Stone Voice Rising

by C Lee Tocci

  Jeff and Donny ran up and down the length of the train, jumping from car to car, hooting and howling into the night. Nita and Devon wanted to join them, but Todd had them stay on the flat car that he, Marla and Lilibit sat on. They had slept all day so it would be hours before they were ready to sleep again. They ran around the container, the roar of the wind and the clatter of the train drowning out their noise.

  Todd also sat quietly, his fist grasping Tai-Kwee, his fingers exploring the planes and crevices of its façade. He was enthralled by his stone. He now understood what Lilibit meant about the stones speaking to her. Not in words or images, but with emotions and a knowledge of a vast vision of the universe. Todd felt if he held his stone long enough, he could see all of creation, from its dawn to its zenith. Perhaps even catch a glimpse of the Creator, if he could look deeply enough.

  Time stopped. That he was there and holding the stone was sufficient. He held the stone to his cheek and felt its song vibrating along his jawbone, up and down his spine and into his skull.

  It took all his resolve, but with a tug, he wrenched the stone from his cheek and placed it in his pocket. Looking around, he was dismayed to realize how long he’d been under the spell of the stone. The others had all returned from their racing around and were huddled around him, sleeping. Only he and Lilibit were awake. Lilibit lay with her head against his knee, the midnight desert rolling past her unblinking eyes.

  The train pulled through another small sleeping town. Todd studied the darkened buildings, their backs turned on the noisy trespasser that rattled through their backyards.

  In the back of a rickety old house, he saw a small window glowing warmly in the darkness. A face of a boy, younger even than Devon, looked out, watching the train pass. As he watched, the boy’s eyes met his and they locked.

  A hand reached down to gently pull the boy back from the window. Todd saw the boy turn his head up to speak to the face that belonged to the hand. He pointed out the window and Todd could almost hear their voices as he told his mother: there’s a boy on the train… I saw him… That’s nice, dear… now it’s time for bed…

  This town belonged to its people and the people belonged to their town. Todd felt a trickle of envy. Maybe they hated their dingy little town. Maybe they felt trapped or bored, but at least they all belonged to this place. And this place belonged to them. All his life Todd had felt like a piece of litter blown around by the wind. Sometimes he landed in one spot long enough to delude himself that he might belong, but then the wind blew again and he would be tossed through the air. Without roots. Without home. Without identity.

  The town passed by and the lights receded into the shadows.

  He felt Lilibit staring at him. He looked down and saw her eyes, wide and knowing, watching him.

  “Kiva,” she whispered.

  She stared at him silently for a long moment before pillowing her head more comfortably on his leg. Then she closed her eyes and slept.

  Todd stared down at the strange child for several minutes. Could she know what he was thinking? Would Kiva be the place where he belonged? A place that belonged to him?

  Todd felt a tension in his chest loosen and ease; a tightness that had been there for so many years, he hadn’t even noticed it until it was gone. Todd looked down at Lilibit’s sleeping head and rustled her hair gently. Then he leaned his head against the side of the steel container and closed his eyes.

  With a small smile, Todd slept.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Little Pine

  The squeal of the train’s brakes woke Todd. It would soon be dawn and the train was pulling to a stop into a small sleepy town. They needed to get off before they were discovered.

  Todd woke the others. They rubbed their eyes and stretched as Todd shouldered his pack and grabbed his staff. In the faint gloom of early morning, they jumped from the slowing train.

  They scuttled around the back of one of the out buildings that fringed the quiet, dusty town. Todd looked at the others and discovered a new problem.

  “We look like crap!” he announced. It had been ten days since the earthquake and those days on the road had left their mark on them. Their clothes were filthy, their faces, muddy, their hair, matted. Not an issue when they were out in the desert, but if they were to pass unnoticed in the town, they needed to clean up.

  Jeff snapped his fingers with the air of a carnival magician. “Follow me,” he said as he strutted down an alley.

  With a wariness born of experience, Todd nodded to the others to follow.

  Jeff led them up and down hushed and deserted streets until he found what he was looking for. With a self-satisfied smile, he pointed ahead.

  A modest motel slouched alongside the railroad tracks. A dozen or so cars parked in its gravel parking lot. Jeff dropped his pack and fished a couple of objects out of the pockets. Then he gestured for the others to stay put while he casually walked down the porch connecting the rooms. He chose a room at the end that had no car parked in front of it and tested the doorknob. Then he crouched down and began to work on the lock. Todd was amazed at his nonchalance, but that quickly turned to dismay as a door further down the strip opened and a man with a suitcase stepped out.

  Then, with a movement so smooth, Jeff tipped an orange out of his pocket, tossed it in the air, and then caught it with a stab of his hand. A second ago, Jeff had been trying to pick a lock. Now, he looked as if he was just some innocent little kid that had woken early and was playing ball by himself. With a seeming slip of his grip, the orange tripped from his hands and rolled down the porch towards the man just as he was about to close his door. With a smile, the man scooped up the orange and handed it to Jeff, who grinned his thanks. Jeff waved goodbye to the car as it pulled out of the parking lot and continued to lob the orange until the car passed out of sight.

  Jeff jerked head, beckoning Todd and the others to join him on the motel porch. With a cheeky wink, Jeff went to the door of the room that the man just vacated. A ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign had somehow wedged itself into the doorframe, preventing it from closing all the way.

  “Gee. I wonder how that got there!” smirked Jeff as he pushed open the door.

  The travelers all quietly entered the room. Before closing the door, Jeff placed the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign onto the doorknob. With a gloating grin, he turned to the others. “Check out time is 11 am. I don’t know about you, but I could use a shower.”

  Several hours later, damp, rumpled, but very much cleaner, the travelers walked down the main street of the small town.

  But Jeff was not done demonstrating his aptitude for ingenuity and deception. He stopped in front of a neat little diner. Cardboard placards filled the windows advertising hamburgers, french fries and shakes. The smell of the grill taunted them.

  “Keep moving, Jeff,” Todd said. “We have no money.”

  “Maybe not,” Jeff responded, “but perhaps plastic will do.”

  With that, he pulled several small vinyl cards out of his pocket.

  The others huddled around, either out of curiosity or out a desire to hide Jeff’s prizes from prying eyes.

  “Those belong to the Callows!” Todd was appalled. “Where did you get them?”

  “Where do you think? Loser!” hooted Jeff. “I found her purse in the rubble.”

  “We can’t use her credit cards, we don’t have any I.D.!” said Marla.

  Todd glared at Marla, wondering if that was her only problem with using cards stolen from the dead.

  “We can use the ATM card and pay cash!” Jeff replied.

  “I don’t think we should use Mrs. Callow’s cards. It’s like stealing,” said Devon somberly.

  “Thank you, Devon,” exclaimed Todd, pleased that someone saw the immorality, if not the morbidity, of the situation.

  Jeff rolled his eyes. “Listen Devon, neither Mister or Missus Callow worked. The only money they had was money the County gave them to take care of us. Any money in their account was for us. If they’re
not here anymore, then it’s only right we appropriate it and use it to take care of ourselves.”

  A silence fell. One by one, the travelers looked to Todd, waiting for his decision.

  Todd was very uncomfortable with it, but he couldn’t dispute Jeff’s logic. Besides, he had no other ideas for feeding them.

  “We don’t know their password,” Todd countered lamely.

  Jeff snorted with contempt. “You don’t think I didn’t hack their password within a month of getting to Dalton Point? They used the cats’ birthdays for everything!”

  “Okay,” Todd agreed after a long silence. “But we keep track of what we spend and we’ll pay it back.”

  Todd knew this was a weak sop for his conscience. Where would they get the money to replace it and to whom would they pay it back?

  Outside a bank, they found a likely ATM. They huddled around Jeff, more out of curiosity than caution.

  “Buggers!” Jeff cursed under his breath.

  “What’s the matter?” Todd felt a surge of panic.

  “They’ve got a low limit on this machine,” Jeff muttered. “I can only get out two hundred dollars.”

  “Two hundred? Do you think we need that much?”

  Jeff shot Todd a look of contempt as two hundred dollars in neat twenty-dollar bills spit out of the machine. The other kids clapped as Jeff grabbed the cash before turning to bow, soaking up his adoring limelight.

  “And now, my good children,” he intoned pompously, “I shall treat you all to cheeseburgers and shakes.”

  “And french fries?” asked Donny with a grin.

  “Only the good children can have French Fries. None for Todd, however, unless his attitude improves.” Jeff smirked a challenge at Todd.

  The travelers laughed and cheered. Even Todd smiled, though he glanced around and rubbed his hair. Something about this situation did not feel right.

  The technician, huddled into the corner of his cubicle, tried to avoid the four people he feared most as they crowded around his desk.

  With the lift of an eyebrow, the Director of Security ordered the technician out of his own chair. The technician obeyed gratefully.

  “W-w-w-e had a hit, s-s-sir,” he stuttered breathlessly peering around the partition. “It was at an M-14 style bank machine in the t-t-town of…”

  The Director banished the technician with a withering glance. He ran down the hall like a mongrel with his tail between his legs.

  “Little Pine Community Savings.” The Director’s fingers sailed across the keyboard, opening and closing windows with a speed he knew only Syxx and himself could follow. “That’s two hundred and eighteen miles east of their last sighting.”

  “Pull up the visual documentation,” Syxx commanded coolly.

  “This does not materially effect our discussion, Syxx,” a female voice snapped sharply.

  Syxx smiled warmly at Dr. Nil and Dr. Voight who had entered the Informational Analysis Department with them. The Director knew that Syxx needed the Doctors to maintain the façade of the Institute. They were to be humored for a little while longer, but when their usefulness was at an end, so would end the patience of Syxx. The Director hid his anticipation.

  “Recent expenditures are obscenely over budget and expense justifications are foully inadequate.” Dr. Nil’s long sharp nose twitched unpleasantly. Her unnaturally blond hair, pulled back into a severe bun, only emphasized the surgically enhanced planes of her austere face.

  Dr. Voight had a round, jolly face. If you did not look too closely at his eyes, you might mistake him for a favorite uncle. Only his eyes, dark, watery, beady and lifeless, gave lie to his humanity. Emerging from her shadow, he opened his mouth to corroborate her statement, only to reconsider and dissolve into an intimidated huff.

  “I can assure you, Doctors,” soothed Syxx warmly, “the end result will justify the expenditure.” He nodded silkily to the doctors, oozing reassurance. “You will not be disappointed.”

  The effect of his voice on Dr. Voight was obvious. He nodded with a sublime smile, glancing up at Dr. Nil for her concurrence. Dr. Nil however, was not so easily swayed and opened her mouth to continue her tirade.

  “We have visual.” The Director cut her off.

  Dr. Nil sniffed at the interruption, but her curiosity prevailed over her desire to rant and she looked over the shoulder of the Director.

  A series of grainy still images flashed over the monitor. The face of Jeffrey Terrance was seen, framed by a bevy of other faces, most partially obscured by the angle of the camera. The Director recognized each of the children from his files.

  An imperious elbow shoved the Director away from the monitor.

  “Let me see that!” spat Dr. Nil, assuming the Director’s seat at the monitor. The Director shot a vacant look at Syxx, who returned the glance expressionlessly.

  “It can’t be,” whispered Dr. Nil breathlessly, her fingers dancing across the across the keyboard. The images on the monitor aimed and focused on a partially obscured face of a small dark haired girl with large almond eyes. “There wasn’t enough left of her to survive!”

  With a spatter of finger action, the monitor revealed a dozen sequential close-ups, each showing the image of Research Subject 1717, aka “Lilibit”.

  The silence in the cubicle congealed with tension. Finally, Dr. Nil spoke.

  “I stand corrected, Syxx. RS 1717’s regenerative powers obviously require additional research.”

  She stood and paced the cubicle, her fingers lightly tapping her temples in concentration.

  “We examined the temporal and parietal thoroughly,” she mumbled to herself. “We removed and dissected most of the frontal lobe and the entire occipital lobe… there was nothing in her DNA to substantiate any extraordinary regenerative qualities…”

  She paced abstractedly while Dr. Voight watched anxiously and the Director and Syxx waited patiently.

  “It must be in the brain stem.” She announced at last. “It will have to be dissected.”

  “Removing the brain stem will certainly terminate RS 1717,” objected Dr. Voight feebly. “Do you think it’s worth the risk?”

  “Nonsense, Doctor. When our final results are published, the entire world will benefit. We are creating an entirely new field of medicine. Regenerative Medicine will completely revolutionize human physiology.” Dr. Nil’s voice rang with passion. “This will be a quantum leap in the evolution of mankind. I will be the supreme sovereign of the medical world.”

  “Um, don’t you mean we?” Dr. Voight’s voice trembled.

  “Oh, yes,” Dr. Nil answered impatiently. “Of course.”

  “And we must not forget those who doubted you,” purred Syxx into Dr. Nil’s ear. “All your colleagues who questioned your brilliance? They must all be made to see the errors of their ways. Can you imagine their chagrin when they hear about your success?”

  Dr. Nil’s eyes glazed with glory. “Yes! Yes!” she breathed.

  The Director hid a smirk.

  “You may continue, Syxx,” declared Dr. Nil. “I have complete confidence in your ability to reclaim RS-1717. Proceed. Regardless of the cost.”

  She turned and left the room, snapping commands into her cell-com as she her heels clicked down the corridor.

  Dr. Voight pausing in her wake, turned to add his opinion, but then thought better of it. With a gulp of air, he exited behind Dr. Nil with more speed than dignity.

  The Director rose to return to his office from where he would dispatch the reclamation teams to the small town of Little Pine. Turning in the doorway, he looked back at Syxx, who stood transfixed by the monitor.

  The screen still displayed a myriad of images of RS 1717. Slowly, he reached down to the keyboard to clear the images, but then a surge of rage poured from his fingertips and he gripped the keyboard in a fit of fury. The sound of splintering plastic mixed with the stench of melting vinyl. He slammed down the crumpled keyboard and left the office abruptly, brushing past the Director, who waite
d in the door.

  Images of Lilibit flickered relentlessly on the monitor.

  A barrage of red slime obliterated the city of Phoenix. It spattered the suburbs, leaving many of its streets unrecognizable under the bloody devastation.

  With a quick swab of a paper napkin, Todd wiped clean the ketchup that spilled on the map. Licking the remains of his hamburger from his fingers, he studied the paper with dismay. He hadn’t expected Kiva to be listed on a map, but he hadn’t really grasped the vastness of the area they needed to cover.

  From his dreams, he recalled flying into the rising sun, past deserts and rivers, canyons and mountains. But at what time of the year? He pulled at his hair. He couldn’t match any of those vivid images onto this lifeless map

  Lilibit squirmed under his arm and pushed her head in front of his to gaze at the map.

  “Any ideas?” he asked without much hope.

  “Nope,” she answered simply. “I don’t know how to read maps.”

  Todd snorted and shook his head as Lilibit scrambled back to her chair to finish her third grilled cheese and pickle sandwich.

  “So?” asked Jeff around a mouthful of french fries. “Where next?”

  “East.” Todd stated, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

  Jeff and Marla moved to look over Todd’s shoulder.

  “Yeah, but how far?” asked Marla.

  “I hope we’ll know when we get there, but I think we should move out.” Todd rubbed the back of his head as he looked over his shoulder. “My hair feels funny. My scalp wants to get moving.”

  “Does what’s underneath your scalp have any ideas as to how we should get there?” Jeff asked.

  “Walk, I suppose,” answered Todd. “Do you have any better ideas?”

  “We could take the bus,” Jeff offered. “We can pay for the tickets with the credit card.”

  “They’ll want to see some I.D.,” said Marla.

  “Not if we order them on-line,” grinned Jeff.

  The small library in the town of Little Pine had only one public computer terminal. Todd and Marla watched as Jeff expertly navigated through all the screens. Within seconds, the timetables for the buses that ran to Phoenix scrolled down the monitor. The terminal was a twenty minute walk away and the next bus left in an hour and forty minutes. With the tickets purchased and waiting for them at the station, they decided to wait the hour in the library.