by Amanda Jay
Tom had never been a religious type, but for just a fraction of a second, he prayed now, that this wouldn't be another dead end. That everything he had learned over the last two days wouldn't be vain. That everything his heart had gone through wouldn't be wasted.
But a fraction of a second was all it took for him to realise that they might be too late.
The office was ransacked. Papers were strewn everywhere, books lay open, pages torn out, equipment pulled apart, smashed, while the large desk had been overturned completely.
FELIX
It was too much for him. He had spent the last few days like a fish out of water, driven only by his need to prove his father's innocence. Now the disappointment was almost too much for Felix to bear.
He hunched down onto his knees. Deep breath in. Slow breath out, he told himself, even though his head swam. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. He had almost forgotten that he wasn’t alone. Skii was looking into his eyes with concern.
"I’m guessing someone got here before we did?" she asked, even though it wasn’t really a question.
"Look, everything's not lost. We just have to try and find some answers for you here. There may be something. Anything at all that could help us. Don’t give up just yet, okay?"
Felix took comfort in her kindness, and pushed himself off the floor. Tom was already moving books aside, angrily picking them up off the floor and stacking them in a corner.
"What are we looking for anyway?"
Felix had a sudden thought. "He used a typographer, just like what father gave me, right? Father used to note down everything, and he told me Muriel did too. Maybe he'll have something. Do you think he'd have something?"
It sounded pathetic, even to him.
"Better we take a look around, now that we are here anyway," Tom interrupted gruffly. Was he being agreeable?
"So we are looking for a bundle of sheets, not a book," Felix instructed. "You remember what the imprints on my sheets looked like, don’t you?"
Tom and Skii nodded and kept on at their search. It seemed futile-- there was just too much mess and papers to sort through, but Felix willed himself to move on. He just reached down to leaf through a sheaf of papers wedged underneath an upturned chair when he heard it.
It was impossible not to hear it. The alarm was so loud that Felix thought for just a second that his eardrums would explode.
"They found us out!" Tom yelled over the relentless ringing. "They probably realised the keys were missing!"
"What do we do?" Felix yelled back. "Can we leave the same way?"
"Dunno," screamed Tom. "But we have to move now."
"Hang on!" This time it was Felix who shouted. "We need to keep looking. This is the last shot we have."
"Just grab everything with printing on it!" Tom replied, stuffing his pockets with everything he could find. Felix grabbed a burlap bag he found in a corner and followed suit. The bag wasn't empty, but Felix shoved everything he had into it.
"We have to go," Skii reminded. "Now!"
She grabbed Felix’s arm and pulled him up. "Now!" she echoed, pushing the door back open and peering outside.
She led the way this time, but not the way back from where they came.
"Skii, where are we going?" Tom panted.
"We can’t very well go back through the main entrance now, can we? The City Guard will probably meet us there. We have to get where we know they can’t follow us."
Tom looked at Skii. Felix wished they wouldn't do that. That they would just say what they meant without leaving everyone else in the dark.
"Where are we going?" Felix asked, tentatively. They either didn’t hear him over the alarm, or chose to ignore him.
"Where are we going?" he tried again, a little louder. He could hear shouting in the distance and knew that they were moments away from being caught.
They were sprinting up a stairwell now, and it was all Felix could do to will his legs to keep moving as fast as they could. He wanted to peek down, to see if they were being followed, but he didn’t dare.
They reached a door which Tom forced open with his shoulder, and all at once Felix remembered Skii jumping out of the attic window that morning and his heart sank. They were on the roof. They were on the roof of one of the tallest buildings he had ever set foot in. And the view was good enough to see the City Guard trickling towards the factory.
It was as if Tom felt his hesitation. Turning around, his brother grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Look, I know you think a lot. But now is not the time to think. Now is the time to do. Hear me?"
Felix was too charged up to disagree.
"On the count of three," Tom continued. "I count to three, and you jump. You understand? Jump and hang on to that cable. When you reach that brown building over to the corner, you let go. Got it?"
Felix didn’t have time to answer before he heard the count. He swung the strap of his burlap bag over his shoulder.
"One... Two... Three."
And for perhaps the first time in his life, Felix didn’t think. He jumped.
There was just a moment of a lurching feeling. Like his stomach was positioned somewhere near his neck. But then his fingers closed around the cable and he felt himself be propelled forward by the sheer force of its movement.
And suddenly, Felix wasn’t afraid at all. He was flying, high over the chaos and confusion. He had never felt lighter. He couldn’t remember a time when he felt this free. It was as if he left himself behind on that rooftop. He let go of his grip with his left arm and dangled singlehandedly over the dusty city. He felt a surge of energy pour through him and for what felt like the first time in a very, very long time, Felix breathed.
OF WOUNDS AND HEALING
Wounds heal. That is a fact. All wounds will eventually heal. The tricky part is finding an ointment that soothes it as it does. Not picking at the scab. Resisting the urge to itch it.
The problem is that we often don't have the type of self-discipline to let our wounds get better. We rarely leave them alone for long enough-- gnawing at them, fiddling with them, and finally infecting them.
Then you are faced with an important choice-- amputate or leave the wound alone? Amputation seems easy enough, depending on the situation. It will hurt at first, of course, but then when the pain subsides, the infection will be gone. You are only left with the ghost of a limb that should have been.
Or you can give it time to heal. Lock your irritation and impatience away in a box, and pray you have the strength to choke down your demons for long enough.
I don't have the kind of strength that is necessary for amputation. So I wait, the infection angrily scraping away at the insides of my eyes, my brain, my heart. Battling the demons every day. Holding in my cupped hands the liquid promise of a future that will be more bearable.
Wounds heal. They also scar.
TOM
After scrambling back into the attic, Felix had immediately arranged himself on the floor and started sorting out the various pieces of paper they had managed to salvage. His hair windswept and his cheeks flushed, the boy looked healthier and happier than he did when Tom first met him. The way he just grabbed on to that cable when he jumped, Tom thought, I’ve never seen anyone else take to it that easily. Well, anyone else, except me.
It was a strange thought, that he would actually have something in common with this boy. From everything he could see, apart from the obvious, they couldn't be more different.
Like the way he sat there now, face scrunched up, reading through those papers, for instance. Tom tried not to resent the fact that he couldn’t help him. So he turned to the window and looked out, wondering how long it took for someone to learn how to read. He tried to ignore Skii, who sat on the floor next to Felix and kept gazing at the papers like it made sense to her. He knew she probably just wanted to help, but he couldn't shake off his irritation.
Now that they were out of Muriel's office safely, Tom was engulfed by the realisation that
he was no closer to meeting his father than before. All they had was a bunch of papers that might help Felix, but were of very little use to him.
Tom had never been good at thinking about his feelings. He never had to. There was hardly a place for feelings in this badly-lit, tiny attic. So instead he had focused on his day. What time was his next shift at the Wheel. Would he even have a job at the Wheel? Was it his turn to get dinner, or Skii’s? Easy, practical questions which had simple answers. Everything had been fine, until Felix turned up. Tom tried telling himself that it wasn't Felix's fault. But fault or not, Felix had broken through the walls where Tom had carefully stored away any thought that wasn’t relevant to his or Skii’s immediate survival. Felix had made him think - even worse, he made him feel. And Tom didn’t like that much at all.
"Okay, so these seem rather useless," Felix’s voice broke into his churning thoughts. 'It's just records of his daily activities. There was so much of it. The papers aren't in order and there’s a lot that I don’t think is relevant, but give me a little more time."
Tom paced around the attic. He wondered how long he should give them before he pushed into the next part of his plan. Skii wasn't going to like it, but well, Tom shook off that thought. She would want to do the same if she was in this situation, wouldn't she?
"I don't know how much time we should spend looking over these papers. I think the best thing to do is to go and speak to him directly."
"What? Who?" Skii knew very well what he meant. She was just stalling, hoping he would change his mind.
"Twin Faced God be damned, you know who, Skii. I need to go see Ezra."
"Without any shred of a plan? Tom, calm down. Let Felix figure out what it is we have here." She gestured to the mounds of papers.
"For how long? I don't have time for this!"
"What's this now?" Felix muttered to himself, interrupting them both. He didn't seem to have heard Tom's idea. He dug into his burlap bag and pulled out a shoe box also stuffed with papers.
There were more printed sheets but they were tied together with a black ribbon, which struck Tom as odd.
"Hang on. Hang on. These aren't Muriel's. The paper is different, see." He showed Skii an imprint of sorts on the sheets. "I think these were my father's."
"What?" Tom crossed over to where they were sitting. "How can you be sure?"
"This mark, on the corner. He had all his papers marked with it."
"Well, what do they say then?"
"Hang on, hang on. Let's see..."
Tom tried to steady his mind. It could be nothing. It was most likely nothing, he told himself. Why did he care so much anyway?
"There aren't his mathematical workings. No. He did those mostly by hand. These entries are mostly observational, I know because he used to write in this code whenever he studied something, so that he didn’t waste time. These aren't too much of his own thoughts, by the look of it, and I don’t even know what these are," Felix continued.
"Observational," Skii asked. "What do you mean?"
Felix held up a sheet. It wasn’t like Tom could make much sense of it anyway, but he could see that there was a difference, at least. Unlike words forming sentences, the sheet was covered in single letters and lines and dots.
"What does that all of that mean?" Tom questioned.
"I haven’t a clue," Felix replied. "There are a few actual entries that he has made, though. I guess I’ll just read it out loud to you and then maybe we can try to understand it?"
Tom nodded, his teeth grinding down, and Felix picked up the first sheet.
"Day 3," he read. "Udolphus has not contacted me since the riots, which I take to be a sign that either he was killed or has fled Mliss. Either way, this leaves me in a compromised situation. Was all this for vain? Can it be rectified? The Other One is exhibiting similar tendencies to that of a normal infant." There was a halt in Felix's reading, but he paused only for a moment before he carried on.
"There are no complications to his health, and his mental state appears to be sound. He has formed a close bond with Kaelyn, almost more so than Felix. Kaelyn seems confused by the whole situation-- I don't think she has yet grasped the concept of what is happening. She is engulfed by a type of sadness which she is determined not to talk about."
"The Other One? What’s that supposed to mean?" Skii asked, but Tom felt himself grow steadily colder. Felix was mentioned by name. He knew what that meant, at least.
Felix looked carefully at Skii, avoiding eye contact with Tom.
"Maybe the next few entries will explain it," he said, not committing himself just yet.
Tom nodded again.
"The next few reports are the observational ones. It goes on like that for a number of days," Felix pointed out. "It only starts up again on day 23." He started to read again.
"Everyone seems to be settling in quite nicely. Both boys are developing as per normal. They are still infants of course and no key differences can be seen between them. Kaelyn's mood seems to have improved somewhat, even though she does have quiet moments, during which she shuts me out. I suppose I must appreciate how difficult this is for her. I do wish she would try to understand though. No amount of explaining seems to suffice. It is almost as though she has sealed her heart against me. I am hoping, with all I am, that I will be able to fix this soon and things will change back to normal in time.
"Next, we have day 45," Felix shuffled through the sheets again. "Felix and the Other One seem hesitant to interact with each other. Any attempt to move them to a common play area or a single crib results in inconsolable tantrums. Kaelyn especially seems distraught by this. It is as if she does not know which child she should pick up and pacify. She too has been having mood swings lately-- and her anger seems to be directed mostly at me. I have been unsuccessful in my attempts to recreate the initial procedure. Everything that was lost in the fire would take years to replace. I do understand the importance of trying, but there are days like today where all feels lost."
Tom felt like he was in a dream, but Felix pushed on, not giving anyone a moment to react.
"Day 72. Much concern has arisen regarding the Other One. Felix will not go anywhere near him, and treats him with extreme hostility. The Other One himself seems happy to stay out of the way, and will avoid Felix when put into a common area, such as the playpen.
Tom sat quietly, as Felix continued on. I never liked him, even as a child, he found himself thinking.
"Jamous Frankly, our newly appointed mayor (imagine that), has issued a hold on all existing Pulse Stones. Apparently there has been a steady decline in the mining efforts since the riots, and even the Stones retrieved from the palace have proved to be insufficient. This puts a serious amount of pressure on my experiments. I'm hoping that I will be able to procure a few on the Black Market in time.'
"Day 130. Things are looking quite bleak. I am hitting a serious barrier with the blockade of Pulse Stones. Kaelyn has all but shut me out completely only emerging to inform me of her bitterness. I am trying not to dwell on it and am instead directing all my efforts at finding a solution to this problem that I created. So, I have retreated to the furthest corner of the house.
"Yes, that is right. We are now the proud owners of a house. The lack of Pulse Stones has led Mayor Frankly to recruit Professor Muriel as the head of new Department of Energy Manufacture and Distribution and he recommended me to overlook a large part of the project. A welcome opportunity, as it provides me with security and a home. I had hoped that Kaelyn would be pleased with the prospect, as it took any financial pressure off the family, but it was not to be so. Her resentment has become palpable, and she is increasingly unwilling to even acknowledge me.
"Day 205. The blockage is must more serious than I thought. Frankly has ordered the procurement of all remaining Pulse Stones in order to outfit the City with cables and clockwork to power it along. My only hope was to confide in Onyx. She has been unaware of the existence of the Other One so far and has been quite reclusi
ve since the riot. I can't help but believe that even she didn't know the deep impact my predicament would eventually have on the city. But Kaelyn's reaction to Onyx when she answered my letter and visited was quite inhospitable, to put it mildly, and Onyx left, rather offended, before I had the chance to speak with her. But I doubt it mattered-- if Mayor Frankly himself is running out of Pulse Stones, then it would be absurd to imagine that she would be able to get a hold of some. She did express curiosity, however, as to why I wanted the Stones in the first place. I wonder if it would be a terrible idea to confide in her?"
"Day 538. I have found an unparalleled amount of comfort in being a man of science, for it allows me the brief moment in which I can put aside my emotions. I am not deluded enough to believe that the quantifiable, justifiable rules of science supersedes the far more irrational thought process of humans. But it certainly does lend itself to some sort of absolution. Lately, the only time I let human emotions enter my realm of functionality, strangely, is when I look at my sons. Both of them. I cannot exactly describe the feelings I have for them but I do suppose this is the love that fathers often have for their children. The knowledge that they are in this world solely because of me. The responsibility I feel to always do right by them. It is both a curse and a gift, I suppose."
Tom could barely understand what Felix had read out, but he did catch on to the last few sentences. Felix looked up and straight at Tom after he read this. Tom wished he could read the boy’s thoughts. He hoped that Felix didn’t pity him. That would be too much. To have his pity after all he had been through on his own.
"Go on," he urged, breaking the silence.
"Day 574. I have never been a religious man, but Twin Faced God, what have I done? I never thought that I could have influenced this world so fundamentally. The Mayor's office finally replied to my request for the Pulse Stones. It turned out that there really are none left. Even those in the Eyes which I believed to be my last saving grace. This is not good. Not good at all. I have to try and correct this now. Only, I am not quite sure how. No, that’s not true. I do know how. I just don’t want to think about it. It is unspeakable. It cannot even be written down. Oh, what have I done?"