The metal was allowed to cool before getting packed up with everything else. Such a large and heavy bag required hoisting separately out the hole.
Ashes reburied the entrance as a mark of respect – a tomb that held the last piece of his father’s existence left untouched by undesirables. He vowed to complete his father’s work and make him proud. Rough notes he couldn’t carry were set alight before returning to the house for one final goodbye.
Back in the living room, an elderly gentleman with a little red hat emerged from his blankets and squinted at Mezox. He jumped as though startled before pointing at Mezox with a groan. A piece of paper was seised from under his sheets, peering back and forth between it and Mezox. The mute man handed it over to him.
It was a family picture taken outside one clear night. Mezox was five at the time and stood next to a homemade telescope. Both parents stood behind him with an arm around each other and him. They had a firm grasp of an excited Mezox as they desperately awaited the timer to zero.
The memory sparked a fresh tear, which the old man moved to eradicate with his not-so-fresh hanky. In a demonstration of gratitude, Mezox donated two tins of food that pleased the kind stranger.
They sat and ate a meal together until Joe would return, commencing the start of a new adventure.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
In the footsteps of heroes
Joe returned with his own provisions for the journey. Their one jive was the need for sleep. While the idea of staying overnight at Mezox’s former residence proved tempting, the dangers were too great.
A few blocks away, Joe developed an episode of anxiety over a star brighter than Venus at their zenith. He could swear that it moved.
Mezox found the thought entertaining. For him, using the surrounding stars as a reference indicated no movement. The subject turned amusing as Joe didn’t enjoy the finger of irrationality being pointed in his direction.
Twenty minutes later and Joe again raised the subject. It did appear to have moved relative to its previous position, but Mezox reserved no concern for what was above, but behind them. His one surprise was when the mystery star had vanished from view, but the generation of clouds could explain that one.
With the star out of sight and mind, Joe’s attention soon turned to teaching Mezox the intricate workings of Hypatia. Their discussions eradicated many doubts about the new realm, raising further questions that Joe couldn’t always answer.
By four in the morning, their conversation had withered to an exhaustive walk. Once outside the city, they couldn’t bother with erecting a tent, preferring to sleep on solid ground using a single sheet. The weather permitted it.
At daybreak, they consumed a rationed portion of food as planned for every breakfast and lunch – about half a tin. Joe had fruit, vegetables, crisps and other treats that would last a few days. Water was also a commodity. They carried little of it on Joe’s advice, claiming to know the locations of numerous rivers and springs.
Then came Mezox’s big question. “How long will the journey take?”
Joe bluntly stated that, at twenty-five miles a day, it would still take over two weeks to reach their target.
Such a daily goal felt harrowing. The challenge wouldn’t have been so daunting if one began with optimal health. Joe had to remind Mezox that they were stepping in the footsteps of those that faced violent purges, accomplishing the same feat while chased by a monstrous militia – “with children that moaned less.” Mezox reconsidered his state of fortune and continued without muttering another word of complaint.
The coming days would prove his body’s ability to adapt and endure. Their minimal target was met for the first time on the fourth day. Mezox even had the energy to spare. Intent on engaging in his father’s work from the journey’s initiation, the capacity to do so had finally arrived. With additional daylight hours, he slung out a groundsheet and enjoyed the sun’s warm embrace atop of a hilly meadow.
Joe asked of the disk as it was removed to access items underneath. And since Mezox couldn’t yet fully explain it, Joe headed out in search of water.
As the birds chirped around him and a gentle breeze soothed his feet, Mezox opened the oldest journal, which began like any ordinary diary. It pertained to Alex’s first years at a particle research facility - a summary of things he learnt and came to question. He began to assume he was onto something with the following:
“I thought about a reverse D-ring-type accelerator. Instead of accelerating particles away from a central position, we squeeze particles towards it from an external circular path. My idea is to transfer that centripetal motion (the force acting on the particle towards the centre of orbit) onto the particle itself. Through the conservation of angular momentum, the particle would spin on its axis. Through this, one could, hypothetically, overcome its structural integrity or physically change its properties altogether.”
Simple enough, so far. However, the next several paragraphs detailed a plethora of equations that Mezox couldn’t understand. He knew that a comprehensive understanding of all the theory’s facets was imperative if taking the baton of discovery. Back then, all he could do was search out snippets of information that summarised work in laymen’s terms.
Before Alex moved on, he had a personal definition of energy, other than its ability to do work:
“Energy here refers to that which forms the fabric of our universe on its most fundamental level. Think of Einstein’s theory of general relativity and how grids in space encompass vast expanses on the macro level. Here, I think on the minutest of scales, where lines are vibrating units that form an ordered state. They can be stretched and compressed while affecting their neighbours across space and time. Could it be the basis of entropy?
I could also infer magnetism’s similar properties, but its effects are a result of energy fields being stretched or and unable to find a place within the structured surrounds.
The following representation can be thought as a solution in which particle contents can dissolve and re-condense elsewhere. I’ll call it ’spring theory.’”
“Particles contain a condensed and almost incoherent collection of springs. They’re bound by the actions of a vacant core that springs wish to fill. They do so at once, but their approach draws them uncomfortably close to one another and thus rebound. That outward action increases the core’s potential to restart the process. This is maintained almost indefinitely.
It’s this behaviour I wish to somehow copy in the making of a hyper version of a particle. For this, I would call it the ‘hypertron drive.’”
Energy profit was a glaring issue for the hyperdrive. Even if a hyper-particle could be stabilised, it didn’t imply readiness in any application.
He read on until Joe returned having successfully acquired water. Joe found Mezox staring into the evening sky with barely a blink and expressionless. “That good was it?”
Mezox didn’t so much as glance at him. “No,” he said in a sulk. – “Well, it was.”
“But?”
“I never knew of my father’s beliefs and, now, I think he was like you.”
Joe smiled and sat next to him. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“Yeah – I mean, he’s in hell right now.”
Joe rolled his eyes, ensuring Mezox saw it, too. “All too often, people employ Pascal’s wager or death as reasoning for their belief in God. It gives me the impression that the belief in God is one of necessity.”
“I don’t understand how that relates?”
“Do you wish to believe your father’s in hell?”
“Of course not,” replied Mezox.
“Then don’t.”
Mezox laughed with exasperation. “You think it’s that easy?”
“No, I don’t – And I can prove it. Hypatia’s named so after a lady from Alexandria during times of antiquity. She once stated - and I’m paraphrasing – that, regarding superstitions, the child mind accepts without question and only after years of tragedy can he perhaps
be relieved of them.”
Mezox watched on in silence while clutching his knees.
Joe glanced at the notes. “What did your father write that hurt you so much?”
“That every aspect of existence is an accident. The universe can be explained without invoking a deity.”
Joe giggled. “Even if there were a God, everything would still be an accident.”
“How so?”
“Our story can’t be the only possible outcome. If I were God, I wouldn’t allow my creation to suffer as we.”
“You know, for a moment as they reverse hung me, I became angry at God. Then it faded, and, for a minute or so, so did he.”
The stars began to pierce the sun’s diminishing refractions. Joe suggested they lay back and appreciate the cosmic expanse. “I like to think of myself as a happy accident, not the misfortune we tend to ascribe the word.”
“And what if our existence is to fulfil a purpose suited only to us?”
“Nature asks that you reproduce and survive a while. Outside of that, your purpose becomes whatever you choose, and humanity judges you on that, not some magical man in the sky.”
“You believe you’re accountable?”
“Of course. I’d seek forgiveness from whomever I may have wronged. To pray is all about making you feel good. I am accountable to my fellow species.”
Mezox’s array of challenged perceptions were a lot to chew. Thoughts of his father’s continued suffering came uncontrollably, but the stars offered a welcome diversion for sleep’s elusiveness to fade.
He dreamt of flying without limit. The sense of freedom induced a positive vibe the following day.
Again, the twenty-five-mile goal was more than achieved. They could have kept going with daylight to spare, but a nearby patch of woodland offered a rare but desirable hideout for the night. Rain began to trickle down, forcing them to set the tent. Both were soaked by its time of completion.
Joe made a dent and hole in the tent. Mezox was annoyed by his move but calmed as the rainwater streamed into a pot for drinking and washing.
Their high protein meals were rapidly consumed before they conversed, but not for long. Joe’s consumption of food was typically followed by an urge to expel breakfast.
The rain died down, giving a window of opportunity that Joe couldn’t allow to pass. He gave a generous distance between him and the tent for fear of explosive outbursts.
Foliage collected on their travels were placed at the feet of his chosen spot. He was in the process of dropping his kegs when a rigorous rustle of leaves and twigs broke his concentration. Given the potential for wild animals, he turned out of interest to find a tall woman staring at him. She didn’t react nor speak.
“May I help you?” he said nervously.
“Why you here?” she asked with a strange accent.
“Sorry, do you live nearby?” concerned his attempt to defecate there had offended a local.
“No,” she said.
Joe smiled anxiously before backtracking into the forest to make his deposit elsewhere. Once deemed safe, he proceeded to do his business, but again she appeared.
He pleaded, “Just please go home, lady.”
“When ready,” she replied.
Her unusual character concerned Joe to the point where he felt unsafe. A steady pace back to the tent evolved into a heavy jog. He could sense her pursuit.
Mezox was startled by the sound of someone running his way. Before he could zip the front, Joe launched himself inside and, in a frenzied fashion, sealed it instead.
Joe was in the process of catching his breath when he said. “Mate, all I want is take a poo, but this weird lady keeps following me.”
Mezox didn’t know what to think or how to respond. “Why was she following you?”
“Hmm, let me go and ask,” he said sarcastically. “Maybe she was getting off on some sick fetish before murdering me?”
Mezox raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. She’s big enough to put either of us over her knee and does as she pleases.”
Mezox crawled head first through the exit. “Right. Are you sure you’re gay?”
Joe begged Mezox not to open the tent, but his words fell on deaf ears.
Mezox’s head protruded through the opening when he came to a sudden stop. He was in the process of staring down someone’s feet. The footwear was unusual in itself; dark grey but glossy, unlike anything he’d seen before. His head raised over her legs of creaseless trousers that were a lighter shade of grey. Further up, it appeared she was dressed in matching overalls.
He stuttered when saying, “Lovely evening.” And with a smile, of course.
“Why are you here?” she demanded to know.
Mezox came to also presume that she was a local unhappy with their presence. “We’ll be gone in the morning.”
“Where will you go?”
Mezox paused for a truthful answer that didn’t arouse suspicion. “North of here.”
“Good, me too,” she said before inviting herself inside the tent.
With her inside, Joe stormed out, shouting, “That’s it, lad. Stall her for a while,” as he went.
Mezox’s comfort levels struck rock bottom. The unusual stranger looked around in delight. A torch from the mines, designated for emergencies, was turned on. It revealed that she had big blue eyes and long fair hair.
He broke the silence with the obvious. “What’s your name?”
She was happy to answer, “Inaya.”
“Okay. From where have you come, Inaya?”
“Distant lands. I was a scientist.”
Mezox was delighted with her answer, spiking his comfort factor closer back to normality. “What branch?”
“Several,” she replied.
Mezox couldn’t tell if it were him or her that was confused. Before he could continue, Joe had returned.
Joe peeked in the hope that Inaya had left. With his wishes dashed, he couldn’t help but blurt, “Are you coming or going?”
She smiled and said, “Going. I go with you.”
He glanced at Mezox in disbelief.
“She’s coming with us,” said Mezox while feigning a burst of joy.
Food rations were Joe’s primary concern - that and staying alive.
Mezox’s doubts escalated upon removing the disk. Inaya’s focus shifted to the object’s position.
In the process of offering her a tin of food, Inaya rejected those with meat by throwing them in Joe’s direction.
She stopped at a tin of baby potatoes in brine. “We have something similar back home,” she said pleasantly surprised.
Joe and Mezox watched in bewilderment as she devoured the tin’s contents, including salty water – despite Mezox’s offer of fresh hydration.
Joe couldn’t hold back any longer. “You know. Mezox here and I had escaped from somewhere bad and, I can’t help but wonder if you’ve also escaped someplace?”
“Yes, I escape many crazy places,” she replied.
Joe spoke aloud to himself. “That’s what I feared.”
He’d accomplished several journeys to Hypatia while smuggling defectors, and never once came across anyone like Inaya. And yet, Joe’s concerns couldn’t warrant a move to eject and leave Inaya wandering the countryside alone. They were stuck with her and knew it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Hypatian realm
Inaya’s nuances became the norm for their journey’s latter half. Joe remained somewhat impatient with her. Stuck between Inaya and Mezox each night, her size and fever-like heat forced him to toss and turn every night.
With each passing day, Joe’s mood improved. The end of his woes was finally in their tens, then units, of miles.
“Anytime now,” Joe repeatedly stated as they penetrated a thick barrier of brush and trees that delineated the separatists’ territory. It surrounded the Hypatian realm with few gaps and roads. It took ten minutes of Joe’s quick pacing to
reach the other side. And when they did, a part of Hypatia’s city came into view from high on the hill. A few radiating bands stretched from the hidden centre like a sliced pie.
On their travels, Joe informed Mezox of a spectacular library at Hypatia’s heart. A building of central governance sat adjacent to it. A varied assortment of departments, key in Hypatia’s functionality, encircled it.
The military ringfenced that whole area. Hypatia was no stranger to infiltrators and the occasional attack via suicidal loonies. Two checkpoints, in and out the city, were each maintained by dozens of heavily armed guards. Several large barracks were situated elsewhere around the rungs of barbed fences.
These were all in service to the people of Hypatia itself. This outer region was sliced into quadrants and proportioned according to their function. Industry was one piece of the overall pie, which held the most significant share given its importance for food, sanitation, construction and miscellaneous products.
Either side and along it were family homes to live within close proximity to work. It was designed this way to eliminate the need for motorised transport. All could benefit from a healthy walk or cycle to work in the clean air. And as a result, respiratory diseases were minuscule by comparison to London’s. Other segments covered anything from education to shopping and leisure.
Vehicles still played an important role. Products required shifting and resources collecting. Food and human waste provided the fuels to warm homes by night and run cars, as well as producing explosives for military and industrial applications.
Across the farmlands, a vehicle carrying armed personnel intercepted and apprehended the three of them. Mezox was surprised by their thorough frisking. Joe did all the talking.
Handcuffed and bundled onto rear seats, their ride into the city was a welcome relief. A low but flat-topped hillside stood as the final obstacle. A checkpoint guarded a tunnel entrance, where they were forced to wait as four flatbeds came hurtling out.
Infidel's Corner Page 10