned the knob softly and opened the door.

  Once Silas stepped inside and the door closed behind him leaving him alone with a man behind a desk. He wasn’t sure why Lemuel would want to see him. There was no way he wasn’t going to say anything about the riot. He was not a snitch. The man didn’t look up, but Silas still recognized him as the owner from the large portraits that hung from the hall. Lemuel Pelacroix was the name etched in bronze under the portraits. There was a strong family resemblance to Jamar. They had the same cheek bones and similar nose, although the owner’s was much bigger.

  The owner didn’t acknowledge him and continued to write on some papers. Silas just watched him. Even though he wondered why he was there, he almost preferred not knowing. There was a clock on the wall behind the desk and Silas watched the second hand tick around. He could feel each second click on his skin like a constant drop of water.

  Lemuel cleared his throat. “I heard you have been spending time with my son.”

  Silas said nothing, although he nodded his head once.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Have you ever touched a sword before?” The owner looked up and his eyes seemed to pierce into Silas’ mind as if wishing he could find a lie.

  “No.”

  “Jamar is quite the swordsman. He’s more dedicated than I was at his age.”

  Silas pressed his lips together.

  Carefully Lemuel placed his pen down. “He’s also quite brave, isn’t he? Your new hero I’m sure. The way he stood up to that bear must have been inspiring.”

  Silas blinked. Jamar had cowered before the bear. And in a flash, Silas realized that must not have been the story Lemuel heard. He glanced up to see the owner staring at him, his eyes narrowed.

  “Jamar was the one who scared away t
he bear, wasn’t he?” Lemuel asked.

  Silas nodded and held the owners eyes, but he could tell the owner was not convinced. He leaned over to a box, pressed a button and said, “Tell my son to come to my office, now.” Lemuel’s tone was dark and no-nonsense, it made Silas feel certain that he had told the owner more than he should have and he wondered if it was going to ruin everything.