AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“But my supervisor will know me,” I protested.
“Your supervisor will not be present for this sort,” the man told me.
“And the Officials—”
The woman interrupted me. “The Officials won’t remember names or faces,” she said. “You’re machines to them. If we substitute a false identification code and a false picture, they won’t remember who was really there. ”
And this, I realized, is why the Society doesn’t trust technology. It can be overridden and manipulated. Like people, whom the Society also does not trust.
“But the other sorters—” I began.
“Trust us,” the man said. “They won’t remember. ”
We’ve finished at last.
I finally look up from the screen. For the first time, my eyes meet those of the other people who have been working on this sort. And I feel nervous. The man and woman from the Arboretum were wrong. Today has been different, out of the ordinary, for all of the sorters in this room. No matter what, I will remember the other workers here—that girl’s freckles, that man’s tired eyes. And they’ll remember me.
I’m going to get caught.
“Please,” says one of the male Officials at the front of the room, “remove your red tablets from the containers. Do not take the tablet until we come by to observe you. ”
The room collectively draws a breath. But we all do as he says. I tap the tablet out into my palm. For years, I’ve heard rumors about the red tablet. But I never really thought I’d have to take it. What will happen when I do?
The Official stands in front of me. I hesitate, on the edge of panic.
“Now,” he says, and I drop the tablet into my mouth, and he watches me swallow it down.
There’s a faint taste of tears in my mouth and I am sitting on the air train home without having much recollection of how I got here or what has happened this day.
Something doesn’t feel right. But I know I have to go to Grandfather. I have to find him. That’s all I can think of. Grandfather. Is he all right?
“Where have you been?” he asks when I arrive.
“Work,” I say, because I know I came from there. But I feel out of focus; I’m not sure what exactly happened. Being here feels good, though. It is beautiful out.
It is a rare moment in spring when both buds on the trees and flowers on the ground are red. The air is cool and at the same time warm. Grandfather watches me, his eyes bright and determined.
“Do you remember what I said once about the green tablet?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say. “You said I was strong enough to go without it. ”
“Greenspace, green tablet,” he says, quoting himself from that long ago day. “Green eyes on a green girl. ”
“I’ll always remember that day,” I tell him.
“But you’re having a hard time remembering this one,” he says. His eyes are knowing, sympathetic.
“Yes,” I say. “Why?”
Grandfather doesn’t answer me, at least not outright. “They used to have a phrase for a truly memorable day,” he says instead. “A red-letter day. Can you remember that?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. I press my hands to my head. I feel foggy, not quite right. Grandfather’s face is sad, but determined. It makes me feel determined, too.
I look around again at the red buds, the flowers. “Or,” I say, something sharpening in me, “you could call it a red garden day. ”
“Yes,” Grandfather says. “A red garden day. A day to remember. ”
He leans closer. “It’s going to be hard to remember,” he says. “Even this, right now, won’t be clear later. But you’re strong. I know you can get it all back. ”
And I have. Because of Grandfather. He tied the red garden day like a flag to my memory, the way Ky and I used to tie red strips of cloth to mark obstacles on the Hill.
Grandfather couldn’t give me back all of the memory, because I’d never told him what I’d done, but he could give me a part of it, could help me to know what I’d lost. A clue. The red garden day. I can build the rest back like stepping-stones to take me to the other side of forgetfulness, to find the memory on the other bank.
Grandfather believed in me, and he thought I could rebel. And I did, always, do little things, even though I believed in the Society, too. I think of how I made a game for Bram on his scribe when we were small. How angry I was when I swallowed that bite of cake at the Banquet. How Xander and I didn’t tell the Officials about his tablet container that day he lost it at the pool. How we broke the rules for Em when we gave her the green tablet.
From what I know now, I think it must have been the Rising who approached me. I did what they asked because they threatened Grandfather. I added people to the Matching pool. Back then, I didn’t know who those people were. I didn’t know they were Aberrations.
The Rising and the Society both used me, because they knew that I would forget. The Society knew I’d forget the sort and its proximity to the Match Banquet, and the Rising knew I could not betray them if I didn’t remember what I’d done. The Pilot even made mention of that when he was flying us to Endstone. “You’ve helped us before,” he said, “though you don’t remember it. ”
But I remember now.
Why did the Rising have me add the Aberrations to the pool? Did the Rising hope that it would function as a kind of Reclassification for those who made it through? Or were they simply trying to disrupt the Society?
And why did the Society use me, and the other sorters, that day? Were the sorters in Central already beginning to fall ill with the Plague?
Another memory comes to the surface, tugged by this one.
I Matched another time, in Central.
