Chapter 12
Callen was sound asleep on his bedroll when the sun came up. The fire was a grave to the vivid colours of the night before. Lien submerged a canteen in the river. The narrow opening burped and bubbled as it sucked in water. He brought the dripping flask to the pit of charcoal and emptied it onto the blackened coals. Steam let out with a snap and a whistle as the wood expelled the last of its heat. The charcoal blocks found a deeper shade as they sucked in moisture and glistened in the morning light. Eve was already up and, having refreshed herself in the water, was packing for the day’s ride.
Callen rolled over, disturbed by the hiss of steam from the fire pit. He pulled his jacket up over his eyes, leaving only tussled hair poking out to greet the world. Lien sauntered to him and held the canteen high over his head. Callen lurched up in a soggy panic, gasping, trying to understand why he was wet. Eve laughed. Lien was showing no emotion what-so-ever. He returned to the river’s edge to refill his water bottle. Callen stumbled over river rocks to the water and ran a hand over his weary eyes.
“Morning,” Lien said from nearby.
Callen didn’t respond. He scooped two handfuls of water to his face.
“How long before we reach the Elders?” he asked, as Lien moved away.
“Three maybe, four hours.”
Callen nodded. His resolve to put his plan to the Elders had grown overnight. He wanted Eve’s support, but even if he didn’t get it, he was still going ahead with the idea. The three mounted their horses. Callen looked every bit the accomplished rider until his rump hit the saddle. He let out an audible yelp. Yesterday’s ride had left a painful reminder. Eve and Lien looked on hearing the pitiful cry. They smiled, watching Callen lower himself gently to his saddle.
They rode for an hour in silence. Everywhere Callen looked nature dictated the landscape. Rocks and earth mixed easily with leaves, building a blanket of decay that would give rise to the next generation of the landscape. Occasionally a rock would reveal itself as an old form crafted in cement or a sharp angled cornerstone. It was a constant reminder the land had once been home to communities he would have recognised.
When Lien rode far enough ahead, Callen was able to speak to Eve in private.
“Are you still mad at me?” he asked.
“Have you changed your mind?”
“No.”
Eve dug her heels in. Her horse booted forward towards Lien. Callen had his answer. The next few hours passed long and lonely for Callen who did his best to ignore his bruises. He looked to Eve who was avoiding eye contact. Eventually, with time to think and Callen looking more and more pitiful as the miles rolled on, her upset tempered.
“We’re almost there,” she said, as she came up behind Lien’s horse.
“Almost,” said Lien, intrigued that Eve had avoided Callen for so long.
“Getting tired of our guest?” he asked with satisfaction.
“I think he’s crazy.”
“Or brave.” Lien looked to Eve for a reaction. Eve didn’t dare look at him. She kept her eyes on the road ahead. As they rode, people began to appear in greater numbers. There were signs of life everywhere and except for the absence of buildings Callen could have sworn they’d come across a community. Children appeared playing with rudimentary toys. People passed, either alone or in groups, some carrying baskets heavy with food. Callen marvelled at it and delighted in the laughter of the children playing games. In the city, people were too busy for such pleasures. The growing crowd stood watching him pass, but there was an ease about them that Callen had never seen in his world.
A group of young people came towards them around the next bend. They were guards and had tracked their approach. The countryside was treed and steep in all directions, but they’d come to a plateau, half way up a long inclined trail. The greeting party led the travellers to an entrance through a natural cave in a rock wall. They dismounted, giving their horses to those around them before being led inside. Through a small opening at the back of the dark cave was a door that swung open as they approached. It led to a long corridor. Callen couldn’t believe what he was seeing; electric lights were bright, and the walls were in smooth concrete. The floor was slate, expertly laid and screaming of a modern world. The corridor seemed to go forever into the distance on a slight decline.
On reaching two large wooden doors, they were told to sit on a long bench. A moment later a woman approached from the end of the corridor. Her shoes clicked against the slate floor.
“They’re ready for you,” she said.
The door opened. Callen and Lien entered the chamber. Eve stood to join them. The women grew awkward.
“The Elders have only asked to see the young man from the city and Lien, as his escort. I’m, afraid you’ll have to stay out here,” she said to Eve, who looked with alarm as the doors closed her out.
Inside the chamber, wooden benches circled the room like an amphitheatre. Seated far below, twelve Elders sat at a large semi-circular table facing the crowd. Everyone stared at Callen who followed Lien to the level of the seated Elders where they were directed to sit at a narrow table.
The moment they took their places a murmur began in the crowd. The Chief Elder, Gerda, began shuffling through papers. With a crack from her gavel, she brought the chamber to order and ran down the history of Callen’s case. She began with the first judgment made when he was seven, a judgment to bring him out of sedation and lay him on the hillside to confuse his mind to the lost time and chase him home. Callen listened in shock to an episode of his life that he’d been told many times, by those he trusted, was all in his imagination.
Gerda continued, leaving nothing out, up to and including his appearance in front of them. As she read not one person in the room made a sound. Callen listened to the detailed account of every moment he’d spent since arriving, with only a few of his most private experiences unaccounted. He sat nervous, not knowing the process or procedures, but aware he was being judged, possibly for his life.
Some of the Elders scribbled notes; others looked to Gerda as she spoke. She was the one who asked to meet Callen face to face. Callen nodded politely and thanked her for the opportunity, trying his best to make a good impression. Gerda asked some questions, ranging from requests for information on his upbringing, family and friends, to his spiritual beliefs. Callen answered each carefully. Lien listened to each reply and felt nothing but pity. He could tell Callen had grasped little from their discussions about the Outlocked way of life on their trip to the Elders.
“Do you understand nature?” Gerda asked in the course of her questioning. Callen looked confused. Gerda read his quizzical look.
“Tell me what you think of nature. It’s not a trick question. I’d just like to hear what you think?”
“Nature is the world we live in,” Callen began. “It’s the air and the ground and the animals.”
“Where does the human race fit in?”
“We live with nature; alongside it. We use what we can and change what we can’t to make life easier.” The question put Callen on the spot and without time to think he regurgitated the lesson’s he’d learned in school. Gerda thanked him and then went to work in quiet tones with her colleagues discussing his fate. Callen turned to Lien with alarm.
“Is that it?”
“You could have said more.”
“What about my idea of telling the city what’s out here?”
“Are you sure that’s still something you want to do?” Lien was battling his conscience about letting Callen put an idea that held serious risks to his future.
“Yes,” Callen said with conviction. Lien tentatively got to his feet. It gained the attention of the Elders.
“I’m sorry to interrupt such important deliberations; it’s just the young man has something else he wants to ask,” Lien explained. The Elders looked to Callen. Some looked annoyed. Some intrigued, while others simply showed their attention to be polite to the stranger who had entered their world uninvited. Callen
rose and began to explain his vision for the two worlds. He outlined the benefits he felt each could gain from the other. The Outlocked world would gain advanced technology while the city would gain space to grow its population, allowing more freedom while sharing additional resources. Callen spoke for almost ten minutes, talking of commitment to change and the need for both worlds, each with uniquely different resources, to come together and find a better future for everyone. He was eloquent and passionate and proved to everyone listening he had little understanding of the Outlocked world or its history. Callen finished and stood quietly waiting for a response. It came from Gerda.
“Who was your great-grandmother?”
Callen looked puzzled.
“Your grandmother’s mother, who was she? What did she do? How did she live her life?”
“I didn’t know my great-grandmother.”
“Your grandmother, then - your mother’s mother?”
“I’ve had two mothers,” Callen answered. Gerda milked the moment like a seasoned performer. She did a double take.
“At what age were you reborn?” Laughter broke out, and Gerda enjoyed every moment. As the laughter died, Callen explained his reassignment when he was seven years old. He explained his first appearance in the Outlocked world was a result of running away to find his original parents. The audience didn’t find this part of Callen’s life at all funny. They shared Gerda’s sympathy for him.
“That couldn’t have been easy,” she said softly. “But it doesn’t speak well of a society you feel we should align ourselves with.” Gerda paused. She shuffled some papers and made a quick note before continuing.
“Your city sees the past as a relic, out of touch and something to be patronised. You distance yourself from life, through value and convenience, from natural food and natural resources. Natural relationships are foreign to you. The key to your success comes from achieving standards that win individuals rights and privileges, rights and privileges everyone should be entitled. Your arbitrary standards allow for no variation and variation drives progress, not profit; not price. Your world has convinced itself everything has a value in a ledger. How do you value failure when it leads to the next step taken by another person trying to solve the same problem? What one person sees as success may not satisfy another. That’s why life’s parameters need to be set by the individual; it’s their life, it should be their measures. People need to be allowed to live uncontrolled, unregulated, unexpected lives. That’s what makes individuals valuable. It can lead to disappointment and despair, but from a person’s hand, not by measures set in stone by a committee. And those who do bear hardship, even they experience warmth and joy along the way. Life is the great adventure because each of us owns it. The decisions we make that turn out to be grand, the ones we regret, they’re all part of an individual’s life. What right does anyone have to dictate that life, those choices to another? You are living in a corporate dictatorship, not a democracy. I fear you’ve come to misappropriate that word, democracy. In our world, we know its meaning, and we’ve reordered our communities to guard against what your world has become. We are not about to give back that advantage when history reminds us your people selfishly inflicted centuries of hardship upon us when they dismissed us as having no value.”
The other Elders nodded furiously in agreement. Applause broke out across the audience. Callen knew he wouldn’t be able to change anyone’s mind. His grand idea had come to nothing. He sat quietly trying to think of something else to argue, but he thought of nothing.
The Elders went back to considering Callen’s fate. Callen sat dejected. Lien looked to the defeated young man. He knew what was coming. Callen would be bound to the Outlocked world; deemed too great a risk to remain free. He would be placed under guard until he gave up his notion of returning and that would mean a young woman would be encouraged to sacrifice her future to create a family and tie him to this world through his child. Lien chilled at the thought of who this young woman may be. It was exactly how the Outlocked had tied him to this world, so he knew it worked. It worked so well that Lien would do anything to protect his daughter from the same fate. Lien got to his feet.
“Could I say something?” he asked. The Elders were shocked by the interruption. Lien apologised, pushing on quickly, denying the Elders a chance to refuse him.
“Almost twenty years ago, I came to this land. Like Callen, I was sure the city had more to offer this world than we had to offer them. I’m now a father and a member of your community. I’m proud and thankful for that, but when I arrived the fear was I’d return and take the news of this world back with me. Great lengths were taken to prevent my return, even though going back would have meant risking my freedom. Over the years I’ve gained your trust. I now command your children who serve under me as border guards. Our sole objective is to prevent those from the city discovering the truth of our freedoms. I understand that fear, but I wonder if it’s justified? As much as Callen doesn’t understand our world, I don’t feel you fully understand his.”
The chamber fell deathly silent. No-one dared move. It was an uncomfortable moment. Lien, a man granted citizenship by these people, was schooling the most respected members of the Outlocked world about what was best for them.
“You have a plan to re-educate us?” Gerda asked in a disapproving tone.
“Yes.”
“And for the past twenty years, you’ve kept this to yourself?”
Lien knew he was asking a lot to criticise, but he saw no other way of protecting his daughter.
“I’ll admit I can’t be sure, but in Callen, we have the perfect opportunity to find out how great the threat of a single individual returning to the city is. I don’t think their population will risk their modern lives to come into our world, even if he tells them what’s out here.”
The Elders erupted in protest. The thought of setting Callen off to deliberately publicise what lay beyond the city walls seemed suicidal. Why should they voluntarily take a course that presented any risk to them at all?
“I don’t believe there is a risk,” Lien interjected. “I don’t think many will believe him and those who do won’t give up their modern luxuries to follow him. They’re comfortably lazy. They don’t want to do any physical work or face hardship. Most of them don’t even want to interact with anyone outside their circle of friends. Their only concerns are personal and selfish. They don’t want to risk what they’ve been working a lifetime to achieve. They don’t want uncertainty in their lives.”
“If you’re wrong it could mean war!” one of the Elders barked at him.
“Against people who aren’t willing to fight a war,” Lien shot back. “I lived in the city half my life. I know what sort of people they’ve become. If I’m right about this, we’re wasting the best years of our children’s lives by having them serve as border guards against an imagined threat.”
A quiet murmur of dissent rippled through the crowd. The Elders looked to one another not sure what to make of Lien’s claims.
“The boy would be in danger?” Gerda queried after a long silence.
“My guess is they’ll ignore him. And if they do it will redefine the way we live and allow us to concentrate on more important things than guarding against fears born out of our imagination.”
“What if he’s not ignored?”
“Then we’ll be exactly where we are now; needing to defend our borders as we’ve always done.”
Gerda sat, staring directly at Lien. The Elders around her indulged in a series of nervous gestures; they were scared of this idea. Eventually, Gerda wrote on a pad of paper in front of her. She tore the page and passed it to the Elder next to her. The page was passed around the table until it reached every member. Each read what was written and nodded in agreement. With a rap from her gavel, Gerda spoke.
“Clear the chamber; everyone, including those appearing,” She commanded. The order was an extraordinary one and only issued on the rarest of occasions. The Elders had heard everythi
ng they needed to hear and wanted to debate the issue in private. It would be a chance for them to drop the act of impartial arbitrators maintained for the public and speak openly and honestly about how they truly felt. Lien and Callen were last to leave. Eve met them, hoping for good news. Lien brought her up to speed. She reacted with frustration, her nervous wait not over.
Into the second hour of waiting, Eve stole a moment with Callen and pleaded with him to change his mind. She was certain they’d lock him up or worse. Callen refused and Eve broke into tears.
“I love you,” she said, softly, close to Callen’s ear. Callen looked over his shoulder to Lien. He was sitting a distance away.
“I love you too, but I still have to do this,” Callen whispered. Eve looked angry. She assumed Callen’s feelings didn’t match her own. She couldn’t know how wrong she was.
Inside the chamber, the Elders had lost all sense of decorum. Some were up and pacing; others were pounding fists and pointing when they spoke. None of it helped reach a decision. Gerda sat quietly, watching each member and listening to all concerns. A few took the bold stance of agreeing with Lien. The boy’s quest was a golden opportunity to find out exactly where they stood with their more powerful neighbour. For years the Elders’ policy, a policy adopted and embraced by the Outlocked population, was one of fear and isolation. The debate over assigning young volunteers to defend, or in extreme cases, seek out a relationship to bond intruders to the Outlocked world, had raged for years. Here was a chance to test if the sacrifices made by the youngest members of their community were warranted. The Elders siding with Lien argued that Callen should be allowed home with news of what he’d experienced. The reaction would help determine future policies for generations to come.
The more conservative Elders were outraged and felt allowing Callen home would spell the end of their hard-won freedoms. Some felt it would lead to annihilation or to being overrun by disgruntled citizens from within the city’s walls. Either way, the risk was not one they wanted to take, and a passionate debate was growing.
Gerda listened without speaking. Next to her Cole did the same. As the Chief Elder’s deputy his vote was crucial in deciding what action they took and he was vacillating with his decision. The argument raged so long some of the Elders began to slump on nearby benches, exhausted. It seemed they would never move out of the deadlock. As hands ground into eyes and backs arched in attempts to revive weary bodies, Cole caught Gerda’s eye and then spoke. His words shattered the debate and brought complete silence.
“Tell them,” he said. Every person in the room turned to him with curiosity, every person except Gerda. She stared at her deputy, her face draped in betrayal. She simmered with outrage, but Cole refused to back down.
“Tell them,” he said, and then threatened, “Or I will.”
Inner City Page 11
