Escaping

by Sebastien Acacia

  “What happened to my mother?” Matilda asked while finally starting to cry.

  “Your father was from the Chad, and he promised her he will meet her in Kalia - he was sure she would be safe there and that nobody would discover her true identity. Then, he gave her the small NASA beacon we used to locate you. He had to cope through, find a chip to merge away into the masses, then find her and activate the beacon so we could organise a rescue mission. Since the day we escaped from the Milicia Christi, 21 years ago, we’ve never heard of him again. We were thinking he got caught by the Church, and he had been killed like everybody else. To be honest, with time going by, we also thought your mother had endured the same fate.”

  “So my mother received the chip of a woman called Helena Sroulevic, right?” Matilda interrupted him, trying to find a loophole in his story.

  “Exactly, my dear. We had an accomplice working in an incineration plant and providing us the chips of deceased people going through standard procedures before being incinerated. Sometimes, when he received some very mutilated corpses - a lot because of car or plane accidents - which still had their chips, he was taking them and was disguising the offence by mutilating the corpse even more, tearing off the forearm or what was left of it if needed. It wasn’t making a big difference on the corpse and was going unnoticed.”

  “This doesn’t explain how you can claim I’m his daughter?”

  “When Esclarmonde escaped to Kalia she was already pregnant. We’re all actively taking part in the natality worship, masses and other Church ceremonies. It was a matter of survival. In France, we were creating an underground network of dissidents. The inquisition was as efficient as it was ruthless with non-followers so we had to merge with the mass and adopt the Church principles to avoid arousing suspicion. One day, she got pregnant. An insult for an atheist.”

  “My mother wasn’t really tied with the Church, but she believed in God,” Matilda confronted him.

  “I can’t imagine Esclarmonde feeling anything other than disdain in the simple idea of God, my dear. She had certainly done everything to protect you and herself, even if she had to fake she believed in.”

  “What about Inosanto’s extreme age ? How do you explain he is 170 years old?”

  “I still don’t have any accurate explanation for you. I only know that a few weeks before the great purge, rumours about a nano-substance enabling cell regeneration and to dodge death itself started spreading in the scientific world.”

  The container! Matilda immediately thought.

  “This was 20 years ago, he was already 150 years old, your explanation doesn’t apply,” Matilda provoked him.”

  “I’m well aware of this. Nevertheless, I trust much more in science to discover it than in the third testament, even if written by Inosanto himself.”

  “Don’t you simply see the proof of God’s existence?” She finally tried to argue, her convictions stronger than ever after Phoebus’ confession of ignorance.

  “How do you explain an atheist had been chosen by God to give life?” Blanche challenged her.

  “I know this is a lot to ingest in a very short time,” Phoebus added on a paternal tone. “But I need to know if Guilhabert talked about anything which could help us overthrowing Inosanto and finally end Terra Fecundis’s inquisition.”

  Deep in her, a small voice was whispering to Matilda that their arguments weren’t completely absurd. She couldn’t deny her mother had almost never been to the church. Without Father Matthew’s beneficial indulgence toward her, who knew what would have happened? How to distinguish between everything? The real? The fake?

  “I don’t know anything else. I’m sorry, I can’t help you,” Matilda hesitated.

  Phoebus, discouraged, turned back to face the prehistoric drawings and shyly came closer.

  “Leave me alone,” he said, disillusioned.

  Blanche looked at Matilda and signalled her to follow her. Phoebus was lost in his thoughts, he was already hunting in the huge plains of the Pyrenees, holding a spear, abreast. His stabbing breath was punctuated by the lights’ dance which organic moves were giving life to the preys on the wall of the thousand-year-old cave. Phoebus wasn’t from this era any more. This time the Kathars were desperately needing.

  As long as there is some life...

  Matilda was discovering her new living unit. Like in Kalia, they were all numbered. Hers had the number A1-067. It was simply meaning “apartment 67 in the wing number 1.” Located in a high cavity like a seven-storey building, a small underground river supplied by a lake was running by. The light noise of the water troubled by the cave’s rocks were suitable for relaxation and reflection. Almost adjusted on outside day and night rhythm, the collective lighting inside the cave was now at its lowest intensity. Nevertheless, despite being almost 10pm, many people of the Kathar community were going back and forth. Blanche explained her where the linen and the toiletries were and how the shower and the organic toilet worked. Two completely white tunics and some beautiful boots were also on the shelf. According to Blanche, it was her size and she could use them, the former occupier having passed away a few months ago. Whatever, as Matilda’s clothes were torn off, bloodstained, full of dirt and sweat, she had no other choice but to put those clothes on. She also showed her the cleaning products and was particularly insisting on this topic. An immaculate cleanliness was required. Nothing was harder to stop than a mould propagation in such a confine and wet place as the cave. The metallic equipment was limited as much as possible because of the enhanced oxidation they were subject to in this environment. Despite the imposing structure forming the main frame of the houses, plastic had become the favoured material. The room wasn’t bigger than 8 square yards, including the toilets, a small table, one chair, a few shelves and a narrow retractable bed mounted on an actuator, so it could free some space when she wouldn’t be sleeping. On the wall, an old leaflet was representing Montségur castle from a bird’s point of view and she could read written in white, “Montségur and the Cathar mystery.” A handwritten red K drawn with a marker was overlaying on the C of Cathar. The lower part was filled with some strange red crosses surrounded by golden moon crescents that most of the soldiers, she had seen since she had been saved, were wearing.

  “It isn’t really big,” Matilda complained while glancing at the old picture.

  “We all received the same things,” Blanche answered. “If you’ve any problems, don’t hesitate to disturb your neighbour above. She usually goes to sleep late.”

  “Hmm! And what weird name does she have?” Matilda said ironically.

  “Ermessende. And there is nothing weird about it,” Blanche said irritated. “If one day you wish to be fully part of the Kathar community, you will have to receive the consolamentum from Phoebus himself, which involves a new identity.”

  “The consolamentum? A new identity?” Matilda interrupted him.

  “A kind of baptism professed by the Cathars.”

  “I don’t understand, you’re speaking about the Cathars like if they don’t exist any more?”

  “Are you saying, you don’t know who the Cathars are?” Blanche said surprised.

  “Hmm... no!” Matilda apologised.

  “I knew Inosanto was consciously nurturing his followers’ ignorance, but this is the topped! Cathars were some Christian considered as heretic by the Catholic Church. They have almost been completely eradicated during the first inquisition of the history during the 13th century.”

  “Hmm! If they were Christian, I don’t understand why the Catholic Church wanted to eradicate them,” Matilda argued.

  “Because they were claiming God wasn’t the sole and only creator of the universe. From their point of view, the Devil had created the matter, the world, the bodies, and so on... And God had created the minds and the souls. Also, according to their doctrine, none of them could overcome the other. The Catholic Church who was claiming God was the sole and only creator of everything quickly saw them as a threat against th
eir authority.”

  “This makes no sense! As you believe in science, why did you choose to be called the Kathars?”

  “We don’t believe in science, we’re using it,” Blanche answered her, a bit irritated. “We’re establishing some assumptions, confronting them to the real world and if the observations are in conflict, it means we were wrong. So we’ve to reformulate the theories until they’re confirmed by the observations. This is totally different.”

  “You didn’t answer my question! Why be called the Kathars?”

  “Because they bravely defied the Crusader knights. They fought until the very end. Because they have never given up their ideals and beliefs. Also, they were living here, in the South of France. Even if we don’t share their religious beliefs, we at least share their courage and commitment. We adapted their rituals and taking their names was a way to honour them. We’re the last bastion still fighting against Inosanto’s inquisition, against obscurantism, against the ignorance he brought on the world. But we do this on behalf of science, progress and technology.”

  “That’s why the K instead of the C?” Matilda thought loudly while looking one more time at the leaflet, while stroking Tao.

  “You still have a lot to learn to honour your mother. She is a legend here. She was one of the four founders of the Kathar movement with Guilhabert, Phoebus and his brother Guiraud. That’s why she has chosen to get the name of a flawless Cathar, Esclarmonde de Péreille. At that time, she was Raymond de Péreille’s daughter, lord of Montségur castle. She was burnt on the stake of Montségur on the 16th of March 1244 because she refused to abjure her faith. In Occitan, her name means “who is lighting the world.”

  “Before being shot in front of the Legatee, my mother just kept repeating a strange sentence loudly. “Happy the one living for science and improving the world...”

  “... and who will overcome darkness through science. I wish I could have met your mother,” Blanche sighed.

  “According to the way you spoke about her, I thought you had already met her,” Matilda said surprised.

  “We will speak about this another time, I’ve to go.”

  “And Ermessende, where does it come from?” Matilda insisted.

  “She was the wife of the Count of Toulouse.”

  “And what does it mean?”

  “Why don’t you go to visit her then you can ask her the question yourself? I really have to go,” Blanche tried to conclude, in a hurry to leave.

  “Wait!” Matilda interrupted her one last time.

  Blanche, already standing on the exterior doorstep, looked at her, disillusioned.

  “What, again?” She sighed.

  “Tao needs to eat something. To drink.”

  “Ermessende!” Blanche simply replied her, pointing toward the floor above.

  Then, she closed the door.

  Ermessende ...

  “My poor Tao, you’re hungry,” she told while stroking him. “So, I guess we don’t have any choice.”

  Matilda looked at herself in the mirror hanged on the wall next to the shelf. It was the first time she looked at her since she had been extracted from Kalia. She dropped sitting on the bed, which mattress wasn’t comfortable at all. Tao was snooping near the door, sniffing every asperity, every corner, each material. Matilda buried her head in her hand and loosen up.

  “Why me? Oh Lord, what did I do to deserve this? Why did I come across some unbelievers, some infidels? What are you trying to tell me?” She whispered very in a very low voice.

  She broke down in tears, the saddest she had been in her entire life. But, did someone need to be 100 years old to really feel the weight of suffering? She had just been through the unthinkable, while her fate was to have a peaceful life. In the worst scenario, she would never have children, but she would have worked in the fields or in the cricket farms, sow some Kang Kong. She would have lived with her big idiot Paul, who made her laugh because of his clumsiness and his stunning manners. Tao brought Matilda back to reality. He was barking in front of her, probably begging for a few caterpillar kibbles and a bowl of water. She stared at herself in the mirror one last time, sitting, dirty, stinking swear, the eyes full of too many tears so she couldn’t retain them. Her gaze hardened. She didn’t like what she was seeing. She didn’t like what she was deeply feeling in her heart, in her flesh.

  Give me the strength! I’m begging you, show me the way!

  Tao was insisting. Matilda came around and bent over to take him in her arm. While doing this, she offloaded the bed. She heard a faint metallic ping but it was already too late. The bed suddenly winded up, brutally activated by the actuator. Pushed on the hips, she felt forward while trying to protect Tao the best she could. She couldn’t avoid knocking her head on one of the table feet just in front of her.

  “Ouch! What is this thing?” She raged.

  She slowly rolled on the side. Tao, after being knocked on the nose by almost one hundred and ten pounds, was shaking his head to come around while whining. While she was pressing on her head to avoid an unsightly bump, she spotted a few small pictures and newspaper articles pinned under the bed. On the highest one, there were four people standing proudly in front of a curious structure made of spheres linked together by big tube axis. Matilda thought she recognised somebody and came closer. She was stunned, this was her mother next to Guilhabert, Phoebus and another man she didn’t know, probably his brother, Guiraud, she thought. Her mother already had a round belly.

  So it was a bit before the great purge, before you had to run away...

  Under the photo, a small handwritten caption stated. “Could there be a better place than Brussels’s Atomium to ratify the creation of our Kathar movement and to write its manifesto for science and against obscurantism?”

  “The Atomium?” Matilda whispered, touched to see, for the first time, her mother being so young.

  They seem to be so conquering and so proud. You’re so beautiful, mum.

  She dragged her finger on Guilhabert’s face, her father whose real name was Victor Akamba.

  I was just a few inches from you and my heart didn’t even recognise you.

  Under the picture, a roughly sliced extract of the manifesto was pinned on the bed by two pins.

  “The experienced Kathar doesn’t believe. He will always seek the truth in books or through experiments, so in the science and in the quantum reality themselves. He will achieve this through what is called the “consolamentum,” in other words, the far-sighted revelation of researched facts, thought moral purification and the imposition of hand for the internal awakening of science. In fact, it’s everything the pagan antiquity was defining under the name “Initiation,” applied to scientific thinking to reach a perfect symbiosis between science and human intuition. This summarises the essential differences between the temporal and esoteric Church and the verified factual approach of the Kathars. For a Kathar, there is nothing more pressing than pursuing the great search for real through knowledge about the atom, in order to reach the ultimate truth...”

  Right below, Matilda looked at another picture taken in the big room with the cave paintings, the Sanctuary. One dear old lady, her left knee laid down, her hands overlapping on her right thigh, head down in a sign of noble humility, was receiving the consolamentum from the four founders of the Kathar movement all wearing white toga printed with the original Cathar cross. Despite the poor light from the seldom flash lights, it was possible to see precisely the four scientists around her - they were applying their right hand four inches over her head, while keeping three fingers of their left hand on their forefront slightly bowed. An almost sacred solemnity was emanating from the event. Matilda was particularly moved.

  So mum, you were here! But who is this woman?

  Under the picture, a handwritten text stated. “Day of my consolamentum, 04th October 2160.”

  Matilda looked around her, looking for some information that could help her identify the woman. Stuttered, she read another text below,
entitled “Kathar consolamentum ceremony - Atom’s Gospel.”

  At the beginning, there was the atom, it was everywhere, it was everything;

  Through it, everything came to existence, and everything that happened, did with it;

  It was holding life, and life was human beings’ lights;

  There were the great scientists, their names were Galileo, Newton, Darwin, Einstein, Hawkins, and so many others;

  They came as witness to testify about the atom so everybody would believe in it;

  Those men weren’t the light, but they were here to honour the light;

  Atom was the true light, the one illuminating every human being born in the world;

  The world started to exist through it, but the world replaced it by obscurantism;

  It came to its place, and its followers preferred some fake prophets;

  But for everyone who had received it, it gave them the power to serve science, to these people working on its behalf;

  Kathars testify about it by declaring, “For science we live, though science we will overcome”;

  We all received a part of its truth; we’ve received knowledge after knowledge;

  Because science came to exist through the atom, and its understanding and power were revealed to us by science.

  Matilda looked up, toward the sky.

  Is this what you wanted to show me? Is this the way? Is this the light I was looking for?

  From the tip of her finger, she touched this woman on her knees, with a deep feeling of respect.

  Did you live here?

  Hurried by Tao, she finally undressed and get closer to the narrow shower cubicle. According to Blanche’s recommendation, she didn’t have enough water to relax in the shower as she used to do in Kalia, where water wasn’t an issue at all. Nevertheless, her first experience wasn’t a success at all. She opened the tap to let the water free and wet her body so she could soap it easily. Lost in her thoughts, she wasn’t really conscious of the time she spent under the water and about the amount of water she just used for this simple task. She cut off the flow and scrubbed all her body with a harsh soap the colour of copper, probably made from used cooking oil. The smell wasn’t unpleasant, but Matilda didn’t like this drying sensation of her skin that it caused after being used. When it was time to wash herself, she opened the tap again and, with the palm of her hand, she started guided the water all over her body to remove the foam. This would have gone very well if she hadn’t used 90% of the tank during the first phase. She didn’t get time to wash her beautiful and long black hairs full of foam before the water stop running.