When Man-Made
By: K.E. Rodgers
****
A Smashwords Edition
Published By:
K.E. Rodgers on Smashwords
Copyright © 2010
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is coincidental and should be seen as such.
Location: Earth – North Western Quadrant
City: Blockdown Dome – Pop: 3,457, 823. 341
Somewhere within the dome…
Chapter 1-
My grandmother told me the thing she missed the most was the smell of the grass; the sound of the breeze running over it, the way it looked, the way it felt. I didn’t understand what she meant by this. Did we not have grass growing outside on our lawn? My mother had it brought in from the Generation plant where it was made and laid out in long sheets in front of our home. It was bright and springy, soft and cool on my bare feet. Many afternoons, I would just lie out on it, staring up and far away at the sky above.
My Nani said it was not the same. Sure it was pretty, almost flawless in its perfection. Every blade created from the finest materials of bio-engineering, put together by the best visionaries in our city. But it was not the same. It was not real. I didn’t understand.
I told her it sure looked real to me. It even felt real. How could this bed of soft earth not be real? How could this layer of organic fibers not be real? I wanted to know what this real grass looked like and why my grass couldn’t measure up to its standards.
“You will never find out,” my grandmother explained, a sad note hidden in her voice. “There is no real grass, not anymore. Some things are just beyond our range of knowing, no matter how much we would wish otherwise.”
She steadily lowered herself onto the lawn beside me. She was old, nearly sixty years. I never wanted to get that old. And I told my eleven year old self that I never would.
“They could make it better,” I said. By, they, I meant the skilled scientists and engineers of our city. I believed they were like miracle workers. “If they wanted to, they could make this grass look just like the old one. I bet they could even make it smell like your grass.”
I was very enthusiastic at that age. And at the time, I truly believed that our brightest visionaries could do practically anything. I believed that their range of knowing surpassed any humans before us. They had created our world through their knowledge of molecular science, chemistry, and the physiology of the natural world. Through them we could have a world that we had thought lost to us. We could make it better.
I was not yet born when the sun burned hot in the sky, when the land beneath my people’s feet trembled and rocked, when the sky turned black and many of the animals died. I could not understand why my Nani would miss a simple thing as grass, not when all I knew of this world existed inside our cities walls. I did not know this real grass and I did not miss it. You cannot miss what you never had. That was what I believed.
“Don’t you like our grass, Nani?” I asked, flopping back and spreading my arms above my head. “Mom bought it especially for you, so you could play that game. The one you said you played when you were my age.” I turned my head to the side to look at her. “What was it called again?”
Nani lay back on the soft lawn next to me, settling her hands over her stomach. “Bocce ball," she said, "It was like bowling only outside and on the grass.” She smiled to herself as she looked up to the domed sky. Only if you looked closely through the clouds and light, could you see where our city ended. Beyond that dome lay the unknown.
Nani was smiling because she was reminiscing. It is a word that grown-up’s use when they want to reflect upon the past; a time when things were good or better than they are now. They can remember a time when they were happy and maybe in remembering it will make them happy now.
“I like your mother’s grass, Lora, very much. It was sweet of her to think of it. There are not too many families that are as fortunate as we are to have someone so smart and capable of reproducing the natural world.” Nani brushed her aged fingers over the tips of the grass blades.
My mother was one of the renowned visionaries who were responsible for recreating a natural world within our city. They made more than grass; they made our world. Every wisp of cloud over our head, the light that shined down on us, the rain that dampened our land, the snow that I made snow men with; they made it all. As I said, I believed that they were miracle workers and in some respects they were. I believed nothing was beyond their grasp to create.
I watched my Nani as she touched our new grass my mother had installed for her on our lawn. I studied her as she studied the grass. And what I saw confused me even more.
I think my mother had hoped that seeing this carpet of green fibers would somehow make my Nani happy. Why then did she look so sad? I cannot stand to see grown-ups cry. They are not allowed to cry. If something is powerful enough to make one of them cry it must be something inconceivably terrible.
Nani didn’t cry, but she looked as if she was likely to start anytime soon. I have never seen her cry, except when my father died. But I’m not sure. It was likely that she could have cried and I had not been there to see it. It was only at my father’s funeral that she had cried openly in front of me. Her face had made such grotesque contortions. I thought it would break or at least crack down the middle, leaving an empty hole where her nose should have been.
My child’s brain didn’t yet know how to comfort, especially someone who I believed was meant to soothe me, to wipe my tears and tell me all would be right. I could not do the same for her, though some part of me wanted to.
“Nani,” I whispered.
She blinked at me as if only now remembering I was lying next to her. For a moment her eyes had focused far away, to something or some place I could not see. Then she adjusted her focus back on my face. Brushing a strand of hair away from my eyes, she pressed her index finger lightly against my nose.
“Yes, sweet pea?” she answered in a soft tone. Sometimes she said funny words like that. Sweet pea. What was that?
“I’m going to find you real grass. I promise.” I spoke with such confidence.
At the time I thought that I could find my Nani anything. That if I wanted it enough, it would not be a difficult task to accomplish.
In my childhood exuberance, I took the utterance of such a promise lightly. It wasn’t that I had lied to her. I just didn’t fully comprehend the near impossibility of such a promise. Maybe I thought it was enough that I offered to look for this real grass. I likely would have promised to get her anything her heart desired to make her happy. You want the moon, the sun, and the stars? I will get them. I will get them for you Nani.
She didn’t speak.
We stared at one another and I watched as a tear slipped freely down her cheek. But she didn’t look sad anymore and I was glad that my foolish promise had made it so.
My Nani would never smell real grass, or feel it between her naked fingers, hear it rustle under her feet as she moved through it. We would spend many more afternoons lying on my mother’s grass outside our home, but we would never talk about that promise I made so many lifetimes ago. Perhaps she had been right all along, that there was no such thing as real grass. Not anymore.
From time to time I would think about that promise and how naïve I had been at that age.
Children have such foolish notions about the world.
Later I would take those words back. And I would rethink my rash promise with a grown woman’s perspective. I would prove Nani wrong, just as she hoped I would.
Chapter 2-
I usually dreamt about the sea. The way my Nani described it, it was large and rolling, a never ending and vast stretch of water that surround our entire planet. At the time, I couldn’t imagine such a large body of water existing in our world. To someone who has never seen the ocean, the idea of these organic molecules on an immeasurable scale of quantity, layers upon layers of the stuff, running so deep that it required the use of kilometers to understand its depth, was difficult to actually imagine. We have bodies of water, small but substantial enough that they meet our requirements for life. We are creatures who cannot survive without water. And the knowledge that at one time there was enough water to fill an entire planet was absolutely mind boggling. This body of water called the sea, I wanted to see it, smell it, and feel it as it swept about my body as I played in the surf.
My Nani had a beautiful way with words and she was able to describe what this wonderful substance was like to actually experience. Through her words I could imagine myself as a mythical sea siren, spending all day glorying in the salty and tangy essence of an old world, sea and sand, and pretty shells I could pick and collect. My Nani said that was what people did when they went to the beach, the land that is attached and connected to the sea. The land actually runs underneath the sea, but we cannot see it. Only with special equipment and even then there were still places too far out of reach for our investigation.
I wanted to collect pretty shells, perhaps make something from them. In the old days people would use the gifts of the sea to make jewelry or eat the plant and creatures that lived under its depths. They did not have horticultural farms, aquiculture and mariculture developments, at least they did not depend on these techniques to sustain most of their needs. It seemed a barbaric time, one that we should be glad we have escaped. But there is always that romantic perspective of the past that challenges us to wonder if their existence would have been preferable to our own. Were these ancients as clever as we are; more than we gave them credit? Their simple existence laid the foundation for what we have in our existence today.
Yes, it is likely that they could have only speculated at what the future world reap, far flung fantasies of advances in technology that in their time would be called science fiction. Such limited standards.
In my world we could have almost anything we wanted at our disposal. Nothing was beyond the reach of our visionaries, if we could dream it, we could make it real.
When I was young I didn’t know that there was a dissention between my world and the world beyond. For me, no such place existed. I could not see beyond the walls of my city. Therefore if I could not see it, it was not real, it did not exist.
I didn’t know that there was a difference between the makings of things. That there were two classes of creation. A world created by man and one created by something else. That something else I do not know, nor could I put a name on this faceless figure of creation. I understand the first. As we attain knowledge, the more we can create and shape the world around us. Learning is a valued commodity in my world, specifically in the areas that help to promote progress in developing a more sentient environment like we once had. We valued life, not just for ourselves, but the land around us. We, with our vast knowledge could create life. But it took a great deal of energy, both mental and physical. And that brings me to this second creator.
Outside those city walls, lies a land not created by my people; one that for some reason existed without our help or interference. It was there long before we could even fathom the possibility to create. And it could make things beyond our grasp, at the time. But we persevered, we accumulated more and more knowledge, studying the results of this maker until we could duplicate what it was able to make so easily. That was something else I didn’t understand. This other creator of life made such things without the tools and accumulated knowledge of man. It simply made, without thought or reason. And it was even speculated by some, those whose voices were quickly suppressed by the masses, that even we were once a creation of this other maker. I didn’t consign myself with these free thinkers, at least not at first. My world was man-made, myself included. We were not the property of this old creator, it and the world it had created no longer existed. Or so I was led to believe.
Which brings me back to my dreams of the sea; a creation not made by my people. We could create a semblance of a sea-like structure, but it was somehow not the same. The waves were generated through machine, the molecules constructed through our advancements in bio-engineering. It was beautiful, it was flawless, and it was ours. It should have been enough, but it wasn’t.
I dreamed of this imaginary sea, like my Nani dreamed about her grass. They were simple concepts of creating, yet somehow beyond our grasp of understanding. What was it about that other creator that it could make a world that we could only partially duplicate? As much as I would like to disbelieve this theory, maybe there were some things that were just beyond our range of knowing. But such a thought was unappreciated by notable figures in my world. They would never accept that some things were beyond their means to attain or control.
Why would I dream of my Nani’s fantasy stories? Of a world that existed without my people? Was it possible that this world still existed beyond our city borders? And if it did, could and should we go out and explore it? Would it not be for the benefit of all of us to go out into this unknown world and find out? If we should say that we live off of the accumulation of knowledge and learning, then we should not be afraid of what lies beyond our limited range of knowing.
No one ventured beyond our city. And no one ever came through the heavy cement and steel doors.
Why have doors, if not to use them?
Many years had passed since the first citizens of my city closed themselves within our walls. Even then, they must have hoped that one day they would leave this man-made world and venture out into that old world. They would not have placed doors to the outside if they wanted our people to stay inside forever.
11 years later…present day, inside the dome.
Chapter 3-
“Where is my tea?” bellowed the brick wall of a man as he stood just off to the side of his desk, hands fasted to his sides, glaring impatiently at me as I entered his office.
He had been blowing hot air since I had rounded the corner at the far end of the hallway which led to his office. That was when I heard him rant and rave. Not just about the tea, but every other bothersome issue that kept him from living a life of ease. I had been on one of the floors below us, seven floors below us to be exact. And who knows? He could have been going on like this since I’d left him, several minutes earlier. His face certainly hinted at that theory, all blotchy and the skin stretched so tight on his bones. It was a question of which would give in first, the skin or the bones?
Mr. Rockthorn was an attractive and dignified man under normal circumstances. Today apparently didn’t qualify as normal. If I hadn’t known this man for the past several months, during which I’ve been his intern. I might have been frightened of his loud tirade. Some of which was directed at me. Though I don’t think my speed, or lack of it, at bringing him his hot beverage was the catalyst to today’s dramatics.
I should be pleased that I’m even allowed such an honor as to being appointed this man’s right hand. Well, that’s what I thought this position called for me to be. I wasn’t his right hand. I wasn’t even his right foot. Maybe on my best day, I was that fourth toe, the one next to the almost obsolete pinkie toe. Not as expendable as the toe next to me, but close enough. The only talent that made me relevant at all in Mr. Rockthorn’s world was that I was the bearer of fresh hot tea.
“I have your tea right here. It’s not your usual, but they were out of the packets. So I made you one of the organic teas.”
I walked over to his desk, the tray of tea and snacks arranged in a perfect pattern. My heels didn’t make a sound as I tried to glide across the floor. Tried, is the emphasized word here. I’ve only recently begun wearing them as part of my grown-up look which I felt complemented my grown-up job.
I set down the tray on the far left corner of his desk. He glared down at it as if what he saw was a pile of garbage scrapes lined artfully on a tray. He could not have looked more uninterested in consuming anything on that tray.
I’d like to think that under different circumstances I would have liked Mr. Rockthorn. He was after all the Grande Regent of our community, the highest level of influence and success anyone could hope to acquire. He was once a great visionary, working side by side with my own mother as they improved our lives with their endeavors. Then the previous Grande Regent, Ms. Trent, had unexpectedly resigned, leaving the position open to quickly be filled by Mr. Rockthorn. Under other circumstances I would have looked up to him, maybe even shaped my life after his. He was an influential man, a talented visionary. If I didn’t see him as I do now, I think I would have been led to believe that he was the epitome of humanity.
Right now I was seriously on the verge of hating him.
“You know I can’t stand that organic garbage.” He continued grumbling, taking his seat behind his oversized desk. “It tastes like dirt diluted with warm water. I want the packets,” he demanded.
I tried to be diplomatic. He was my boss after all, and someone I should respect. Unfortunately, that required a conscious effort on my part.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I was not sorry. “The next shipment won’t be here until this afternoon. I’ll make you another cup of tea then. But for right now, this is all we have.”
I took the cup and saucer into my hands, holding them out like an offering, a smile plastered unevenly on my face. Presenting it to him, I continued. “It’s good. You should at least try some”. I actually preferred the organic to the packets. At first it did taste a little odd, but after awhile I found I preferred it over the other.
“It’s barbaric,” he shouted at me, “Disgusting muck only fit for animals to consume. I’ll not put that vile stuff in my body.”
But he was more than willing to put other vile things in his body. The man was so pumped up on drugs and every legal medication available. I wondered if there was any part of his system untainted. His blood and body, so polluted by our modern conveniences, very little of his person was not synthetic.
There might have been a time when I would have thought just like Mr. Rockthorn. And maybe without my Nani’s influence I would have. It was a strange double consciousness that made me feel torn between two worlds. Though I appreciated the accomplishments of my people, I questioned our disregard for the other creator’s accomplishments. In our ongoing pursuit, we stamped out any need for the other and its works.
But the old world had let us down, so many years ago. And the world that man-made was forced to rise up so we could survive. The other creator and its world could not be trusted or controlled. It was said to have been dangerous and unpredictable. In our world there was nothing we could not control. And it comforted us and kept us within our own walls.
“Is there anything else I can get for you then?” I placed the cup and saucer back on the tray. I would drink it later, on my own time so as not to waste it.
Whatever words Mr. Rockthorn was about to say, died before they ever left his mouth.
Zeke, one of the officers several levels in status bellow Mr. Rockthorn, stumbled unannounced through Mr. Rockthorn’s door, falling all over himself in his haste. His gangly body was still ripening into manhood. Yet there was an aura of authority that made him seem older, more mature than I even though we were the same age.
“What is it now? You know I’ve had it up to here with complaints today,” he groused at the young man as he floundered across the office floor toward us.
Me too, I whispered inside my head.
“Mr. Rockthorn, you need to come see this.” He sounded out of breath, overwrought by some situation as he came to stand over Mr. Rockthorn’s desk. Pressing his hands on the top of the desk he continued. “They’re bringing him through the gates as we speak. You need to come down to the Medical Ward and tell us what you want to do with this man.”
Mr. Rockthorn stared hard at Zeke, stretching his own hands across his oversized office desk. “Are you telling me someone was able to exit our borders?”
Zeke shook his head hard. I thought his brains might pop out of his ears. “No!” he shouted. Then looked shamed as he realized he was speaking to our Grande Regent. I would never have been so bold as to raise my voice, especially not to Mr. Rockthorn. But Zeke was obviously running on nervous energy, his brain cells so shot he wasn’t thinking clearly.
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Zeke paused. Maybe to take a much need breath or he liked to play the dramatics, “They found someone on the outside. He’s not one of us. He came from out there.” Zeke emphasized the words out there, knowing that we all understood what those words meant; beyond our borders. “We don’t know anything about him except that he was found injured near the northern wall. They’re bringing him to the Medical Ward for testing to see if we can find anything on his origins.”
“Who authorized his clearance through the gates?” Mr. Rockthorn spoke through thin, tight lips. “As you said, we know nothing about this man. He could endanger us all. Who let him through?”
“I did,” Zeke answered, not appearing to be wary of admitting such a breach in policy. “He was injured, sir. Would you have rather I left him out there to die?”
I saw on Mr. Rockthorn’s face the answer. Yes. He was not one of us so it would be easy to put distance and apathy between this unknown man and ourselves. I didn’t think I could have been so cold. But Mr. Rockthorn’s job required that he make tough decisions. It was for the community, not the individual.
“It’s too late now. Again, as you’ve said, he is on his way to the Medical Ward. But he is to be watched carefully. I will not allow this unknown man to risk the safety of our people. Do not look upon him as an injured man, but as a potential threat to us all.”
“I understand, sir.” Zeke straightened, becoming a composed figure of authority. I found that ability to command attention inspiring. I only wished that I could pull off such a presence to others. But I commanded no one’s attention and few would ever listen to me as they did these two figures.
“Come along, Ms. Forest,” I heard him speak my name. “You can see for yourself the tasks I am asked to deal with on a daily basis.”
Mr. Rockthorn,” I hedged, finding myself fidgeting with the sleeve of my blouse. “Are you sure you mean for me to go? I don’t really like to visit the Medical Ward.”
“Nonsense,” he barked. Standing up from his chair, he glared down at me from his impressive height. “Is this not what your job description includes?”
I didn’t answer. He continued.
“You are learning the inner workings of our political system absorbing and learning through a hands-on approach. This is the less glamorous part of the job. But we are here to keep order and safety for our people. So do you want to get a real look at our system or do you want to carry around trays of tea?”
He folded his massive arms across his chest, waiting for my answer.
I wanted my answer to be neither. Neither did I want to go down to the Medical Ward and see our system acted out on this unknown man. Nor did I want to carry around trays of tea to unappreciative men. But that wasn’t one of the options.
“Of course, I’ll go.” I capitulated, I had to.
“Good, then it’s settled. Call downstairs for a vehicle and let us put this matter behind us quickly.”
I took my full tea tray and exited Mr. Rockthorn’s office, leaving Zeke and Mr. Rockthorn behind to discuss matters of interest that I was not yet privy to.
We rode over to the Medical Ward in silence, Zeke looking nervous, ready to jump out of his skin at the slightest impromptu movement from either of us. Mr. Rockthorn simply looked perturbed and agitated. But he had worn that expression all day. It was nothing I hadn’t already seen. My expression looked….well I’m not sure, but I can say that it wasn’t a contented look.
When we arrived, all seemed calm and serene. No one appeared to be in a panic that someone from the outside had breached our walls. Perhaps they didn’t yet know.
We walked through the lobby of the Medical Ward. Not a soul stopped us as we continued down the white washed sterol hallway to a set of heavy steel doors. Mr. Rockthorn pressed his thumb against a panel, the doors sliding open to allow us entry.
Mr. Rockthorn took the lead, I just a few steps behind him, Zeke bringing up the rear. We advanced through to yet another beautifully pristine hallway. We continued. Judging by the distance and length of time we had been walking, I guessed that we were likely deep in the center of the Medical Ward building. A structure so massive it was only surpassed by the government building we had come from.
Again we were stopped by another set of steel doors. This time it required a finger pad and combination code to access. I was not thrilled to be asked to accompany these two. But then the thought of serving one more cup of tea cleared my mind and obliterated any thoughts about asking to return to my teapot post.
I was thinking absently about how much more comfortable my flat shoes would be on my feet than heels. And as I filed through the steel doors, a horrendous noise cut through the unspoiled silence like a merciless knife. It stopped us all in our tracks. To say that that sound had come from a human may have been a stretch of the imagination. It was feral, animalistic and it scared me nearly to death.
“I thought you said it was down,” Mr. Rockthorn blasted Zeke with a vicious glare, his blue eyes like ice chips.
We stood motionless in the hallway, listening to the unrelenting anger in that disembodied voice. Was it a shout, a cry for help? Or was it a warning to anyone who got in its way?
Zeke furrowed his thick eyebrows, looking to Mr. Rockthorn and then to me. He stopped on my face, a look of concern flashing within his brown eyes. “I thought he was too far out of it. Maybe she should go back.”
“No,” Mr. Rockthorn said aggressively, taking my arm and forcing us to continue down the hallway toward the voice. “This is exactly what she needs to see. The beasts of the old world are not to be shied away from. They are chaos and it is our job to put them in their place.”
He jerked my arm roughly, squeezing my tender flesh. It stung, but I didn’t cry out. I couldn’t. He wouldn’t have heard me, not when he was on his prophetic platform. Nothing could stop or drown out his voice.
“Do you understand, Ms. Forest, why it is imperative that we keep to the order of control; that we do not give in to fanciful ideas? Your grandmother had such ideas didn’t she?” He wrenched my arm again, nearly pulling it out of its socket. I couldn’t help but wince. He didn’t seem to notice or care as he continued.
“That out there in the wilds,” he spat out the word like it was a curse word, “was better than what we could provide in here. She was part of the problem, taking up with those radical thinkers, with their heads in the clouds, daydreaming about an imaginary world that does not exist. I hope that this experience will open your eyes to the truth.” It would.
We neared the room where they were keeping the unknown man. I could feel Zeke hovering just behind me. Because of his lower status, Zeke was not allowed to contradict the Grande Regent. But I suspected he wanted to. I felt he and I were cut from the same cloth. Both of us had to support the traditions of our people because of whom our parents are. They are affluent in our society and well loved for their contributions to our world. If anyone suspected that we might side against the masses and support unpopular views, we could easily destroy their credibility, shame them beyond recognition.
I didn’t appreciate slander against my Nani and I felt that Zeke thought the same.
“Let us see what the outside has wrought,” said Mr. Rockthorn as he punched in more codes into a wall panel off to the side of the rooms opaque glass doors.
I could hear the bellowing coming from inside that room; had heard it as we had drawn closer to its source. As I stood on the opposite side of that door, I realized that Mr. Rockthorn’s bellows earlier today were pitiful children’s cries compared with the unknown voice on the other side.
“Lora,” I heard Zeke say my name. And I could read every intended meaning by his tone. He didn’t want me to go in. He was afraid for me, of what I might see. But I never wanted to be sheltered. I had to go in, just to prove that I was not afraid of the outside like so many others. That other world I had only heard about through my Nani.
“I’m going in Zeke,” I told him with firm resolve coating my voice, belying my trembling nerves.
Chapter 4-
A man was laid prone on a metal examining table, held down by five male physicians, two on either side, one controlling his head. I stood in an observation room, a thick layer of reinforced glass isolating us from those in the operating room. Even through the layer of glass I could hear him, feel his pain like it was my own.
Hot lights burned from above, showcasing the horrible scene in front of me, revealing the rivers of sweat rolling down the exposed flesh of this unknown’s body. He was completely drenched and glistening under those lights. I could easily see each muscle spasm, clench and release of his fists held to his sides, his chest rising too fast as he took in short bursts of air. He was suffering greatly and I was ineffectual at saving him.
“Why is he not secured properly with restraints?” Mr. Rockthorn asked as he stared dispassionately through the thick glass.
A technician working in front of one of numerous monitor screens, answered him. Rotating in her chair she explained, “We tried to secure him on the platform, but he broke through.” She tilted her head slightly to watch the scene playing out in the other room for a second before turning back to us. “He’s impressively strong, sir. There seems to be nothing formidable enough to hold him. We can only hope that the sedative will relax him enough that we can get enough blood samples.”
Mr. Rockthorn frowned. “If he’s been sedated, why does it require five people to hold him down? Look at him. He’s barely leashed as it is.”
It was true. Even under the influence of our drugs the man was barely being controlled by the physician’s hands. I could see they were sweating as well, the amount of energy needed to keep this one man at bay taking all their effort and determination. It was a precarious situation. If even one of them backed off, losing strength, it would be over. They only had a thin measure of control over this unknown creature. Who would succumb first, the men or the beast?
“This is the first anyone has been able to keep him in place since he awoke,” the technician countered. “Even with the drugs, he’s resisting.” She swung her chair around to face another monitor that showed a detailed analysis of the man’s body. “Look at his readings. It’s unnatural. I’ve never seen anything like this man. If he’s human, it’s only because he looks it. Everything else places him as something entirely different.”
I could read from the scrolling charts that his body temperature was well over normal range for a human. In fact, if I had only seen his charts and not the physical specimen, I would have thought he wasn’t human at all. If he was human he would have been dead. He should be dead. He was human, wasn’t he?
“He’s not human,” retorted Mr. Rockthorn. “He’s an animal. If he cannot be controlled, put him down.” There was no hesitation in his voice. The act of issuing a death sentence was rare in our world. Life was far too precious for us to allow it to slip away so easily. But Mr. Rockthorn spoke as if the taking of this man’s life was inconsequential and would easily be forgotten as time passed. This man held no value to us, his life held no sway over our own.
I could have held my tongue and my life would have continued forward. I had a good life. And despite my complaints about my job, I enjoyed being part of something. If my internship ended successfully and I knew that it would, it would be a foot in the door to my future career. Success was just inches beyond my fingertips and I could have it all. People would remember me as they do my mother, look at me with adoration and awe. I could have that if I just kept my mouth shut.
But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
I’m not terribly adventurous, cunning, or a natural born leader, but I am intelligent. Intelligent enough to think beyond my peoples limited perception of the world. However most of the time I fall short, listening to others instead of searching for the truth. For some reason, today, I would not fall into that trap.
Perhaps it was because I had had it up to here with Mr. Rockthorn’s bitter and disrespectful attitude. But in any case, I spoke my true thoughts to him. Whether he was willing to hear them or not, I was going to give him my two cents and then some. This great man was going hear the first person to contradict him in who can guess how long?
I was proud of myself as I mustered up the nerve and the words to invoke my displeasure. Unfortunately, pride cometh before the fall and with a deep breath I stepped off my comfortable ledge of conformity into the unknown. I prayed someone would catch me.
“You cannot allow this man to be exterminated like an unwanted vermin in your home. He is a human being. And even if he isn’t, that doesn’t give you the right to cut his life short.”
I saw Mr. Rockthorn’s eyes widen at first, his jaw go slightly slack. Shock, and then it was gone. And then fury encased his entire body, his jaw tightening, flexing. I speculated that he was enraged that someone as insignificant as I would dare question his authority. Everyone else in the room, the technicians and Zeke simply looked dumbfounded. I could feel all their eyes on me. For a brief moment I was the complete center of everyone’s attention. I took my moment and ran with it. “You condemn this man without any sense of remorse, before you even take the time to figure out why he’s resisting our efforts to help him. That is entirely irresponsible, not to mention unethical.”
I threw my hand out, pointing to the scene beyond that glass wall. “Can’t you see he’s in pain and he’s confused? To him, we are the enemy.”
At that moment the man inside the examining room howled, one of his limbs coming in contact with a tray of instruments, causing it to crash onto the floor. Broken glass vials of his blood spread out from the upturned tray; tiny rounded fingers of liquid creeping across the otherwise pristine floor.
“We’re hurting him, not helping.” I yelled my words over the roar of the man. “You must stop them.”
“You presume too much to think to dictate to me, Ms. Forest.” His words were calm and softly spoken, his anger beyond the need to yell. “You’re like your father, I see. And it is exactly those kinds of words that got him killed. That creature in there would rip you apart and think nothing of it. He has no conscious understanding beyond his limited desires. We do the world a service by taking him out of it.”
I was appalled at his reasoning. “You are the heartless monster who can’t see beyond his own desires,” I hissed. I really enjoyed shoving his words back in his face, a strange high running through my system. I was living in the moment and damning all consequences.
Zeke took my hand, pulling me back into the safety of his arms. I didn’t realize Mr. Rockthorn’s face could have gotten any blotchier than it had been earlier, but I was wrong. His skin stretched so tight along the bones of his face I was just waiting it out before the skin ripped at the seams. It didn’t matter; he could buy a new face. However, I was unlikely to find a new job.
Zeke held me to his side, protectively. Leaning toward my right ear, he whispered. “Have you lost your mind? Of all the people to stand up to, you chose the most powerful man in our world to call a ‘monster’. Maybe you were daydreaming in ethics class because you just went over the edge. There’s such a thing as bravery and then there’s what you just did; suicide with no reprieve of actual death.” I felt his breath as he grumbled a few unintelligible words in my ear.
Putting his body between myself and Mr. Rockthorn, Zeke calmly addressed his obvious superior. “Sir, you know Lora doesn’t mean what she says. She has a kind heart and has obviously sympathized with this unknown man. Perhaps it would be best if I take her back to the office. I think she has had enough of a lesson today.”
Zeke was always so diplomatic. He was a great asset to our world and would be a leading force someday. I wondered if I would be there to see him take his rightful place. He was the natural born leader and I was proud of him. I could see by the subtle changes in Mr. Rockthorn’s expression that he was swayed by Zeke’s words, but then Zeke could make almost anyone listen to him.
“Fine, take her back.” He dismissed us with a flippant wave of his hand, uncaring or oblivious that I was glaring at him with bitter hatred and loathing. My entire body seemed to be consumed by my emotions and he seemed not to care. I heard him whisper something, though I imagine he didn’t intend that I should. “Soft heart, soft mind,” he breathed. “What a waste of creation on that one?”
Zeke would have liked to have hustled me out the door and away from this place before I said or did anything stupid, more than I already had. I knew he had heard Mr. Rockthorn’s words. And if they had been about him, he wouldn’t have let that kind of slander against his name slide. I knew he wanted me to ignore those words. But I couldn’t and I wouldn’t let this man diminish my importance in the world. Perhaps I would never be noteworthy, but I still had value. That man in the other room had value.
I jerked my arm free from Zeke’s restraining grasp. He pleaded at me with his eyes to reconsider what he assumed I would do. I ignored him. We were friends, but sometimes even our friends can be wrong. Mr. Rockthorn was too preoccupied with the technicians to notice me. He had dismissed me completely from his mind. They were at that moment actively discussing the best means of getting rid of their rather large pest problem. I wouldn’t allow them to do this heinous crime. Their apathy to this poor man went beyond my tolerance and it gave me the strength to do what I needed.
The physicians inside the next room were being instructed through an intercom to inject the man with both a high dose sedative and a death drug, a lethal cocktail that would lay low any creature in seconds. On the surface it seemed humane and most others would have stepped aside and allowed this man to die. But I had already jumped too far into this and I couldn’t halt my descent now.
The connecting door to the other room had been left slightly ajar when it should have been closed and locked. But in everyone’s haste they had overlooked this error. Fate was leading me forward.
It was a surprise to the occupants in the examining room and even me, when I pushed through the connecting door and found myself face to face with them. There was a moment of pause where I was looking at them and they were looking at me. All of the physicians had the same expression. The one that read, I had lost my mind. Perhaps I had. I could hear the others in the observation room, yelling at me, but no one came in after me. They were too afraid.
I think I’ll always remember the way he looked at me. His violet colored eyes, speckled with flakes of gold, eyes that saw me as no other had before. He was an animal, but then weren’t we all? It is not a highly tolerated perspective of humanity. But I wonder if it’s not true. Animals were stupid and only good as loving house pets or feared as our enemy. But when I looked into the eyes of this man/beast, I wondered if we were not as different as the other’s in this room believed.
“Stop,” I screamed, even though it wasn’t necessary. The examining room was completely silent. The man watched me with calculating eyes, seeing me as something different from the others he had encountered since arriving to our world. I was mesmerized by his eyes as I continued my mission to save him; the only thing I have ever felt surer about in my life. “You cannot kill this man.” I extracted the syringe of the deadly drug from one astonished physician’s hands, throwing it onto the floor where I made a dramatic show of crushing it beneath the heel of my shoe. I had never been so bold, a rebel.
Little did I know that my great show of resistance would cause the next chain of events. I had assumed that my actions would save this man from death and then I would go back to living my life; jobless, but relatively the same. But I was high in the moment and not taking into account that rebels don’t get to go back to their pre-rebel lives. The distraction of my unannounced presence gave the man on the examining table the opportunity he needed.
Chapter 5
Because of me, the slight advantage the physician’s had over the seemingly drugged man slipped away from them. And it seemed as if in an instant the control of man was taken down by the rules of nature. Five fully grown men found themselves sprawled on the tiled floor, the impact of a single push laying them low.
Within seconds of my arrival into the room, and my dramatic performance of disarming the physician holding the death drug, I found myself the prey to a predator. I was a fool to think I could just walk away from this day without consequences. And one of those consequences was gazing with heated, unblinking, violet colored eyes into my very being.
I had let the beast free.
In one impressive and beautifully graceful bound, he was off the examining table. I didn’t think to run. The natural instincts of man are still apart of us. And despite our ever growing range of knowledge, the basic imprints of man reveal themselves when needed and without conscious effort. My basic imprint should have told me to flee. It didn’t. Instead it told me to stand my ground and wait because the beast in me recognized its own.
I was pushed against the adjacent wall with enough force to knock the wind out of me. It escaped my body in a single undignified grunt of surprise. My head smacked sharply, bouncing between wall of cold stone and a wall of warm flesh. He kept me pinned to the wall, his naked back blocking my view of the rest of the room. At least he had the decency to have trousers on. I could only hear the chaos that was going on around us. And then he spoke.
“If you wish this woman to live, then you will relinquish hold of my belongings. Stand down now or I will kill her. Choose wisely or I will see you all dead.” Those words were spoken in a voice as pure and rich as the creation of music; hard and lethal as the sharpest blade. It was both enthralling and deadly. And he had just threatened my life.
The tables had turned and without a doubt I knew that the control of man was gone. The beast held power in this room. I would die to save the creature that would have no remorse at ending my existence.
I could hardly catch my breath, flattened against wall and man/beast. Thinking I could side step away from him, I found my way blocked by the unrelenting bands of outstretched arms. I was trapped, put here by one heedless attempt at resistance to the majority. I had jumped of my own free will from the ledge and found myself between a rock and a hard merciless man/beast. I had no one to blame but myself.
Please, I whispered.
I don’t know if he heard the breathy, strangled tone of my voice or if he realized that his larger frame was crushing my chest that I couldn’t take in an adequate amount of air into my lungs. But he moved his body a fraction, giving me enough space to allow my lungs and chest to expand properly.
There was quite a bit of commotion going on around me. I could hear people scrambling to get up off the floor, equipment scraping as it was pushed around and voices’ talking in garbled bursts, layering one voice over another. I could only hear what was transpiring, but I imagined that every one of their faces held the same expression. It had been many years since the unknown on the outside had effect on us on the inside. It was horrifying to know that it had the power to take us down.
Something, a bag perhaps, was handed over. The bearer of the object hastily stepping away, the sound of the persons squeaking shoes hinting that they were moving fast and far away from us. This man/beast was outnumbered, yet it seemed as if he held sway over us. I didn’t believe my presence as his hostage had any effect. For the good of our people they should have sacrificed me to save us all.
He had what he wanted; his belongings returned to him. This would have been the opportune time to release me, allow me to go back to my world. But no, it wasn’t going to be that simple.
Pulled out from the wall to stand in front of him, my back now pressed to his front, one arm squeezing my middle, he shoved a heavy leather bag into my unsuspecting clutches. I held tight, not even looking down to see what I was holding. But I assumed it was a duffel bag of sorts, naturally made and not one of our designs. It smelled strange, musky and wild, very much like the being standing so close behind me.
Now I could see everything that I had missed during my concealment behind this creature. Those in the room, the five physicians and others I hadn’t seen or noticed before had positioned themselves about the room, aiming weapons, directing their focus directly at myself and my abductor behind me. My death was imminent, either by the friendly fire of my people or at the hands that held me captive.
Zeke entered slowly into the room, using the connecting door I had used earlier, his own weapon raised high, aiming not at me, but just above my head. His face looked pinched. I could see his stress, the sheen of glistening moisture on his smooth forehead. His arm never wavered and he refused to look me in the eyes.
“Let her go and we’ll release you from our custody. I’ll take you to our borders myself and allow you to return to your world.” He spoke with his most sincere and charming voice, hoping to sway the mind of this unknown enemy. “Just allow me to take her from you. No one wishes you harm.”
I felt his chest shake, a bitter laugh escaping from him. “Do you think I’m a fool?” he raged. I could see everyone in the room flinch, as did I at the energy in that voice. “As you have already guessed, I understand your language. No harm”, he quoted Zeke’s words. “You and your people were just about to have me put down. And I don’t believe for a fraction of a millisecond that any of you would allow me to simply walk away. No.” he said, his voice harsh. “You can keep your empty promises. There is only one person who showed remorse at the possibility of my death and she’s right here.”
I felt his hand brush a piece of my hair, tucking it gently behind my ear. It was something I didn’t expect, a gesture too tender to come from something so fierce. He continued.
“I think I’ll keep her,” His arm constricted against my middle, a hard band of flesh forcing me closer to his person. “And the second you try to take her from me will be the second before you know you’re dead.”
“Be reasonable,” Zeke persuaded, mustering all his strength and training to free me. “There’s no way to exit our borders on your own. And even if you do escape this room, the minute you leave this building you’ll be taken down.” He lowered his weapon, apparently seeing that it had no effect on this creature. “Already the entire military force is aligning itself outside in the quad, waiting for you. My people will do whatever is necessary to take down this threat. You will die if you try to escape,” for a brief moment his eyes turned to mine, “and Lora will die with you.” He leveled his gaze back on my captor.
They were not of equal height, Zeke falling a few inches shorter, but I think that they were equally matched opponents. “Is that what you want for her?” Zeke questioned, his voice never wavering, simply stating the facts. “The only person who tried to save you will be destroyed for having a pure and generous heart. Will you risk her life as well as yours; and for what?”
“You’re very convincing. I can see that one day you will make an exceptional leader. But today you are just a boy who only wants to save his best friend.”
We moved together as a unit, his arm securing me in front as we hedged our way slowly toward Zeke. We stopped about a foot away, but Zeke didn’t try to take me from him. He eyed us both. I’m not sure what he read in our faces, but he didn’t look pleased.
“It’s Zeke isn’t it?” asked the man/beast.
That startled him. He had appeared so cool and calm during this entire experience, but that one simple question rattled him.
Zeke nodded.
“Today’s not your day to win, but it will be soon. Now step aside.”
Zeke frowned, turning to look at the others in the room before focusing his attention back on us. “You’ll never make it past the front entry way.”
“I’m aware of that, thank you.” He made those words sound polite as if he really were thanking Zeke for something.
Zeke brought his focus down onto my face, his expression grim. He nodded to the others, telling them with that gesture to stand down. Zeke slowly stepped aside, watching us carefully as we, as one person, moved past him.
Inside the observation room, I felt all eyes on me. Their concern for themselves rather than my well being etched on their tense faces. Mr. Rockthorn, standing safely behind two technicians, was the only one to speak. “It seems you got exactly what you deserved, girl.” An evil twist in his lips revealed the truth. He wouldn’t have cared if I died today.
“And you, Herbert, will get exactly what you deserve,” My captor countered and I enjoyed for a brief moment the horror that crossed Mr. Rockthorn’s face. Then we were gone, racing down a long stretch of hallway to who knows where, a death watch over both of our heads.
Chapter 6
“I can’t keep up.” I shouted at him. He had to pull me along and in these shoes I can’t match his stride. My lungs felt like they were going to burst or disintegrate inside my body. I huffed and blew air out of my mouth hard, the cool air burning my lungs. “I need to stop. I tell you, I’m going to keel over.”
He growls something. I can’t quite catch what he says, but then suddenly I’m being hoisted like a sack of minerals over his shoulder. We take off again. It’s so undignified to be carried around, but I really was going to pass out if I had to run anymore.
“Put me down,” I yell to his back. Though I didn’t really want him to put me down, a strange excitement crossed my mind as he carried me without much effort. It was one of those scenes from a story book, the heroine carried off by her valiant hero. But he was not my hero, he was my captor and I wasn’t his heroine, but his hostage. He had threatened my life. Hero’s don’t threaten their heroines.
“Just leave me here and you can escape.” I pleaded with him. “You don’t need me anymore. I’m just slowing you down.” I try to reason with him, but it does no good. He is a rather thick headed creature. But most men I have met so far tended to be obstinate.
He ignored me.
To my surprise, instead of going the way I had come in, we descended deep into the center of the building. He shouldn’t have known his way around our world and yet he never faltered on his unknown course, bursting through doors, angling down stairs, me, a lump of flesh on his back.
“Where on planet’s surface do you think you are going?” I questioned him tersely. “If you haven’t guessed by now, you’re going in the wrong direction.” I threw one arm out, pointing to a map on the far wall. “The front entry way is back in the opposite direction.”
“And that is where they will be expecting us. We are going where few would think to look.” He didn’t elaborate. As he adjusted me over his shoulder, his hand slid over the exposed skin behind my knee, moving higher. I don’t know if it was accidental or intentional, but it unnerved me, sending little shocks through me nervous system. I pushed my indecent thoughts aside.
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