Break the Bastion

by Christopher Rankin

  …

  That night, Lucas’s mother arranged his regular set of nineteen pills in a neat line on his bedside table while he got ready for bed. She made sure he swallowed each one with a sip of water. Then she turned on the humidifier across the room.

  Just before she left, she remembered a new medication he was supposed to begin that night. She held out the home-pressed, yellow-jacket-colored horse pill.

  “I don’t want it,” Lucas told her. “None of this makes me feel any better.”

  His mother sat next to him on the bed. “That’s the disease talking,” she told him. “Some diseases can take over your sense of will even. If you ever want to get any better, we have to take care of the inflammation.”

  Lucas started with the first syllable of his argument but a fit of coughs and wheezing stopped him. So he just nodded instead.

  “It’s my mission in life,” his mother told him, “to make you feel better. No disease is going to take my son from me. I don’t care if the disease has a name or not.” She put her hand on his cold, clammy forehead. “It’s just the two of us in this awful life. It’s us against the world. Isn’t that right, my little one?”

  Lucas hesitated before agreeing. “I guess,” he said.

  “Have you been talking to your owl? We had to sign a contract that said you would.”

  “I have. A little.”

  “Good,” said his mother. “I’m glad you have a friend that isn’t one of those awful beasts from the schoolyard. Spending time with them is a waste of your time.”

  “I guess so,” Lucas answered, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  His mother glanced over to the owl on his dresser. The machine sat there totally still, not even the faintest sound or corpuscle of light beaming from its electromechanical body.

  “I have to admit it’s pretty odd for a toy. Doesn’t look like it does much either. Still,” Aura went on, “they’re paying me and I have you to thank for that.” She let a kiss linger on his forehead before she left.

  After she shut the door and the room went dark, Lucas found the owl’s eyes. The glow from the two spots was nearly imperceptible at first. Then it got brighter.

  “What are you looking at?” Lucas asked the thing.

  “We’re looking at you, Lucas,” said the owl. “In the future,” said the machine, “please call us Strix.”

  Lucas crawled to the foot of his bed to be closer. “OK,” he said. “I’ll call you Strix. Where does that name come from?”

  “It is the name we’ve chosen for ourselves.”

  “What is this experiment?” Lucas asked the thing. “Why was I chosen?” He looked down at his bloated body and, with a sad sigh, asked, “What do you want to know? What it’s like to be fat and sick all the time?”

  The light behind Strix’s eyes dimmed just a little, as though Lucas had made the thing sad. “Why do you think you’re ill so much?” it asked.

  “How the hell should I know? I’m not a doctor and it’s not like they could figure it out either. Why would you even ask me that?”

  “You already have the answer,” said Strix. “Unfortunately, that’s all we can say for now.”

  “Most advanced artificial intelligence, huh. You don’t seem to make a lot of sense to me.”

  “You’ll understand everything in time,” said Strix. “We wish this whole thing didn’t have to be so confusing for you.”

  “The other boy, Morgan, from school, he was chosen too. What do we have in common?” He ended up answering himself, saying, “we both lost one of our parents.”

  “That was an important criterion,” admitted Strix.

  Lucas was already curious about the third test subject, asking, “Who is it? Does she go to my school too?”

  “No,” answered Strix. “The third test subject attends Thornbury Private School up the hill on New Mountain. In the future, the three of you will become quite important to one another.”

  …

  Chapter 6

  Mushroom Puss

  A few days later, Callista was in her bedroom, reading a history book about the construction of the Bastion. It was a dusty rare book from the Old World that had sat on her shelf untouched for years. Her father had given it to her when they first moved to their home.

  For some reason, that evening, she had felt the urge to page through it and smell the must.

  The book’s sixth chapter discussed how the Bastion not only protected the East Coast but also most of the Plain States and West Coast of the continent. Without the Bastion, the Atlantic and Pacific would distort the Earth’s tectonic plates even further and perhaps meet in North America’s plains. This was the reason, the book claimed, that Bastion region was essentially immune from the growing civil war.

  Strix was watching from the nightstand.

  Her father interrupted at the door. He asked if it was a good time to talk. Before she could answer, he stretched out on her bed and slapped the mattress next to him, indicating she should join him.

  “That book is why I moved us here,” he said, when she slid beside him. “The only safe place from the war is right by the Bastion. The Western Forces would be crazy to bomb us.”

  Callista said, “It just doesn’t seem possible. How could a whole continent be drowned in a few minutes? A whole continent?”

  “Unstable tectonic plates,” he told her. “If the Bastion went, some people say we’d have another Great Shift. Who really knows, though.”

  “New Mountain, the land under this house is like a fresh wound. The Earth probably wants to heal.”

  He laughed in the form of a chuckle and a whisper. “I can’t say that’s wrong,” he said, before adding, “It did give us our great view up here.”

  Something in his voice bothered her. Callista knew the flutters and ripples in the sound of his voice like a concert cellist knew her instrument. His smell was off as well. He hadn’t touched his aftershave and stunk like stale nervous sweat. His clothes were wrinkled and he hadn’t shaved.

  “I haven’t seen you in the past couple of days,” She said. “It’s not like you. I’ve been worried.”

  “My girl doesn’t need to worry.”

  He didn’t comment on what was bothering him. Instead he pulled her closer and burrowed his face into her neck. Callista just quietly stared out the window, straight to the blinking beacon on the Bastion. He stroked her arm the way he always did, taking a serpentine route up with his fingertips, then glancing gently back down with his nails.

  After a while she asked him what he was thinking about.

  “Evil,” he said.

  “Why would think think about such a thing?” She asked. “Is something going on? Did you find out about something at work?”

  Callista’s father was the chief technical officer of the Eastern Force’s primary military contractor. His company developed and manufactured most of the attack helicopters and airplanes used to bomb the Western Front in Nevada. With his top secret security clearance and connections, he typically knew of important war matters before the public.

  She went on, “I know you can’t tell me anything specific but give me a hint or something. Please.”

  He took a deep breath and sighed, saying, “It’s not the war.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “There are people we’re incapable of understanding, Callie. No matter how hard we try. I wish I could tell you more. I really do.”

  “Do I need to be afraid?”

  “No, honey,” he whispered. His face looked as though a spider was crawling up his back. “Of course there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  Strix was seated on her nightstand next to them. Before Callista could ask anything further, her father changed the subject to the owl.

  He said, “The thing doesn’t seem to do much.”

  “He lights up and talks when I’m alone. It’s really quite amazing.”

  “What does he talk to you about?”

  “Random stuff,” She said, shrug
ging her shoulders. “I don’t get any of this at all. You really don’t know anything about this experiment or why Blaise Lorrance is involved?”

  “All I know is the old man is really interested in you. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure he hasn’t gone a bit senile. He seems a bit off to me. Sometimes I swear he’ll stare off into empty space like he’s listening to a ghost. I’m not sure if this whole experiment is just a sign he’s losing it.”

  “You seemed nervous around him. It’s not like you. Is he dangerous or something?”

  His hand stilled from stroking her arm. He gripped her shoulder, telling her, “It’s not Lorrance or his toys I’m worried about.”

  “Tell me. I thought we shared everything.”

  “Someone Lorrance knows. I should say works for. I won’t say his name because I don’t want the words inside your mind. There are monsters in this world, Callista.”

  ...

  That night, at the foot of the Bastion, Morgan was speaking to his Strix. Brian was asleep, wearing a set of rubber earplugs across the room. Killian was passed out on the couch downstairs with the television volume turned all the way up to drown out the hiss of the ocean.

  Morgan sat on the edge of his bed, his legs crossed and his body leaning toward the owl.

  “I know where that private school is,” Morgan told Strix. “When should I go?”

  “You will go tomorrow,” said Strix. “You and Lucas will go together.”

  “Why? Why do I need to go with him? I barely know the kid.”

  Strix didn’t answer the question. He just told Morgan, “Leave after school ends tomorrow.”

  “How am I supposed to find this girl? I don’t know anyone at that place. You haven’t even told me her name.”

  “Her name is Callista. Callista Ellerly.”

  “So I’ve got her name. Am I supposed to just stand outside and shout it out?”

  “You’ll find Callista on top of the main building at four o’clock. She’ll seem familiar to you.”

  “If I don’t know her, why would she be familiar?”

  “That’s a difficult question to answer, Morgan. However, we can be more specific about her location if that’s helpful.”

  “Yeah, just a little.”

  “You will find her on the roof at four PM.”

  “How do you know that and why would anyone be on the roof?”

  “Thank you for your help, Morgan,” said Strix. “Your participation in this experiment is quite valuable. We very much appreciate your cooperation. You should begin your sleep cycle soon. It’s getting late.”

  “So I guess that’s just the end of discussion.”

  “We’re afraid so, Morgan. Please sleep well.”

  ...

  The following day, Morgan told Lucas to hurry up as they walked up the pedestrian path to Thornbury Private School. Lucas was panting and sweating from the effort. His voice was so hoarse he could barely speak.

  “I’m sorry,” he struggled to tell Morgan. “I’m going as fast as I can.”

  “It’s OK,” Morgan told him, slowing his pace to allow him to catch up. “I guess I’m just in a hurry.”

  When they reached the top of the inclined walkway, acres of pristine grass and dozens of gothic buildings with crawling ivy spanned their vision. Wealthy kids, with beaming smiles of perfect health, formed clusters around the grounds. A few teachers were reading aloud to students in the shade of the trees.

  “Looks a little different than what we’re used to,” commented Morgan.

  “Damn, they have their own aquarium,” said Lucas.

  “Rich bastards,” said Morgan. He started to walk toward what looked like the main building. “Strix said this girl we’re looking for will be standing on the roof.”

  “Why would anyone be up there?” Asked Lucas, angling his head to see. The roof was steep and there was almost nowhere to stand. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “That’s because there’s no one there. That’s because this is nonsense.”

  “Why would Strix tell us to come?”

  Morgan stopped, saying, “How the hell would a stuffed animal tell the future. How does that thing know where someone is going to be standing? It’s ridiculous.”

  “Then why are we here?”

  Morgan looked frustrated, turning back to Lucas and saying, “Because I hate being home and I’ll do anything to get out of the house.”

  “Why? What’s so bad at your house?”

  “Never mind it,” Morgan told him. “It doesn’t matter. Maybe this girl goes here. We’ll ask around. Someone has to know her.”

  They walked through the courtyard and Morgan asked every girl he saw about Callista Ellerly. Lucas found it remarkable what Morgan’s smile and shoulders could do. Nearly every one was friendly and welcomed his attention. However, none knew Callista or where to find her.

  One girl did say, “Oh, yeah. She goes here. I’m pretty sure she’s in gym with me. Never talked to her. I don’t think I’ve ever even gotten a good look at her. I do know she has black hair.”

  No one seemed to know anything else.

  As they got closer to the school’s main building, more students took notice, whispering and staring at the two strangers on their grounds. At first, no one said anything to them. However, when they got to the front of the main building, a group of boys blocked their path.

  “What are you doing here?” One of the boys asked as he slid his fingers through a mop of wispy blonde hair. He and the rest of the private school boys were wearing their uniforms, blue slacks, white button-down shirts and crimson ties with the school emblem. The other boys just stared at Lucas and Morgan. “Hey! We asked you something!” the blonde boy said when he received no answer.

  “Yeah, I heard you,” Morgan told him, looking the boy square in the eye.

  Lucas started to sweat and his hands trembled at the confrontation. He took a step back from the group of boys.

  Morgan, however, not only kept his ground but took a step closer to the group. “I don’t need your shit, you little rich bitch. Why don’t you and the rest of your little sorority go back to jerking each other off.”

  The next moment took everyone in front of the building by surprise. All of a sudden, Lucas’s belly made a rumbling sound that everyone could all hear. Then they heard the first heave from Lucas’s stomach.

  He vomited like the pale yellow chunky fluid was being pumped out of his mouth. The sour smelling puke hit the group of boys, spilling on their shoes and sending them into heaves.

  “You, nasty piece of shit!” The blonde boy hollered at Lucas. “You, fat clod!”

  “Sorry,” mumbled Lucas, as he caught his breath from the effort. His entire front, from his shirt collar to his shoes, was covered in pale yellow vomit.

  He started to heave again. This sent the group of boys in the other direction. They shouted and cursed but left Morgan and Lucas standing there.

  “Nice job,” said Morgan. “That got them off our backs. Are you alright by the way?”

  “Um hmm. Fine,” said Lucas. “We should probably see if Strix is right before they come back.”

  “Fine,” said Morgan. “We’ll check the roof. No one is going to be there though. This is obviously just a wild goose chase.”

  The building’s main corridor was wrapped in old wood, with oil paintings and old photographs of generations of former financial donors. The architecture had been designed to harken back to the old East Coast universities, long under salt water. The surroundings seemed a time machine of sorts, a teleportation device to take the students to the time before the floods and the Bastion.

  The students at the private school were still filing up and down the wide, marble-plated staircase as Lucas and Morgan made their way to the roof. To get to the top, they had to jump a few feet and pull their way up on the custodial ladder. The feat provided no challenge to Morgan who, with just a flick of his calves, had himself dangling from th
e first bar. Then, like a gymnast, he propelled his legs up and climbed the ladder.

  Lucas, panting with the vomit on his face, knew there was no chance. He stared up the corridor at Morgan, saying, “You may as well be asking me to jump over the Bastion.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Morgan asked him. “I guess I’ll look for a way to drag you up. No offense or anything, man, but I dunno.”

  Morgan felt a strong salty breeze and heard seagulls squawking against a booming hiss. There wasn’t much space to stand on the roof before it fell off into a steep and untenable angle. A few chimneys and exhaust fans made up a miniature labyrinth, piping out hot air and kitchen smells.

  It didn’t take long for the sound of the ocean to go from loud to overwhelming, vibrating his head until he was nauseated.

  Morgan saw her sitting just on the edge, with her charcoal hair tied back from the wind and her eyes pressed into the lenses of binoculars. “Callista,” he said barely out loud. He was surprised she heard him over the sound of the ocean.

  “I’m fine. Don’t tell anyone I’m up here,” she said, without even a twitch in the binoculars.

  She was staring out at the Bastion, her focus angled to the top of the giant wall, where the mist from the crashing waves made a grey shroud.

  Morgan had heard times too numerous to count that the Bastion looked like the edge of the world. At that moment, he thought it had to be the edge of more than just the world, but the edge of nothingness.

  “How can you stand it up here?” He asked her when he got a few feet from where she was sitting. It was as close to the edge as he could stand without feeling his head start to spin.

  “How can you stand it down there?” She shouted over the sound of a crashing wave. Then she finally put the binoculars down and turned around.

  “You mean the pretentious and corny people?”

  “No,” Callista said with a just perceptible grin. “The quiet. I need a break from it sometimes.” She stood up without any attention to the edge. She was nearly as tall as Morgan. “You aren’t wearing a uniform,” she said.