by Kir Lukovkin
Rick finished the Spring Run last.
Four runners had finished this time.
2
EVERYONE feared and respected Warden Croesus. They feared him for his cunning and cruelty. They respected him for knowing how to read. An ugly scar slashed downwards, cutting diagonally across the face of the leader of the Commune from his forehead to his chin. It was said that this was a mark from the Machine God which Croesus earned when he was still a young and fiery warrior, back in the times when the Commune made war against the barbarians beyond the barrier.
Back in those good old bountiful days.
Now a respected patriarch, Croesus stood on a platform, holding on to the railing and looking down upon the people of the Commune. Rick stood there too, together with the other youths who had completed the Spring Run. The trials went on for exactly one month. Thirty days of trials, which included the Stand Above the Chasm, the Walk Upon the Walls, the Pit Fight and the Hunt for Carrion Bats as well as the Spring Run. All of this was called the Spring Dance, a thirty-day dance of life and death. Those who survived reached the next level. Those who died became a sacrifice to the Machine God.
The Spring Dance had finished the day before. The sacrifice was great this year. Nearly a third of the young people that reached the age of twenty had died, disappeared into the chasm or went missing in the labyrinths of the Expanse.
Croesus did not hide his satisfaction.
“People of the Commune!” he called to the crowd, “The Machine God is pleased with us!”
Whispers. The upturned faces looked like wax masks, with pieces of glass replacing the eyes in their sockets.
“The God has heard our prayers and accepted our offerings! At last, he has been merciful to us, the pious people of the Omicron Commune! Winter is over. The hoarfrost on the condensers has thinned by a finger’s breadth! This means that the cold is retreating!”
The crowd voiced its excitement.
“The Great Circle of Life turns! All hail!”
Croesus raised his fist in a victory salute. The crowd happily replied. But Rick saw that this was the joy of starving men—even though their mouths were smiling, their faces bore the harsh mark of hunger and loss. The Commune suffered from the frosts for many a year, while the food supplies dwindled and the rations kept being cut. Even though there was a farm and there were regular expeditions beyond the barrier, there was never enough food to feed the people.
“And now, let us greet those that passed the trials,” Croesus pointed at the group of young people that stood apart from the main body of the crowd, “These young men and women have successfully reached a new level in their lives!”
The gathering started to applaud and shout their approval.
“This new generation has proven that it is worthy of taking its place in the society of the Omicron Commune. Each one of them will have their own task that will benefit the Commune. They will work at the factory, at the farm and in the corridors of the sector as your equals. They are now our brothers and sisters.”
The crowd voiced their approval again.
“As always, I would like to pay special attention to those who were courageous enough to brave the Spring Run and who ran through the Great Circle of Life. Here come the brave!”
Croesus stepped back, gesturing for Rick and the others to come closer to the railing and hear the applause, which was genuine, happy and boisterous as there was always someone’s father or mother, brother or sister, grandfather or uncle in the crowd, all of whom had prayed to the Machine God for their relatives to return alive. Of course, not all the prayers were heard, but this was God’s will and no mortal could oppose it. Even though he could not see her, Rick knew that his little sister Aurora was standing somewhere here too.
“These young men and women have shown themselves to be true warriors,” continued Croesus, “which means that they are worthy of carrying out the most honorable and responsible of task—defending the peace of the Commune and protecting it from outside foes and saboteurs. I am honored to present the new warriors of the Patrol to you! Gus, the winner of the run, is appointed senior on this level!”
The happiness of those present knew no bounds. Rick trembled with joy. He had worked towards this moment for twenty years and it had finally come. The faces of the people seemed to meld together and everything around him seemed to descend into a fog. Rick felt so dizzy that he had to grab the railing. He did it! He would be re-homed on a higher floor, into a larger, warmer and brighter room and with a bigger ration, which meant that…
Someone roughly shoved him in the ribs. Rick turned around. It was Yeshua.
“Let the Warden pass!” he growled.
Croesus stepped forward once again. The crowd went quiet. After waiting for the noise to subside, the Warden began to speak, this time with a note of steel in his voice.
“Our great Commune has now existed for a thousand years, since the creation of the Expanse by the Machine God. We are the chosen people, the truly righteous. But the great God always sends us trials to test our resilience and the belief of the people of Omicron in the order of things. Our ancestors were attacked by hordes of monsters from the Expanse outside, people suffered hardship and hunger and died from terrible diseases, but they stood firm in the face of these terrible trials, proving their greatness! If it wasn’t for their strength, we would not be here today! Hardship makes a man stronger, and the harder it is the stronger we become.”
Croesus paused. The crowd listened on in absolute silence.
“Our trials are not yet over. This is a good sign. The God wants proof of our loyalty. He wants to be sure that our strength has not left us. We withstood the piercing cold with honor. A new harvest will be ready soon and we won’t have to conserve food. But our troubles are not over! The Omicron Commune faces a new danger!”
Croesus passed his gaze over the crowd and Rick was shocked to see an animalistic pleasure which bordered on madness in his eyes.
“The day before yesterday, the northern Patrol apprehended three infiltrators from the outer Expanse! These foul barbarians wanted to find out everything about us so they could attack the Commune. Their army is out there, outside, and it is ready to break in here to rob, burn and kill!”
The crowd gasped.
“They shall kill the men, they will take the women as slaves and do such things to the children and the elders that I cannot bear to utter them! But we will be ready. We have interrogated these vermin and discovered the plans of the enemy. They will not catch us unawares! This will never happen! The Omicron Commune will withstand any outside threat. We want peace, but we are prepared for war. We released one of the spies so that he would warn his leaders that they must not enter our territory. The second one killed himself before we could save him. Now, I present the third one for your judgment, People of the Commune. Here he is!”
Croesus made a sign and a convoy accompanying a bound captive marched into the middle of the square. The captive was a man with a pronounced limp who was supported under his elbows. His head hung down powerlessly to his chest. The prisoner was taken into the circle that spread among the crowd in complete silence. The guards stepped back. Almost immediately, he fell to his knees.
The crowd greedily looked over the outsider. Rick also had a look and was surprised that the man was dressed in a rather filthy silvery suit, but Rick was still sure that he had seen a suit of that kind somewhere!
“Here he is!” exclaimed Croesus, “Your enemy!”
The crowd started get noisy. They were pointing their fingers at the prisoner. The people looked at him with hatred, as if he was dangerous predator.
“Hey, you!” shouted Croesus. “Why did you come here? Answer me!”
One of the guards poked the man with an electric baton, making him moan. Croesus repeated his question, but the prisoner could only mumble incoherently. His face was a battered ruin and his eyes darted like the eyes of a caged animal. He tried to make a dash for it, but immediately stumbled
and fell onto his back. The crowd recoiled. The women screamed.
“They can’t even speak! They growl like animals!”
One man stepped out of the crowd and spat in the face of the prisoner. Another bounded up to kick him in the gut.
“Enough!” Croesus exclaimed. “Let’s not act like these animals. People of the Commune, brothers and sisters, hear me! I am giving this barbarian for you to judge, and I ask you, what should I do with him? I will do what you say. But I won’t hide the fact that this beast seriously wounded one of our patrolmen. So, then, let me hear your verdict!”
The crowd stayed quiet. People were fidgeting, the human sea was getting rough, the waves were rising and hungry eyes looked at the body huddled in the middle of the square with absolute hatred. And then, someone shouted,
“Death to the barbarians!”
Another voice joined in from the other end of the square. Like an echo, the shout started to reflect off the walls and multiply to engulf all of those present. The crowd soon began chanting,
“Death to the barbarians! Death! Death!”
Croesus silenced everyone with a movement of his hand.
“Have I understood the sentence correctly?”
“Yes!” a thousand voices replied.
“In the name of the Omicron Commune! As Chief Judge and instrument of the will of the people, I sentence you to death, barbarian.”
The prisoner barely lifted his head into the light, croaking weakly.
“We shall be merciful, and rid you of your pathetic life without undue suffering.”
The crowd made approving noises.
“Let the sentence be carried out!”
Two guards approached the condemned man. One forcefully wrenched him to his feet, while the other took out his baton and switched the weapon to maximum power. The prisoner shuddered, spat out a bloody gob of phlegm and shouted, before the deadly lightning strike could turn his brain to mush,
“No! You must turn off the gen…”
An instant later, he was dead. Croesus addressed those present:
“Brothers and sisters! Considering the situation we are in, I ask for your permission to continue to do justice in the name of the Commune as I see fit, lawfully and fairly.”
The people voiced their approval. The crowd began to slowly dissipate. Impressed and dazed, Rick stepped to the side without looking and bumped into someone. He looked up and saw that it was Croesus himself. Their eyes met.
“Congratulations!”
The leader of the Commune clasped Rick’s hand and then departed, flanked by his guards.
Rick turned towards the square where the execution happened. They were already tearing the clothing off the body of the barbarian. In half an hour it will be missing, dragged off by the denizens of the lower levels. The ones whose rations were particularly poor.
3
“YOU’RE BACK!” Aurora exclaimed when Rick stepped into the room.
He patted his sister’s curly head, noticing how she was now almost at a height with his chest, while she had only recently just reached his waist. She was growing.
There was someone else in the room. Rick immediately felt the presence of someone who was not part of the family. It turned out to be old Kyoto.
“Hello, Rick,” he heard from a dark corner.
“Hello.”
“I helped Aurora clear up a here a little,” Kyoto smiled, leaning in towards the light and showing off his strong and even teeth. Something that could not be said about his wrinkled face—nothing can be done about age.
“Thanks, but to what do I owe this pleasure?” Rick warily asked.
He had got really tired over the last week. He had to go on patrol every day. The tension never left him even when he slept.
“Let’s have some lunch!” Aurora said.
“Good idea,” everyone agreed.
Rick never hurried when he ate, so that he could better digest his ration. Especially since it was bigger now—a piece of meat had been added to the potatoes, bread and beans. Meat! While his restless sister was looking for the spoon she dropped under the table, he secretly put a little piece on her plate. Kyoto nodded approvingly. Rick pushed his own plate away and took a gulp of homebrew, made of the fermented barley that did not grow on the farm properly and which would have been thrown away or filched by someone like Rick. He looked at the clock on the wall and asked,
“So it’s not your shift today?”
“Nope,” Kyoto was putting bread in his mouth piece by piece.
Rick nodded.
“Congratulations, Rick. A new and important stage in your life has come.”
“Yes, thanks. Everyone says that.”
“You’re probably tired of hearing it.”
“You always get to the root of things, as they say.”
“You’re an educated boy. You have a great future.”
“Let’s get closer to business.”
Rick disliked drawn out conversations.
He wanted to clean his new uniform before he went to sleep—a dark blue suit made of thick fabric that he was issued when he moved upwards. The uniform was beautiful. The hieroglyphic sigil of the Commune was on its chest, symbolizing the Circle of Life, an O. Omicron. He would now wear this uniform for the next ten years until he reached thirty years of age to again go through the trials mandated by the Committee and decide his fate. The same as all the people in the sector. As it was, so it shall be.
“Yes, you’re right,” Kyoto stroked Aurora’s curls, “Go and play, little one.”
Aurora stuck her tongue out at the old man and disappeared. Everyone in the Commune treated the aged with a certain degree of contempt, as the circle of their life was definitely coming to its end.
“That execution…” the old man began.
“Was necessary.”
“Yes. But…” Kyoto hesitated.
Rick started to clear the dishes from the table. He put everything into the sink and sat in Aurora’s seat.
“What do you want to say? Talk straight.”
“All right. What Croesus said about the army of barbarians and infiltrators is a lie. Now you can give me to the Patrol. It’s your direct responsibility.”
“I’ll have time for that later.”
Kyoto swallowed. He did not look his best, just like everyone else from the lower levels. The old man stank. Down below they saved on everything, from lighting to water. The ice-cold logic of survival—the aged have one foot in the grave already, so why spend resources on them? Even though travel through the whole sector was allowed, the Patrol carefully monitored that each generation lived on their own level.
“All right. Do you know how old I am?”
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“Answer the damn question.”
Really, how old was he? Rick thought about that for the first time. Kyoto was an old man when Rick was born and his mother was still alive and working on the farm. He remained an old man when Aurora appeared and Rick became a man, without any change from those times. An old man is an old man, what’s the difference?
“I don’t know.”
“Well, that’s the thing. I’m seventy-five full years of age, and I have spent a third of my life below, digging around in the pipes. I was sent down before you were born and before your mother was taken as a slave from the neighboring sector.”
“What?”
“Did you think that she was born and lived all her life here? No, my friend. She was a slave, like many other women that were taken here when the local girls were struck by mass infertility. The great Commune must live.”
“You’re lying!”
Kyoto smiled sadly.
“But how… That’s impossible… Beyond the barrier…”
“…there are wild tribes of barbarians. The Expanse outside is full of monsters and no normal person could last a day there. Yes, that’s what the Committee says.”
“So? Are you saying this isn’t tru
e?”
Kyoto looked at Rick, sizing him up.
“Do you understand that this is heresy?”
“That doesn’t matter now, son. We started with my age, so let’s keep going in that order.”
“What’s the point of me listening to this nonsense?” Rick snorted. “You have completely lost your minds down below.”
“That could be,” Kyoto nodded. “But then, why did you stay in the square when that barbarian was executed?”
Rick did not reply. The old man continued.
“I have been watching you for a long time. You are much more intelligent than your peers, Rick. This gives us a chance. I would never have started this conversation if I wasn’t sure of success. This is why I am asking you to listen to me first and then do as you see fit. Deal?”
“All right,” Rick grimly replied.
Kyoto breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well then. We, the people of the Commune, were created in the depths of the Expanse by the great Machine God, who gave us intelligence and allowed us to settle the Omicron sector. The Expanse is endless and it spreads all around us, upwards and downwards, to the left and to the right.”
Kyoto repeated the words from the Machine Treatise that were taught to every child from birth. He spoke of the way that the first generations of humans had lived in a golden age when they wanted for nothing—they had plentiful supplies of delicious food, their homes were warm and they never knew sickness or warfare, so they lived long and happy lives. However, the silver age then came to replace the golden age, and that was when man became mortal and the seeds of discord were sown. After that came the iron age, when lifespans decreased. And finally came the dark age after the iron, one in which the people of the Commune still live right now, a grim time of cold, hardship and struggling for survival.
“Why are you telling me all this?” Rick could not restrain himself, “Every child is taught this at the beginning of the Circle of Life.”