by E. R. Jess
Dernen walked to the glass on Alessa's side and said, “I'm not the only one. The families, the older folks, they can't take it anymore. They don't want to be conformed, they don't want to starve in the wastes or die in an attack. You and Kagan and Eight tried, but you can't save them. Feel glad you got them this far.”
“No,” Alessa said as it hit her, “not that way. You can't let them.”
Meril said stoically, “Their lives are not yours. You are no longer a citizen, a UPC dictator. We control our own fates out here at the black edge.” And with that, Meril left.
Dernen was escorted away. He held his head up and accepted Alessa's scornful and betrayed looks. Instead, Alessa looked through him, worried about the people trapped there.
“I don't know what to do,” Eight said as the last warder left.
Alessa put her palms to the wall on Eight's side. She kicked with her feet and pressed her voice to the wall. “Eight,” she said, “I want you to delve. Find out everything you can. Anything. We need to get out of here.”
“Noble,” Eight said, “They were responsible. They stopped their own hearts.”
“Delve,” Alessa said.
Enemies in the River
Makz's implant stopped working. His eyes shot open as every cell in his body cried out. He hadn't been in serious pain since he was held in the pacifist's hotbox. His brain's natural ability to control pain died. His sense of touch was turned in on itself. All he could feel was incredible discomfort, needling and bruising sensations, and a massive weight on his chest. Makz clutched the side of his metal cage in the Ortus building.
“Problem there, cowboy?” Revan said as he lounged back in his own cell across from Makz's.
Makz glanced at the man. “The fuck are you?”
Revan laughed to himself. He answered, “I had no idea up until a few days ago. Now it doesn't even matter who I am. Now that you're here, you and your pacifists.”
“I feel a little worse than complete shit right now, so please forgive my utter hostility. Stop talking. Now,” Makz said.
Revan gave Makz a sideways look. “I know who you are,” Revan said, amused, “Do you?”
Makz extended his from his corner of his cell. “Makz Selder, walking corpse.”
Revan got up and walked toward his cell bars. “You got that right, I thought I had you killed. Ah well, blood under the bridge.”
Makz raised an eyebrow and mocked, “As I live and breathe, it's... oh, wait, I don't care.”
“Makz, I am, or was, The Elder. I was your employer for a time. Sorry about that trouble a few years back. You were a believer, and I had no room for believers in my plans.”
“The Elder?” Makz asked, unimpressed. “Just my luck.”
“It doesn't matter now, Makz,” Revan began. “And I don't say that out of spite, to diminish my role in what happened to you. I mean it doesn't matter because we are all reset to zero now. Mar gave me back all my memories. I was The Elder. I controlled the largest section of the Free City since the Urbanias were dissolved. I infiltrated UPC and worked my way up to be Minister of UCM, then I started to believe. A few bad weeks after that and I was brought here.”
“Head of UCM? You did a bang up job. Thanks for razing my home,” Makz said and spat.
“Mistakes were made.”
“Jesus, you're a piece of work,” Makz said incredulously.
“And I've been looking for you, not you, but your group. The hubris of your people, it's staggering. They're being humbled as we speak,” Revan voiced.
Makz sat up as best he could. “And what happens to you?”
“I'll be either shot or thrown into the ash.”
Makz gave a smirk and said, “Alright. All is well.”
Revan smirked back, “Revenge isn't a great currency, Makz. I'm sure you've found that by now. You got out alive when I ordered you killed and wasted that time, from what I can tell. But the problem with second chances is that your past could come back to haunt you.”
“And we're equals now,” Makz said.
“Looks like it.”
Makz nodded.
“I've found over at least two of my lifetimes that the universe is malleable. If we want something badly enough, it will manifest,” Revan stated.
“You were in power most of your life, of course you could get anything you wanted,” Makz said, “If you want to do us a favor, get us free so I can die somewhere more comfortable.”
“And if we could get out, what of us?”
“I don't know. I might want to help the pacifists. They're children. They're going to be killed one by one and they won't even understand why,” Makz said.
“I'm sure they know why,” Revan answered.
“Well I don't.”
Revan leaned against the bars of his prison. “I could help you.”
Makz looked up. “I'd make you help.”
Revan smiled. “I can't believe I didn't give you a promotion”
Makz sat himself up on his legs. “So we're at zero. It's a start.”
“Make no mistake, Makz, your friends are in danger. Mar offers a corrupted clarity, a twisting of the minds. He says that there are many choices, but only two are allowed. He will turn those pacifists into mindless warders, or he will convince the poor wretches to end their own lives,” Revan said grimly. “Only reason I got away was I found a third option. It won't keep me alive for long.”
“Into their minds? Sounds familiar,” Makz said.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that one of the pacifists can do the same thing. Can watch my memories like a movie,” Makz said as his eyes lit up. He added, “Elder, I think I need a few moments of quiet.”
Revan smiled and nodded. He took a seat on the floor and waited.
Makz sat against the wall and attempted the monumental task of clearing his mind.
Chapter 8: Sons of the Core
Colonel Morgan and his UA team had changed. They were still stoic and professional, but they had become more. Morgan stood in the new command center in the once-Free City. “Minister Elann, we are ready for duty,” he said, his voice hollow.
Elann eyed him briefly over her work. “I can see that,” she said dismissively.
Morgan turned his head down to her desk. “Our next assignment?”
Elann looked up and put her e-paper down. “Eager to get out there? Your mission briefing is being finished as we speak.”
“My team and I look forward to proving ourselves,” Colonel Morgan said.
“Colonel,” the Minister began, “you're not my personal guard. Just do the will of UCM. You may be stronger and faster than most of UA, but you're just soldiers.”
Morgan stood silent for a short while. He then took the e-paper document from her hand and said, “You are incorrect, Minister. We are now the embodiment of the will of UPC. After this action, we will impress upon you our passion for our calling. The Antikythera has given us a singularity of purpose.”
Elann sat back. She patiently said, “I understand, Colonel, I designed it. It doesn't simply wipe minds and heal flesh, it cleanses the spirit. In the old days after the Core, they had these soulless people milling about, they didn't have that spark. We evolved backwards. Now mind control is a gentle science, a careful meddling in the affairs of the brain. I designed the next step, the culling of our souls, souls culled and dissected into sets of actionable commands. No more grasping about in the dark for spirituality or hope. The Antikythera doesn't simply delete memories and seditious thought, it reinstates our potential. This new clarity you're feeling is not a gift, it's payment for your services. Now do your job.”
Morgan put the document down with care, then turned on his heels. He left the command center buildings and climbed into the back of a UA-X. His men sat still and glassy-eyed.
“Gentlemen, new orders are pending. Let us praise the wisdom of UPC. For all its good works,” Morgan stated.
“May the City-State ever rise,” replied his team.
&n
bsp; “For all its good works,” added Jakob Spenning, Revan's colleague.
Morgan pulled himself from the vehicle and stood over Jakob like a tower. “What can we help you with, controller?” he asked, his voice booming.
Jakob stood firm. “Your orders,” he said, handing Morgan a data card, “Black level.”
Morgan tossed the card to Sergeant Dien. Morgan looked at the horizon and said, “You were once a member of Revan Kore's office. Now you deliver orders. His fall from grace did not bode well for you. Harboring any resentment?”
Jakob looked at his handheld absentmindedly for a moment before answering. He walked up closer to Morgan and tried to get to his eye level. “Colonel, last time I checked, which was just now, I am your superior.”
“It may be no small irony that Elann had you deliver these orders. I imagine that she saw a kind of justice in it. We are to retrieve Revan Kore from the wasteland. We will soon find out where your loyalties lie,” Morgan said.
Jakob didn't blink. “You may want to read the rest of those orders. You'll also be sent to capture the pacifist who tore you up. All of us have our failures. We can't all be perfect.”
“First Sergeant,” Morgan barked to the air, “Let's make the ground shake.” He hopped onto the back of their UA-X as it rode off.
Elann watched the newly conformed UA team drive away from a window in her her command center office. She looked in the direction they headed, culling the distance into her thoughts.
13 Years prior
The Prime Minister and the majority of the cabinet stood in the Imperium. Elann was bruised and limping, led into the chamber by two LCS. Aloca, the Whistleblower, was suspended in an anti-gravity field before the cabinet.
“Sub-Minister,” the Prime Minister began in a failing, yet deep voice, “you have assaulted a City-State official. You have worked to sabotage Urban Population Control. You have plotted to hurt its people.”
Elann reeled as flashes of memory began jumping up before her eyes beyond her control. Mar had tampered with her mind for months at Aloca's command.
The Prime Minister continued, saying, “And the sentence is exile. Mind cleansing and exile.”
Elann's eyes grew wide. She shot a dagger stare at the Prime Minister, then pulled it back in haste. She cursed at herself for losing control, then turned her hatred to Aloca.
Aloca put her chin up. She said, “Prime Minister, I would suggest that you conform or kill me. I would be a risk to the City-State in any other condition.”
Elann sighed at Aloca's false patriotism. Elann knew that Aloca simply did not wish to live in the wasteland.
The Prime Minister nodded and said, “Urban Population Control thanks you for your candor. But it must be exile. You were not simply a traitor. You carried out the will of the City-State expertly, even through your treason. The recording of the Core, the watershed moment that led to the purge, it was a falsification. An artificial rendering. There was no Core. Urban Population Control would never be so careless. Your actions let us perform the purge.”
Elann shook her head and her voice formed words on its own, “What are you saying?”
Members of the cabinet balked at Elann's interruption, and whispered amongst themselves. The Prime Minister calmed them and answered, “You have gone through a great trial, Elann, and you have persevered. Sub-Minister Aloca will be exiled and her associate, this Delver, will be found. Your Antikythera work will continue. Go now, and know that the City-State has done good works.”
Elann looked at the Prime Minister in disbelief, then at Aloca, whose face was still and emotionless. Elann nodded and hid her feelings. She left the chamber.
Back of Your Mind
Alessa lay suspended in a large sensory deprivation tank. A tube was surgically implanted in her throat, it fed her air. Her mouth and nose were sealed shut with bands of rubber. The lukewarm fluid was denser than water, and when she tried to move, the fluid congealed and slowed her progress. Anti-gravity paneling on the chamber's walls kept her centered in the tank. Her limbs were numb, incorrectly reacting to her attempts at movement. After nearly a day contained in that manner, she wasn't sure if she was still in her own body.
Mar's voice reverberated though the fluid in a deep dulcet tone, “We're going to begin with a simple recalling.”
Alessa's eyes opened beneath the blindfold. She strained in the dark, seeing the vague outline of a person, a figure akin to the corona of an eclipse. She tried to cry out.
“It's easier than you think, letting go. Letting failure become a choice. Pride and ego will batter at your mind, but don't listen to that nonsense. Alessa, I'm going to share something with you, a simple test, but a rewarding one. This will hurt at first.” And with that, Mar delved deeper into her mind.
Alessa shook and trembled as tendrils of thought began working their way into her brain. Ideas, shapes and colors meandered through her consciousness. Some manifested as recollections, like half-forgotten dreams, and others flashed pictures in front of her eyes like a silent film. Alessa reeled back and felt amazed and terrified, her breath taken away in one great gasp.
Mar recorded his thoughts and fed the words to her mentally, “This is the cynosure, this sensation you're feeling. It's the priming force of delving. You've been here, in miniature, in a shade of it. Your friend Eight, this is as far as he can go, as far as he can take you. There is much more.”
And with a loud crack, Alessa's mind was shunted to a massive canyon. A vast plain constructed of thoughts and sounds. It was like seeing a thousand movies at once, like meeting a thousand people at once. Alessa let out a muffled shout.
“This place, this place is quite different. This is Meridian. It's a world I made for people just like you. This place will help you choose,” Mar's voice echoed into her brain.
Alessa looked down to her hands. She was in her own body, or a representation of it. She tried her voice to see if it worked. It did not. Instead, a puff of smoke replaced her words and she hit the ground in agony.
Mar grabbed her arm. “No, you will remain still,” he said angrily.
Alessa tried to break free and run. Since she wasn't really in her body, her efforts failed and left her racing away only in thought.
Mar tightened his grip. “Alessa, we are here to fix the mess. UPC made sport of your mind's structure. They distorted it and it will be a long and painful process to set it right. The person you are now is a sad semblance of the one I knew.” Mar brought Alessa to a precipice and continued, “Meridian will help us find what was taken. You were Sub-Minister Aloca, you were a whistleblower. And to silence you, UPC turned you into this: a weak woman who cringes at her own shadow. They cleansed your mind and threw you back into the wild.”
Alessa thought back. She remembered her family living in the Free City and remembered she was taken from them and conformed. She remembered her sessions with Eight, who tried to get her to recall her life under UPC's rule.
Mar watched the memories with her. “Eight knows. He can't read your memories well, but the real you is still there. You were in charge of conforming in the high echelons of UPC society. You planned the purge of the Free City. You nearly perfected mind control. The citizens of the City-State now benefit from the policies you enacted. I imagine that Eight didn't think you could handle that information,” Mar said gravely as he forced a memory to the surface of Alessa's thoughts.
It was of Aloca and Mar standing in a population control camp. Rusters were being brainwashed in row after row of machines embedded in chairs. Aloca turned to Mar and said, “We will revolutionize conformity. The City-State will be forever changed, and the only thing in our way is lack of imagination.”
Mar took her back to Meridian. He said, “You were Sub-Minister for a decade before your conscience boiled up. In that time, we, you and I, redesigned conformity technology. We made it faster and more efficient. Instead of altering a person's choices, we altered their past so they could make the choices we wanted. There was little d
issent.” Mar took her to a memory of the purge. She was overseeing the dismantling of the wasteland. Truckloads of the non-conformed were shipped to the City-State. In the memory, Mar was delving a man from the wasteland. He said to Alessa as they watched, “You used my abilities to reprogram people. I wasn't enough, I couldn't do it alone, so we designed a new conformity technology and drug treatment regimen. It's still in use today. UPC wouldn't be what it is without your efforts.”
Alessa tried to avert her eyes, tried to ignore what she saw. She assumed it was fake, a trick. Alessa managed to get her legs working and she ran away from the memory, ducking down an alley that grew darker and darker.
Mar's voice followed her, “Your first instinct. You never used to run. Even when you betrayed UPC, you stood your ground. That's what I admired about you. You never ran.”
Alessa reached a dark wall, a blank spot in the air. The empty space soon opened up into a flat gray room. She remembered the place. It was the Blank Room, the place she was conformed.
“Good room for good little girls,” the memory of Aloca said to a young girl cowering in the room.
Alessa gasped and covered her mouth.
“The Blank Room you created was a devious trap. A forced meditation. You cleared people's minds and left them with the Blank Room. Even if they did break through the conformity, all they would be able to recall would be these four gray walls,” Mar said unemotionally, “I had to admit, at the time, that it was farther than I wanted to go. You enjoyed it, the control, the directive to destroy memories.”
Alessa managed to say a word, as she was acclimatising to the memory environment of Meridian. She simply said, “No.”
“Yes, Alessa. But now, all this is nearly gone. These are my memories. In order to get to the hidden paths, the parts of your life bleached away, we'll need a far more invasive technique,” Mar said as he brought her back to the Meridian precipice. “When you turned traitor, UPC tore your mind to shreds. They wiped your memories nearly clean, implanted new ones, and UPC exiled you.”