Mortal Lock

by Andrew Vachss

  YOUNG WOMAN

  Cain had to go in front of the Video-Counsel. It turned out the Rule really hadn’t changed at all—the Drover was lying. But they said Cain should have put in a Dispute Ticket. Cain told them, by the time the ticket was processed, I would be gone. They said that didn’t matter—killing is against the Rules. So they put Cain Outside.

  SHOW:

  A teenage boy and girl standing before a video screen. On the screen:

  UYUT77-KJ09

  OUTSIDE

  RB11L-M331

  SEX TUNNEL AT YEAR 16

  YOUNG WOMAN

  That’s when I decided to go, Lynny. If I just stayed around and waited until my Year 16 to go into the Sex Tunnels, then what Cain did, it was all for nothing. I figured if they can put you Outside, there had to be a way to get to Outside, too.

  I couldn’t go out the way they took Cain. That way is guarded. And there’s always a crowd of people standing around, waiting to see if anyone comes back. They all want the first person to come back to be theirs. Nobody has ever come back yet, so the crowd is big, really, really big; I saw it for myself. I went there when they took Cain. Some actually live there now. Just waiting.

  So I just kept walking, until I was out of the Charted Zone.

  I can’t tell you where I went after that. Or who I stayed with. I can’t take a chance that the Rulers might be listening. They haven’t found the channel to Outside yet, or they would have closed it off.

  Listen to me, Lynny: The Rulers lie. Cain didn’t die from the bad air. He didn’t die from the Terror, either. I know this for sure. Because I found him.

  You know what we have, Lynny? A baby. Our own baby.

  Other people have babies here, too. They protect the babies. The Travelers said people learned that from the animals. The Terror only killed the humans, not the animals. I mean, sure, a lot of animals died. But not their ways.

  We don’t have Rules here. But there are things you can’t do. Like a contract everyone signs. If we didn’t have one, we would all die. Like, you can’t take somebody’s tools. If you get caught doing that, you have to pay it back double. But the most important thing is about children; they call it the Unspoken Law. You can’t hurt children here, Lynny. It’s not like Underground, even though the Rule there sounds the same. In Underground, you can’t hurt children either, unless you own them. But here, you can’t hurt any children, even your own. You can’t have sex with them either, no matter how many credits you have. Not that we have credits up here, but you understand what I’m telling you.

  We call ourselves the People. If we catch anyone hurting a child, they have to go away. And they have to leave the child they hurt behind.

  With us.

  In the beginning, the ones who had to go, the Loners, they kept moving. But no matter where they went, nobody wanted them. So they tried to form a group of their own, like a crew, but then they started fighting with each other. So now they stay away from everyone.

  You can feel them sometimes. At night, by the fire, you can feel them looking down at us.

  Every group has its own code. That’s what it’s called up here, Lynny … a code. A Moral Code. That means, you live a certain way because it’s right. Even if there are no Rules to make you.

  Some of the groups are called Families. Not spray, like in Underground; it doesn’t have anything to do with your blood. Our Family is called the Warriors. We guard the other Families. That’s our work, like the Weavers and the Builders have their work. We don’t trade, not like the Exchanges in Underground. But we all have what we need because we all have each other’s work.

  And I have a name now, Lynny. A real name. My own birth-name plus my Family name. So I’m not Rachel/RB11L-M331 anymore. I am Rachel Guardian now.

  One of the old Travelers told us that Outside is just another word for Starting Over. We are Beginning Again, he said.

  It’s not like Underground, my sister. Sometimes it’s cold and sometimes it’s hot. There are animals. Big ones, so big they are scary. And some of the humans hunt, too. It’s not quiet and clean and safe, like it is Underground.

  But if our Codes win, Outside will be a better place than Underground ever was.

  And if we lose, we just die, that’s all. That’s the code of our family: Die Trying.

  The ones who get put Outside are the ones who broke the Rules. That means the Rulers are sending us the best. I know, some of them aren’t the best. But plenty of them are.

  I wanted to go back down into the tunnels and show people the way out, but Cain said if too many people came out at once, there would be an overload. And that would stop our Code from growing. Besides, he was afraid for me.

  But Cain’s a man, sister. He’s my man, but he’s still a man. My heart doesn’t have a brain, but it knows what’s right. It’s so easy now, to know what’s right.

  This damn tape is almost done. Listen, my sister … sister-of-my-spray, sister-for-real, sister-of-my-Family, sister-of-my-Code. Listen now: When we were very small we had a game; a game of counting. Please remember. You could do any calculations in your head. Please remember, Lynny. Remember the time I counted the most cargo crates on the Conveyor? The most anyone had ever counted? Take that number, the number I counted, all right? Now take thirty-one and a quarter percent of that number, and round it off to the nearest hundredth. When you’re ready, go back to the tunnel where you last saw me. Then walk that number of steps times twelve. No more, no less. When you get there, stop! You’ll be in the Uncharted Zone, but nobody will bother you if you stay there. Just wait.

  Bring food and water. It may take a while, a long while even. But someone will come. They will ask your name. When you tell them, they’ll lead you to the channel to Outside. Those people are a Family too. My Family. My first Family. But they’re not coming Outside for a while; their work is to Guide.

  Come Outside, sister. We’re starting over. Come be with us. Walk into the darkness, and you can come into the light.

  FADE TO BLACK

  FADE IN ON:

  TECH

  By this we learn that Connection requires Courage.

  She bows again as we …

  FADE TO BLACK

  OPEN TO INT: Gathering Hall

  A Latino-appearing man is at the podium. He is impeccably groomed, very “Latin-lover” in appearance. He speaks with only a trace of a Spanish accent.

  LATINO AT PODIUM

  (as if passing judgment)

  Welcome, Solon and Sensa. Your wish to present as a unit will be honored.

  He rather elaborately steps aside, making an ushering movement with his hands. A man and a woman take the podium. The man is short and slim; the female is both taller and heavier-built. The only physical characteristic they share is a blue lightning bolt branded into the right side of their faces.

  SENSA

  (unaggressive but inexorable)

  The Book of the Mission is the parent of all. We are here to do its work.

  FADE OUT on her speaking

  COME IN ON:

  INT: Interrogation chamber

  A hooded woman—THE QUESTIONER—waits serenely. A door opens and a Young Man is marched inside by two people wearing full-body coverings: impossible to determine their age, sex, or any other characteristic, except that they are both much larger than their charge. The Young Man has been branded: BOOK BOY has been laser-engraved across his forehead … in blue, as if to mock his life’s work.

  The Book Boy is pushed into a seat across from the Questioner.

  Utter silence.

  Time passes.

  The same two figures enter, and remove the Book Boy.

  The same scene is repeated several times, with one subtle difference: At first, we see the Book Boy inching closer and closer to the Questioner. But then he begins inching backward. Then forward once again. He displays no nervousness. It becomes clear that his pattern is to create no pattern. A Taoist would recognize this as “The Way of No Way.”

  QUESTIONER<
br />
  (harshly)

  Patience is not one of your privileges here, Book Boy. You know where you are: if you will not talk to me, you will talk to others.

  The Book Boy does not respond.

  FADE OUT

  BACK TO SAME EXACT SCENE

  QUESTIONER

  (sweetly)

  Won’t you at least tell me your name?

  The Book Boy inches his chair closer to her.

  BOOK BOY

  YT555-4JD303

  QUESTIONER

  (throaty, sexy … promising)

  Not your ID, your real name. That way, we can talk … privately. My name is Syreen.

  BOOK BOY

  (inching closer)

  I’m Tracer.

  QUESTIONER

  (arching her back)

  See? Isn’t this nicer?

  BOOK BOY

  (as if soothed, but actually soothing Questioner)

  It … feels better, anyway.

  QUESTIONER

  Is there anything we could do that would make things better for you here, Tracer? They did give you permission to write on the walls of your compartment, didn’t they? If they didn’t, I can fix that.

  BOOK BOY

  I can’t write if I don’t have paint.

  QUESTIONER

  Now that’s only fair. How about a trade? If you’ll tell me where I can find some of your paint, I’ll bring it to you.

  BOOK BOY

  I don’t know where the paint is.

  QUESTIONER

  But you … all of you, I mean … you must have paint to work, yes?

  BOOK BOY

  Yes. But they give us the paint each time we go out.

  QUESTIONER

  (leaning forward)

  Who gives you the paint, Tracer?

  BOOK BOY

  (breathing shallowly through his nose)

  (literally radiating calmness)

  Our teachers.

  QUESTIONER

  Teachers? You mean, from your temple?

  BOOK BOY

  (moving slightly closer)

  Yes.

  QUESTIONER

  (smiling at Tracer)

  I love it when a man tells me the truth. It feels as if he’s … stroking me. We know about the Temple, Tracer. So I know you are being truthful with me. That gets me very excited, the truth. Can you tell me what they teach there?

  BOOK BOY

  (microscopically closer; lowering his voice slightly)

  They teach us that truth is sacred. It was even a religion once, before the Terror. It was called “Journalism.”

  QUESTIONER

  (surprised)

  They teach myths?

  BOOK BOY

  (shrugs)

  If truth is a myth, what is a lie?

  QUESTIONER

  (switching gears)

  All right, Tracer. Tell me the truth, then … does the Temple have a link to Outside?

  BOOK BOY

  You already know the answer.

  QUESTIONER

  How would we know such a thing?

  BOOK BOY

  Because the Rulers have always tried to match our blue paint. Then they could write what they want, and people would trust it. If it’s written in blue, it must be true … everyone knows that. But the Rulers can’t copy the paint, no matter what they do. They scrape it off the walls; they even confiscate our spray cans when one of us is captured. But they can’t copy our Blue. Every time they try, the same tag goes up:

  CUT TO:

  EXT: Wall

  IF YOU CAN’T MAKE IT, MAKE IT UP

  COME BACK ON:

  BOOK BOY

  That’s how you know our Temple has a link to Outside. The Rulers own everything Underground, don’t they? So if they can’t make something here, it must come from Outside.

  QUESTIONER

  (licking her lips)

  I love it when a man teaches me things. Maybe tomorrow, you’ll teach me something else, Tracer.

  FADE OUT

  FADE IN ON:

  INT: Tracer’s “compartment.” Clearly a confinement area, but spacious and clean. Tracer is in a yoga position on the floor, breathing correctly, eyes closed.

  TRACER

  (interior monologue, as if reciting a lesson he has learned)

  When a Book Boy is captured, the wave becomes the way. Radiate. Flow your fear to the men; flow your gentleness to the women. This will make the men brave, and the women unafraid. They will become calm. Move through the calm. You must be close to finish your work.

  Tracer rotates his neck. The crack of adhesions breaking is audible. He stands up, walks to his pallet, lies back, and closes his eyes.

  TRACER

  (interior monologue)

  The Questioner makes promises she can’t keep. The whisper-stream says the Rulers don’t have sex—they clone. But we don’t write that on the walls, because we never write rumors. Our way is our path. When truth turns to lies, everything dies.

  FADE OUT

  COME IN ON …

  INT: Interrogation chamber

  Tracer’s chair is closer to the Questioner than ever before.

  QUESTIONER

  (almost purring)

  Come on, Tracer. You promised. (Said petulantly, with a pout. The Questioner has removed her hooded cape, revealing a truly beautiful, extravagantly endowed young woman with long red hair.)

  TRACER

  (almost as if mesmerized)

  All Book Boys have the same handwriting. The exact same. The Rulers can’t tell which of us wrote any particular message.

  QUESTIONER

  (opening a snap to deepen the V of her top)

  Oh, that’s good, Tracer.

  Tracer leans forward, tentatively reaches out to touch her hair.

  QUESTIONER

  (teasingly)

  I thought you were a Book Boy, not a bad boy.

  Tracer pulls back his hand, looks somewhat shamefaced.

  QUESTIONER

  (taking his hand and putting it back where it was)

  This isn’t the only Interrogation Room, you know. There’re lots of different kinds. One of them’s in the back. It’s dark in there. With a nice soft couch. But we’re only allowed to bring anyone back there if we can be sure it would … help. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Tracer?

  TRACER

  (softly)

  Sometimes it’s easier to talk after.…

  QUESTIONER

  (wicked smile)

  You go back to your place and think about that, Tracer. Tomorrow, if you’re ready to really talk to me, maybe we can go to that other room.

  FADE OUT

  COME UP ON:

  INT: Tracer’s “compartment.” He is flat on his back on the floor, feet and hands suspended in the air. His eyes are closed and his breathing is almost undetectable.

  TRACER

  (interior monologue)

  I send out gentle waves to her. In and out like the tide. Or sex. She thinks being inside her will weaken me, not knowing I am already there. Send the tide, become the tide.

  Our tides have an undertow. What they pull beneath will never surface again.

  Tracer visibly relaxes, breathing shallowly.

  TRACER

  (interior monologue; thoughtful, not reciting doctrine)

  The Rulers know the truth about some things. They know some of the Book Boys are girls. But in the whisper-stream, we will always be the Book Boys. That was one of the first lessons: whatever the name, the truth stays the same.

  Like the Guardians. They don’t come from the Temple, but they protect us. They’re a war crew, mixed. All different skin/shades. We write their truth on the walls:

  CUT TO IMAGE OF:

  YOU CAN’T SEE US

  SO YOU’LL NEVER SEE US COMING

  BACK TO:

  TRACER

  (interior monologue)

  Just being a Guardian is enough to get you sent Outside; same as being a Book Boy. We never
meet; we never talk. But it is the same for us both: Once you truly learn a lesson, once it gets in deep enough, you become the lesson. The Rulers think all our work is writing on the walls. They think, if they capture one of us, that one’s work is done.

  CUT TO:

  Tracer, fleeing into a tunnel. He has a spray can in one hand, emptying it as he runs, a Police Squad on his heels. Most of the pursuers are picked off by arrows, laser blasts, and throwing stars. But Tracer runs right into another Squad, coming from the opposite direction. One Police Squad member zaps him with a purple-tinged beam, and he drops, paralyzed.

  TRACER

  (interior monologue)

  It is time for my other work now. Focus! Even knowing how to convert the enemy’s strength into your own power, is not enough for this. It is all timing. Had I moved too quickly, the cello-curtain would have come down between us. Floor to ceiling, like the see-throughs they have in the Sex Tunnels.

  The Rulers always ask different questions when they have one of us, but the only thing they really care about is finding our Temple.

  They have serum. Electrodes. Girls who offer you sex. Or boys, if that’s what you want. Promises. Threats. None of that ever works … because it can’t. The Temple isn’t a place, it’s a truth. And all truth travels. Whenever one of us needs to return, we just step into the Uncharted Zone. Then we walk our path until the truth finds us. If we sense anyone following us, we just stop. If the Tracker stops, waiting for us to move, the truth will find him, too.

  But when you tell the Rulers you don’t know where the Temple is, they’re sure you’re lying. As we have been taught: the best way to lie to the Rulers is to tell them the truth.

  The Rulers have a lot of information, but no knowledge … and no way to get any. Even if they could read our minds, the path to the Temple isn’t in there.