The Museum | Teen Ink

The Museum

July 22, 2014
By Kaleigh27 BRONZE, Mendon, Utah
Kaleigh27 BRONZE, Mendon, Utah
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." -JK Rowling


The Museum

Dee held tightly to the rope. In the darkness above her hovered a small dot, the entrance of the shaft—or was it the exit? A few minutes had passed since she started her descent. She peered keenly below her, hoping to see the bottom. Her stomach tilted when the rope made another small lurch downward. Her breathing quickened, sounding strange and unnaturally loud inside her sealed white suit. Dim lamps aligned the walls every few feet as she continued down, the dusty air swallowing her. She squeezed her eyes shut while she tried to keep her fear of heights under control.
“How’s it going down there?” crackled Yale’s voice over the com.
Instinctively, Dee pressed the com closer to her ear. “Good so far,” she replied, her voice shaking slightly. “The entrance is so low. I wish it wasn’t. It’s scary in here.”
“You’ll be fine,” Yale assured. “You’re just nervous because it’s your first time. And you know that the guys who dug the tunnel double- and triple-checked to make sure this place is safe.” Yale’s voice paused for just a moment. “Of course, there may be explosives hidden in the building, ready to detonate when anyone steps foot inside.”
“Thanks a lot,” Dee retorted.
Boris’s commanding tone forced itself in. “You’ll be fine, Dee, you’re almost there. And we have defenses against the traps. Just focus on the mission.”
With the light shining from her visor, Dee could see the cavern floor. Her eyes followed the bending tunnel until they found a faint rectangular shape emerging from the wall. “Hey, I think I am almost there!” she exclaimed, nervously. Once she was only a couple of feet off the ground, she unlatched herself from the rope, and landed on the floor with a loud, “Oof!”
“Careful, Dee!” Boris warned.
Dee jumped up, dusted herself off, and rushed toward the wall. “I found the doors!” She reached into the bag strapped to her side and pulled out a little gadget. It vibrated slightly as she aimed it at the doorway. “I’m scanning them right now.”
A loud ding emitted from the device.
“The trackie says I am good to go through!”
Dee brought a flashlight out of her bag. She clicked it on and winced at the bright light reflecting off the metal framing a darkly lit doorway. The uncertainty of what lie ahead made Dee shiver. She steeled herself and entered. Once inside, the light bounced off smooth marbled walls and pure glass counters, illuminating the room like strange fireworks.
“It’s so beautiful in here!” Dee exclaimed, her blue eyes searching the ivory-colored room. On the far wall, a formerly magnificent carving loomed high above the front desk. Dee could make out the portrait of a grave woman, wearing an elaborate helmet and breastplate. In her left hand, she held a spear. Though the engraving had worn away, Dee thought the woman’s right hand was beckoning her forward. The woman looked sad, but also confident and strong.
“Why did the Nation ever want to shut this place down?”
“Remember our mission, Dee!” Boris reminded her. “We’ve got to find out if this building has to be incinerated or not. That’s our top priority!”
“We know, Boris. Don’t be such a stickler! You’re not the only one that graduated from the Research Academy,” Yale protested.
“I know that you know, but it always seems like I have to remind you. And it’s my job as well. I am the higher-ranking officer here,” Boris said. “And Dee, you still need to be careful.”
“I got it,” she assured him. She aimed the trackie at the next set of doors. Once again it gave a loud ding, confirming the area was clear. She continued along, searching the room, but all she could see were empty glass cases. “There’s nothing in this room. I’m going to check the next one.”
Quickly, she crossed the floor, sidled passed the cases, and planted herself in front of the door that led to the next room. Dee ran her trackie once more, but this time it gave a loud warning bell. “This room isn’t stable!” Dee stumbled backwards, nearly toppling the case behind her.
“Alright! Time for me to do something!” Yale exclaimed. “Slap the disarmer on the door, Dee!”
Dee took a deep breath and grabbed another gadget from her bag. She gently placed it on the door, then quickly backed away, stepping as softly as she could on the marble floor.
“Okay, what do we have here,” Yale muttered excitedly. “I hope it’s something tricky, like a laser net, that would be totally awesome! Or maybe a bomb, then I could—”
“Yale! Focus!” Boris ordered.
“Fine!” Yale snapped. “Alright… the disarmer is picking up something… and… dang it!”
“What, what?” Dee asked, nervously.
“It’s a fake. The trap is a fake,” Yale explained, bitterly. “Its just a decoy. You’ll be fine if you go in.”
Dee sighed. “Whew! Okay. I’m going in.” Hesitantly, she pushed open the doors, sticking her flashlight in. Around the room, lining the walls, were several leather chests, all closed, and three tall black shelves filled with an assortment of ancient artifacts. Immediately to Dee’s right sat a big wooden box, circled by a colored fluorescent lights, which had long been dead. Dee paused.
“What do you see?” Boris asked.
“It’s some sort of special artifacts room,” answered Dee, searching the area, “there’s some really old stuff in here. They’ve got a… and old…” Dee peered through half-moon glass window of the fluorescent light decorated box, counting the small black discs neatly lined up in two rows. “I can’t remember what it’s called,” Dee said, “but it’s huge and—oh my gosh! I see a collection of those green papers!” She rushed over to the first shelf, where she found stacks of small plastic cases, each carrying a single sheet of faded paper. Dee lifted a case from the nearest stack.
“What’s that?” Boris asked.
“It’s those… um, the paper credits they used for trading in the old Society.” Dee slowly searched the remaining shelves. Each one held dozens of rectangular wooden boxes, each carefully labeled, though Dee didn’t recognize many of the words. She opened the one nearest her flashlight. “Ooh! And boxes of … those paper images.”
“This is good!” Boris proclaimed. “I think these documents will hold enough information to tell us what we need to know!”
“Bring them back up here, and we’ll scan ‘em!” Yale ordered.
“Okay, okay, you two. Let me just put them in the pouch!” Dee gently placed one of the plastic cases and a wooden box inside her sack. She glanced at the chests in the far corner of the room. She itched to open one. “Are you sure I shouldn’t investigate more?”
“We can’t, Dee! You know the rules; we’ve only half an hour. We’re running out of time!”
“Just one moment!” Dee protested. “I want to check one of these chests.”
“Okay, but be quick!” Boris pleaded.
Dee knelt next to the closest chest and cracked the lid open. She rummaged through the artifacts carefully. There were some keys, a box of rusted tools, and a container of golden chains and sparkly jewels. Dee stared at the jewels, admiring their brilliance in the flashlight. But then, Dee noticed something else gleaming in the chest— a small, thin blue book with gold lettering. Dee lifted it out of the chest. Gazing at it, she could see that the gold ink had mostly worn off, but the leather still held the imprint.
Dee’s guts told her that this little book was terribly important and she should probably take it, but Boris would be angry with her if she brought an unauthorized item with her. Still, Dee felt she needed to take the book. So she hid it in an inside pocket of her white satchel.
“Hurry, Dee!” If Yale was telling her to go, then she really was short on time. She stood and hurried back to the entrance. Even though she felt the pressure of the clock, she glanced back at the strange woman on the wall.
“Thanks,” Dee whispered and she rushed away to the waiting rope.
“Alright!” she called out, gripping the rope and clasping it to her suit. “Pull me up!”
Dee heard a huge whir, and the rope tugged her up into the air, a bit faster than she had come down. For the moment, her excitement left no room for her fear of heights. Before she knew it, she reached to the top of the shaft. She headed up into the easy light of a gray-walled room in the small research building.
Dee unclasped the rope, unzipped her suit and took off her helmet. Her dark brown hair fell from the helmet and onto her back. After she unhooked the white satchel from her suit, she turned around and saw Yale and Boris waiting for her.
Through the thick lenses of his glasses, Yale’s green eyes seemed two sizes to large, and his sandy hair stuck up as if somebody had shocked him. He spoke, excitedly, “Well? Where are they?”
Boris sighed, his blue eyes rolling. “Calm yourself, Yale.” But Dee noticed that he too glanced eagerly at the white satchel in her hand.
Dee quickly walked over to the gadget-covered table in the middle of the room, the walls covered in blueprints and designs. Heart beating, she unlatched the bag and quickly brought out the containers. Dee glanced at Boris, but he didn’t seem to notice the telltale square form in the fabric of her satchel. She shoved it to the side, underneath the table.
Yale smiled widely and grabbed the plastic case and observed it intently. “This is awesome!” he said. “I am just gonna stick this in the scanner.” He rushed over to the computer and opened its small receiving tray. Yale gently unhinged the plastic case, placed the small paper covered in green print inside the drawer, and then closed it. While Yale quickly typed a few command codes, Dee heard the familiar hum of the scanner. “You might want to come over here. It won’t take long for the computer to figure it out,” he explained.
Slowly, the computer revealed a scanned picture. The words were severely faded and Dee thought she could see a human face amongst the print.
Yale whistled. “This thing is seriously old, but I think the computer can reconstruct the language. Just one second…” His fingers flew across the keyboard. Thin black lines started to draw themselves across the paper on the screen, filling in the areas where the letters were gone. “Okay, finished! Let’s see what it says.” Continuing his rapid typing, Yale zoomed in on the words.
Dee squinted her eyes. Even with the computer’s help the words were still difficult to decipher. “I think it says… ‘In God We Trust’”
Boris widened his eyes. “God? Oh no…” He rushed back over to his desk across the room and rummaged through a stack of papers that rested on it.
Yale raised his eyebrows and glanced at Dee. Dee shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head. Yale cleared his throat. “What exactly is ‘oh no’?”
Boris paused in his searching and pulled out a long piece of parchment. His eyes scanned the page as he returned to Dee and Yale. “You know that list we received from headquarters?”
“You mean the ‘dangerous artifacts’ list?” asked Yale, making quotation marks in the air with his hands.
“Yes,” Boris said while still reading, “I know that name—‘God’—I think it’s on the list.”
“Really?” Yale asked.
“Here it is,” Boris said. “Any artifacts found imprinted with the name “God” on it or in it has to be burned, usually along with the building,” Boris sighed.
“Why?” Yale persisted.
Dee nodded in acknowledgment. “I remember this from the Academy. Everything on the dangerous artifacts list has to be burned, Yale.”
“I remember that. But how come anything with ‘God’ on it is banned? I mean, what’s so bad about a name?” Yale inquired.
Boris sighed, “’God’ was the Dictator of the old Society. Don’t you remember your History?”
Yale shook his head. “You know I don’t remember stuff I’m not interested in.”
Dee rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I remember it now, Boris. For years he governed a large portion of the old world. His was the only kingdom, though. The rest of the world was in chaos. He was a terribly selfish dictator—stamped his name on everything.”
Boris nodded. “Right. And he was a terrible leader. He destroyed any city or people that disobeyed his laws, even whole regions!”
Yale look shocked. “That’s horrible!”
Dee stared at him. “You seriously don’t remember any of this?”
Yale shook his head. “Nope!” Then he looked eagerly at Boris. “Then what?”
“Well,” Boris continued, “only those who swore allegiance to his kingdom were allowed to enter, the rest he left out in a desolate world to fend for themselves against bandits and enemies. Once in a while he would send out soldiers from his army to recruit his ‘citizens,’ but if they refused, the soldiers would kill them. Eventually the people outside of the kingdom formed a temporary truce to overthrow him. That day was the beginning of the Nation, and of true peace. The day they overthrew God.”
Yale blinked. “I still don’t get why the artifacts are dangerous. God is dead. And that was like a thousand years ago.”
“Two thousand,” Dee interjected.
Boris nodded. “Well, according to the history books Yale hasn’t read, as God drew his last breath he claimed he would never die. He vowed that the name of God would once again be known to the world, that his kingdom would rise again. The Nation fights to protect us from such terrible tyranny—which is why we have to destroy any artifacts we discover from the old kingdom.”
“Well, there’s not much chance of that,” said Yale. “I doubt anyone who’s not a Researcher has ever even heard the name of ‘God’.”
“Exactly,” Boris said. He walked over to his desk, accessing his computer.
“What are you doing now?” asked Dee, wonderingly.
“I have to send a message to Researcher White,” Boris explained. “She will decide if we burn the building or not. Sometimes we just burn the artifacts; I don’t know what she’ll do in this case.”
While Boris was recording his message, Yale picked up the wooden box and opened the lid. Gradually, he pulled more documents. “Dee, come look at this!”
Dee approached Yale looking at the image in his hands. It showed a crowd of people. They were all gathered on a sloping, grassy hill. Dee could see a majestic red terrace in the background. What struck Dee as most strange was their clothing. They all wore one or more colors in common: red, white, or blue. The colors were also spread on their faces, woven in their hair, or gleaming from the toys they held in their hands. And there was something else— they were smiling! All of them— children, women, and men— they looked happy.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing, Yale?” Dee asked.
“No, what?” Yale looked at her inquisitively.

“Well, look at them!” Dee said, exasperatingly. “They all seem so happy, so joyful, so… united.”
Yale shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
Dee sighed. “Well, I don’t think these would be the sort of people who are forced to live in a treacherous kingdom.”
Yale furrowed his brow. “I suppose…” He began sifting through the rest of the pictures. “But, what if this wasn’t during God’s dictatorship? What if it was after he was overthrown?”
“Well, what date were these taken?” Dee insisted.

“Hang on,” Yale said. He looked at the backs of all the images, then began searching the box, and then underneath it. “Ah! Found it.” He squinted his eyes. “It says… July… fourth… two-thousand one-hundred and forty-seven.”
Dee bit her lip. “I’m pretty sure that was during God’s reign.”
Boris stood up from his computer. “Sent it!”
Yale turned towards him. “Boris come here a minute,” he suggested.
“What is it?” Boris inquired as he walked over.
Yale explained. “Well, look at this paper image. The people look,” he glanced at Dee, “well, they look … happy—even though they’re covered in all that paint. They don’t exactly look like they’re suffering or about to be killed by God.”
Boris looked at the image. He checked the date, just like Yale had done. Then he sighed. “It’s probably just propaganda.” Boris scratched his neck.
Boris’s computer suddenly dinged and rushed over to it. “Researcher White says this building likely houses more dangerous artifacts. We need to incinerate it.”
Dee felt a lump form in her throat. “Burn all of that history?”
Boris shook his head. “Look, Dee, I know this is your first time in the field, but this is how the Nation keeps peace and harmony! Now, who’s going to go down to place the incineration bomb?”
“I want to do it!” Yale cried. “I’ve only gone twice before, since I’m a tech guy.”
Boris looked to Dee for confirmation. She hesitated. “Sorry, Yale, but I really want to do this one. Like Boris said, this is my first time.”
Boris nodded. “Looks like Dee’s going, Yale.”
“But that’s not fair!” Yale whined.
Boris just shook his head as he wandered over to the back room. After a few heartbeats he came back gently carrying the bomb, which was nestled inside a protective case. “Get in your suit, Dee.”
Dee hurried and zipped up her suit and placed the helmet on her head. Yale handed her the plastic case and the wooden box, and she laid them in her white sack. Boris attached the bomb to her suit. Dee marched up to the rope and latched herself on.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
Yale flipped a switch and she started down the rocky tunnel. This trip seemed a lot quicker than the last one.
Dee hesitated in front of the stone woman in the wall. She didn’t look sad, Dee thought, she looked disappointed. She lowered her eyes and continued into the building.
Dee replaced the artifacts, but as she brought out the thin blue book, she found herself hesitating. Could she really burn this up? For all she knew it could be a perfectly harmless book, without any dangerous information. After a split-second she put it back in her bag.
Once she set the bomb’s timer, she rushed back to the rope—not stopping to face the woman on the wall. Dee jerked the rope. “Ready to come back up,” she said.
When she returned, Boris looked relieved. Yale looked sulky. After a few minutes of conversation, Dee felt the rumble of the explosion— the museum had been destroyed. Guilt filled her heart, and the lump in her throat returned. She then told Boris and Yale to get a good night’s rest and wandered off to bed.
As the lights turned off, Dee turned on her flashlight, opened her sack, and slipped out the book. Flipping open to a random page, and holding her breath, she read what few words were still legible.

… all … created equal … endowed … Creator … unalienable Rights, … are Life—

She heard someone nearing her door. Quickly she dove underneath her covers, turning off the flashlight. The footsteps hesitated and then continued walking past her door. After several long minutes, when she was sure it was safe, she clicked her flashlight on again.

… are Life, Liberty, and … Happiness.


She closed the book and switched off the light. Dee’s mind raced with curiosity. Creator. Liberty. What did these words mean? Maybe it was some secret code that only the followers of God knew.
Happiness. Dee knew that word, at least. Just like those people in the picture, she yawned. As Dee drifted off to sleep, she wondered if the people in the picture were really propaganda or not. She wondered if she would ever figure out their secret code. One thing was certain: she wasn’t going to find out from Yale or Boris. Maybe she would discover clues somewhere in the Researcher archives. Or maybe they had finally destroyed all the books and papers and images with the name of God. Perhaps the only place she would ever find any answers was in her dreams.


The author's comments:
This is a dystopian short story I felt inspired to write.

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