Now Jonas had a thought that he had never had before. This new thought was frightening.
What if others—adults—had, upon becoming Twelves, received in their instructions the same terrifying sentence?
What if they had all been instructed: You may lie? His mind reeled.
Now, empowered to ask questions of utmost rudeness—and promised answers— he could, conceivably (though it was almost unimaginable),
ask someone, some adult, his father perhaps: “Do you lie?” But he would have no way of knowing if the answer he received were true.
Ten
“I GO IN HERE, Jonas,” Fiona told him when they reached the front door of the House of the Old after parking their bicycles in the designated area.
“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” she confessed. “I’ve been here so often before.”
She turned her folder over in her hands. “Well, everything’s different now,” Jonas reminded her.
“Even the nameplates on our bikes,” Fiona laughed. During the night the nameplate of each new Twelve had been removed by the Maintenance Crew
and replaced with the style that indicated citizen-in-training.
“I don’t want to be late,” she said hastily, and started up the steps. “If we finish at the same time, I’ll ride home with you.”
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