Untold Deception

by William Staikos

  “What’s wrong?”

  Mr. Gram seemed to read my face. I was terrified of what was to come. I took another step back. He put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s OK. This will not be like last time. I promise.” He turned around and motioned me to follow. “Come on. Wolf News team will be here soon, and they are just the worst.”

  We headed outside and there was a ramp leading down to a small clearing. The black trees had been cut straight around the train station. The trees near the tracks were clear-cut. The tracks continued into the horizon. There were areas where people would grip their legs and hang upside down. This area had black houses and seemed to be the countryside of civilization. I glanced at the mountaintop in the distance. The guards must have carried me about two kilometers from my previous fight. I hope Sanoj is OK.

  More Minyades guards appeared to protect use from the news reporters. The guards escorted us to a circular electric field. I’ve never seen such technology before. They were bouncing off it like flies hitting a window. There were poles with yellow ball tips set up around the station. It had one large pole at the very top and several other all around the perimeter. In between each pole, the lightning was the weakest. Guards were standing a the weakest point, holding back the reporters. This electrical dome provided protection.

  “Why do they need the dome?”

  “The news reporters don’t care about personal space. We call this contraption a field. The guards must stop some of them as the field has a limit. They ram into them to get close and personal.”

  Some of the Minyades reporters got through the guards and bounced off the electricity. I moved back and reached for my sword on instinct. I realized it wasn’t there anymore.

  “Relax Salan.”

  “Where are my weapons?”

  “Confiscated; they wouldn’t allow you to start swinging a sword around would they?”

  Some of the reporters were holding out a weird bulb that was attached to a stick. The bulb glowed like a lamp and had bumpy metal pieces at the end. This was hooked up with large extension cords to one big black box. The black box had a line running into the ground. There were guards near the box as the field needed to be plugged in. More reporters were flocking to the area. They were clamoring over each other.

  “How do you feel about the assassination of your mother Salan?” asked a reporter.

  “Salan over here!” screamed another.

  More reporters shouted, and guards moved them away in the air and on foot. As they did, more kept coming towards us. They did not appear to have the mannerisms of a person, but that of a desperate wild animal.

  “What’s wrong with them?”

  “Money makes the world go around, Salan. It’s their job,” sighed Mr. Gram.

  “They’re like caged animals. Could they be less aggressive?”

  “That doesn’t get listeners. A reaction on the radio gets people tuning in. Just say nothing to them. They aren’t worth your voice or time,” Mr. Gram grinned.

  A destructive sounding machine bellowed out smoke in the distance, coming towards us at an alarming rate. My eyes focused, it was just a train, it’s been a while since I’ve seen one since my days in Faslow. The dark metallic machine hissed to a grinding stop. People on the other side got out. Many stared at the multitude of reporters.

  “All passengers leave immediately! Only Salan and Mr. Gram are allowed aboard the train! Please hurry!”

  People got off the train, and we boarded, entering through a sliding wooden door. Smoke Haibaowed out the top of the train. I felt uncomfortable.

  “Take a seat Salan. The chair won’t bite, you know.”

  I exhaled before slowly sitting down. Golden brass poles went down the center of the car. The train car had a wooden overlay for an interior. There were red curtains along each window.

  “This is like the inside of a church,” I said.

  “Huh, I suppose it does Salan.”

  The train began to move at an alarming rate. I started to worry, gripping the chair. We were going faster than I had ever gone before.

  “Salan, it's supposed to go this fast. It’s powered from black tree wood. It doesn’t burn as long as coal, but it’s cheap. It burns brighter, so the train goes faster than normal. I just feel bad for the wood shoveler. That work is brutal on the body,” explained Mr. Gram.

  “How long before we reach the capital?”

  “It will take three hours. So, get comfortable. There will be news teams there as well. We’ll hurry into the courthouse where all of the 12 council members should be waiting.”

  I stood up and walked around the hallways, then opened the door and wind gusted between the carts.

  “You have to stay in this car Salan.”

  “Oh, OK.” I paced back and forth, not knowing what to do to kill time. Mr. Gram watched me, observing every move I made.

  “You can’t sit still, can you?”

  “When can I go back?”

  “This is about Sanoj isn’t it?” asked Mr. Gram.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “They can hide naturally Salan. Do you remember where you were when you split up?”

  “I was just down the mountain. It was on the outskirts of a poor area. The mountain top seemed like it was chopped off at the top.”

  “It's called Cut-Stone mountain. The land value is lower there due to hostile creatures.”

  “Does everything in this forest want to kill you?”

  “It’s notorious for its creatures being dangerous. Most of them are carnivorous. Bigger animals eat the smaller animals and so on. That’s why our forest here is so dense, not many herbivores. I’m surprised you survived. How long were you out there?”

  “About one week, and I barely survived. There was this creature that still scares me. It had the body of a scorpion’s stinger, legs of a spider, and the wings of a beetle. It was the size of my hand. One night I woke up in a cave alone with a swarm of them on me. One got me in the neck, and I started to hallucinate. Not only that, the venom made me incapacitated.”

  “Those creatures are called Terramites. They burrow into rocks and sleep during the day. They attack at night, and most don’t survive an attack unless they have an antidote to them. The only way to get that is from milking the venom of a Terramite tail. If you don’t die from them eating you, the poison will kill you. How did you survive?”

  “My friend Sanoj licked my wounds, and in the morning, I was healed. I owe him my life.”

  “Bastil’s have regenerative stem cells in their saliva glands; they replace the damaged and can heal many wounds. We still can’t recreate stem cells to heal soldiers. They used to catch them, but they refused to help us and half of the capture teams don’t make it back alive. They can hunt in family packs, and if one is hurt badly, two go back to heal while the others protect. If you meet one and injure it, you are advised to kill it quickly as they remember scents. They will smell your scent and come back to hunt you out of revenge. They will not stop hunting you until you are either back at civilization or dead.”

  Those creatures sounded terrifying, but when I thought of Sanoj, I could not believe that.

  “How did you talk to the 12 council members if we haven’t met them yet?” I asked.

  “There is an invention called a phone. It takes a delayed five seconds to call. It’s only accessible to the rich, and for major political reasons, the public doesn’t have access to it.”

  “So how does it work?”

  “You talk into one end with your mouth, and that sound is transferred over lines underground. These electric lines connect to each country's capital. They are still being built around the cities. There is another device for hearing at the other end. You must signify by saying, ‘stop’ so that they may start to speak. If you don’t you’ll overlap one another,” said Mr. Gram.

  “That impressive technology reminds me of my synthetic eye.”

  Mr. Gram stared at my green eye, then the blue one. He seemed confused.

&
nbsp; I pointed to my eye, “No, it’s the blue one, Mr. Gram.”

  “Oh, interesting. How did you get such a technology?”

  I had never told anyone about what happened in that facility. This was a person to tell more than anyone else.

  “While on the run from royal guards, I stopped by a bar for food. There was an old man who drugged me and took me into a facility. The facility had shock collars to keep us from escaping. There were treatments they gave us, to advance our Abundan power...” I took a deep breath trying to conduct a professional report. “I promised my friends that someone would hear what happened in that facility.” I began telling him the story and didn’t stop until I had told him every detail.

  The more I talked, the more Mr. Gram tensed up.

  “No kid should suffer like you did. I’m sorry Salan.”

  “Everything you need to know is in this journal.” I pulled out the journal and placed it on the table. “It’s from the Leader,” I said holding back my tears.

  He unbuttoned the journal. He flipped the pages very quickly. Looking out the window, I saw Minyades kids playing catch with each other.

  “Must be nice,” I muttered.

  I waited in silence for him to finish skimming the book, staring at other tree houses passing by.

  He closed the journal, “I’m glad I’m done because if I read any more I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “There’s more Mr. Gram. Those insects that you just read about could control an Abundan’s mind. My squad was the escape team. They all died during the escape. That doctor needs the DNA to get an obedient soldier. If he gets a group of Abundans…” I drifted.

  “That’s a terrifying discovery. Thank you for this journal Salan. I will hand it in as evidence to the 12 council members.”

  “The doctor left a taped message. Here listen to it,” I said.

  My hands shook as I handed him the tape and walked across the room. I cried but didn't show him. Tears poured down my face, but I did not make a sound. After the recording finished, Mr. Gram took a deep breath.

  “This is a lot to take in. Thank you Salan. It must have been tough to do this.”

  “That doctor is still alive Mr. Gram. He deserves to be buried with that facility. I couldn’t even give my friends a proper funeral.” My voice quivered as I continued. “There was a place I wanted to make with my girlfriend Cassiella. It was a place where no kid had to suffer like we did, a place where a child could call home. I wanted to work as a free agent Abundan and travel the world with her.”

  I grabbed the golden pole and bent the metal with my grip.

  “I have to say that you are a strong young man. Stronger than most adults I’ve met in a lifetime.”

  I glanced back, “Because of my powers?”

  “No, because of your strength of character.”

  “What good is that when everyone around me dies or leaves? I couldn’t even stay near Sanoj. I couldn’t help him.”

  “I cannot save the lives you lost in that facility or your mother, but I can save your friend Sanoj. He is alive and waiting for you. We’ll get through this case, and I’ll escort you back immediately. I’ve told those council members of your terms. We will negotiate for his safety.”

  “Are you doing this because it's part of your job?”

  “I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do.”

  I let go of the bar and walked back to sit down. Mr. Gram and I chatted for an extended period. I told him of my journey to civilization and what the guards did. Before I knew it, the train stopped.

  “EVERYONE OFF!” Shouted the conductor.

  We both left the train. Electronic fields were set up as a pathway. The pathway led to a massive building that was made of white marble. There was a golden trim design to the white columns. The top of the building had a golden statue of a Minyades blindfolded. He was holding up a hammer in one hand and a gavel in the other. As we went under the roof, there were two big black wooden doors with golden trim. The aggressive reporters were being zapped from the field.

  Guards were posted outside the doors and opened it for us. When we entered the doors shut behind me. The two inside guards quickly locked the doors with a wooden plank. I glanced at Mr. Gram.

  “Ordinary procedure for political emergencies, no need to worry,” he reassured.

  The room had bright lamps that hung along the walls. It had a gothic style. Decorative engravings covered the walls. The room was a work of art with an oval-shaped interior. There was a 10-meter-high desk that bent in front of us. 12 Minyades were sitting behind it. There were two chairs set up with one wooden desk for us. I had to crank my head up just to see the top of their heads. The light from the windows pointed towards the center desk. It felt worse than the interrogation room. I sat down with Mr. Gram.

  A golden Minyades’ bat wing jutted out on the left and the right. These overhung and stood out in the room. One of their faces was familiar. There at the far-left corner of the desk was Seraculus’ father.

  I pointed to the council member, “I know you!”

  “Silence! Show some respect for the courtroom Felis,” said a man from the far-right side.

  “Salan. It really is you!” Seraculus’ father stood up with joy.

  “I’m so glad you are alive. I couldn’t believe the phone call we received.”

  It felt weird to get praised by Seraculus’ father but right now, I needed all the help I could get.

  “That’s unprofessional of you to jump to such conclusions already. This boy is a Felis and cannot be trusted so easily.” said the old man on the far right.

  “This boy is innocent,” said Seraculus’ Father.

  “He allied himself with a Bastil, according to this report. Do you know the severity of such actions, Salan? Not only that, he concealed his Felis heritage with a hood. That’s against Mendaxia, our savior. Who knows where the Bastil is now,” the old man said sternly.

  The room went quiet. I spoke up, and my voice echoed throughout the room. “Sanoj is my friend, and he wouldn’t harm people. I instructed him not to.”

  “You gave the thing a name? Unbelievable, you see this is why…” started the old man.

  “Let them state their case!” Shouted Seraculus’ father. “I bet on this kid. He has pure intentions. I was almost late to this meeting because my daughter is so happy he is alive!”

  “All good sentiments but it seems your emotions cloud your judgment Tora,” said the man on the right.

  Tora started, “How dare you! I have–”

  “Silence both of you! Let his lawyer speak,” said a female in the center.

  Mr. Gram stood up and buttoned up his suit. He cleared his throat.

  “Thank you, Councilor. Now Salan here has told me one of the most heartbreaking stories I’ve ever heard – a story that no kid should ever go through. After the assassination of his mother, Salan was captured by a secret organization that kidnapped Abundan children at a young age. They injected treatments into Salan to make him more powerful. These treatments were experimental, and many of the children he grew up with died overtime due to such treatments. What’s more, a doctor in the facility developed Ovium insects that can take over the minds of an Abundan user. All it takes is their DNA, and he can control their minds,” explained Mr. Gram.

  “Preposterous! Mind control isn’t possible. We haven’t discovered that yet,” said the man on the right.

  Mr. Gram stuck his finger up, “Just because we haven’t discovered it doesn’t mean it hasn’t recently been invented. The doctor collaborated with Salan and his squad. In return for their help, they would escape as well. All the scientists died as well as the Abundans. All except for the doctor and Salan. The doctor escaped with this technology.”

  “How do we know you are telling the truth?” asked the woman in the center.

  “I have evidence to support my claim. Salan found the Leader’s notebook full of documentation of what occurred. I also have a recording from the do
ctor himself,” said Mr. Gram walking up and handing them the evidence.

  “Salan, you must have suffered a great deal. I’m sorry. I could only save my daughter during the hearing. I wish I could have saved you from your father’s tyranny,” explained Tora.

  “My father? I met him once. What does he have to do with this?” I asked.

  Tora leaned back, “Salan, do you not know who your father is?”

  I repeated myself, “I met him once what does he have to do with this?”

  “Salan, your father was the king of Faslow,” said Tora.

  16-The Bitter Truth

  “The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.”

  ― William Shakespeare

  My heart sank. How could that be possible? My father killed my mother? Why would he let my mother and I die? They were trying to fool me. I couldn’t trust the council members.

  “That makes no sense. You’re lying!” I shouted.

  “I’m sorry Salan. I thought you knew,” Mr. Gram said turning to me.

  “How can my father be the king? He killed my mother!” I screamed.

  “Salan, after I left with my family, I made a report to a Minyades’ spy to spread the word that Salan was the king’s son. I was the only one at the time who also knew. The queen soon sent people to confirm that your DNA matched the king’s to be sure. The blood they found in your washroom matched his,” explained Tora.

  “How can that man be my father! I hope that bastard dies!”

  “Salan, your mother had to keep this a secret for the king. That’s why he only visited once. If the people found out that the king had an impure child, it would go against the biggest Faslow law.”

  “Then why did he let my mom die!” I shouted back.

  Tora stood up, “Salan, I’m sorry. I was a counselor in Faslow. I bargained my Abomination daughter to be ignored by such laws if I kept this a secret. Your father was a good friend of mine, but power made him corrupt. He was forced into an organized marriage, and at one point did have feelings towards your mother.”