Introduction

They called it "Y3K", a term of endearment.

They all learned the lesson of "Y2K, the Mouse that Roared", and no one believed it could happen again. Everyone was more preoccupied with waiting for the results of the atmospheric tests that according to the scientists were sure to give positive indications that the nuclear winter was over, the ozone layer was finally and fully restored, and that at long last, the next generation will be able to leave the Dome and survive outside. But on the31st of December 2999, at midnight exactly, the unimaginable happened. The mainframe computer controlling the Dome crashed.

Chapter 1

No one knew what caused the disaster. Some claimed it was an act of sabotage, the work of a small extremist group, which in recent years has been very vocal in its demand that the Dome be immediately opened, allowing free passage to anyone who chose to leave. Others claimed that the cause was a system overload due to the atmospheric tests, and that the date was nothing but an unfortunate coincidence.

The Dome Council was immediately convened to an emergency meeting. On the agenda – finding solutions for the two most pressing problems, communication and transportation. The Central System Administration team argued that in order to restore the mainframe to full operation before the energy supply in the emergency backup system is depleted, they need to conduct a complex series of calculations, simulations and tests, an impossible task without a powerful computer. The only suitable stand-alone computer available was a Cray super-computer, kept on display in the Dome museum, deep down in the Vaults. But after almost a thousand years of inoperation, how do you make the old outdated computer interface with the Dome mainframe?

And then the youngest - and newest - Council member, Citizen X-333121, tentatively, almost silently, uttered the word "write".

The Hall went dead silent for a moment, which seemed like forever, and then pandemonium broke loose. Ever since the 2175 International Ban of Logging Treaty, which was enforced with strictness bordering on cruelty, paper production in the world was gradually halted, to the point that over the centuries, the very concept of paper became the stuff of urban myths. No one in the Dome has ever seen paper, or even remembered what it actually looked like. Samples of paper were nowhere to be found, not even in the deepest Vaults of the Museum.

"Order! The meeting will come to order!" the Chairman of the Council, Senior Citizen D-467385, yelled repeatedly, until the commotion died down.

"It would seem to me that our young friend needs a refresher course in History," He said, turning to face X-333121, giving him the sternest look he could muster, but X-333121 stood his ground and wouldn't back down. "The International Ban of Logging Treaty was signed for a reason. It was enforced for a reason. It was the only way to put an end to five years of a bloody and destructive World War…"

"Forgive me, Senior Citizen, distinguished Council members," interrupted X-333121, undaunted, "but it would seem to me that a refresher course in History is the last thing any of us needs right now. We all know about Brazil, the rainforests and the Logging Wars. But this emergency meeting was convened to deal with the present crisis, not with the past…"

But writing?!" interjected an elderly female Council member, Senior Citizen P-555931. "Young man, the very use of that word is tantamount to heresy and blasphemy! Not to mention treason! And don't you think even for a minute that your position as a member of this Council, or your youth and inexperience, can shield you from the penalty! At the very least, you could be voted out and exiled!"

X-333121 turned to face the elderly woman, the embodiment of politeness and respectfulness. "Indeed, Senior Citizen, I am well aware of that. But how exactly would you conduct the vote, unless communication is restored first?"

"Well, I'm curious," The Chairman said, his expression grave and reproachful, supposedly to nip in the bud the squabble about to break out, but clearly siding with Senior Citizen P-555931. "And I too know that this no time for a history lesson. Writing is a skill, and an art. Almost as old as Humanity itself, and I will even concede that in the past, before the War, it could have been used to solve problems of communication. But aren't we forgetting something? The mind's ability to automatically link the form of a character on a key with its written form on paper has been bred out of us, and the ability to write along with it. After almost a Millennia of using keyboards, we don't even bother to teach our children how to hold a pencil, or a pen, so even if we had all the paper, pens and pencils that we needed, to put it bluntly, we wouldn't know what to do with them. So how does that solve our problem?"

Another murmur of consent passed through the Hall, and D-467385 knew that this time they were siding with him – At least most of them. Let's see you talk your way out of this now!

Finally, from a remote corner of the Hall, a voice spoke.

"In that case, perhaps we should listen to the young man. I, for one, would like to hear him out."

The speaker stepped closer to the center of the Hall. Senior Citizen G-142543 was the oldest of the Council members, and some said he was the oldest Citizen alive. He rarely spoke anymore, but when he did, everybody listened, and even Senior Citizen D-467385 deferred to him.

The Hall went silent again. All the Council members waited with baited breath. D-467385 had no doubt that some of them were secretly gloating, taking pleasure in his humiliation. That young, insolent upstart! But he managed to keep his cool. The time for revenge will come.

If X-333121 felt pressured or threatened, he didn't show it. He cleared his throat and spoke, facing the center of the Hall, where Senior Citizen G-142543 stood surrounded by other elderly Council members.

"Distinguished Council members, as you all know, my latest mission in the service of this Council was to conduct an inspection tour of the Sanctuary."

The Sanctuary was a settlement built a few kilometers away from the Dome, near the edge of a regenerating forest, to house offenders accused mostly of violating energy conservation laws – offenses punishable by immediate banishment from the Dome. The very mention of the name made even the bravest of men shudder.

"While I was there," Citizen X-333121 continued, "I've heard rumors of a mysterious figure, an elderly female ex-Citizen, living on the outskirts of the settlement."

A short dramatic pause and then, "The locals say this woman can write."

As the Council members filed silently out of the Hall to conduct their deliberations, X-333121 hung back, reluctant to face the commotion which undoubtedly waited for him outside, when all of a sudden he felt a firm but gentle tap on his shoulder. He turned around to find Senior Citizen G-142543 standing next to him.

"Walk with me," said the old man simply.

Senior Citizen G-142543 led his younger companion through one of the long corridors leading away from the Hall, dark and silent at this time of the evening.

"I've enjoyed reading your reports from the inspection tours of the Sanctuary," he said all of a sudden. "Tell me, when was the first time you ever visited the Sanctuary?"

"Almost two years ago, Senior Citizen." Replied X-333121 dutifully.

"Hmmm. My last time was 25 years ago, just before I retired from the Chairmanship of the Council," said the old man pensively. "I always wanted to go back, but somehow I never got around to it, and anyway, getting the necessary permits is too much of a hassle."

X-333121 felt a growing sense of discomfort. What was the old man getting at? He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Senior Citizen, but with all due respect, have I done…"

"Relax, young man, curiosity is one of the only vices I can still indulge in, at my age." The old man chuckled slightly. "So tell me, is it true?"

"What is, Senior Citizen?"

"That out of 75 ex-Citizens who served out their sentences at the Sanctuary this month and were granted permission to return to the Dome, only 28 of them have availed themselves of this opportunity?"

X-333121 cleared his throat again. "Yes, Senior Citizen, it's true. Last month it was 24 out of 62, and the month before…"

"Yes, I have seen the numbers. Did you know that in the last inspection I conducted, 25 years ago, only 5 out of the 64 ex-Citizens refused to return?"

X-333121 was at a loss for words. The Senior Citizen continued, as if he didn't expect a reply. "It is clear that an alarming pattern is evolving. At the very least, it warrants further investigation."

"I agree, Senior Citizen, but the Council…"

"Don't you worry about the Council. When you interviewed the ones who refused the return, did they strike you as fanatic, or irrational?"

X-333121 hesitated. "No, Senior Citizen, on the contrary, their reasons actually made a lot of sense."

"And what were those reasons?"

X-333121 hesitated again. The Senior Citizen suddenly looked as if his patience was about to run out. "Yes, young man, I did mean the reasons you left out of your report," he said, as if he could read the younger man's mind. "Well?"

"Well, most of them still resent us for banishing them in the first place. Some of them were disowned by their families, and felt they had nowhere and nothing to return to. They thought banishment was a death sentence, but instead they found a new existence, a new lease on life. They have new families, a new generation of children who have never seen the inside of the Dome…"

X-333121 stopped short, realizing he has let his own feelings run out of control. But the Senior Citizen egged him on. "What about the Old Woman? She who can write? Have you actually met her?"

"No, Senior Citizen, no one would take me to her home, and I didn't want to pressure them. It's hard enough to get them to cooperate with the inspection as it is. Besides, I'm still not convinced that it's anything more than a myth."

The Senior Citizen suddenly stopped and faced X-333121, staring into his eyes.

"What if I told you that 50 years ago, a certain young Council member, on an routine inspection tour of the Sanctuary, also heard the rumors about the Old Woman?"

X-333121 dared not breathe, let alone utter a word. To be taken into the old man's confidence like that was almost too overwhelming.

"Yes, they called her She Who Can Write," he continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Silly name, isn't it?"

X-333121 found his voice again. "50 years? But that's almost two generations ago. If the rumors are true and the woman does exist, that would make her almost…"

"Indeed," said the Senior Citizen. "This is why I submitted the motion to the Council, to be put to an immediate vote. And I think they are about to start. Come on."

Senior Citizen G-142543 banged his gavel on the table, and this time the Hall fell silent very quickly, because the members of the Council were all well aware of what was at stake and anxiously waiting for a decision. He cleared his throat and said, pointedly and directly: "Members of the Council, distinguished fellow citizens, as we are all aware of the seriousness of the situation, I will keep this short. We will be putting to an immediate vote a motion submitted by Senior Citizen D-467385. And under the circumstances, the vote will be conducted by a simple show of hands. Should we accept Citizen X-333121’s recommendation and consider the use of writing as the first step towards resolving our current crisis? Yes or no. Those in favor shall now raise their hands."

Not surprisingly, Senior Citizen G-142543 was the first. He was followed, slowly at first and then at an increasing pace, by hands raised one by one. There wasn’t even any need for a count; The majority was clearly overwhelming. Only Senior Citizen P-555931, Citizen D-467385 and a few of their supporters gathered together in one of the corners, expressions blank, stubbornly refusing to show acknowledgment of defeat.

The Chairman of the Council looked over the raised hands, and hesitated for a moment. It was abundantly clear that the outcome of the vote was not to his liking, but he had no choice.

"Well, the motion is carried by a majority of votes," he said finally, and his gaze rested on the face of Citizen X-333121, standing in the corner of the Hall, in the first circle of spectators, eagerly waiting for the outcome of the vote. "Citizen X-333121, since the idea was yours, the Council entrusts you with the following mission. You will return to the Sanctuary, you will find out if the old female ex-Citizen really exists, if she really can write, and if she will agree to teach a select group of scientists to write so that the interface between the Mainframe and old Cray can be reinstated. You may tell her that in return, her sentence will be commuted and she will be allowed to return to the Dome immediately."

The wave of murmurs and exchanges of glances that passed through the crowd died out even faster than Citizen D-467385 could have imagined in the worst of his dreams. It was clear that most of the assembly, unable to offer a solution of their own to the problem, were willing to accept any solution offered to them, even one that was as far-fetched and implausible as the one being discussed.

Citizen X-333121 cleared his throat and said: "Yes, Citizen Chairman. I humbly accept the mission."

Chapter 2

When Citizen X-333121 arrived at the Sanctuary, after a short uneventful flight in his official hovercraft, the community elders welcomed him, as is customary before any inspection, in the small conference hall which, surprisingly enough, was not much different than the Dome's. He could not help but notice the rise in their level of hostility - probably due to the relatively short time that elapsed since the previous inspection. He knew many of them from previous visits there, and even formed bonds of cautious friendships with several of them, including the head of the community, an elderly, dignified-looking former Citizen, who gave up his Citizen designation and chose to go by the name of Michael instead. Michael’s welcoming of Citizen X-333121 was chillier than usual when they both sat opposite each other in the small corner room adjacent to the conference hall. He asked directly, his tone slightly mocking: "Citizen X-333121. To what do we owe the honor this time?”

"We have a problem," Citizen X-333121 replied just as directly. "I was sent to find the woman known as She Who Can Write."

Michael did not respond.

"We have an offer for her," continued Citizen X-333121. "And a guarantee of a full pardon from the Council if she accepts the offer."

"She Who Can Write is an urban myth," Michael finally said, looking squarely at Citizen X-333121’s face. "And I cannot believe that anyone in the Council would be dumb enough…”

"We both know that this is not true," interrupted citizen X-333121. "This is an emergency situation, and we do not have the time for the usual niceties. I have to talk to this woman immediately.”

Michael stood up. The sounds of the crowd beginning to gather in the adjoining Hall were already audible the small room, their impatience growing by the minute. "Let's go meet them," he said.

The appearance of Michael and Citizen X-333121, who was known to some of the assembly from previous inspections, made all the noises die down almost instantly. They took their places on the small raised podium. Michael began to speak, but his voice trailed off as Citizen X-333121 stopped listening to him after the first few introductory words. His attention was focused on studying the assembly. He knew they were all exiled energy offenders, but he was surprised all over again the large number of those who have maxed out on their sentences. Yet still refused to return to the Dome, and were well adapted to life outside, without energy and without the control of a mainframe computer. What surprised him the most, though, was the unusually high number of small children, between the ages of 1 and 3, in the assembly. The average rate of births in the Dome was no more than two per family, and was under strict control. How could I have not noticed this before?

"... Citizen X-333121"?

The questioning tone in Michael's voice brought Citizen X-333121 back to reality. He quickly composed himself.

"I want to thank Michael for allowing me to address you, and I am grateful to all of you for agreeing to hear me out. I realize there are deep differences of opinions between the Dome and the Sanctuary, and I do not presume to think that we can resolve them all at this meeting. But if we can cooperate in resolving the current crisis, I think it would be a step in the right direction. I think it's time. "

Silence.

"I know that She Who Can Write exists. I would like to talk to her. I can guarantee you, on behalf of the Council and myself, that no harm will come not to her, or to anyone who will take me to her."

More silence.

Michael waited for a moment, and then said in a tone that suggested that he considered the discussion of the matter as over. "Well, the Council has the answer. Thank you very much. This meeting is adjourned."

The crowd began to disperse. A few hesitant glances were turned back, but no one said anything. Soon Michael and Citizen X-333121 were the only ones left in the Hall.

"I must admit that this was not what I had expected," said Citizen X-333121 finally.

"I am sorry," Michael said, and Citizen X-333121 was surprised to detect a note of true sadness in his voice. "The truth is that I too expected more, but this is our way of making decisions. Come, I'll walk you back to the hovercraft landing dock."

Chapter 3

After taking his leave from Michael, Citizen X-333121 stood by the opening hatch of his official hovercraft, bewildered. The hovercraft was waiting for him, ready for takeoff, but he could not bring himself to step inside. How will the Council react to the bad news? How could he ever face them again, and most of all, how could face Senior Citizen G-142543 after failing him so miserably?

"Citizen!" A Female voice interrupted his gloomy thoughts.

Citizen X-333121 recoiled, confused and a little upset about being caught in a moment of weakness. An impatient comment was ready on his lips, but he managed to contain it at the very last moment. On the on ramp to the hovercraft landing stood a young woman, who would have probably been considered beautiful in the days when things like that still meant something. He remembered seeing her in one of the first rows, during the meeting.

"Yes, Citizen, how can I help you?" He said as politely as he could manage at that moment.

"Did you mean what you said at the meeting?" She asked, her gaze penetrating and unflinching.

"Of course," he said without hesitation. "I meant every word."

"Do you really believe that She Who Can Write does exist? And that she would be able to help the Dome Council solve the 'crisis', whatever it might be?"

"Yes, I believe it," he replied simply.

"And assuming she will agree to talk to you - and I'm not promising anything - what kind of a guarantee will she have that no harm will come to her?"

"I have a Pardon for her, signed by the hand of the Chairman of the Council himself. All I need to do is add the Citizen Designation," said Citizen X-333121, his despair gradually making way for renewed hope. "If she agrees to help, she will not be harmed, neither will anyone who takes me to her. She will be allowed to return immediately to the Dome, or stay here, if that’s her wish."

"Even if the use of writing doesn't yield the desired results?" The young woman insisted.

Citizen X-333121 hesitated. He had no ready-made answer for that question, since this possibility was never discussed by the Council, but he did not want to show any kind of evasiveness or insincerity that would alienate the young woman. "I'm sorry. Such an outcome it totally unacceptable to me. If I wasn’t convinced of this, I would not be here."

Citizen X-333121 s felt as if the direct, unwavering gaze of the young woman penetrated the very core of his soul.

"All right," she said finally. "I will take you to her."

The Old Woman, also known as She Who Can Write, lived at the edge of the settlement, in a house that looked like an 18th century English country house that Citizen X-333121 has seen in the hologram database in the archives. The young woman opened the door, motioned Citizen X-333121 to a seat on a comfortable looking sofa in the living room, and said: "I'll get her. It may take some time to convince her to talk to you. Please wait patiently and do not touch anything."

Before he could respond, she disappeared in one of the inner rooms of the house, and he was left alone in the living room. He did not dare stand up, as he respected the young woman's request not to touch anything. He did not know her Citizen Designation, since she was not on the recent list of candidates for pardon, and he assumed she was the daughter of exiled energy offenders who was born in the settlement and has never seen the inside of the Dome. Gradually it dawned on him that thinking of her simply as "the Young Woman" was actually quite pleasing…

"You wanted to talk to me?" An old, squeaky voice interrupted his thoughts, and he jumped up, startled. Before him stood a woman of medium height, her face deeply wrinkled, her head crowned with thick knot of gray hair. Her trembling hands held a tray carrying a teakettle, two decorated teacups and saucers, and a small platter of biscuits. She looks like a distinguished Victorian lady, but much older than Queen Victoria, Citizen X-333121 thought. Heck, she is even older than Senior Citizen G-142543. Is it possible that a human could survive that long outside the dome?

She set the tray on the small table in front of the couch, sat down heavily on an old, battered looking but well-preserved armchair, and stared at him intently.

"Sit down, young man," she said impatiently. "I have no time for the usual useless niceties. What did you want to talk to me about?"

He sat down slowly. "All right. I don’t know how much you’ve already heard, but we have an emergency situation and we need your help."

"Yes, I’ve heard." The woman made no effort to hide the mockery in her voice. "Your little computer crashed, and you want me to teach your scientists to write. Is that about right?"

"Yes," He replied simply.

"Whose brilliant idea was this, if I may ask?"

Citizen X-333121 hesitated. "Mine," he had to admit at last.

"Yours?" She burst out laughing, a real, honest laugh, which she could hardly restrain seeing the look of indignation that came over his face. "I understand the urgency of the situation, really," she said, and for the first time there was a sympathetic tone to her voice. "I'm sorry, I do apologize, but Even if I were to admit that I am the person you are looking for, what do you even know about writing?"

"Nothing," he had to admit again. "You know that very well."

"Young man, allow me to put it as bluntly as I can. If you, or anyone in your precious Council, think that you can teach someone to write in three days, even assuming an inexhaustible supply of paper and pens and pencils is available, you are very naive or very stupid."

Citizen X-333121 has never considered this aspect of the problem, but he knew she was telling the truth.

"And how long do you have before the emergency system crashes? Three days?" She continued.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

He nodded "The scientists are willing to try," he said finally. "They are willing to try, because they know there is no other solution. Do you have any idea what this means to them?"

"When my family and I were exiled from the Dome decades ago, the scientists had no idea what it meant to us," she said, with a sudden, renewed hostility. "We chose not to return after we had been allowed to do so, and we have no interest in what happens in the Dome..."

"If you help us, you will receive a full pardon, you and your entire family," he interrupted, pulled out his mobile workstation and rapidly typed on a few keys. "I just need your Citizen Designation."

"My Citizen Designation?" She repeated the words as if she had no idea what they meant. "I'm sorry, I must have had one of those when I was younger, but I forgot it. We do not use Citizen Designations here."

CitizenX-333121 looked up from his workstation in frustration. Every time I seem to be making some kind of progress!

"What about the young woman who brought me here?" He said, trying a different angle. "Is she your daughter? Your granddaughter? A part of your Family?"

The old woman shrugged. "She's my daughter, my granddaughter, my sister, my mother, she is every woman that is, was or will be," she said philosophically, thoughtfully, then pulled herself together and said firmly, "All right, if your scientists will cooperate, but on two conditions."

Citizen X-333121's heart almost missed a beat. "What conditions?" he said.

"Your scientists will come here," she said.

"Acceptable. And the second condition?"

"I have no interest in your pardon. I vowed years ago that never again will I set foot in the Dome. But if anyone else in the Settlement is harmed because of their involvement in this..."

"No one will be harmed," Citizen X-333121 reassured her. "There will be no registration and there will be no record. I personally guarantee that. But you have to tell me one thing. Are you really She Who Can Write?"

The woman smiled, and the mischievous twinkle in her eyes made her look decades younger for a moment. "Pour yourself a cup of tea and take a biscuit, son," she said. "They are very good, I made them myself."

Citizen X-333121 left the Old Woman's house on his way back to the hovercraft landing dock feeling elated, but his curiosity got the better of him. What was the secret of the old woman’s longevity? To the best of his knowledge, there was no real difference between life expectancy inside or outside the Dome, at least not in recent generations, and old people like the Old Woman - and like Senior Citizen G-142543 - were the exception to the rule. In all of his previous visits to the settlement, he has never seen any citizens even approaching the Old Woman’s age. This fact, combined with the unusual number of small children he has seen at the assembly, led him to believe that the change that was taking place here was deeper and more significant than could have been imagined, and he was convinced that the key to solving the mystery was in the Old Woman’s hands.

And so, instead of continuing on his way to the hovercraft landing dock, Citizen X-333121 stopped and looked around. It was dusk, and there was no one around. All of his previous inspection visits to the Sanctuary were held in broad daylight, and ever since he was born in the Dome, he never had to be afraid of the dark. Until now.

He hesitated for a moment, and then turned back towards the Old Woman's house. Carefully, without a making a sound, he opened the small metal gate, which fortunately for him, was well oiled and unlocked. He snuck in and started tiptoeing around the well-kept back yard, circling the house until he found a half-open window, and peered inside. The room looked like a lady’s bedroom, designed in the same style as the living room. A pile of clothes was scattered around on the floor. Is it conceivable that such a fastidious, old-fashioned woman as herself would treat her cloths so carelessly even when there was no one around? He wondered for a moment, and his conscience began to torment him for this gross violation of the woman’s privacy.

Then his gaze turned towards the small bedside table and he saw the thing that made the blood in his veins curdle. A head crowned with a thick knot of gray hair was mounted on a small easel in a corner of the table.

At that moment an inner door leading from an adjoining room opened up, and in walked lightly a young woman, who went straight to the table and sat down in front of the mirror. It took him a few seconds to realize that she was removing remains of makeup from her face. Even though her back was turned to him and he was too far away to see her reflection in the mirror, he immediately recognized the black mane of hair.

It was the young woman who led him from the assembly to the home of She Who Can Write.

He did not know what it was exactly that drew her attention, but all of a sudden she jumped up, so startled that the chair was knocked off from under her, hitting the floor with a thunder, while he reeled back, tripped and fell. He never got to see her leave the room, but before he managed to recover enough to try to get up, she was standing over him, a heavy cane in her hands, raised up in an unequivocally menacing gesture.

"Calm down!" He raised his arms defensively. "I have no intention of hurting you! I swear!"

"You have exactly two seconds before I start screaming and get the entire settlement out here," she said sharply, unimpressed. "Why didn't you go back to your precious Dome? What do you want from me?! Speak up!"

Slowly, cautiously, he drew himself up to a sitting position. "I have never lied to you. Every word I said to you was true. But you fooled me. You fooled all of us, didn't you?"

"How did you know?" She said after a slight hesitation.

"I didn't know. I had a hunch. And I think you owe me an explanation."

She lowered the cane. Her lips curled with the slightest hint of a smile. "Get up, before someone sees you and we both become the laughing stock of the Settlement. Follow me."

Citizen X-333121 found himself again sitting on the sofa in the living room of the woman’s house - how would he call her now? The Old Woman? The Young Woman? – Feeling like a deflated balloon. The rapid turns of events, the whirlwind transitions between hope and despair and back again, almost made his head spin. Again, she set the tray of tea and biscuits before him, but he could not bring himself to touch the refreshments.

"Well, what do you want to know?" She asked finally.

"What is going on here?" He said, almost pleadingly. "Who is She Who Can Write? Who are you? Can you really write, or have I wasted valuable time here for nothing?"

"In our settlement, every small child knows how to write," she said simply. "We have to teach them. They do not have access to most of the technology that the Dome depends so much upon."

"But how is that possible?" He asked in amazement. "How did you manage to hide all this from the inspectors? And where did you get paper, and…"

"In the beginning, we had a supply, and we zealously preserved anything that could be salvaged," she explained. "When we ran out paper, we had to find…other creative solutions."

To his surprise, she cleared the tray off the small table, set it on the floor, removed the tablecloth, and exposed an old, plain looking wooden board. She lifted it up, and the bottom revealed what looked like a blackboard commonly used in classrooms in schools before the War. "The children learn to write on such boards..."

"But children…" He echoed, bewildered. "Children!?”

"Yes, like I said, all our children learn how to write at an early age," she explained. "We make our own writing tools, from local materials. I am not an expert on technical things, you see. We record and save everything worth saving, delete the rest, and start all over again."

"But how in the world did you manage to hide all this from the eyes of the Council?"

"It was much easier than any of us could have imagined. It's very simple. The Council has never paid any attention to the children."

He hesitated for a moment. "I have."

"Yes. I did sense something different in you. That you were not like all the other inspectors sent here by the Council. That's why I decided to bring you here. I wanted to know how much you can be trusted with. I did not mean to let you in on the whole secret, but ..."

"I think it's too late to turn the clock back now," he said.

"You're right." She agreed. "My mother's ancestors were a family of refugees from post-war Brazil. They supported the ban on logging, but they strongly opposed the Treaty. They claimed that the Treaty would destroy Brazil and cause a world war, but nobody listened to them. After the survivors of the war moved into Domes for the first time. They never stopped voicing their opinions, and they were very loud about it. So they were among the first who were exiled from the Dome for so-called energy offences. They were among the founders of the Sanctuary, and over time they were joined by many others…"

"You said 'Domes'. In the plural..." he repeated pensively. "So the legends are true... There really was more than one..." Seeing a strange look came over her face, he could not control the sense of triumph that came over him. I bet you did not know that I knew this!

"Oh, yes we have our legends too," he quickly added, allowing himself to let some of his guard down. "In the Archives of the Dome there are some conflicting reports about this issue. According to one version, several Domes were in fact built in the beginning, but no one knows their exact number. There were even some attempts to maintain some form of communication between them, but not for long. Some of them probably ran out of energy at a much earlier stage than others, and gradually we came to believe that we were the last survivors. "

"And you’ve never organized search parties to find the other Domes?" She asked curiously.

"In the first generations after the war it was impossible. The distances were simply too big. Even today, they are way beyond the flight range of our hovercrafts."

She nodded in agreement. "Yes, we also knew that there were other Domes. And possibly other Sanctuaries too. Among the first exiled there were many who had acquaintances, friends and relatives in other parts of the world. But they were too busy just surviving."

"The Domes were designed to be Noah's Arcs," said Citizen X-333121. "But instead they become Generation Ships."

"And all this without moving even as much as an inch," she finished.

He lowered his head for a moment. "So what do we do now?" He finally asked. “And what does all that have to do with She Who Can Write?"

"Among the first who were exiled there were many educated people. Teachers. Reporters. Writers. They belong to a generation when children stopped reading. They dreaded the day when children will stop writing. When they realized that one of the side effects of living in the Dome will be the loss of the ability to write, they decided to do act. They vowed to keep the flame of writing even after the last piece of paper becomes a distant memory."

Citizen X-333121 shook his head. It was obvious that he was having trouble accepting, let alone believing, what he had heard.

"All right, I can understand why the Dome Council would accept the ban on the use of paper, but a total ban on writing? That’s quite a stretch. After all, they too could have designed creative solutions that would have allowed children to learn how to write. Instead, they just stopped trying..."

"In those early days, it was not exactly at the top of their priority list. The transition process from writing to typing was already well under way, and they thought it is irreversible," She said, and then added: "And they were right."

"They were right?" Citizen X-333121 echoed, confused again.

"Yes. In order to save the craft of handwriting, more extreme measures were necessary. But they would not listen. And, gradually, the first group of people who dedicated their lives to the teaching and the preservation of writing was formed. The leader of that group happened to be, well, an old woman, and so she became the first Old Woman. When she passed, another simply took her place, and so the secret was passed from generation to generation for centuries, along with the cloths, the wig, and everything else. Right under the Council's nose."

She paused for a moment and took a sip from her tea.

He decided to change the subject a little,

"You said that you don't use your Citizen Designations out here," he said. "But Michael... He is Dome-born, wasn't he? It shouldn't be too difficult to find out what his Citizen Designation was. What is his role in all of this?”

“Michael… is my father,” She said simply,

Citizen X-333121's mouth remained gaping with amazement for a moment.

"When he was exiled from the Dome, he was a naive and inexperienced young man. It took him a long time to adapt to our ways. He had a lot of rage in him about the injustice he suffered. But over time he was revealed to be a natural born leader. Had he gone back to the Dome, he would have probably become a high ranking member of the Council. Then he met my mother, who was undergoing the training to assume the role of She Who Can Write. She told him the truth, and he promised her that if they ever had a daughter and she would be found qualified to assume the role, he would not stand in her way."

"In other words, the role is passed from generation to generation, but not necessarily from mother to daughter?"

"No, the truth is that this is actually quite rare. In every generation there are several candidates, and the selection is made based on the merit alone."

"And what does the chosen one do when she finds someone she wants to start a family with?"

"Just what my father and my mother did," she smiled. “If I ever have a daughter and she is found qualified to assume the role, I won’t stand in her way."

"And... what if you have a son?" He asked warily.

She laughed, the same full, real laughter he heard from her before. "Yes, actually, we had a few of them. There were boys who went through the training and were found most suitable to play the role, but the myth had taken hold so much that it was impossible to replace the 'She' with a 'He'."

"If you do not have a Citizen Designation, what should I call you? The Old One? The Young One?"

"I have a name," she replied, and the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. "My name is Maria."

Then, as if suddenly making her mind up, she rose and said: "Come with me, I want to show you something."

She led him back to the bedroom. The carpet was rolled out, revealing a trap door in the floor. The door opened and led to a short staircase leading to an underground passage, clean and well ventilated. The passage was dimly lit by a few lighting fixtures in the ceiling. At the end of the passage, which was about twenty meters long, stood a heavy metal door, locked with a combination lock. She clicked the combination on the control panel, and the door opened smoothly, noiselessly. It led into a large room, also well-lit and ventilated, its walls covered with larger versions of the blackboard he saw earlier in the house, and more doors, two on each side, all of which were locked up now. There was a bunch of tables and chairs set up in front of each blackboard

"Welcome to our school," said Maria.

Chapter 4

When Citizen X-333121 made his short way from the hovercraft landing dock to the Council Hall in the Dome, his gate quick and brisk, he was astonished to see that first signs of energy shortage were already becoming evident everywhere. Some of the lights were dimmer. Some non-essential systems have been shut down. I was only gone for about twelve hours, he thought to himself. Is it possible that I am already too late?

A group of young Council members was waiting anxiously by the entrance of the Hall. They were all his peers, he knew most of them to some degree, and some of them were the closest thing to friends that he has ever had. They spoke in whispering tones that often sounded louder than any shout.

When they saw him approaching, they fell silent at once, and all eyes were turned on him.

"What happened?" He finally asked. "Don’t tell they’ve already started to ration out energy..."

"What happened?" One of them retorted reproachfully. "We’ve been trying to reach you on the com for hours. We were beginning to think that something terrible happened to you..."

"Or that you've decided not to come back," Another said accusingly.

"I'm sorry, I was so busy preparing my report to the Council, I didn’t realize that the com system in my hovercraft was disabled. I must have accidentally pushed the wrong switch," he said apologetically. "Let's go. We have no time to lose."

The news of Citizen X-333121’s safe return, accompanied by unsubstantiated rumors that his mission was apparently crowned with success, spread rapidly, and all the Council members arrived at the conference Hall within minutes, including Senior Citizen P-555931, and Senior Citizen G-142543, who took his usual place in the observers’ gallery. The last one to enter was the Chairman, and the Hall immediately fell silent.

The Chairman decided to dispense with all the formalities usually associated with an official opening of a council meeting and turned directly towards Citizen X-333121. "Is it true?" he asked. "You found her? You found She Who Can Write?"

"Yes, Citizen Chairman, I did," replied Citizen X-333121. "I found her. And she really can write. And she agreed to help."

A wave of sighs of relief passed through the Hall.

"She has only two conditions. That the scientists come to her, and that she will never be forced to return to the Dome," Citizen X-333121 continued.

The Chairman of the Council hesitated. All eyes were upon him. He was well aware of the burden of his responsibility. He stood up.

"Anyone who has any objection to those two conditions, raise your hand now."

Several tense seconds passed. Citizen X-333121 turned his head briefly towards Senior Citizen P-555931. Would she dare to raise her hand this time?

To his surprise, and much to his relief, not a single hand was raised.

"The conditions are acceptable," said the Chairman. "What is the status of our systems?"

A young Council member, from the Central System Administration team, stood up. "We are redirecting all our energy resources to the old Cray, and it is functioning fairly well, although very slowly. We use it to operate the emergency systems, but in my opinion we have less than 24 hours to complete the calculations, otherwise we will have to make some tough decisions."

"What do the scientists say? Are they ready?"

A veteran council member, who served as the head of the science department of the Council and was known, among other things, as an expert on ecology and climatology, stepped forward. He was also known as one of the few among the scientists who believed that the time to leave the Dome for good has almost come.

"Yes, Citizen Chairman," he said. "The all volunteered as one. They are ready to leave immediately."

"Well, then this is the decision of the Council," The Chairmen was supposedly addressing the entire Council, but Citizen X-333121 felt like his words were meant for his ears only.. "A team of scientists and technicians will leave immediately for the Sanctuary to complete the calculations under the guidance of She Who Can Write. The team will avoid any unnecessary contact with the locals and will focus solely on the task at hand."

Citizen X-333121 cleared his throat and raised his hand humbly.

"Yes, Citizen X-333121," The Chairman said patiently.

"Citizen Chairman, distinguished Council members, I would like to be allowed to complete the mission I started," he said, stunned by his own display of boldness. "I request to join the team. They will need a liaison with the local leadership, someone who already knows the people involved..."

He stopped short, embarrassed by the sudden silence in the Hall, but then Senior Citizen G-142543, who up to now had not uttered a single word, got up and said in the nonchalant tone, typical to those who have already seen it all and heard it all: "Citizen Chairman, distinguished Council members, I know I'm only an observer here, but since this is most likely my last chance to address this Council, I would beg your patience and forgiveness. I know this upstart young Citizen did not exactly follow the acceptable norms of the Council, but I think you should grant his request, if only as a reward for his excellent service to this Council."

He sat down heavily. To Citizen X-333121’s great surprise, a murmur of approval passed through the crowd.

"Your request is granted, Citizen X-333121," said the Chairman. "I am convinced that the entire Council will join me in wishing the best of success to the team. This meeting is adjourned."

The delegation was met at the hovercraft landing dock by Michael and some of the leaders of the settlement. Citizen X-333121’s eyes searched around for the young woman, Maria, but she was not there. When his eyes met Michael's, he saw in them the unspoken question, almost a plea, and responded with a confident, reassuring look. The plea in Michael's eyes made way for gratitude. Words were no longer necessary.

Michael led the delegation not to Maria’s house, but to the assembly hall. There too there was a trap door in the floor, right beneath the small raised podium, revealing staircase. The team members walked down the stairs slowly, carefully, with a mixture of curiosity and fear. Some of them have already taken part in inspections in the past, just like myself, and sat on this very podium, without ever imagining what lay underneath? Citizen X-333121 pondered to himself. And how much time have we wasted on inspecting the wrong things?

The passageway which opened at the bottom of the stairs was longer than that the one that opened under Maria's house - Citizen X-333121 estimated it was at least twice as long - but it was also well-lit and ventilated. Michael, taking the lead, opened the door, quickly typing the code on the control panel, just like his daughter did - how long ago? Less than 12 hours? - And the door opened without a sound. Citizen X-333121 remained at the end of the column, allowing the other team members to enter into the room one by one. Michael now brought in the rear.

But even Citizen X-333 121 was not prepared for what he saw when he finally went inside. The door opened, as he knew in advance, to the Hall that Maria called the School. But this time the room was full. Fifty children were sitting on the chairs in front of the blackboards on the wall, roughly divided more into five age groups, the youngest aged three or four and the oldest about sixteen. Next to each such group stood an adult - there were three women and two men - waiting patiently, back to the wall. In the center of the room, on a plain chair, sat the Old Woman. She gazed long and hard at the team members, who were gathered near the entrance, frozen in their places, shocked by what they saw. The children looked at them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, but there was no sign of fear.

The Old Woman gave Citizen X-333121 another one of her soul penetrating looks. She knew he had kept his promise and did not betray her secret. Finally she rose heavily to her feet and said: "Our guests have arrived, children. Are you ready?"

The children got up, in well-orchestrated movements, and joined the adults standing by the blackboards.

"Gentlemen, you are welcome to take your seats," she said, addressing the team members who hadn't dared move away from their position by the wall. "Let's begin."