“哦！瞧！”莉莉开心地尖叫着：“他好可爱喔！你们看，个儿这么小！他的眼睛跟你的一样有趣！乔纳思。”乔纳思瞪了她一眼。他最讨厌她老提他的眼睛。他等着爸爸责骂莉莉，可是，爸爸正忙着卸下自行车后座的婴儿篮。乔纳思忍不住也走过去瞧了一眼。
他望着小宝宝，小宝宝也在提篮上回望着他，乔纳思留意到他有一对灰色的眼珠子。
社区里的人几乎都是黑眼珠，他的爸爸妈妈是，莉莉是，他同年级所有的同学和朋友是。只有少数几个人例外，乔纳思就是其中之一，他还注意到有一位五岁的小女生和他一样眼珠颜色比较淡。平常没有人提这些事，规则上也没有限制，但是大家都有这样的默契：不谈论别人的特点或与众不同的地方。乔纳思决心让莉莉早一点学会这一点，否则她早晚会因为口无遮拦而受罚的。
爸爸把自行车放进停车位，提起婴儿篮，进入屋里。莉莉跟在后头，一边回过头来取笑乔纳思：“也许你们是同一个孕母生的！”
乔纳思耸耸肩，跟着进到屋内。不过，他真的被新生儿的眼睛吓了一跳。社区里虽然不禁用镜子，但因为大家觉得用处不大，所以镜子很少。就算去到有镜子的地方，乔纳思也从没想过要照一照，看看自己长什么样。现在看见小宝宝，他猛然想起，灰色的眼珠不但罕见，看起来还有种特别的神韵。是什么呢？……深邃，没错，就好像一眼望进清澈河底那个未知的地带。他突然惊觉，自己就是这种外观。
他走到书桌边，假装对小宝宝没兴趣。在房间的另一头，妈妈和莉莉正弯下腰，观察爸爸解开婴儿篮的带子。
“他的玩具叫什么？”莉莉拿起婴儿篮边的填充玩具，好奇地问。
爸爸看了一眼，回答：“河马。”
莉莉听到“河马”这个奇怪的字眼，吃吃笑着念了一遍，这才放下玩具。她瞄了一眼卸下包巾的小宝宝，发现他正挥舞着小手臂。
“小宝宝好可爱喔，”莉莉叹了一口气，“希望以后我也可以当‘孕母’。”
“莉莉！”妈妈大声喝止，“别这么说，那种指派工作并不光彩！”
“但是我跟娜塔莎聊过，你们也认识她的，她就住在街角，今年十岁。她在生产中心当过几个小时的义工，她跟我说，孕母的伙食很棒，还做适当的运动，每天悠悠哉哉地吃喝玩乐，等着小宝宝出生。我很喜欢这样的生活啊。”莉莉急忙反驳。
“三年，”妈妈用很坚定的语气说，“生产三次，好日子到此结束。接下来她的人生是劳工，直到进人养老院为止。
这就是你想要的吗？莉莉！先过三年懒散的日子，然后一辈子做苦工？”
“好啦，不是啦，我不要这样啦。”莉莉很不情愿地承认。
爸爸让小宝宝翻身趴在婴儿篮里，然后坐在旁边，很有节奏地轻抚着他的背，亲切地说：“莉莉小宝贝，孕母是不能探望小宝宝的。如果你非常喜欢小婴儿，你可以期待跟我一样，当一名养育师。”
“当你八岁开始当义工时，可以到育婴中心试试看。”妈妈建议。
“好，我会试试看。”莉莉说，一边在婴儿篮旁边跪下来，“你们说他叫什么名字？加波？哈啰，加波。”她用唱歌似的语调说话，然后吃吃地笑了起来。“糟了，”她马上轻声细语地说，“他想睡觉了，我最好安静一点。”
乔纳思回到书桌继续做作业。他心里暗自好笑，安静？
怎么可能，莉莉根本就安静不下来。也许她应该当一名播音员，这样就可以整天坐在录音室里，对着麦克风说个不停。
他轻轻笑了一下，脑海中浮现妹妹用播音员特有的那种训练有素、自以为是的声音，不断地说着：请注意！九岁以下的女生请注意！头发上的蝴蝶结必须随时系好！
他转向莉莉，没错！她的蝴蝶结跟平常一样又松开了,头发凌乱不堪。他确定待会儿就会有针对莉莉的广播。虽然广播员不会指名道姓，可是大家一听就知道指的是谁。
他回想起一次针对他的让他丢脸的广播：请注意！提醒一位十一岁的男孩，娱乐中心的物品不可以擅自带走。点心是用来吃的，不是用来收藏的。这件事发生在上个月，他胡里胡涂地把一个苹果带回家。事后没人再提起这件事，就连爸妈都没提，因为公开广播就够让他难堪的了。当然，第二天上学前他赶紧去归还苹果，还跟娱乐中心的主任道歉。
再次回想这件事，乔纳思心里还是很困惑——不过不是来自广播或道歉，那些都是正常程序，也是他自找的，没什么好意外的，让他困惑的是事件本身。也许当天晚上在家庭分享时间，他就应该把感觉说出来，但是因为找不到确切的用语，所以放弃了。
事件发生在那天的游戏时间，他正在跟亚瑟玩，随手从点心篮里抓起一个苹果，扔给亚瑟，亚瑟又把它扔回来，就这样玩起接物游戏。
一开始并没有什么异常，因为这种游戏他们已经玩过无数回了，一扔一接，一扔一接，对乔纳思来说毫不费劲儿，甚至有些无聊。但是亚瑟喜欢玩，也必须玩，因为这样的活动可以促进手眼协调，在这方面，他还未达标准，有待加强。
但是，当苹果抛到空中的瞬间，他突然发现苹果的某一部分……老实说，到现在他也还搞不太清楚究竟是怎么回事……竟然变了。不过，一落到他的手中，它还是原来的苹果，大小相同，形状相同，依旧是完美的圆形，就跟他的外衣一样。
那个苹果毫不起眼，他用两只手来来回回地扔了几遍，再把它扔给亚瑟。结果在半空中——在转瞬间——它又起了变化。
这种现象总共出现四次。乔纳思眨眨眼，望望四周，决定测试一下自己的视力。他眯着眼睛看外衣辨识标志上的小字，可以很清楚地看见自己的名字，也可以清楚地看见亚瑟在另一头准备接东西，同时他也轻易地接到了苹果。
乔纳思完全胡涂了。
“亚瑟？”他大声地喊，“你有没有注意到这个苹果不太对劲儿？”
“有啊，”亚瑟笑嘻嘻地喊回来，“它从我的手里跳到地上！”亚瑟刚才又漏接了一次。
乔纳思笑了笑，刻意掩饰心里的不安。不过，他违反了规定，把苹果带回家。那天傍晚，在爸爸、妈妈和莉莉回家以前，他把苹果握在手里，反复仔细地观察。由于亚瑟有几次失手，把苹果掉在地上摔伤了，但看起来跟其他苹果并没两样。
他找来一柄放大镜观察，又在房间里把它丢过来、丢过去，在书桌上滚过来、滚过去，等着变化再度出现。
但是什么也没发生，他等到的是不久后播音员的广播。〖贼吧Ｚei8。Ｃom电子书下载：Zei8.com 贼吧电子书〗
虽然播音员没有指出他的名字，但爸爸妈妈看到他书桌上的苹果，心里有数。
现在，他坐在书桌旁盯着作业，他的家人则围绕在婴儿篮旁边。他摇摇头，想要忘掉那件不愉快的往事。他强迫自己专心写报告，在晚餐前念点功课。篮子里的小宝宝加波开始不安地扭动，咿咿呜呜地说话。爸爸打开放着处方和设备的容器，轻声地对莉莉解说该怎么喂宝宝吃东西。
夜晚像往常一样降临，每个家庭、每座住宅、整个社区，按照正常的节奏运作，为明天做准备。但他们家跟以往不同，那就是多了一个眼珠灰色、清澈、仿佛明了一切的小宝宝。
Chapter 4
Jonas rode at a leisurely pace, glancing at the bike ports 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 group mates 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 new-child. 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 new children 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.
