Iris

by Nick Whitesides

  The ceiling is completely light now. I keep my head down, stopping for breaks every couple of hours and eating to suppress the hunger. In the distance, wavy lines of hot air distort the surrounding environment.

  It only takes another hour before it comes into view. The white buildings spear upwards from the barren wasteland. Like gigantic bones marking a lifeless oasis in a lifeless desert. Breathlessly, I look upon it with mixed emotions of fear, resentment, and resolve. “I’m home.”

  Chapter 18 Homecoming

  Everett G. Trike was a brilliant man. You wouldn’t think so based on his apparel. Nothing in his photograph indicated any involvement with scientific studies. But it was he alone that developed the technology of the Sphere, before the aftermath of the nuclear wars.

  He stood only five feet, four inches tall with thin, dark hair and a bushy beard covering most of his neck. There’s only one picture of him inside the Triad. The only existing photograph, from nearly three hundred years ago. He smiles widely, standing next to three other men in dark suits. I can still see it in my mind.

  I wonder if he ever foresaw that one day his ideas would be used as tools of oppression. If he did know, would it have changed the outcome? Would he accept the future fate of the human race? Or would he see it as necessary like the Council does?

  The first Council was chosen after the Sphere was sealed. Their names are written in stone, etched onto the outside walls of the Cathedral. Maybe by the end of the day, those names will be erased; scorned by fire and wrath.

  Where did it all go wrong? I don’t think Trike had any idea what his inventions could do in the hands of other people. The BANDs, the Sphere, Pura, and IRIS. All his creations. We were never told the way or time that he died, though when I was still a child, I always thought his essence stayed somewhere out in this desert.

  Like an urban myth. A ghost from the past that lingered on, haunted by the mistakes of ten thousand yesterdays. I suppose it doesn’t matter now. Because I’m going to undo his legacy.

  The bright white skyline clusters together, almost taking the shape of a skull in the unsustainable wastes. The fields are only a mile long from the edge of the city outward, but encircle the entire perimeter. I’ll wait ‘til dark. It will be less guarded than anywhere else.

  Even this far away, the Cathedral stands tallest in the heart of Pura. A constant reminder of the duties as dependents. Not that ‘we’ didn’t need any more reminders. The faint outline of the tri-colored beacon is visible still at its top as darkness encroaches upon the unsuspecting city.

  I pick up the pace to a steady jog, my flimsy pack bouncing against my back. Thoughts of Leina penetrate my conscious. Her piercing sea-green eyes and golden hair. What could we have become? Did she ever feel something for me like I did her?

  When she saw me, did her heart ever race? An ear-splitting bang drops me to the ground with fear. Did someone spot me? Are they shooting at me? I wait a few seconds before lifting up my head.

  Barely able to see from this far, I squint to get a better look at the entrance to the fields. Blurry figures gesture to one another. I can’t tell if they’re talking or fighting. Grangers usually go home at this time of day. On all fours, I crawl carefully towards them.

  After a few minutes, I’m halfway between where I was and the dependents. Still wearing Eli’s jacket, I pull the black hood over my head to conceal myself. I hear voices shouting. Only bits and pieces at first until I get closer.

  “You sold us out!”

  “I did what I had to! They’re always watching and sooner or later they would have known,” admits a younger man to an older couple.

  “We’ll be sent to Cleansing because of this!” the woman shrieks.

  Their BANDs light up in the dark with a bright flash of red. “We trusted you! We risked everything for you and now we’ll have nothing!”

  The older man, dressed in his dirty work clothes, grapples with the younger. They grunt and groan, fighting each other off. In less than a minute, they’re both on the ground seizing from the electric shock.

  I dart behind a nearby tiller, shrinking down to hide myself. The older woman, crying hysterically, watches the Atlases come from a nearby station, screaming as they approach. The same scream I heard when Jaak terrified his victim the night I met Eli.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stick up, my nervous system activating the fight or flight response. If I expose myself now, it could ruin any chance of destroying the Host Server. Are three lives out of a hundred thousand worth jeopardizing this?

  “Should we wait for the SIO’s?” asks one, the flashing red reflecting off his blue uniform. “They can drag ‘em away, but let’s do sentencing now.”

  Sentencing? Only the Council can sentence. They both hold up their BANDs, which shine with a white light and announce, “As Atlases of Pura, we have municipal power given by the Council to sentence any unfit dependent to Cleansing, without question.”

  All Atlases can sentence Cleansing? That’s insane!

  She continues to cry and then collapses, convulsing from BAND paralysis. It’s too late now. The first sentry presses an icon on his screen and holds it close.

  “This is field sentry Terus, requesting pickup. Three dependents, all guilty and sentenced to Cleansing.”

  “Hold on!” interrupts a dominating voice. Another BAND light runs at the sentries.

  “I’m requesting delayed sentencing for these grangers and endow them with temporary immunity.”

  Both sentries grumble with perturbed exhalations.

  “Terus, Jaspre.”

  “How many times do we need to tell you? We don’t need an SIO out here.”

  A slim figure in a charcoal gray uniform materializes from the darkness. “My name is Leina, thank you, and I’m not here to be your birth-giver, I’m here to ensure there’s no improper use of Atlas authority due to the high number of Cleansings this past month.”

  Each of them puff up in a blatant display of intimidation. “This is our duty, SIO. You have yours. Scurry back to the Triad while we take these unfit dependents to the Cathedral.”

  “As a second class SIO, I outrank you, sentry.”

  A quick WARNING flashes across their BANDs.

  “I can send my report with or without your cooperation. Either way, these three are under my jurisdiction as of this moment and any violation of sentry duties, will result in your immediate sentence to Cleansing.”

  There’s another flash from their screens. They look at each other and walk toward the checkpoint with bitter dispositions.

  I crouch out from behind the tiller once they’re well out of sight. She examines each BAND from the fallen grangers and disables the paralysis.

  “You’re going to be all right,” she reassures them.

  The younger immediately scrambles to his feet and runs to the checkpoint. The other two suppress tears of thankfulness. As she stands, helping them up, I’m unable to stop myself from running to meet her. Her head jerks back at me, my stomps digging into the hardened terrain.

  “Stop!” she commands, beaming her BAND light at me.

  I slow my pace and skid to a halt.

  “Don’t move!”

  I gently pull off the black hood, not saying a word.

  The light sweeps forward, her slow paces moving with wistful calculations.

  What must she be thinking? Is she surprised? Glad? Angry? Was this the right decision?

  The brightness illuminates her features as her arm lowers, a blank expression adorning her face.

  Apprehension bubbles to the surface of my skin, drowning out my confidence as I consider her every possible reaction. Her lips part but nothing is said, with eyes fixed upon me while the last bit of sunlight sinks down, leaving only her BAND for luminescence.

  “Leina… it’s me.” It’s impossible to tell what her intentions are. What if she was tortured? What if she blames me for it? This was a mistake. I have to leave.

  A noise shatters the quiet. “Wha
t is it?” The two grangers have left while two other lights in the distance run at us. As she turns to greet the returning sentries, I pull the hood back over my head and stealth away.

  It takes a few seconds before I notice that I don’t hear anything. My footsteps make no sound! As long as I’m not running, I can move fairly quick without drawing attention to myself. I move away from the lights, ducking under tillers and UV panels alike.

  “We heard you yelling about something,” one of the sentries adds.

  There’s a long pause before Leina responds. “Yeah, the younger granger took off. I thought he was trying to run away, that’s why I yelled.”

  She lied.

  The doubt is apparent in the sentries’ rebuttals.

  “Then where are they? Why didn’t you detain them?”

  Uh oh, this is bad. If they out her, it’s straight to Cleansing.

  “Who do you report to, SIO?”

  As I lay down flat on the ground, I focus all my concentration on listening.

  “I told you, I outrank you both—”

  “—You’re a second class SIO as you previously stated, which means you have a commanding superior in first class. Now, tell us who you report to before we file an injunction of authority.”

  “Injunction of authority? I’m not some level-entry field sentry, Terus. If you want to file an injunction, then we can let the Council decide.”

  He lets out a wry chuckle. “You might outrank us, Leina, but the word of two sentries holds more weight to the Council then that of one SIO.”

  What should I do? I could try to sneak behind and take them out? But what about Leina? Her GPS would be enough evidence to incriminate her. She’s on her own for now. She ejects a loud sigh of exhaustion and says

  “First class SIO, Brutus.” An electronic beep sounds from one of their BANDs.

  “This is sentry Jaspre requesting com with first class SIO Brutus to file an injunction of authority against second class SIO Leina.”

  “What?” she responds with a trembling voice.

  “We’re sick of you interfering with our duties. Since you outrank us, we’ll get a first class to undo your temporary immunity and sentence you straight to Cleansing, you traitor,” sneers Terus coldly.

  “Request is granted. Com will commence in ten seconds,” comes a voice from the BAND. If they notify Brutus, then Leina is dead no matter what I do.

  Having made up my mind, I sneak around the two of them with soundless footsteps. I only have ten seconds, I have to make this fast. As I crouch only a few feet away, the numbers begin counting down. “Ten… nine… eight…”

  I sprint toward Terus first and sweep his legs out from behind. Unprepared for the blow, a few bones crack from the strength of my kick as he crumbles down, his head bouncing against the stony dirt.

  Next, I leap at Jaspre and punch him in the throat. He doubles over, hands grabbing at his neck; letting out an awful wheeze. I return to Terus who lays stunned, but conscious still.

  I swing my fist hard against his temple and knock him out. Jaspre coughs, trying to clear his airway. I spin around and hit him with a kick to the face, rendering him motionless next to his comrade. “. . .Two… One… Com request complete.”

  I kneel down by the unconscious body and pick up its arm. “This is first class SIO Brutus, what is the reason for injunction?”

  I take a deep breath before answering. “T-This is Jaspre. There is no further need for injunction.”

  A long static pause emits from the other side as I wait apprehensively. “Understood. Injunction will be cancelled. Com disconnected.”

  I close my eyes and drawn in a full breath of air as Leina rushes to the sentries and resyncs their BANDs.

  “I thought you were dead.” Her voice is monotone.

  “Leina…” I slowly stand back up.

  “Just like Jathom. I thought you were dead.”

  I freeze, letting myself replay the full scene, feeling the unfiltered sorrow.

  “It’s my fault he’s dead,” I explain remorsefully, unsure if I meant to say so about Jathom or Eli. “That’s why I came back. To put an end to it all.”

  I turn to the checkpoint and sigh. It’s time to end it.

  “How did you survive?” she asks with a hint of sincerity, still kneeling on the ground.

  Refusing to look in her eyes, I back away from her, holding up the stump. “I didn’t.”

  Since the fields need water for irrigation, I should be able to get past the checkpoint through the sewers. Kicking the ground, I eventually hit something hard and durable. The top is rigid with small metal grooves. This will be my way back in.

  I pull out Kalen’s knife and wedge it in between the covering outline. Pulling up hard, the manhole begins to move as I slide it off its set place. I can scarcely make out a ladder mounted into the wall. Here we go.

  I descend down into the cylindrical maze, moving cautiously to avoid any injury to my arm. Landing with a small thud, I splash water on myself. The passage turns left just a few feet from the ladder. I take it and travel to where I think Jathom’s old apartment is from here.

  With zero visibility, I use my hand for a guide, patting the slimy surface. My feet are soaked as water seeps in through the cracks of my shabby boots. In only a short time, my eyes adjust. I see the outline of the circular walls.

  Suddenly, the singular path splits off into two directions. I visualize my position, having kept track of where Pura sits and where I am now.

  “It’s to the right for sure.” The tunnel winds around a few times before coming to a dead end. “Crap!”

  Stay calm Krys. If you panic, that will only make things worse. You’ll find a way out. Retracing my steps as best I can, leads me to an unfamiliar intersection with four possible choices.

  I’m definitely lost, and the water has risen up to my knees. I pick up my pace, splashing as I run down the echoey chamber with little caution, nearly slamming into a wall as I turn.

  Before I can react, I lose my footing and slip onto my back; smacking my elbow hard. A half-scream half-gargle blares out under the water. I come out still yelling in pain, rubbing my arm.

  The cry rebounds back at me like the vague shrill of a ghastly figure waiting to escort me to my grave. This just might be mine. A strange noise trills in the distance, emanating back and forth throughout the ducts.

  It’s getting closer. What is that? Closer still. Then I recognize it. Water, lots and lots of water; rushing at me like a wild stampede. Like lightning, I bolt up and run with all my might but I’m losing ground. If I run into another dead end, it really will be a dead end.

  I almost laugh out loud from the absurdity of such a misplaced idea. I take a left at the next fork, the water nipping at my heels. I can’t keep this up! Just then, I spot the shape of another ladder at the far end of the next corridor.

  Once I’m close enough, I vault up at it and climb upwards to the sealed top. I manage to move up one step when the water slams into me full force. My legs are knocked off, leaving only my right hand to keep me from being washed out.

  Within seconds, the entire chamber fills to the brim. The current nearly rips my grip off the ladder, then loses its push just enough to allow me back onto the step. I wrap around them and ascend inch by inch.

  My lungs are at the point of bursting as I reach the top and gasp; coughing up sewage that went straight into my airway. I rest for a few minutes then pull out the knife, working to open the manhole. At one point, I nearly drop it but slam my stump against the wall to catch it. It takes me almost twenty minutes to pry it off without any leverage.

  Once the cover gives way, I push it off and climb out, sopping wet and dripping onto the finely pressed pavement of Pura’s streets. The dependents should be inside for curfew, except for a few Atlases. I scan the skyline for the Cathedral as I emerge.

  The detour drove me further away then I wanted. But, it’s only half a mile from the apartments. It’s easier to avoid the sentries than
the Blooders due to the glow of their BANDs. But the squishing of my boots, compromises my stealth and speed, evening out my advantage.

  Finally I arrive, looking up at the window I jumped from, the glass having been replaced since then. The Council have made so many changes, I hope I’m not wrong. The south entrance is a thick glass door. If it’s anything like the Triad doors, they won’t break easily.

  The Triad was on lockdown at the time, disabling manual entry. I swivel my eyes around to make sure no one sees me, then open it. The empty stairwell veils me in shadow as I scale up to the top floor. In order for this to work. I need Trenton.

  Quietly, I undo the lock and sneak in. The room is completely rebuilt, with no sign of the previous struggle; but the layout is the same. Fridge to the left, kitchen to the right, and the living room at the far end. In the corner, is the bed where Trenton is slumbering, hopefully unaware.

  His torso rises and falls in a steady rhythm. The window gives me enough light from the city to see his face. With knife in hand, I reach out and place the edge of the blade against his jugular. His eyes shoot open and his body jerks up with a startling yelp.

  “Shh. Be quiet, Trenton, or I’m going to have to use this,” I warn, pressing the fine steel into his skin. Immediately he lays back down.

  “Who are you?” he pinches his nose, his countenance betraying the tranquil tone.

  “I’m going to need you to take me to your auto,” I reply, ignoring his query. “Get up, and if you make a sound without my say so… I’ll stick this in your gut and spill your entrails.”

  There’s a flash of red from his BAND, the barbarity of my threat being enough to persuade him to cooperate. We travel out the door, through the hallway and back down the stairwell toward the garage.

  “What’s your name?” Trenton braves to ask me. I have my forearm against the back of his neck and the knife against the front.

  “Shut up,” I dismiss forcefully.

  “You’re obviously not a dependent or you’d be paralyzed, which means you must have come from…” He pauses and stops at the bottom in front of the door.