by Edge, T. C.
Slowly, Theo walks in, the door falling shut behind him. There's a silence now, as everyone waits, looking at each other, not knowing what to do.
“How long will it take?” asks Lorna.
“As long as it needs to,” comes Ajax's cryptic reply.
So we wait as the minutes pass. No one speaks, no one makes a sound. All eyes stay fixed to the door, watching and waiting.
It must be 30 minutes before there's a sound, and the door finally clicks open. Theo's face appears, pale and sweating, his hair ruffled and out of place. I can see his chest heaving, his hands shaking, as he walks through and slumps into a chair. Ajax walks towards him and puts his arm around over his shoulders, lifting him from his seat and ushering him towards a door at the side of the room. They walk in together, before Ajax comes back out once again a few moments later.
“So, who's next?” he asks, looking around the group. Instinctively, everyone ducks their heads and avoids eye contact with him. Then Link's voice rings out in the room.
“I'll go,” he says. “If he can do it, so can I.”
Link stands from his seat and walks confidently towards the door. He grasps the handle quickly with his hand and, without delay, pulls it open. Once more I get a brief glimpse inside. I see high walls and machines everywhere. I see people working, dressed in grey clothes and covered in soot and dirt and fumes. Then, just as quickly as the door opened, it shuts behind him.
Now Ajax is moving back towards the other door where he guided Theo. He disappears inside for a few minutes before they both reappear, Theo now looking a little more perky. He walks in confidently again, that smirk returning to his face, and sits casually in his seat. To me, it all looks like one big act.
Again we wait, a silence descending on the room but for a few questions directed at Theo. He brushes them off and tells everyone to wait their turn, then they'll know for themselves. Most probably he just doesn't want to talk about it.
When Link returns, he's sweaty and dirty looking, his clothing singed in places and his face covered in soot. He coughs as he enters, Ajax once more guiding him through into the other room.
“Agricola, why don't you go next?”
I look over to see Theo staring at me. “I think it's time for a girl to give it a try, don't you?”
A general rumble of agreement sounds through the boys, while the other girls just look at me, waiting for my response.
“You don't have to,” says Ellie. “All the boys should go before the girls.”
“Tighten up your tongue,” bites Theo. “We're all in this together, remember. There's no gender inequality in here.”
I turn to Ellie, ignoring Theo's presence entirely. “We've all gotta do it Ellie, so I might as well get mine over with.”
“That's the spirit. Maybe you mainlanders aren't as pathetic as I thought,” says Theo.
I ignore him again and start walking to the door, just as Ajax reappears. “Cyra, you're going in?”
I nod.
“Good girl. Remember, fear is your ally. Embrace it in there, don't run from it.”
I lift my hand to the door handle, my heart quickening. I twist and the door opens a crack, bright sunlight pouring through it from beyond. It grows brighter and more intense as I pull the door open and step through, the door shutting quietly behind me.
I turn and the door has gone, the wall vanished. The ground beneath my feet feels soft and uneven now, not hard like the solid floor. I squint in the sudden light and, gradually, the world grows clearer in my eyes. I see shapes of hills in the distance, undulating mounds crossing the landscape. Everywhere it's yellow and brown and orange, the sorts of colours I'm used to.
But I've never seen this landscape before. Not in reality. The ground is made up of sandy patches mingled with hard, parched earth. Nothing grows except tangled bushes and sharp cacti. I catch glimpses of vermin scuttling through the brush, hear the sound of a snake rattling close to my feet.
I turn in every direction and see a desert, a barren, broken landscape, stretching far and wide. Then I see it, appearing through the shroud of sand blowing on the wind. The huge fortress wall, standing high into the air, built of solid rock and metal. I hear the sounds of gunfire ringing out over the wasteland, see shadows of people rushing along the top of it against the glowing orange of the setting sun.
I begin moving forward, my feet sinking into patches of sand as I go. The noise grows ever louder, the sounds of cannons and artillery and huge weapons exploding from the defensive bastions stationed at intervals along the wall.
All around me the earth shakes, animals scurrying in the opposite direction. The darkening sky flashes with light as hundreds of weapons fire at once. A strong wind drives at me, holding me back, as I continue to fight my way forward. Sand fills my eyes, my nose, my ears, obscuring my vision and senses.
I drive on towards the wall, the details of the soldiers growing into view. Many look young, their faces fresh and innocent. They rush this way and that under orders from their Officers, who point and direct, shouting loud above the din.
My eyes fall on one, his arms strong and tanned, his hair blond and shining under the dying light. He stands tall, a weapon locked against his shoulder, shouting down the line at his men.
I see people shot, parts of the wall exploding under enemy fire. Soldiers fall with a slump, dropping where they stand. Others are blown from the top as explosive shells rip into the upper level. I hear screaming as an incendiary device blankets an entire section in fire. Soldiers, too young to die, burst into flames as the fire licks at their skin, cooking their flesh.
I can hardly look now, but am unable to turn away, as if my eyes are locked in place. They direct back to the blond man, still shouting and shooting from behind a rampart. Bullets whiz by, leaving trails of light in their wake, as he ducks his head for cover.
When he raises it again, I see it immediately jolt back. His body goes limp, his arms falling to his sides, and he falls backwards against a railing. Over he goes, his momentum carrying him over the top, his weight dropping storey after storey and hitting the earth with a thud.
I'm drawn forward to the very base of the wall, my eyes locked to the body on the ground. He lies face down, his helmet awkwardly skewed on his head, his arms and legs bent in unnatural ways.
I lean down to him, the world ending around me, and roll his body carefully over. I peel back his helmet, a bullet hole torn through it, and feel my hands begin to shake, my heart begin to drum.
I wipe the blood from his forehead, straining his beautiful skin crimson. His blue eyes stare vacantly, bright as the morning sky, yet lifeless and empty. I can hardly breathe, hardly think, as the tears begin rolling down my cheeks.
The final person I care about. The final person I love. Taken from me, like everyone else.
I'm looking at the face of Jackson.
12 - Fight or Flight
My eyes are still wet when the world around me changes. I hardly notice it. Just the colours of red and orange and brown fading in the corners of my eyes, replaced with the dark grey tones of the large open hall. The last thing to fade before me is Jackson, his body slowly overcome by darkness until he's completely gone.
I'm left, on my knees, my hands still red with blood, my body still covered in dust and sand, my head still filled with the sight of Jackson's dead body. I stay there for minutes, shaking and unable to stand, until I manage to muster the strength to rise to my feet and turn back to the door.
Around me now, the hall is as long and wide and empty as it was yesterday. Nothing remains. No open landscape. No desert and tundra. No wall, no soldiers, no death and destruction.
My legs are feeble beneath me as I return to the door and compose myself. When I open it, I see fearful faces raise up to meet mine. They look upon me as I looked upon Theo and Link as they returned. Frowning at the sight of me, covered in the stains of the desert, my hands caked with red blood and dark brown dirt.
Ajax is quickly by my side, leading me towar
ds the other door, guiding me through and into the room beyond. It's like the room from yesterday when he spoke to us individually: lifeless and plain, with only two seats sitting opposite each other.
He sits me down before positioning himself opposite me, my head hung low, my chin quivering above my chest.
“Was all that real?” I ask, my voice trembling. “Was it a vision?”
Ajax's words are soothing yet firm. “Not a vision, no. Just a manifestation of your greatest fear. Tell me Cyra, what did you see.”
I raise my eyes to his. “I saw the same thing again. The desert, the wall, the soldiers. They were fighting someone on the other side. It was....chaos,” I whisper.
“What else?” asks Ajax. “Was it just a battleground you saw?”
I shake my head. “I saw him die,” I say. “My best friend.”
Ajax looks at me quizzically. “Your best friend....is a boy?”
I understand his puzzlement. Just revealing to him that Jackson is my best friend might get me in trouble. Somehow, that doesn't seem relevant right now.
“He was,” I say. “He was assigned for service at the Divide.”
“And you watched him die?” Ajax asks again.
I nod. “It's my greatest fear, isn't it?” I ask. “Watching him die.”
Ajax thinks for a moment before answering. “Yes, but it's more than that. Your greatest fear is losing everyone you love. You've lost your father and your mother, you've been dragged from everything you know. Your friend is the last remnant of your old life, of how you define yourself. Your greatest fear is losing him, and losing yourself.”
There's a knock at the door, and Link appears. “Commander Ajax,” he says, his clothes still tattered and burned and face covered in soot, “Rupert is going in next. I thought you'd better know.”
“Yes, of course,” says Ajax, standing quickly. “Thank you, Link.”
He walks to the door and disappears beyond it as I share a nervous smile with Link. I begin to wonder what he saw, what horrible experience he went through. He said he was scared of fire, and his scarred clothes would suggest he truly lived that terror. Like he told me, accidents are common where he's from. His father even died in one. Perhaps a fire in the factory he worked in. I can imagine, after what I've just been through, how terrifying that must have been.
When Ajax returns, he asks me more questions, squeezing as much detail as possible as he can from my experience. It's the fear of losing Jackson, he tells me, that I have to embrace. I need to learn to use that fear, to let it fill me up and, in time, learn to control it. Only then will my visions grow clearer and more complete. Only then will I be able to develop the other Watcher abilities.
Back in the room, Ellie waits for me, her face a picture of worry and concern. One by one, they go in. Amir and Anders, the twins and then Kyle. Each time they reappear, some of them drenched in sweat and pale like Theo was, others showing visible signs on their clothes and uncovered skin of what they've been through. Tears and rips and patches of red. But no one ever returns injured, not seriously at least.
I give Ellie a short pep talk as her time approaches. I tell her it's not actually real. That it's all just a simulation. What I don't tell her, however, is the truth. That inside it feels real, that every sound and smell and sight is as real is the world around us right now. That inside, you wouldn't know any different.
When she goes in, I imagine what she must be seeing. Snakes, she said, were what she was most scared of. I wonder if that's true. I wonder if she'll find herself in the forest, snakes surrounding her, unable to fight her way out. Will they bite her, attack her, bringing back memories of when she was bitten as a child?
She walks out like the others, face colder and greyer than normal, eyes a little wider, lips shut tight together. Like all of us, Ajax leads her in for a debrief before they both return together a few minutes later. By now, the entire room is drained and lost to their own thoughts. No one speaks. No one smiles or stands up to fetch a glass of water. We all just sit, as one, absorbed in our fears.
Ajax moves ahead of us as Ellie sits down, his eyes cold and filled with intent. “This will be the worst day,” he says. “Nothing will be harder. Remember this feeling, bottle it, use it. If you run from it, you will fail. A Watcher must learn to hold onto their fears and treat them as their ally. If you cannot do that, you will never become a Watcher.”
A voice creaks from one of the twins. Everyone looks at her as she raises her head, her sister's arm tightly wound over her shoulder. “But what if we....don't want to be a Watcher?” she asks, her voice brittle.
Ajax's face hardens, his chin rising, his eyes narrowing. “Being a Watcher is not a privilege,” he says, “it is a duty. Your gift helps save lives. That is your purpose.”
“But...” croaks the girl again.
“But nothing,” says Ajax. “If you fail, you will be reassigned. But if you walk away, if you don't even try, you will be banished.”
I look into Ajax's eyes, a fierceness in them that he hasn't yet shown. His appearance is tough and intimidating, yet so far he's appeared nurturing and fair. Now, though, I'm seeing him in a different light. He, just like everyone else, is part of a system, and this is part of his duty. You will either sink or swim, but if you fail to even jump into the water, there will be dire consequences.
“You wouldn't banish me.” The voice comes from the back, from Theo, staring up at Ajax. “My parents wouldn't allow it.”
“Your parents?” says Ajax, his words oozing menace. “You have no parents now. I don't care who you are. You answer to me, and me alone.”
Theo stands, his chair thrust back behind him. “You have no idea who you're talking to, do you?!” he barks. “My parents are close with High Chancellor Knight. Would you deny him as well?”
“I assure you Theo, the rules apply to you too. They are the rules set down by Chancellor Knight, by your parents. They would not break them for a spoilt brat, too afraid to face his fears.”
Theo steps forwards quickly, moving up to confront Ajax, his face a vision of thunder. He stands ahead of him, his fist curled into a ball, as if he's about to strike. But Ajax's face remains like stone, his body a statue. He doesn't flinch, he doesn't move. He just stands, staring, waiting for Theo to act.
They stare at each other for a moment, until Theo speaks, his mouth twisted into a snarl.
“I can't listen to this any more,” he says, before quickly turning from Ajax and storming out of the door.
A silence descends into the room as the remaining recruits awkwardly look at each other.
“I apologise for that,” says Ajax, regaining his composure. “I should not have spoken like I did. But believe me, you will try, or you will find yourself beyond the Divide.” He glances at me. “Now go, and all of you take a long look in the mirror.”
He begins walking towards the door leading into the Grid. “I'll see you back here tomorrow morning,” he says, opening the door and walking through. Beyond, I see the sight of raging water approaching, just before the door slams shut.
13 - Surface Level 8
When we return to the Grid the following morning, we're short one person. We wait patiently for Theo to arrive, but he never does. Eventually, Ajax flows into his routine and the day begins.
One by one, we each enter the Grid again. This time, however, there's an even greater sense of fear in the air, so intense it's palpable. When Ajax asks for a volunteer to step up, not even Link answers the call. As a result, he turns to nominating people, calling for Rupert to go in first.
The wait for my turn is excruciating. I know that what's happening in there isn't truly real, but when you're in the thick of it, it might as well be. Somehow the entire manifestation makes you believe it's happening, like stepping into a dream. You never know you've been dreaming until you wake up, and while you're in the depths of your subconscious, you're at its mercy.
When I enter this time, I walk into a different situation. It's not
like before. There's no desert, no wasteland and soldiers. There's no war, no flash of lights and sounds of gunfire. This time, it's just me and Jackson.
It's dark all around, but for the form of a body under a light ahead of me. I follow into the darkness and kneel by Jackson's side. He's frail and weak looking, his skin pallid and eyes grey. I know, immediately, that he's infected with the virus.
He croaks weakly as we speak. I tell him I miss him, that I miss our secret meetings in the woods, our glances across at each other in class. That I miss his voice, his devotion to his family, to me. That I think about him every day, that he's all I have left that I truly care about.
I tell him everything I never got to tell him before. Everything I was too afraid or proud to say. He smiles, his face withered and older than I remember, and holds his hand to my cheek. Then his eyes glaze over, and he dies in front of me once more.
I return from the Grid just as dazed as before. Ajax tells me it will take time to adjust, that each time I enter the Grid things will be different. That this time my grief for my mother was also a factor. That I'd linked together her death with the fear of losing Jackson.
The days pass, and each time it gets more difficult to go inside, knowing what awaits me. Yet we all keep going, day after day, subjecting ourselves to these horrors in the hope that soon they'll grow easier.
It's the end of the week when, finally, Theo re-appears. He walks in, tail between his legs, and stands up in front of everyone to apologise to Ajax and beg him to let him continue training. Right then and there, my respect for Ajax triples.
He doesn't rub it in or humiliate Theo. He merely thanks him for his apology and tells him he's welcome back. He also tells the entire group that what we're all experiencing is natural, but that things will get easier in time.
For the rest of that day, Theo's face looks as though it's about to erupt in another outburst, but he stays quiet. It's hard to know who forced him back down here, but clearly he thinks he's above it all. As Leeta told us, everyone expected him to follow in his parents' footsteps, perhaps join the Council in years to come. To have some influence on the future of Eden and live in the lap of luxury.