Solstice by Jane Redd Page A

“They adjusted it based on dream-watching and thought they had it right, but . . .” He looked away. “Changing the control level doesn’t always have a positive outcome. In fact,” his eyes were back on me, “there’s only a sixteen percent success rate once someone hits overload.”
    “Level of control? Success rate of what?” I hissed, my mind trying to wrap around what Rueben was saying. I looked over at the copper-skinned girl, who had curled up on her bed and closed her eyes. It was like she’d completely checked out.
    “Success rate of living through overload and returning to normal brain function,” Rueben said.
    I bit my lip, staring into his brown eyes, now dark with anger. Or was it fear?
    “I don’t understand, Rueben.” I swiped furiously at tears that wouldn’t stop and my chest felt tight as though I couldn’t inhale enough oxygen. Something Rose had said popped into my mind. “I thought the implants were meant to protect us from a rebellion brought on by unreasonable emotion.”
    Rueben’s fingers brushed my cheek, absorbing the tears on my face. “Don’t fall asleep tonight, and I’ll tell you about it.”

Thirteen
    Rueben motioned for me to come over to where he sat in the dark. My hands felt damp as I climbed off my bed and settled on the one next to his. The remaining girl, whom Rueben told me was named Estee, remained curled up, and seemed to be asleep.
    He started whispering, and I leaned forward to catch his quiet words. I tried to ignore how he smelled like he’d just been outside, beneath the sun.
    “Most people are born with peaceful dispositions,” he said. “In fact, scientists believe all babies are born with the same personality. So it makes sense that if we’re educated the same way and grow up in the same social structure, our personalities will be quite generic.”
    I nodded. I could understand the scientists’ conclusions. There wasn’t much difference between the kids I knew. Sol seemed to have higher intelligence than most and Chalice liked to push against the rules, but they were the only ones who seemed different.
    “But when the scientific model fails, even after all precautions are taken, scientists want to know why,” Rueben continued. “Harmony implants don’t just suppress emotions. They track our emotion levels and send the results back to the science board. And they can be programmed to control our brains on a greater level, affecting how you react to certain events or ideas.”
    I stared at Rueben in the dim light as disbelief washed over me. Although I shouldn’t be surprised. If Phase Three could monitor my dreams, the Legislature could track us through the Harmony implants. But I wondered how Rueben knew so much. “How do you know?”
    Rueben hesitated, then said in a quiet voice, “I wasn’t born in the city. I’m from the relocation program. It’s common knowledge there.”
    I shifted away from him, my heart pounding. I’d never met anyone born outside of the city—we were told they were barbaric and diseased and were never allowed within the borders. I studied Rueben for a second. He looked intelligent. He looked healthy.
    “You’re from a . . . Lake Town?” I tried not to let my prejudice show.
    A slow smile crossed his face. “I know what you’re thinking. Why aren’t I shackled to the floor shouting nonsense words?”
    “Well? Why are you so normal?” I asked, ignoring his smile.
    “Your history lessons have been greatly manipulated.”
    Naomi would probably agree, but I still had a hard time believing it. Maybe he was an exception. “Where are you really from?”
    “I was born in the Lake Town of Prairie.”
    I watched his hands move as he talked. His nails were clean, and I didn’t see any signs of sores. “Where is Prairie?”
    “A few days by ship.” When my eyebrows crinkled, he said, “A ship is a very large boat.”
    “I know what a boat is.” They transported people and goods along the river. I’d