The Assumption Code

by Melodee Elliott

  “Come in,” she said realizing where she was.

  The door creaked open. Zarnel peeked her head in the room. “They are ready.”

  Margi managed to get to her feet and followed her back to the main bunker. Zarnel ushered her inside the council room but did not follow. Margi was about to face an inquisition.

  She told the council where the bodies were piled, her studies of DanuVitro, and of the man who gave her the exam.

  “Rolo,” Byn said.

  “Who?” she asked.

  No answer.

  “So, you have infiltrated DanuVitro?” she asked, standing to help loosen the hold on her thoughts and reassess her memories.

  “How do you think we assigned you your driver?” Byn quipped.

  She quickly realized that she could offer no more intel than The Ward had collected for years. She told them of Stavon’s routines, the emanator she saw with the clone, and the floor plan of the castle she had visited. None of it was a cavernous hole in Stavon’s armor that she could simply walk The Ward through. With all of Stavon’s hidden deeds, he was surprisingly transparent. And that which wasn’t was inconsequential. She felt defeated.

  Byn sat on the sofa. “Look beyond what you see.”

  She furrowed her eyebrows. “What?”

  “You are his weakness.”

  She threw up her hands. “I got that.”

  He paused, looking her over. She already felt like an idiot as it was and looked away.

  “Did anyone shoot at you as your driver sped you away from DanuVitro today?”

  She stared through him to let the chase play out in her mind.

  “Hmm? Why is that? You are his weakness.” He approached her. “In fact, I’d say you are more of a weakness to him than Rivner ever was. I must admit I’m impressed.”

  She said nothing.

  He tossed his hand to brush off the notion. “More importantly, I need to know why. And how we can use it.”

  “It’s not only me. He’s in it for the game.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “He wanted me to go to Meno with him on a couple’s trip.”

  “What Adventure?”

  “He was to support his queen,” she replied.

  Byn burst into bellows of laughter. “Lucky for you, we got to you first. Such trips are never what they seem, to live as someone else, lest you forget who you are. You would not be the first to succumb, but your first may have been your last as Margi. I think you can identify. Yes?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, remembering her pleasures in being Rivner and the personal cost Rivner endured to further her own false persona. Margi had had the same approach to life, even on Earth. The degradation was formulaic with every person as each Great Adventure clawed its way to the center of an individual, until one willingly sacrificed whom he was to play the part. She held back the tears that tried to force her confession.

  Byn stood knowingly. “The council will discuss what role you can play as yourself,” he informed her.

  “He thinks I’m Rivner.”

  “No dear, he knew you were Margi from the first day you arrived.”

  The recollections of that day came flooding back to her with the foggy memory of his kiss. He had looked at the display and glanced back at her with a questioning stare. He did know, she realized. He still made love to her, gave her the study assignments, and had Ferli do Rivner’s job meanwhile.

  She gripped her head in her hands. He had taken her to the castle. All the while, he knew. Her breath heaved in her chest. She didn’t know she could hate that much.

  She stormed from the room and fled through one of the arches, not knowing where it would lead. She heard footsteps keeping pace with her. She kept running toward the darkness where a private moment would surely be.

  “Margi!” a familiar voice called out.

  She looked back as she ran and saw Tolman gaining ground. She stopped cold and waited for him to reach her.

  “It was a lie,” she pleaded. “Stavon. He knew.”

  Tolman embraced her.

  “He could have killed me,” she said.

  “But he didn’t.” He braced her shoulders, making her look him in the eye. “He didn’t.”

  She collected her senses. “You’re here.”

  “Thankfully. The studio is gone.”

  “I saw. I’m sorry.”

  “There will be more damage if we don’t find a way to bring him down. I don’t know if we’ll get another chance. He’s rounding up members of The Ward.”

  At that moment, some of the men rushed into the bunker, shouting.

  Margi and Tolman peered down the tunnel to see the men brace the metal door. An explosion shook the walls as chunks of stone fell from the domed ceiling.

  “Evacuate!” Byn yelled, his commanding voice reaching down the tunnels.

  She imagined Stavon himself bursting through those doors.

  “Come this way.” Tolman grabbed her arm and pulled her deeper into the darkness. This time she could keep pace with him.

  They stomped through the puddles in the pathway and the splashing sound helped focus her direction to him. After what felt like a mile, he stopped at a bend in the trail. She could see a soft glow of light coming from the end. A fork in the tunnel now came into view where a second tunnel lead straight into darkness. She peered into the inky blackness where the brick surface fell away into nothingness.

  She tried to calm her breathing for Tolman’s sake, so he could listen down the dark passage. His chest heaved with his own breath as he gulped air, and through the exhale, leaned into the edge of shadow.

  Labored breaths came from only the two of them, nothing else. Margi exhaled her fear.

  Then, he grabbed her hand, and led her into the void. They moved faster. She held her other hand out in case she rammed herself into a wall. Tolman was mere steps ahead when he stumbled, causing her to fall atop him. She tried to remove herself from the tangle of arms and legs when she realized that another person was present, shoving her to the ground.

  She swung her fists through the air, at times striking her opponent. She heard an unknown voice when Tolman slammed the man to the ground. She pressed against the body to hold him for Tolman. She was flung to the side, against bricks that littered the edge of the floor. The sting of a slash on her hand heightened her awareness. She took hold of one brick and determined by both men’s breathing that the stranger was now atop Tolman. She reached the brick behind her and slammed it down against the man’s head and felt his skull crack. She hit again and again until blood splattered her face.

  He groaned. She felt his hand grip her leg and pull. She kicked at him and again felt his head wobble as she hit it with her boot. Grunts emanated near her. She reached forward and felt the muscles in Tolman’s arm bearing down. The man’s grunts grew faint, and the tussle of bodies ended.

  She lurched back and thrust the man’s legs away from her. The feeling of the brick upon bone still resonated through her hands.

  Fingers fumbled against her arm and then held it tight. “It’s me,” Tolman whispered. “It’s me.”

  Margi stopped fighting and gripped his sleeve. At once, his soothing form vanquished the harshness of the tunnel floor. In the darkness and danger, he was here.

  She rose and pulled him to her. They held each other in a world of nothingness save for the immediacy of another’s comfort. Death lay beside them, at her own hands.

  In her mind, she felt the moment the man’s skull gave way. Yet there could be another mere feet away, and she would do it again. That bothered her but not enough to keep her from reaching for another brick. Still, she could not undo the act. She was that person now—a killer, as if the universe now knew who she truly was.

  They needed to keep going. Tolman pulled her onward. She occasionally grazed the wall with the brick in her other hand until she no longer felt she needed it and let it fall to the ground. She continued feeling her way along t
he wall with its texture sometimes smooth, sometimes rough, and sometimes a finger of root entangling her hand. At one point, the darkness was not as black as she had once thought, or maybe fear had heightened her sight. She could see an outline of Tolman ahead of her with his hand grasping hers.

  He took her along another tunnel, and eventually the glow of light brightened. As they rounded a corner, she saw a channel of light from an opened grate above.

  Tolman paused to look upward and listened again. Silence. She slowly approached the portal. Its glare blinded her. He advanced up the ladder and peered aboveground, then gave her the go-ahead to ascend.

  She emerged into the light and shaded her eyes with her hands. They were surrounded by trees with the edifices of civilization mere city blocks away. She braced her hands upon her knees to catch her breath. They shared a moment’s glance—the relief palpable.

  “We need to take cover,” he said, scanning the environment.

  She looked upward. “In the trees?”

  He outright laughed. “Follow me.”

  She stepped forward. “I’m glad you think that’s so funny.”

  She kept silent and laughed to herself, which helped to dismiss the severity of her temperament, a reprieve from the instinct of her own hostility granted to her by Tolman. He had that way about him just as he did with the sea creatures, always allowing a new moment in the midst of the otherwise suppressive, downtrodden, and fearful. However, the realization came that she had killed a man with brutal force. She wiped the blood from her arm and pretended it was her own.

  A hover car hummed in the near distance and came into view overhead. They hid under a broad-leafed tree until it disappeared.

  “They’ll be out here all night,” he added.

  When the car passed, they set out again.

  Margi followed him through the vegetation, glancing up through the canopy while trying to place her footsteps in his safe passage.

  “Why doesn’t anyone come to the forest?” she asked.

  “The holograms don’t reflect off the foliage. There’s no reason to come.”

  “You believe that, too?”

  “You tell me,” he countered and pointed to a door of burled wood nestled into a mound of hillside.

  She couldn’t help but smile.

  Tolman opened the door for her and bolted it with a lever once inside. He struck a match-like stick and lit a bowl of some substance that now flamed across its surface, sending a warm glow. The room lent meager amenities, sufficient for an adventurer with more important considerations than comfort.

  He went to a faucet and turned the spigot. Water ran into a basin. He dampened a towel and approached her, then gently wiped the rag across her cheek. The pressure of his fingers was mindfully gentle upon her skin.

  She saw red on the fabric and startled.

  He kept steady. “You were quite the warrior back there,” he said, continuing to wipe the blood from her face.

  “I’m learning.” She considered his fate if she had not killed the man. She was thankful that she had helped him in a way she knew he would have done for her. This was her true self—a personal strength, she felt.

  He lifted her hand and swept the towel the length of it, and returned to the sink.

  She looked around the room. “Is this your place?”

  He looked back. “Sometimes. The Ward has various locations in the forest.”

  “I noticed that the city is referred to as Danu. But the planet is Danu, too. Why is that?”

  “The city is their world now.”

  That made sense to her, with the populace chasing the wealthy to greater heights into the sky. The holograms masked what was below as if repressed souls would always look downward and to the sales pitch of those who ruled from above. In contrast, Stavon’s office was perched in the clouds, tree barked walls, a glass floor, and a waterfall in the entry. He saved the best for himself, always.

  “Stavon has a castle in the forest. By the ocean,” she said.

  “And still, he does not see the beauty.”

  Margi stood and considered what Stavon must think of her, sending his men for her, and to what end. What was he saving her for? What was the nature of beauty to Stavon, anyway? The riddle of her circumstances persisted.

  “It will get dark soon. I don’t expect anyone to visit us tonight.”

  “I hope not,” she replied and caught herself. “I’m tired of the chase.”

  “Hungry?” He held up a container of food.

  “Famished.” She hadn’t even thought of food after the chasing and killing she had taken part in during the day.

  He opened the package and sat it into the flaming substance. Soon, its contents were hot. He poured a portion for each of them.

  He cleared a small table, and they ate. The moment reminded her of childhood when meals were simple and eaten at the table. In such times, a sense of safety, one’s place in the world was assured and taken for granted as was a child’s prerogative.

  She gazed at him and somehow knew he was letting her stare at him.

  Perhaps it was the fact that she ate that made her so tired. Her elbow slipped off the table.

  “You should rest. I have a bed over there.” Tolman motioned to the far corner.

  “Where are you going to sleep?” She looked for a cot.

  “The floor is fine.”

  “No—”

  “Or I could sleep in a tree.”

  She burst out laughing. Yet she was so tired, she yawned even as she laughed, which made her laugh even more.

  Tolman began to laugh, and he was laughing at her, she knew, and it made her laugh, and yawn, even more.

  She hadn’t the energy to think about it further but submitted herself to him in this way and let him laugh. Moments later, sleepiness won over her.

  He changed the bedding and placed the old ones on the floor.

  She lay down and watched him place a rag over the flaming bowl. The room went dark.

  She could hear him wrestling the blankets over him and sigh as he lay down. She sensed where he was and the position that he rested in, and wanted to crawl to the floor and join him. Instead, she faced the other way and tried to sleep, still wearing the smile from dinner.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Light from the open doorway bathed the room with the morning sun’s rays. Then it eclipsed and went dark.

  Margi heard two men talking outside. One was Tolman, and the other the man had the voice of one who had given her the examination.

  She sat straight up in bed and put on her clothes.

  As she was pulling on her boots, the door opened. Tolman peered inside, then entered, followed by the man.

  “I thought I heard you,” he said. “Meet Rolo.”

  Rolo stepped forward.

  “It’s you,” she said, thinking of the man in his lab coat, the man at Tolman’s studio.

  Rolo remained where he stood inside the doorway. “Sorry that I couldn’t reveal myself to you. For both of our safety.”

  “I understand.” She truly did now.

  “I wanted to make sure that you were alright,” Rolo said.

  “I’m fine.”

  “That you have managed,” he added.

  “Have a seat,” Tolman offered.

  Rolo and Margi sat at the small table as Tolman poured a cup of water.

  “What have you heard?” Tolman asked and leaned against the counter.

  “We’ve all disbanded. I mean everyone. It’s not safe.”

  “What has he done?” Margi asked.

  “He’s rounded up some of us from DanuVitro who were suspected as part of The Ward. He’s sending them to Meno.” He paused. “As participants.”

  Her thoughts went to the bodies piled high, bodies that were scooped up using the impersonal claws of machinery and stacked. They were bodies still wearing the clothes of the adventures the client’s donned them like playing dolls and with no more conscience given to the matter.

  �
��It’s what happened to your Holan.”

  She rose from her seat. Remembering the scroll telling of Holan’s suicide, she tried to envision the scenarios taking place beyond her wherewithal. Somehow, Holan had earned Stavon’s ire, one that was so great that it earned him his karma. All that time, Stavon also knew her true identity. She was sitting in his lair, waiting her turn, and never knew. She cringed.

  “When was this?” Tolman asked.

  “Yesterday.”

  “That was fast,” she added.

  “When Stavon makes up his mind, he doesn’t wait, nor does he waiver,” Rolo said.

  She recalled the man bursting into her office—and in the nick of time since Stavon’s men would have seized her momentarily. Rolo sat before her, known to her only just now, and yet he had been her guardian the whole time, risking his life for her just as he did for The Ward and their service to the people of Danu. His mission was singular and true: freedom for his people.

  “That is why Byn has decided to attack DanuVitro and destroy their facilities,” he continued.

  “But then I can’t return to Earth.” Her fears were being realized. She was all alone in the universe, and her voice was not enough to save her. No one to put her first. No true loyalties to help. Not really. She turned to Tolman. “He can’t do it.”

  Rolo remained calm. “The time has come. The Ward is all we have to right us as a civilization. We will all end up on Meno soon if we don’t bring him down.”

  Margi paced. She would be included in that slaughter. That’s what it was—a sacrifice. There would be no escape from that. She was a part of The Ward. Though she had wanted to help them and their cause, she wanted even more to live her own life. My own life, she thought. The Ward wanted the same for the people. She now understood and in a way that was no longer in the theoretical, no longer pressuring to act. She felt compelled to do so for them in kinship but did not know the hour nor the manner that such an act could take place. Above all else, Stavon mustn’t gain his trespass to Earth.

  “I still have your Path,” Rolo reminded.