The Fourth Sage (The Circularity Saga)

by Stefan Bolz

  //**q.119_04_5xtl.ut /// Upload complete___//

  * * *

  Somewhere between the seventieth and the seventy-first floor, a hawk sits on a small ledge deep in the shadows. Her haunting and relentless cries echo through the vast space. Several workers in the water treatment unit lift their heads. They have never heard this sound before and one of them suggests that it must be coming from the steam regenerator valves. Another makes the sign of a cross in front of him—an ancient symbol of a long-forgotten pilgrim's belief.

  Born-of-Night jumps off the ledge and flies up forty floors, and from there another thirty more. Her cries reach far into the space, falling on ears that cannot place their origin. Nobody understands their meaning. The one who does is not here, is nowhere to be found. Not out here and not in the hawk's mind. In its place is emptiness. Emptiness of thought and emotion. I came for you, Aries Free-Born. To release you from your chains. So you can free your people.

  As her wings take her up, ever higher inside the building's core, she cannot fathom why she does not get an answer. For since she can remember, she could feel her presence, could read her thoughts, could hear her call. Instead there is now only silence. As if the one who stands at both the end and the beginning of an age, the one who was born to restore balance to her world and her people, is no longer there, has vanished into oblivion. And Born-of-Night gives voice to her pain, to her loss, and to her mourning. The one she came for is gone; she can no longer find her in her heart.

  Two

  //voice recorder file log**q.411_08.1_5xtl.ut kiire_understaad//

  The city arose from a small mining town, close to a thousand years ago, to one with a population of ten million souls. When the Corporations took over about two hundred years past, air and ground pollution began to increase. Eventually, people could no longer safely live in their homes or even plant vegetables in their gardens. The Corporation built five super high-rises, each holding close to sixty-five thousand souls. They were built like cities, with shopping malls, hospitals, and factories. The Corporation sold spots inside to the highest bidders. Direct sunlight became a commodity. People with the most money were able to live in Tier Six, the outermost tier. Soon the different tiers were filled with people based on their usefulness to the Corporation and according to how much they had paid.

  Many people—mostly those who couldn't afford to buy a spot in one of the buildings—tried to flee the city. Many died trying to slip through the minefields and electrified fences surrounding its borders. The poorer population took the offer of working on the buildings for a very low wage in return for a spot inside. But when the buildings were completed and people began to move in, the construction workers found themselves in limbo. Under the pretense that modifications had to be made, several years went by until the workers realized that they had been lied to.

  The rebellion began eighty years ago. People organized themselves. The buildings were fortresses, impenetrable from the outside, so they began to transmit broadcasts to the people inside, urging them to stand up and try to stop the Corporation. The few who rose up inside the buildings were imprisoned. On the outside, the poor—desperate and hungry—turned against each other. Crime increased exponentially. And something else happened. Suicide rates went up. What at first were isolated incidents soon became an epidemic. What nobody knows (even to this day) and what I just now discovered was that one of the Corporation's bio labs had developed a parasite that lived inside a single string of bacteria. The parasite was distributed into the city through the water. It induced severe depression in most inhabitants. But that was only the side effect. The purpose of the parasite was to penetrate the host’s stomach walls and spread to the inner organs. The water that was used to flush it out brought about the very opposite. In the end, people died. They died at home, on the streets or in one of the few remaining hospitals. The city became a ghost town. The broken pavement and overgrowing vegetation now bear silent witness to what its inhabitants had to endure.

  What we were told, however, was something completely different. We were told that there was a radiation leak in one of the nuclear reactors thirty miles outside the city. It made the whole valley completely uninhabitable. Even sunlight became dangerous. Or so it was claimed. People inside the high-rises were so glad that they had survived, had a spot of safety, they did not question anything. What fear can do... But I cannot be silent anymore. The truth has to come out. I'm just not sure h—

  //voice recorder file log**q.411_08.1_5xtl//upload interrupted//

  Chapter 8 — Decisions

  "You say that time is a wheel, turning in its inevitable path,

  that nothing has the power to change its predetermined course.

  But let there be but one small pebble willing to be impelled into its track;

  its direction would be altered forever."

  [The Book of Croix — Vol.4]

  Aries wakes up the next morning, her shirt clinging to her, completely soaked through. She notices that her pillow is wet as well but can't remember anything from last night except that someone seemed to have repeated her name over and over. A dream. At the same time she thought that the name didn't belong to her but to somebody else entirely.

  She steps into the UVL shower, drops her clothes and continues to stand there long after the ultraviolet laser has done its thing. A shiver brings her back and she gets dressed. The dining hall holds no surprises. She watches the comings and goings for a while, thinking that being here isn't so bad after all. She and the rest of the kids are provided for. They have certain freedoms and the restrictions on their lives are, by and large, not only helpful but are in fact necessary to keep everything in order. She cannot fathom that she had ever held the thought of needing to escape this. This is her home. Now and forever. When she arrives at her locker in Electrical, she sees Ty coming toward her. She takes out her hard hat, tool belt, the small notepad, and her harness.

  "You're here," she hears him behind her.

  She turns around and looks at him.

  "I am."

  It is as if all the color bleeds from his face at once. She registers that he has trouble keeping his poise.

  "It's good to see you," he says, but his eyes belie his words.

  Aries forces a smile. "What do you have?"

  "I... um... we have... a problem with... a corroded cable on the 160th floor…" His voice trails off.

  "Okay. Great. Can I repair it onsite or does it need to be exchanged?"

  "I... I'm not sure. You'll have to see once you're there. You should bring one, in case."

  "Okay. No problem. Anything else?"

  "That's it. For now."

  "Good."

  "You need to take the lift down to 162nd and walk a few floors from there."

  "No problem."

  She starts walking toward the command center, leaving Ty standing there. Then she turns.

  "You coming?"

  Ty's expression is a mixture of concern and disbelief.

  "You okay?" he says. "I heard you fell."

  "Yup." Aries doesn't feel like talking this morning. It's also none of Ty's business what did or didn't happen to her. Something must have clicked, for when they reach the command center, Ty's all business.

  "The cable follows the wall here." He points to a line on the blueprint in front of him. "It's connected to a valve in one of the chemical heating lines. My guess is, there's a leak somewhere that corroded either the wires or the contacts. Or both. The walkie-talkie doesn't reach that far so you have to use the hard line if you need to speak to me. I'll call you to check in. Any questions?"

  "Nope."

  "I'm sending Bailey down there with you. This is a two-person job and I can't leave right now."

  Somewhere inside, buried so deep she can't access it, there is an objection.

  "Sure, no problem," she answers.

  "Good. Call me once you know what's what."

  "Okay."

  It seems as if Ty wants to say something e
lse, but he doesn't. Bailey approaches, a large roll of cable over his shoulder. He grins when he sees her.

  "Egan, you're gonna be okay using the lift?"

  "Why shouldn't I be?"

  "No reason."

  "Let's go," she says, as she heads toward the first set of stairs, with Bailey following.

  Aries approaches the lift, opens the gate, and steps inside. Bailey closes the gate behind him. He punches in the floor number on the keypad and the lift begins its descent. Aries looks down into the abyss. About fifty floors are visible. The rest is swallowed by darkness. Part of her wonders how she could ever have been afraid of heights.

  "So, you fell, huh?" Bailey asks.

  "Yes," she says, with a smile.

  "That they let you get back to work so soon after is pretty unusual. I thought you'd be gone for a week."

  "I didn't want to lose any overtime hours."

  "I see. Takin' one for the team and gettin' right back to work. I'm sure management will show its appreciation." He spits out some chewing tobacco.

  While she looks down into the blackness below, and only for a second, it is as if she's not looking down but up. The large opening in the building's core seems brighter, more crisp. There is an elevator moving down toward her. Then the image disappears, leaving her dizzy, and wondering what it was. She becomes aware of a slight knot in her stomach and decides to look straight ahead instead of down. Much better.

  "Yeah, I can never get used to the height, either. Who knows how old those brakes are? They have to stop workin’ eventually, right? In which case we'd just plummet straight down 'til we hit the landing at 162nd. Impact would probably shear off the cabin from the chassis and it would sail down all the way 'til we crashed into the ground floor." This is obviously amusing to Bailey for Aries can see his grin without turning her head.

  She registers that her heart rate is way up. She can feel it beat inside her chest. While she asks herself why that is, she turns to look at Bailey. He's still talking but his mouth seems to move slower, somehow. His voice is deeper as if time has slowed down significantly. Then she hears a cry. It's distant yet strangely familiar. With the cry comes the image of a lift moving down toward her. It comes closer and Aries suddenly can see herself in it.

  The piercing cry next to her ear brings her back. At that moment, Born-of-Night lands on the outside of the lift next to her head. The impact shakes the steel cabin. Bailey starts screaming as if answering Born-of-Night's bone-chilling cries.

  Aries's vision becomes blurry. She doesn't know what's going on until she realizes that her tears are responsible for it. Somehow this makes her happy.

  Come with me, Aries Free-Born. The hawk's thought stands in Aries’s mind, strong and unwavering.

  Bailey has moved into the corner of the lift as far away from the hawk as possible, shielding his face with his arms. He's still screaming when Born-of-Night lets go of the metal grate and drops down. Aries follows her flight path as she sails across the large gap to the other side, where she lands on a ledge. From there she lets out one more cry and disappears from Aries's sight.

  "What the hell was that?" Bailey’s expression is one of pure terror.

  "I don't have the slightest idea." In a split second she becomes aware of the implications of Born-of-Night's appearance. It is as if the hawk has pried open her consciousness, enough for her to begin to break through the drug-induced walls. Part of her registers that there is a large amount of pain waiting on the other side. But there is another part and one that, right now at least, has the upper hand. Don't go there, she thinks. Close the door. For now. And concentrate on getting off this lift in one piece.

  "Bailey, you okay?"

  "Once I'm off this freakin' lift."

  Aries has never seen him so pale. When the lift stops, he steps out, and immediately moves away from the railing toward the other side of the walkway. Aries leaves the cabin and heads toward the stairs that will take her to the 160th floor.

  * * *

  "We need a new junction box. This one is pretty much gone," Aries says. She kneels on the floor, looking at the box. Bailey stands a few feet away against a wall.

  "I'm not going back into that lift anytime soon," he says.

  "You have to go up eventually."

  "Yeah, but that's a few hours from now, at least. More time for whatever it was that tried to get into the lift cage to get lost."

  "It was just a bird."

  "It tried to kill us!"

  "What?" Aries realizes that Bailey's point of view is radically different from her own. "I'll go," she says.

  "Good," he replies. "Very good."

  Bailey is visibly relieved.

  "You can take out the old cable in the meantime."

  "Yeah, no problem," he says.

  He seems like a child to her as he stands, back against the wall, arms crossed in front of him. "I'll be back soon," she says.

  Bailey nods and she loses sight of him as she climbs the first staircase. When she arrives at the landing, the flashing image of the interrogation room from the other night appears in front of her. The image is so strong that she staggers, tries to stay upright, and has to hold on to the railing.

  "Oh no," she whispers under her breath. Part of her knows that this was coming eventually, but she didn't expect it to be with such force. The next image is that of her parents in the elevator as it plummets into nothingness. She can feel the pain physically as it approaches, rolling toward her, and enclosing her completely.

  Through her tears she looks around. There is a space between two transformers. She staggers toward it and slips into the narrow hallway where she slides to the floor. Whatever the serum had suppressed now finds its way back to the surface and into her conscious mind. The pain comes in waves, taking her as she sobs on the steel grate floor. She doesn't know how long she lies there. Minutes. Hours. Whenever she wants to give in and let herself be pulled into the blackness of the bottomless pit that is filled with terrifying memories, she hears her. Her call is quiet but persistent, cutting through the pain and lifting her up, carrying her, consoling her.

  Come with me, she seems to say.

  And then the realization hits her: she can't go back. She can't go back up to face Ty and the others and to pretend nothing has happened. She can't pick up her life as she knows it, had known it. And what life? She has to turn around and go toward... Where? Where would she go? There is nowhere to go in here.

  Trust me, Born-of-Night seems to say in her thoughts. Trust who? A four-month-old hawk? But the longer she lies there in the semidarkness, the clearer she sees what it is she needs to do. She can't go back. She has to do what nobody would expect her to do, not even the software of the A.I. mainframe and whoever stands behind it. She has to go against everything she has learned since she can remember: She has to follow her instinct. Go toward the fear and the unknown, not away from it.

  "Go," she hears herself whisper. "Go, before you change your mind."

  She gets up, wavers, and briefly thinks she’s going to get sick. But it passes and she moves toward the railing. As she looks into the abyss below, all the way down and to the edge where the light meets the shadows, she forms a thought that lets her fear dissipate, that calms her heart rate and her breath.

  "I'm coming to you," she says. And from far below she hears a cry echoing through the vast space, steadying her resolve. She turns away from the railing and moves to the right and toward the opposite side of the opening. Last thing she needs is to run into Bailey. While she moves down the staircases she makes a mental list of items in her possession. She realizes she’s left her hard hat a few flights up. That includes the flashlight. What's left is the harness, handkerchief, notepad, and her tool belt with several relatively small tools in them, including a pocketknife. She feels slightly thirsty but that can't be helped right now.

  She thinks about calling Ty on the hard line and giving him some kind of an excuse for not showing up. But she doesn't want to do that anymore.
Too many lies. She thinks about Kiire and Seth and for a moment she slows down. Should she go up and somehow get them? And what about C.J.? She remembers her message clearly. She remembers what it said. "Help me!" The two words stand very clear in her memory. All the attempts to change the message had no effect at all. Shouldn't she try to help her somehow? But part of her knows that this is not the right time, that this is not what she needs to do right now. She wouldn’t be able to help her at this moment, wouldn't even know where to start.

  As she moves downward, ever deeper, passing floor by floor—for the occasional worker she encounters, she's a colleague on her way to a job—her future seems to open up in front of her, stretching out and welcoming her at the same time. She experiences a sense of freedom she has not felt since she can remember. Not knowing what to expect seems terrifying and freeing at once.

  She is so engrossed in her own thoughts that she doesn't see the drone at first. She's not aware of the humming sound it emits; nor does she feel the slight movement in the air from its electromagnetic turbines. She doesn't notice the green laser scanning each floor during its silent descent. When she becomes aware of it, it doesn't register at first. Its black surface reflects almost no light. It hovers in the center of the large opening in the building's core, unseen by most and feared by the ones who do see it.