man did not give the standard accepting-of-apology response.
After a moment, Jonas went on, “But I thought – I mean I think,” he corrected, reminding himself that if precision of language were ever to be important, it was certainly important now, in the presence of this man, “that you are the Receiver of Memory. I’m only, well, I was only assigned, I mean selected, yesterday. I’m not anything at all. Not yet.”
The man looked at him thoughtfully, silently. It was a look that combined interest, curiosity, concern, and perhaps a little sympathy as well.
Finally he spoke. “Beginning today, this moment, at least to me, you are the Receiver.
“I have been the Receiver for a long time. A very, very long time. You can see that, can’t you?”
Jonas nodded. The man was wrinkled, and his eyes, though piercing in their unusual lightness, seemed tired. The flesh around them was darkened into shadowed circles.
“I can see that you are very old,” Jonas responded with respect. The Old were always given the highest respect.
The man smiled. He touched the sagging flesh on his own face with amusement. “I am not, actually, as old as I look,” he told Jonas. “This job has aged me. I know I look as if I should be scheduled for release very soon. But actually I have a good deal of time left.
“I was pleased, though, when you were selected. It took them a long time. The failure of the previous selection was ten years ago, and my energy is starting to diminish. I need what strength I have remaining for your training. We have hard and painful work to do, you and I.
“Please sit down,” he said, and gestured towards the nearby chair. Jonas lowered himself on to the soft cushioned seat.
The man closed his eyes and continued speaking. “When I became a Twelve, I was selected, as you were. I was frightened, as I’m sure you are.” He opened his eyes for a moment and peered at Jonas, who nodded.
The eyes closed again. “I came to this very room to begin my training. It was such a long time ago.
“The previous Receiver seemed just as old to me as I do to you. He was just as tired as I am today.”
He sat forward suddenly, opened his eyes and said, “You may ask questions. I have so little experience in describing this process. It is forbidden to talk of it.”
“I know, sir. I have read the instructions,” Jonas said.
“So I may neglect to make things as clear as I should.” The man chuckled. “My job is important and has enormous honour. But that does not mean I am perfect, and when I tried before to train a successor, I failed. Please ask any questions that will help you.”
In his mind, Jonas had questions. A thousand. A million questions. As many questions as there were books lining the walls. But he did not ask one, not yet.
The man sighed, seeming to put his thoughts in order. Then he spoke again. “Simply stated,” he said, “although it’s not really simple at all, my job is to transmit to you all the memories I have within me. Memories of the past.”
“Sir,” Jonas said tentatively, “I would be very interested to hear the story of your life, and to listen to your memories.
“I apologise for interrupting,” he added quickly.
The man waved his hand impatiently. “No apologies in this room. We haven’t time.”
“Well,” Jonas went on, uncomfortably aware that he might be interrupting again, “I am really interested, I don’t mean that I’m not. But I don’t exactly understand why it’s so important. I could do some adult job in the community, and in my recreation time I could come and listen to the stories from your childhood. I’d like that. Actually,” he added, “I’ve done that already, in the House of the Old. The Old like to tell about their childhoods, and it’s always fun to listen.”
The man shook his head. “No, no,” he said. “I’m not being clear. It’s not my past, not my childhood that I must transmit to you.”
He leaned back, resting his head against the back of the upholstered chair. “It’s the memories of the whole world,” he said with a sigh. “Before you, before me, before the previous Receiver, and generations before him.”
Jonas frowned. “The whole world?” he asked. “I don’t understand. Do you mean not just us? Not just the community? Do you mean Elsewhere, too?” He tried, in his mind, to grasp the concept. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand exactly. Maybe I’m not smart enough. I don’t know what you mean when you say ‘the whole world’ or ‘generations before him’. I thought there was only us. I thought there was only now.”
“There’s much more. There’s all that goes beyond – all that is Elsewhere – and all that goes back, and back, and back. I received all of those, when I was selected. And here in this room, all alone, I re-experience them again and again. It is how wisdom comes. And how we shape our future.”
He rested for a moment, breathing deeply. “I am so weighted with them,” he said.
Jonas felt a terrible concern for the man, suddenly.
“It’s as if …” The man paused, seeming to search his mind for the right words of description. “It’s like going downhill through deep snow on a sledge,” he said, finally. “At first it’s exhilarating: the speed; the sharp, clear air, but then the snow accumulates, builds up on the runners, and you slow, you have to push hard to keep going, and—”
He shook his head suddenly, and peered at Jonas. “That meant nothing to you, did it?” he asked.
Jonas was confused. “I didn’t understand it, sir.”
“Of course you didn’t. You don’t know what snow is, do you?”
Jonas shook his head.
“Or a sledge? Runners?”
“No, sir,” Jonas said.
“Downhill? The term means nothing to you?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“Well, it’s a place to start. I’d been wondering how to begin. Move to the bed, and lie face down. Remove your tunic first.”
Jonas did so, a little apprehensively. Beneath his bare chest, he felt the soft folds of the magnificent cloth that covered the bed. He watched as the man rose and moved first to the wall where the speaker was. It was the same sort of speaker that occupied a place in every dwelling, but one thing about it was different. This one had a switch, which the man deftly snapped to the end that said OFF.
Jonas almost gasped aloud. To have the power to turn the speaker off! It was an astonishing thing.
Then the man moved with surprising quickness to the corner where the bed was. He sat on a chair beside Jonas, who was motionless, waiting for what would happen next.
“Close your eyes. Relax. This will not be painful.”
Jonas remembered that he was allowed, that he had even been encouraged, to ask questions. “What are you going to do, sir?” he asked, hoping that his voice didn’t betray his nervousness.
“I am going to transmit the memory of snow,” the old man said, and placed his hands on Jonas’s bare back.
JONAS FELT NOTHING unusual at first. He felt only the light touch of the old man’s hands on his back.
He tried to relax, to breathe evenly. The room was absolutely silent, and for a moment Jonas feared that he might disgrace himself