She dressed quickly and brushed her hair before running downstairs to eat the hunk of bread and the apple that were waiting for her.
‘You look nice,’ she said to her mother as she walked into the kitchen looking for something.
Her mother turned and frowned uncertainly. Compliments on appearance were rare in the City; they suggested too much attention paid to the look of things or people, instead of to what lay underneath. ‘Why do you say that?’ she asked. ‘What have you done?’
Evie shook her head. ‘Nothing,’ she answered. She couldn’t explain that today she wanted to talk, of anything and nothing, to stop herself having to think about what she was going to do – what she had to do – to stop the dreams and to stop evil taking hold of her.
‘Well, eat up. We’re leaving soon,’ her mother said with a little shrug, leaving the kitchen.
Evie surveyed the food in front of her, then stood up, put it into a container for later and went upstairs to brush her teeth.
At 8.45 a.m. exactly she and her parents left home, the three of them walking in a row towards the Meeting House, just like all the other families on their road. They smiled as they overtook them, their pace quickening as they got closer. Evie tried to let the excitement infuse her, and to think of happy things.
Gatherings were the highlight of everyone’s week in the City; they brought everyone together. When Evie had been younger, she could barely sleep on a Friday night because she was so excited about the Gathering the next day. Everyone looked so wonderful, and the whole occasion was so warm and loving. The Gathering made everything make sense, made everything feel worthwhile and made her feel like the luckiest girl in the whole wide world.
Today, she realised, as she walked into the Meeting House, she needed the Gathering more than ever.
The Meeting House was the largest building in the whole City, big enough to contain all 5,000 residents, and as usual it was half full by the time they got there. She happily accepted the warm Gathering drink that was always offered at the door, drank it, then found a seat at the far end of a bench towards the front, next to her parents. She watched as everyone else walked in, family after family, couple after couple, some on their own, some of the elders of the community being helped in by a carer. The A’s were all at the front, then the B’s, then C’s at the back. Some mixed groups sat at the back also; families with different labels. It wasn’t common, but it happened from time to time, usually when a young person’s label was higher than that of their parents. Wives and husbands saw their seating position change when their partner’s label changed; they were responsible for each other, influenced by each other. But children were different. Evie watched cautiously as Lucas (A) came in followed by Raffy (C) and his mother (B). No one knew quite how to treat mixed families, so they were kept apart from the others. An area at the side, meanwhile, was reserved for D’s, who walked in with their heads bowed, shifting uncomfortably until the Gathering started.
Music was playing, uplifting music that made Evie hum and smile. Sitting there, she felt protected; knew somehow that everything would be okay. Surrounded by fellow citizens, she knew that she didn’t have to worry about anything. She was safe here – they all were.
Then the Brother arrived in his long red velvet jacket. The Great Leader was too old to take Gatherings; he was too fragile to leave his house. But the Brother spread his word for him.
He walked to the front and everyone who hadn’t sat down yet found a seat. Seconds later the entire place was silent.
‘My friends, brothers and sisters,’ began the Brother. ‘It is so good to see you all here, as it always is. Let us give thanks to the Great Leader.’
‘We all give thanks,’ Evie said loudly, along with everyone else.
‘Let us give thanks to this great City.’
‘We all give thanks.’ Their voices were louder, more emphatic.
‘And finally, let us give thanks to the System, to ourselves, to our productivity, our love, and our ability to protect each other and ourselves.’
‘We all give thanks.’ Already Evie could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up in anticipation.
‘And now that we have given thanks, let us close our eyes and allow ourselves a few moments of quiet reflection. A few moments in which to consider our fortune, to think about our community and our place within it.’
Silence fell as they all retreated into their own heads, contemplating their lives. Or, in Evie’s case, trying to focus on the warm, fuzzy feeling she always got from the Gathering, and telling herself that she could still be saved, that she was not a bad person, that her dreams meant nothing. With her eyes closed, she thought as hard as she could about her parents, about her work, about the food on their table, the roof over their heads, the peace within their City walls.
I am lucky
, she mouthed silently.
I am so lucky
.
‘Evie.’ Evie’s eyes shot open and she turned to her right, the blood draining from her face. ‘You didn’t come last night.’ His voice was barely a whisper, but that was enough to fill Evie with terror. If anyone heard . . . If anyone saw . . .
She looked around, her eyes scanning the entire Meeting House, and when she was met by a sea of unseeing, closed eyes, the blood returned to her cheeks but it was no comfort. She shook her head violently, motioned to Raffy to return to his seat.
‘Where were you? Is everything okay?’
‘Yes,’ she mouthed back. ‘I mean, no. Raffy, I can’t come. Won’t come again. I’m going to marry Lucas. I can’t see you again.’
Quickly she swung back round to face the front, closed her own eyes tightly; she knew that Raffy would have to go, that it would be only seconds before everyone opened their eyes again.
All those around her were still fervently engrossed in prayer. Tentatively, Evie turned, glanced behind her; sure enough, there was Raffy, a few rows back. He was staring at her; when he caught her eye, he shook his head, mouthed, ‘No.’ Next to him Lucas sat, eyes closed, face calm. Evie turned back quickly, her heart thudding like mad. Raffy was crazy. If he’d been caught . . . Evie couldn’t even think about it. Her cheeks were hot now, her palms covered in sweat.
‘Now, keeping your eyes closed, breathe gently in and out. Feel the energy as the breath enters your body and feel the cleansing out breath, which takes with it your aches, your pains, any unhelpful thoughts clouding your judgement.’
Evie breathed in, and out, just as the Brother bid, just as she always did. In and out. But it didn’t calm her mind. It made her feel sick, like her body was being tossed around. She could feel Raffy’s eyes boring into her back, could feel his sense of betrayal, could feel her own huge feeling of loss, of being cut adrift. And yet she knew she was doing the right thing. She knew she had to stay strong. For both of them.
‘Now, without opening your eyes, reach out to grasp the hand of the person sitting next to you. Clasp their hand, brothers and sisters, and think about the bonds that unite us, that make us strong and good and pure.’
Evie was at the end of the row; there was no one to her right, so she reached out her left hand, which met her father’s, and held it tight, felt its strength and resolve and remembered how many times that hand had meted out punishments when she’d been growing up. That hand had taught her to follow the rules; now she was finally ready to do its bidding. She had to.
‘Now hold your own hands, brothers and sisters. Hold your own hands and feel the warmth of your blood flowing in your veins, keeping your body alive. Just as the beliefs that flow through you keep this City alive. Just as the System, our wonderful System which knows us all, keeps us all productive, at peace, in our right place.’
Her father let go of her hand and she clasped her own hands together and tried, so hard, to feel the blood and the belief, just like she’d done every week for as long as she could remember. But all she could see was Raffy’s face, defiant, desperate; all she could feel was the hole growing inside her.
A hole of evil, she told herself firmly. A hole that would be filled with goodness, hard work and focused dedication to the City.
‘And now, brothers and sisters, open your eyes and look around at each other. At your fellow citizens. Your friends, acquaintances, those you don’t know at all. And know that we are all in this together. That what each of us does affects us all, that our individual toil enriches everyone’s lives, that our belief nourishes not just us, but our whole community.’
Everyone’s eyes opened immediately; Evie’s gaze moved around too quickly to connect with anyone else’s. She couldn’t look behind her; couldn’t look anywhere near Raffy even though she knew Lucas would be looking out for her. She felt short of breath, like she was falling, even though she knew she wasn’t.
‘And we need that belief,’ the Brother said. ‘Belief in our great City. Belief in the System. Belief in the New Baptisms. Belief in each other. Each of us needs your belief and your work and your commitment. Because without it, we may as well let these City walls crumble. They can protect us from what’s outside, but they can’t protect us from ourselves. Can they?’
Evie turned back to face the front, her heart beating rapidly, her body bathed in a light layer of sweat.
‘No! They can’t protect us,’ she said loudly, along with everyone else; her voice was shaking.
‘But our Great Leader protected us,’ the Brother was saying. ‘He saw, long ago, that humankind was being held back. He saw that we were slaves to a part of the brain that we didn’t need, a part that was an aberration, which led people to do terrible things. Before the Horrors, humans thought they were civilised. They thought they were clever and sophisticated and that our Great Leader was wrong because they had everything they needed. But what did they have?’
‘Nothing,’ everyone chanted.
‘Nothing! Exactly. They had murder. They had gangs roaming the streets, attacking others and robbing them of their possessions. Women were raped. People were locked up. Adults were stoned to death. But this wasn’t enough to satisfy these people. They read books about murders and rape just to entertain themselves; they wrote plays on the same subjects.’
The Brother looked around the room and as he looked in Evie’s direction, she felt her stomach turn – she felt sure that somehow he knew that she too had done terrible things. But his eyes continued to scan the benches and as she gripped the one in front of her to steady herself, she told herself that this was her second chance. Just as the Great Leader had given humanity a second chance.
She would forget Raffy eventually, and he would forget her. They would both be saved.
‘They built religions to protect themselves, to offer moral guidance, because they were incapable of guiding themselves,’ said the Brother, and her father nodded vigorously, unaware of the torment within his daughter. ‘But what did they do with these religions?’ the Brother continued. ‘They used them to fight each other; they turned their morality into a violent war. And why did they do that, brothers and sisters?’
‘Because they were enslaved by their corrupt brains,’ everyone shouted, Evie louder than ever before. ‘Because they did not know any better.’
Evie thought of her own, corrupt brain; even now it was fighting with her, trying to tell her she was doing the wrong thing.
‘Because they were enslaved. Because they did not know what real goodness was – they would not recognise it if they saw it. Because they did not know any better, did not know any different. But we do, brothers and sisters. We look back on them with pity, with fear. Because outside these City walls, those humans who survived the Horrors, those humans that have rejected the New Baptism and chosen to remain outside our community, they are the same as the humans who lived before. Enslaved by their desires, their pride, their anger and their hatred. They long not for peace, for happiness or for goodness; their thirst is for violence, revenge and destruction.’
A collective shiver rippled through the room. The Brother lifted his hands and everyone stood up.
‘But we have been saved from these bestial instincts,’ he said, and someone whooped. ‘The New Baptism has cleansed our brains, removing the draw towards evil. We are no longer a danger to ourselves.’
‘No longer a danger to ourselves,’ everyone chanted. The energy of the room had picked up; Evie could feel the excitement beginning to build.
‘We do not long to kill, to destroy. We long to work together. To build a good future. To be pure in mind and deed.’
‘Pure in mind and deed,’ the congregation repeated.
‘We have a System that knows us, each of us, that watches over us. We can live our lives without worry, suspicion or hardship, because the System ensures that our lives are lived as they should be. But we cannot rest on our laurels. We are free from evil, but we are not free from all that will tempt us. A conscious mind is a mind that can make choices, a mind that can make decisions. Brothers and sisters, you are good people. I know that you want only to make good decisions, good choices. Am I right?’
‘You’re right! Yes, sir, you’re right.’
‘You’re right,’ Evie said fervently. She would make only good choices from now on. The Evils would not claim her. She would not be left outside the City walls for the monsters who would come to find her.
‘And if we’re going to make those good decisions, those good choices, what do we need to quash?’
‘Desire!’ someone shouted out.
‘Greed!’ shouted another.
‘Desire and greed. Oh yes,’ the Brother said. ‘What else?’
‘Pride,’ called out her father, and stood up, his hands in the air.
‘Pride!’ the Brother shouted back. ‘Pride, desire and greed!’
More people started to stand up, their hands reaching skywards.
‘We must turn away from all these things. Because desire tempts us, desire tests us, but we must turn away from these baser instincts because with desire and lust come aggression and violence. Desire is dangerous, sisters and brothers. Do not allow it to corrupt your beautiful minds. Do not allow it to find disciples within these City walls.’