Page 19 of The Sixth Fraction

She remembers him. Of course she remembers him; she probably remembers everything. Caleb stares down at his plate, his face burning. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him. Rigid thinking, they’re probably repeating to themselves. They think he’s just like everyone else from his faction, stuck, close-minded, inflexible, dull.

He forces himself to keep eating.

He’ll just have to prove them wrong, that’s all.

Chapter 10

Beatrice

After dinner the Abnegation initiates leave our dishes behind and follow our instructors through the dark, silent hallways of Abnegation headquarters, past the simple stone sculpture in its main lobby—the Choosing Ceremony bowls are already gone—and into a courtyard at the back of the building.

My initiation instructor’s name is Eleanor. She’s not much older than I am, and not much taller, either, with smooth black hair worn in a braid. On one side of the courtyard is the girls’ dormitory; on the other, the boys’. She doesn’t need to tell us that we aren’t allowed in each other’s dorms. It’s the sort of thing that goes unsaid in Abnegation.

Benjamin—the boys’ instructor—assembles us all in a group between the two dormitories. A breeze blows through the courtyard, warm as the rush of air from an oven. The plants in the small garden that Robert tended flutter and twitch.

“Before we let you get some rest, we have to tell you what to expect from initiation.” Benjamin is a little older than Eleanor, maybe, with cheeks that still look hollowed-out from a growth spurt. “You’ve heard this month is a month of service, and that’s true. You’ll each be assigned to a new post every week for four weeks. None of the work is glamorous, but all of it is useful. You’ll learn about this faction, not by listening to someone spout philosophy but by doing—that’s one of our central tenets, that busy hands lead to quiet minds, and quiet minds are wise minds.”

He fidgets a little. Whatever he’s about to say, he’s nervous about it.

“Every faction’s initiation has its secrets,” he says. “And ours is that your month of service will be conducted in complete silence.”

There it is.

All around me, my fellow initiates exchange horrified looks, but I’m rooted in place.

“Isn’t the Penalty of Silence a punishment?” Constance says from somewhere on my right. She sounds tentative, but then, Constance always sounds tentative. “My mom said parents aren’t allowed to impose it for more than two days, and we’re supposed to do it for a month?”

“This month isn’t intended to be a punishment. It’s intended to be a challenge. And it’s intended to show you how much you can learn about each other by doing good work side by side.” Benjamin’s voice softens. “I know it doesn’t make sense right now, but trust me—you’ll be in this together, and you’ll make it through the hard times stronger than you were before. I’m still close to everyone in my initiate class, and Eleanor is, too. Right, Eleanor?”

“I met my fiancé scrubbing bedpans at the hospital. He was a transfer from Amity.” A smile plays over Eleanor’s lips. “We didn’t say a word to each other for three weeks after that.”

Someone on my left—Eustace, maybe—sighs, like this is the most romantic thing he’s ever heard. All I can think is that the Erudite propaganda must be working, if we didn’t get any transfers at all this year—even from Amity.

“Finish up your conversations,” Eleanor says. “Because once you leave this room, you’ll be expected to be silent for the rest of the month unless someone is in danger. No exceptions.”

“What if we mess up?” Martha asks. In primary school Martha was always getting reprimanded for “disorderly appearance,” so her anxiety isn’t surprising. “Do we get kicked out?”

Benjamin smiles a little. “Of course not. But there will be consequences. It’s better not to think about them—just focus on what’s in front of you. Be present. You’ll get through this just fine.”

All around me, everyone starts turning to each other to finish our first and last conversations as Abnegation initiates. Mostly we talk about what we’ve heard about initiation: that the other factions aren’t always kind to their Abnegation volunteers, that the most interesting place to be assigned is the hospital. The air that felt so warm a moment ago now prickles over my skin.

You’ll get through this, I tell myself.

It’s the following morning, I haven’t eaten, and my legs are going numb.

I’m sitting in the courtyard, and the air is crisp enough that I can see my breaths. Abnegation initiates start the day with an hour of meditation, a length of time that feels like an eternity. Days must have passed since I first sat down here, my stomach rumbling with hunger and my eyes still sticky from sleep.

Be present, Eleanor told us. Think about the task at hand, and the person you’re doing that task for and with.

My mind keeps wandering. To Caleb, and whether he’s sleeping on a bed of books, or whatever they do in Erudite initiation. To my parents and Mr. and Mrs. Black, making breakfast in their half-empty apartment. Will they move, now that they don’t have four children living with them? Is Caleb happy with his choice?

And my mind wanders to the woman I saw, too. The one who looked like Evelyn Eaton. I try to remember the weapon she carried, whether it had the iridescent stripe on it that marked it as a nonlethal needle gun . . . or whether it was the lethal weapon that killed Robert.

I fidget, my fingers curling into the fabric of my trousers. The stone is digging into my skin, and I’m cold enough that my teeth are almost chattering. Be present, I tell myself, and I think about breathing again, but it’s useless. I’ve never been one for sitting still.

“Slowly come back to yourself,” Eleanor says. “Open your eyes.”

When we started, the courtyard was bathed in gray light, but now the sun is up. We all stand in silence and walk together toward the cafeteria, where those who work in Abnegation headquarters take their lunches. They aren’t here yet, so we have the room—and its kitchen—to ourselves.