An Unreasonable Parodox (chapter 1)
An Unreasonable Paradox
( By Jim Burnell )
When Trace had awakened he was not in his bed. He was not in his house. He was not surrounded by any familiar sights or sounds, but instead he found himself in some kind of domed chamber laying in a web at its center. He lifted his self awkwardly out of the web stumbling on his feet and stood looking about in confusion. The chamber was octagonal in shape, equal sided, and symmetrical. The walls were about 20 feet apart, but for some reason he couldn’t judge their height. At some point the walls crossed over towards each other and met in the center forming a oval ceiling. There were four arched openings between the walls with no doors or gates attached to them.
“My God, where am I, Why am I here and how….?.” he stopped. “And where is here, this place?” His throat was dry and parched. He felt that strange feeling that he would get sometimes when something unexplained would happen while doing something he had done a thousand times before, had had a different outcome, which would always stop once he could figure out the reason for it….. But this time it wouldn’t stop. There was no reason for it! He was standing there on the ground firmly, but his mind was falling. His head was spinning inside. Nothing was making sense. Several minutes went by, yet time had ceased, till finally he realized that he wasn’t going to make any sense out of this. Something inside of him was fighting to bring him back, clearing the cloud from his head. He tried to stand straight but his legs were weak. Fear embraced him…. touching him unrestrained, stripping the courage from his soul, fear, was the best his mind could fathom for sustenance. His body quivered again and again. His limbs were cold. His veins carried no blood. He was invisible….. he felt invisible. Time past, or seemed to…….and then voices, was it his parents?…..Spirits? Were they whispering something? Or was it someone else? In the distance a bell was ringing. A bell like from an old church, ringing louder and louder, bringing him back to life. It echoed each time. It was real. It was a real sound, not like the voices, “their not real….the voices,” he thought. Their not real. He opened his eyes. He hadn’t known they were closed. The bell was still echoing in the distance. Its sound growing farther and farther away. Trace felt a little better now, although he hadn’t come to any conclusions. He was still in the chamber. He walked to one of the arches and notice that their was writing etched above the opening in several languages, one of which he understood.. “ This is the maze of unreason ,” it read,
“In treacherous halls of treasonable usage,
In sensible sails of unseasonable fusions,
Thru infinite ether of limited spaces,
Thru truths untraceable, judgment incapable,
Imagined illusions of reasonable reason,
The beginnings the ending, the end the beginning.”
“What?” he wondered. His breathing was slow and relaxed. He had regained control. He stood there reading it several times, wondering. He stepped thru the arched opening and turned to the left into a circular hallway which ran parallel to the circumference of the chamber, passing another hallway which was perpendicular to the hall and continued parallel till he reached another arch to the left leading back into the same chamber. He was starting to get a mental picture of what this might be.
“But then how could a slave have a clear mental picture,” he thought.
“ Ha, I am in a dream world!” He exclaimed out loud. “High above the Master’s control! And this strange new feeling….. mire illusion….all a temporal dream. ” He ran his hand about the walls as a blind man would, feeling the cool surface of stone.
“But while in a dream, does one think he is in a dream?” he reasoned. “ If this is not a dream, then where is my past, I can not simply be Trace the slave……have I escaped the Master, or is this a trick, and I just play the part of fool for his amusement.”
Trace looked above through the clear glass dome toward the sky. “Ah Master, now I see you there, your servant Trace would not be such a fool as you might believe. to fall for such trickery. I see you there behind the clouds and what is it that you wish? More foolishness?….Trace has always been a faithful fool…. Is it blood?……Give me my knife……I shall kill my brother. Is it labor? You shall get your labor, put me back in the caves and you shall get your labor. Bind my ankles… show me the whip, and I will find more labor in these weary bones. …But only forcefully at your command will I do these things. And waste more of this precious air on your behalf.” He held his fists to the sky, shaking them violently, “ You bastards, where are you?” he screamed. “ Show your selves so I can again be the beggar……Master?” he waited for the pain, which would always follow such an outburst, but nothing.
“Look Master, I wear your collar” and he fastened an imaginary collar around his neck prancing about mockingly in a circle around the room as if attached to a tethered rope.” Still nothing, no retribution, no punishment, no pain and more important than all these things, no mental slumber or witlessness which was always part of the punishment but instead a clearness of mind, an awareness of self. The master was gone! He….. Trace, had blasphemed the Masters in thought and with spoken word without harm and he floundered like a deaf mute, when suddenly given hearing and voice, not knowing whether to speak or listen first. He was truly free and he felt his veins enlarge as he pumped his arms and squeezed his knuckles, shedding any last traces of invisible shackles.
He wasn’t young anymore. He couldn’t swing a blade Or a hammer like he had once. He could not be considered old, but the younger men no longer held him in awe although his skills still carried esteem. In all his life he had been nothing more than a slave, a menial laborer but even so, if a slave survived to his age he could attain skills, and yes even knowledge, provided he kept the evidence of that knowledge from being discovered by the Masters, for knowledge was a privilege of the Masters , controlled exclusively through their insidious circumvention not outwardly evident to the masses. Their powers were great and they could blur the eyes of men and twist the ears to accept only their geometric desires. In fact most slaves believed the contrary, that knowledge and discovery where permitted and even encouraged by the Masters and on the surface this appeared to be the truth. And a slave could be kept happily benign if he truly believed he was not being denied these rights which were all along unattainable.
“Ah, what a wonderful feeling this is.” he mused. “To escape the Masters grasp and see what he sees …..this truth of freedom….this truth of truths.” He wished now for just one of the messiahs books, which he had chanced upon one day in his youth, while working near a Masters guarded palace. When no one was looking he had crept up to a barred window and looked inside where he saw beautiful paintings, suspended by huge columns and capitols protected by a special glass like nothing he had ever seen. And in the middle of a magnificently carved mantle, was not a fireplace as you would think, but a row of ancient books with golden pages, all encased behind impregnable vaulted doors. He ran back to where he had been working not daring to stay any longer, for fear of being caught, and later he remembered telling a friend he had seen the messiahs books.
Trace was enchanted just to be able to recall such an old memory. As a slave such a memory would be kept suppressed through the darkness of the Masters filters, but Trace somehow breached their defenses and found this freedom and he cherished each moment more and more.
“”Ah, but here I speak of truth and freedom” he scolded his-self “but I don’t even know where I am. How can such a thing be? I would be wise to fear for trickery, this is no ordinary place, it is I who am ordinary. To believe such things could be fatal!”
Trace again looked through the dome towards the sky and whispered, “Ah Master, did I see you winking there? Your manipulation is so great I almost believed this magic. But a slave cannot free himself. Old slaves simply disappear. They are here one day and then they are gone. What chance have I. Is this the place where old slaves disappear? This maze of unreason? Tell me Masters, will you remember me, Trace the slave who laid so many stones for your feet to grace? I spit on them now!” He spat on the ground and laughed. “Ha, I will never bow to you again you pieces of shit, you maggots from hell, I have seen you, or have you forgotten, I have seen you bathing in your shame, squealing like pigs in bloody linens.”
They will come now he thought. He pulled from his pocket a glass vile and shook it, then holding it in front of his face he unscrewed the lid and breathed the air surrounding it. He knew he must be careful now, …..very careful. He waited…He thought of his friend Kye…and the others…..and he waited. He put the vile away carefully in its container. “It will be soon .” he whispered, “ Be strong” They may reveal themselves or they may try and blind me. He thought. Or they will wait till I am weak. Or perhaps they will allow me to capture myself. He breathed deeply. I will wait and test their strength and maybe I will escape this place.
Trace knelt on the floor of the chamber praying for strength, As he prayed he looked about this chamber maze.. Along the arch of the dome were sculptures of beautiful bodies most of which he did not recognize, but one was of the Eilexiuos and he thought it odd he had not noticed it till now.
“Careful Trace, he told himself.”
The stone from which it was made contained the blessing of the messiah, and was forever in movement, subtly changing shape. The Eilexious had been like a goddess to all slaves helping many to stay alive when they had lost all hope. He watched her slow, delicate, movements. She appeared to be bathing. The stone even formed the shape of moving water drops trickling down her naked form. He had dreamt of her many nights while he was in slavery, and many of the other slaves could not go more than a mornings work without referencing her name. Her face had been turning towards him as he stood there and her arms extended out to him, beckoning as if she could see him, which could not be so, she was only manufactured living nano stone, but she did not turn away and her lips called to him. It looked like she was saying Trace but their was no sound,, just her lips moving. He felt a momentary indiscernible shroud enveloping his mind. “It’s the Master, he is near,” thought Trace. Suddenly he saw a shadow fall across the dome, throwing the chamber into partial darkness and then tiny particles of light began shooting down though the ceiling, increasing exponentially bouncing in multiple directions till the chamber was infused with light. Trace raised his head and held out his arms skyward, “Hear I am you dirty beasts of stench, you Masters of nothingness, take my flesh if you will!” He yelled in rebellion, but the light passed right through him. He had not contained any of it. He had no reflection, no absorption and as fast as the light had came it diminished out through the arches. Trace knelt in awe, looking at his arms and body. “And what is this?” He spoke aloud. “Am I not still flesh and bone?” His eyes glared in defiance. “How can the light pass through me yet I am visible….how can this be?” He clenched his jaws together barring his teeth. “I have no claws for battle, Can the wolves not see a rabbit in the snow?” He lowered his voice, “If so, then why do they chase their tails like lost dogs?” Trace took measured steps around the chamber trying to remember more of his past. He felt as though he had grown six inches in six minutes, but the maze he could see had not gotten smaller.
The master had come and gone without finding him. For the first time ever he escaped the light of the Master, and he didn’t know why. He struggled to remember another time like this, but he couldn’t beside brief moments lasting mere seconds, but then had he ever tried to escape at all?….and if he had never tried, then why now? His mind was filled with empty holes as he tried to place his questions in some kind of order, but try as he might they remained estranged and out of sequence, There seemed to be no way to analyze the situation.
He gently closed his eyes and spoke out loud “ Are these the halls of murder or madness?….What miss-shapen amusement am I…… You think these calloused hands too course to feel that one remaining string you pull or is it two? It seems I have no choice but to remain.”
He knew he had much to remember before moving forward, if he were to survive, and what good was freedom without direction, was there any such thing as freedom within a maze?…..and when will they come again, they are not done with me.
He threw himself up in the web shaped bedding from where he had awakened and stared again at the beautiful Eilexious above, but she no longer looked aware of anything but her pre-programmed existence. She lavished around in a watery pyre of sensuous extreme.
Trace was unaware of the reality of what was really happening, subtly deep inside the new cells being reproduced in his body. The metamorphosis occurring from a non living mutated virus, growing in a cancerous chain-reaction, cutting and splicing new genetic sequences in his DNA. He sat quietly near the center of the chamber wondering what he should do next.
Trace had been a slave for as long as he could remember, but he didn’t know if he could trust his memory, it seemed to have blank spaces and dark voids where missing years could hide. He had come from a large city in the north which had been mostly abandoned at some earlier time and then re-established with the slave population. Before the slaves, it had been inhabited by the Democracy who were the ancestors of Traces family. The Democracy had once been the greatest rulers of the world and had discovered a system of control which surpassed all other governments. They had learned to control all other nations without claiming ownership which was there greatest historical achievement . The Democracy was still in power but had withdrawn into the southern regions as the ice invaded its stronghold. The secret of the Democracy was hard for most to understand and known to few, but consisted of the most simple of concepts. It was that truth as always remains the same, but expression of language and the value of the meaning of words were dilated and or diluted to suite the polarization of the leaderships views , ( which had originally been discovered by the church and worked into a form of art by later manipulators who with the increasing public dependency on computer networks found it very easy to create), there-fore the governors of the Democracy were in constant control over educational flux and entertainment value systems. In short, the Democracy possessed the ability to create something from nothing. The Masses were controlled as easily as sheep in a pasture, most of which were completely unaware of their complacency. The individual was dead although this was passionately denied. Of course there were many other methods they used to control the behavior of populations but none as magnificently simple as this. Another more obvious means of staying in power was standing upon the leading edge of technology always moving forward in disregard of obvious possible hazards. Most of this work had to be done in secrecy until societal memes caught up with the reality of evolutionary survival. But even the great Democracy was coerced to relocate it’s centers of power as nature divided and conquered the northern regions of the Americas and great sheaths of glacial ice forced there way down through the continents tearing apart all previously habitable forests and all evidence of civilization. As Trace remained laying upon the web in the chamber feeling safe from the masters, he reminisced over the city he had left behind and prayed for lost memories to return that might help him to find his way.
Trace had never seen the city when it was alive, and could only imagine what it must have been like in the days of the Democracy. Now only small segments could afford to be kept operational and everyday it took more fuel to run at the same efficiency. The fuel supply was adequate and the Masters might give them more or tell them where more could be found, as long as they could manage to produce. Trace was sure there must be large deposits of stored fuel nearby within several hundred miles but without the time or means for a thoughal search, and the limited manpower available, their was no sense in looking. They were forced to spend all their time in the mines, and what little extra time there was, was spent combating the cold. As evening came Trace went to the upper level of the mine to shut down the electrical panels which were not needed for the night operation. He looked to the west and saw the last glimpses of sunlight refracting from distant skeletal structures of the city. The light was broken and weak and cold. He turned back to the panel and threw the switch. The ground surface became gray and now he could see that the stars were already visible above, emitting dancing particles of foreign history. “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” someone yelled from behind him. “you want me to freeze out here?” Trace shined a light toward the voice. It was his friend Kye, followed by a large Siberian husky and her pup.
“Hey Kye, Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was still up here.” Replied Trace. “But if I would have known you were here, I wouldn’t have worried much about your safety.”
The pup ran over to Trace and nudged his leg refusing to stop until Trace reached down to give him a pet.
“If anyone can survive the darkness, of all the slaves, it would be you.” He continued.
“Ya, right Trace, One of these days your going to find out just how strong I am , and it’s probably gonna be when I’m holdin somthin up over your Head.” He grinned, and you could barley see a smile showing through his stringy iced laced beard. “Shine the light over here so I don’t have to introduce my ass to the ice.” He ordered, “I’m already sore as hell.”
“ Oh are you, Its not like you to admit it.” Trace shined the light on the dirty ice as Kye walked towards him. Trace had always been amazed at the strength and stamina Kye had always shown when ever they worked together. In fact Kye made any physical labor look easy, and many of the other slaves had showed they felt the same way, always giving him a wide girth when he was near.
“Why are you still up top?” asked Trace as Kye reached him.
“ I was watching for the Caribou,” he replied, “I just know there’s got to be some left.” His face was worn from time, especially now, in the gray hours of sunset . The scars above his brow seemed deeper, more penetrating. Charcoal smears half covered the bottoms of his eyelids and the hair from his untrimmed mustache grew into his mouth.
“Beside, this here pup needs to get a walk on the surface, it’s not good for em to stay down in that shaft all the time. Come here pup.” He called.
The pup looked at Trace as if for permission and then wagged back over to Kye.
“Ya, I hope your right, about the caribou, Woudn’t that be a site, eh?” Trace couldn’t say what he thought, he too wanted to see the caribou, but he guessed they were probably gone and even if there were any left they would have past here by now. Kye knew it too but he just couldn’t admit it. The cold was invading fast, as the suns defenses retreated in the west. The lights around the boundary of the mine exposed the steady clouds of exhaust from below. Kye grabbed the light and started towards the entrance.
“Let’s go see what they left us to eat.” He said, leading the way. The ice crunched underfoot as Trace followed Kye to one of the smaller elevator cages suspended evenly at the mouth of the shaft. Sounds from running motors rhythmically hummed while pumps drew air from the surface down to the living quarters. When they reached the first level the elevator stopped, and they walked down a corridor past the video monitor room. The door was open, and Trace looked in. There were screens stacked on metal shelves and monitoring switch devises in neat arrays. A young , tough looking man sat at a chair facing the equipment. He was tapping his boot against the side of the table.
“Everything all right?” asked Trace. It was Pauli, he was twenty years younger than Trace.
“ The usual, all the equipment functional, but the exterior antennae needs some work or something, getting some static. It must be ice damage.” Trace trusted Pauli, and knew he was competent. He seemed to be possessed by some inner spirit or quality not to be found in many a slave. He could function without being told what to do and had a competitive nature. “I’ll ah, check it out tomorrow, We wouldn’t want to miss a signal from the er Masters.” He turned back towards the screens.
“ You eat yet?”
“Ya, don’t ask.”
Trace turned back down the hall and walked to the mess room. Kye was already at a table cutting on some kind of meat. Trace grabbed a preheated plate from under a heat lamp and slid it across the table from Kye.
“I guess I’m not quite as tired as I thought I was. I can’t work hard enough to make this shit taste good.” complained Kye. But he kept on eating.
“Ah, but the Masters give us their best.” Trace pleaded. (But Trace had had moments when he doubted if the food was real. It had none or little taste. But he could not deny the truth of the masters.) He swallowed a bite of the same meat.
“ Yes, of course, the Masters give us their best.” Agreed Kye. He cut a piece and put it down by the pup, under the table, who sniffed it and turned away. “Seems the influence of the Master’s don’t go over so well with the pup.
“Ah, well maybe the pup got a sniff off that caribou you were looking for. If that’s the case I can see how he wouldn’t be interested in that meat. Maybe that’s what he’s dreaming about now.” Said Trace. The pup was already sprawled out comfortably on the floor, half asleep, his chest slowly rising up and down. The momma husky was laying by the coal burner casually watching. “We didn’t do so well today so I hear.” Trace sighed, “They won’t be pleased.” Kye looked around the room to see if anyone was listening. There were a couple of young kids at another table playing some game. They looked to be in their late teens and seemed intent on the dice.
“ It’s getting worse ever day,” Kye frowned. “ were getting the tonnage but after processing there’s less and less of the good stuff.” He looked down at his hands.
“I know but we should keep quiet about it for now,” said Trace, “It might get better again, and no sense in giving knives to the children,” Trace pointed his finger towards the youths. “ it’s hard enough already for them. They don’t need to be thinking about a personal visit from the Master’s, they’ll find out soon enough if the production doesn’t go up.”
Just then a dice rolled across the floor and stopped by Kyes boot.
“ Hey, Kye, what’s the number showing on that dice?” asked one of the young slavers.
“Doesn’t matter.” Said the other, “It’s not a clean roll”
“Looks perfectly clean to me” exclaimed the first, smiling, as he covered the other dice remaining on the table.
“What do you mean.” Exclaimed the first. “You can’t use a dice that’s rolled off the table.” His eyes widening.
“It’s a simple six.” Said Kye. As he kicked it back towards the youths.
“Kye, you think that is a fair roll?” asked the second youth grinning. Everyone called him Thread.
“ Hey, it’s not my game. I was just sayin the number on the dice.”
Thread looked across the table towards his friend. “Go ahead, use it, it’s not gonna help you anyway.” He paused, “Besides, Eilexious knows you need any extra bit of help you can get.” He grinned. “Or has Eilexious left you for her little sister?”
Kye laughed.
The first youth, named Rand, was not accustom to Thread verbally defending himself. He squirmed in his seat, not wanting to appear weak in front of Kye and Trace.
“You’d be the one to know about little sisters, you muck miner.” He picked up the dice and placed the little six next to the other dice.
“That’s 226, right em down.’ He declared decisively, clenching his teeth.
Thread scribbled the number at the bottom of a list and was examining the results. He looked up with a glare in his eyes, and threw the pencil at Rand.
“Alright, pass me the dice, you cheat.” He chuckled. “Your gonna get yours anyway.”
The two youths were best of friends. Not just because they worked side by side everyday. It was more than that. They each had found something in the other which they had lacked in them selves. They were brothers by choice, not by blood, but they would stand by each other blood or no blood.
Thread rolled the dice and started counting out loud and the game of dice continued again without further incident. They seemed to quiet down occasionally whispering to each other. Most of the other slavers were already in quarters having eaten hours before. A few strolled by the open door in the hall. One youth came in and spoke with the two dice players. They traded some secret or other and then he left.
Up on the surface a storm crept towards them, frozen northern currents swirling off newly forming glaciers , infantry soldiers of the unconquerable coming hordes of ice, sub-zero temperatures equalizing every last trace of energy. A prelude to the inevitable events ahead. Cold crept down the mine shaft, encroaching previously limited barriers downward still, while motors automatically advanced in opposition.
Kye was still at the table, elbows down, his head was resting in his hands. His right hand revealing a dried over cut from earlier in the day. His hands were never healed. Trace, who had been warming by the coal burner, walked over and sat next to him.
“Hey, …. It’s getting colder in here.” Said Trace. “And something’s wrong with these lights. Have you noticed how they keep flickering. Blessed Messiah , we don’t need any more trouble down here. We need to check with Pauli.”
“Kye …..you awake?” he repeated. Kye raised his head drowsily.
“Huh, ya.” He squinted his eyes. “ Dam it all.” He picked up his skinnin knife which he had left on the table and looked at the blade. “Ah…. You said Pauli, ah…he’s all right.” He carved off a piece of fingernail and flicked it. “Ya, it is getting colder.” He stared again at the knife blade, running his calloused thumb along it end.
“Hey Kye, we gotta figure out what were gonna do, you know, …if we run out of the good stuff. We won’t have nothing left to trade.” Trace felt tense. His shoulders felt as if heavy iron weights were suspended from them. “We’re going to have to face the facts sooner or later.” His throat was tight.The lights continued to flicker and Kye scratched the knife blade into the table.
“I used to keep this so sharp I could shave with it.” Said Kye. He seemed off in the past, lost some where in time. Then, refocusing , “ So…….. what do you want from me?”
“I want you to wake up!…..Haven’t you felt it?…..Down in the cavern. When were around that….. stuff.” Trace couldn’t explain it. Something inside him was fighting him….holding back the words he knew were there. “Haven’t you wondered what this stuff is?” He reached into his upper vest pocket and pulled out a small glass vile containing a powdery silver substance. He shook the vile and unscrewed the lid, releasing a strong odor and held it out in front of Kye. His hand was shaking.
Kye sniffed and pushed the vile away. “What are you doing with that?” He groaned in disbelief. Trace pushed the vile at him again.
“Smell it, go on……” insisted Trace. He held the vile again in front of Kye, and Kye locked onto the hand, holding it under his nose. He breathed it and almost immediately pushed it back at Trace. “Enough!” He felt confused. Dizzy. He was there in the room with Trace, but he was also in another place. He saw the Masters in their long white robes..At least at first they looked like the Masters, but something was wrong,….They looked different…..He could hear them…..there droning, dull voices….their faces, hideous, ugly faces….pure evil…. “I see it…..I see it…I can see them Trace.” Then suddenly one of the Masters turned towards him, and then a second one who smiled at him while the first opened his mouth. Out of his mouth spewed vile words. They came forth like vomit at him, all at once, hundreds of vile, disgusting, abysmal words. They squealed like pigs. All the Masters turned and squealed.
“Trace?”……..He was falling…Trace!….” he called, “Do it Kye… Face it” yelled Trace…. “On the backs of children,” Kye moaned … “Stop you bastards, you cowards!” Kye convulsed several times and then started vomiting violently. The pup jumped up from under the table and ran to his momma, snuggling against her. The whole incident lasted but mire seconds.
Thread and Rand had stopped playing dice and were looking in their direction, but quickly turned away as Trace looked up. They couldn’t have heard anything, but they must have seen Kye pukeing.
Trace looked over at the two young slavers and said, “No wonder the pup wouldn’t eat that meat, ug …mustav’e been some really bad stuff. ”
“Glad I didn’t get that plate Kye.” Winced Thread. He kept his head down.
“You all right Kye” asked Trace. He grabbed a towel and cleaned up the mess, then carried it to the coal burner and threw it in. It vaporized instantaneously.
“What’s one less towel?”
“Ya, I’m alright…sorry, I don’t know what happened their. I just …. You know..I just felt sick.” He answered. “ I guess from now on I’ll put more trust in the pup.”
“Ya, I do know. I do know Kye, and now you know too.” Replied Trace. “ And your right about that pup. I think we ought to give him a name. Here pup.” Called Trace. The pup looked up but ran over to Kye.
“ Good pup” Kye reached down and scratched the pup, and the pup pulled playfully at his sleeve, growling.
Just then the two youths got up, “Hey you guys, were going to turn in.” said Thread. “See you tomorrow.” Rand was already out the door.
Trace replied, “Hey, would you mind telling Pauli about the lights flickering in here before you head down?” Thread mumbled something unintelligible.
“ No I don’t mind, is that guy a loner or what?” Trace didn’t answer and Thread left the room.
He and Kye were alone now.
“Well, what do you think this stuff is? He pulled the vile out again and held it up to the light. The Master’s want this stuff real bad.” He glared at the vile. It somehow gave him a sense of power. “Come on, don’t try and tell me you didn’t feel that, before you started puking all over.” He started to pass the vile to Kye when Kye pushed it away.
“Oh no, I’ve seen enough of that tonight.” He frowned. “I don’t think I want to know.”
“ Come on, you have to help me figure this out or were going to die here. You know I’m right.” Said Trace. “I’ve never asked you for help before, but now I’m asking.”
“Help…your asking for help….What you think you know me?.” Said Kye, “ Well you don’t. You don’t know some of the things Iv’e done. Or where I come from. I’m not the kind that can be counted on.” He groaned
“Oh, I know you. I know you, cause were both the same….and I know that like me, youv’e done terrible things to survive, but like me, I know what’s in your heart, and that’s what counts. I don’t care what you’ve done…..Where youv’e been.” He clenched his fists. “You don’t think I’ve been in those kinds of places? I’m just better at hiding it than you…..I’m ashamed so I hide it. But where do you think we are now. This is going to be one of those kinds of places. What do you think…..You think the Master’s are going to find a place for US!….. When this place is nothing more than a hole in the ground. When there’s nothing left.” Trace stopped in mid sentence.
Kye closed and opened the knife. It was a beautiful knife. “I don’t know what to tell you.” He sighed.
“ Then here, take this thing” he forced the vile into Kye’s hand. “I think you need to take another look at this stuff, and then tell me your not going to help!”
Trace got up from the table. “I’m tired.” He said. He walked toward the door feeling defeated. At the door he turned to Kye and said.
“When were done tomorrow I think I’ll go top side and watch for those Caribou, …You gonna be up there?”
“I don’t know, maybe…. wouldn’t that be a site.”
Slaves of the old Democracy had once been called citizens before the Great Upheaval when technological innovations had peaked with the development of stem cells, artificial intelligence and nano-technology. Most of the experimentation had been done by what was known as the Department of Defense before the Great Upheaval during a period of terrorist filter implants. Filter implants were a technique used by the politicians and those representatives of the citizens who believed that the masses were incapable of understanding the necessities and complexities required for continued world domination by the democracy. Filter implants had become an important tool in controlling the minds of populations and their economies. It was based upon a simple magicians trick of misdirection in combination with truth falsification techniques and certain key ideas around which nations were formed. Thru over redundancy, repetition and the enforcement of certain beliefs, the Democracy completely controlled its citizenry . In truth they were not a Democracy at all but had become a monopoly. In these days some of the citizens thought they were still in control while most didn’t really care as long as they were kept entertained and well fed but with the fast developing tech in nano-biology and molecular science certain break-throughs were made in the creation of man-made viruses. It was discovered that certain man made viruses when released in the right conditions could subtly control higher brain functions in humans similar to chemicals but with long lasting and even permanent effects. As further experimentation continued many different designer molecules were made in an attempt at creating different viruses for different control situations. Then with nano assemblers and replicators it became easy to mass produce these viruses using mostly common elements for the bulk of the molecule but generally small quantities of rare elements and some organic living organisms. These viruses when released within the subjects created new DNA and RNA sequences in the living cells tissues. When applied in the proper dosages absolute population control could be obtained without suspect or evidence. As the government continued its experimentation in certain control groups it began to realize how powerful these new filter implant were and began to realize that…….
( By Jim Burnell )
When Trace had awakened he was not in his bed. He was not in his house. He was not surrounded by any familiar sights or sounds, but instead he found himself in some kind of domed chamber laying in a web at its center. He lifted his self awkwardly out of the web stumbling on his feet and stood looking about in confusion. The chamber was octagonal in shape, equal sided, and symmetrical. The walls were about 20 feet apart, but for some reason he couldn’t judge their height. At some point the walls crossed over towards each other and met in the center forming a oval ceiling. There were four arched openings between the walls with no doors or gates attached to them.
“My God, where am I, Why am I here and how….?.” he stopped. “And where is here, this place?” His throat was dry and parched. He felt that strange feeling that he would get sometimes when something unexplained would happen while doing something he had done a thousand times before, had had a different outcome, which would always stop once he could figure out the reason for it….. But this time it wouldn’t stop. There was no reason for it! He was standing there on the ground firmly, but his mind was falling. His head was spinning inside. Nothing was making sense. Several minutes went by, yet time had ceased, till finally he realized that he wasn’t going to make any sense out of this. Something inside of him was fighting to bring him back, clearing the cloud from his head. He tried to stand straight but his legs were weak. Fear embraced him…. touching him unrestrained, stripping the courage from his soul, fear, was the best his mind could fathom for sustenance. His body quivered again and again. His limbs were cold. His veins carried no blood. He was invisible….. he felt invisible. Time past, or seemed to…….and then voices, was it his parents?…..Spirits? Were they whispering something? Or was it someone else? In the distance a bell was ringing. A bell like from an old church, ringing louder and louder, bringing him back to life. It echoed each time. It was real. It was a real sound, not like the voices, “their not real….the voices,” he thought. Their not real. He opened his eyes. He hadn’t known they were closed. The bell was still echoing in the distance. Its sound growing farther and farther away. Trace felt a little better now, although he hadn’t come to any conclusions. He was still in the chamber. He walked to one of the arches and notice that their was writing etched above the opening in several languages, one of which he understood.. “ This is the maze of unreason ,” it read,
“In treacherous halls of treasonable usage,
In sensible sails of unseasonable fusions,
Thru infinite ether of limited spaces,
Thru truths untraceable, judgment incapable,
Imagined illusions of reasonable reason,
The beginnings the ending, the end the beginning.”
“What?” he wondered. His breathing was slow and relaxed. He had regained control. He stood there reading it several times, wondering. He stepped thru the arched opening and turned to the left into a circular hallway which ran parallel to the circumference of the chamber, passing another hallway which was perpendicular to the hall and continued parallel till he reached another arch to the left leading back into the same chamber. He was starting to get a mental picture of what this might be.
“But then how could a slave have a clear mental picture,” he thought.
“ Ha, I am in a dream world!” He exclaimed out loud. “High above the Master’s control! And this strange new feeling….. mire illusion….all a temporal dream. ” He ran his hand about the walls as a blind man would, feeling the cool surface of stone.
“But while in a dream, does one think he is in a dream?” he reasoned. “ If this is not a dream, then where is my past, I can not simply be Trace the slave……have I escaped the Master, or is this a trick, and I just play the part of fool for his amusement.”
Trace looked above through the clear glass dome toward the sky. “Ah Master, now I see you there, your servant Trace would not be such a fool as you might believe. to fall for such trickery. I see you there behind the clouds and what is it that you wish? More foolishness?….Trace has always been a faithful fool…. Is it blood?……Give me my knife……I shall kill my brother. Is it labor? You shall get your labor, put me back in the caves and you shall get your labor. Bind my ankles… show me the whip, and I will find more labor in these weary bones. …But only forcefully at your command will I do these things. And waste more of this precious air on your behalf.” He held his fists to the sky, shaking them violently, “ You bastards, where are you?” he screamed. “ Show your selves so I can again be the beggar……Master?” he waited for the pain, which would always follow such an outburst, but nothing.
“Look Master, I wear your collar” and he fastened an imaginary collar around his neck prancing about mockingly in a circle around the room as if attached to a tethered rope.” Still nothing, no retribution, no punishment, no pain and more important than all these things, no mental slumber or witlessness which was always part of the punishment but instead a clearness of mind, an awareness of self. The master was gone! He….. Trace, had blasphemed the Masters in thought and with spoken word without harm and he floundered like a deaf mute, when suddenly given hearing and voice, not knowing whether to speak or listen first. He was truly free and he felt his veins enlarge as he pumped his arms and squeezed his knuckles, shedding any last traces of invisible shackles.
He wasn’t young anymore. He couldn’t swing a blade Or a hammer like he had once. He could not be considered old, but the younger men no longer held him in awe although his skills still carried esteem. In all his life he had been nothing more than a slave, a menial laborer but even so, if a slave survived to his age he could attain skills, and yes even knowledge, provided he kept the evidence of that knowledge from being discovered by the Masters, for knowledge was a privilege of the Masters , controlled exclusively through their insidious circumvention not outwardly evident to the masses. Their powers were great and they could blur the eyes of men and twist the ears to accept only their geometric desires. In fact most slaves believed the contrary, that knowledge and discovery where permitted and even encouraged by the Masters and on the surface this appeared to be the truth. And a slave could be kept happily benign if he truly believed he was not being denied these rights which were all along unattainable.
“Ah, what a wonderful feeling this is.” he mused. “To escape the Masters grasp and see what he sees …..this truth of freedom….this truth of truths.” He wished now for just one of the messiahs books, which he had chanced upon one day in his youth, while working near a Masters guarded palace. When no one was looking he had crept up to a barred window and looked inside where he saw beautiful paintings, suspended by huge columns and capitols protected by a special glass like nothing he had ever seen. And in the middle of a magnificently carved mantle, was not a fireplace as you would think, but a row of ancient books with golden pages, all encased behind impregnable vaulted doors. He ran back to where he had been working not daring to stay any longer, for fear of being caught, and later he remembered telling a friend he had seen the messiahs books.
Trace was enchanted just to be able to recall such an old memory. As a slave such a memory would be kept suppressed through the darkness of the Masters filters, but Trace somehow breached their defenses and found this freedom and he cherished each moment more and more.
“”Ah, but here I speak of truth and freedom” he scolded his-self “but I don’t even know where I am. How can such a thing be? I would be wise to fear for trickery, this is no ordinary place, it is I who am ordinary. To believe such things could be fatal!”
Trace again looked through the dome towards the sky and whispered, “Ah Master, did I see you winking there? Your manipulation is so great I almost believed this magic. But a slave cannot free himself. Old slaves simply disappear. They are here one day and then they are gone. What chance have I. Is this the place where old slaves disappear? This maze of unreason? Tell me Masters, will you remember me, Trace the slave who laid so many stones for your feet to grace? I spit on them now!” He spat on the ground and laughed. “Ha, I will never bow to you again you pieces of shit, you maggots from hell, I have seen you, or have you forgotten, I have seen you bathing in your shame, squealing like pigs in bloody linens.”
They will come now he thought. He pulled from his pocket a glass vile and shook it, then holding it in front of his face he unscrewed the lid and breathed the air surrounding it. He knew he must be careful now, …..very careful. He waited…He thought of his friend Kye…and the others…..and he waited. He put the vile away carefully in its container. “It will be soon .” he whispered, “ Be strong” They may reveal themselves or they may try and blind me. He thought. Or they will wait till I am weak. Or perhaps they will allow me to capture myself. He breathed deeply. I will wait and test their strength and maybe I will escape this place.
Trace knelt on the floor of the chamber praying for strength, As he prayed he looked about this chamber maze.. Along the arch of the dome were sculptures of beautiful bodies most of which he did not recognize, but one was of the Eilexiuos and he thought it odd he had not noticed it till now.
“Careful Trace, he told himself.”
The stone from which it was made contained the blessing of the messiah, and was forever in movement, subtly changing shape. The Eilexious had been like a goddess to all slaves helping many to stay alive when they had lost all hope. He watched her slow, delicate, movements. She appeared to be bathing. The stone even formed the shape of moving water drops trickling down her naked form. He had dreamt of her many nights while he was in slavery, and many of the other slaves could not go more than a mornings work without referencing her name. Her face had been turning towards him as he stood there and her arms extended out to him, beckoning as if she could see him, which could not be so, she was only manufactured living nano stone, but she did not turn away and her lips called to him. It looked like she was saying Trace but their was no sound,, just her lips moving. He felt a momentary indiscernible shroud enveloping his mind. “It’s the Master, he is near,” thought Trace. Suddenly he saw a shadow fall across the dome, throwing the chamber into partial darkness and then tiny particles of light began shooting down though the ceiling, increasing exponentially bouncing in multiple directions till the chamber was infused with light. Trace raised his head and held out his arms skyward, “Hear I am you dirty beasts of stench, you Masters of nothingness, take my flesh if you will!” He yelled in rebellion, but the light passed right through him. He had not contained any of it. He had no reflection, no absorption and as fast as the light had came it diminished out through the arches. Trace knelt in awe, looking at his arms and body. “And what is this?” He spoke aloud. “Am I not still flesh and bone?” His eyes glared in defiance. “How can the light pass through me yet I am visible….how can this be?” He clenched his jaws together barring his teeth. “I have no claws for battle, Can the wolves not see a rabbit in the snow?” He lowered his voice, “If so, then why do they chase their tails like lost dogs?” Trace took measured steps around the chamber trying to remember more of his past. He felt as though he had grown six inches in six minutes, but the maze he could see had not gotten smaller.
The master had come and gone without finding him. For the first time ever he escaped the light of the Master, and he didn’t know why. He struggled to remember another time like this, but he couldn’t beside brief moments lasting mere seconds, but then had he ever tried to escape at all?….and if he had never tried, then why now? His mind was filled with empty holes as he tried to place his questions in some kind of order, but try as he might they remained estranged and out of sequence, There seemed to be no way to analyze the situation.
He gently closed his eyes and spoke out loud “ Are these the halls of murder or madness?….What miss-shapen amusement am I…… You think these calloused hands too course to feel that one remaining string you pull or is it two? It seems I have no choice but to remain.”
He knew he had much to remember before moving forward, if he were to survive, and what good was freedom without direction, was there any such thing as freedom within a maze?…..and when will they come again, they are not done with me.
He threw himself up in the web shaped bedding from where he had awakened and stared again at the beautiful Eilexious above, but she no longer looked aware of anything but her pre-programmed existence. She lavished around in a watery pyre of sensuous extreme.
Trace was unaware of the reality of what was really happening, subtly deep inside the new cells being reproduced in his body. The metamorphosis occurring from a non living mutated virus, growing in a cancerous chain-reaction, cutting and splicing new genetic sequences in his DNA. He sat quietly near the center of the chamber wondering what he should do next.
Trace had been a slave for as long as he could remember, but he didn’t know if he could trust his memory, it seemed to have blank spaces and dark voids where missing years could hide. He had come from a large city in the north which had been mostly abandoned at some earlier time and then re-established with the slave population. Before the slaves, it had been inhabited by the Democracy who were the ancestors of Traces family. The Democracy had once been the greatest rulers of the world and had discovered a system of control which surpassed all other governments. They had learned to control all other nations without claiming ownership which was there greatest historical achievement . The Democracy was still in power but had withdrawn into the southern regions as the ice invaded its stronghold. The secret of the Democracy was hard for most to understand and known to few, but consisted of the most simple of concepts. It was that truth as always remains the same, but expression of language and the value of the meaning of words were dilated and or diluted to suite the polarization of the leaderships views , ( which had originally been discovered by the church and worked into a form of art by later manipulators who with the increasing public dependency on computer networks found it very easy to create), there-fore the governors of the Democracy were in constant control over educational flux and entertainment value systems. In short, the Democracy possessed the ability to create something from nothing. The Masses were controlled as easily as sheep in a pasture, most of which were completely unaware of their complacency. The individual was dead although this was passionately denied. Of course there were many other methods they used to control the behavior of populations but none as magnificently simple as this. Another more obvious means of staying in power was standing upon the leading edge of technology always moving forward in disregard of obvious possible hazards. Most of this work had to be done in secrecy until societal memes caught up with the reality of evolutionary survival. But even the great Democracy was coerced to relocate it’s centers of power as nature divided and conquered the northern regions of the Americas and great sheaths of glacial ice forced there way down through the continents tearing apart all previously habitable forests and all evidence of civilization. As Trace remained laying upon the web in the chamber feeling safe from the masters, he reminisced over the city he had left behind and prayed for lost memories to return that might help him to find his way.
Trace had never seen the city when it was alive, and could only imagine what it must have been like in the days of the Democracy. Now only small segments could afford to be kept operational and everyday it took more fuel to run at the same efficiency. The fuel supply was adequate and the Masters might give them more or tell them where more could be found, as long as they could manage to produce. Trace was sure there must be large deposits of stored fuel nearby within several hundred miles but without the time or means for a thoughal search, and the limited manpower available, their was no sense in looking. They were forced to spend all their time in the mines, and what little extra time there was, was spent combating the cold. As evening came Trace went to the upper level of the mine to shut down the electrical panels which were not needed for the night operation. He looked to the west and saw the last glimpses of sunlight refracting from distant skeletal structures of the city. The light was broken and weak and cold. He turned back to the panel and threw the switch. The ground surface became gray and now he could see that the stars were already visible above, emitting dancing particles of foreign history. “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” someone yelled from behind him. “you want me to freeze out here?” Trace shined a light toward the voice. It was his friend Kye, followed by a large Siberian husky and her pup.
“Hey Kye, Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was still up here.” Replied Trace. “But if I would have known you were here, I wouldn’t have worried much about your safety.”
The pup ran over to Trace and nudged his leg refusing to stop until Trace reached down to give him a pet.
“If anyone can survive the darkness, of all the slaves, it would be you.” He continued.
“Ya, right Trace, One of these days your going to find out just how strong I am , and it’s probably gonna be when I’m holdin somthin up over your Head.” He grinned, and you could barley see a smile showing through his stringy iced laced beard. “Shine the light over here so I don’t have to introduce my ass to the ice.” He ordered, “I’m already sore as hell.”
“ Oh are you, Its not like you to admit it.” Trace shined the light on the dirty ice as Kye walked towards him. Trace had always been amazed at the strength and stamina Kye had always shown when ever they worked together. In fact Kye made any physical labor look easy, and many of the other slaves had showed they felt the same way, always giving him a wide girth when he was near.
“Why are you still up top?” asked Trace as Kye reached him.
“ I was watching for the Caribou,” he replied, “I just know there’s got to be some left.” His face was worn from time, especially now, in the gray hours of sunset . The scars above his brow seemed deeper, more penetrating. Charcoal smears half covered the bottoms of his eyelids and the hair from his untrimmed mustache grew into his mouth.
“Beside, this here pup needs to get a walk on the surface, it’s not good for em to stay down in that shaft all the time. Come here pup.” He called.
The pup looked at Trace as if for permission and then wagged back over to Kye.
“Ya, I hope your right, about the caribou, Woudn’t that be a site, eh?” Trace couldn’t say what he thought, he too wanted to see the caribou, but he guessed they were probably gone and even if there were any left they would have past here by now. Kye knew it too but he just couldn’t admit it. The cold was invading fast, as the suns defenses retreated in the west. The lights around the boundary of the mine exposed the steady clouds of exhaust from below. Kye grabbed the light and started towards the entrance.
“Let’s go see what they left us to eat.” He said, leading the way. The ice crunched underfoot as Trace followed Kye to one of the smaller elevator cages suspended evenly at the mouth of the shaft. Sounds from running motors rhythmically hummed while pumps drew air from the surface down to the living quarters. When they reached the first level the elevator stopped, and they walked down a corridor past the video monitor room. The door was open, and Trace looked in. There were screens stacked on metal shelves and monitoring switch devises in neat arrays. A young , tough looking man sat at a chair facing the equipment. He was tapping his boot against the side of the table.
“Everything all right?” asked Trace. It was Pauli, he was twenty years younger than Trace.
“ The usual, all the equipment functional, but the exterior antennae needs some work or something, getting some static. It must be ice damage.” Trace trusted Pauli, and knew he was competent. He seemed to be possessed by some inner spirit or quality not to be found in many a slave. He could function without being told what to do and had a competitive nature. “I’ll ah, check it out tomorrow, We wouldn’t want to miss a signal from the er Masters.” He turned back towards the screens.
“ You eat yet?”
“Ya, don’t ask.”
Trace turned back down the hall and walked to the mess room. Kye was already at a table cutting on some kind of meat. Trace grabbed a preheated plate from under a heat lamp and slid it across the table from Kye.
“I guess I’m not quite as tired as I thought I was. I can’t work hard enough to make this shit taste good.” complained Kye. But he kept on eating.
“Ah, but the Masters give us their best.” Trace pleaded. (But Trace had had moments when he doubted if the food was real. It had none or little taste. But he could not deny the truth of the masters.) He swallowed a bite of the same meat.
“ Yes, of course, the Masters give us their best.” Agreed Kye. He cut a piece and put it down by the pup, under the table, who sniffed it and turned away. “Seems the influence of the Master’s don’t go over so well with the pup.
“Ah, well maybe the pup got a sniff off that caribou you were looking for. If that’s the case I can see how he wouldn’t be interested in that meat. Maybe that’s what he’s dreaming about now.” Said Trace. The pup was already sprawled out comfortably on the floor, half asleep, his chest slowly rising up and down. The momma husky was laying by the coal burner casually watching. “We didn’t do so well today so I hear.” Trace sighed, “They won’t be pleased.” Kye looked around the room to see if anyone was listening. There were a couple of young kids at another table playing some game. They looked to be in their late teens and seemed intent on the dice.
“ It’s getting worse ever day,” Kye frowned. “ were getting the tonnage but after processing there’s less and less of the good stuff.” He looked down at his hands.
“I know but we should keep quiet about it for now,” said Trace, “It might get better again, and no sense in giving knives to the children,” Trace pointed his finger towards the youths. “ it’s hard enough already for them. They don’t need to be thinking about a personal visit from the Master’s, they’ll find out soon enough if the production doesn’t go up.”
Just then a dice rolled across the floor and stopped by Kyes boot.
“ Hey, Kye, what’s the number showing on that dice?” asked one of the young slavers.
“Doesn’t matter.” Said the other, “It’s not a clean roll”
“Looks perfectly clean to me” exclaimed the first, smiling, as he covered the other dice remaining on the table.
“What do you mean.” Exclaimed the first. “You can’t use a dice that’s rolled off the table.” His eyes widening.
“It’s a simple six.” Said Kye. As he kicked it back towards the youths.
“Kye, you think that is a fair roll?” asked the second youth grinning. Everyone called him Thread.
“ Hey, it’s not my game. I was just sayin the number on the dice.”
Thread looked across the table towards his friend. “Go ahead, use it, it’s not gonna help you anyway.” He paused, “Besides, Eilexious knows you need any extra bit of help you can get.” He grinned. “Or has Eilexious left you for her little sister?”
Kye laughed.
The first youth, named Rand, was not accustom to Thread verbally defending himself. He squirmed in his seat, not wanting to appear weak in front of Kye and Trace.
“You’d be the one to know about little sisters, you muck miner.” He picked up the dice and placed the little six next to the other dice.
“That’s 226, right em down.’ He declared decisively, clenching his teeth.
Thread scribbled the number at the bottom of a list and was examining the results. He looked up with a glare in his eyes, and threw the pencil at Rand.
“Alright, pass me the dice, you cheat.” He chuckled. “Your gonna get yours anyway.”
The two youths were best of friends. Not just because they worked side by side everyday. It was more than that. They each had found something in the other which they had lacked in them selves. They were brothers by choice, not by blood, but they would stand by each other blood or no blood.
Thread rolled the dice and started counting out loud and the game of dice continued again without further incident. They seemed to quiet down occasionally whispering to each other. Most of the other slavers were already in quarters having eaten hours before. A few strolled by the open door in the hall. One youth came in and spoke with the two dice players. They traded some secret or other and then he left.
Up on the surface a storm crept towards them, frozen northern currents swirling off newly forming glaciers , infantry soldiers of the unconquerable coming hordes of ice, sub-zero temperatures equalizing every last trace of energy. A prelude to the inevitable events ahead. Cold crept down the mine shaft, encroaching previously limited barriers downward still, while motors automatically advanced in opposition.
Kye was still at the table, elbows down, his head was resting in his hands. His right hand revealing a dried over cut from earlier in the day. His hands were never healed. Trace, who had been warming by the coal burner, walked over and sat next to him.
“Hey, …. It’s getting colder in here.” Said Trace. “And something’s wrong with these lights. Have you noticed how they keep flickering. Blessed Messiah , we don’t need any more trouble down here. We need to check with Pauli.”
“Kye …..you awake?” he repeated. Kye raised his head drowsily.
“Huh, ya.” He squinted his eyes. “ Dam it all.” He picked up his skinnin knife which he had left on the table and looked at the blade. “Ah…. You said Pauli, ah…he’s all right.” He carved off a piece of fingernail and flicked it. “Ya, it is getting colder.” He stared again at the knife blade, running his calloused thumb along it end.
“Hey Kye, we gotta figure out what were gonna do, you know, …if we run out of the good stuff. We won’t have nothing left to trade.” Trace felt tense. His shoulders felt as if heavy iron weights were suspended from them. “We’re going to have to face the facts sooner or later.” His throat was tight.The lights continued to flicker and Kye scratched the knife blade into the table.
“I used to keep this so sharp I could shave with it.” Said Kye. He seemed off in the past, lost some where in time. Then, refocusing , “ So…….. what do you want from me?”
“I want you to wake up!…..Haven’t you felt it?…..Down in the cavern. When were around that….. stuff.” Trace couldn’t explain it. Something inside him was fighting him….holding back the words he knew were there. “Haven’t you wondered what this stuff is?” He reached into his upper vest pocket and pulled out a small glass vile containing a powdery silver substance. He shook the vile and unscrewed the lid, releasing a strong odor and held it out in front of Kye. His hand was shaking.
Kye sniffed and pushed the vile away. “What are you doing with that?” He groaned in disbelief. Trace pushed the vile at him again.
“Smell it, go on……” insisted Trace. He held the vile again in front of Kye, and Kye locked onto the hand, holding it under his nose. He breathed it and almost immediately pushed it back at Trace. “Enough!” He felt confused. Dizzy. He was there in the room with Trace, but he was also in another place. He saw the Masters in their long white robes..At least at first they looked like the Masters, but something was wrong,….They looked different…..He could hear them…..there droning, dull voices….their faces, hideous, ugly faces….pure evil…. “I see it…..I see it…I can see them Trace.” Then suddenly one of the Masters turned towards him, and then a second one who smiled at him while the first opened his mouth. Out of his mouth spewed vile words. They came forth like vomit at him, all at once, hundreds of vile, disgusting, abysmal words. They squealed like pigs. All the Masters turned and squealed.
“Trace?”……..He was falling…Trace!….” he called, “Do it Kye… Face it” yelled Trace…. “On the backs of children,” Kye moaned … “Stop you bastards, you cowards!” Kye convulsed several times and then started vomiting violently. The pup jumped up from under the table and ran to his momma, snuggling against her. The whole incident lasted but mire seconds.
Thread and Rand had stopped playing dice and were looking in their direction, but quickly turned away as Trace looked up. They couldn’t have heard anything, but they must have seen Kye pukeing.
Trace looked over at the two young slavers and said, “No wonder the pup wouldn’t eat that meat, ug …mustav’e been some really bad stuff. ”
“Glad I didn’t get that plate Kye.” Winced Thread. He kept his head down.
“You all right Kye” asked Trace. He grabbed a towel and cleaned up the mess, then carried it to the coal burner and threw it in. It vaporized instantaneously.
“What’s one less towel?”
“Ya, I’m alright…sorry, I don’t know what happened their. I just …. You know..I just felt sick.” He answered. “ I guess from now on I’ll put more trust in the pup.”
“Ya, I do know. I do know Kye, and now you know too.” Replied Trace. “ And your right about that pup. I think we ought to give him a name. Here pup.” Called Trace. The pup looked up but ran over to Kye.
“ Good pup” Kye reached down and scratched the pup, and the pup pulled playfully at his sleeve, growling.
Just then the two youths got up, “Hey you guys, were going to turn in.” said Thread. “See you tomorrow.” Rand was already out the door.
Trace replied, “Hey, would you mind telling Pauli about the lights flickering in here before you head down?” Thread mumbled something unintelligible.
“ No I don’t mind, is that guy a loner or what?” Trace didn’t answer and Thread left the room.
He and Kye were alone now.
“Well, what do you think this stuff is? He pulled the vile out again and held it up to the light. The Master’s want this stuff real bad.” He glared at the vile. It somehow gave him a sense of power. “Come on, don’t try and tell me you didn’t feel that, before you started puking all over.” He started to pass the vile to Kye when Kye pushed it away.
“Oh no, I’ve seen enough of that tonight.” He frowned. “I don’t think I want to know.”
“ Come on, you have to help me figure this out or were going to die here. You know I’m right.” Said Trace. “I’ve never asked you for help before, but now I’m asking.”
“Help…your asking for help….What you think you know me?.” Said Kye, “ Well you don’t. You don’t know some of the things Iv’e done. Or where I come from. I’m not the kind that can be counted on.” He groaned
“Oh, I know you. I know you, cause were both the same….and I know that like me, youv’e done terrible things to survive, but like me, I know what’s in your heart, and that’s what counts. I don’t care what you’ve done…..Where youv’e been.” He clenched his fists. “You don’t think I’ve been in those kinds of places? I’m just better at hiding it than you…..I’m ashamed so I hide it. But where do you think we are now. This is going to be one of those kinds of places. What do you think…..You think the Master’s are going to find a place for US!….. When this place is nothing more than a hole in the ground. When there’s nothing left.” Trace stopped in mid sentence.
Kye closed and opened the knife. It was a beautiful knife. “I don’t know what to tell you.” He sighed.
“ Then here, take this thing” he forced the vile into Kye’s hand. “I think you need to take another look at this stuff, and then tell me your not going to help!”
Trace got up from the table. “I’m tired.” He said. He walked toward the door feeling defeated. At the door he turned to Kye and said.
“When were done tomorrow I think I’ll go top side and watch for those Caribou, …You gonna be up there?”
“I don’t know, maybe…. wouldn’t that be a site.”
Slaves of the old Democracy had once been called citizens before the Great Upheaval when technological innovations had peaked with the development of stem cells, artificial intelligence and nano-technology. Most of the experimentation had been done by what was known as the Department of Defense before the Great Upheaval during a period of terrorist filter implants. Filter implants were a technique used by the politicians and those representatives of the citizens who believed that the masses were incapable of understanding the necessities and complexities required for continued world domination by the democracy. Filter implants had become an important tool in controlling the minds of populations and their economies. It was based upon a simple magicians trick of misdirection in combination with truth falsification techniques and certain key ideas around which nations were formed. Thru over redundancy, repetition and the enforcement of certain beliefs, the Democracy completely controlled its citizenry . In truth they were not a Democracy at all but had become a monopoly. In these days some of the citizens thought they were still in control while most didn’t really care as long as they were kept entertained and well fed but with the fast developing tech in nano-biology and molecular science certain break-throughs were made in the creation of man-made viruses. It was discovered that certain man made viruses when released in the right conditions could subtly control higher brain functions in humans similar to chemicals but with long lasting and even permanent effects. As further experimentation continued many different designer molecules were made in an attempt at creating different viruses for different control situations. Then with nano assemblers and replicators it became easy to mass produce these viruses using mostly common elements for the bulk of the molecule but generally small quantities of rare elements and some organic living organisms. These viruses when released within the subjects created new DNA and RNA sequences in the living cells tissues. When applied in the proper dosages absolute population control could be obtained without suspect or evidence. As the government continued its experimentation in certain control groups it began to realize how powerful these new filter implant were and began to realize that…….
posted by Jim Burnell at 1:22 PM
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