by RMGilmour
I watched Lena and Haize exchange glances. I couldn’t decipher their meaning, but there was something they weren’t telling me.
“The Guardian is a part of the Central Unit that was specifically designed to protect it,” Haize explained, but I already knew that, and I spread my hands toward her in frustration, needing more detail, though she continued before I could speak. “It has developed its own level of consciousness. It created the wards, controls them, most of them, in every way possible.”
“Created the wall too,” Lena said.
“And the wall around the planet,” I added. They looked surprised that I knew. “Jordan told me. He was explaining where the pretty sunsets come from.”
“Yes,” Haize laughed. “But the shield around the planet is the Central Unit, not the Guardian. It just makes it stronger.”
“And if we destroy the Guardian, the walls, the wards, we leave the Central Unit vulnerable,” I said.
“Yes,” Haize responded. “Unless we destroy it too.”
“If we do that we’ll be destroying their way of life,” I stated, pointing in the direction of the city. “What gives us the right to do that?”
“What gives them the right to bring us here and then leave us to be picked off and slaughtered,” Lena argued.
“I don’t believe the people in there know.”
“And you believe this why, because you got lucky?” Lena argued. “Most of us were brought here by the machine, not by someone reaching out across spacetime looking for their heart’s desire. We weren’t given a choice. You wanted to come. We were brought here against our will.”
I couldn’t argue with her. But at the same time, I didn’t believe it was the Central Unit that was deceiving them. Maybe the Guardian, but not the part of the Unit that was designed to give them life and happiness. It had shown me this while I was in the city.
“Someone’s coming from the Arena,” Haize murmured, staring off across the fields.
I looked out of the room in the hope that it would be him, but it was false hope. Of course, he wouldn’t be coming from that direction.
“It’s Castor,” Lena said, already down the stairs. “And something’s wrong.”
When we reached him, his face was red, but not from running the distance from the Arena. And he roared when he spoke. The force of his anger was strong enough to have been heard clear into the city.
Haize tried to calm him, to make sense of his words, but all we could understand was, “He’s telling her to come here.” That’s all we needed to know.
She led him down into the food hall, threatening to put him to sleep again if he didn’t follow. And the quiet fury that emanated from every set of eyes softened when they saw him.
The screen was again only a translucent window, and Haize asked if Connor had brought her over. Aleric told her no; Hera had sense enough so far, to say no to him and so far, he was respecting her wishes. And that’s where Hera and Connor had ended their conversation. I was relieved; I didn’t want to feel them. I couldn’t bear the thought of having that missing half of me filled with their love and anguish.
“Feeling better?” came Grid’s voice behind me.
I turned to him not knowing what to expect, but hoping he hadn’t suspected who I’d been with.
“Much,” I smiled, however, my thoughts ran across Jordan’s words; I had to find a way to tell him about Gia. But the Colony was already filled with too much emotion, and I decided to wait until we were sure Hera was staying where she was. He’d waited well over fifty years; a few more days wouldn’t matter.
“Come on. You look hungry,” he said, pulling me out of the room.
I most likely did look hungry. I hadn’t eaten too much recently, though I was sure he really only wanted to get me out of the room, in case things should explode again.
As we left, I glanced back at Haize, she only put her finger to her lips, indicating once more to say nothing. She didn’t need to remind me though.
20
Misspoken Words
He didn’t say a word the entire way back across the courtyard, nor up the stairs that led to his front room. Though the moment we entered the room, he turned back to me and squeezed me until I thought he wouldn’t let go. But when he released me, he gently cradled my face in his hands.
“What were you thinking?” he softly demanded. “If they’d caught you inside the city…” but he couldn’t finish his sentence. He stared a few moments into my eyes and then dropped his hands away from my face.
I couldn’t say what he saw in me, but it was enough for him to walk away. I hated that I couldn’t talk about everything with him, and wished he would go outside with me once in a while.
We sat quietly as we ate the food he’d generated for us, and afterwards it was even quieter, to the point where I had to say something.
“Why so quiet? Normally at this time we would be filling each other with memories of Earth.”
“I don’t want to remember anymore. It’s long gone,” he sighed.
“All the more reason to remember it.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s where you come from, it’s part of who you are.”
But he only laughed, and it didn’t seem like he was going to explain why.
“Grid, I’m sorry for going into the city,” I didn’t want to apologize to him, or to anyone else for agreeing to do that, for it had led to a few of the best days of my existence. And the pain I’d traded for it was well worth it. “Are you mad at me?”
He stared across the table, a range of emotions crossing his eyes, and I had no doubt he was weighing the best response to give me.
“I finally come across someone I have something in common with, who isn’t insane, and she has a death wish,” he admitted. “Maybe she is insane after all.”
“I don’t have a death wish,” I told him. “I only want what everyone else here wants.”
“What is that? Freedom when there is none to be had?”
“Of course. I may have come here willingly, but what about you? What about them?” I asked pointing toward the clear window. “They didn’t have a choice. They were brought here solely to be hunted, captured and killed!”
“Maybe they shouldn’t go outside.”
“And what? We live our lives inside this shell? Wait for the wards to come here, to hunt us for insertion?”
“You are not being hunted…” he began, but stopped as though unable to speak the rest of his sentence. He leaned across the table and held my face in his hands again, though this time with force, not gentle they way he had before, instead it was controlling. “You will never be captured for insertion.”
“Really? Are you saying I dreamed they were chasing me out of the city?”
“They weren’t chasing you to capture you for insertion,” he rephrased, then released my face, and pushed away from the table.
“What do you mean?”
“You, me, others from Earth, we’re no good to them. They keep trying with us and failing, they can’t control us, not completely. The Heart, the Rathe, their bodies are as pure as the people of Threa, they fit right in. We will never be anything other than a threat. You need to stay out of the city. If they capture you, you will be killed. You would not be inserted.”
“I have no intentions of going back into the city,” I told him, more to reassure whoever was listening to us. Although, I was confused by what he was saying, and wondered why he would say as much. He knew the wards, or the Guardian were most likely listening. Maybe he didn’t care anymore.
“Why are we no good to them? What exactly don’t we fit into?”
“When they insert us, those of us from Earth, too much of who we are is stripped away. There’s too much of us that cannot be directly inserted into the machine,” he paused, to look up at me, no doubt to see if I was turning green and needing to run for the bathroom, but I was staying where I was. I wanted to hear everything he
was willing to share.
“There were only a couple they were able to successfully insert. But the Guardian didn’t have complete control, not the way it had control over those from Rathe or Heart.”
“But what does the Guardian really want with them anyway? Surely, it had gained every spec of attainable knowledge from the others. There is no reason to keep bringing people here and taking them, other than to build its own army of wards.”
“Lydia!” he groaned, leaping to my side. He placed both hands around my face again, this time one partially covering my mouth. “Shut up!”
His swift movement stunned me into silence. Not because his hand was on my mouth, but because I realized I’d said more than I was supposed to. His action though, confirmed Lena’s earlier statement, that the walls had ears. The Guardian was listening. Not a good time to mention Gia.
He released me, pushing himself away from the table, and paced the length of the room. I rose from the table to approach him and began to apologize to him, for arguing. But he only waved his hand toward me, brushing me away, as though it didn’t matter.
He was about to leave the room, when the screen flashed to life, and he grasped the wall nearest to him, leaning upon it. His shoulders sagged. I wanted to run.
Their conversation began as I remembered mine had with Jordan; sweet, simple, relieved to be hearing one another again. Then turning deliberate, honest, sincere.
The feelings Hera felt for Connor soared through me, dropping me once more to my knees. Jordan’s image filled my mind, his touch caressed my skin. I felt his name forcing its way up from my heart, needing to be heard, but I clamped my mouth tightly closed. I couldn’t speak about him here. I needed to do as Grid had previously suggested and pretend Jordan was not in my life. Pretend I was alone and vulnerable.
I tried to force her feelings out of me, but they were there as though they were my feelings. I looked over at Grid and my heart broke for him. I was sure he was thinking of Gia; he’d said they’d spent several years getting to know one another. And even though they’d never met, that was a long time by Earth standards to spend lost in another’s thoughts and words.
I forced myself to my feet, ambled to his side and slipped my arms around his waist.
“We need to leave this,” I whispered.
“We can’t. I can’t. He’s bringing her over. I need to be here when he does.”
“Why?”
“I need to find her.”
“Why you? I’m sure Castor will, and Aleric. Why you?”
“I just do,” he groaned.
We slid to the ground, holding one another against the pain, listening once more without a choice.
‘I can bring you here in an instant,’ Connor said.
‘Why don’t you come here?’ Hera asked. ‘Why do I have to go there? I don’t even know where there is.’
‘It doesn’t work that way,’ he said to her as though he’d said it a dozen times. ‘The machine can’t send me, only you.’
‘What if I don’t like it there? What if we fight and don’t like each other?’
‘Excuses!’ he scowled, playfully laughing.
‘They’re not excuses, they’re legitimate questions!’
‘Hera,’ he whispered. When he caressed her name, my heart leapt right along with hers. I tried to make the pounding stop, but I couldn’t. I was filled with her.
And her thoughts pierced my brain as though they were my thoughts. She had every reason in the world for wanting to go, but only one reason stopping her. She couldn’t hurt her aunt that way. They’d lost everyone else.
‘Hera,’ he whispered again, bringing her out of her reverie. ‘Please come to me. If you don’t like it here, I can send you right back.’
“No,” I grumbled. I turned to Grid, but the shock on his face mirrored my own. “Why… why would he say that? Has something changed? Can it send us back?”
Grid pulled himself to his feet, bringing me up with him. Then taking one slow step at a time, he walked to the screen, standing right in front of it. Waiting.
“No,” he finally responded, the volume gone from his voice. “I don’t think so anyway.”
I followed him. Both of us standing side by side, dominated by Hera’s affections - her excitement at the thought of being with Connor.
“Hera,” Grid mumbled. “Say no. Say no, Hera.”
‘I can come back?’ Hera asked.
‘Of course, you can. It’s only me that can’t leave. You can come and go.’
‘Why didn’t you say so before?’
‘Because I want you to come here and stay with me. I won’t want you to leave.’
‘And I won’t want to either,’ she agreed. ‘Not now. I need time.’
‘I know,’ he answered. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t keep bringing it up.’
Grid turned away from the screen to look at me and we waited, hoping it was the end of it for today. They were silent for only moments, her need for him filled me, and I missed Jordan to the point where I thought my soul would wither without him.
‘I need to speak with my aunt,’ Hera said, finally. ‘Will you come back later?’
‘Of course. How much later?’
‘The middle of the night. Come to my dreams. Wake me up,’ she whispered, hopeful.
‘Sounds like fun,’ he chuckled.
“Castor has to sit through this?” I remarked.
“No. Aleric was taking him back to the Arena when we left the food hall. He most likely didn’t hear any of this.”
“But they can see and hear all of this in the Arena?”
“Yeah, but out there it’s by choice. They have their own power source; they can turn it off. They won’t let him hear any more.”
“I hope not. He was ready to rip a hole in the city when we saw him outside.”
“If he tries, he’ll only kill himself, or worse.”
My instinct was to ask what was worse. But I already knew what the Guardian was capable of.
Thankfully, they’d said their goodbye’s and the screen became the window once more.
“Now what do we do?” I asked.
“We wait,” he said, taking a seat on the couch near the window.
I sat beside him, hoping Mason could find Connor - if he was even real, though I was sure he was - before he returned.
We went right back into our routine of discussing our Earth memories. But our voices each lacked the heartfelt animation that often accompanied such conversations. I let him read the memories I’d recently penned on the paper he’d given me, and he questioned everything I’d written. But the interest he would normally have shown, was minimal. We were really only filling the time, waiting for the hours to pass. Waiting for Connor to return to Hera, when hopefully she would continue to say no.
Eventually, even our small talk of Earth turned to silence in the night. I lay my head upon his shoulder, not wanting to fall asleep, but feeling it beginning to take hold. I felt him rest his head upon mine, and although I couldn’t see his face, I doubted the gesture was from his own lack of energy.
“How much do you know about the insertion process?” I asked him.
“Why do you want to know about that?”
“I just do,” I responded. I really didn’t. I’d heard enough. But I wanted to hear his thoughts on the subject. “I don’t know. Just curious, I guess.”
“Well,” he sighed. “It’s done at the hospital. It’s not really a hospital, that’s just what I call it. I guess morgue would be a better word for it though. The people in the city just call it the Spire. But I think that’s too nice a word for something so gruesome.”
I listened to the soft sound of his voice as he explained what he knew of the process. The scan of the brain and storage of all memories, including how we walk, talk and think, essentially the soul is stored in the Spire as a living memory. He detailed the draining of the body’s fluids, the softening then liquefying o
f hard tissues and bone. The defective cells and DNA separated and disposed of, and the clean fluid then inserted into the Central Unit. It then also has our physical self, stored, a complete record of our biometric imprint, ready to be restored. After which, the regenerating and reinsertion process takes no time at all.
It was a whole lot more detail than I was expecting or wanting, but it kept me awake.
“How do you know all of this?”
“Mason. He worked there centuries ago.”
Mason seemed to have accomplished quite a lot!
“You know Mason?”
“We met a long time ago, but I know him mostly through Aleric’s deliberations.”
“How old is Mason anyway?”
His laugh was hollow, but I relished the sound anyway.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“He’s well over two thousand years,” he whispered, slowly enunciating each word as though he himself didn’t believe it.
“Well, damn,” I breathed. “No wonder he knows so much.”
“Yeah, live that long and you could learn anything, everything.”
“I wonder what he looks like.”
“Why, you interested?” he joked.
“Nooo,” I dug him playfully in the ribs with my elbow. “Just curious about what a two-thousand-year-old man looks like.”
“He is as young as you or me.”
I closed my eyes, not wanting to contemplate Mason’s age a second longer. I only hoped when I did finally meet him, that I didn’t stare too long. And then I was horrified at myself for thinking that I would. I used to be on the receiving end of those all-too-long stares. I’d almost forgotten the feeling. I didn’t want to forget it though. It was a lesson worth holding on to.
The sound of laughter reached my ears, erupting from my own lips, waking me, and I opened my eyes. I silenced myself as I sat up and felt Grid’s hand in mine. No doubt he’d taken to holding it while I slept. I didn’t reproach him for it though, and left my hand in his.
But I was not me. The happiness was Hera’s; my laughter had been hers.