The Fourth Sage (The Circularity Saga)

by Stefan Bolz

  The quiet that follows is almost eerie. When Aries looks at Kiire and the other two boys and from there into the faces of the other kids, there is a small moment when she feels it, feels it like electricity in the room. It’s palpable. It is the sense that all of them are trapped with no way out, with nowhere to go. And below that hopelessness, Aries can sense the small wish for something else. For a life outside of this, for something better. But that small instant of a wish—minuscule in size and overpowered by the sheer bleakness of their lives—disappears quickly, like the flicker of a firefly at night. Moments later, it is gone. What’s left is their shared knowledge that nothing can change their fate, nothing can reach down and lift them up and place them into a world of safety and of comfort.

  Their eyes are lowered as they return to their tables, to their benches. Some sit, others collect their empty dishes and move them toward a small conveyor belt on one of the walls. Aries casts one more look toward Seth, as if to say, “Next time be more careful.” The screens turn back to normal, back to the blonde woman in the bathing suit who talks about the beach club. As she turns to leave, Aries can’t help but feel a sting of guilt over what she said to Seth. “No,” she decides, “he deserved it.” But as she leaves the dining room she isn’t even sure about that.

  011 010 000 1010 0101 0001 010111 0101 0 0 10 10 10010100010 01010 010 101001001 010 010 010110 01 0000101 01000001 100110 10010011010 1001 100001 1 010 10000 1111010 010100 000111 001 01011 0101 0101 Egan, Aries, D. ID#: 4746-POC-201-0017485 0001000 0101 01001 incident involving Boras, Seth, S. ID#: 4746-POC-201-0015774 000111 1001 0111 00 11 1 0001101 01 1 010100001 1010111 tag 4.1 100001 1101001001 further action pending evaluation 1 1 11 0001 10001 1000 11000110 1011010 100011 00 1110100 001001 010101 010111 011000 010 0001101 01011101010 0101001

  Chapter 2 — Ty

  “For they hold our fates forever, in their hands both young and strong.”

  [Part of a forbidden nursery rhyme]

  Aries takes two steps at once, climbing up the steep narrow stairs while holding onto the railing. If her hands are free she can usually make it up in about five seconds. Fourteen steps. Back down is even quicker. Sliding on her hands and forearms and hooking her heels onto the railing she can be down in under three seconds.

  She reaches the top and lands on a small platform, which leads into a narrow, slightly curved hallway. To her left is a metal door. Aries looks briefly up at the small camera in one of the corners of the doorframe. She punches in a code. After a moment, the clicking sound indicates that the door has been unlocked. A small LED next to a numeric pad goes from red to blue. She steps through the opening. The thick door closes behind her, hermetically sealing itself. In case of a leak of any of the chemicals used to heat and cool the massive high-rise, this section—Tier Zero—will be cut off and sealed from the rest of the building.

  Aries is hit by a wave of heat coming off the rectangular container-sized transformers on either side of the narrow hallway. The heat exchange units convert chemical processes into either heat or cooling, depending on what is needed at the moment. She goes left, walks through the narrow passageway, which eventually spills her out into a storage room. She goes to her locker and opens it while glancing at yet another camera above.

  “You’re late.” The voice behind her is deep and raspy, firm but not unkind. Stating a fact rather than making a judgment.

  Aries grabs her tool belt from the hook on the door. “I am,” she answers. “Sorry 'bout that.”

  She turns toward the man. He must be well into his seventies. His gray hair is held in a short ponytail, and a pencil is tucked into the space above his right ear. The wrinkles around his eyes are darkened from grease and metal dust. Aries can never really connect his voice to his slender build; whenever she hears him talking, she envisions a larger, taller man. Tybault Hennrichsen is half a foot shorter than herself.

  “There was trouble in the cafeteria…” Aries continues.

  “What kind?”

  She looks at him while cinching on her belt and tucking her gloves into a side pocket.

  “You’ll find your place eventually. I did.” Ty smiles at her. Aries doesn’t smile back. “You up for a climb? It’s not too high up.”

  “Sure,” Aries answers, swallowing the slight sting of fear in her throat.

  “We’ve got a burned-out motor in one of the cooling ducts in B-11X4. We need someone tall and thin.”

  “I’m your girl.” She closes her locker, snaps the flashlight onto her hard hat, tests it on her hand, and moves one of the belt pockets to the back. When she reaches Ty, he turns and they both walk through the door into a much more expansive area. They pass a few large standup drills, a welding station and other workbenches, until they reach the middle of the room. Clusters of greased-over computer screens are mounted to the ceiling directly above an oversized table. Multiple layers of large blueprint drawings represent the guts of the electrical system down to every excruciating detail—every switch, junction box, and LED bulb.

  About two dozen people, all in coveralls, are in various stages of preparing for the day. Wires are being rolled up and parts are being mounted together; the smell of the soldering iron hangs in the air. Several of the workers nod at Aries as she approaches. In here they are equals. In here they are all spokes in the large wheel that turns slowly but steadily around the axis known as Tybault Hennrichsen.

  “The motor is in this section over here, reachable through the shaft right above the D-compressor line.” Ty traces the cooling duct with his grease-stained finger and stops at the top of a narrow shaft where a red dot on the clear plastic sheet indicates the broken motor. “My guess is that one of the brushes is gone, or maybe both. You can’t bring it down, it’s too big. You’ll have to repair it on site.”

  “You got it, boss.” Aries looks at the blueprint while taking out her notepad. She writes, "220V-30A / 6-point hexagon."

  “You’ll need a six-point hexagon to open the casing.” Ty says. She nods. “But you knew that already. Has anyone seen C.J. this morning?” Ty asks the room.

  A couple of people shake their heads; others murmur that they haven’t seen her.

  “I’m going on the job with you," Ty says. "We don’t have anyone else senior enough to be your lead.”

  Aries smiles. “Great!"

  "Get the parts, will ya?" Ty says, while grabbing his tool belt and hard hat.

  When she enters the storage room, an image appears before her eyes for a split second, completely blocking her current visual field. White clouds rush by as she plummets toward the land far below. She throws her arms out to catch herself. Then it’s gone, leaving her dizzy and filled with a hot rush of adrenaline. She looks around but nobody seems to have noticed.

  She finds the parts in two separate metal bins and the six-point hexagon in the specialty tools cart. Ty is already halfway up the stairs. Aries follows him up and they reach the narrow path above the storage room. From there, the walkway makes a forty-five degree turn, crossing over the command center. Aries's stomach begins to knot as they approach the end and negotiate a narrow wall. As they turn the corner, leaving the wall behind them, they approach the railing of yet another walkway. Aries concentrates on the steel grid plates below her feet but she knows that, eventually, she has to look up and face what’s there.

  “You okay?” Ty's eyes reassure her that she is not going to fall and disappear into the abyss.

  “Yes, sure.”

  Reluctant, her glance shifts from Ty to what lies behind him. You've seen this many times before. There's no need to freak out over it. From where they stand, a circular walkway leads in both directions meeting all the way across, fifty meters away. In between, there is nothing. Just a large, round gap. She reaches the railing and grabs it, not without noticing the sweat on her palms. From here, she gradually looks past her hands. Surrounding the gap in the center, the maze of ladders and platforms extends downward as far as she can see. About fifty floors below, it is swallowe
d by darkness. She steps back from the railing.

  "Shall we?" Ty asks.

  She nods, thankful that he lets her have her moment of panic without calling her on it.

  "I wonder why it's built like that?” she asks, as they head for another staircase.

  “I don’t have a better answer since the last time you asked,” Ty replies.

  “It’s just that it seems to serve no purpose to have it all open like that.”

  “I’m not a structural engineer.”

  “Yes, but you know things."

  "That I do. I also know that I've never met anyone who asked so many questions."

  "That's a good thing, right?" Aries realizes that she's only half-kidding.

  "It depends on who you ask."

  She expects him to smile but he doesn't, and for a moment there is silence between them.

  “Did C.J. seem strange to you the last couple of days?” she asks.

  “Strange in what way?” They climb up yet another ladder.

  “Just strange. Not herself.”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Ty answers. “But you know her much better than I do.”

  “I don’t really. How can I know her if we’re not allowed to speak without being watched?” Aries isn’t quite sure where this outburst comes from.

  “I brought your harness.” Ty tells her. “You should put it on.”

  “Ty, do you realize that I can’t even talk to you about anything except what’s related to work?”

  “You should always put it on, even though you think you might not need it.”

  “There are so many things that don't make a lot of sense.”

  “It will prevent you from falling and hurting yourself.”

  “Ty!”

  Ty stops and turns to her. They are halfway up the stairs. He kneels before her, placing the harness in front of her on the ground. Then he looks up at her.

  “Put on the harness, Aries. It will keep you safe.”

  He is as close to a father as anyone has come in four years. She can see that his eyes are pleading with her—pleading with her to be quiet, to stay quiet.

  “Thank you,” is all she says, as she steps into the harness and pulls it up.

  They continue to climb a few more stairways until they reach the space behind a smaller transformer. Aries can see the massive cooling line going straight up beside a metal ladder built into the wall. Twenty feet above them the line disappears into a smaller shaft leading away from them.

  Ty hands Aries a small walkie-talkie that she clips onto her harness. She begins to climb the ladder. Halfway up she looks down, but realizing this is a mistake she continues to concentrate on each rung of the ladder until she reaches the top. She switches her headlamp on and peers into the horizontal shaft. It disappears beyond the reach of the light beam.

  "It's about thirty-five feet into the shaft." She hears Ty's voice in the walkie-talkie. She gives him a thumbs-up and places her foot on the ledge of the square shaft. When she locks the carabiner into the bar above the opening, her legs begin to shake. She waits a few seconds, hoping it will stop. For a moment she feels as if she is going to get sick, but then she grabs onto the bar, lets go of the ladder and slides into the shaft.

  She welcomes the tight space and the cool surface of the metal duct against her back. She unlocks the carabiner and crawls forward along the smaller cooling line. The beam of light dances in front of her as she makes her way into the darkness.

  "Almost there," she says into the walkie-talkie.

  "Still here," she hears Ty say next to her ear.

  She smiles, turns her body, and moves the last few feet on her side. She opens her tool belt, finds the wrench and begins opening the bolts. In order to get to the rest of the chassis she has to lie on her back. While loosening the remaining bolts, she notices another shaft, smaller and perpendicular to this one.

  That's odd, she thinks. The shafts inside the building that have nothing in them are usually air shafts. This seems an unusual location for an air duct.

  "How's it going in there?" She hears Ty's voice. She contemplates telling him what she's found. Then she decides to check it out first and tell him after. Ty knows nothing about her one hour of freedom she takes out of her day when she activates the surveillance loop in her room and roams the heating ducts at night. She knows he wouldn't approve. Not because he would disapprove; he would simply be afraid for her.

  "Aries, you there?"

  "Yes, sorry, the space is very tight and it'll take some time to loosen the bolts."

  "Okay."

  She takes the chassis off of the electric motor and replaces the used brushes with new ones.

  "It's both brushes. Should be done soon," she says into the walkie-talkie. She can't remember ever having lied to Ty.

  She closes the chassis and climbs into the shaft. The empty duct leads straight up, with nothing to hold on to. Using her knees and feet, together with her hands, she pushes herself up, several inches at a time. She's done this many times before but she didn't realize at the outset how far she would have to climb. Most of the vertical ducts she had climbed during her nightly excursions were fifteen feet high at the most. This one is almost three times as high.

  Halfway up the shaft, she's completely out of breath. Sweat is building on her brow and she begins to question her reasoning for climbing into the shaft. But she knows that this is probably her only chance to do this. She'll most likely not come back to this location for a while and coming up with a reasonable excuse to return would be difficult.

  She takes a couple of breaths, tries to be unconcerned about her legs beginning to shake, and pushes herself up again, a couple of inches at a time. After an eternity, she reaches the end—a metal vent cover. She tries to push it open but it doesn't move.

  "I don't believe it," she whispers under her breath. She tries again but there is no way for her to open it. It must be bolted shut from the other side. I should have known better. She very slowly begins to slide downward. Forty-five feet below her she sees the tiny opening to the vertical shaft and part of the motor. She had taken off her gloves to get better traction. Now, the sweat in her palms acts as a lubricant. She pushes away the thought of what would happen if she fell from this height and takes out her handkerchief. Using her teeth, she rips off a narrow strip and ties it to one of the bars in the vent cover. One knot has to do. The burning in her legs is already almost unbearable. Then she wipes her hands as much as possible on her coveralls and slowly makes her way down. When she finally reaches the bottom, she is sweating profusely and simply lies there, completely exhausted.

  "Did you fall asleep in there?" She hears Ty's voice in the walkie-talkie.

  "I'm done. On my way back," she replies, hoping this was all worth it.

  She reaches the ladder and climbs down, the burning sensation in her legs only slowly subsiding.

  "You look like you've been through the wringer. Did anything happen in there?" Ty looks at her with a mixture of worry and wonder. "Are you okay?"

  "It was just very hard to loosen the bolts," Aries answers, looking away from his probing glance.

  "Aries, what's going on?"

  "Nothing." She lifts her head, looks straight at him. "It was just very hard to loosen the bolts."

  Something in his expression tells her that he doesn't quite believe her. He opens a small panel next to the ladder and flips the circuit breaker back on. The LED light changes from red to green.

  "Shall we go back?"

  "Yeah." Aries realizes that her palms are still sweaty but she resists the urge to wipe them on her coveralls.

  "Good job up there."

  "Thanks."

  Ty walks ahead of her as they make their way down the ladders and back toward the command center four stories below.

  "Maybe I'll try to get in touch with C.J.'s parents tonight," Aries says. "I didn't see a message from her on my pad this morning and she usually writes me first thing."

  "Sure, sounds l
ike a good idea," Ty answers after a few seconds. Just as they reach the floor of the command center and Aries is about to walk to her locker to get a drink, Ty places his hand on her shoulder.

  "Aries."

  She turns toward him. "Yes."

  "You're a good kid. I... I want you to know that. I just wanted you to know." She looks at him, his grease-darkened face, his kind eyes.

  "Thank you."

  Ty nods.

  "I'll be right back," she says, and turns to walk away. Her eyes sting suddenly. She wonders why this happens each time someone says something nice to her. Yes, it reminds her of how her mother used to speak to her while she gently braided her hair each night. Yes, it doesn't happen that often anymore that someone says something nice to her. C.J. is one. Ty another. Maybe there are one or two more kids she can relate to, but for the most part there is this undercurrent of loneliness in her that she can't seem to shake.

  While standing at her locker and drinking from a water bottle, tears stream down in earnest. She immediately tries to hide them from the camera above her head; she pours water into the palm of her hand and splashes it on her face. Let them figure it out. To whoever stands watch behind the cameras, she's just another kid sweating from working in small spaces who needed to cool off. No tears.

  But while she does that, while all those thoughts go through her head, she realizes what it is she needs. The thought rises within her and fills her with hope and the will to continue. She lets it stand there. Then she nods and a slight smile crosses her face. I need friends. She closes her locker and goes back to the command center to get instructions for her next job.

  Chapter 3 — Born-of-Night

  “Night bears the dawn which rises on its death.”