Unplugged: The New World (#1, Unplugged Trilogy)

Chapter Seven

And that's it. My stomach feels oddly empty as Leah's grandmother floats towards us on graceful legs.

"Would you like a tour?" She asks kindly. "I've nothing to do this morning."

"Yes, please," Leah replies timidly. She must be struggling with the reality of her grandmother's powerful position. I imagine that being related to the leader of a rebellion is placing an awful amount of pressure on her. My mom takes my hand and leads me towards the crowded staircase. Leah and Ms. Ward trail behind.

"I think you're going to like it here," she whispers, excited. I nod absentmindedly. So far everyone seems nice enough, but I can't shake the feeling that I will gain some enemies as time goes on. Luke and Matthew seem to be evidence of that.

Upon reaching the second floor, we don't make a right like we did last night to go to our dormitory. Instead, we walk straight forward down a much broader hallway. This hallway doesn't lead off to more corridors like the others I've seen: it keeps straight, with doors occasionally placed to the left or right.

"We call this hall the Straight, because it's the only corridor that doesn't bend or turn," my mother adds, smiling sheepishly. "I know. Real original." I can see that we still have a ways to go before we reach the room at the far end of the tunnel.

"What on Earth is this place? Why are people even down here?" Leah blurts out. I sigh in relief. She had asked the exact question I've been too timid to ask since our arrival. Leah's grandmother and my mom glance at each other knowingly then turn back to the front. Leah's grandmother answers first.

"For years we've been underground, constantly expanding the reach of the Depot and trying to recruit as many people to the Resistance as possible. Hence the tunnel-diggers: the expanders. Basically-"

"Ms. Ward?" I interrupt. She twists her face like she just swallowed something bitter.

"Please, call me Grace. I'm not that old, for goodness' sake!" The wrinkles on her face indicate otherwise, but I respect her request.

"Okay, then... Grace... What are we resisting in the first place? Is it Them?" Both Grace and my mother make a disgusted sound.

"She just asked a question!" Leah exclaims, trying and failing to tame her hair with her hands.

"The question itself is sound," my mother assures us. "We just find it pathetic how many tactics our government uses to strike fear into the people. Them?"

"And even more pathetic how transparent yet accepted they are," Grace adds, nodding towards us wisely. The new revelation strikes me like an arrow and I almost pause in the middle of a step. How did I not realize this before?

"Do you mean that- Do you mean that our government is Them?" I whisper unsteadily. My mom nods and looks back at me in a confused way.

"Who did you think 'They' were?" It's a simple question but I find myself without an answer. Who did I think They were? Certainly not the government: the faceless, helpful rulers of New York City.

"I thought they were our school teachers. That's why I ran away," Leah says. Her grandma nods at her as if saying, "Right." I find myself short of breath. Our teachers too?

"Mom, I don't understand," I say desperately. She looks over her shoulder and mouths the words "after the tour." I nod.

"Here we are!" Grace exclaims, stopping in front of a large arch. It's a struggle to keep my mouth closed. Though the room beyond is not nearly as tall as the Warehouse, it is at least five times as large. Rows and rows of trees and plants fill the space, all growing in long troughs of soil and water. In the middle of the room, a tree that touches the rocky ceiling towers over the rest of the vegetation; its roots hide beneath the soil we stand on. Hanging from the ceiling are extraordinarily bright lights that force me to squint my eyes.

"This is the Atrium," my mom declares in a passionate tone. Her face radiates contentment. I glance at Leah, expecting one of her comments, but she stands speechless. I suppose this is one of those times when you run out of things to say. My mom continues to tell us about the Atrium, wandering over to a nearby plant and gently stroking its leaves. "Here, we grow all species of fruits, vegetables, trees, and plants: to eat and to admire. All of our food is one hundred percent GMO--genetically modified organism- -free. It can also serve as a peaceful place to relax." Finally, Leah speaks up.

"What are those?" She points to the countless lights suspended above us. Her grandmother replies.

"Those are the special weather-imitation lights that we've created. Since we find ourselves underground, our plants obviously can't receive pure sunlight. But, utilizing solar powered machinery and the great minds of our scientists, we've managed to harness the sun's energy and transfer it to the plants in the Atrium." Grace smiles satisfactorily and I realize that--apart from age--she and Leah look very much alike, tan skin and all.

"You have scientists down here?"

"Yes. Everyone at the Depot is encouraged to find methods of improving life, but our scientists are the ones who actually create the technology that people dream up." Leah continues to ask her grandmother questions, and I watch as my mother pleasantly admires a tree with bright orange fruit hanging from its leaves. A small, manufactured breeze tosses a short lock of graying hair behind her ear. I wander over to her, entranced by the magnificent color.

"It's beautiful," I whisper. She nods and turns to me.

"Have you ever seen one before? A tree?" I shake my head, ashamed.

"I've only seen pictures." My mother sighs sadly. Somehow, I feel her sorrow.

"I guess there aren't any trees in the city... Well, I guess there aren't any trees anywhere."

Many questions soar through my mind, but I know I will have to wait to ask them. Instead, I follow Grace and Leah as they leave the Atrium.