The Millstone

CHAPTER THREE: "THE CRUCIBLE"

"Strange. Strange. Very strange."

Christina Clarke drummed her fingers nervously against the cold plastic table. From what Bennett could tell, she was something of an overthinker. Given the manner his mind had been working lately, he wasn't one to start throwing stones – but, despite his best attempts to take things at face value, he couldn't help wondering just what went on in Christina Clarke's mind. She was just too intriguing.

"What's next on your schedule, anyway?" Bennett asked.

She let out a groan. "Mopping duty."

"And after that?"

"A lesson with Dr. Stringer. Me and the others in the group: Bryon and Buck, or whoever. They're awfully bland. Oh, God. Buck is a real pain."

"What did you just say?" Bennett cried out, inquisitive but not accusatory. Something she'd said rang a bell deep within his mind.

She tilted her head. "Buck is a real pain."

"No. Before that."

Clarke took a few seconds just to think back, organizing the documents on the table into piles based on the date of their composition, like they'd been instructed. It was clear from the minute they began their task that it was literally pointless. Their help wasn't needed in the ward – at all. The State was merely schooling them in the depth and rigor of its beurocracy.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bennett," she said.

"About God."

"You mean 'Oh, God'?"

"Yeah. About him."

Clarke shrugged. "It's just a figure of speech. Everyone knows he's not real."

"People used to really believe in God, you know," Bennett said, flicking another paper over the desk. He grabbed the next in the pile and scanned the first few lines for a composition date. Nothing. Sometimes he had to read in-depth; find clues from within the document itself. Uninspiring drivel about the scientific and technological advances of the State. Because, apparently, kidnapping him and wiping his memory wasn't enough to convince him of their power. He needed to be constantly reminded.

"Believe in God? You may as well believe in fairies."

"People used to believe in those, too," he said.

"Listen." Clarke made what Bennett interpreted as the vocal equivalent of an eye roll. "We're a boring old species, put on this boring old planet to live our boring old short lives. We like to pretend we're part of something greater, just to motivate ourselves to keep going. Ever seen pictures of old temples? Churches?"

He nodded.

"If we hadn't built those, we'd have run out of things to build. Just shacks as far as the eye can see. In every country. We might not even have left Africa."

Bennett squeezed his eyes shut, taking a short break from his pointless work just to think. What an interesting response.

Clarke carried on her train of thought. "Those beliefs were propagated by the old states, of course. Threaten people with eternal damnation and they'll jump straight in line. Tell them your rule book was written by the ruler of the universe and they're more than happy to do what you say. It's human nature, Bennett. We just can't accept the fact we don't matter."

"You are a very cynical girl, Clarke."

She could not be stopped. "Dr. Stringer has all these ideas – and I'm sure Dr. Abraham does too – about humanity and about the planet Earth. He acts like the oceans swelling and the World State forming is the greatest thing that's ever happened to us. He says the State is responsible for humans learning to control the perception of time, the mystery of thought, the... well, everything."