by V. Cobe
CHAPTER 9
Seven Stripes
When I entered Umbraland, Qepiem was already waiting for me. He looked nervous.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just too many people. Let’s go quickly.”
The color of the tunnels went from orange to yellow to green to indigo until finally all shades joined, as if the walls were made of a rainbow.
The common areas.
The atrium from where the Umbrifications began had the seven colors everywhere. On some walls, they were mixed as if they had been shot at random, on others they were very well painted and separated, sometimes in perfect spirals.
Seven spotlights shined colored light from the ground, under seven big bright stripes that fell from the ceiling in front of seven flights of stairs ascending into the wall. In front of each of those stripes were seven lines of umbriferos awaiting to get inside. All around, a crowd of black cloaks was talking.
“You’re already late. You should’ve been the first to enter.”
Three people, all of them reviewing notes, were standing in line in front of the indigo band, which had the symbol of Intellectus engraved in glimmering black.
“It will be my turn in no time. The intellectuales don’t usually take long.”
The Umbrification of an intellectualis could take twenty-four hours at most; it depended on the ability of the initiate to solve the puzzles presented. After this time, the initiate would be removed from the rooms and be ineligible to become a member. In other niches, such as Mysticismi and Redemptio, Umbrifications could take even longer. It was said that there was no time limit; in the worst case, the initiate would stay there forever.
“Hide your face, Cev,” ordered Qepiem.
“Why are you so nervous?”
“Because if Defectio are looking for you, they’ll surely come here today.”
I lowered the hood and kept my head down while placing myself at the end of the indigo line.
“I’m going to take a walk. Do not leave,” he asked.
The line of mystici to my left comprised fifteen people who looked worried and impatient. The line of redemptores had only two, with their black hoods pulled so far down that it was impossible to distinguish any trace of their faces.
The indigo band whipped, indicating that the last person who had entered just become an intellectualis. All around us, people clapped and roared. The young girl in front of the line stepped forward and went up the stairs.
A jolt indicated that a new member had just completed the initiation successfully. Two shakes indicated that the initiate failed, either for running out of time or committing an irreversible flaw. Three jolts indicated death. They were not that rare in Redemptio and Mysticismi.
The future festivi had the shortest line, because the orange stripe was always moving; they were always arriving and always entering, always laughing and speaking loudly with one another. The festivi and the pacifici.
“For the mystici, only one has entered so far.” Qepiem returned to my side. “And still hasn’t come out.”
I cast a nervous glance at the line waiting in front of the blue spotlight. I would never get into that niche.
When I got to the beginning of the line, there were already half a dozen people behind me and many more around me; family members and friends of the new umbriferos or just groups of snoopers who liked to see who was coming to their niche and who tried but failed.
The band vibrated and quaked once, and a group of people roared with joy.
Finally, it was my turn.
“I’ll be waiting at the back until it ends,” Qepiem said. “Good luck.”
I nodded and moved forward. I went up the lapis lazuli stairs, pulled away the indigo stripe and crossed to the other side into the wall as people applauded. I was still able to see through the corner of my eye the orange band of the festivi shaking another time.
The stairs continued up through the interior of the wall for a few hundred steps until they were almost out of sight. However, and even though the path of the tunnel was dark, I could see a door of indigo light at the end, at the top of the immense staircase. It took several minutes and many steps until I reached it.
Ahavja, the second-decider, was leaning against the indigo doorframe and waiting for me.
“Cev.” She made the symbol of Umbra. “I have been waiting for you. How are you feeling?”
“Let’s get this over with.”
The bright lobby had the eye engraved on the floor: