Walled City (The Elabi Chronicles Book 1)

by Maressa Mortimer

  It is on a Fifday that Gax’s numbness and pleasant peaceful days are shattered. Many, many moons ago an earth shattering event took place on this day, when the Prince of Peace gave His life to bring peace into men’s hearts. Gax’s false sense of peace is shattered on this special Fifday. It might have been a special Fifday, but Gax only vaguely registers that when he gets up in the morning, as Yulra will tell him the date and the time each day. “Thanks Yulra,” he says, the tiny whisper in the back of his mind telling him that it’s a special day. Gax stops that thought, telling his mind sternly that every day is a good day and to have special dates sets one up for disappointment. He gets to the bookshop, just in time for work. Gax has become an expert in timing his arrival and he raises his chin at Grabus, who answers the greeting in kind. He no longer glares at Gax. Inritia is in the staffroom, still working on her nails, as there are a few minutes left before work starts. Gax gets a clean cloth out and soon he is dusting the first shelf of the day. He works carefully, still feeling satisfied over a job well done; Grabus and Inritia no longer make comments. It’s just the way Gax is, they say to each other.

  It is the end of the day. Gax is in the staff room getting his bag, filled with glass containers, as he plans to get his shopping in on the way back home. He is not looking forward to the walk home. Just as he puts his rucksack on, Inritia walks into the staffroom, looks at Gax then says casually, “At least you have stopped being as weird as you were at the beginning!” Gax stares at her. Is this meant as a compliment? “It was some old lady you know, who mentioned you to the city counsellor. It’s the same counsellor I use, so she asked me about you as well. Apparently you had helped the woman to search for some forbidden book, about animals of all things.” Inritia laughs, not a pleasant laugh, her cat-like teeth showing. “Then soon after that you talk to me about animals as well, cats or dogs or something.” She looks at him with derision, as if he should have known better. “Anyway, I told my counsellor the other day that you seemed more normal by the week and I think that woman who asked for the book just went Downstream recently.”

  Gax swallows trying to process her words. He remembers the old lady, wanting some book about a dog. Part of him that has lain dormant for moons, stirs a little. Inritia’s words almost physically hurt him, but he doesn’t quite know why. In order to distract them both, he decides to ask her, “How long have you had counselling for,” not wanting to end the conversation, but not willing to discuss pets.

  “For many moons now,” she answers, looking away. “I started a few moons after I entered the Nuptialem List.” Gax looks at her, frantically searching for the link between counselling and the List. “My teeth,” Inritia says, as if that makes the link clear as day. Gax looks at her mouth, confusion obviously still written all over his face, for Inritia rolls her eyes, then explains plainly, “My teeth are not standard. I should have had dental work done on them, but I just hate the dentist, and as a teenager I refused to go. Now it’s too late really. I couldn’t afford it anyway, even if I wanted to. So once I entered the List, I soon found out the huge mistake I made as a child, not having it done. Of course, nobody wants to risk their status, or their children’s status with obvious imperfections.” Her voice is bitter, and Gax looks away as he sees the tears in Inritia’s eyes. “Anyway, I started counselling to learn to overcome my feelings of inferiority and to accept that I will be on the Arranged List in a few moons’ time. My counsellor is helping me prepare for that at the moment.”

  Gax stares, there is an Arranged List? Is the arranged list what he thinks it is? All the hopeless cases that nobody wants to marry voluntarily get put together? And Inritia is about to be put on that list? In his head he has already named it the Hopeless Cases List. How that must hurt! Does that have social consequences? He asks her, just to clarify. She stares at him, her eyes still moist. “Of course. Having an obvious defect means your Status goes down, as you will be of less use to society. A strong, healthy society needs healthy members and the weak or deformed undermine that, everyone knows this.” Gax dips his head as Inritia continues in a lower voice, “My mother had already sent three babies Downstream. With me she allowed her emotions to get the better of her, so here I am.” Her voice is bitter and grabbing her bag she leaves the staffroom abruptly, the door shutting with a whoosh, Gax’s breath leaving him in the same way.

  He sits down heavily in the nearest chair, his glass containers clanging together. Three babies Downstream? Then Inritia’s initial words suddenly hit him, leaving him feeling very cold. He has become more normal, he has blended in completely. What was meant as a compliment suddenly rocks Gax’s world. All other thoughts leave him and this one thing spins round in his head. He has become a good Elabi citizen. He has denied his mission, denied his task as an operator and has just lived; lived for each passing day by himself, in his own strength, with no thought for tomorrow, no thought for what happens when time stops. Gax struggles to breathe and suddenly he knows he needs to get out, out of the city, away from prying eyes and people ready to report him. He needs to be alone, just him and the Lord. Now.

  Gax staggers out of the shop, already short of breath, already sweating, but not with the physical heat. When did he last talk with his Father? He has drifted away so far from his mission, forgotten how he trained as an operator and was sent to reach the people of Elabi. Instead the teachings of Elabi have influenced him, reaching into his heart and mind, numbing him, leaving him to live his life one day at a time. Gax walks past the guards, not even seeing them, using all his efforts to hold himself together. Once he is finally by himself in a covered area, he sinks down behind a bush, and allows the dams to break. Tears stream down his face, and between sobs he stammers bits of prayer, mainly saying sorry for what he has allowed himself to become. He feels like someone from the Book, all those ages ago, who on this same Fifday denied the Lord. Eventually he dries his face, feeling drained and exhausted, but somehow very much alive. There is a new type of energy rolling through his veins, reaching every part of him. A will to know the Lord, the power of His resurrection, remembered and celebrated every first day of the week, every Resurrection Day.

  Gax realises that he feels more ready than he has ever done in Elabi. It is as if he has lived under a shadow since arriving here. Part of him has been holding back, hiding, trying to blend in. He had been living in fear and in the end fear had ruled his life. He remembers his little Book, which he hasn’t seen for several moons. Ever since the cameras were installed, in fact even before, as the effort of unscrewing the large screen was too much for him. He groans, what a fool he has been! No wonder he has slipped up. He had left his one guidebook behind, doing it all under his own steam. He had forgotten and ignored all his training. At first he had been too proud, pleased with himself and his status as fully trained operator, sent on a dangerous and difficult mission. Then he had been filled with self righteous thoughts, looking down on the people of Elabi. He had been scared by various incidents, more aware of the council of Elabi watching him than God watching over him. Gax can feel his eyes prick with new tears, shame and guilt flooding his heart, weighing him down. Despair comes knocking on the door of his mind, telling him he has messed up big time. He doesn’t deserve to be an operator and anyway, it’s too late for that now. These people are beyond him.

  Gax looks at the blue sky above his head, luminous through his tears. Should he give up? Should he go home, confess his shortcomings, accept his failure as an operator? He could pass on what he has learned about Elabi and let a more stable minded operator complete the mission instead? Admit defeat, pack his things and sneak out the way he sneaked in? He remembers Linu explaining how difficult it had been to set up this opportunity for Gax. “I need to do my job.” Gax sits in the shade, his mind working overtime, words of his Book flooding his heart. The first thing he needs to do is retrieve his Book. Plans and ideas banish the doubts and recriminations from his mind. Gax is back, the Special Forces Operator, sent to Elabi on a mission. A mission
Gax is determined to complete, aware he will need God’s help through it all. In a couple of days it will be Resurrection Sunday and he, Gax, needs to remember that he is only able to do this through the power of His resurrection and that it is all about living in Him, being made conformable to His suffering, which is what this particular Fifday reminds him of. He has learned his lesson, he has learned how even an operator is vulnerable. Even the best trained Special Forces operator is only a tool, turning blunt and useless without constant sharpening. He has to first overcome himself and his own weaknesses, which is harder than taking a city.

  Gax gets up, ready to go to the shop, ready for action, ready to reach out and shake up people’s lives. And Gax needs to accept that the outcome is not for him to decide. His is a mission in faithfulness, not necessarily numerical success. It is Good Friday and Gax is ready to share the greatest Sacrifice, the greatest Gift with the people of Elabi. Whether they are ready to receive it or not.

  Chapter 27

  The feeling of freedom is incredible. It is as if a dark, heavy weighted blanket has been pulled off him. The skin around his eyes feels tender and Gax imagines himself grocery shopping with red eyes. He really wants to go straight home, to think and plan the next steps. He can’t mess up again, but he can’t barge in either. The plan had always been to stay low key, not rock the coracle too much. However, a change has to be made. Gax walks slowly, his throat still aching from his sobs. At the crossroads Gax hesitates. He does need groceries, but he also needs time alone, to think, pray and plot. He goes home.

  Gax puts his rucksack in the kitchen, without unpacking or changing anything, aware that the cameras are watching him. He sets down the bag quietly, trying to avoid the glass containers making too much noise. He hopes that whoever does the watching takes turns, as the morning watchers would have seen him putting the containers in his bag. He slowly drinks a cold drink in the kitchen, wondering where the best place would be to think and pray. He is sure that the downstairs camera is a dual one, covering the entire room and kitchen area. Meaning that if he sits on the sofa they will be able to see him. The upstairs one is more likely to be a simpler one, just covering his bedroom. For a moment he wonders what would happen if he stayed on his landing, but he doesn’t want to raise their suspicion just yet. Gax thinks about his bedroom’s layout, then grins, satisfied.

  He goes upstairs, tells Yulra to play his favourite music, and opens the shutters next to the large screen telly, right underneath the camera. By looking out of the window, the camera will not be able to see his face. Of course, the person watching him outside might, but Gax isn’t too worried about that, he makes sure the shutters are keeping his face in the shade. He hasn’t ever seen the person watching him, only sensed someone watching him. He has no idea how far away they are, or whether they will still watch him, as there are cameras in the house. “Turn the music up a bit, Yulra,” he smirks, “some of these summer cicadas are so loud, I can’t hear!” His Automated Servant complies immediately and Gax is sure that any whispered prayers will stay undetected. If only he could get to the Book, but that will have to wait.

  He breathes in the hot air, taking breaths, quietening his heart and his head. And he prays, pours out his heart, his failures and self reliance, asks for guidance, wisdom, courage and discernment. He has to be harmless as a dove, but wise as a serpent.

  Gax sets off to the gymnasium with no concrete plan in his mind. Yet he is filled with anticipation as he is no longer bound by fear. It is busy in the gym, but Gax hardly notices. He is working hard, putting in a lot of effort, the physical exertion helping to clear his mind. When he walks into the cooling down room he spots Caecilia straight away and he manages to get a mat near her. She avoids eye contact, as usual, but Gax insists and manages when they’re both stretching. Her eyes look shinier than ever, damp, but she shakes her head, almost imperceptibly. At the same time she holds eye contact that little bit longer, making Gax realise that she wants contact, but can’t, at least not here. He gives her the tiniest of winks that could have been a slight twitch, but has to do some complex twisting and pulling to keep himself from grinning when he sees her blush! It does his heart good though and on the way to the shop he finds himself humming hymns, quietly of course. It feels like another answered prayer, the tiniest of tokens that he is not alone.

  The big guy in the shop glares at him when Gax takes his groceries to the counter, raising his chin cheerfully. The man takes a breath as if he is going to say something, then he changes his mind. Gax feels a tiny thrill, he is back in the game, people are noticing the difference again and the man almost asked a question! Instead, Gax asks him one, “Got any plans for Hexaday and Enday?” The young man looks at him, stunned and clearly doesn’t know how to respond. In the end he grunts something, which could be yes or no.

  He tells Gax the cost of his shopping, still looking dazed. Gax feels for the young man. “Anywhere you’d recommend for these hot days?” He asks, trying again, for a conversation, a connection. The man shrugs and mumbles that the beach usually works on a hot day. Or the hills. Gax stares then. “People go there, like, on a trip?” Gax is shocked, but also curious. Would he be able to see the ones sent beyond the hills? Gax is getting interested and the man notices.

  He laughs, a scornful laugh, “Yeah, just don’t get lost and go beyond them, you’re weird enough!” Gax can feel his face go warm, an unpleasant feeling, one he hasn’t felt for a while and he almost wants to do something to make the young man change his mind about him. He wants to be liked, thought of as normal, blend in. Only for a second though, then Gax accepts that this is the way it is. He is different, but he wants to be, needs to be in fact. So he smiles broadly at the man behind the counter and thanks him for the groceries as well as the ideas for something to do.

  Then he leaves the shop, the young man staring after him, curious; scornful but also slightly shaken. Gax is unaware, walking home with his shopping, wondering if he did the right thing. He struggles to accept that small knocks are all he can do at the moment, chipping away at people’s hearts and minds. He is glad it’s the weekend, as he needs time to recover, to regroup. He needs to think and get his mind back on track. Hexaday will give him time to think and pray more and Enday will be special again too; it needs to be. Gax needs it to be special, to be a day of rest in more than one sense. His soul needs to rest and recharge, ready for Onesday. Part of him shrinks away from the thought of Onesday, having to go to work, meet Grabus and Inritia again, the customers. It’s hard to be thought of as weird and different. At first it had felt like a badge of honour and Gax had been chuffed, feeling proud that they’d spotted the difference. Then he had grown weary of the harsh looks and nasty comments, of people shrinking away.

  Now he isn’t sure. “Lord, I want them to see the difference, but in a positive way. I want them to ask the right questions too.” Maybe someone will finally want to know what is different about him. Gax’s mind drifts off. He can just imagine people begging him to tell them how they can become like him. His mind stops there, as he remembers the guard by the fountain. He had known and understood, but had no interest. Gax has to remind himself that he has his mission to fulfil and the outcome is not his responsibility. He does need to have a plan, but has two days to come up with a strategy. Part of him is excited, this is what he trained for. But part leans back in fear, the outline of the hills, black against the evening sky vivid in his mind.

  Onesday comes soon enough, Gax realises on his way to work. He raises his chin at people he meets, smiling. Most of them stare back. One young woman raises her chin back almost as enthusiastically, then looks round, as if horrified by what she had just done. Gax keeps his warm, gentle smile on, but only with great effort. Not one person reacts in the way people at home would do. Grabus narrows his eyes the moment Gax raises his chin at him, staring after Gax as he walks to the staffroom. Inritia is there, looking tired. She takes one look at Gax and rolls her eyes. “I knew it! I saw it in your eyes on Fifday,
” she says, but not really maliciously. More in a resigned way, as if she has given up hope of him being sensible. “It was the way you looked when I said you were less weird. I did actually mean that as a compliment. But you’re weird all over again. Just don’t get yourself sent off.” Gax smiles at her, she really does look tired.

  “Thanks,” he says, “you look tired. Been partying too much?” He regrets his foolish, flippant words immediately, for Inritia looks away to hide her tears.

  “My name is on the list,” she says, in almost a whisper. Gax sits down, feeling an idiot. Poor Inritia, no wonder she looks tired.

  “Is the List compulsory?” he asks.

  Inritia nods, “Yes. Once you put your name forward onto the Nuptialem List you automatically go onto the Arranged List after a while.” She looks miserable and Gax feels a spark of anger in his heart. “Once they find a match, someone with a suitable score, they will let you know. If you refuse, you will get…interviewed.” Her voice stumbles a bit over the word interview, and Gax suspects that it isn’t a nice experience. “You can’t just reject the match for no reason, you have to be logical and rational about it all,” she tries to sound as if it’s all very normal and acceptable, but Gax can tell how much she struggles. No matter how good your counsellor is, there is only so much they can talk you into, he thinks.

  “That must be hard,” he says and Inritia lifts her chin, trying to look defiant, but her eyes fill up with tears again when she sees Gax’s genuine care and concern. “I’ll be…” he almost said ‘praying for you, but he catches the words just in time! “I’ll be thinking of you, hoping that the right man will come along. Marriage can be such a beautiful thing, such a blessing. The Arranged List might feel hard to bear, but I hope it will turn out to be the best thing for you.” He looks at her. He has never really liked her, but feels bad for her now. He asks about the three babies sent Downstream.