by D M Robbins
“A mere three days.”
Tanz’s dim eyes grow wide. “Who were you speaking with?” he asks with shoulders slumped forward.
“That is no matter to you. Thank you, gentlemen,” he says to the guards. “They don’t speak but nod and grunt a bit. More than enough, I think. We’ve made them very strong empty vessels, beings incapable of guilt or remorse, so save yourself the trouble. Don’t ask or think you can persuade them to help you. They cannot. With a little help we’ve made them physical only by withdrawing certain DNA strands: a simple process really. Their minds are capable of basic survival: food, hunger, aggression, sex.”
Tanz looks over at me.
“How do you know of the toxins?” I ask, trying to right my brain.
“I know many things. One thing for certain is you will remain clouded then you will know nothing as darkness consumes your minds. I may even have you work for me. My little puppets. I have so wanted to meet you, but as you can understand it would not have been possible until now, as you are beneath my station and there had been no need. Can you imagine me spending time with a low-level accountant and a supermarket clerk?” He laughs to himself. “Absurd. I have wondered what the fuss is all about. Opponents of such high esteem, a boy and an old man.” He stresses with a mocking tone, shaking his head, bursting out laughing, slapping his knees.
“So menacing. Scary indeed.”
“We have names you know…” I say, trying to shake my head clear.
“Not for much longer you don’t.”
“But why fake your own murder?” Tanz inquires, holding up his head.
He smiles proudly. “I’ve never met anyone a little bad publicity couldn’t kill faster than a bullet.”
“But how will you run for Citizen Leader if people think you’re dead?” I ask.
“The news reports will have it wrong. I was only captured but escaped. If people believe their beloved leader is dead, they will be even more impressed that I can beat death. In fact, to them I would seem godlike. Perception is reality in this city of lies.”
He flips a switch and speaks into a mic on the wall intercom. “Play the video.”
A large monitor on the far wall shows him breaking free. The same newscaster from earlier reports, “It’s a miracle! Early accounts were wrong. Citizen Leader candidate Kimbel lives! He fought off and subdued his captives. Oh, praise the lord. Our nation is not lost.” The video shows him freeing himself then beating us up and kicking out the window of the limousine.
“You can do quite a bit with video software these days. We’ve shot a few of them. I’m not sure which one we’ll release. As you know, humans are easily led and not so evolved. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Tanz?”
“Why, yes, in fact, I would. You are a master manipulator indeed. Impressive calculations.”
I stare at Tanz and shake my head.
He stares back at me. “It is an impressive plan.”
“Oh, that is the greatest compliment a foe can receive: the sign of true respect when your opponent acknowledges he is defeated.”
Tanz shrugs at me.
“Oh yeah,” I say, trying to sound tough, “well, we’re still taking you down.”
“I respect your zeal, young man, yet that will prove an impossible task. All doors are sealed for you, quite literally and figuratively. For instance, my presidential opponent is only a puppet set up by my allies to assure people that the election is fair. And we have war on monitors from trusted ‘news sources.’ Base fear is the root of people’s decisions. If they trust that I am their protector and provider they will follow me down every dark path and whim, even if it is to kill their own mother because I showed them she was a traitor. Pitting people against each other is child’s play. Pitting people against their own interests also takes little effort. Yet being a politician does have its challenges.”
He pauses and sighs. “Divisiveness pays.”
Kimbel smiles. “After I’m Citizen Leader the people will eat out of the palm of my hand. No, in fact I’ll make them eat scraps from the floor!” He laughs. “And I will blame my enemies, saying there is no longer enough to go around.”
I shout, “But that’s not true!”
“They only know what I tell them, boy!” He stands, pointing at me, his tone harsh. “People succumb to fear. It rules them. It’s one of the strongest human emotions. They don’t want freedom. They want to be led!”
He calls someone on the phone. “Add another ten percent of the toxins to the dark forces. Get them riled up.”
Tanz rights himself. “How do you know about the dark forces, sir?”
Kimbel smiles. “I told you. I know many things.”
There are about a dozen monitors with faces mostly of men behind him, the heads of countries and corporations. A plaque beneath each state says who it is. All are watching this unfold.
He presses the intercom again. “Tell them to run more violence and war. Black, white, race, you know the drill.”
The screens on the side walls flash more blood, buildings exploding, bloodied children and mothers in the street of some war-torn nation.
“This taps into the basest impulse of the limbic system. We create war and more policing then create more laws to ensure safety in order for people to give up their rights. As if there are constant imminent threats that would erode laws and policy to protect them. They don’t understand that we are the ones they must fear and that we are the ones creating war!”
He looks at his nails and bites them. Then absently says, “I am to be king…”
“But this is a democracy!” I shout at him.
“Not of this silly country, boy, but of Earth! Don’t you feel it? I can feel it. King of Earth has a nice ring to it, yes? While the only thing you two will feel is life passing before your eyes. A pleasure it has been. Now take them away!”
The beefy guys with absent eyes untie us. Kimbel puts up his hand. We stop at the door. “Once the toxins have completed breaking down your DNA we will have you on a quick trial on the news then you will be sent to prison, but really we will have you killed. An accident or something will befall you. Perhaps suicide. I’ve not yet decided that part of your fate.”
He waves his hand. As the door closes we see him lift the sheet to that strange device.
TO THE TOXIC ROOM
Struggling to escape, but the hands of the big men are like steel vices we can’t budge. They don’t even shift their eyes when they throw us into a room to die. With the deadbolt locking, sprayers come on. I bang on the door but can’t hear them or tell if they’ve walked away. I guess that also means they can’t hear us scream.
I drop against the wall where Tanz is propped up.
“Take small breaths,” he says.
“I’m trying to…”
We both breathe through our shirts.
He attempts an equation but it collapses like sandcastles at the beach.
“I can’t hold them. I… I can’t equate. We’re losing strands.” Popping sounds come from within us like cracking fingers. He closes his eyes and passes out, his head droops to the side.
I am getting weaker too. My eyes blurring, burning, room spinning. I feel a snapping, like rubber bands drying and breaking within me.
That woman’s voice in my head speaks. “You must save him. He is dying.”
I fight to keep my eyes open but, heavy, they shut. I ram them open again, but they close, muscles too weak. I can’t raise my hands or open my eyes.
Memories of my Earth parents float in front of me, their images turning to dust. A popping in my neck causes my head to snap forward. We are going to die here.
“He does not have the warrior cells you do. Save him, Claremone. He stores and interprets our history.”
The toxins gnaw on my consciousness. I keep fighting but it’s winning, disorienting me. Confusion and doubts, despair and loneliness. I’m cold. So cold.
My head falls forward. I cannot lift it, but think the words, “Sun Clan, gods of
light, he has saved me. I must save him. Please hear my words. I ask for your help and guidance.” I slump against Tanz and pass into a dreamworld.
Floating off to the accident, I stand along the park road. The car with my parents approaches. We’d had a good day hiking. Most teens don’t like spending time with their parents but I did.
I peer in and see a smile on our three faces. Then the steering wheel locks. My father fights it. The car skids. Shadows pass over me, closing in. The day turns to darkness enveloping the car. I yell but they can’t hear me. I wave my arms, jump up and down, but they don’t see me. Fear fills their faces. I can’t help. They’re losing control. I’m stupid, ignorant, doing nothing in the backseat. Nothing to save them. I jump in front of the car, but it passes right through me.
Tires squeal. Darkness spreads, I smell sulfur and know it’s the evil dark forces laughing at me. The car slams into the evergreens on that empty park road. The shadows lift and sun returns. Banging on their windows. They’re dead. I’m not knocked out in the backseat.
Coffins in drawers pulled from the mortuary wall. Rigor mortis that were once my parents. Painful memories buried in cells swirl around. The mortuary is filled with haze balls as doctors wearing lab coats.
Loneliness and isolation, loss and defeat. Running now with my family in the onyx palace of Narican. Fear and terror, dark forces, too many of them. My father and mother, all of them disintegrated by dark blades of mist. I lived. They died. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I lived. I see the dark haze taking over, spreading. Narican and its people enslaved. I feel so cold. Death pulls me to join them.
“All is lost, boy. All is lost. As your life will soon be.” Kimbel’s voice speaks, but someone else is there, as if the palace itself has turned evil.
As the dream fades, a dark star pulsates hiding something buried deep in space.
I travel to my blood cells deep within and ride a cell inside my veins. The dream has switched again. I ride upon a red blood cell inside a running vein like a river. The river walls are turning gray. It’s the toxins I realize and try paddling away from the encroaching gray. The blood behind me is hardening turning gray like the lava pool. I feel sick, achy like a fever coming on. I will myself to paddle faster pulled toward the center of my body where my soul is stored. Gray matter fills the space, organs slowing, my lungs heavy, aching, heartbeat weakening. The blood behind me is gray and hardening.
Fanged monsters pop up from hardened cells as if demons from within me, within memories. The monsters rip up chunks of gray stone that feed them as they grow larger in size with each bite. They are multiplying. The monsters rise above as I shrink in weakness.
A pool of red like an oasis with hints of star dust, my soul sparkles awaiting in front. All veins and arteries, capillaries flow in and out with enriched blood are also graying at the edges of my soul. Colors of my soul, red, green, blues flash out, pulsating. These fanged beasts grow in numbers trying to get past me.
Confusion grows as one fanged beast gets into the soul area and begins gnawing. I quickly grow confused, disoriented as to who I am. I push the beast out and regain clarity.
Cell membranes gray in all directions. The glistening pool and red cell I’m balancing on are the only red left I can see. Each bite of hardened stone pains me. The beasts gnaw on my turned blood. I try fighting them off but more appear. I kick and use my feet but am weak, tired, sleepy. I can hardly lift them.
“Save Tanz. Save yourself. It rests on you Claremone.”
Tanz, oh shoot, right. I think, looking around at the situation. I forgot about Tanz and the room of toxin. His eyes closed next to me. I realize they want my soul to control me. Darken it. He saved me. I must save him. The blood cell I’m on grays and stops moving.
Snapping sounds are heard above as DNA links snap like bridges in a storm. Pieces fall of grayed stone. I clench my fist and feet, closing my eyes, focusing my mind, inhaling and blowing out one last powerful breath.
“I am Light Being… Narican Blood… Claremone of the Sun Clan,” I say, emptying my lungs… “I refuse the darkness. I say noooooooooooooooooooo to the dark forces. I am light!”
The ground begins rumbling. The top layers of gray stone crack and shoot up. Deep red blood fissures fire out of my soul center flooding every artery and vein. My blood begins to boil. Heat rising. Fanged beasts boil with the shooting gray stone plopping down into pure red blood. The graying walls crumble like rock faces shearing off splashing into the blood river. Red membrane walls pulsate with each new heartbeat. Boom-boom. Boom-boom. Splashing gray stones dissolve.
The cell that I stand upon boils. My muscles flex. Legs thicken. Focus sharpens.
My Narican cells boil the impure toxins. The soul pool overflows the banks with growing waves. A shaking and rumbling jostle me as if an earthquake.
A tidal wave rises above me. The pool of my soul grumbles angrily. My heart pounds. My skin walls shake furiously as if an eruption is taking place.
There’s pain and pressure as if wood and concrete are smashing my body. The tidal wave crashes and I ride the wave’s peak. I breathe choking, cold, feeling air on my skin, as if I’m in my body again.
My eyes open as I shoot thousands of feet into the sky through clouds past geese, seeing stars. I get my bearings looking down at the gaping hole in the state building roof, which gets smaller and smaller.
I shake my thoughts while shooting through the sky like a rocket. Holding Tanz, flying directionless, without guidance. We reach an apex above the cloud cover when gravity pulls us back, winning the battle. Trying to move my legs but can’t. Stiff and in pain like after a bad stomach flu. We come down fast, tumbling through the air. Tanz is unconscious in my arms. We fall fast approaching the ground. I can do nothing but aim my body, straighten myself out, sticking my head forward like a skydiver without a parachute.
We come down on an angle with my toes guiding us, missing buildings, twisting my body. We crash land on a pile of cut grass inside the gates of a cemetery. We tumble and bounce. I squeeze him tight, smacking into the cement base of a mausoleum.
The wind knocks out of me. “Ooph.” My pants are shredded, and shoes are burnt again. But we’re here. On the ground. With fresh air. I make sure Tanz is breathing by listening over his mouth. It’s faint. His chest is moving. He needs medical attention. I try to get up but fall down. It’s night. I grow dizzy and pass out.
MUST SAVE HIM
It’s still night when I wake. Tanz is next to me muttering angrily, sweating, bleeding from his forehead and hands. We need iron core crystals fast. I check the pockets of his khakis. Nothing. He’d said that was the last of it. But who did he call for more? I don’t know and can’t ask him. I’m weak and dizzy, propping myself up against the mausoleum base. The stars spin above. We seem to be in a more residential area. I notice high-end homes to the right, apartment buildings and storefronts in front and to the left.
I stare again at Tanz. What would he do? A splitting headache twists my eyesight. I notice again that my shoes and pants are burnt. Can’t go out in public like this.
I look again at Tanz. Necessary means, I think. Necessary means. Have no choice.
“Can you stay here?”
He doesn’t respond.
“Good, I’ll be right back.”
Hunched over, my stomach retches. I dry heave for a moment then walk onto a side road under a streetlamp past apartment buildings to find a phone booth directory. Scanning the P section, there’s a pharmacy nearby. I look at the street map in front of the book and rip out the page. Pull my shirt collar up, though it’s late—there shouldn’t be many passersby. And if there are, hopefully they won’t notice my pants hanging like window drapes and become alarmed.
I find the place and notice cars on the other side of the road with a few guys standing there watching me. It must be two in the morning. Possible dark forces.
I stare back at the four of them, not haze, but humans who look like trouble. Blue jeans, leather vest, o
ne guy has a mohawk. I’m alone but can’t worry about them right now. Tanz is dying and I may be too. There will be nothing left of Narican if we both die here.
I drag my burned feet and aching body to the store window. Red bricks surround a sapling out front. I glance at the guys but have no choice. Grabbing the brick, I smash the glass and toss it aside, quickly stepping inside to get my bearings. A few perimeter lights glow. Seeing “Pharmacy” in the rear I head back to where they store the pills. In front of large drawers, I scan the letters of the alphabet: iron, iron-multi, iron-nickel. I grab anything with iron in it snagging a reusable tote bag hanging from the closest aisle. On my way out, several waters are grabbed off shelves.
Into the main aisle sits a bin of work boots. Looking at my burnt shoes peeling off, I grab a pair and socks hanging next to them. I leave my burnt ones in exchange, walking out the way I came in.
No police come or alarm has gone off. I wonder if this is a trap. If the scouts already know we’re here.
Outside on the sidewalk I peer across the street then up and down the block—the group of guys are gone. My heart beats harder thinking they may have found Tanz. Knowing he was alone. I scuffle back to the cemetery half running half limping. It’s dark and Tanz is pale, breathing heavily under the moonlight. I wake him up and tell him I’ve got iron pills and drops, anything I could find. Blood red eyes open and he knocks my hand away. He stumbles to his feet, swinging fists like an untrained fighter.
“I don’t want to do this, Tanz.”
“You will die, Claremone.” His voice is menacing. The dark forces have him.
He attacks, pushing me over a gravestone.
I stand and punch him in the face, knocking him out. Jumping on top of him I open his mouth and pour iron-multi drops down his throat. I collapse next to him and open the bottles, propping him up.
“Here, take these. It’s not much but should help. Hopefully you’re not psychotic when you come to.”