Although both know it is forbidden, Amy and Axel hope that by following the countless ramps leading upward they can escape from their filthy subterranean world.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
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Book Description
Editorial Reviews
Review
"With detail and suspense the author tells an exciting futuristic survival story which comments on power and class-ridden social structures." -Horn Book
"The author's careful attention to detail and her astute sense of timing make this a highly believable, highly readable story that, while frighteningly powerful, ends on a comforting note." -Booklist
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
"The author's careful attention to detail and her astute sense of timing make this a highly believable, highly readable story that, while frighteningly powerful, ends on a comforting note." -Booklist
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
1
It was day 157, and it was raining. Or at least Amy hoped it was. She could hear liquid running down the outside of the opaque wall. Of course a pipe could have broken up-level. They often did. The city was old.
"What are you staring at?" whispered Anita, who sat next to her.
"Ita;s raining."
So?"
Amy shrugged, intimidated by the older girl's lack of interest. "I'd like to see rain sometime…just to see what it's like."
"Who cares?" said Anita, who had no idea what rain was.
"Me."
"That figures."
Triggered by their whispers, the nearest swung around and aimed in their direction. Its red light blinked a warning. The watcher had seen them talking.
"You will have two hours to complete this test," the computer whispered through its thousand tiny speakers. "Begin at the bell tone." The computer asked a question requiring a one-word answer. The student said the word and pressed the button for the next question. When the final question was answered, the student could either signal for review and hear the questions again, or shut the terminal off, thus recording the score. Technology had eliminated the desire.
Amy finished the test in twelve minutes. She made four deliberate errors. She did not signal completion but waited, head bent as if still working. She had learned it did not pay to attract attention.
The learning center in which she sat was the size of a football field, grimy yellow, low-ceilinged, windowless, and dimly lit. Around her sat a thousand students, ranging in age from ten to sixteen, each with an "A" name, each at a terminal unit precisely thirty-one inches from the next. The room smelled of unwashed bodies, stale food, and musty walls. Next door was learning center B, and next to that was C, and so on down the line, all the same.
Bored with hearing the same questions over again, Amy sat up and cautiously glanced around. She could see Anita's throat working as the girl struggled to verbalize thought. In front of Anita sat Axel, curled in his seat, hugging himself and rocking, his eyes glazed. If he could hear the computer's voice in his speaker he gave no sign of it; he never spoke; his hands never touched his terminal board.
Amy saw nothing wrong with his behavior. A lot of kids were like him. Sometimes she wished she could be like them, or like anyone but herself. At least they fit in. Anita found learning difficult. School absorbed her completely, instead of boring her as it did Amy. Axel could shut everything out from the moment he entered the learning center. Only the dismissal bell seemed to release him.
Amy was always aware of the boredom, of being shut in with the constant murmur of the instructor's voice in a thousand speakers, of the whispers and restless shifting of the students, and of the watcher's cameras. Sometimes she wondered what was wrong with her; no one else seemed to find fault with their life. Or if they did, they kept quiet about it. As she did. Maybe there were a lot of people like her, and she just never knew them. And maybe there weren't.
Propping her head on her left hand, she stared unseeingly at her screen while she passed the time daydreaming. Her favorite daydream was "going outside." She would imagine what it was like outside the city--a place with no walls and no ceilings, no hallways or ramps--maybe even no people--or less--
Halfway down the room she saw a boy get up and leave. A girl followed, then another boy. She waited for five more students to leave before shutting off her own terminal. Anita hissed, "Show-off," at her as she left. Axel stopped rocking and sat up.
In the control room the watcher frowned. By chance he had been watching Amy when she first looked up from her screen. Experience as well as instinct told him she had finished the test--which indicated too-quick comprehension.
He asked the computer for her life file: Age eleven, born on level nine, mother food prep tech, father unknown. No physical or mental dysfunctions. No record deviations. The only mark against the child was literacy. No record of who had taught her to read and write. Literacy was not an official crime, but it was an affectation of superiority which the government tried to discourage among the lower levels, since it often led to unacceptable behavior. He noted that corrective programming had brought her down to mid-normal and kept her there. Or had she kept herself there? That was a posibility; the too-bright could mimic normalcy.
The watcher weighted fact against instinct. Instinct won. He coded her file as that of potential troublemaker and returned to scanning in time to see Axel, the transfer from twelve, give his terminal a savage kick before running from the room. The exit camera saw Axel pause in the hall, looking for someone. In that unguarded moment the boy's expression changed from apathy to hope.
Perhaps the child was not going psycho but pretending? The watcher hesitated. In a job like this, one had to guard against paranoia. When these brats grew up and caused problems, the top levels could always say, "Why wasn't this spotted years ago?" and then his neck would be on the line. God, how he hated kids!
Axel caught up with Amy at the corner. An emergency car was coming, sirens screaming, the sound trapped and echoing against the low ceiling. Amy had stopped to put on her earguards. He touched her arm and, when she turned, smiled his sweet, sad smile. Then, as the noise got painfully loud, his eyes left hers and he seemed to retreat into himself. His lips began to move.
Thinking he was talking to her, she slid back an earguard and leaned closer; in the voice of a small child, he was singing a lullaby. "Rufus the Rabbit is going to sleep. Down in his burrow where silence is deep."
It was close and hot in the hall, but Amy shivered. She put her hands over his ears as tightly as she could and held them there until the siren was far down the hall.
It was hard to stand that way. The crowd was thick, and people jostled past the stationary little island formed by the pair. Some people bumped accidentally; others deliberately hit one child or the other and quickly disappeared in the crowd. Amy took blows for granted. She had been taught that people expressed their hostility or their need to touch in the hallways. It did not pay to stand still.
"Come on," she said, releasing him. "Let's go home." He didn't answer, but he had stopped singing, and his eyes focused again. She started across the corridor, and he followed.
"Why didn't you take the test?"
"Why should I?" he said. "That don't care what you know--so long as you don't cause problems."
Amy thought that over and decided there was some truth to it. Still, "If you don't answer some questions, even wrong, they notice you. And then you get special programming."
A nearby litter vac turned on just then, and the roar drowned her out. Loose garbage flew toward the suction screen, and Amy squinted against the dust. Axel's face went blank with the noise, and the corners of his mouth twitched.
"Why don't you wear your earguards?7r; she yelled over the roar.
"I don't have any."
She stared at him. "Why not?"
Two men brushed between them and nearly knocked them down. Neither pair looked at the other.
I don't know how to get them."
He was a little abnormal, she decided. Everyone knew how to get necessities. "You take your ID card to the depot, stand in line, put your card in the slot, tell the machine you want ear guards, and the ear guards come down the chute."
Axel looked at her for a moment and then at the pavement. The floor was cracked and rough here; litter had collected in the cracks, and he stepped over them with exaggerated care. But he didn't say anything.
The heavy scent of a fry shop filled the corridor, and Amy was distracted by her stomach's growl. She didn't really like deep-fried vegetable peelings, but they were hot and salty. Sometimes they were even crisp. And when she was hungry, she wished she could afford them. But it didn't pay to think about what you couldn't have.
"Do you have an ID card?"
Axel nodded. He looked scared.
He stopped walking and leaned against the wall. Amy hesitated before turning back to join him. "What's wrong?"
He didn't answer. After a few seconds she was tired of being jostled while she stood still.
"You're going to get your back all greasy from that filthy wall," she warned him. "Also roaches on you."
He jumped as if he had received an electric shock, turned and stared at the wall. It was sticky with years of grime. At least a dozen roaches clung there, antennae quivering as they fed. More were on the pavement.
"How do you live this way?" his voice was almost a whisper, and she had to ask him to repeat the question. "How can people stand it?" He looked as if he were going to be sick. "The noise and crowds and dirt--it's all dark and dirty!"
"It's like that everywhere," Amy said, puzzled, "everywhere I've ever been. Is it different on level twelve wasn't that far up--maybe she could go visit him.
"It's just as bad. Worse where I sleep."
Hope flickered out. "so why did you ask?"
"Because it's--" He cast a worried glance at the wall. "Can we talk while we walk?"
"Do you want to go get ear guards or not?"
"Yes. If you come with me."
"You do have your ID?"
"Yes."
"Come on then. The nearest depot's down this block."
The supply depot was crowded with long lines at every chute. Axel no more than stepped inside than he wanted out.
"We'll be here a long time," he said, edging toward the door. She grabbed him by the arm and saw his eyes were beginning to go blank. He was about to shut everything out. Her first impulse was to leave him there; then she remembered him singing when the siren went by.
She took his hand and held it. "I hate crowds, too," she said. "But we can stand it for as long as it takes."
"I'm O.K." he pulled free, then looked at her. "No, I'm not," he admitted and took her hand again. "Talk to me . It's easier if I don't have to think about where I am."
Amy didn't understand that remark but did a...
It was day 157, and it was raining. Or at least Amy hoped it was. She could hear liquid running down the outside of the opaque wall. Of course a pipe could have broken up-level. They often did. The city was old.
"What are you staring at?" whispered Anita, who sat next to her.
"Ita;s raining."
So?"
Amy shrugged, intimidated by the older girl's lack of interest. "I'd like to see rain sometime…just to see what it's like."
"Who cares?" said Anita, who had no idea what rain was.
"Me."
"That figures."
Triggered by their whispers, the nearest swung around and aimed in their direction. Its red light blinked a warning. The watcher had seen them talking.
"You will have two hours to complete this test," the computer whispered through its thousand tiny speakers. "Begin at the bell tone." The computer asked a question requiring a one-word answer. The student said the word and pressed the button for the next question. When the final question was answered, the student could either signal for review and hear the questions again, or shut the terminal off, thus recording the score. Technology had eliminated the desire.
Amy finished the test in twelve minutes. She made four deliberate errors. She did not signal completion but waited, head bent as if still working. She had learned it did not pay to attract attention.
The learning center in which she sat was the size of a football field, grimy yellow, low-ceilinged, windowless, and dimly lit. Around her sat a thousand students, ranging in age from ten to sixteen, each with an "A" name, each at a terminal unit precisely thirty-one inches from the next. The room smelled of unwashed bodies, stale food, and musty walls. Next door was learning center B, and next to that was C, and so on down the line, all the same.
Bored with hearing the same questions over again, Amy sat up and cautiously glanced around. She could see Anita's throat working as the girl struggled to verbalize thought. In front of Anita sat Axel, curled in his seat, hugging himself and rocking, his eyes glazed. If he could hear the computer's voice in his speaker he gave no sign of it; he never spoke; his hands never touched his terminal board.
Amy saw nothing wrong with his behavior. A lot of kids were like him. Sometimes she wished she could be like them, or like anyone but herself. At least they fit in. Anita found learning difficult. School absorbed her completely, instead of boring her as it did Amy. Axel could shut everything out from the moment he entered the learning center. Only the dismissal bell seemed to release him.
Amy was always aware of the boredom, of being shut in with the constant murmur of the instructor's voice in a thousand speakers, of the whispers and restless shifting of the students, and of the watcher's cameras. Sometimes she wondered what was wrong with her; no one else seemed to find fault with their life. Or if they did, they kept quiet about it. As she did. Maybe there were a lot of people like her, and she just never knew them. And maybe there weren't.
Propping her head on her left hand, she stared unseeingly at her screen while she passed the time daydreaming. Her favorite daydream was "going outside." She would imagine what it was like outside the city--a place with no walls and no ceilings, no hallways or ramps--maybe even no people--or less--
Halfway down the room she saw a boy get up and leave. A girl followed, then another boy. She waited for five more students to leave before shutting off her own terminal. Anita hissed, "Show-off," at her as she left. Axel stopped rocking and sat up.
In the control room the watcher frowned. By chance he had been watching Amy when she first looked up from her screen. Experience as well as instinct told him she had finished the test--which indicated too-quick comprehension.
He asked the computer for her life file: Age eleven, born on level nine, mother food prep tech, father unknown. No physical or mental dysfunctions. No record deviations. The only mark against the child was literacy. No record of who had taught her to read and write. Literacy was not an official crime, but it was an affectation of superiority which the government tried to discourage among the lower levels, since it often led to unacceptable behavior. He noted that corrective programming had brought her down to mid-normal and kept her there. Or had she kept herself there? That was a posibility; the too-bright could mimic normalcy.
The watcher weighted fact against instinct. Instinct won. He coded her file as that of potential troublemaker and returned to scanning in time to see Axel, the transfer from twelve, give his terminal a savage kick before running from the room. The exit camera saw Axel pause in the hall, looking for someone. In that unguarded moment the boy's expression changed from apathy to hope.
Perhaps the child was not going psycho but pretending? The watcher hesitated. In a job like this, one had to guard against paranoia. When these brats grew up and caused problems, the top levels could always say, "Why wasn't this spotted years ago?" and then his neck would be on the line. God, how he hated kids!
Axel caught up with Amy at the corner. An emergency car was coming, sirens screaming, the sound trapped and echoing against the low ceiling. Amy had stopped to put on her earguards. He touched her arm and, when she turned, smiled his sweet, sad smile. Then, as the noise got painfully loud, his eyes left hers and he seemed to retreat into himself. His lips began to move.
Thinking he was talking to her, she slid back an earguard and leaned closer; in the voice of a small child, he was singing a lullaby. "Rufus the Rabbit is going to sleep. Down in his burrow where silence is deep."
It was close and hot in the hall, but Amy shivered. She put her hands over his ears as tightly as she could and held them there until the siren was far down the hall.
It was hard to stand that way. The crowd was thick, and people jostled past the stationary little island formed by the pair. Some people bumped accidentally; others deliberately hit one child or the other and quickly disappeared in the crowd. Amy took blows for granted. She had been taught that people expressed their hostility or their need to touch in the hallways. It did not pay to stand still.
"Come on," she said, releasing him. "Let's go home." He didn't answer, but he had stopped singing, and his eyes focused again. She started across the corridor, and he followed.
"Why didn't you take the test?"
"Why should I?" he said. "That don't care what you know--so long as you don't cause problems."
Amy thought that over and decided there was some truth to it. Still, "If you don't answer some questions, even wrong, they notice you. And then you get special programming."
A nearby litter vac turned on just then, and the roar drowned her out. Loose garbage flew toward the suction screen, and Amy squinted against the dust. Axel's face went blank with the noise, and the corners of his mouth twitched.
"Why don't you wear your earguards?7r; she yelled over the roar.
"I don't have any."
She stared at him. "Why not?"
Two men brushed between them and nearly knocked them down. Neither pair looked at the other.
I don't know how to get them."
He was a little abnormal, she decided. Everyone knew how to get necessities. "You take your ID card to the depot, stand in line, put your card in the slot, tell the machine you want ear guards, and the ear guards come down the chute."
Axel looked at her for a moment and then at the pavement. The floor was cracked and rough here; litter had collected in the cracks, and he stepped over them with exaggerated care. But he didn't say anything.
The heavy scent of a fry shop filled the corridor, and Amy was distracted by her stomach's growl. She didn't really like deep-fried vegetable peelings, but they were hot and salty. Sometimes they were even crisp. And when she was hungry, she wished she could afford them. But it didn't pay to think about what you couldn't have.
"Do you have an ID card?"
Axel nodded. He looked scared.
He stopped walking and leaned against the wall. Amy hesitated before turning back to join him. "What's wrong?"
He didn't answer. After a few seconds she was tired of being jostled while she stood still.
"You're going to get your back all greasy from that filthy wall," she warned him. "Also roaches on you."
He jumped as if he had received an electric shock, turned and stared at the wall. It was sticky with years of grime. At least a dozen roaches clung there, antennae quivering as they fed. More were on the pavement.
"How do you live this way?" his voice was almost a whisper, and she had to ask him to repeat the question. "How can people stand it?" He looked as if he were going to be sick. "The noise and crowds and dirt--it's all dark and dirty!"
"It's like that everywhere," Amy said, puzzled, "everywhere I've ever been. Is it different on level twelve wasn't that far up--maybe she could go visit him.
"It's just as bad. Worse where I sleep."
Hope flickered out. "so why did you ask?"
"Because it's--" He cast a worried glance at the wall. "Can we talk while we walk?"
"Do you want to go get ear guards or not?"
"Yes. If you come with me."
"You do have your ID?"
"Yes."
"Come on then. The nearest depot's down this block."
The supply depot was crowded with long lines at every chute. Axel no more than stepped inside than he wanted out.
"We'll be here a long time," he said, edging toward the door. She grabbed him by the arm and saw his eyes were beginning to go blank. He was about to shut everything out. Her first impulse was to leave him there; then she remembered him singing when the siren went by.
She took his hand and held it. "I hate crowds, too," she said. "But we can stand it for as long as it takes."
"I'm O.K." he pulled free, then looked at her. "No, I'm not," he admitted and took her hand again. "Talk to me . It's easier if I don't have to think about where I am."
Amy didn't understand that remark but did a...
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14 of 14 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Tales from the Underground!,
By
This review is from: This Time of Darkness (Mass Market Paperback)
In a far-flung future, the people are told the air above is too polluted to breathe-there is nothing left on the surface anymore. All that exists is the crowded underground city. Eleven-year-old Amy has always been the curious sort, but she has learned to hide her curiosity-and the fact she can read-from the adults who watch her. Until a strange boy tumbles into her world, claiming he is from the outside-and together the two of them must uncover old secrets and new worlds.This is a rollicking preteen SF tale by H.M. Hoover that I found back in the eighties and was one of my favorites. Though this was originally published in the eighties, Hoover's ability to conjure up a another kind of world, to tell the kind of stories that speak to the reader and spark their imagination still shines through-so it's unsurprising that so many of her books are being reprinted for a new generation of young readers to discover and enjoy. Hoover herself confesses in her bio that she wrote the kind of stories she enjoyed reading as a child-what better way to capture an audience? THIS TIME OF DARKNESS encapsulates the idea of a strange, oppressive future society with appealing preteen protagonists. Readers journey with them as the discover the way out of the darkness, but will the watchers allow them to find freedom and hope in the world? Many will want to pick this book up out of nostalgia-having read this when they were kids-to revisit the story they remember, and maybe to share with their children who are just encountering science fiction for the first time. This story is perfectly tailored to its audience, and while some of the future technology may feel a little dated since publication, the overall themes hold up well, and deliver their message of hope and perseverance admirably. If you are encountering Hoover for the first time, look for some of her other SF classics, like THE WINDS OF MARS, ORVIS, or my favorite, THE LOST STAR. For books in a similar vein, you might also check out THE CITY OF EMBER by Jean Duprau and DEVIL ON MY BACK by Monica Hughes. Happy Reading! ^_^ Shanshad
7 of 7 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Slightly Eerie - But An Excellent Futuristic Story,
A Kid's Review
This review is from: This Time of Darkness (Mass Market Paperback)
This is one of those stories that makes you think, "What if? If this world were REAL, would I be like a mindless, robotic moron?". I, for one, enjoyed this story of a futuristic, overpowered government of "authorities" that tries to control the citizens' knowledge. The main characters of the book, Amy and Axel, have dared to defy the somewhat ridiculous stipulations of the seemingly omniscient, omnipotent "authorities".Sypnosis: (I might give too much of the plot away! Sorry!) Ten-year-old Amy lives in a large underground city. (But, believe me, she has no idea that it is underground.) (PLEASE DON'T READ ON IF YOU DON'T WANT THE ENDING SPOILED, because I'll just tell you.) In the end, we get a very vague glimpse of the "Outside" town of Mercer, but enough to know that it was completely strange to Amy, as she learns new things that astound her. As one reads this story, they wonder exactly how possible the whole thing is. It's eerie, even scary, when you really stop to think about it. It is science fiction with a slightly apocalyptic theme. This is one of the best science fiction books I have read in a long time. The plot is mysterious from the start, but it really grabs you. This story is a wonderful read for adults as well as children. Don't let the fact that it was written more than twenty years ago scare you away from it. It is not filled with all the technological advances you would expect from science fiction, but it is definitely worth the read for the gripping plot alone.
7 of 7 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
All time favorite,
By A Customer
This review is from: This Time of Darkness (Hardcover)
I first read this book when I was 10 years old (some 16 years ago) and still count it as one of my all time favorites. A grot plot, complete with conspiracies, pre-adolescent sexual tensions, issues with authority, and political mystery make this an excellent semi-sci-fi thriller for any age. A reprint is a moral imperative.
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First Sentence:
It was day 157, and it was raining. Read the first page Key Phrases - Statistically Improbable Phrases (SIPs): (learn more)
level eighty, glass tunnel New!
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Front Cover | First Pages | Back Cover | Surprise Me!
It was day 157, and it was raining. Read the first page Key Phrases - Statistically Improbable Phrases (SIPs): (learn more)
level eighty, glass tunnel New!
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Front Cover | First Pages | Back Cover | Surprise Me!
Citations (learn more)
This book cites 17
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29
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- Another Heaven, Another Earth by H. M. Hoover in Front Matter, and Back Matter
- The Cockatrice Boys by Joan Aiken in Front Matter, and Back Matter
- The Whispering Mountain by Joan Aiken in Front Matter, and Back Matter
- A College of Magics by Caroline Stevermer in Front Matter, and Back Matter
- Prince Ombra by Roderick MacLeish in Front Matter, and Back Matter
See all 17 books this book cites
- Orvis by H. M. Hoover in Front Matter, and Back Matter
- Faragon Fairingay: The Circle of Light, Book 2 by Niel Hancock in Front Matter, and Back Matter
- Science Fiction for Young Readers: (Contributions to the Study of Science Fiction and Fantasy) by C.W. Sullivan on page 123, and page 131
- Among the Dolls by William Sleator in Front Matter
- A Perilous Power by E. Rose Sabin in Front Matter
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