观众席里流荡着一股不安的气氛，人们对最后一项指派工作报以掌声，但是掌声稀稀落落的，不像先前那样热烈、整齐……大家困惑地窃窃私语。
乔纳思机械地、无意识地拍着手，原本期待、兴奋、骄傲和为朋友感到无比快乐的情绪，早已消失无踪；现在他只感到羞辱和恐惧。
首席长老等到不安的掌声停歇后，才又开口说话。
“我知道，”她用充满活力又十分优雅的声音说，“大家都很担心，以为我可能弄错了。”
她笑了。大家听见她这句亲切的声明，马上从不安的情绪中解脱出来，呼吸顿时舒畅了许多，现场一片安静。
乔纳思抬起头。
“让大家忧虑不安，”她说，“我郑重向整个社区道歉。”
她的声音在观众席中回荡。
“我们接受你的道歉。”大家异口同声地回答。
“乔纳思，”她低头看着他，“我要特别向你致歉，很抱歉让你坐立不安。”
“我接受你的道歉。”乔纳思的声音微微颤抖。
“现在请你到台上来。”
今天稍早，他在家里换衣服的时候，还练习了一下该怎样满怀自信地上台，现在那些全抛到九霄云外去了。他光是站起来，往前走，爬楼梯，走过平台站到首席长老身旁去,都觉得举步维艰。
她把手放在他紧张的肩膀上，要他放松。
“乔纳思没有分派到工作。”她对所有的人说。乔纳思心里一沉。
她继续说下去：“乔纳思被选上了。”
他眨了一下眼睛，那是什么意思？他可以感觉到观众的内心也同时升起了这个疑问。
她用坚定、命令式的语气说：“乔纳思被选上担任我们下一位记忆传承人。”
接着他听到大家一一每位在座的居民——因为震惊而猛吸一口气，每个人的脸上都充满敬畏的神情。
不过，他还是不懂。
“这样的遴选是非常非常罕见的。”首席长老告诉大家，“我们社区里只有一位记忆传承人，由他负责训练接班人。”
“现任的记忆传承人担任这个职务已经很久了。”她继续说，乔纳思随着她的目光看过去，长老委员会的成员都坐在一起，首席长老的目光落在正中央一位长老身上，奇怪的是，那位长老却又仿佛不属于这个组织。乔纳思以前从未看过这位长老，他蓄着胡子，眼珠子也是淡色的，他热切地注视着乔纳思。
“上次的遴选失败了。”首席长老神色黯淡地说，“那是十年前的事了，那时乔纳思还在学走路。那次的经历带给大家莫大的痛苦，我不想再多加叙述。”
乔纳思不知道她指的是什么，但是感受得到低沉的气氛——大家在不安地挪动着身子。
“这一次我们不再匆促行事，”她继续说，“我们经不起再一次的失败。”
“有时候，”她用比较轻快的语调化解礼堂里沉重的气氛，“即使我们已经竭尽所能、密切观察，还是无法充分掌握某些指派工作。有时我们会担心，即使经过训练，有人还是无法达到预定的标准。毕竟，十一岁还只是个孩子。比如我们以为某人具有赤子之心和耐性，很适合担任养育师，没想到训练之后，才发现他只是愚蠢和懒散。所以在训练过程中我们会继续观察，做必要的修正。
但是记忆传承人受训时不受监督或修正，这在规则里头写得很清楚。他必须在隔离的状态下，由现任的记忆传承人全权主导，这是一项神圣荣耀的使命。”
隔离？乔纳思越听越不安。
“所以遴选必须非常谨慎，得全体委员毫无疑虑才行。
如果在遴选过程中有长老做了不确定的梦，就足以把候选人从名单中除去。”
“很多年前，乔纳思就已被指认是记忆传承人的可能人选。我们密切观察他，也没有长老做过不确定的梦。”
“他充分展现了担任记忆传承人必备的特质。”
她把手搭在乔纳思的肩膀上，开始说明是哪些特质。
“聪明。”她说，“我们都知道，乔纳思从入学以来，一直是班上顶尖的学生。”
“正直。”她接着说，“乔纳思跟我们一样，都犯过一些小错，”她对他微微一笑，“我们希望他能勇于认错，迅速改过，他的确做到了。”
“勇气。”她又说，“我们当中只有一个人接受过记忆传承人的严苛训练，他就是我们委员会中最重要的成员——现任的记忆传承人。他一次又一次地提醒我们，一定要具备勇气。”
“乔纳思，”她转身面向他，不过所有的人都可以听到她的声音，“在训练过程中，你必须承受身体上的痛苦。”
恐惧轰然袭上乔纳思心头。
“那是你不曾经历过的痛苦。没错，你曾从自行车上摔下来，擦伤膝盖；没错，去年你的手指头也被门给压伤过。”
乔纳思同意地点点头，他回想起那些意外事件和伴随而来的痛苦。
“但是，很快你又得面对这样的经历，”她温和地解释，“在训练过程中，你会历经巨大的痛楚，那些痛楚超出我们的想象，因为我们没有这样的经历。记忆传承人自己也无法形容，只是一再提醒我们要让你知道：你需要很大的勇气去面对，很遗憾我们无法事先为你做些防范的准备。”
“不过，我们确信你有这样的勇气。”她对他说。
他一点也不勇敢，至少现在就不是。
“第四个主要的特点，”首席长老说，“就是智能。乔纳思尚未学会，但通过训练，他将逐渐获得这项能力。
我们确信他具有获得智能的潜能，这也是我们正在积极发掘的。
最后，记忆传承人还必须具备另一项特点，关于这一点，我只知名称，但没办法加以描述。因为我不了解，社区中的成员也没人了解。也许乔纳思知道，因为现任的记忆传承人告诉我们，乔纳思已经具备这项他称为‘超眼界’的能力。”
首席长老用质疑的眼光看着乔纳思，观众的焦点也都集中在他身上。现场寂静无声。
在那一瞬间，他怔住了，内心无比沮丧。他也不知道啊，那到底是什么能力呢？他根本不清楚。现在他必须承认：“没有，我没有这项能力。”祈求大家的宽恕和原谅，还要解释清楚选上他是一大错误，他根本不是那块料。
但是当他往人群望过去，看着一张张的脸孔，幻象又产生了，就跟上次的苹果事件一模一样。
人群变了。
他眨眨眼，一切又恢复原样。他挺了挺肩膀，在那一刹那间，他第一次肯定自己具有这样的能力。
她还看着他，所有人的目光也集中在他身上。
“我想是吧！”他告诉首席长老和大家，“我自己也不了解，也不知道为什么会这样。但是，有时候我的确会看见一些不可思议的东西，也许这就是超眼界。”
她的手臂从他肩膀上放下来。
“乔纳思，”她不仅是对他，也是对他所属的整个社区说，“你将接受训练，成为我们下一任的记忆传承人。谢谢你奉献了你的童年。”
说着她转身离开讲台，留下他一个人站在台上，面对观众。大家开始自发地低吟他的名字。
“乔纳思，”一开始只像个耳语，短促可闻，“乔纳思，乔纳思……”
渐渐地声音越来越大，越来越快：“乔纳思、乔纳思、乔纳思……”
随着逐渐增强的唱颂声，乔纳思明白，大家就跟接纳新生儿凯尔博一样，已接纳了他和他的新角色。他的内心充满感激和骄傲。
但是，在这同时，他也感到无比惶恐。他不了解自己为什么会被选上？他对自己的未来毫无概念。
未来他会怎样呢？
Chapter 9
Now, for the first time in his twelve years of life, Jonas felt separate, different. He remembered what the Chief Elder had said: that his training would be alone and apart.
But his training had not yet begun and already, upon leaving the Auditorium, he felt the apartness. Holding the folder she had given him, he made his way through the throng, looking for his family unit and for Asher. People moved aside for him. They watched him. He thought he could hear whispers.
"Ash!" he called, spotting his friend near the rows of bicycles. "Ride back with me?"
"Sure." Asher smiled, his usual smile, friendly and familiar. But Jonas felt a moment of hesitation from his friend, an uncertainty.
"Congratulations," Asher said.
"You too," Jonas replied. "It was really funny, when she told about the smacks. You got more applause than almost anybody else."
The other new Twelves clustered nearby, placing their folders carefully into the carrying containers on the backs of the bikes. In each dwelling tonight they would be studying the instructions for the beginning of their training. Each night for years the children had memorized the required lessons for school, often yawning with boredom. Tonight they would all begin eagerly to memorize the rules for their adult Assignments.
"Congratulations, Asher!" someone called. Then that hesitation again. "You too, Jonas!"
Asher and Jonas responded with congratulations to their group mates. Jonas saw his parents watching him from the place where their own bicycles were waiting. Lily had already been strapped into her seat.
He waved. They waved back, smiling, but he noticed that Lily was watching him solemnly, her thumb in her mouth.
He rode directly to his dwelling, exchanging only small jokes and unimportant remarks with Asher.
"See you in the morning, Recreation Director!" he called, dismounting by his door as Asher continued on.
"Right! See you!" Asher called back. Once again, there was just a moment when things weren't quite the same, weren't quite as they had always been through the long friendship. Perhaps he had imagined it. Things couldn't change, with Asher.
The evening meal was quieter than usual. Lily chattered about her plans for volunteer work; she would begin, she said, at the Nurturing Center, since she was already an expert at feeding Gabriel.
"I know," she added quickly, when her father gave her a warning glance, "I won't mention his name. I know I'm not supposed to know his name.
"I can't wait for tomorrow to come," she said happily. Jonas sighed uneasily. "I can," he muttered.
"You've been greatly honored," his mother said. "Your father and I are very proud."
"It's the most important job in the community," Father said.
"But just the other night, you said that the job of making Assignments was the most important!"
Mother nodded. "This is different. It's not a job, really. I never thought, never expected — " She paused. "There's only one Receiver."
"But the Chief Elder said that they had made a selection before, and that it failed. What was she talking about?"
Both of his parents hesitated. Finally his father described the previous selection. "It was very much as it was today, Jonas — the same suspense, as one Eleven had been passed over when the Assignments were given. Then the announcement, when they singled out the one — "
Jonas interrupted. "What was his name?"
His mother replied, "Her, not his. It was a female. But we are never to speak the name, or to use it again for a newchild.”
Jonas was shocked. A name designated Not-to-Be-Spoken indicated the highest degree of disgrace.
"What happened to her?" he asked nervously.
But his parents looked blank. "We don't know," his father said uncomfortably. "We never saw her again."
A silence fell over the room. They looked at each other. Finally his mother, rising from the table, said, "You've been greatly honored, Jonas. Greatly honored."
Alone in his sleeping room prepared for bed, Jonas opened his folder at last. Some of the other Twelves, he had noticed, had been given folders thick with printed pages. He imagined Benjamin, the scientific male in his group, beginning to read pages of rules and instructions with relish. He pictured Fiona smiling her gentle smile as she bent over the lists of duties and methods that she would be required to learn in the days to come.
But his own folder was startlingly close to empty. Inside there was only a single printed sheet. He read it twice.
JONAS
RECEIVER OF MEMORY
1. Go immediately at the end of school hours each day to the Annex entrance behind the end of the House of the Old and present yourself to the attendant.
2. Go immediately to your dwelling at the conclusion of Training Hours each day.
3. From this moment you are exempted from rules governing rudeness. You may ask any question of any citizen and you will receive answers.
4. Do not discuss your training with any other member of the community, including parents and Elders.
5. From this moment you are prohibited from dream-telling.
6. Except for illness or injury unrelated to your training, do not apply for any any medication.
7. You are not permitted to apply for release.
8. You may lie.
Jonas was stunned. What would happen to his friendships? His mindless hours playing ball, or riding his bike along the river? Those had been happy and vital times for him. Were they to be completely taken from him, now? The simple logistic instructions — where to go, and when — were expected. Every Twelve had to be told, of course, where and how and when to report for training. But he was a little dismayed that his schedule left no time, apparently, for recreation.
The exemption from rudeness startled him. Reading it again, however, he realized that it didn't compel him to be rude; it simply allowed him the option. He was quite certain he would never take advantage of it. He was so completely, so thoroughly accustomed to courtesy within the community that the thought of asking another citizen an intimate question, of calling someone's attention to an area of awkwardness, was unnerving.
The prohibition of dream-telling, he thought, would not be a real problem. He dreamed so rarely that the dream-telling did not come easily to him anyway, and he was glad to be excused from it. He wondered briefly, though, how to deal with it at the morning meal. What if he did dream — should he simply tell his family unit, as he did so often, anyway, that he hadn't? That would be a lie. Still, the final rule said...well, he wasn't quite ready to think about the final rule on the page.
The restriction of medication unnerved him. Medication was always available to citizens, even to children, through their parents. When he had crushed his finger in the door, he had quickly, gasping into the speaker, notified his mother; she had hastily requisitioned relief-of-pain medication which had promptly been delivered to his dwelling. Almost instantly the excruciating pain in his hand had diminished to the throb which was, now, all he could recall of the experience.
Re-reading rule number 6, he realized that a crushed finger fell into the category of "unrelated to training." So if it ever happened again — and he was quite certain it wouldn't; he had been very careful near heavy doors since the accident! — he could still receive medication.
The pill he took now, each morning, was also unrelated to training. So he would continue to receive the pill.
But he remembered uneasily what the Chief Elder had said about the pain that would come with his training. She had called it indescribable.
Jonas swallowed hard, trying without success to imagine what such pain might be like, with no medication at all. But it was beyond his comprehension.
He felt no reaction to rule number 7 at all. It had never occurred to him that under any circumstances, ever, he might apply for release.
Finally he steeled himself to read the final rule again. He had been trained since earliest childhood, since his earliest learning of language, never to lie. It was an integral part of the learning of precise speech. Once, when he had been a Four, he had said, just prior to the midday meal at school, "I'm starving."
Immediately he had been taken aside for a brief private lesson in language precision. He was not starving, it was pointed out. He was hungry. No one in the community was starving, had ever been starving, would ever be starving. To say "starving" was to speak a lie. An unintentional lie, of course. But the reason for precision of language was to ensure that unintentional lies were never uttered. Did he understand that? they asked him. And he had.
He had never, within his memory, been tempted to lie. Asher did not lie. Lily did not lie. His parents did not lie. No one did. Unless...Now Jonas had a thought that he had never had before. This new thought was frightening. What if others — adults — had, upon becoming Twelves, received in their instructions the same terrifying sentence?
What if they had all been instructed: You may lie?
His mind reeled. Now, empowered to ask questions of utmost rudeness — and promised answers — he could, conceivably (though it was almost unimaginable), ask someone, some adult, his father perhaps: "Do you lie?"
But he would have no way of knowing if the answer he received were true.
