The Way of the Ram

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The Way of the Ram Page 3

by Kevin Hensley


  Dreamer shook her head. “I had no idea.”

  “I never told anyone. I was no match for those two pigs, so I fled my lab and left all my research behind. They stole everything. After they won the war, they began implementing my work almost immediately. They crafted the hounds, the warthogs, and the ospreys to be physically intimidating but stupid and easy to control.” Caper looked the other way, where the Megatropolis dominated the horizon. “The newest building, Chugg Cybernetics, haunts me every time I set foot outside. That monstrosity exists because of my work during the war. I am responsible for the creation of horrors like Durdge.”

  “And now you do what you do here at University to make up for it.”

  Caper sighed. “In what little way I can. I will never be able to undo the ghastly research I did for the war effort, nor can I take away what the pigs have been able to accomplish with it. That’s why, even though I am successful here at University, I will never stop doing what I can to protect sheep from the worst of what the Chugg Corporation can do. I hope now you understand why I won’t stop… why I think Healer won’t stop.”

  Dreamer nodded. “I do.” She fixed him with a firm look. “I don’t think I can ever see you the same way again, Professor. But all the same, I appreciate you showing me.”

  “That’s exactly what I’d expect you to say.” Caper returned the nod. “But I want to ask you something. You told me long ago that you could look at others’ memories. I have to confess I had intended to gloss over the unpleasant parts of that day. But you showed an unnerving degree of control. You stopped the memory as you pleased and focused on the details you wanted to see. Exactly how much are you able to do, once you have been allowed into the mind of another person?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” Dreamer confessed. “After first discovering my power, I could only see others’ memories through their perspective. But ever since we spoke with Optera, it’s been different. She said that she would increase my powers to make me able to do more than just watch. Since then, I’ve been able to explore other people’s memories more deeply. I’ve been a little afraid to find out just how deeply.”

  “Incredible,” Caper mused.

  “Yeah, it’s actually been helpful,” Dreamer said. “I practice with it whenever I visit my dad. He let me walk around in some of his most traumatic memories from the War. I’ve been able to offer another perspective, which I think has helped him process some of what was going on. He’s been very different since then… kinder and gentler.”

  Caper returned to looking out toward the clinic. “Perhaps someday you, like Healer, will be able to find a way to help other people with your unique gift.”

  “I’d like to. But I’m afraid of the pigs figuring out how to take it and use it for their own purposes instead.”

  “Well, I understand that fear all too well. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dreamer.”

  “Thanks, Professor. Have a good evening.”

  Chapter 9

  Back at her dormitory, Dreamer struggled to focus on her reading assignment. She leaned back and shut her eyes. Her mind was on other things. Too many unanswered questions. She made one more attempt to read. Once again, she found herself distracted. Defeated, she closed her book.

  She glanced at the wall clock. Just after four. Her roommate would be in class for another hour and a half. “Plenty of time,” she whispered to herself.

  Crossing the small room, she reached over the flower box on her windowsill. Blooms of all types and colors surrounded the centerpiece, a black and violet orchid. She pulled the curtain shut, darkening the room, and leaned close to her flowers.

  “Are you there?” she said in a hushed tone as her eyes began to glow purple. “I’d like to talk, just for a little while. If you can spare a minute for me.”

  The orchid flexed on its stalk, the center of the blossom glowing white. The flower turned this “eye” to face Dreamer.

  “I always have time for you, my child,” the orchid said in its comforting half-whisper, making her smile. It took a minute to study her face. “So many concerns. I am here to ease your troubles, young Dreamer.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “I’m thinking about a lot of things. Mostly the conversation I had with Professor Caper just now.”

  “Tell me.”

  Dreamer looked at Arghast and it all poured out. “I used to think everyone would be fine if they just kept their heads down and didn’t cross the pigs. I made myself believe that it was my own fault I’d drawn Scurvert’s attention, I was alone in being a victim, and that if I quietly built a normal life, I wouldn’t have any more trouble. When Healer led me to Ponder and Mauler, I wanted to do what was right for them, but I was so afraid that I was throwing that peaceful life away for good. I had thought we would have a reprieve when Ponder and Mauler gave themselves up. I thought I would be able to make that normal life. But now I’m even more sure that it will never be an option.”

  “Why is that?”

  She wiped an unexpected tear from her eye and looked down in shame. “A couple of reasons. For one, the pigs aren’t keeping up their end of the bargain. In the quarry, children are still disappearing. Now there’s some flimsy excuse about ‘mining accidents,’ but it’s obvious that Scurvert is still doing what he does. Second, I’m starting to see that there’s an undercurrent of anger in everyone’s lives. It was never only me that was attacked. Caper, Healer, everyone I know has been hurt in some way. Everyone is nursing a grudge. It’s going to get out of control someday. And now that I can see that the gods are actively working behind the scenes, I think that day is going to come sooner rather than later.”

  The orchid drew closer to her face. “I cannot reveal all things to you, but I will ask you to place your trust in me. I see all that the Megatropolis does. The Chugg Corporation, the pigs in charge of it, and the god behind them… they will all be handled in time. Do you understand, my Dreamer?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded.

  “Good,” Arghast said. “I think you already know all of this. I think your emotional conflict lies elsewhere. Allow me to guess what’s really troubling you.”

  Dreamer sighed, still failing to keep her eyes dry. “I doubt you ever guess about anything.”

  “The Healer occupies your thoughts. Your concerns about the state of society are all framed around him. You feel guilty that you are surprised at his success.”

  She bit her lip, trying to ignore the warmth in her cheeks. “That’s true. I really didn’t think he would be able to get it together long enough to have a career. Especially since he stormed out of University. He’s a spot of hope. If he can build a real life in this society, anyone can. I just… I hope it’s real. I hope Caper is wrong. I hope Healer finds some peace. I know that sounds ridiculous.”

  “There’s nothing ridiculous about it, dear Dreamer. You’re in love. You wish for good things for him. It’s perfectly natural.”

  Dreamer fixed him with a direct look. “How do you know?”

  “You are not the only one who can read emotions, Dreamer. I see all and know all.” The flower went silent, thinking. “Would you feel better about things if you knew he was well?”

  “Yes. Much better. I’ll feel like the world isn’t about to end.”

  “Will you speak to him?”

  “If he’s finally ready to be realistic about what we can do in life, I’ll have a conversation with him. For sure. I’ve resolved not to make myself vulnerable until then.”

  “Fair enough. What would you do in the meantime? What would you do to put him at peace, to ease your own mind? Anything at all.”

  Dreamer mulled it over for a minute. “I can think of something, but it’s silly. Here I am accusing him of not being realistic, while I daydream about things that can’t happen.”

  “I said, anything at all.”

  She bit her lip again. “If Healer could have had one last chance to speak with his father, I think a lot of this trouble could have been avoided. If he had so
me reassurance, a way to make peace with his father’s death, I bet that would make Caper wrong.”

  “A last word with the Old-Timer. You know, young Dreamer, that is well within the realm of possibilities. I can give him that. A gift from you, so he will know that you care.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “Dreamer, I’ve told you many times that you are my special one. When the time is right… when it is needed most… Healer will see the Trampler again.”

  Chapter 10

  Healer kept an eye toward the eastern sky as he cleaned up his clinic for the evening.

  The sun was settling down behind the quarry wall by the time he finished his task. He ate his fill of grass in the yard and retired to his quarters upstairs. He opened his bedroom window and waited, staring at the Megatropolis skyline.

  In the fading light, he could not see them until they were inside his property line. Four yellow birds, each holding onto a rope. He stared hard at the object they carried between them, a lump forming in his throat.

  He beckoned them through his open window. The Flaxers brought their load in and set it on the floor in the middle of the bedroom.

  “Damn it,” Healer said. “Damn it, damn it.”

  Mr. Flaxer sighed. “We’ll be going, I guess.”

  His wife nodded. “You boys go ahead. I’m going to talk with him for a minute. See you at home.”

  The husband and sons departed the way they had come, leaving Mrs. Flaxer alone with Healer and the stack of sealed letters bound with twine on the floor.

  Healer picked up the stack with a shaking hoof. “None of them are opened. Not a single one.”

  Mrs. Flaxer opened her beak to say something, but Healer threw the package across the room. The bundle came apart upon hitting the far wall, scattering envelopes all over the floor. Healer turned his wrath on his desk and chair before sitting down in a defeated slump.

  After taking a minute to compose himself, he raised his head and stared at the blank wall. “Did you see them?”

  “I…”

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  “… Yes. It’s bad.”

  “Just tell me, Mrs. Flaxer. Not knowing, not hearing from them, is killing me.” He looked at her.

  “Well, they haven’t hurt Ponder. But Mauler… I think they’re keeping him weak so he can’t break out. He’s shaved in places and there are electrodes stuck in his skin where they shock him. There are drill holes in his skull. Surgical incisions in his back and belly. He can barely move. I’ll never forget it. Just thinking about it…” Overcome, the bird put her head under her wing and cried.

  Healer reached out and held her little body with one hoof. “Thank you, Mrs. Flaxer. Go home and get some rest.”

  After she was gone, he sat on the floor and gazed at the empty wall where his desk had been for another several minutes while he processed what he had just heard. Gathering his thoughts, he set the desk upright and picked up the telephone that had been thrown to the floor.

  Chapter 11

  Swill eyed his restless assistant as the two sat on either side of the stainless steel surgical table. Between them, Mauler lay on his back, bound, motionless, disinterested.

  “Tuck, I need you to concentrate,” Swill said. “I don’t know what’s disturbing you, but you know the consequences if our work is sloppy.”

  The younger pig’s pudgy cheeks flushed. “Sorry, sir. I’ll do better.” He moved to organize a number of surgical instruments on a tray, but fumbled it all to the floor.

  “What’s the matter, Tuck?” Swill asked in a sharper tone.

  Tuck shook his head as he bent down to retrieve the dropped items. “I j-just don’t understand why.”

  “Why, what?”

  “Why we’re doing it this way. We don’t need to cut into this creature. We don’t need to do what we plan to do. A bunch of brainless clones would work just as well.”

  “Oh, Tuck…” Swill sagged in his chair, removing his glasses so he could rub his eyes. “You don’t understand. You’re right, we could do it that way, but Mr. Chugg will not have it. He insists.”

  “But why?”

  “Because he hates the sheep, Tuck. He wants them to suffer for what’s happened. And all you and I can do is go along. Or we’ll be on the receiving end of that wrath, too.” Swill sighed. “It’s them or us, Tuck. If that helps. Now, can you—”

  A knock on the metal door interrupted him, and he stood to answer it. But whoever had arrived did not bother to wait. The door swung open a second later.

  “W-Warden Guz,” Swill stammered, taking a step back. “Good to see you.”

  “Yeah, you look real pleased,” the piebald pig said with an ugly grin, sauntering into the sterile room. As always, he was flanked by a pair of bulldogs.

  “What’s the purpose of this unexpected visit?”

  The sight of the warden seemed to shock Mauler back to life. He gave a yowling roar that rattled the glass bottles on the shelves beside him. He writhed powerfully against the restraints around his wrists and ankles, his orange eyes staring at Guz with an intensity that made all of them nervous. Next to Mauler, Tuck wheeled his rolling chair back a couple of feet. The tray shook in his grasp.

  Everyone waited until Mauler had spent his energy and quieted down.

  “Inspection,” Guz said, still looking at Mauler. “The boss thought I should check in on your progress. We heard the last attempt was another failure. He is keenly interested to know how you’re going to make the next one better.”

  Swill forced a grin. “Well, you picked a great time to come down. The last form had more of a warthog frame, but that couldn’t support the volume of musculature that Mauler has. It collapsed on itself. So, we’re going to be taking some bone matter to figure out how to achieve his skeletal density for the next iteration.”

  Guz bit his lip with anticipation. “Sounds painful.”

  Swill kept a straight face, managing to wince only on the inside. “It will be agonizing. We’re going to be extracting from the femur first. Tuck, prepare the surgical site.”

  No one spoke while the assistant shaved and sterilized a spot on Mauler’s hip. Tuck had to stop and calm his shaking hands a few times. He was gritting his teeth so hard that Swill could see a vein protruding at his temple. When Tuck was finished with the preparatory steps, Swill joined him and picked up a scalpel.

  Mauler’s eyes remained on Guz even while Swill made the incision and exposed the bone surface, even as Tuck picked up a drill.

  Guz gulped. “Tough guy, huh? And I came all this way down to hear you scream.”

  Mauler’s smile was so vicious that Swill paused.

  “I considered giving you that satisfaction,” the hairy beast said. “But my thoughts are elsewhere.”

  “Yeah?” Guz took a step closer. “Are we boring you? We could take a few extra steps, you know, and make this procedure more engaging for all of us.”

  “Don’t bother. I’m just thinking about how you’re going to wish you had treated us with kindness. When my creator Karkus interferes at last, and you pigs are at my mercy, I won’t have to hold you to account for your cruelty. I have a feeling you will do that on your own.”

  Tuck had heard enough. The drill clattered back onto the tray. “Alright, that’s it. I can’t.”

  Swill rounded on him. “Tuck, calm down. We need that sample.”

  “I’m not doing this. He’s right. We’re going to regret this. I already do.” Tuck stood up and backed away from the table. “I’m out. I quit.”

  Guz raised an eyebrow. “Are you refusing to do what the boss asks of you?”

  “Y-yes.”

  Mauler turned his head. “Little pig, don’t draw the Chugg Corporation’s anger on my account. I know who is responsible here. Do what you must.”

  Tuck kept moving backward, past Guz and his dogs.

  “Grab him,” the warden ordered. As the two bulldogs took hold of Tuck’s shoulders in their teeth, Guz reached for
the phone on Swill’s desk.

  “Wait, Guz, let me reason with him,” Swill pleaded. “He’s just lost his nerve.”

  “Yeah, and I haven’t forgotten what happened the last time he did,” Guz snapped. “One of my men almost got killed. This is the final straw.”

  Tuck tried to pull free. “This is too much and you know it. We shouldn’t even be making this clone. What we’re doing here is evil. Tell him, Swill.”

  Swill said nothing.

  Mauler’s face softened. “Let him go, Warden.”

  “Shut up.” Guz dialed an extension and waited. “Hi, sir. It’s the warden. Yes sir, Swill is on track. He’s not the problem this time. It’s the assistant. He’s gone weak on us. Right, not for the first time. What should I do with him?”

  Not a sound could be heard in the lab as Guz listened.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll have him brought right up.” Guz hung up the phone and turned to the guards. “Take him to Headquarters. The boss wants to talk to him.”

  Tuck’s eyes went wide. “The hell he does!” He kept shouting as the bulldogs pulled him down the hall. “This is wrong! Swill, don’t finish the project! Swill!”

  His voice cut off as a door closed somewhere out of sight. Swill looked up at Mauler, whose face gave away his horror and disgust.

  Guz stared through the doorway for a minute, then turned to Swill. “Get it done,” the warden hissed. “No more delays.” He stomped out of the lab, leaving Swill and Mauler alone.

 

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