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Dekabrga yaqin edi va Jonas qo'rqib keta boshladi. Yo'q. Noto'g'ri so'z, deb o'yladi Jonas. Qo'rquv degani dahshatli narsa sodir bo'lishi haqidagi chuqur, og'riqli tuyg'uni anglatardi. Bir yil oldin noma'lum samolyot ikki marta jamiyatni bosib o'tganida, u shunday qo'rqib ketdi. U buni ikki marta ko'rgan edi. Osmonga ko'zini qisib, u yuqori tezlikda deyarli xiralashgan silliq samolyotning o'tib ketayotganini ko'rdi va bir soniyadan so'ng uning ortidan kelgan tovushni eshitdi. Keyin yana bir marta, bir lahzadan keyin, qarama-qarshi tomondan, xuddi shu tekislik.
Avvaliga u faqat hayratda edi. U hech qachon samolyotni bunchalik yaqin ko'rmagan edi, chunki bu uchuvchilarning jamiyat ustidan uchishi qoidalariga zid edi. Vaqti-vaqti bilan yuk samolyotlari bilan daryoning narigi tomonidagi qo'nish maydoniga etkazib berilganda, bolalar velosipedda daryo qirg'og'iga borishdi va g'arbga qarab, har doim jamoatdan uzoqda bo'lgan yuk tushirish va parvozni tomosha qilishdi.
Ammo bir yil oldin samolyot boshqacha edi. Bu cho'kkalab, semiz qorinli yuk samolyoti emas, balki igna burunli bitta uchuvchi reaktiv samolyot edi. Jonas atrofga xavotir bilan qararkan, kattalar ham, bolalar ham qilayotgan ishlarini to'xtatib, qo'rqinchli voqeani tushuntirishni kutishayotganini ko'rdi.
Keyin barcha fuqarolarga eng yaqin binoga kirishlari va u erda qolishlari buyurildi. Darhol , karnaylar orasidan xirillagan ovoz eshitildi. Velosipedlaringizni ULAR BO'LGAN YERDA QOLDIRING.
Bir zumda, itoatkorlik bilan Jonas velosipedini oilasining uyi orqasidagi yo'lga tashlab yubordi. U uyga yugurib chiqdi va u erda yolg'iz qoldi. Uning ota-onasi ikkalasi ham ishda edi, uning singlisi Lili esa bolalar bog'chasida edi, u erda u maktabdan keyingi vaqtlarini o'tkazdi.
Oldingi derazadan qaraganida, u hech kimni ko'rmadi: kunning o'sha vaqtida jamiyatda yashaydigan ko'cha tozalovchilar, landshaft ishchilari va oziq-ovqat yetkazib berish bo'yicha band bo'lgan kunduzgi ekipajning hech biri. U faqat tashlab ketilgan velosipedlarni u erda va yon tomonlarida ko'rdi; birida ko'tarilgan g'ildirak hamon sekin aylanardi.
O'shanda u qo'rqib ketgan edi. O'z jamiyatining jim, kutish hissi uning qornini ag'darib yubordi. U titrab ketdi.
Ammo bu hech narsa emas edi. Bir necha daqiqadan so'ng ma'ruzachilar yana chirsillashdi va hozirda tinchlantiruvchi va unchalik shoshilinch emas, uchuvchi uchuvchi uning navigatsiya ko'rsatmalarini noto'g'ri o'qib, noto'g'ri burilish qilganini tushuntirdi. Uchuvchi o'zining xatosi sezilmasdan oldin orqaga qaytishga harakat qilardi.
Aytishga hojat yo'q, U QO'YILADI , dedi ovoz, keyin sukunat. Bu so‘nggi xabarda istehzoli ohang bor edi, go‘yo Spiker buni kulgili deb topdi; Jonas esa bu qanday dahshatli gap ekanini bilsa ham, biroz jilmayib qo'ydi. O'z hissasini qo'shgan fuqaro uchun jamiyatdan ozod bo'lish yakuniy qaror, dahshatli jazo, muvaffaqiyatsizlikka uchragan bayonot edi.
Hatto bolalar ham o‘yinda bu so‘zni yengil ishlatsalar, qo‘lga tushmay qolgan yoki poygada qoqilib qolgan jamoadoshini masxara qilishsa, ularni ta’na qilishardi. Jonas buni bir marta qilgan edi, o'zining eng yaqin do'stiga baqirdi: “Bo'ldi, Asher! Siz ozodsiz!” Asherning qo'pol xatosi o'z jamoasi uchun o'yinda mag'lub bo'lganida. U murabbiy tomonidan qisqa va jiddiy suhbat uchun chetga olingan, ayb va xijolatdan boshini osgan va o'yindan keyin Asherdan kechirim so'ragan edi.
Endi u daryo yo'li bo'ylab uyiga pedallar bilan ketayotganda qanday qo'rquv hissi haqida o'ylarkan, samolyot tepada yo'l-yo'riq ko'targanida, qorni cho'kkan qo'rquvni esladi. Dekabr yaqinlashayotgan paytda u buni his qilmadi. U o'z his-tuyg'ularini tasvirlash uchun to'g'ri so'z izladi.
Jonas tilga ehtiyotkor edi. Uning do'sti Asher kabi juda tez gapiradigan va narsalarni aralashtirib yuboradigan, so'z va iboralarni zo'rg'a tanib bo'lmaguncha va ko'pincha juda kulgili bo'lgunga qadar chalkashtiradigan emas.
Jonas tirjayib, ertalab Asherning sinfga har doimgidek kech kirganini va ertalabki madhiyaning o'rtasiga nafas olomon etib kelganini esladi. Vatanparvarlik madhiyasi tugashi bilan sinf o‘z joylarini egallaganida, Asher talab qilinganidek, omma oldida uzr so‘rash uchun o‘rnidan turdi.
"O'quv hamjamiyatimni bezovta qilganim uchun uzr so'rayman." Asher odatdagi uzr so'rash iborasini tez yugurib o'tdi va hali ham nafasini rostlab oldi. O'qituvchi va sinf uning tushuntirishini sabr bilan kutishdi. Talabalarning hammasi tirjayishardi, chunki ular Asherning tushuntirishlarini avval ham ko'p marta tinglashgan.
“Men uydan kerakli vaqtda chiqib ketdim, lekin inkubator yaqinida otda ketayotganimda, ekipaj losos baliqlarini ajratib olishdi. Men ularni tomosha qilib, shunchaki xafa bo'ldim.
"Sinfdoshlarimdan kechirim so'rayman", - deya xulosa qildi Asher. G‘ijimlangan ko‘ylagini silliqlab o‘tirdi.
— Kechirimni qabul qilamiz, Asher. Sinf standart javobni bir ovozdan aytib berdi. O‘quvchilarning ko‘pchiligi kulmaslik uchun lablarini tishlashardi.
- Kechirimni qabul qilaman, Asher, - dedi instruktor. U jilmayib turardi. “Va sizga rahmat aytaman, chunki siz yana bir bor til darsi uchun imkoniyat yaratdingiz. “Distraught” so‘zi losos baliqlarini ko‘rishni tasvirlash uchun juda kuchli sifatdir”. U o'girilib, o'quv doskasiga "xafa bo'ldi" deb yozdi. Uning yonida u "chalg'itdi" deb yozgan.
Hozir uyiga yaqinlashayotgan Jonas eslab jilmayib qo'ydi. Hali o'ylab, velosipedini eshik yonidagi tor portiga o'tkazar ekan, u dekabr oyi yaqinlashib qolganda, qo'rquv uning his-tuyg'ularini tasvirlash uchun noto'g'ri so'z ekanligini tushundi. Bu juda kuchli sifat edi.
U bu maxsus dekabrni uzoq kutgan edi. Endi u deyarli qo'rqinchli emas edi, lekin u qo'rqmadi. . . - deb qaror qildi u. U kelishini intiqlik bilan kutardi. Va u hayajonlandi, albatta. Barcha Elevens yaqinda bo'ladigan voqeadan hayajonlanishdi.
Lekin nima bo‘lishi mumkinligini o‘ylaganida biroz asabiy qaltirab ketdi.
Jonas qo'rqib qaror qildi. Men shundayman.


"Kim bugun kechqurun his-tuyg'ular uchun birinchi bo'lishni xohlaydi?" — deb so'radi Jonasning otasi kechki ovqatlari oxirida.
Bu marosimlardan biri, kechki tuyg'ularni aytib berish edi. Ba'zan Jonas va uning singlisi Lili navbatma-navbat kim birinchi bo'lib borishi haqida bahslashardi. Ularning ota-onalari, albatta, marosimning bir qismi edi; ular ham har oqshom o'z his-tuyg'ularini aytib berishardi. Biroq, barcha ota-onalar, barcha kattalar singari, ular ham o'z navbatlarini so'rashmadi.
Jonas ham shu kechada. Bugun kechqurun uning his-tuyg'ulari juda murakkab edi. U ularni baham ko'rishni xohladi, lekin u o'zining murakkab his-tuyg'ularini, hatto ota-onasi yordam berishi mumkinligini bilgan holda, saralash jarayonini boshlashni xohlamadi.
- Sen ket, Lili, - dedi u o'zidan ancha yoshroq - yetti yoshda bo'lgan singlisini ko'rib, sabrsizlik bilan kursida.
"Bugun tushdan keyin men juda g'azablandim", dedi Lili. “Mening bolalar bog'cham o'yin maydonchasida edi va bizda yettilikdan iborat guruh bor edi va ular qoidalarga umuman bo'ysunmasdi. Ulardan biri - erkak; Men uning ismini bilmayman - hammamiz kutayotgan bo'lsak ham, slaydni o'tkazish uchun oldingi qatorga borishni davom ettirdi. Men unga juda g'azablandim. Men qo‘limni shunday qilib musht qilib qo‘ydim”. U siqilgan mushtini ko'tardi va qolgan oila a'zolari uning kichik bo'ysunuvchi jestiga tabassum qilishdi.
"Sizningcha, nega mehmonlar qoidalarga rioya qilmadilar?" — deb so‘radi ona.
Lili o'yladi va boshini chayqadi. "Bilmadim. Ular kabi harakat qilishdi. . . kabi. . ”.
"Hayvonlar?" Jonas taklif qildi. U kulib yubordi.
- To'g'ri, - dedi Lili ham kulib. "Hayvonlar kabi." Hech bir bola bu so'z nimani anglatishini aniq bilmasdi, lekin ko'pincha o'qimagan yoki qo'pol, mos kelmaydigan odamni tasvirlash uchun ishlatilgan.
— Mehmonlar qayerdan edi? — deb so‘radi ota.
Lili eslashga urinib, qoshlarini chimirdi. “Rahbarimiz tabrik so'zini aytganida bizga aytdi, lekin eslay olmayman. Men e'tibor bermadim shekilli. Bu boshqa jamoadan edi. Ular juda erta ketishlari kerak edi va ular tushliklarini avtobusda qilishdi ».
Onam bosh irg‘adi. "Sizningcha, ularning qoidalari boshqacha bo'lishi mumkinmi? Shunday qilib, ular sizning o'yin maydoningiz qoidalarini bilishmaganmi?
Lili yelka qisib, bosh irg‘adi. "Nazarimda."
"Siz boshqa jamoalarga tashrif buyurgansiz, shunday emasmi?" — soʻradi Jonas. "Mening guruhim ko'pincha shunday bo'ladi."
Lili yana bosh irg'adi. "Biz olti yoshda bo'lganimizda, biz borib, ularning jamoasidagi oltitalar guruhi bilan butun bir maktab kunini o'tkazdik."
"U erda bo'lganingizda o'zingizni qanday his qildingiz?"
Lili qoshlarini chimirdi. “Men o'zimni g'alati his qildim. Chunki ularning usullari boshqacha edi. Ular mening guruhim hali o'rganmagan foydalanishni o'rganishdi, shuning uchun biz o'zimizni ahmoqdek his qildik."
Ota qiziqish bilan tinglardi. "Men Lili, - dedi u, - bugun qoidalarga bo'ysunmagan bola haqida o'ylayapman. Nima deb o'ylaysiz, u o'zini o'zi bilmagan qoidalarga ega yangi joyda o'zini g'alati va ahmoq his qilgan bo'lishi mumkinmi?"
Lili bu haqda o'yladi. - Ha, - dedi u nihoyat.
"Men unga bir oz achinaman," dedi Jonas, "men uni tanimasam ham. Men o'zini g'alati va ahmoq his qiladigan joyda bo'lgan har bir kishiga achinaman."
- Hozir o'zingizni qanday his qilyapsiz, Lili? — deb so‘radi ota. "Hali ham jahlingiz bormi?"
"Menimcha, yo'q", deb qaror qildi Lili. “Menimcha, men unga biroz achinaman. Va musht qilganimdan afsusdaman." U jilmayib qo'ydi.
Jonas singlisiga qarab tabassum qildi. Lilyning his-tuyg'ulari har doim oddiy, juda oddiy va odatda hal qilish oson edi. U etti yoshga to'lganida o'ziniki ham shunday bo'lgan, deb taxmin qildi.
Otasi o‘z navbatini olganida, u o‘sha kuni ish joyida o‘tkazgan tashvish hissini tasvirlab, unchalik diqqat bilan bo‘lmasa-da, xushmuomalalik bilan tingladi: yangi bolalardan birining ahvoli yaxshi emasligi haqida. Jonasning otasining unvoni Nurturer edi. U va boshqa tarbiyachilar har bir yangi tug'ilgan chaqaloqning barcha jismoniy va hissiy ehtiyojlari uchun javobgar edilar. Bu juda muhim ish, Jonas bilar edi, lekin uni unchalik qiziqtirmasdi.
"Bu qanday jins?" – so‘radi Lili.
- Erkak, - dedi otam. “U yoqimli xulq-atvorga ega bo'lgan shirin yigit. Ammo u kerakli darajada tez o'smaydi va uxlamaydi. Biz uni qo'shimcha parvarishlash bo'limida qo'ydik, ammo qo'mita uni ozod qilish haqida gapira boshladi.
- Yo'q , - deb g'o'ldiradi onam hamdardlik bilan. "Bu sizni qanchalik qayg'uli his qilishini bilaman."
Jonas va Lili ham hamdardlik bilan bosh chayqadi. Yangi bolalarni ozod qilish har doim qayg'uli edi, chunki ular hali jamiyatda hayotdan zavqlanish imkoniga ega emas edilar. Va ular hech qanday yomon ish qilmaganlar.
Faqat ikki marta ozodlikdan mahrum qilingan, ular jazolanmagan. Keksalarni ozod qilish, bu yaxshi va to'liq yashash uchun bayram vaqti edi; va yangi bolani ozod qilish, bu har doim biz nima qila oldik degan tuyg'uni keltirib chiqardi. Bu, ayniqsa, otasi kabi tarbiyachilarni qayg'uga solardi, ular qandaydir tarzda muvaffaqiyatsizlikka uchradilar. Ammo bu juda kamdan-kam hollarda sodir bo'ldi.
- Xo'sh, - dedi dadam, - men harakat qilishda davom etaman. Qarshi boʻlmasangiz, kechasi uni bu yerga olib kelish uchun qoʻmitadan ruxsat soʻrashim mumkin. Tungi ekipaj Nurturers qanday ekanligini bilasiz. Menimcha, bu kichkina odamga qo'shimcha narsa kerak."
"Albatta", dedi onam va Jonas va Lili bosh irg'adi. Ular otamning tungi ekipaj haqida shikoyat qilganini eshitgan edi. Bu kunduzi eng muhim ishlarga qiziqish, ko'nikma yoki tushunchaga ega bo'lmaganlarga tayinlangan kamroq ish, tungi ekipajni tarbiyalash edi. Tungi ekipaj a'zolarining ko'pchiligiga turmush o'rtog'i ham berilmagan, chunki ular qandaydir tarzda boshqalar bilan bog'lanish qobiliyatiga ega emaslar, bu esa oilaviy birlikni yaratish uchun zarurdir.
"Balki biz uni saqlab qolar edik", dedi Lili begunoh ko'rinishga urinib, shirinlik bilan. Ko'rinishi soxta edi, Jonas bilardi; hammasi bilishardi.
- Liliya, - deb eslatdi onasi jilmayib, - siz qoidalarni bilasiz.
Har bir oila uchun ikkita bola - bitta erkak, bitta ayol. Qoidalarda juda aniq yozilgan edi.
Lili kuldi. - Xo'sh, - dedi u, - men bir marta o'yladim.


So‘ngra Adliya vazirligida katta lavozimda ishlagan onaxon o‘z his-tuyg‘ulari haqida gapirdi. Bugun uning oldiga yana bir marta huquqbuzarlik qilgan, avval qoidalarni buzgan odam olib kelindi. U umid qilgan kishi munosib va adolatli jazolandi va o'z joyiga qaytarildi: ish joyiga, uyiga, oilasiga. Uning ikkinchi marta uning oldiga olib kelinganini ko'rish uning g'azabini va g'azabini qo'zg'atdi. Va hatto uning hayotida o'zgarishlar qilmagani uchun aybdor.
"Men ham uning uchun qo'rqaman", deb tan oldi u. “Siz uchinchi imkoniyat yo'qligini bilasiz. Qoidalarga ko'ra, agar uchinchi qoidabuzarlik bo'lsa, u shunchaki ozod qilinishi kerak. Jonas titrab ketdi. Bu sodir bo'lganini bilardi. Hatto o'zining "Evens" guruhida bir bola ham bor edi, uning otasi bir necha yillar oldin ozod qilingan edi. Bu haqda hech kim eslatmagan; sharmandalik so'zlab bo'lmas edi. Tasavvur qilish qiyin edi.
Lili o'rnidan turib, onasiga bordi. Onasining qo‘lini silab qo‘ydi.
Dadam stol yonidagi joyidan qo‘l cho‘zdi va uning qo‘lidan ushlab oldi. Jonas ikkinchisiga qo'l uzatdi.
Ular birin-ketin unga tasalli berishdi. Tez orada u tabassum qildi, ularga rahmat aytdi va o'zini tinchlantirganini aytdi.
Marosim davom etdi. — Jonas? — deb so‘radi ota. "Siz bu kecha oxirgisiz."
Jonas xo'rsindi. Bu oqshom u deyarli his-tuyg'ularini yashirishni afzal ko'rardi. Lekin bu, albatta, qoidalarga zid edi.
“Men xavotirdaman”, deb tan oldi u, nihoyat unga tegishli tavsiflovchi so'z kelganidan xursand bo'lib.
— Nega shunday, o‘g‘lim? Otasi xavotirlanib qaradi.
"Men tashvishlanadigan hech narsa yo'qligini bilaman," deb tushuntirdi Jonas, "va har bir kattalar buni boshidan kechirgan. Bilaman, sizda, ota, sizda ham, ona. Lekin bu meni qo'rqitadigan marosimdir. Dekabrga oz qoldi”.
Lili ko‘zlari katta-katta katta qaradi. "O'n ikkining marosimi", deb pichirladi u qo'rqinchli ovozda. Hatto eng kichik bolalar ham - Lilining yoshi va undan kichiklari - bu ularning har birining kelajakdagiligini bilishardi.
"Bizga his-tuyg'ularingizni aytib berganingizdan xursandman", dedi otam.
- Liliya, - dedi onasi qizchaga imo qilib, - davom et, tungi kiyimlaringga kiring. Dadam bilan men shu yerda qolib, Jonas bilan biroz gaplashamiz”.
Lili xo'rsindi, lekin itoatkorlik bilan kursidan tushdi. "Shaxsiymi?" — so‘radi u.
Onam bosh irg‘adi. - Ha, - dedi u, - bu suhbat Jonas bilan alohida bo'ladi.

Ikki

Jonas otasining yangi piyola kofe quyayotganini tomosha qildi. U kutdi.
- Bilasizmi, - dedi nihoyat otasi, - yoshligimda men uchun har dekabr hayajonli edi. Ishonchim komilki, bu siz va Lili uchun ham bo'lgan. Har bir dekabr shunday o'zgarishlarni olib keladi."
Jonas bosh irg'adi. U dekabr oylarini, ehtimol, to'rtlikka aylanganini eslay olardi. Undan oldingilar yo'qolgan. Lekin u har yili ularni kuzatar va Lilining eng birinchi dekabrlarini esladi. U oilasi Lilini qabul qilganini, unga ism qo'yilgan kunni, u Yagona bo'lgan kunni esladi.
Birlar uchun marosim har doim shovqinli va qiziqarli o'tdi. Har yili dekabr oyida o'tgan yili tug'ilgan barcha yangi bolalar bir yoshga to'ldi. Birma-bir — har yili guruhda har doim ellik kishi bo‘lardi, agar hech kim qo‘yib yuborilmagan bo‘lsa, — ularni tug‘ilganidan beri g‘amxo‘rlik qilgan tarbiyachilar sahnaga olib chiqishgan. Ba'zilari allaqachon oyoqlarida qaltirab yurgan; boshqalari bir necha kundan oshmagan, adyolga o'ralgan, tarbiyachilari tomonidan ushlab turilgan.
"Menga nom berish yoqadi", dedi Jonas.
Onasi jilmayib rozi bo‘ldi. “Lilini olgan yili biz, albatta, ayolimizni qabul qilishimizni bilardik, chunki biz arizamizni topshirdik va ma'qullandik. Lekin men uning ismi nima bo'lishini o'ylab, hayron bo'lgandim."
"Men marosim oldidan ro'yxatni ko'zdan kechirishim mumkin edi", dedi otam. “Qo'mita har doim ro'yxatni oldindan tuzadi va u o'sha erda tarbiya markazidagi ofisda joylashgan.
"Aslida, - deb davom etdi u, - bu borada o'zimni biroz aybdor his qilyapman. Ammo men bugun tushdan keyin bordim va bu yilgi nomlash ro'yxati hali tuzilganmi yoki yo'qligini tekshirdim. U o'sha yerda ofisda edi va men o'ttiz olti raqamni qidirdim - bu meni tashvishga solgan kichkina yigit edi - chunki agar men uni ism bilan chaqirsam, uning tarbiyasi kuchayishi mumkinligi xayolimga keldi. Faqat shaxsiy, albatta, atrofda hech kim bo'lmaganida."
— Topdingizmi? — soʻradi Jonas. U hayratga tushdi. Bu unchalik muhim qoida emasdek tuyuldi, lekin otasining qoidani buzgani uni umuman hayratda qoldirdi. U qoidalarga rioya qilish uchun mas'ul bo'lgan onasiga qaradi va uning jilmayganidan xotirjam bo'ldi.
Otasi bosh irg‘adi. "Uning ismi - agar u ozod qilinmasdan ismga kirsa, albatta - Jabroil bo'ladi. Shuning uchun men uni har to'rt soatda ovqatlantirganimda, mashq va o'yin vaqtida unga pichirlayman. Agar meni hech kim eshitmasa.
"Men uni Gabe deb chaqiraman," dedi u va jilmayib qo'ydi.
"Gabe." Jonas buni sinab ko'rdi. Yaxshi ism, deb qaror qildi u.
Garchi Jonas Lilini sotib olib, uning ismini bilgan yili endigina beshlikka kirgan bo'lsa-da, u hayajonni, uydagi suhbatlarni esladi va u haqida hayron bo'ldi: u qanday ko'rinishga ega bo'ladi, kim bo'ladi, ularning mustahkam oilasiga qanday mos keladi? birlik. U o'sha yili ota-onasi, otasi bilan birga ota-onasi bilan birga sahnaga ko'tarilganini esladi, chunki u yangi farzandli bo'lgan yil edi.
Hujjat yig‘ilgan oila bo‘linmalariga o‘qib eshittirilar ekan, u onasi yangi farzandini, singlisini bag‘riga olganini esladi. "Yigirma uch yoshda," deb o'qidi Nomyor. "Lily."
U otasining zavqli nigohini esladi va otasining pichirlaganini esladi: “U mening sevimlilarimdan biri. Men uni shunday deb umid qilgandim." Olomon qarsak chaldi, Jonas esa tirjaydi. U singlisining ismini yoqtirardi. Zo'rg'a uyg'ongan Lili kichkina mushtini silkitdi. Keyin ular keyingi oila bo'linmasi uchun joy ajratish uchun ketishdi.
"Men o'n bir yoshda bo'lganimda, - dedi hozir otasi, - siz kabi, Jonas, men juda sabrsiz edim, o'n ikkilarning marosimini kutardim. Bu uzoq ikki kun. Esimda, har doimgidek “O‘shalar”dan zavqlanardim, lekin opamnikidan boshqa marosimlarga unchalik ahamiyat bermasdim. O'sha yili u to'qqizlik bo'ldi va velosiped oldi. Men unga o'zimni minishni o'rgatgan edim, garchi texnik jihatdan men buni qilmasligim kerak edi.
Jonas kulib yubordi. Bu juda jiddiy qabul qilinmagan va deyarli har doim buzilgan bir nechta qoidalardan biri edi. Bolalarning barchasi velosipedlarini To'qqizda oldilar; oldin ularga velosiped haydashga ruxsat berilmagan. Ammo deyarli har doim katta aka-uka va opa-singillar kichiklarga yashirincha dars berishgan. Jonas allaqachon Lilyga dars berish haqida o'ylagan edi.
Qoidani o'zgartirish va velosipedlarni erta yoshda berish haqida gapirildi. Qo'mita bu g'oyani o'rganayotgan edi. Komitetga biror narsa o‘rganish uchun ketganida, odamlar bu haqda doim hazil qilishardi. Qoidaga oʻzgartirish kiritilgunga qadar qoʻmita aʼzolari oqsoqol boʻlib qolishini aytishdi.
Qoidalarni o'zgartirish juda qiyin edi. Ba'zan, agar bu juda muhim qoida bo'lsa - velosipedlar uchun yoshni tartibga soluvchi qoidadan farqli o'laroq - u oxir-oqibat qaror qabul qilish uchun qabul qiluvchiga borishi kerak edi. Qabul qiluvchi eng muhim oqsoqol edi. Jonas uni hech qachon ko'rmagan, o'zi bilgan; bunday muhim lavozimdagi kimdir yolg'iz yashab, ishlagan. Ammo qo'mita velosipedlar haqidagi savol bilan "Qabul qiluvchini" hech qachon bezovta qilmaydi; Ular shunchaki xafa bo'lishadi va yillar davomida o'zlari bu haqda bahslashardilar, toki fuqarolar u ularga o'qish uchun kelganini unutib qo'yishadi.
Otasi davom etdi. "Shunday qilib, singlim Katya to'qqizta bo'lib, sochlarini yechib, velosipedini olganini ko'rdim va xursand bo'ldim", dedi otam. “Keyin men “O‘nlik va o‘n birlik”ga unchalik ahamiyat bermadim. Va nihoyat, abadiy davom etayotgandek tuyulgan ikkinchi kunning oxirida navbat menga keldi. Bu o'n ikkilarning marosimi edi."
Jonas titrab ketdi. U uyatchan va sokin bola bo'lgan otasini tasavvur qildi, chunki u uyatchan va sokin odam edi, o'z guruhi bilan o'tirib, sahnaga chaqirilishini kutardi. O'n ikkining marosimi marosimlarning oxirgisi edi. Eng muhimi.
“Ota-onamning, singlimning ham mag'rur ko'rinishini eslayman; u velosipedda jamoat oldida chiqishni xohlagan bo'lsa ham, u qimirlamaslikni to'xtatdi va mening navbatim kelganda juda jim va diqqatli edi.
- Rostini aytsam, Jonas, - dedi otasi, - men uchun marosimingizda shubhali narsa yo'q edi. Chunki men topshirig'im nima bo'lishiga allaqachon ishonchim komil edi."
Jonas hayron bo'ldi. Oldindan bilishning iloji yo'q edi. Bu mas'uliyatni shu qadar jiddiy o'z zimmasiga olgan jamiyat rahbarlari, oqsoqollar qo'mitasi tomonidan amalga oshirilgan yashirin tanlov ediki, Topshiriqlar haqida hatto hazil ham bo'lmagan.
Onasi ham hayron bo'lib qoldi. "Siz qayerdan bildingiz?" — so‘radi u.
Otasi uning muloyim tabassumiga jilmayib qo'ydi. "Xo'sh, men uchun tushunarli edi - va keyin ota-onam tan olishdi, bu ularga ham ayon bo'lgan - mening qobiliyatim nima. Men har doim yangi bolalarni hamma narsadan ko'proq yaxshi ko'raman. Mening yoshimdagi do'stlarim velosiped poygalarini o'tkazayotganda yoki o'yinchoq mashinalar yoki qurilish to'plamlari bilan ko'priklar qurishganida, yoki ..."
"Men do'stlarim bilan qiladigan barcha ishlarni", deb ta'kidladi Jonas va onasi rozilik bilan bosh irg'adi.
“Albatta, men har doim ishtirok etganman, chunki biz bolaligimizda bularning barchasini boshdan kechirishimiz kerak. Men ham maktabda astoydil o‘qiganman, Jonas. Lekin yana va yana, bo'sh vaqtimda men o'zimni yangi bolalarga jalb qilardim. Men deyarli barcha ixtiyoriy soatlarimni tarbiya markazida yordam berishga sarfladim. Albatta, oqsoqollar buni o'zlarining kuzatishlaridan bilishgan.
Jonas bosh irg'adi. O'tgan yil davomida u kuzatuv darajasi ortib borayotganidan xabardor edi. Maktabda, dam olish vaqtida va ixtiyoriy soatlarda u oqsoqollar uni va boshqa o'n birlarni kuzatib turganini payqagan edi. U ularni yozib olishlarini ko'rgan edi. U, shuningdek, oqsoqollar o'zi va boshqa o'n birlar maktab yillarida bo'lgan barcha o'qituvchilar bilan uzoq soatlar davomida uchrashishlarini bilar edi.
"Shunday qilib, men buni kutgan edim va mening topshirig'im tarbiyachi sifatida e'lon qilinganidan xursand bo'ldim, lekin umuman hayron bo'lmadim", deb tushuntirdi otam.
"Hamma hayron bo'lmasa ham olqishladimi?" — soʻradi Jonas.
“Oh, albatta. Ular men uchun xursand bo'lishdi, mening topshirig'im men eng ko'p xohlagan narsam edi. Men o‘zimni juda baxtli his qildim”. Otasi jilmayib qo'ydi.
"O'n birlar sizning yilingizdan hafsalasi pir bo'lganmi?" — soʻradi Jonas. Otasidan farqli o'laroq, u qanday topshiriq bo'lishini bilmas edi. Ammo u ba'zilar uning hafsalasi pir bo'lishini bilardi. Otasining mehnatini hurmat qilsa-da, Nurturer unga tilakdosh bo‘lmasdi. Va u mehnatkashlarga umuman havas qilmasdi.
Otasi o'yladi. “Yo'q, men bunday deb o'ylamayman. Albatta, oqsoqollar o'zlarining kuzatishlari va tanlovlarida juda ehtiyotkor.
"Menimcha, bu bizning jamiyatimizdagi eng muhim ishdir", dedi uning onasi.
"Mening do'stim Yoshiko uning shifokor sifatida tanlanganidan hayratda qoldi," dedi otam, "lekin u juda hayajonlandi. Keling, ko'ramiz, Andrey bor edi - eslayman, biz bolaligimizda u hech qachon jismoniy ishlarni qilishni xohlamagan. U qo'lidan kelgan barcha dam olish vaqtini qurilish majmuasi bilan o'tkazdi va uning ko'ngilli soatlari har doim qurilish maydonchalarida edi. Buni oqsoqollar bilishardi, albatta. Andreyga muhandislik topshirig'i berildi va u juda xursand bo'ldi.
"Andrey keyinchalik daryoni shahar g'arbida kesib o'tuvchi ko'prikni loyihalashtirdi", dedi Jonasning onasi. "Biz bolaligimizda u erda yo'q edi."
"Ko'ngilsizliklar kamdan-kam bo'ladi, Jonas. Menimcha, bu haqda tashvishlanishning hojati yo'q, - deb ishontirdi otasi. "Agar mavjud bo'lsa, apellyatsiya jarayoni borligini bilasiz." Ammo ularning hammasi kulishdi - o'qish uchun komissiyaga murojaat yo'lladi.
"Men Asherning topshirig'idan biroz xavotirdaman", deb tan oldi Jonas. “Asher juda qiziq . Ammo uning jiddiy qiziqishlari yo'q. U hamma narsadan o‘yin yaratadi”.
Otasi kulib yubordi. "Bilasizmi, - dedi u, - eslayman, Asher tarbiya markazida yangi bola bo'lganida, unga ism qo'yilmaydi. U hech qachon yig'lamagan. U hamma narsaga kulib kuldi. Barchamiz Asherni tarbiyalashdan zavq oldik”.
"Oqsoqollar Asherni bilishadi", dedi onasi. “Ular unga to'g'ri topshiriqni topadilar. Menimcha, siz u haqida qayg'urishingiz shart emas. Ammo, Jonas, sizni xayolingizga kelmagan narsa haqida ogohlantirmoqchiman. Bilaman, men o'n ikki kishilik marosimimdan keyin bu haqda o'ylamaganman».
"Nima u?"
“Xo'sh, bu siz bilganingizdek, marosimlarning oxirgisi. O'n ikkidan keyin yosh muhim emas. Ko'pchiligimiz vaqt o'tishi bilan necha yoshda ekanligimizni ham yo'qotamiz, garchi ma'lumotlar Ochiq yozuvlar zalida bo'lsa va agar xohlasak, borib, uni qidirishimiz mumkin. Muhimi, kattalar hayotiga tayyorgarlik va topshiriqda oladigan ta'limdir».
"Men buni bilaman", dedi Jonas. "Buni hamma biladi."
"Ammo bu degani, - davom etdi onasi, - siz yangi guruhga o'tasiz. Va har bir do'stingiz bo'ladi. Siz endi vaqtingizni Elevens guruhi bilan o'tkazmaysiz. O'n ikkilar marosimidan so'ng, siz o'z topshiriq guruhingiz, mashg'ulot o'tayotganlar bilan birga bo'lasiz. Boshqa ixtiyoriy soatlar yo'q. Boshqa dam olish vaqti yo'q. Shunday qilib, sizning do'stlaringiz endi yaqin bo'lmaydi.
Jonas boshini chayqadi. "Asher va men doimo do'st bo'lib qolamiz", dedi u qat'iy ohangda. "Va hali ham maktab bo'ladi."
"Bu rost", deb rozi bo'ldi otasi. “Ammo onangning aytganlari ham rost. O'zgarishlar bo'ladi."
" Yaxshi o'zgarishlar bo'lsa-da", deb ta'kidladi onasi. “O'n ikki kishilik marosimimdan so'ng men bolalikdagi dam olishni sog'indim. Ammo men “Qonun va adolat” bo‘yicha treningga kirganimda, men o‘zimni qiziqtirgan odamlar bilan uchrashdim. Men yangi darajadagi do'stlar orttirdim, barcha yoshdagi do'stlar.
"O'n ikkidan keyin ham o'ynaganmisiz?" — soʻradi Jonas.
"Ba'zan", deb javob berdi onasi. "Ammo bu men uchun unchalik muhim emas edi."
- Men qildim, - dedi otasi kulib. “Hali ham shunday qilaman. Men har kuni Tarbiya markazida tizzada sakrash, ko‘z-ko‘z qilish va o‘yinchoqni quchoqlash kabi o‘yinlarni o‘ynayman”. U yoniga yetib, Jonasning chiroyli qirqilgan sochlarini silab qo‘ydi. "O'n ikki yoshga to'lganingizda, o'yin-kulgi tugamaydi."
Eshik oldida tungi kiyimlarini kiygan Lili paydo bo'ldi. U sabrsiz xo'rsinib qo'ydi. "Bu, albatta, juda uzoq shaxsiy suhbat", dedi u. "Va ba'zi odamlar o'zlarining qulayliklarini kutmoqdalar."
- Lili, - dedi onasi mehr bilan, - siz Sakkizlik bo'lishga juda yaqinsiz va sakkiz yoshga to'lganingizda, sizning konfor narsangiz olib tashlanadi. U yosh bolalarga qayta ishlanadi. Siz usiz uxlashni boshlashingiz kerak."
Ammo otasi allaqachon javonga borib, u erda saqlanadigan to'ldirilgan filni tushirib yuborgan edi. Lily kabi qulay narsalarning ko'pchiligi yumshoq, to'ldirilgan, xayoliy mavjudotlar edi. Jonasni ayiq deb atashgan.
"Mana, Lili-billi", dedi u. "Men sizga soch lentalaringizni olib tashlashga yordam beraman."
Jonas va uning onasi ko'zlarini yumib oldilar, lekin ular Lili va uning otasi tug'ilganda unga qulaylik sifatida sovg'a qilingan to'ldirilgan fil bilan uxlayotgan xonasiga borishlarini mehr bilan kuzatib turishdi. Onasi katta stoliga o'tib, portfelini ochdi; Uning ishi, hatto kechqurun uyda bo'lsa ham, hech qachon tugamagandek tuyulardi. Jonas o'z stoliga o'tib, kechki topshiriq uchun maktab hujjatlarini saralay boshladi. Ammo uning fikri hali dekabr va kelayotgan Marosimda edi.
Garchi ota-onasi bilan suhbat uni tinchlantirgan bo'lsa-da, oqsoqollar uning kelajagi uchun qanday topshiriqni tanlashini yoki kun kelganda bu haqda qanday fikrda bo'lishini zarracha tasavvuriga ham keltirmasdi.

Uch

"Oh, qarang!" Lili xursand bo'lib chiyilladi. “U yoqimli emasmi? Qarang, u qanchalik kichkina! Uning ham siznikidek kulgili ko'zlari bor, Jonas! Jonas unga qaradi. Uning ko'zlarini tilga olgani unga yoqmadi. U otasining Lilini jazolashini kutdi. Ammo dadam velosipedining orqa qismidagi savatni yechish bilan band edi. Jonas qarash uchun yurdi.
Savatdan qiziqish bilan qaragan yangi bolaga qaragan Jonas birinchi bo'lib buni payqadi. Oqargan ko'zlar.
Jamiyatdagi deyarli har bir fuqaroning ko'zlari qora edi. Uning ota-onasi ham, Lili ham, uning barcha guruh a'zolari va do'stlari ham shunday qilishdi. Ammo bir nechta istisnolar bor edi: Jonasning o'zi va u ko'rgan Beshlik ayolning ko'zlari boshqacha, engilroq edi. Hech kim bunday narsalarni aytmagan; bu qoida emas edi, lekin odamlarni bezovta qiladigan yoki boshqacha bo'lgan narsalarga e'tiborni jalb qilish qo'pol hisoblangan. Lili buni tez orada o'rganishi kerak deb qaror qildi, aks holda u befarq suhbati uchun jazoga chaqiriladi.
Ota velosipedini portiga qo'ydi. Keyin savatni olib, uyga olib kirdi. Lili orqasidan ergashdi, lekin u Jonasga yelkasiga qaradi va masxara qildi: "Ehtimol, uning ham siz bilan bir xil tug'ilgan onasi bo'lgandir".
Jonas yelka qisdi. Ularning ortidan ichkariga kirdi. Ammo u yangi bolaning ko'zlaridan cho'chib ketgan edi. Jamiyatda nometall kamdan-kam uchraydi; ular ta'qiqlanmagan, lekin ularga hech qanday ehtiyoj yo'q edi va Jonas hatto ko'zgu bor joyda o'zini ko'rganida ham o'ziga tez-tez qarashni ovora qilmasdi. Endi yangi chaqaloqni va uning qiyofasini ko'rib, u engil ko'zlar nafaqat kamdan-kam uchraydigan narsa ekanligini, balki ularni ko'rgan odamga qandaydir ko'rinish berganini eslatdi - bu nima edi? Chuqurlik, u qaror qildi; go'yo daryoning tiniq suviga, tubiga qarab, hali kashf etilmagan narsalar yashirinishi mumkin bo'lgan joyda. U o'zini his qildi, o'zida ham shunday ko'rinish borligini angladi.
U yangi bolaga qiziqmagandek qilib, stoliga bordi. Xonaning narigi tomonida dadam ko‘rpani yechayotganini ko‘rish uchun onasi bilan Lili egilib turishardi.
"Uning qulay ob'ekti nima deb ataladi?" — deb so'radi Lili, savatdagi yangi bolaning yoniga qo'yilgan to'ldirilgan jonivorni olib.
Dadam unga qaradi. "Begemot", dedi u.
Lili g'alati so'zdan kulib yubordi. "Begemot", deb takrorladi u va yana qulay narsalarni qo'ydi. U qo'llarini silkitgan o'rami ochilmagan yangi bolaga qaradi.
"Menimcha, yangi bolalar juda yoqimli", dedi Lili xo'rsinib. "Umid qilamanki, menga tug'ilgan ona bo'lish tayinlanadi."
"Liliya!" Onam juda keskin gapirdi. “Unday dema. Bu topshiriqda sharaf juda kam.”
"Ammo men Natasha bilan gaplashdim. Burchakda yashaydigan o'nlikni bilasizmi? U ko'ngillilik soatlarining bir qismini Tug'ilish markazida o'tkazadi. Va u menga tug'ilgan onalar ajoyib taomlar olishlarini va ular juda yumshoq mashq qilishlarini va ko'pincha ular kutish paytida shunchaki o'yin o'ynashlarini va o'yin-kulgi qilishlarini aytdi. Menimcha, bu menga yoqadi, - dedi Lili achchiqlanib.
"Uch yil", dedi onam unga qat'iy ravishda. “Uchta tug'ilish, va bu hammasi. Shundan so'ng, ular keksalar uyiga kiradigan kungacha, butun umrlari davomida mehnatkash bo'lishadi. Siz shuni xohlaysizmi, Lili? Uch yil dangasa, keyin qariguningizcha og'ir jismoniy mehnat?
"Xo'sh, yo'q, menimcha, yo'q", deb tan oldi Lili istamay.
Ota yangi bolani savatdagi qorniga aylantirdi. Uning yoniga o‘tirdi va ritmik harakatlar bilan uning kichkina orqa qismini ishqaladi. - Baribir, Lili-billi, - dedi u mehr bilan, - Tug'ilgan onalar hech qachon yangi bolalarni ko'rishmaydi. Agar siz kichkintoylardan juda xursand bo'lsangiz, siz tarbiyachi sifatida tayinlanishga umid qilishingiz kerak."
"Sakkiz yoshga to'lganingizda va ko'ngillilik soatlaringizni boshlaganingizda, tarbiya markazida bir oz sinab ko'rishingiz mumkin", dedi onam.
"Ha, men qilaman deb o'ylayman", dedi Lili. U savat yonida tiz cho'kdi. "Uning ismini nima dedingiz? Jabroil? Salom, Jabroil, - dedi u qo'shiq ovozida. Keyin u kulib yubordi. “Of,” deb pichirladi u. “Menimcha, u uxlayapti. O‘ylaymanki, jim bo‘lganim ma’qul”.
Jonas stol ustidagi maktab topshiriqlariga yuzlandi. Bunga qandaydir imkoniyat, deb o'yladi u. Lily hech qachon jim bo'lmagan. Ehtimol, u kun bo'yi ofisda mikrofon bilan o'tirib, e'lon qilish uchun Spiker sifatida tayinlanishiga umid qilishi kerak. U o'ziga o'zi indamay kuldi va singlisining barcha Ma'ruzachilarning o'ziga xos muhim ovozi bilan " DIQQAT" kabi gaplarni gapirayotganini tasavvur qildi. BU TO'QZ YOSHGA BO'LGAN AYOLLARGA SOCH TANOLARINI HAM ZAM O'ZBEK BOG'LANISH TUG'ILGAN ESLATMA .
U Lili tomon o'girildi va uning lentalari odatdagidek echilib, osilib turganini mamnuniyat bilan payqadi. Tez orada bunday e'lon bo'ladi, u aniq his qildi va u asosan Liliga qaratilgan bo'lardi, lekin uning ismi tilga olinmasa ham. Hamma bilardi.
DIQQAT bu e'lonni hamma bilar edi, xo'rlik bilan esladi. BU ERKAK O'N BIRINCHILARGA DAYoL HAYOTIDAN OB'YATLARNI KECHISH MUMKIN VA ARITISHLARNI YEYISH MUMKIN EMAS HAQIDA ESLATMA. O'tgan oy uyiga olma olib kelgan kuni unga qarata aytilgan edi. Bu haqda hech kim, hatto uning ota-onasi ham tilga olmadi, chunki ommaviy e'lon tegishli pushaymonlikni keltirib chiqarish uchun etarli edi. U, albatta, olmani tashlab, ertasi kuni ertalab, maktab oldidan dam olish direktoridan uzr so'radi.
Jonas yana o'sha voqea haqida o'yladi. U hali ham bundan hayratda edi. E'lon yoki zarur uzr bilan emas; Bu standart protseduralar edi va u bunga loyiq edi - lekin voqeaning o'zi. Ehtimol, o'sha kuni kechqurun oila a'zolari o'zlarining his-tuyg'ularini baham ko'rganlarida, u o'zini hayratda qoldirdi. Ammo u sarosimaga tushib, sarosimaga tushib qolganiga so'z aytolmadi, shuning uchun uni o'tkazib yubordi.
Bu u Asher bilan o'ynagan dam olish davrida sodir bo'lgan. Jonas gazaklar saqlanadigan savatdan beparvolik bilan olma olib, dugonasiga tashlagan edi. Asher uni orqaga tashladi va ular oddiy ushlash o'yinini boshlashdi.
Unda hech qanday maxsus narsa yo'q edi; bu uning son-sanoqsiz bajargan faoliyati edi: otish, ushlash; otish, ushlash. It was effortless for Jonas, and even boring, though Asher enjoyed it, and playing catch was a required activity for Asher because it would improve his hand-eye coordination, which was not up to standards.
But suddenly Jonas had noticed, following the path of the apple through the air with his eyes, that the piece of fruit had—well, this was the part that he couldn’t adequately understand—the apple had changed. Just for an instant. It had changed in mid-air, he remembered. Then it was in his hand, and he looked at it carefully, but it was the same apple. Unchanged. The same size and shape: a perfect sphere. The same nondescript shade, about the same shade as his own tunic.
There was absolutely nothing remarkable about that apple. He had tossed it back and forth between his hands a few times, then thrown it again to Asher. And again—in the air, for an instant only—it had changed.
It had happened four times. Jonas had blinked, looked around, and then tested his eyesight, squinting at the small print on the identification badge attached to his tunic. He read his name quite clearly. He could also clearly see Asher at the other end of the throwing area. And he had had no problem catching the apple.
Jonas had been completely mystified.
“Ash?” he had called. “Does anything seem strange to you? About the apple?”
“Yes,” Asher called back, laughing. “It jumps out of my hand onto the ground!” Asher had just dropped it once again.
So Jonas laughed too, and with his laughter tried to ignore his uneasy conviction that something had happened. But he had taken the apple home, against the recreation area rules. That evening, before his parents and Lily arrived at the dwelling, he had held it in his hands and looked at it carefully. It was slightly bruised now, because Asher had dropped it several times. But there was nothing at all unusual about the apple.
He had held a magnifying glass to it. He had tossed it several times across the room, watching, and then rolled it around and around on his desktop, waiting for the thing to happen again.
But it hadn’t. The only thing that happened was the announcement later that evening over the speaker, the announcement that had singled him out without using his name, that had caused both of his parents to glance meaningfully at his desk where the apple still lay.
Now, sitting at his desk, staring at his schoolwork as his family hovered over the newchild in its basket, he shook his head, trying to forget the odd incident. He forced himself to arrange his papers and try to study a little before the evening meal. The newchild, Gabriel, stirred and whimpered, and Father spoke softly to Lily, explaining the feeding procedure as he opened the container that held the formula and equipment.
The evening proceeded as all evenings did in the family unit, in the dwelling, in the community: quiet, reflective, a time for renewal and preparation for the day to come. It was different only in the addition to it of the newchild with his pale, solemn, knowing eyes.

Four

Jonas rode at a leisurely pace, glancing at the bikeports beside the buildings to see if he could spot Asher’s. He didn’t often do his volunteer hours with his friend because Asher frequently fooled around and made serious work a little difficult. But now, with Twelve coming so soon and the volunteer hours ending, it didn’t seem to matter.
The freedom to choose where to spend those hours had always seemed a wonderful luxury to Jonas; other hours of the day were so carefully regulated.
He remembered when he had become an Eight, as Lily would do shortly, and had been faced with that freedom of choice. The Eights always set out on their first volunteer hour a little nervously, giggling and staying in groups of friends. They almost invariably did their hours on Recreation Duty first, helping with the younger ones in a place where they still felt comfortable. But with guidance, as they developed self-confidence and maturity, they moved on to other jobs, gravitating toward those that would suit their own interests and skills.
A male Eleven named Benjamin had done his entire nearly-Four years in the Rehabilitation Center, working with citizens who had been injured. It was rumored that he was as skilled now as the Rehabilitation Directors themselves, and that he had even developed some machines and methods to hasten rehabilitation. There was no doubt that Benjamin would receive his Assignment to that field and would probably be permitted to bypass most of the training.
Jonas was impressed by the things Benjamin had achieved. He knew him, of course, since they had always been groupmates, but they had never talked about the boy’s accomplishments because such a conversation would have been awkward for Benjamin. There was never any comfortable way to mention or discuss one’s successes without breaking the rule against bragging, even if one didn’t mean to. It was a minor rule, rather like rudeness, punishable only by gentle chastisement. But still. Better to steer clear of an occasion governed by a rule which would be so easy to break.
The area of dwellings behind him, Jonas rode past the community structures, hoping to spot Asher’s bicycle parked beside one of the small factories or office buildings. He passed the Childcare Center where Lily stayed after school, and the play areas surrounding it. He rode through the Central Plaza and the large Auditorium where public meetings were held.
Jonas slowed and looked at the nametags on the bicycles lined up outside the Nurturing Center. Then he checked those outside Food Distribution; it was always fun to help with the deliveries, and he hoped he would find his friend there so that they could go together on the daily rounds, carrying the cartons of supplies into the dwellings of the community. But he finally found Asher’s bicycle—leaning, as usual, instead of upright in its port, as it should have been—at the House of the Old.
There was only one other child’s bicycle there, that of a female Eleven named Fiona. Jonas liked Fiona. She was a good student, quiet and polite, but she had a sense of fun as well, and it didn’t surprise him that she was working with Asher today. He parked his bicycle neatly in the port beside theirs and entered the building.
“Hello, Jonas,” the attendant at the front desk said. She handed him the sign-up sheet and stamped her own official seal beside his signature. All of his volunteer hours would be carefully tabulated at the Hall of Open Records. Once, long ago, it was whispered among the children, an Eleven had arrived at the Ceremony of Twelve only to hear a public announcement that he had not completed the required number of volunteer hours and would not, therefore, be given his Assignment. He had been permitted an additional month in which to complete the hours, and then given his Assignment privately, with no applause, no celebration: a disgrace that had clouded his entire future.
“It’s good to have some volunteers here today,” the attendant told him. “We celebrated a release this morning, and that always throws the schedule off a little, so things get backed up.” She looked at a printed sheet. “Let’s see. Asher and Fiona are helping in the bathing room. Why don’t you join them there? You know where it is, don’t you?”
Jonas nodded, thanked her, and walked down the long hallway. He glanced into the rooms on either side. The Old were sitting quietly, some visiting and talking with one another, others doing handwork and simple crafts. A few were asleep. Each room was comfortably furnished, the floors covered with thick carpeting. It was a serene and slow-paced place, unlike the busy centers of manufacture and distribution where the daily work of the community occurred.
Jonas was glad that he had, over the years, chosen to do his hours in a variety of places so that he could experience the differences. He realized, though, that not focusing on one area meant he was left with not the slightest idea—not even a guess—of what his Assignment would be.
He laughed softly. Thinking about the Ceremony again, Jonas? he teased himself. But he suspected that with the date so near, probably all of his friends were, too.
He passed a Caretaker walking slowly with one of the Old in the hall. “Hello, Jonas,” the young uniformed man said, smiling pleasantly. The woman beside him, whose arm he held, was hunched over as she shuffled along in her soft slippers. She looked toward Jonas and smiled, but her dark eyes were clouded and blank. He realized she was blind.
He entered the bathing room with its warm moist air and scent of cleansing lotions. He removed his tunic, hung it carefully on a wall hook, and put on the volunteer’s smock that was folded on a shelf.
“Hi, Jonas!” Asher called from the corner where he was kneeling beside a tub. Jonas saw Fiona nearby, at a different tub. She looked up and smiled at him, but she was busy, gently washing a man who lay in the warm water.
Jonas greeted them and the caretaking attendants at work nearby. Then he went to the row of padded lounging chairs where others of the Old were waiting. He had worked here before; he knew what to do.
“Your turn, Larissa,” he said, reading the nametag on the woman’s robe. “I’ll just start the water and then help you up.” He pressed the button on a nearby empty tub and watched as the warm water flowed in through the many small openings on the sides. The tub would be filled in a minute and the water flow would stop automatically.
He helped the woman from the chair, led her to the tub, removed her robe, and steadied her with his hand on her arm as she stepped in and lowered herself. She leaned back and sighed with pleasure, her head on a soft cushioned headrest.
“Comfortable?” he asked, and she nodded, her eyes closed. Jonas squeezed cleansing lotion onto the clean sponge at the edge of the tub and began to wash her frail body.
Last night he had watched as his father bathed the newchild. This was much the same: the fragile skin, the soothing water, the gentle motion of his hand, slippery with soap. The relaxed, peaceful smile on the woman’s face reminded him of Gabriel being bathed.
And the nakedness, too. It was against the rules for children or adults to look at another’s nakedness; but the rule did not apply to newchildren or the Old. Jonas was glad. It was a nuisance to keep oneself covered while changing for games, and the required apology if one had by mistake glimpsed another’s body was always awkward. He couldn’t see why it was necessary. He liked the feeling of safety here in this warm and quiet room; he liked the expression of trust on the woman’s face as she lay in the water unprotected, exposed, and free.
From the corner of his eye he could see his friend Fiona help the old man from the tub and tenderly pat his thin, naked body dry with an absorbant cloth. She helped him into his robe.
Jonas thought Larissa had drifted into sleep, as the Old often did, and he was careful to keep his motions steady and gentle so he wouldn’t wake her. He was surprised when she spoke, her eyes still closed.
“This morning we celebrated the release of Roberto,” she told him. “It was wonderful.”
“I knew Roberto!” Jonas said. “I helped with his feeding the last time I was here, just a few weeks ago. He was a very interesting man.”
Larissa opened her eyes happily. “They told his whole life before they released him,” she said. “They always do. But to be honest,” she whispered with a mischievous look, “some of the tellings are a little boring. I’ve even seen some of the Old fall asleep during tellings—when they released Edna recently. Did you know Edna?”
Jonas shook his head. He couldn’t recall anyone named Edna.
“Well, they tried to make her life sound meaningful. And of course,” she added primly, “all lives are meaningful, I don’t mean that they aren’t. But Edna. My goodness. She was a Birthmother, and then she worked in Food Production for years, until she came here. She never even had a family unit.”
Larissa lifted her head and looked around to make sure no one else was listening. Then she confided, “I don’t think Edna was very smart.”
Jonas laughed. He rinsed her left arm, laid it back into the water, and began to wash her feet. She murmured with pleasure as he massaged her feet with the sponge.
“But Roberto’s life was wonderful,” Larissa went on, after a moment. “He had been an Instructor of Elevens—you know how important that is—and he’d been on the Planning Committee. And—goodness, I don’t know how he found the time—he also raised two very successful children, and he was also the one who did the landscaping design for the Central Plaza. He didn’t do the actual labor, of course.”
“Now your back. Lean forward and I’ll help you sit up.” Jonas put his arm around her and supported her as she sat. He squeezed the sponge against her back and began to rub her sharp-boned shoulders. “Tell me about the celebration.”
“Well, there was the telling of his life. That is always first. Then the toast. We all raised our glasses and cheered. We chanted the anthem. He made a lovely good-bye speech. And several of us made little speeches wishing him well. I didn’t, though. I’ve never been fond of public speaking.
“He was thrilled. You should have seen the look on his face when they let him go.”
Jonas slowed the strokes of his hand on her back thoughtfully. “Larissa,” he asked, “what happens when they make the actual release? Where exactly did Roberto go?”
She lifted her bare wet shoulders in a small shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t think anybody does, except the committee. He just bowed to all of us and then walked, like they all do, through the special door in the Releasing Room. But you should have seen his look. Pure happiness, I’d call it.”
Jonas grinned. “I wish I’d been there to see it.”
Larissa frowned. “I don’t know why they don’t let children come. Not enough room, I guess. They should enlarge the Releasing Room.”
“We’ll have to suggest that to the committee. Maybe they’d study it,” Jonas said slyly, and Larissa chortled with laughter.
“Right!” she hooted, and Jonas helped her from the tub.

Five

Usually, at the morning ritual when the family members told their dreams, Jonas didn’t contribute much. He rarely dreamed. Sometimes he awoke with a feeling of fragments afloat in his sleep, but he couldn’t seem to grasp them and put them together into something worthy of telling at the ritual.
But this morning was different. He had dreamed very vividly the night before.
His mind wandered while Lily, as usual, recounted a lengthy dream, this one a frightening one in which she had, against the rules, been riding her mother’s bicycle and been caught by the Security Guards.
They all listened carefully and discussed with Lily the warning that the dream had given.
“Thank you for your dream, Lily.” Jonas said the standard phrase automatically, and tried to pay better attention while his mother told of a dream fragment, a disquieting scene where she had been chastised for a rule infraction she didn’t understand. Together they agreed that it probably resulted from her feelings when she had reluctantly dealt punishment to the citizen who had broken the major rules a second time.
Father said that he had had no dreams.
“Gabe?” Father asked, looking down at the basket where the newchild lay gurgling after his feeding, ready to be taken back to the Nurturing Center for the day.
They all laughed. Dream-telling began with Threes. If newchildren dreamed, no one knew.
“Jonas?” Mother asked. They always asked, though they knew how rarely Jonas had a dream to tell.
“I did dream last night,” Jonas told them. He shifted in his chair, frowning.
“Good,” Father said. “Tell us.”
“The details aren’t clear, really,” Jonas explained, trying to recreate the odd dream in his mind. “I think I was in the bathing room at the House of the Old.”
“That’s where you were yesterday,” Father pointed out.
Jonas nodded. “But it wasn’t really the same. There was a tub, in the dream. But only one. And the real bathing room has rows and rows of them. But the room in the dream was warm and damp. And I had taken off my tunic, but hadn’t put on the smock, so my chest was bare. I was perspiring, because it was so warm. And Fiona was there, the way she was yesterday.”
“Asher, too?” Mother asked.
Jonas shook his head. “No. It was only me and Fiona, alone in the room, standing beside the tub. She was laughing. But I wasn’t. I was almost a little angry at her, in the dream, because she wasn’t taking me seriously.”
“Seriously about what?” Lily asked.
Jonas looked at his plate. For some reason that he didn’t understand, he felt slightly embarrassed. “I think I was trying to convince her that she should get into the tub of water.”
He paused. He knew he had to tell it all, that it was not only all right but necessary to tell all of a dream. So he forced himself to relate the part that made him uneasy.
“I wanted her to take off her clothes and get into the tub,” he explained quickly. “I wanted to bathe her. I had the sponge in my hand. But she wouldn’t. She kept laughing and saying no.”
He looked up at his parents. “That’s all,” he said.
“Can you describe the strongest feeling in your dream, son?” Father asked.
Jonas thought about it. The details were murky and vague. But the feelings were clear, and flooded him again now as he thought. “The wanting,” he said. “I knew that she wouldn’t. And I think I knew that she shouldn’t. But I wanted it so terribly. I could feel the wanting all through me.”
“Thank you for your dream, Jonas,” Mother said after a moment. She glanced at Father.
“Lily,” Father said, “it’s time to leave for school. Would you walk beside me this morning and keep an eye on the newchild’s basket? We want to be certain he doesn’t wiggle himself loose.”
Jonas began to rise to collect his schoolbooks. He thought it surprising that they hadn’t talked about his dream at length before the thank you. Perhaps they found it as confusing as he had.
“Wait, Jonas,” Mother said gently. “I’ll write an apology to your instructor so that you won’t have to speak one for being late.”
He sank back down into his chair, puzzled. He waved to Father and Lily as they left the dwelling, carrying Gabe in his basket. He watched while Mother tidied the remains of the morning meal and placed the tray by the front door for the Collection Crew.
Finally she sat down beside him at the table. “Jonas,” she said with a smile, “the feeling you described as the wanting? It was your first Stirrings. Father and I have been expecting it to happen to you. It happens to everyone. It happened to Father when he was your age. And it happened to me. It will happen someday to Lily.
“And very often,” Mother added, “it begins with a dream.”
Stirrings. He had heard the word before. He remembered that there was a reference to the Stirrings in the Book of Rules, though he didn’t remember what it said. And now and then the Speaker mentioned it. ATTENTION. A REMINDER THAT STIRRINGS MUST BE REPORTED IN ORDER FOR TREATMENT TO TAKE PLACE.
He had always ignored that announcement because he didn’t understand it and it had never seemed to apply to him in any way. He ignored, as most citizens did, many of the commands and reminders read by the Speaker.
“Do I have to report it?” he asked his mother.
She laughed. “You did, in the dream-telling. That’s enough.”
“But what about the treatment? The Speaker says that treatment must take place.” Jonas felt miserable. Just when the Ceremony was about to happen, his Ceremony of Twelve, would he have to go away someplace for treatment? Just because of a stupid dream?
But his mother laughed again in a reassuring, affectionate way. “No, no,” she said. “It’s just the pills. You’re ready for the pills, that’s all. That’s the treatment for Stirrings.”
Jonas brightened. He knew about the pills. His parents both took them each morning. And some of his friends did, he knew. Once he had been heading off to school with Asher, both of them on their bikes, when Asher’s father had called from their dwelling doorway, “You forgot your pill, Asher!” Asher had groaned good-naturedly, turned his bike, and ridden back while Jonas waited.
It was the sort of thing one didn’t ask a friend about because it might have fallen into that uncomfortable category of “being different.” Asher took a pill each morning; Jonas did not. Always better, less rude, to talk about things that were the same.
Now he swallowed the small pill that his mother handed him.
“That’s all?” he asked.
“That’s all,” she replied, returning the bottle to the cupboard. “But you mustn’t forget. I’ll remind you for the first weeks, but then you must do it on your own. If you forget, the Stirrings will come back. The dreams of Stirrings will come back. Sometimes the dosage must be adjusted.”
“Asher takes them,” Jonas confided.
His mother nodded, unsurprised. “Many of your groupmates probably do. The males, at least. And they all will, soon. Females too.”
“How long will I have to take them?”
“Until you enter the House of the Old,” she explained. “All of your adult life. But it becomes routine; after a while you won’t even pay much attention to it.”
She looked at her watch. “If you leave right now, you won’t even be late for school. Hurry along.
“And thank you again, Jonas,” she added, as he went to the door, “for your dream.”
Pedaling rapidly down the path, Jonas felt oddly proud to have joined those who took the pills. For a moment, though, he remembered the dream again. The dream had felt pleasurable. Though the feelings were confused, he thought that he had liked the feelings that his mother had called Stirrings. He remembered that upon waking, he had wanted to feel the Stirrings again.
Then, in the same way that his own dwelling slipped away behind him as he rounded a corner on his bicycle, the dream slipped away from his thoughts. Very briefly, a little guiltily, he tried to grasp it back. But the feelings had disappeared. The Stirrings were gone.

Six

"Lily, please hold still,” Mother said again.
Lily, standing in front of her, fidgeted impatiently. “I can tie them myself,” she complained. “I always have.”
“I know that,” Mother replied, straightening the hair ribbons on the little girl’s braids. “But I also know that they constantly come loose and more often than not, they’re dangling down your back by afternoon. Today, at least, we want them to be neatly tied and to stay neatly tied.”
“I don’t like hair ribbons. I’m glad I only have to wear them one more year,” Lily said irritably. “Next year I get my bicycle, too,” she added more cheerfully.
“There are good things each year,” Jonas reminded her. “This year you get to start your volunteer hours. And remember last year, when you became a Seven, you were so happy to get your front-buttoned jacket?”
The little girl nodded and looked down at herself, at the jacket with its row of large buttons that designated her as a Seven. Fours, Fives, and Sixes all wore jackets that fastened down the back so that they would have to help each other dress and would learn interdependence.
The front-buttoned jacket was the first sign of independence, the first very visible symbol of growing up. The bicycle, at Nine, would be the powerful emblem of moving gradually out into the community, away from the protective family unit.
Lily grinned and wriggled away from her mother. “And this year you get your Assignment,” she said to Jonas in an excited voice. “I hope you get Pilot. And that you take me flying!”
“Sure I will,” said Jonas. “And I’ll get a special little parachute that just fits you, and I’ll take you up to, oh, maybe twenty thousand feet, and open the door, and—”
“Jonas,” Mother warned.
“I was only joking,” Jonas groaned. “I don’t want Pilot, anyway. If I get Pilot I’ll put in an appeal.”
“Come on,” Mother said. She gave Lily’s ribbons a final tug. “Jonas? Are you ready? Did you take your pill? I want to get a good seat in the Auditorium.” She prodded Lily to the front door and Jonas followed.
It was a short ride to the Auditorium, Lily waving to her friends from her seat on the back of Mother’s bicycle. Jonas stowed his bicycle beside Mother’s and made his way through the throng to find his group.
The entire community attended the Ceremony each year. For the parents, it meant two days holiday from work; they sat together in the huge hall. Children sat with their groups until they went, one by one, to the stage.
Father, though, would not join Mother in the audience right away. For the earliest ceremony, the Naming, the Nurturers brought the newchildren to the stage. Jonas, from his place in the balcony with the Elevens, searched the Auditorium for a glimpse of Father. It wasn’t at all hard to spot the Nurturers’ section at the front; coming from it were the wails and howls of the newchildren who sat squirming on the Nurturers’ laps. At every other public ceremony, the audience was silent and attentive. But once a year, they all smiled indulgently at the commotion from the little ones waiting to receive their names and families.
Jonas finally caught his father’s eye and waved. Father grinned and waved back, then held up the hand of the newchild on his lap, making it wave, too.
It wasn’t Gabriel. Gabe was back at the Nurturing Center today, being cared for by the night crew. He had been given an unusual and special reprieve from the committee, and granted an additional year of nurturing before his Naming and Placement. Father had gone before the committee with a plea on behalf of Gabriel, who had not yet gained the weight appropriate to his days of life nor begun to sleep soundly enough at night to be placed with his family unit. Normally such a newchild would be labeled Inadequate and released from the community.
Instead, as a result of Father’s plea, Gabriel had been labeled Uncertain and given the additional year. He would continue to be nurtured at the Center and would spend his nights with Jonas’s family unit. Each family member, including Lily, had been required to sign a pledge that they would not become attached to this little temporary guest, and that they would relinquish him without protest or appeal when he was assigned to his own family unit at next year’s Ceremony.
At least, Jonas thought, after Gabriel was placed next year, they would still see him often because he would be part of the community. If he were released, they would not see him again. Ever. Those who were released—even as newchildren—were sent Elsewhere and never returned to the community.
Father had not had to release a single newchild this year, so Gabriel would have represented a real failure and sadness. Even Jonas, though he didn’t hover over the little one the way Lily and his father did, was glad that Gabe had not been released.
The first Ceremony began right on time, and Jonas watched as one after another each newchild was given a name and handed by the Nurturers to its new family unit. For some, it was a first child. But many came to the stage accompanied by another child beaming with pride to receive a little brother or sister, the way Jonas had when he was about to be a Five.
Asher poked Jonas’s arm. “Remember when we got Phillipa?” he asked in a loud whisper. Jonas nodded. It had only been last year. Asher’s parents had waited quite a long time before applying for a second child. Maybe, Jonas suspected, they had been so exhausted by Asher’s lively foolishness that they had needed a little time.
Two of their group, Fiona and another female named Thea, were missing temporarily, waiting with their parents to receive newchildren. But it was rare that there was such an age gap between children in a family unit.
When her family’s ceremony was completed, Fiona took the seat that had been saved for her in the row ahead of Asher and Jonas. She turned and whispered to them, “He’s cute. But I don’t like his name very much.” She made a face and giggled. Fiona’s new brother had been named Bruno. It wasn’t a great name, Jonas thought, like—well, like Gabriel, for example. But it was okay.
The audience applause, which was enthusiastic at each Naming, rose in an exuberant swell when one parental pair, glowing with pride, took a male newchild and heard him named Caleb.
This new Caleb was a replacement child. The couple had lost their first Caleb, a cheerful little Four. Loss of a child was very, very rare. The community was extraordinarily safe, each citizen watchful and protective of all children. But somehow the first little Caleb had wandered away unnoticed, and had fallen into the river. The entire community had performed the Ceremony of Loss together, murmuring the name Caleb throughout an entire day, less and less frequently, softer in volume, as the long and somber day went on, so that the little Four seemed to fade away gradually from everyone’s consciousness.
Now, at this special Naming, the community performed the brief Murmur-of-Replacement Ceremony, repeating the name for the first time since the loss: softly and slowly at first, then faster and with greater volume, as the couple stood on the stage with the newchild sleeping in the mother’s arms. It was as if the first Caleb were returning.
Another newchild was given the name Roberto, and Jonas remembered that Roberto the Old had been released only last week. But there was no Murmur-of-Replacement Ceremony for the new little Roberto. Release was not the same as Loss.
He sat politely through the ceremonies of Two and Three and Four, increasingly bored as he was each year. Then a break for midday meal—served outdoors—and back again to the seats, for the Fives, Sixes, Sevens, and finally, last of the first day’s ceremonies, the Eights.
Jonas watched and cheered as Lily marched proudly to the stage, became an Eight and received the identifying jacket that she would wear this year, this one with smaller buttons and, for the first time, pockets, indicating that she was mature enough now to keep track of her own small belongings. She stood solemnly listening to the speech of firm instructions on the responsibilities of Eight and doing volunteer hours for the first time. But Jonas could see that Lily, though she seemed attentive, was looking longingly at the row of gleaming bicycles, which would be presented tomorrow morning to the Nines.
Next year, Lily-billy, Jonas thought.
It was an exhausting day, and even Gabriel, retrieved in his basket from the Nurturing Center, slept soundly that night.
Finally it was the morning of the Ceremony of Twelve.


Now Father sat beside Mother in the audience. Jonas could see them applauding dutifully as the Nines, one by one, wheeled their new bicycles, each with its gleaming nametag attached to the back, from the stage. He knew that his parents cringed a little, as he did, when Fritz, who lived in the dwelling next door to theirs, received his bike and almost immediately bumped into the podium with it. Fritz was a very awkward child who had been summoned for chastisement again and again. His transgressions were small ones, always: shoes on the wrong feet, schoolwork misplaced, failure to study adequately for a quiz. But each such error reflected negatively on his parents’ guidance and infringed on the community’s sense of order and success. Jonas and his family had not been looking forward to Fritz’s bicycle, which they realized would probably too often be dropped on the front walk instead of wheeled neatly into its port.
Finally the Nines were all resettled in their seats, each having wheeled a bicycle outside where it would be waiting for its owner at the end of the day. Everyone always chuckled and made small jokes when the Nines rode home for the first time. “Want me to show you how to ride?” older friends would call. “I know you’ve never been on a bike before!” But invariably the grinning Nines, who in technical violation of the rule had been practicing secretly for weeks, would mount and ride off in perfect balance, training wheels never touching the ground.
Then the Tens. Jonas never found the Ceremony of Ten particularly interesting—only time-consuming, as each child’s hair was snipped neatly into its distinguishing cut: females lost their braids at Ten, and males, too, relinquished their long childish hair and took on the more manly short style which exposed their ears.
Laborers moved quickly to the stage with brooms and swept away the mounds of discarded hair. Jonas could see the parents of the new Tens stir and murmur, and he knew that this evening, in many dwellings, they would be snipping and straightening the hastily done haircuts, trimming them into a neater line.
Elevens. It seemed a short time ago that Jonas had undergone the Ceremony of Eleven, but he remembered that it was not one of the more interesting ones. By Eleven, one was only waiting to be Twelve. It was simply a marking of time with no meaningful changes. There was new clothing: different undergarments for the females, whose bodies were beginning to change; and longer trousers for the males, with a specially shaped pocket for the small calculator that they would use this year in school; but those were simply presented in wrapped packages without an accompanying speech.
Break for midday meal. Jonas realized he was hungry. He and his groupmates congregated by the tables in front of the Auditorium and took their packaged food. Yesterday there had been merriment at lunch, a lot of teasing and energy. But today the group stood anxiously, separate from the other children. Jonas watched the new Nines gravitate toward their waiting bicycles, each one admiring his or her nametag. He saw the Tens stroking their new shortened hair, the females shaking their heads to feel the unaccustomed lightness without the heavy braids they had worn so long.
“I heard about a guy who was absolutely certain he was going to be assigned Engineer,” Asher muttered as they ate, “and instead they gave him Sanitation Laborer. He went out the next day, jumped into the river, swam across, and joined the next community he came to. Nobody ever saw him again.”
Jonas laughed. “Somebody made that story up, Ash,” he said. “My father said he heard that story when he was a Twelve.”
But Asher wasn’t reassured. He was eyeing the river where it was visible behind the Auditorium. “I can’t even swim very well,” he said. “My swimming instructor said that I don’t have the right boyishness or something.”
“Buoyancy,” Jonas corrected him.
“Whatever. I don’t have it. I sink.”
“Anyway,” Jonas pointed out, “have you ever once known of anyone—I mean really known for sure, Asher, not just heard a story about it—who joined another community?”
“No,” Asher admitted reluctantly. “But you can. It says so in the rules. If you don’t fit in, you can apply for Elsewhere and be released. My mother says that once, about ten years ago, someone applied and was gone the next day.” Then he chuckled. “She told me that because I was driving her crazy. She threatened to apply for Elsewhere.”
“She was joking.”
“I know. But it was true, what she said, that someone did that once. She said that it was really true. Here today and gone tomorrow. Never seen again. Not even a Ceremony of Release.”
Jonas shrugged. It didn’t worry him. How could someone not fit in? The community was so meticulously ordered, the choices so carefully made.
Even the Matching of Spouses was given such weighty consideration that sometimes an adult who applied to receive a spouse waited months or even years before a Match was approved and announced. All of the factors—disposition, energy level, intelligence, and interests—had to correspond and to interact perfectly. Jonas’s mother, for example, had higher intelligence than his father; but his father had a calmer disposition. They balanced each other. Their Match, which like all Matches had been monitored by the Committee of Elders for three years before they could apply for children, had always been a successful one.
Like the Matching of Spouses and the Naming and Placement of newchildren, the Assignments were scrupulously thought through by the Committee of Elders.
He was certain that his Assignment, whatever it was to be, and Asher’s too, would be the right one for them. He only wished that the midday break would conclude, that the audience would reenter the Auditorium, and the suspense would end.
As if in answer to his unspoken wish, the signal came and the crowd began to move toward the doors.

Seven

Now Jonas’s group had taken a new place in the Auditorium, trading with the new Elevens, so that they sat in the very front, immediately before the stage.
They were arranged by their original numbers, the numbers they had been given at birth. The numbers were rarely used after the Naming. But each child knew his number, of course. Sometimes parents used them in irritation at a child’s misbehavior, indicating that mischief made one unworthy of a name. Jonas always chuckled when he heard a parent, exasperated, call sharply to a whining toddler, “That’s enough, Twenty-three!”
Jonas was Nineteen. He had been the nineteenth newchild born his year. It had meant that at his Naming, he had been already standing and bright-eyed, soon to walk and talk. It had given him a slight advantage the first year or two, a little more maturity than many of his groupmates who had been born in the later months of that year. But it evened out, as it always did, by Three.
After Three, the children progressed at much the same level, though by their first number one could always tell who was a few months older than others in his group. Technically, Jonas’s full number was Eleven-nineteen, since there were other Nineteens, of course, in each age group. And today, now that the new Elevens had been advanced this morning, there were two Eleven-nineteens. At the midday break he had exchanged smiles with the new one, a shy female named Harriet.
But the duplication was only for these few hours. Very soon he would not be an Eleven but a Twelve, and age would no longer matter. He would be an adult, like his parents, though a new one and untrained still.
Asher was Four, and sat now in the row ahead of Jonas. He would receive his Assignment fourth.
Fiona, Eighteen, was on his left; on his other side sat Twenty, a male named Pierre whom Jonas didn’t like much. Pierre was very serious, not much fun, and a worrier and tattletale, too. “Have you checked the rules, Jonas?” Pierre was always whispering solemnly. “I’m not sure that’s within the rules.” Usually it was some foolish thing that no one cared about—opening his tunic if it was a day with a breeze; taking a brief try on a friend’s bicycle, just to experience the different feel of it.
The initial speech at the Ceremony of Twelve was made by the Chief Elder, the leader of the community who was elected every ten years. The speech was much the same each year: recollection of the time of childhood and the period of preparation, the coming responsibilities of adult life, the profound importance of Assignment, the seriousness of training to come.
Then the Chief Elder moved ahead in her speech.
“This is the time,” she began, looking directly at them, “when we acknowledge differences. You Elevens have spent all your years till now learning to fit in, to standardize your behavior, to curb any impulse that might set you apart from the group.
“But today we honor your differences. They have determined your futures.”
She began to describe this year’s group and its variety of personalities, though she singled no one out by name. She mentioned that there was one who had singular skills at caretaking, another who loved newchildren, one with unusual scientific aptitude, and a fourth for whom physical labor was an obvious pleasure. Jonas shifted in his seat, trying to recognize each reference as one of his groupmates. The caretaking skills were no doubt those of Fiona, on his left; he remembered noticing the tenderness with which she had bathed the Old. Probably the one with scientific aptitude was Benjamin, the male who had devised new, important equipment for the Rehabilitation Center.
He heard nothing that he recognized as himself, Jonas.
Finally the Chief Elder paid tribute to the hard work of her committee, which had performed the observations so meticulously all year. The Committee of Elders stood and was acknowledged by applause. Jonas noticed Asher yawn slightly, covering his mouth politely with his hand.
Then, at last, the Chief Elder called number One to the stage, and the Assignments began.
Each announcement was lengthy, accompanied by a speech directed at the new Twelve. Jonas tried to pay attention as One, smiling happily, received her Assignment as Fish Hatchery Attendant along with words of praise for her childhood spent doing many volunteer hours there, and her obvious interest in the important process of providing nourishment for the community.
Number One—her name was Madeline—returned, finally, amidst applause, to her seat, wearing the new badge that designated her Fish Hatchery Attendant. Jonas was certainly glad that that Assignment was taken; he wouldn’t have wanted it. But he gave Madeline a smile of congratulation.
When Two, a female named Inger, received her Assignment as Birthmother, Jonas remembered that his mother had called it a job without honor. But he thought that the Committee had chosen well. Inger was a nice girl though somewhat lazy, and her body was strong. She would enjoy the three years of being pampered that would follow her brief training; she would give birth easily and well; and the task of Laborer that would follow would use her strength, keep her healthy, and impose self-discipline. Inger was smiling when she resumed her seat. Birthmother was an important job, if lacking in prestige.
Jonas noticed that Asher looked nervous. He kept turning his head and glancing back at Jonas until the group leader had to give him a silent chastisement, a motion to sit still and face forward.
Three, Isaac, was given an Assignment as Instructor of Sixes, which obviously pleased him and was well deserved. Now there were three Assignments gone, none of them ones that Jonas would have liked—not that he could have been a Birthmother, anyway, he realized with amusement. He tried to sort through the list in his mind, the possible Assignments that remained. But there were so many he gave it up; and anyway, now it was Asher’s turn. He paid strict attention as his friend went to the stage and stood self-consciously beside the Chief Elder.
“All of us in the community know and enjoy Asher,” the Chief Elder began. Asher grinned and scratched one leg with the other foot. The audience chuckled softly.
“When the committee began to consider Asher’s Assignment,” she went on, “there were some possibilities that were immediately discarded. Some that would clearly not have been right for Asher.
“For example,” she said, smiling, “we did not consider for an instant designating Asher an Instructor of Threes.”
The audience howled with laughter. Asher laughed, too, looking sheepish but pleased at the special attention. The Instructors of Threes were in charge of the acquisition of correct language.
“In fact,” the Chief Elder continued, chuckling a little herself, “we even gave a little thought to some retroactive chastisement for the one who had been Asher’s Instructor of Threes so long ago. At the meeting where Asher was discussed, we retold many of the stories that we all remembered from his days of language acquisition.
“Especially,” she said, chuckling, “the difference between snack and smack. Remember, Asher?”
Asher nodded ruefully, and the audience laughed aloud. Jonas did, too. He remembered, though he had been only a Three at the time himself.
The punishment used for small children was a regulated system of smacks with the discipline wand: a thin, flexible weapon that stung painfully when it was wielded. The Childcare specialists were trained very carefully in the discipline methods: a quick smack across the hands for a bit of minor misbehavior; three sharper smacks on the bare legs for a second offense.
Poor Asher, who always talked too fast and mixed up words, even as a toddler. As a Three, eager for his juice and crackers at snacktime, he one day said “smack” instead of “snack” as he stood waiting in line for the morning treat.
Jonas remembered it clearly. He could still see little Asher, wiggling with impatience in the line. He remembered the cheerful voice call out, “I want my smack!”
The other Threes, including Jonas, had laughed nervously. “Snack!” they corrected. “You meant snack, Asher!” But the mistake had been made. And precision of language was one of the most important tasks of small children. Asher had asked for a smack.
The discipline wand, in the hand of the Childcare worker, whistled as it came down across Asher’s hands. Asher whimpered, cringed, and corrected himself instantly. “Snack,” he whispered.
But the next morning he had done it again. And again the following week. He couldn’t seem to stop, though for each lapse the discipline wand came again, escalating to a series of painful lashes that left marks on Asher’s legs. Eventually, for a period of time, Asher stopped talking altogether, when he was a Three.
“For a while,” the Chief Elder said, relating the story, “we had a silent Asher! But he learned.”
She turned to him with a smile. “When he began to talk again, it was with greater precision. And now his lapses are very few. His corrections and apologies are very prompt. And his good humor is unfailing.” The audience murmured in agreement. Asher’s cheerful disposition was well-known throughout the community.
“Asher.” She lifted her voice to make the official announcement. “We have given you the Assignment of Assistant Director of Recreation.”
She clipped on his new badge as he stood beside her, beaming. Then he turned and left the stage as the audience cheered. When he had taken his seat again, the Chief Elder looked down at him and said the words that she had said now four times, and would say to each new Twelve. Somehow she gave it special meaning for each of them.
“Asher,” she said, “thank you for your childhood.”


The Assignments continued, and Jonas watched and listened, relieved now by the wonderful Assignment his best friend had been given. But he was more and more apprehensive as his own approached. Now the new Twelves in the row ahead had all received their badges. They were fingering them as they sat, and Jonas knew that each one was thinking about the training that lay ahead. For some—one studious male had been selected as Doctor, a female as Engineer, and another for Law and Justice—it would be years of hard work and study. Others, like Laborers and Birthmothers, would have a much shorter training period.
Eighteen, Fiona, on his left, was called. Jonas knew she must be nervous, but Fiona was a calm female. She had been sitting quietly, serenely, throughout the Ceremony.
Even the applause, though enthusiastic, seemed serene when Fiona was given the important Assignment of Caretaker of the Old. It was perfect for such a sensitive, gentle girl, and her smile was satisfied and pleased when she took her seat beside him again.
Jonas prepared himself to walk to the stage when the applause ended and the Chief Elder picked up the next folder and looked down to the group to call forward the next new Twelve. He was calm now that his turn had come. He took a deep breath and smoothed his hair with his hand.
“Twenty,” he heard her voice say clearly. “Pierre.”