Through the Never

by J. A. Culican

  Javen frowned but felt an underlying excitement. A soon as he finished this test, he was going to make a vid call back to his parents. He doubted Nero had ever messed with the son of a senator before. His mom was neither dull, boring, nor ugly, and Sergeant Nero was going to find her pretty foot up his ass.

  Her hand suddenly grabbed his and she yanked his arm, pulling his face down into hers. Her lips came hard against his as her hand corralled his head, keeping him hemmed in to a prolonged kiss.

  Finally she pulled back. “That’s for saving me,” she said with a wink.

  He laughed. “Uh, anytime.”

  “Bet the freeborn girls back home don’t kiss like that,” she added. “We Wards don’t mess around.”

  The last sentence she spoke rattled Javen. He glanced at her neck, then saw it. Her tattoo was barely visible, hidden under her thin blond hair. He had just kissed a Ward? Or rather, the Ward had just kissed him. Not a proper thing back where he came from. Probably not proper at the academy either.

  “I see what you’re thinking,” she said.

  Javen felt his face flush a little. Was he that transparent! Lies flew to the tip of his tongue. Lies about how he didn’t care if she were a Ward or not, but she cut in before he spoke.

  “You’re concerned about Nero finding me. You don’t have to worry, I made an AI program to replicate myself in that sick world he created. I doubt he’ll notice I’m not there. I’m a damn fine programmer, honest to Jupiter I am.”

  Javen felt his unease grow a little stronger… the thought of Nero looking for her left a disturbing image in his mind. The conductor she’d threaded him must have allowed her to switch out of her arena and into his. The level of trust he was placing in her was discomforting.

  But he’d made his choice and now he had to live with it.

  “My name’s Javen. What’s yours?”

  “Alexis.”

  Javen smiled. “I like that name, it is my grandmother’s name.”

  “I like the name too,” she said, “even if it was assigned to me by a computer.”

  Javen wasn’t sure how to react to that, so he kept silent and listened to the wind blowing through the trees. The path was just as Javen remembered it from his childhood.

  “So,” said Alexis, “what’s a nice, clean-shaven guy like you doing at the Academy?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. A part of me wants to go into government work, like my parents. Serving a four-year contract with the military puts you ahead of a lot of competition for high-level jobs, especially if I can make officer. But then, the other part of me doesn’t know if it’s really what I want to do. I regret enlisting. It was my parents’ idea. It’s only been a day, and I already know I’m going to hate it here.” Javen looked over at Alexis, “What’s a nice girl like you doing at the academy?”

  She snorted. “Oh please, I told you I’ve got sin and wounds. I’m a hell of a mess! But, thanks! We do have something in common though, can you keep a secret?”

  “Sure.”

  “I don’t want to be here either, Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s important to stand up and fight for what you believe in, But…” she peeked up at Javen, her eyes intense.

  “I understand,” he said, “There’s a difference between choosing to enlist and being forced in.”

  “Exactly,” said Alexis cheerfully. Then her voice changed, “No, that’s not it.”

  Javen was curious. “What is it? You already know I don’t want to be here.”

  Alexis took a deep breath. “Ok, here’s the truth of it. I’d rather be fighting for the colonists.”

  Javen almost stumbled.

  Alarm bells blared in his head. The word “treason” echoed loud and clear in every chamber of his mind. What she had said was a crime, and up until that very moment Javen wouldn’t have thought twice at seeing someone executed over it. It seemed impossible hearing those words from this girl. She wasn’t a criminal.

  Javen laughed nervously, “You don’t mean that?”

  “I do. I have my reasons too.”

  “It’s one thing to wish you weren’t in the military, but the colonists—you’ve seen what they’re like from the news clips. They murdered Ambassador Kio and nine of the negotiators after the first ceasefire? How could you side with people like that?”

  “I could if I knew that Ambassador Kio and the others weren’t murdered by who you think. They were betrayed. Someone from the Terran side wanted them dead. Ambassador Kio was Luna’s biggest advocate. If the colonists did anything wrong, it was failing to realize he was in danger.”

  She jumped in front of him and began walking backwards down the path, her eyes intense on his. “Think about it. Two years ago all colonist signals were blocked to prevent the supposed flood of propaganda. That means the only people in communication with them now are the negotiators. That is, with the nine replacements selected by the War Council.”

  Javen cut in, “How do you know Kio and the nine were backstabbed?”

  “Because,” she said intensely, her face hard, “my brother, he was one of the negotiators—and he was murdered.”

  Javen cocked his head to the side. “Your brother—but isn’t he a Ward also?”

  Alexis face remained stony. “You don’t think a Ward can become anything?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying,” but he stopped, unable to add anything else because that was exactly what he had been saying.

  “The Terran government uses Wards all the time. They pick the top performers and use us in dangerous situations. Our marks are removed so we look like freeborns. There are a lot of things you don’t know, clearly. Your government is neck deep in secrets and lies.”

  Javen swallowed down her words, as offensive as they were to him considering his family’s status.

  He simply nodded, and Alexis fell in beside him again as he walked down the path. He still felt drawn to move toward that old place where tragedy struck his family. A moment in time that haunted him to this day.

  Alexis continued on, “As you know from the news clips, the negotiators all died in their beds from bullet wounds—but my brother… he managed to pencil out three names on his luggage, then scribbled the word, ‘betrayed.’ His luggage was mailed to me five days later. The writing was faint, but in the right light, it was plain as day.”

  Javen didn’t know what to say or what to believe. He thought of his mother who dealt directly with the negotiators. She had never seemed suspicious of the matter.

  “What about the senators who deal with the negotiators, are they being lied to?”

  Alexis nodded. “Some are. Others I suspect know the truth. Now you see why I support the colonists.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a lot to take in, but yeah, If everything you said is true, then of course I get where you’re coming from. It’s just a lot for me to accept all at once. I’d need to look into it for myself.”

  Alexis kicked a rock from the trail. “I’ve never told anyone about it. I’ve been too scared. I don’t know why I blurted all that to you. Stupid emotions, I guess. You come and save me from Nero, I kiss you, then I throw caution out the window, like we’ve been some kind of best friends or something.”

  “I’m not going to tell anyone,” said Javen. “I promise. It’s just between you and me.”

  They continued on without talking until they reached a spacious break in the sparse woods. An enormous cottonwood tree stood in the middle of a meadow beside a small stream. Javen saw a boy underneath the cottonwood shouting up at the branches above. Javen spotted a second boy clinging to a bent limb half way up the tree.

  His stomach twisted. He recognized the two.

  It was he and his younger brother, Steven. Javen remembered the meadow and the day he dared his brother to climb the tree.

  It was the day Steven died.

  “I can’t do it! I’m too scared!” shouted Steven from the tree branch.

  “You know I’m afraid of heights,” he heard the younger versi
on of himself shout back, “You’re just being dumb! Come on down or we’re gonna be late!”

  Steven was crying. “I’m scared! I can’t do it by myself.”

  “Just put one foot down at a time and use the big branches.”

  “Okay,” said Steven weakly.

  Javen watched as Steven shakily stood up on the branch and grabbed a smaller limb overhead for support.

  Javen’s heart dropped into his stomach.

  He suddenly broke into a run. “NOOO!” he screamed.

  The two boys looked over at him.

  Javen felt something different than the simple old dread he had experienced when he was younger. It was more like terror. He knew what would happen. That terrible picture he could never erase from his mind—his brother’s broken, limp body lying at the foot of the tree.

  “Hey! This is private property!” declared Javen’s younger, scrawnier double.

  “Stand back,” Javen shouted, and pushed aside the young version of himself. “I’m gonna try and help your brother.”

  Javen looked up at Steven who was huddled against the tree. He felt a rush of courage and adrenaline despite his fear of heights. “Hold on, Steven, I’m coming up.”

  He began to climb, starting with a big thick branch about chest high, and then to another, and another.

  Strangely, Javen felt the rush of purpose and opportunity flow through his blood. If he could save his brother here, in his mind, would that somehow free him from the guilt he’d carried from this grim day? The mere thought of it brought tears to his eyes. He wondered what it would feel like to bring Steven down safely. To see him alive on the ground and wrap his arms around him. To hear words from his little brother’s mouth that he never got to hear.

  Was this a chance at redemption?

  As cruel as Sergeant Nero seemed to be, this chance to save his brother filled him with hope. Was Nero’s cruel and demented personality only a facade? Could he actually be trying to help cadets overcome their past?

  A branch broke off in Javen’s hand, and he threw his arms out, clinging to the trunk.

  His fear of heights returned instantly. He didn’t dare look down.

  Again, he focused on reaching the next branch but as he did, the old dread snapped his hand back as soon as he leaned out a few inches.

  Surveying the branches above, it seemed impossible for him to go further. Fear held his arms to the tree like a magnet. He forced himself to try again. He stretched again for the branch above him.

  His brother Steven peered down, watching from only ten feet above.

  Javen forced his feet to rely on the shaky limb beneath them and concentrated on the branch above.

  Then he heard Alexis shouting.

  “…the tree! Something’s coming down!”

  Javen turned to look out at her. She was running across the meadow, pointing skyward.

  Javen looked up, confused. He saw his brother staring down at him, but there was something else. He saw a flash of orange. Something was moving quickly down the tree towards Steven. Javen caught another glimpse and it shocked him.

  It could only be one animal… Nero’s orangutan.

  Briefly, he wondered if the animal might be there to help, but then, everything he’d heard about Nero spoke of a very different truth.

  “Watch out, Steven!” shouted Javen. He began to climb frantically up the tree, his dread out-played by his desire to protect his brother.

  Steven cried out, breaking Javen’s concentration from climbing.

  He glanced up. Steven was clinging with both hands to a smaller, bowing branch, his feet dangling just to the left of Javen.

  Had Steven tried to move and slipped?

  The answer to that question was written across his little brother’s face.

  Blood dripped from Steven’s ear, a fiery red handmark was printed on the skin across his cheek.

  Any hope Javen had felt towards a secret good underlying Sergeant Nero’s test vanished like a ship into a black hole.

  Javen clenched his teeth and reached for Steven’s foot, but it was just out of reach.

  The orangutan brought its big, wiry arm down and grabbed onto the straining tree limb. Convulsing its hairy body, the orangutan began to shake the branch furiously. Steven screamed and suddenly he plummeted.

  Javen lunged and felt the swish of air rush past his fingers and then Steven was gone. A cracking of branches sounded from below and then a sickening thud that cut Steven’s cry short.

  Javen clung to the trunk, his body shaking. He didn’t look down. He already knew what he’d see if he did. Instead he looked up, his eyes falling on the orange-haired monster above him. Hot tears burned in his eyes.

  The orangutan squatted on a branch, staring at him, lips pulled back as if mocking him with a smile. Then it looked away and began to carve something into the tree with its fingernail.

  Javen suddenly remembered the sidearm he’d been issued. He looked down and found it waiting for him in its holster. He reached for it eagerly and drew it, but when he looked up to take aim, the orangutan was gone.

  He forced himself to climb further up the tree and only stopped once he’d reached the perch the beast had stood on.

  Etched in jagged scratches into the skin of the tree were six words. Stay away from the bitch - Nero.

  The moment he read the words, Javen’s childhood world went dark.

  He was blind again. Only darkness surrounded him. A moment ago he had been in the cottonwood tree. Now he had just a vague sense of where he was.

  He reached down probing with his fingers and felt a chair below him. He reached up to his head and touched hard plastic. The helmet. He was back in the test room.

  Had Nero kicked him out?

  The room was quiet, except for the sound of faint, uneasy breathing in front of him.

  That could only be one person.

  “Alexis,” he whispered.

  No response. He heard her breathing grow louder, erratic.

  “Alexis,” he called louder, but she didn’t seem to hear him.

  Javen wondered if Nero had found her, or if her panicked breathing was the result of her losing connection with him and being sent back to her own twisted test.

  He wanted to simply sit there and fail ICT. As soon as he got out of there, he’d make a phone call to his parents. His mother had the right connections. There was no way Nero’s behavior would be allowed, and Javen could retake the test after the fallout.

  But then there was Alexis. He didn’t feel right about leaving her. It seemed clear that her trick to fool Nero had failed. The sergeant knew she’d joined Javen in his scenario, and Nero had kicked him out into the test room, but not Alexis.

  He decided to try and find a way back in. What Nero would do if he reentered, he didn’t know.

  Javen relaxed his muscles and took a long, deep breath. He cleared his mind, focusing on the pricking needle at the back of his skull. Something stirred behind his eyelids, summoned as if out of a dream. He began to hear voices fading in and out. Colors began forming in his mind and they slowly grew into shapes.

  He felt his body begin to take form in his mind and he was no longer in the test room. Nero’s voice droned maniacally nearby. The blurred outline of people stood beside him. Slowly they came into focus.

  He was back with the group of cadets, and they were huddled together in the staging room. Nero was in the middle of a speech.

  “…If you thought the last arena was boring, this next one will give you nightmares. Stay low, leeches, and keep together. If one of those colonists tags you with a hot round, you’re going to feel it like fire. It’ll rip and burn, then kick off into different parts of your body—not pretty either. Ready for the action? It’s coming to you straight from my warm and fuzzy memory bank with love.

  “Try not to die.”

  Nero extended his left hand to the door and Javen followed behind one of the male cadets. Alexis hadn’t noticed him rejoin the group. Javen moved towards
her. Nero saw him and pushed her through the doorway. Javen wasn’t going to stop. He made for the door but Nero brought his hand down, pressing hard on the breast of his uniform.

  “Cadet Worth, you’re back. You had better behave yourself, or failing the test will be the least of your worries. I don’t care who your mother-fucking mommy is.”

  Javen stared straight forward.

  Nero lifted his hand. “Be a good boy now, or your parents won’t have the pleasure of saying goodbye to your face, like they did with your brother. I’ll make sure yours is a closed casket funeral, you hear?”

  It took all of Javen’s strength to keep his hand from reaching for his gun. The psychotic sergeant knew how to twist a knife in just the right places.

  He forced himself through the door, refusing to give in to Nero’s word games. He felt the air change as he left the staging area. He began to hear faint sounds. A strong, unfamiliar stench floated through the air. The darkness began to clear in his mind, but not as easily as before. The sound became more distinct. A high whistle cut through the air. Gunfire. The arena began to take form. Javen found himself on a barren plain, a bright, oppressive sun beating down on him. His feet stood on a powdery, grey dust that covered the ground.

  Dead bodies lay everywhere.

  A rocket sailed out from behind an overturned vehicle, exploding the side of a barricade.

  Gunfire pelted a sandbag barrier just in front of him.

  Crud, he was going to get shot!

  He dropped and hit the dusty surface and frantically tried to gain his bearings. He needed more cover. He spotted a ditch to his right and immediately rolled into it as the powdery ground all around him exploded with weapons fire.

  Falling into the ditch, a sudden pain stabbed at his side. He glanced down and saw a standard assault rifle strapped to his chest, the barrel digging painfully into his ribs. He brought the strap over his head and tucked the stock under his shoulder.

  The same pulling feeling that had led him down the aspen road was drawing him to the overturned vehicle that the rocket had blazed from. He began to crawl along the ditch.

  Somewhere up ahead he heard screaming.