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The Instruction
When the city ofEmber was just built and not yet inhabited, the chief builder and the assistantbuilder, both of them weary, sat down to speak of the future.
“They must notleave the city for at least two hundred years," said the chief builder."Or perhaps two hundred and twenty.”
“Is that longenough?” asked his assistant.
“It should be.We can*t know for sure.”
“And when thetime comes,” said the assistant, "how will they know what to do?"
"We*llprovide them with instructions, of course," the chief builder replied.
"But whowill keep the instructions? Who can we trust to keep them safe and secret allthat time?"
"The mayorof the city will keep the instructions," said the chief builder."We*ll put them in a box with a timed lock, set to open on the properdate."
“And will wetell the mayor what*s in the box?” the assistant asked.
“No, just thatit*s information they won*t need must not see until the box opens of its ownaccord.
"So thefirst mayor will pass the box to the next mayor, and that one to the next, andown through the years, all of them keeping it secret, all that time?"
"What elsecan we do?" asked the chief builder. "Nothing about this endeavor iscertain. There may be no one left in the city by then or no safe place forthen, to come back to."
So the firstmayor of Ember was given the box, told to guard it carefully, and solemnlysworn to secrecy. When she grew old, and her time as mayor was up, sheexplained about the box to her successor, who also kept the secret carefully,as did the next mayor. Things went as planned for many years. But the seventhmayor of Ember was less honorable than the ones who*d come before him, and moredesperate. He was ill—he had the coughing sickness that was common in the citythen—and he thought the box might hold a secret that would save his life. Hetook it from its hiding place in the basement of the Gathering Hall and broughtit home with him, where he attacked it with a hammer.
But his strengthwas failing by then. All he managed to do was dent the lid a little. And beforehe could return the box to its official hiding place or tell his successorabout it, he died. The box ended up at the back of a closet, shoved behind someold bags and bundles. There it sat, unnoticed, year after year, until its timearrived, and the lock quietly clicked open.
When the city ofEmber was just built and not yet inhabited, the chief builder and the assistantbuilder, both of them weary, sat down to speak of the future.
“They must notleave the city for at least two hundred years," said the chief builder."Or perhaps two hundred and twenty.”
“Is that longenough?” asked his assistant.
“It should be.We can*t know for sure.”
“And when thetime comes,” said the assistant, "how will they know what to do?"
"We*llprovide them with instructions, of course," the chief builder replied.
"But whowill keep the instructions? Who can we trust to keep them safe and secret allthat time?"
"The mayorof the city will keep the instructions," said the chief builder."We*ll put them in a box with a timed lock, set to open on the properdate."
“And will wetell the mayor what*s in the box?” the assistant asked.
“No, just thatit*s information they won*t need must not see until the box opens of its ownaccord.
"So thefirst mayor will pass the box to the next mayor, and that one to the next, andown through the years, all of them keeping it secret, all that time?"
"What elsecan we do?" asked the chief builder. "Nothing about this endeavor iscertain. There may be no one left in the city by then or no safe place forthen, to come back to."
So the firstmayor of Ember was given the box, told to guard it carefully, and solemnlysworn to secrecy. When she grew old, and her time as mayor was up, sheexplained about the box to her successor, who also kept the secret carefully,as did the next mayor. Things went as planned for many years. But the seventhmayor of Ember was less honorable than the ones who*d come before him, and moredesperate. He was ill—he had the coughing sickness that was common in the citythen—and he thought the box might hold a secret that would save his life. Hetook it from its hiding place in the basement of the Gathering Hall and broughtit home with him, where he attacked it with a hammer.
But his strengthwas failing by then. All he managed to do was dent the lid a little. And beforehe could return the box to its official hiding place or tell his successorabout it, he died. The box ended up at the back of a closet, shoved behind someold bags and bundles. There it sat, unnoticed, year after year, until its timearrived, and the lock quietly clicked open.
