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IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG for 62 to fall asleep once his head hit the pillow. It was the kind of rest that deposited him quickly into a dream, and he landed on his feet in a densely wooded forest. He inspected the soil beneath his feet. It was soft, damp, and cool. It wasn’t anything like the dry chunks of packed dirt in the desert outside the jailhouse.
Here, in this fairy tale world, everything grew in abundance. The trees stood so close together that they blocked out most of the sunlight. Thick fern and long grasses sprung up all around him. A bird whistled a familiar tune somewhere nearby. When he turned to find the songbird, he discovered a path that led deep into the forest.
His thoughts turned to Mattie as he walked the narrow trail. He considered how similar this forest was to the one he’d shared with Mattie before she told him she was sick. A rabbit dashed onto the trail in front of him. It bounded forward a few paces, then turned and stared at 62 with unblinking eyes. Its nose twitched as it watched him.
“Hi there,” 62 said quietly. “Where’d you come from?”
The rabbit took two slow hops forward. It turned again and stared at 62.
“You want me to follow you?” 62 asked on impulse. To his amazement, the rabbit nodded.
62 stepped forward, following the rabbit’s white tuft of a tail through the darkening woods. The sound of running water filled his ears. A few paces later, the rabbit leaped off the trail and bounded through a clearing. 62 chased after it, but he lost the rabbit in the field’s tall grass. He stopped, watching the clearing for any movement. The rabbit’s ears popped above the grass a few yards ahead of him, and he lunged after it.
He chased the bobbing tips of the rabbit’s ears through the field. At the clearing’s far edge, the grass gave way to bare earth. Across a thin beach, the calm waters where he’d first shown Mattie how to expand her dreams sparkled.
62 closed his eyes, wishing Mattie to appear. When he opened them, the blurred form of a Girl stood at the water’s edge. The Girl turned her mouth into a stiff frown and squinted her eyes at him suspiciously.
“Yup, that’s Mattie.” A sad smile pinched the side of 62’s lips. He shoved his hands in his pockets and dragged his feet toward the hazy image of the Girl he missed so much. Glowing strands of light rose off her in small wisps, like smoke. Aside from the flow of the light, Mattie’s ghost stood still, looking at him with an expression of mistrust.
“Hey, Mattie,” 62 said when he reached her. He wished she didn’t have to look so irritated with him. As soon as the thought entered his mind, her face relaxed into a more welcoming expression. 62 sighed. “Let’s sit a while, okay?”
62 and the silent Mattie found a wide log conveniently at the water’s edge. 62 sat down, dipping his toes in the lapping lake water. When he looked beside him, Mattie was there, her bare feet dangling beneath the surface. A fish swam up to her, nibbled on Mattie’s toe, and she didn’t even flinch.
A frustrated breath escaped 62’s nose. He looked across the lake at mountains that rose high in the sky on the opposite side. A large brown bird with a white head and vicious claws swooped down from above. It found an imaginary breeze, gliding peacefully over the lake. The bird’s shadow reflected in a perfect copy on the surface of the water. The eagle’s white head glowed deep in the aquamarine depths. The white feathers glistened on the water, seeming to shine with an ethereal light all their own. The bird flapped its strong wings, flying into the distance. After the bird left, the white light still flickered in the water.
62 stared at the spot of white. The light grew in intensity and rose from the water, drawing itself toward 62 as if it were reeling itself in with an invisible string. He blinked and it rushed toward him, stopping an arm’s length away.
He removed himself from the log, wading forward in the shallow water. A light like this one hadn’t appeared without him creating it in a very long time. He pressed his ear close to the brilliant light and listened. He didn’t think he heard anything, but he still felt there was someone on the other side. 62 pulled back from the opening, looking over his shoulder at where he’d left Mattie. The Girl’s specter was gone. Disappointed, 62 turned his eyes back to the light, which had doubled in size.
“Hello?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. He turned his head, pressing his ear into the light a second time.
“Hello,” a young voice replied. The sound hadn’t come from inside the glowing sphere, but from behind him. He spun around, nearly falling over when his foot slipped on a mossy rock beneath the water. 62 found his balance and looked up at the log where he’d sat with Mattie. A Boy sat on the edge of the fallen tree, his dangling feet not quite reaching the water.
“Pi?” 62 blinked rapidly and shook his head. The younger Boy had grown quite a bit since the last time they’d shared a dream together. There was a mischievous look in his eye that made 62 turn back to look behind at the orb of light, but it was gone. “How’d you get in here?”
Pi’s head tilted to one side. “An octopus can pass through a hole the size of a quarter.”
“What’s an octopus?” 62 asked.
Pi shrugged his shoulders and looked over the lake. “This is an interesting dream. Such an odd choice. Do places like this actually exist somewhere?” 62 opened his mouth to answer, but Pi raised his hand, eyes shut tight, head shaking. “Never mind. I can’t trust you. The Head Machine destroyed you. This all must be my imagination playing tricks on me again.”
62 stepped through the water back to the log, taking a seat beside the child he’d seen when working in Defense. “I read about this place in a story. They must have existed once, even if they don’t anymore.”
Pi wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something rotten. “Stories. Probably from a make-believe book. That explains it. Wretched things. The Head Machine would have a fit if it knew some Man invented books.”
“You haven’t told it about them?” 62 asked.
“Of course not. There’s no point now that he’s gone. He caused so much trouble, he deserved what he got.”
A lump formed in 62’s throat and he gulped it down. “I think he was brave. What happened to him?”
The pause that filled the air sent shivers running up 62’s spine. Pi’s face went slack, his eyes glazed over as if lost in thought. 62 looked in the direction that Pi was facing. His heart sank at what he saw. Out on the water, a giant furnace roared to life, the door swinging open to reveal flames licking the edges of the opening.
“The Head Machine fixed the furnaces,” Pi said in an eerily monotone voice.
62’s eyes burned as tears welled within them. He turned away from the inferno, remembering the fate he was supposed to have had. He was lucky to have been saved. He couldn’t bear to think about the people who were discarded with no one to rescue them.
“Major told me someone disabled the disposal devices from outside Adaline. The Head Machine was very concerned. There was bad code planted in the system, too. Code the Head Machine didn’t write.” Pi gave 62 a sidelong glance. “It’s worried that some of the defects it sent for disposal may have gotten loose.”
62 stared at the ripping water as he splashed it with his feet. “Major and the Head Machine sure are telling you a lot. Why do you think they’d do that? They didn’t tell you anything before, did they?”
Pi’s mouth turned down into a pout and he looked up to watch a cloud pass by overhead. “I’m not sure. I suppose it’s because there aren’t many others to talk to about imaginary things. It is odd that I can picture you in my dream, though. Very odd.”
62 nodded. “I find it strange, too.”
“If you were real, that means I broke into your dream without your permission,” Pi said with pride. “That proves you aren’t real. You wouldn’t let me do that.”
62 looked Pi over, squinting as he thought of how he should reply. “We were brothers. If our connection were real, why would I shut you out?”
Pi stared into 62’s eyes. His pupils grew wide, the brown irises threatening to swallow 62 up in their gaze. “I told Defense you were trying to escape when you were supposed to be helping 99.”
62’s heart began to race. He hoped Pi couldn’t see the sweat he felt forming under his arms. He cleared his throat. “What did they say about that?”
“They didn’t say anything. Not then, anyway. I think it ignored me because I was little.” Pi’s eyes flashed with anger. “Everyone treats me like I’m dumb.”
“But why imagine me? Why wouldn’t you dream with 99? You like seeing him, don’t you?”
Pi looked at 62 with somber eyes. “I did like it, for a while. He was always excited when I told him I’d found someone new to dream with. But every time I told 99 about my friends, they disappeared. Then, one day, 99 disappeared, too.”
62 frowned. “When was the last time you saw him?”
Pi shrugged the question off, answering another instead. “I wanted to imagine you because you didn’t take anything away from me when I knew you. You showed me how to make blocks fly when we first shared dreams. Do you remember?” A faint image of a younger 62 and Pi flickered to life over the water. 62’s copy manipulated a tower of blocks until they rose far beyond the reach of either Boy.
“I do remember,” 62 said quietly.
“I thought I was being a good Boy, telling Defense about all those dreamers. But now I’m the only one left.” Pi looked down at the water. The surface of the lake rose slowly, flooding around the small Boy’s feet until the water encircled his ankles. He kicked at the lake, sending a splash of water high into the air. The water droplets formed a fine mist, creating a cascade of rainbows.
“Are you sure you’re the only dreamer left?” 62 asked, an anxious shiver prickling his spine.
Pi nodded. “Defense shut down the Dream Ward. They don’t care about dreams anymore. There aren’t anomalies left to chase.”
62 thought of 71 and 42, the two old Men who’d shaped his dreams into something worth fighting for. Tears filled his eyes as thunderclouds formed overhead. Then it was raining, fat droplets splashing all around the two Boys. A streak of silent lightning flashed overhead. All this time, 62 had held out hope that his friends had survived. He wanted to believe they’d gone into hiding and were waiting to be rescued. But Pi’s words tore at his heart.
“I’ll never see them again,” 62 whispered. The soft waver of his voice was lost in a clap of thunder. The rain doubled its intensity. He could feel it seep through his clothes, sliding over his skin and sending a deathly chill through his bones. He turned to Pi, who looked over the lake with a vacant stare. Pi was perfectly dry, the water cascading over an invisible shield around him.
Pi’s voice was flat and lifeless when he spoke. “What do you think Defense will do to me now that they don’t need me?”
62 glared at the kid who’d just admitted to being responsible for the loss of so many. They may have only been defective clones, a species unloved by Adaline and Hanford alike. But they’d been living things. Breathing, intelligent Boys and Men who had value and worth far beyond what anyone gave them credit for.
“I expect they’ll discard you like they’ve done to the rest of us,” 62 said. He hoped his words would sting, making Pi feel the same tremor of fear that 62 had battled for so long.
“I think you’re right.” Pi slowly turned to look at 62, his dull eyes coming alight with worry. “Does it hurt?”
62 nodded. “Being tossed out by the place that’s supposed to be your home always does.”
“Do you think if you were alive, that you’d save me?” The anxiety in Pi’s expression grew. He looked suddenly weaker than he’d been just a moment before. Frailer than 62 remembered.
“I don’t know.”
Pi shuddered. The bubble of dry air around him began to glow, opening a rift in 62’s dream. Pi looked behind himself in surprise as the bright light grew in intensity, washing his features away. 62 pushed his hands out, shoving Pi angrily through the opening, sending him back to where he’d come from. Once Pi had fallen through the opening, 62 snapped the sides of the tear together. He zipped it closed and allowed his mind to seal the edges of his dream.
62 changed the scene around him, casting the clouds into oblivion and replacing them with the piercing white lights of T.A.S.K. He stood tall as the lake drained away from him, uncovering a soft floor that cushioned each stomp of his foot. A PTS unit rose before him, its body encased in padding. 62 threw his fist at the bot, slamming its padded body and causing it to emit an electronic yelp.
“Save him?” 62 yelled, his voice echoing in the empty air of the fitness stadium. The bot retreated, raising the pads at the end of its arms in self-defense. 62 made a violent skip toward the bot, spinning and kicking the Machine. “Save him?”
The bot teetered, making a lazy swing toward 62 with one of its arms. He dodged the punch easily, using the opportunity of the bot’s turning body. He shoved his elbow into the bot’s side, feeling the synthetic crush of its padded exterior.
“It’s his own fault he’s alone. He told Adaline where to find us. He helped it destroy us!” 62 took a few steps back from the flailing bot. He charged the thing, shoving his shoulder into it and toppling it to the ground. He stood over the bot, fists clenched, eyes wild, and nostrils flaring. “I don’t care what Adaline does to him. He deserves everything that’s coming to him.”
The bot’s eyes flickered. It turned its head and looked up at 62 from where it lay broken at his feet. The bot’s voice was quiet, a copy of N302’s mothering tone. As 62 forced himself to wake from the dream, its reminder echoed in his mind.
“You must help him. He’s your brother.”