Stones (Data)

by Jacob Whaler

  Matt stares at the throng below, each of them, male and female, dressed in identical purple robes. “They look happy.”

  “More than just happy. Deeply content.” Ryzaard’s glance floats over them like a god. “In the future, the future I will create, pain no longer exists. No suffering, no sorrow, no misery.” He turns to face Matt. “Think of it. No more wars. No more holocausts. No more evil. The world will be free of all that.”

  “A world without pain. I wish I could believe—”

  “Believe in the power you felt on the balcony. That was real. Power like that can do more than destroy. It can also build a world like this. Just be patient. In time you will understand.”

  A hundred thousand faces turn up to Matt, each brimming with joy.

  “It’s as if they worship us.”

  “Yes, of course, that is the way it will be. Nothing will rival our power. And we will use it only for good. We ought to be worshiped. It’s our right.”

  Matt shakes his head. “You talk as if it’s already happened.”

  “In my mind, and on this world, it has.”

  The crowd below begins to chant, reaching a crescendo of sound that rocks the platform.

  Matthew. Matthew. Matthew.

  “Who are they? How do they know me?” Matt says.

  Ryzaard puts his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Perhaps you ought to talk with them, let them speak for themselves. Let’s go down to meet them.”

  The platform begins to sink to the floor. It takes a full minute.

  Leaving Matt, Ryzaard steps onto the main floor first, and the crowd draws back to allow him a worshipful distance. He raises his hands like a benevolent grandfather, a picture of love and concern. The room falls into immediate silence.

  “My friends, my children.” Ryzaard speaks softly, yet as far as Matt can see, everyone in the massive space seems to be able to hear him as if he were standing only a few feet away. “As you can see, I’ve brought Matthew, the one who, with me, took evil from the earth so that you can live in peace.” Ryzaard turns back to Matt and motions for him to step down. “Talk to them.”

  He descends onto the main floor with no idea what to expect and a burning suspicion of Ryzaard and the show he’s putting on. The floor gently slopes away so that he and Ryzaard stand at the pinnacle and look out across the tops of thousands of heads. With the Stone heavy in his hand, he grips it tightly and walks toward a woman standing on the edge of the congregation.

  She has a look of wonder in her eyes that draws his closer. He beckons her to come forward with his hand, and she beams with gratitude at being the one chosen. Moving away from the fringe toward Matt, she stops a few meters from him and looks up into his eyes, raising her eyebrows slightly, waiting for him to speak.

  Matt isn’t sure what to say and looks around the room awkwardly, his eyes sweeping past Ryzaard.

  “Go ahead,” Ryzaard says. “Ask her anything. I know you’re full of questions. She will answer truthfully.”

  Matt swallows and turns back toward the woman. “Tell me your name.”

  “Nahal,” the woman says. Her dark eyes and olive skin defy easy classification.

  “Are you happy?” Matt says.

  The answer is obvious.

  “Oh, yes, incredibly happy.” The woman smiles widely, showing perfect white teeth.

  “Why?”

  For a moment, the woman’s eyes drift through the room, as if searching for the right words. “Everything here makes me happy. It’s so much better than before.”

  “Before?”

  “Yes, before I came here. I grew up in Spain during the Holocaust, part of the resistance. They captured me, did terrible things to me and the others before…” She looked down at the ground as her voice trailed off.

  “Before what?”

  “I think I died, but then I woke up. Here.”

  Matt spins around and faces Ryzaard. For a moment he can’t find the words to speak. Then they come. “You can bring people back from the dead?

  Ryzaard walks toward Matt. “Like I told you. This is only an indication of what we can do, you and me together, in the future. As our knowledge of the Stones grows, there will be no theoretical limits.” He opens his arms up, as if encompassing the world. “We can build paradise. We can right all wrongs. Bring back everything that’s been lost.” Ryzaard stares directly into Matt’s eyes. “Isn’t that what you really want?”

  Matt’s body begins to tremble. “Can you, can we, bring anyone back. From the dead?”

  Ryzaard nods his head. “Of course. Anyone.” He moves toward Matt. “In fact, there’s someone else I want you to meet.” He walks ten paces into the mass of people until he comes to a small woman standing in silence.

  The long black hair and the willowy figure cause a whisper to slip off Matt’s tongue.

  “Mom.”

  CHAPTER 64

  Tears stream down Matt’s face. His breathing is suddenly ragged and can’t keep up with his surging pulse.

  He stumbles through the mass of people to Ryzaard and the small woman with long black hair. Moving back a few steps, Ryzaard pulls away as Matt comes closer, making room for him to move by.

  He stops an arm’s length from the woman, seeing just the top of her delicate eyelashes as she looks down. No matter how hard he tries, his trembling legs and arms can’t be stilled. He fights back the urge to rush forward and engulf her in his arms, afraid that if he touches her, she will disintegrate in his hands like an ancient silk garment or finely spun glass, just like the dreams he’s had since he was a child.

  With his pulse still racing, Matt’s runs his shaking fingers over his own chest and thighs to confirm he’s really here, never taking his eyes off the woman, afraid to blink. The subtle scent of freshly peeled mandarin oranges lingers in the air. He pulls in a deep breath. It all feels real, not like a dream.

  His arms move forward to touch her, but then he pulls back. The lump in his throat makes it hard to swallow. He licks his lips, and they feel like sandpaper.

  “Mom.” Matt struggles to get his voice to make a sound. “Mom, is it really you?”

  The small woman raises her face and opens her eyes, like a flower blooming in the morning sun. She is exactly as he remembers her, long black hair with a hint of a wave and those large eyes, mostly brown, with tiny flecks of green. There’s the dimple at the corner of her mouth, the one he always reached up and felt with his finger as a child when she smiled.

  She studies his face. “You’ve grown so tall, Matthew-sama.”

  The sound of her voice triggers a flood of images and sensations. His mom is standing in the kitchen, apron on, long chopsticks in hand, making dinner. The aroma of fresh gyoza and shrimp tempura floats around her.

  Another image comes, and he tries to push it away, but it plays in his mind, stuck in a deep groove, forever burnt into his consciousness. He’s ten years old, running away from the front porch. Glancing back, his mom opens her arms and calls out to him. Tears stream from his eyes as he shouts how much he hates her. He keeps running and never looks back again.

  The last time he saw her.

  Until now.

  He can’t hold himself back any longer and rushes forward. Doubts and fears fall away as he leans down and wraps his arms around her small shoulders. The top of her head fits snuggly beneath his chin. His arms extend around her, slowly and carefully at first, and then hold her in a tight embrace.

  The words come in short bursts. “Mom. So hard. Without you.” Tears drip onto her shoulders, the floodgates from years of longing suddenly opened and released. “Miss you so much.” With no more strength or reason to hold it all back, his whole body trembles and convulses. “Such a long time.”

  She wraps her thin arms around him. “Don’t worry. I’m here now. I will always be here for you.”

  Matt closes his eyes for a long time, not wanting to move or change anything, hoping it will never end.

  After what might have been several minutes�
�Matt doesn’t know or care—he pulls back and smiles down at the woman, not saying anything. Turning his head to face Ryzaard, he keeps one arm wrapped around her. “I don’t know how you did it, but thank you, thank you so much.”

  “We can do it together,” Ryzaard says. “You and I.”

  Euphoria surges through Matt. “This city. The power of the Stones. All these people. They look so happy. And my mother. It’s incredible.”

  Ryzaard laughs. “So, you will join me on this project, to change the world?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I don’t really understand, but, yes, if I can have my mom back, I’ll do anything.” Matt looks down at the woman and wipes the tears from his eyes with his free hand, the one gripping the Stone.

  “You won’t regret this,” Ryzaard says. “You’re much wiser than I gave you credit.”

  Matt feels intoxicated, almost to the point of giddiness. He looks down at the woman again. “Mom, it’s so good to see you. I can’t believe this. I have so much to tell you. So much has happened.”

  “I want to hear all of it,” the woman says. She returns his gaze, beaming with what looks like pure elation.

  With his hands clasped behind him, Ryzaard comes closer. “You will have plenty of time with her later. For now, we need to get back and begin our work. Always remember this world and what you saw here, as an inspiration for all that we will do. That’s why I brought you here.”

  Matt nods his head. “Understood. Is there any way to take my mom back with me? We can be a family again. My dad would love to see—”

  “I’m sorry, but we can’t do that.” Ryzaard raises a hand to Matt’s shoulder. “She’ll have to stay here.”

  “But why?” Matt looks up through the mist and fog over his eyes. “She’s real, isn’t she?”

  “We have to go now.”

  The elation begins to drain out of Matt’s chest. “You didn’t answer my question. His eyes drop down to the woman’s face. “She’s real, isn’t she?”

  “You must understand.” Ryzaard’s fingers tighten on Matt’s shoulder. “I brought you here to show you what’s possible. In the future. All of this is only an indication of what will be real. You can return to this world and visit later.” Ryzaard’s hand drops from Matt’s shoulder, and he turns and starts walking to back the platform.

  Releasing the woman from his embrace, Matt looks down into her face and turns on the internal recorder, trying to memorize every feature so that he can recall it later.

  Words come into his mind, but part of him is afraid to say them aloud, afraid to destroy the elation that he’s felt for the last few minutes. But the words gush out. “You are my mother, aren’t you?”

  The woman’s eyes drop down to the floor. “I will be anything you want me to be, as long as it makes you happy.”

  Matt smiles one more time at the woman, sniffles and wipes away his tears with the back of his hand. As he turns to follow Ryzaard to the platform, he casts one more backward glance at her.

  Not my mom.

  His chest tightens, and his teeth come together. The skin of his face feels suddenly hot. Walking through the crowd, his eye catches on something. It seems the wrong color and strangely out of place.

  He stops to take a closer look.

  A brilliant jewel, two centimeters long, deep purple and the same claw shape as his Stone, is imbedded in the skin behind a man’s right ear. Matt reaches out to touch it.

  He immediately pulls back. The jewel is as cold as ice.

  Going from person to person in the crowd, Matt looks behind each right ear. They all have the identical implant.

  With a sidelong glance at Ryzaard, his eyes narrow and he runs back to the woman. She’s still standing where he left her, looking into his eyes with an expression of love that is exactly the same as before. He gently turns her head and gazes behind her right ear.

  And sees the jewel.

  Just like the others. He reaches a finger out and touches its cold surface, pulling back as if he’s been bitten by a snake.

  “What is this?” Matt says.

  “It tells me what to do. What to think. It makes me happy all the time.” She stares into Matt’s right hand and raises a finger, pointing to the Stone in his hand. “Just like yours.”

  Matt follows her eyes down to his right hand and sees his Stone, a purple glow coming from within. He releases his grip on her and holds the Stone in the upturned palm of his hand. For several seconds, he stares into it.

  And then looks back to in the direction of Ryzaard.

  One by one, his fingers curl around the fat end of the Stone, and he holds it like a dagger with the point facing down. He tries to hold back the word that has already formed on his tongue. With an uplifted head, he turns away from Ryzaard and looks out on the multitude. The word explodes from his mouth.

  “Kneel!”

  A tremor passes through the Stone.

  The entire multitude sinks to their knees in unison. He slowly turns around full circle to survey the crowd. Tens of thousands of heads bow in reverence. Hanging on his words.

  Ryzaard’s footsteps approach from behind.

  “She’s not my mother, is she?” Matt speaks without turning around.

  “She is a human, fully alive, a representation of everything your mother was. Everything she can be again. Drawn from your own memories. If only you are willing to join me.”

  “I don’t want a representation. I want my mother.” All Matt’s emotions turn to rage. He takes a step back.

  “Don’t do this Matt.”

  “What are the implants behind their ears?”

  “I sense your frustration and anger. You must be patient. There’s so much we can do together.”

  Matt whips around. “You never answer my questions! Why do they all have implants?”

  “The purple jewels are a direct connection to the Stones. It will help in our work.”

  “You said we could take evil and suffering from the world. You said it would be Paradise.” Matt’s jaw is clenching shut, and he can’t seem to loosen it. His words flow through and around his gritted teeth. “Tell me. Is this how you do it? With mind control?”

  “Evil will have no place in the world you and I will remake. We will shut it out.” Ryzaard’s eyes narrow slightly as he looks at Matt. “Peace and harmony reign. Happy thoughts. Happy actions. Everyone is content. No suffering. No misery. It’s the only way.”

  Matt’s gaze goes to the Stone in his hand, the same color as the robes worn by the masses around them. The same color as the jewel implants. “But are they free?” He takes another step back and tries to tamp down the rising eruption in his chest.

  “Yes.” Ryzaard smacks his lips, and the sound seems to echo in the massive chamber. “Free to choose good.”

  “But not free to choose evil, or what you decide is evil. They can only choose what you allow them to choose.”

  “Evil starts in the mind.” Ryzaard says. “Ideas take root there, and then they blossom and grow. The only way to defeat evil is to start at its source. To stop it at the point of conception. I know this isn’t easy, but you must try to understand.” His voice rises with a tinge of anger.

  Matt grips his Stone in his hand and looks away from Ryzaard at the kneeling people. “Stand,” he says. In every direction, countless thousands come to their feet, nothing but serenity in their faces. “They don’t look free to me. Robots. Puppets, maybe. But not free. Not real.”

  A long sigh escapes from Ryzaard’s lips. “You don’t understand. You are young. Freedom is a difficult concept to grasp. Some people think it means the right to do whatever you want. Freedom to kill. Freedom to destroy. That kind of freedom always leads to suffering. But there is another way, if you will only believe me and use the gift you have been given.”

  The anger is pressing against Matt’s chest, ready to explode. “Kneel!” he says. In unison, everyone except him and Ryzaard drops to their knees. “They fear me.” He sees the woman next to him, the one he
called mom, kneeling at his feet, eyes to the floor. “Even she fears me.”

  “But she is happy.”

  Holding his Stone between finger and thumb, Matt raises it to eye level, as if trying to look through it. “Stand,” he says. A hundred thousand bodies rise to their feet, looking in his direction. “Kneel!” The ocean of purple drops to the floor, heads bowed in an attitude of reverence. Matt stares back at Ryzaard with narrow slits of eyes. “You call this happiness? It’s more like slavery.”

  The smile disappears from Ryzaard’s face. “Matt. Consider carefully what I offer you. Mankind has dreamed of Paradise for millennia. It is within our grasp to make it a reality if we work together. The chance to remake the world in our own image. No more pain and suffering. No more wars. No more mistakes. No more tears.”

  Matt reaches down to the shoulder of the woman kneeling beside him. His arms ache to hold her again, to look into her eyes. He gently pulls her chin up, and she smiles before her eyes drift back to the floor. He reaches down and gently raises up the woman’s chin again. Gazing at her, he stares into her eyes for long seconds, paying no attention to the tears falling again from his own face. Then he bends close and kisses her on the cheek as a tremble runs through her body.

  “Whoever you are, I love you,” he says in a barely audible voice. His fingers reach up and brush the cold implant behind her ear. Without a backward glance at Ryzaard, Matt stands and starts walking away through the crowd of people.

  “The future of our world, and other worlds, awaits us, Matt.”

  “OK, so now I’ve seen your future.” Matt’s eyes move around the vast throng in the room. His eyes focus again on the purple jewels behind everyone’s ears. “It’s a future built on force and deception. And I’m not going to have anything to do with it.”

  For a moment, the corners of Ryzaard’s eyes and mouth sag on his face as if pulled down by gravity. His gaze drops to the floor, but then he shakes his head. The mouth hardens into a snarl. “You tasted the power of the Stones out there on the balcony. That’s just the beginning. And your mother, we can bring her back or recreate her, if we work together. Surely you won’t throw all this away?” Ryzaard has a white-knuckle grip on his Stone.