“Here?”
“For the interview.”
Vanja stamped the rest of the forms, all the while glancing furtively at the corridor.
About an hour later, Ivar came downstairs. He looked haggard. He greeted Vanja with a small wave. “Just fine,” he replied when Vanja asked how he was feeling.
His voice was faint, as if he didn’t really have the strength to speak. “It was an in-depth interview.”
“Are you hungry? I’ve got my midday break soon.”
Ivar shook his head. “No. I’m a bit tired.”
Vanja lowered her voice. “What did you talk about?”
Ivar looked at the floor. “They took me to a room. They asked me what happened. I told them about how I fell into a small cavity underneath the mushroom farm, fainted, and was pulled out by the rescue workers. My housemates can confirm that I was a little confused last night. That I said some things I didn’t mean.” He looked back up at Vanja. “Right?”
Chills ran down Vanja’s back. At the edge of her vision she could see that Anders had stopped leafing through the papers on his desk. “Of course,” she said. “That’s what Nina and I said to each other, that you must have had a little concussion or something.”
Ivar nodded. “I’m going to the clinic now,” he said. “I’m having another checkup.”
He left. Vanja went back to sorting forms. She did it quickly, to keep her fingers from trembling. As soon as her midday break came, she walked over to the library.
Evgen was alone at his desk. He locked the door and got out his packed lunch while Vanja told him everything: how Ivar had disappeared, wandered through the tunnels, gone in for an “interview,” and come back with a different story. Evgen ate with his eyes fixed on Vanja, his fork moving mechanically between his lunch box and his mouth.
When Vanja finally fell silent, he put the fork down and swallowed. “They’ve probably filled the hole in already.”
“But do you agree with Ivar, that the tunnels were there already?” Vanja asked.
“Let’s see what the library says,” Evgen replied.
He got up and walked over to one of the bookcases. He crouched in front of a shelf near the floor and ran his fingers along the spines, then pulled out a book: About Amatka’s Geography.
Evgen opened the book to the first page. “Layout of the colony, structures, installations. Mushroom farm.” He leafed through the book. “‘The mushroom farm is located at a depth of a hundred feet and covers an area the same size as Amatka. It was originally planned to be built in two levels; however, the bedrock below a hundred feet consists of a species of rock so hard that conventional excavation methods have failed. The advantage of this is, naturally, that Amatka rests on an extremely solid foundation.’”
He closed the book. “There you have it. In other words, either the tunnels were dug in secret—or someone else dug them.”
“What do you believe?” Vanja asked.
“I believe anything’s possible,” Evgen replied. “And I believe the committee knows.” He ran his tongue between his teeth and cheek. “So, a pipe out on the tundra. I’ve never seen that.”
Nina met her at the front door of the house. “Ivar isn’t feeling well.”
“Did something else happen?”
Vanja looked over Nina’s shoulder. Ivar sat by the kitchen table, his head bowed low. Ulla sat next to him with a hand on his shoulder.
“The hearing at the commune office, and then the same thing at the clinic. They really worked him over.” Nina crossed the room to the kitchen cabinet and took out a plate for Vanja.
“I can’t go back down there.” Ivar’s voice was weak and hollow. He muttered a muddled stream of words into his plate. “Nothing I’ve seen exists. They explained that to me. But I know. That they’re there. The tunnels. And people, that there’s people. The doctors say I had a concussion. Maybe the doctors and Nina are right. Maybe I’ve lost my mind. Because that’s the truth, isn’t it? That the tunnels don’t exist? Because I’m the only one who saw them. And the voices. I’ve had a nervous breakdown. Everyone knows I have mental problems. They said as much, my ‘mental health is fragile.’” He sniffled.
Nina sat down across from him and took one of his slender hands in hers. “Having a concussion isn’t the same as being mentally ill, Ivar.”
“I heard the doctors talking to one another. They talked about doing a procedure,” Ivar told the plate. “I know what a procedure is.”
“I know you do, dear,” Ulla said and patted his shoulder.
Vanja glanced at Nina and hesitated. She knew how Nina would react, but she squared her shoulders and said it, for Ivar. “We could go there. I mean, back to where Ivar said he climbed out. Just go there and look, so he can see that he’s not crazy….”
Nina’s lips narrowed. “That’s really not a good idea.”
“But if they’re ruins, then it’s the same as at Essre. Then they’ve always been there. Then it doesn’t matter. Let’s just take a look? For Ivar’s sake. People are going there anyway. They have to investigate.”
Nina shook her head. “Then that’s what we’ll let them do. We’re not going to run off and do something stupid. Are we, Vanja?”
Vanja avoided her eyes. “No,” she mumbled. “It was silly of me.”
“I know what a procedure is,” Ivar said loudly. “They drill into your head and stir your brains around.”
Nina tried to soothe him. “No one’s going to drill into your head, Ivar.”
“Technically,” Ulla said, “they don’t actually stir your brains around. They sever the connections to the prefrontal cortex.”
Ivar burst into tears.
Nina glared at Ulla. “Thanks for that.”
“We all know there’s a risk,” Ulla said. “Even if you won’t admit it. Even if these… ruins… have been here since before.”
“Excuse me,” Nina said, and went upstairs.
Ulla gave Vanja an amused grin. “I think we both know what’s what,” she said. “I think you should go look.”
“Do you know something?” Vanja said.
“What are tunnels for?”
“What do you mean?”
“What does one use tunnels for?”
Vanja shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Travel,” Ulla said. “One uses them to travel.”
Later, when Vanja lay with Nina’s arms around her, her breath in tickling gusts against the back of her head, it was hard to tell which was worse. That she’d lied to Nina when she’d promised her she wouldn’t go out there. Or that Nina might be right, and that by going out there, Vanja would make things worse.
FOURDAY
It was still dark outside. The office wouldn’t open for another couple of hours yet. Nina was fast asleep. Vanja stole out of bed and brought her clothes downstairs to the bathroom, where she got dressed. She didn’t bother with food.
A few workers were out in the streets, pale and drawn from a long shift at work or too little sleep at home, staring blindly at the ground or out into space with bloodshot eyes. Following Ivar’s description, Vanja walked straight west, past the station and across the railway tracks. After that, there was just the grass and the sky.
The grass rustled in the soft breeze. Vanja’s boots splashed into little puddles that dotted the steppe, invisible in the gloom. She walked on until she came to the foot of a small rise. Something stuck out of the ground on the other side. It was too dark to make it out clearly. For a brief moment it was like standing on the hillock outside Essre, and she was sure of what she’d find on the other side: the silhouettes of asymmetrical buildings, little shapes moving between them. Then she reached the top and looked down the other side.