Realms Unreel (2011)

by Audrey Auden

Emmie looked at him fearfully.

  “What about Naoto?”

  “Goran will take care of him,” said Amos, “Don’t worry.”

  Amos pulled a minuscule LED from a pocket and flicked it on. Emmie flinched when Amos put his hand on her shoulder, exerting a light but irresistible pressure that compelled her to step forward and start the descent.

  Amos’ tiny light cast strange shadows on the unfinished walls, here and there turning small protrusions in the rock into nightmarish profiles and reaching arms. Ahead of her, Dom cast no shadow at all. Emmie tried to block out her awareness of everything except her feet, focusing on each rough-hewn step as it emerged from the darkness below into the pool of Amos’ white light.

  The staircase spiraled steeply down through solid rock. As they descended, the chill air seemed to grow heavier and harder to breathe. Emmie counted twelve times twelve, and the pressure seemed to ease at last as they neared the bottom and the stairs widened. She came to the last step, which, as promised, dropped over two feet to the ground below.

  She hopped down after Dom onto the uneven floor, eager to detach herself from Amos’ grip but unable to go far, as the pool of light cast by his LED extended only a few steps ahead. She turned to face Amos. His mane of white-blonde hair seemed to glow in the darkness, and his blue eyes reflected two piercing points of light. She thought she should be afraid of him, but her mind had grown strangely calm. She felt that her answer, that Dom’s answer, was close at hand.

  Amos lifted the light above his head and clicked twice. The pool of light tripled in size, and Emmie looked around.

  They had arrived at a vault, whose ceiling was formed by three rows of three domes supported by sixteen round stone columns. The domes glittered with patterned mosaics formed by small tiles of green, blue, violet, and black. The colorful upper half of the vault contrasted with the rough-hewn bedrock beneath her feet, which was covered in a glittering, greyish-white powder.

  A pointed archway opposite the staircase led out of the vault into a dark space beyond. As Amos ushered her forward through the archway, Emmie realized that she must be standing directly beneath the entryway of the church above.

  She stepped through the archway into a cavernous chamber whose scale, in the darkness, could be guessed only because of a square outline in the ceiling above. This was formed by a few narrow panels of translucent stone, which glowed with a faint suggestion of daylight. This was the only source of light in the chamber other than Amos’ LED, and the sum of the two was insufficient to fully illuminate the space.

  Emmie could make out a large central dome circumscribed by the glowing square of translucent stone, as well as the tops of four pillars supporting the dome. Below the dome, the ceiling sloped downward and outward until it disappeared into the darkness at the edges of the chamber. Emmie had the impression that she was standing inside a hollowed-out hill, or perhaps a great tomb.

  A trickling sound echoed through the space from some unseen place ahead, and the smell of water hung heavy in the air. She looked at Dom, whose face she could barely make out in the dim light. He was gazing toward the source of that sound.

  “Is this it?” she asked Dom in a whisper.

  He peered ahead into the darkness.

  “I do not know.”

  “Indeed it is,” said Amos, hearing only her question, “It’s taken a great deal of trouble for us both, but now here we are.”

  Emmie swallowed and turned to Amos.

  “I didn’t think what I was looking for was going to be in some underground cave.”

  Amos held up his light and ushered her forward, saying,

  “Why don’t we go and have a look.”

  Emmie followed her long shadow toward the center of the chamber, until Amos’ light flashed suddenly on something monstrous, tall, and white up ahead.

  “Stop,” Amos said loudly, but Emmie had already frozen in her tracks. Amos caught up to her and shone his light ahead of them.

  They stood before a massive, gnarled pomegranate tree, its swirling bark as white as snow, its twisted branches bare of leaves. She and Dom stared up at it together. Even in this ghostly state, Emmie recognized it at once.

  “Yes,” she said softly, “That’s it.”

  At the base of the tree stood a shoulder-high slab of pale red stone bearing an inscription in letters that might have been the common ancestor of all the texts Midori had ever gathered. Emmie took a small step toward the stone to have a closer look, but Amos reached out and grabbed her arm, holding her back with a firm grip.

  “I’m afraid that only those initiated into the mysteries are allowed to stand before the spring,” said Amos, repositioning his light to reveal, just beside the tree, a round pool ringed with smooth tiles. Water bubbled up darkly from the center and flowed outward, emptying somewhere beneath the tiles.

  “It seems a little late for that, doesn’t it?” said Emmie, twisting her arm in a futile attempt to escape his grip, “I’m standing here already.”

  “In this particular case, we have considered the possibility of a rather unconventional initiation.”

  Emmie took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice level as she said,

  “Who’s we?”

  Amos looked at her thoughtfully, then let go of her arm, taking a step back to stand between her and the spring.

  “We have been called by many names. I think you have heard at least one?”

  “Stewards.”

  “Yes. Stewards. And do you have any idea who we are?”

  Emmie eyed him coldly and, with more bravado than she felt, said,

  “I guess you’re a bunch of murderers.”

  “Well, now, it’s not as clear-cut as that,” said Amos, sounding slightly perturbed, “I’ll be the first to admit that there have been unfortunate casualties in our work. But over the course of time, one does come to accept the reality that sometimes a few must be sacrificed for the sake of the many.”

  “Or maybe over the course of time, one gets to be pretty good at rationalization.”

  “Now, Miss Bridges,” Amos sighed theatrically, “I know you’ve suffered a great personal tragedy. For my role in that, I apologize. But before you start casting aspersions, consider the part you yourself have played in all this. Through your obsessive quest to put dangerous information in the public domain, you have imperiled yourself, as well as your collaborators.”

  Emmie felt sick at the thought of them all: Tomo, Owen, Naoto, Amaterasu, and perhaps the entire anonymous collective, as well. And, she realized suddenly, if Dom was telling the truth, the list might span generations. Midori might not have been the first to cross the Stewards.

  Amos nodded as if he knew what she was thinking.

  “Yes, well, you weren’t the first, and you won’t be the last, I’m sure. The prospect of eternal life has driven many men to take far greater risks.

  “So perhaps you can forgive my … rationalizations? Imagine a world in which every man knew that eternal life was within reach. What man would not desire such a thing? What man would not risk everything to obtain it? Imagine the chaos as men fought to control the source of eternal life.”

  Amos looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to agree with him.

  “Look, Amos,” said Emmie, frustrated, “I didn’t come here for that spring. I don’t care about eternal life. All I want is to have a look at that tree. That’s it.”

  Amos chuckled.

  “I find that hard to believe, given all the trouble you’ve taken to find this place.

  “But be that as it may, your reason makes no difference to us. We Stewards have a sacred duty, to preserve what is beautiful and good in the world, to protect mankind from its own destructive impulses. We control information that would be dangerous in the wrong hands.

  “Assassination is a regrettable expedient. It’s also unsustainable in our ever-more-closely surveilled world. We risked a great deal of exposure trying to prevent Midori Shimahashi’s research from spreadin
g, and still you managed to piece together our secret. Our old methods are not up to the task of addressing emerging threats to information control. We’re not blind to the fact. We’ve fallen more than a few steps behind the times.

  “But you, you’ve managed to keep more than a step ahead. You probably could have evaded us for much longer, had we not had a rare stroke of luck coordinating a raid on Falsens’ headquarters while you were in transit.

  “We could put your talents to good use. With more practice, more resources, more time, you could be a tremendous force for good in the world.”

  Emmie stared at Amos in disbelief, then started to laugh involuntarily, a laugh that sounded slightly hysterical as it echoed against the walls of the chamber. When at last she managed to stifle herself, she sniffed and said,

  “You’re telling me you’re a headhunter? You’re making me an offer?”

  “Help us preserve the peace and security of the world. Help us keep dangerous knowledge from those who would use it for evil. We will give you the tools you need, resources beyond your imagining, as well as the unlimited time that comes from the greatest secret we keep,” he said, turning and extending an open hand toward the spring.

  “It’s a nice idea, Amos. But — It’s just ridiculous. Don’t you get it? This will all get out, eventually, one way or another. Information wants to be free.”

  Amos sighed, closing his hand and letting it fall to his side.

  “A sentiment popular among your glib generation. But, no, Miss Bridges, you underestimate the depth of our resolve, the extent of our resources, and the importance of our mission. We keep the darkness of this world at bay.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Emmie watched Dom walking slowly to the edge of Amos’ light, toward the dark pool.

  “Think, Miss Bridges. I am giving you the opportunity to stop the spread of evil in the world, to stop the spread of unnecessary suffering. You could help create a better world, a world of truth and beauty that endures.”

  Dom stopped and turned around, looking curiously at Amos. Emmie felt a quiver along her connection to Dom, some realization, but she was not sure what it was. Amos continued,

  “You can save innocent lives. Lives that have already been put at risk by the tremendous information leak for which you are entirely responsible.”

  Emmie blinked rapidly, distracted from Dom by Amos’ words.

  “What? Whose lives are you talking about?”

  “Well, it’s difficult to predict. But it’s inevitable, given all the material that slipped through our fingers into offshore locations beyond our reach.

  “I would imagine … First, some clever scholars making astute connections as they translate the source documents. Then a thousand conspiracy theorists spinning out a thousand conspiracy theories, until there’s a close enough encounter with the truth to inspire a curious visitor or two, perhaps even a team of treasure hunters with a swarm of reality television cameras, to come knocking on these doors. All of them will need to be dealt with. Every single one.”

  “Really?” Emmie huffed, “All that crap about ‘regrettable expedients,’ and you’re telling me your information control plan is just to slaughter anyone who stumbles along into this?”

  “You can help us do a better job, Miss Bridges. We need fresh perspectives, new ways of doing things. It can be difficult to adapt to new things, with so much memory of the old to contend with.”

  “Now there’s the real downside to immortality.”

  “I’m sure you’d find that the advantages more than outweigh little drawbacks like that,” said Amos, unconsciously smoothing back his hair and moistening his lips.

  Emmie shook her head.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t want to work with you. I don’t want to work for you. All I want is to take a look at that tree, and afterwards I don’t want to come here ever again. And I sure as hell don’t want to tell anyone else to come here, knowing what you so-called Stewards are all about.”

  Amos nodded slowly.

  “I understand. This must have been an unexpected proposition, certainly. But I have made an effort in good faith to show you what we can offer. I believe you could do more good with us than without. But unfortunately I cannot allow you to leave here under any terms other than your full agreement.”

  Amos withdrew the silver weapon from his jacket pocket. Emmie’s mouth went dry, and she backed away a step. She exchanged a look with Dom, whose eyes had locked on hers.

  “Could I have a minute, just to think things over?”

  Amos nodded,

  “Of course, my dear. I have all the time in the world.”

  ∞

  Emmie raked her fingers through her hair, staring up into the dim grey light drifting down from the chamber ceiling. She wracked her brain for a reasonable course of action, but her mind seemed determined instead to project a series of whimsical solutions onto the gloomy emptiness surrounding her. Her Amaranthian guild members from Eleusis, led by Otaku, stormed out from the shadows to pummel Amos into submission. A forest of writhing fractals sprang up from the ground, providing cover for her to run to the archway. The spectral tree in the center of the room morphed into the living, blooming tree out of hers and Dom’s memory, growing taller and taller until she could climb up to the very top of the chamber and burst through the ceiling onto the sunlit hilltop above.

  Emmie’s gaze drifted downward, and she looked past Amos to the old tree bent over the dark fountainhead, its brittle, shrunken branches offering no hope of escape. As she watched, a glittering droplet on the tip of the branch stretching farthest out over the water fell into the dark pool with a plunk. The tiny ripples spread from the center to the edges, distorting the reflection of the pale branches. The ripples disappeared beneath the circular lip of smooth tiles, and for a moment the waters lay still.

  A flash of reflected sunlight suddenly dazzled her. She blinked in surprise and saw in the pool a strip of clear blue sky framing the dark cliff across which spread the white tiers of the Temple City, gleaming in the morning sun.

  “Dom!” Emmie gasped.

  “What?” said Dom and Amos at once.

  “There, don’t you see —” she said, taking an involuntary step toward the pool.

  “Don’t move!” Amos shouted, rushing toward her with the silver weapon in his hand extended, just as Dom shouted, “Emmie, stop!”

  Emmie froze as she felt the tip of Amos’ weapon brush the skin of her neck. She stared up at Amos wide-eyed, terrified. He shook his head in displeasure, nostrils flaring, and traced the icy metal point slowly across her throat as he stepped behind her. He reached around her with his free arm and pulled her into a headlock.

  Emmie’s eyes began to tear up from the pressure of Amos’ forearm on her neck, and her eyelids fluttered. She felt the warmth of Amos’ body pressed against hers and the scratch of his wool jacket sleeve beneath her chin. He smelled faintly of expensive cologne and cigars.

  The ghostly form of the great tree swam before her eyes momentarily before snapping back into focus once more. She saw Dom’s face drawing close to hers, his eyes filled with tears. His trembling fingers reached out to meet her cheek, but his touch was as insubstantial as the air.

  “Emmie,” he whispered, “I am sorry. I am sorry.”

  “Look —” she choked, pointing toward the surface of the pool, gritting her teeth against the pain of Amos’ crushing grip, “There —”

  On the surface of the water, she saw as clear as day a passageway. This tree was the axis around which the worlds turned, and at its root was the point from which each world unfurled. Dom must see it.

  Emmie struggled to break free from Amos, to regain her breath to speak to Dom, but Amos lifted her off the ground so that her feet kicked uselessly. She felt the pressure of the metal point against her neck increasing.

  With a tremendous effort, Emmie reached backwards over her head and grabbed two great handfuls of Amos’ hair. He roared with pain and dropped Emmie to t
he ground, but she did not let go, instead pulling him with all her might toward the edge of the dark pool.

  “Stop!” Amos cried, “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

  “Dom,” Emmie shouted fiercely, “Follow me!”

  She leapt into the dark water, hauling Amos in after her by his hair.

  She felt the water closing over her head, Amos thrashing in her grasp, and a strong current pulling them down, down, down. She felt the tip of his silver weapon strike her in the chest, and everything went dark.

  ∞

  A thousand lives of Ava flashed before Dom’s eyes as he watched Emmie tumbling into the pool, hauling Amos in after her by his mane of white-blonde hair. The light of Amos’ sinking LED illuminated the two of them locked in swirling combat beneath the water, until the great undertow of the underground river grabbed hold of them, sucking them down into darkness. For an instant, Dom stood alone beside the great tree, staring down at the surface of the pool in horror. When the chamber around him began to blur, he knew that the sting of death in Amos’ hand had struck home.

  Dom’s tether to Emmie snapped as her awareness drifted out of the world, and Dom felt his own awareness come crashing back to his body in an explosion of white light. He opened his eyes and was momentarily blinded by the morning sun streaming in through the open eastern entryway of his sculpting pavilion.

  He climbed unsteadily to his feet. Before him stood the unfinished sculpture of Ava. He looked up into the unseeing eyes of stone, the face frozen in the moment of enlightenment. He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping his head between his hands as if to crush the memory of Emmie struggling helplessly in Amos’ arms.

  He roared with despair. Emmie had given him his chance to stand before the great tree once more, but whatever it was she had seen, Dom had once again been blind to it. All the suffering he had brought into her life, all the lifetimes she had sacrificed to return him to that place, all had been for nothing. She had once more been cheated of life, and still he was cheated of death.