The Fourth Sage (The Circularity Saga)

by Stefan Bolz

As they approach the first doorway on their right, Aries wonders how they all could have made it down here for two years. Max signs something to Tevis. For some reason, Aries knows what it means.

  "This is Jeremiah's room," Tevis says.

  Aries can't see much at first. Until her eyes adjust to the semidarkness. The room is empty except for a small box in its center. It contains pieces of charcoal. Three of the four walls are filled with mathematical formulas. They are written in the smallest letters possible. To preserve space, Aries surmises.

  "You did all this?" she asks.

  Jeremiah nods. "Yes."

  Aries approaches one of the walls, looks at the formulas that spread into each of the corners and up to the ceiling.

  "I wish I could... understand, Jeremiah. I wish I could understand your language," she says.

  A smile crosses Jeremiah's face. "It's not that h-h-hard once you get it."

  "It's the getting it that's usually the problem. But how did you even learn it? All I have been taught are the absolute basics."

  Jeremiah thinks about this. "I close my eyes and I can s-s-see it in front of me. I understand it. I don't know how else to describe it t-t-to you."

  "This is so far advanced that I can't even begin to comprehend it," Ty says. He is studying the walls as well.

  "This is n-n-nothing compared to what Amber is doing," Jeremiah points at the fourth wall. It is filled with words and letters and their translation underneath. In the center of the wall, there is a small drawn box. Aries reads it out loud:

  "Have you ever seen the sky?

  Have you ever wondered why

  So many stars abide

  Inside the firmament?"

  Amber smiles. Part of her initial shyness is dissipating.

  "That's beautiful," Aries says.

  Aries can see—behind the shyness and the girl’s tall, skinny appearance—something deeper, something stronger than what meets the eye.

  "There's more," Amber says. "Let me show you."

  Aries follows Amber out of the room.

  "Wait t-t-till you s-s-see this!" Jeremiah exclaims.

  They leave the room and go down the gently curved hallway.

  "When Mila drew the machine," Amber says, "we had to move into the next room."

  "How long did it take you to fill this one?" Ty asks.

  Amber and Jeremiah look at each other. "About three w-w-weeks," Jeremiah answers.

  "Three weeks?" Ty replies. "What did you do before that?"

  "What do you mean?" Amber asks.

  "I mean, which room were you in before that?"

  "This is our fourteenth room. We always run out of space after a while," Amber says, as they enter the next room.

  Aries cannot believe her eyes. One wall has a perfect representation of Mila's drawing on it. It fills the wall completely. The stone pillars on either side of the machine reach from the floor to the ceiling.

  "This is so much more detailed than what I saw," she says into the silence.

  "It's only more detailed than you remember it," Mila says. "I saw it as you saw it. I didn't add anything, nor did I take anything away. This is how you saw it. Even though you can't remember it fully."

  Aries goes to the opposite wall, looks at the drawing from there. She can't deny its pull. It stirs something inside her, as if awakening an ancient memory of sorts. On the floor she sees a small sculpture, minuscule in size and unrecognizable from where she stands.

  "What's this?" she asks, as she kneels beside it. When she looks closer she sees it’s a sculpture of a girl. It can't be more than an inch in height.

  "That's you," Tevis says. Max stands next to her, signing to her. Tevis continues. "This is a fairly accurate representation of your size, compared to the machine, taken from Mila's drawing. I'm not sure about the exact distance to it, but based on the height and width, you’re standing pretty far away.

  Tevis must have seen Aries’s bewildered expression.

  "We'll help you figure it out," she says.

  Aries isn't so sure. In fact, she doesn't really want to figure it out at all. Max signs something to Tevis. Aries knows what he said before Tevis translates.

  "We believe in you, Aries."

  Nothing ever contradicted her view of herself more than this statement. Part of her recognizes that there is more at play here than meets the eye. Her coming here, her meeting the children—it all seems to have happened not by chance but through something greater than herself. Before she can say that she needs a rest, that she needs to lay down and let all this settle in, Tevis continues. "Are you ready for one more?"

  "Yes," she says, even though she wants to say no.

  "Come." Tevis takes her arm. "I think this one you might enjoy."

  Aries can't think of anything right now that would make her feel any better. They leave the room and make their way further down the hallway to a set of stairs leading downward. She somehow thought the children would only occupy one floor. Now that they are descending the stairs, she realizes it makes sense that they’ve spread out into the others.

  "We couldn't find a room high enough up there so we had to go down two levels," Amber says. Aries can see her excitement. Her eyes reveal a sparkle that Aries hasn't seen before. She feels more and more in awe of the children, what they have endured, are still enduring. She would've probably given up, already, lost all hope somewhere down the line. Two years is a long time.

  They arrive at the platform two stories below and walk down another hallway until they come to a door. They enter a dark room that is larger and taller than all the others. It reminds Aries of the room in which they spoke to Sam earlier. A large cylindrical object stands in the center. Right now, it's a dark shadow. Max enters, moves to one of the corners of the room, and turns on a switch. A couple of dim lightbulbs come on. They cast enough light for the object to become recognizable.

  "No way!" Aries says. "This is... how did you do this?"

  Max shrugs and smiles. The cylindrical shape must be twenty feet high at least. It’s scored with vertical lines that reach from the floor all the way up. Close up, Aries sees that it’s made from cardboard, paper, and other materials she can't identify.

  Max signs to Tevis, and while he does she can hear him in her thoughts.

  "Two hundred and eighty-two stories high," Tevis says.

  "This is our building," Aries says.

  Max nods.

  "How long did it take you?" Aries asks.

  "Fifteen months, more or less," Tevis says. "But it's not finished. A few dozen floors at the top are missing."

  Now that her eyes have adjusted to the dim light, Aries can see a small vertical gap in the center. Amber and Max move to either side of it and place their hands inside. Jeremiah squeezes between them, places his hands into the gap as well. Two of the other children each grab a rope that hangs from the ceiling on either side. Then Amber pulls from one side, Max from the other, and Jeremiah uses both hands to push. The two children pull on the rope. The gap enlarges as both halves of the model move away from each other. The sides swing open, laying bare the inside.

  The core of the building, now sliced into two equal parts, extends all the way up toward the ceiling. They can see the floors they are in now, the prison further up, the water treatment, and food processor, and more. Several more ropes hang from the ceiling next to the model.

  "What are they for?" she asks.

  "We have to be able to get up there and we don't have ladders." Tevis translates Max's signing. "There are usually four of us working at any given time, with two others at each rope making sure it's securely fastened, and also to let us down or pull us up."

  "This is ingenious," Ty says. "To make all this out of... nothing. It's remarkable."

  "We've got t-t-time," Jeremiah says.

  "Can I go up there?" Aries asks.

  "I'll take you," Tevis says, while pointing at Max. "I mean, Max will take you."

  "Great!" Aries says, already seeing if she can make o
ut her floors. "Ty, you should come up too."

  "That's quite alright. I can see it all from here," he says. "You can report back to me."

  "Okay," Aries replies, as the ends of two ropes are lowered. They look thin but sturdy. When she thinks about where they possibly could have gotten them from, Max signs something that she, in turn, understands without Tevis translating.

  "Sam brought us many things that we didn't have before," Tevis says. "Without him, this would not be here. Neither would most of us."

  Several of the kids quietly repeat his name, "Samuel Eikenboom. Samuel Eikenboom. Samuel Eikenboom."

  "Why are they repeating his name?" Aries asks.

  "Repeating one’s name three times is a sign of honor and gratitude," Tevis says.

  Most of the kids are here. Their faces remind Aries of the faces of the children in the dining room of the orphanage she sees every day; faces filled with both the hopelessness of their lives and the fervent wish for change. "I would like... to get a list with the names of the children here," she says to Tevis. "I would like to call out their names. All of them."

  There is a moment of silence in the room. Then Aries grabs the rope and tightens it onto her harness.

  "I got you," Sam says, as he takes the other end of the rope. Max has slipped into a harness of sorts, as well. Two older kids hold the other end of his rope. He nods. Aries feels a pull as she is lifted off the ground. Every twenty-five floors, there is a plate with the number of the respective floor on it. They must be about eight feet up when they reach one hundred. Aries figures that each floor is roughly an inch. Max nods.

  How can you understand what I'm thinking? she asks. There is a slight delay, then he nods again.

  Your friend is translating, she hears.

  Born-of-Night?

  That's what you call her, yes. Somehow, she understands me and through her I can hear you.

  Aries looks for the hawk but can't see her.

  I'm up here.

  When Aries looks up, she sees her sitting on a small ledge below the ceiling.

  What floor were you on? Max thinks.

  Two hundred and second.

  Max signs to Sam to pull them up to the 200th floor.

  How can you remember all this? Aries asks. You couldn't possibly have been everywhere in the building.

  Most floors are alike, Max answers. In fact, each set of four floors is pretty much identical to the next. For example, the room we are in is three times as high as a regular room. Those rooms happen every four stories. I haven't seen the whole building but it makes sense that, if you know the layout of one set of floors, you can get a good sense of the rest.

  When they arrive at two hundred, Sam anchors the rope on a hook in the floor.

  "All that's missing is a mini version of you, Ty, walking around in here giving orders," Aries calls out.

  "I hope I wasn't that bad," Ty answers.

  "No. You weren't," Aries replies with a smile. Then she points a few stories up. "Somewhere around here are my sleeping quarters and the dining room of the orphanage. Too bad we can't look inside somehow."

  We can, Max replies in her thoughts. At least I can give you an idea.

  Max signs to Tevis who translates, "Can you pull us up to the current floor?"

  "Sure thing," Sam says. He and the two kids on the other side loosen the rope and pull them up until they arrive at the unfinished part of the model.

  You can see the layout better where it's unfinished, Aries hears. Just imagine those are your floors. The layout is identical.

  Aries now can see the unfinished section of the building: The curved hallway of the first tier, the sleeping quarters, and what is used as the dining room in the orphanage, now a room the same size a few stories above. She can see where Kiire's room is in relation to hers.

  You see this opening here? she thinks.

  Yes, Max replies.

  The square opening is actually round. It's one of the main vertical air vents. I think there are six altogether.

  I've never seen one in person, Max thinks.

  Also, the horizontal spaces you left open are correct. Those are air ducts as well. Somewhere, not far from there, a few stories up, is the room I was... held in. She looks at Max, his blond hair disheveled, his eyes looking straight into hers. Tears form in her eyes. She thinks for a second that she should hide from him the remnants of the horror that night brought, but she realizes she can't do that, doesn't even want to.

  I'm sorry. She hears him in her thoughts.

  "What shall we do?" she says, not realizing that she said it out loud. "What are we supposed to do?"

  Max takes her hand. It's warm. Not uncomfortable, but warm compared to hers.

  I think we should try to get your friends, Max thinks.

  How? she asks.

  We should go up there and get them, Max replies.

  We can't. There is no way up except through the prison. And even if it were possible, it would take too long and we would be detected long before we even reached the upper floors.

  I need to show you something, she hears him think. He grabs one of the ropes hanging from the ceiling. When she looks up, Aries sees that the rope she is tied onto is actually hooked into a track. About eight feet in length, it spans from side to side, making it possible for whoever works up there to move vertically. Max pulls himself over to one side of the model. Aries does the same and moves a few feet to the right.

  You see this here?

  Yes. What is it? It doesn't look like an air shaft, Aries replies.

  It's not.

  How do you know?

  I know because I have ridden in it many times when I was little.

  It's an elevator!

  Yes. It goes all the way to the 278th floor. It's one of the few elevators that span the whole length of the building. It takes forty-three seconds from the bottom to the top. It must have some sort of electromagnetic propulsion system. There is no cable in the center.

  "How does that help us?" Aries says out loud.

  About a year ago, Max continues, we discovered a space between two walls. It was just empty space behind one of the wall covers. Tuari found it. He was exploring some of the areas we don't use, all the way at the bottom. He followed it. We didn't see him for a whole day. He came back telling us that he had found an access point to the bottom of the elevator shaft.

  "From here?" Aries says.

  Yes. The gap he found leads under the building and all the way to the outermost tier. The only problem is that we'll be detected immediately if we set foot in the cabin.

  "Not necessarily," Aries says after a while. She takes out the necklace with the small pill container from inside her coverall.

  What's that? Max asks.

  "If it still works, I think we have a way of getting into the elevator undetected. That's an AI/RSC module."

  A what?

  "It basically makes you invisible to cameras. At least, it blurs your image enough to make you unrecognizable. If it works. I'm just not sure where to go once we're up there. Do you maybe have a drawing of some of the floors? A blueprint?"

  Max grins. I do.

  Before she can reply, Max signs to Tevis, who tells Sam and the two kids to lower them to the ground.

  At the bottom, Aries unhooks the rope from the harness while Max disappears out the door.

  "There is an elevator," she says to Ty.

  "Come again?"

  "Tuari discovered an elevator that leads all the way to the 278th floor."

  "Why would you want to go up there?" Ty asks. "We just came all the way down."

  Aries can see the concern in his eyes.

  "I need to get Kiire. And Seth. And somehow C.J."

  "Why? And how are you going to do this?"

  "I'm... not sure."

  "And what then?" Ty says.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Let's say you can somehow get them down here. Let's say you can find C.J. in one of the, I don't know, two hundred
thousand rooms in this building without being seen… what then? We don't have anything to oppose them. We don't even know if we have enough food for all of us. We have no weapons, we're not trained in battle of any kind—"

  "You are," Aries interrupts him.

  "More or less. But I'm the only one. Maybe Sam here can fire a gun. What are we doing here, Aries?"

  There is complete silence in the room. Everyone looks at them. Aries can't remember ever having seen Ty this upset.

  "Do you know how many S.S. Units exist in this building?" Ty continues. "Do you? And I'm not talking about the regular guards and personnel. I'm talking about highly trained professional soldiers. Their psychological profile doesn't suggest that they'll have any trouble killing any of us down here. Tier Six is the most protected place you can possibly imagine. For each person who lives there, there are two S.S.U.s. And that does not take into account any of the androids.

  "Even if we would give each child here a rifle and show them how to use it—and I'll be damned if I would let that happen—we would not survive for more than a minute in a real firefight. So, as much as I understand why you want to go and get your friends, I think it's a bad idea. A really bad idea."

  Ty seems to collapse within himself. The anger has bled out of him. What's behind it is the sense of protectiveness he feels toward her and the others. Aries has always wondered about the things he must have seen in his lifetime and can't help but feel a fierce love for her mentor.

  "I know," she says after a while.

  At that moment, Max comes in, a rolled-up canvas under his arm. When he is about to roll it out on the floor, Tevis gently puts her hand on his arm. He stops.

  "I have asked myself many times in the last two years why we're all down here," Tevis begins. Her eyes rest on Ty. "During this time, I have seen things that were more than astounding. Some of them were simply inexplicable by any measure. How is it possible that a girl can communicate with a bird of prey, can have whole conversations with her without anybody knowing about it. Anybody but Max, who is somehow privy to it. Through something we can't quite understand, he is able to talk to another person, hear what she is thinking, understand her, have a real conversation.

  "None of what you have seen down here is possible if you look at it through the eyes of the norm. That we are all still here is nothing short of a miracle. Yes, we have no chance against them if it comes to a firefight. Yes, they outnumber us by far. We are but a speck of dust to their machinery. An insect they can stamp out if and when they wish to do so. We're so small and insignificant that they don't even think about us. We get food delivered once a week through doors that can only be opened from the outside. We're prisoners. We've been forgotten. We are not a threat to them. They feel secure in their arrogance that we can't possibly do something, that we cannot even scratch the surface enough to dig a tiny hole into their massive apparatus. But they are wrong, Ty. They are wrong. I know it."