Iris

by Nick Whitesides

  Large hands pick me up and drag me backwards. “How could you?” The last words I will ever speak to him as I no longer have a choice and let them take me away.

  All the while, I stare at the device with impeding despair. I’m thrown into a blank white room, just like the one I stayed in after the field incident. No pain or suffering compares to the crippling dread and the choking despair of returning to my mental captivity.

  Once again, I am a slave. But as long as I live, they can never take away what I know. Hours pass but my gaze remains unbroken. Hunger eludes me, even when a pack of SIO’s enter and summon food from the center of the room. I refuse to eat, but instead crush a handful of strawberries until they bleed out every drop of juice and write on the wall.

  When the next patrol comes, their eyes yield to the bright red words behind me. PURA NEEDS CLEANSING.

  Chapter 22 Requiem

  Jathom used to give snippets of the awful rumors he had heard about Cleansing. Pain so excruciating, so inhumane, that it makes grown men weep like infants. Mental anguish that drives a person beyond insanity, until they beg for death as a release.

  Emotional suffering to break the soul of any resolve or disobedience. It was deemed necessary to purge all unnatural desires out of any dependent who was worthy of it. A second chance to assimilate into the ways of dependency, as long as their commitment to IRIS upholds.

  The Council has never pardoned any surviving dependent. Whatever the rumors I’ve heard, they come nowhere near close enough to explain its exquisite barbarity. I’ve passed out quite a few times now from the pain. It’s difficult to say just how I’m still alive, but it’s excruciating.

  The first day was focused on the physical. Breaking bones and restoring them, only to break once more. Flesh tears as my skin is ripped off and the muscles cut into little pieces. But when I looked at my arm, expecting to see it mangled and deformed, it is whole still.

  Only fifteen percent of dissenters survive the process. I know because the man responsible for all my suffering told me so, he’s a pacificator. There’s only one in all of Pura, one of the members of the Council in fact, he’s name is Nixh; though I didn’t see much of him.

  I was brought into a dark room with no colors. I didn’t think it was possible to be void of all that is good. If hell really does exist, according to Eli’s books, it was modeled after this room. Words fail to bring understanding to the astonishing level of misery inflicted upon anyone sentenced to such a punishment.

  I’m not sure when I’m conscious or having a nightmare or even how much time has passed. Has it been weeks? Months? Or maybe even years. When I see Nixh I ask, “How long have I been here?”

  His face creeps up a disturbing smile. “Why, Krys, we only just started.” Then it’s pain again. Nothing else exists expect pain. I’m on fire, my body burning to a crisp, then freezing to death as the chill deadens every nerve. Then my lungs fill with water. I can’t breathe!

  Then, thousands of needles stick into every orifice of every pore on my skin. When I wake up, I’m exhausted; strapped down to a table with strange people looking down at me. Everything is out of focus and blurry. I don’t like the way they stare.

  “Don-d-don’t loo’ a’me,” I mumble, trying to lift my head. A company of hands force my head down.

  “He’s coming back.”

  “Again? Give him another dose.” A sharp pain in my chest and I fall back into the constant state of torture. I don’t wake up again for a long time until my eyes are forced open and I gasp for air. Covered in sweat, my bare body drips like a soaked sponge.

  “Good morning,” Nixh says with a disturbingly satisfied tone. “You’ve done impressively well, Krys. You survived the first day.” His voice is harsh in my ears. “In fact, you have a visitor.”

  Looking up into the lights of the ceiling I hear another familiar voice. “Thank you, esteemed member.” It’s him, Kalen. “I’ve come to see if the subject will consider making a deal.”

  I won’t speak to him. Not ever again. “I’ll leave you to it,” Nixh says and I hear the door close.

  He comes into view and looks down as I lay prostrate. I can’t move my head but I refuse to look him in the eye. For a while he is silent, almost humble, then I feel a gentle stroking atop my head. Curious, I dare to look at him directly and see his eyes welling up with tears.

  His shaky voice struggles to obtain sufficient control to speak clearly. “My boy… what have they done to you?”

  I squint my eyes, even more curious. “I’m so sorry, Krys. So sorry.”

  I stare blankly, waiting for him to give me answers. “I wish I could tell you everything,” he says, removing his hand.

  “But there’s not much time left. I’ve been speaking with the Council, and they want you to reconsider.”

  I manage to shake even while restrained. “No,” I respond hoarsely, my voice almost gone from all the screaming.

  “Krys, please. I don’t want to see you die, that’s why I agreed to this. Leaving you alone was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. But I had to, the Council threatened to kill you if I didn’t return to fulfill my duties. Give them what they want and you’ll be pardoned. Not only that, you can take my place on the Council. You can live, son. I need you to live.” To hear him call me son is bittersweet at best.

  How can I be sure any of this is real? What if it’s a part of the next step in Cleansing? Or is this just another lie played out by an expert manipulator?

  “I don’t want to ‘live’ like this,” I answer firmly.

  He pierces me with those eyes I knew so well, then nods his head and swallows. “You’ve become your own man.” His voice quivers, choking on his emotions as he grabs my hand. “I want you to know how proud I am. I was worried for so long that the things I taught you weren’t taking root. But you proved me wrong. And yes…” He weeps bitterly now. “I meant every word.”

  His BAND alarm goes off. “Time’s up. The Council need me to report your answer. Be strong, son. Be strong,” he encourages and squeezes my fingers briefly before exiting the room.

  I don’t know what to think. I don’t know who to trust. But what does it matter now? I’ll be killed either way. At least this way I get to die as a thorn in the Council’s side.

  I close my eyes and drift away. When I open them again, I’m laying down on a golden field and looking up at the most beautiful blue sky. Just a short distance away is a lake with the clearest water. I hear, laughing. Leina. She’s sitting next to me.

  I see Eli, walking up to us with arms crossed; beaming at us admiringly. Then, Lucilla, Vae, and Adaam run past him chasing each other. Maxis chases after them playfully while Alvah watches, rolling her eyes.

  Jathom walks up from behind Eli and pats his shoulders, followed by Kalen who all smile at me. I can’t help but return the gesture with fond sincerity. This is perfect. I never want to leave. I embrace Leina and put my arm around her shoulder.

  Looking at my forearm, I’m alarmed to see my hand has been cut off, leaving a stump. All at once the blue sky turns pitch black, the fields of gold wither into brown decay and Leina disappears right before my eyes. Disoriented, I stand up and accidentally kick something on the ground, it’s Eli; laying motionless while Jaak makes him into “art.”

  Adaam and Vae lay at my feet while Lucilla stands in front of me, her shirt slowly turning red as falls helplessly into my arms again. Maxis and Alvah scream as a pack of Blooders rush by, slaughtering them with rusty utensils.

  But worst of all, Kalen draws the black combat knife and stabs Jathom right in the heart. This goes on for eternity. Reliving these distorted nightmares until I begin to adapt, numbing myself from their effect which then tortures me with guilt.

  So I make myself think them in order to show that I do in fact care about these people. The pictures become more and more gruesome as this loop continues over and over and over and over; eroding my ever sense of existence.

  Before I can witness anymore of
the awful scene, I’m awakened suddenly. “You can’t do this! We’re not done,” Nixh is shouting.

  “These orders come from the Council, sir.”

  “So the majority motioned to accelerate. What a waste,” Nixh says, unstrapping me from the table. “We could have saved his soul.”

  It begins to lift forward, sliding me down as it tilts vertically, my legs unable support my weight. Before I fall, hands grab my dangling arms and half drag me out of the room. “What’s happening?” I ask grumbly.

  “It’s time for your execution,” one of them answers.

  “What? Why now?”

  Using their BANDs, they ping the scanner and bring me inside an elevator. “I don’t know.”

  With a familiar whoosh, we zoom upwards and then stop suddenly. SIO’s escort me to the entrance of the Cathedral. I chuckle with a Maxis type grin when I see the burnt interior of the first floor. The glass has been replaced but most of the second level caved in, leaving a gaping hole where the ceiling should be.

  Looking through it, I see where the flames climbed up before they were snuffed out. As we exit the front, I’m blinded by midday’s stinging light. Not a sound is heard except for the scraping of my feet against the smooth surface.

  I’m marched up a collapsible staircase and up onto a steel stage wrapping around the Cathedral. It’s large enough to fit the entire Council, the execution squad, and of course… me.

  Everyone in the city will be in attendance. They always force us to watch when a criminal is killed. To set an example. Grangers, merchants, Atlases, everyone. Even birth-givers and their infants must attend, to watch me get shot.

  The Council members are lined up in a row, adorning their ever white uniforms, each sitting on identical seats as before. Only, there is an empty seat at the very end furthest from me, along with the six remaining members of the execution squad, each holding a long-barreled rifle.

  Once the guards reach the top of the stairs, they throw me down hard.

  “Get up,” demands Cornelus with a sour intonation.

  Channeling Eli’s last moments, I decide to die standing under my own strength, just like he did. All of Pura watches patiently as I struggle to stand, like a toddler learning to walk. There were many times I had to do the same.

  When the time comes, they can look away if they want, being present while it happens is enough. “If you’re not one of us, you die.” I’m not one of them anymore.

  I push hard until I can slide my leg underneath myself for leverage. Once I have decent footing, I stop to catch my breath. Then, with great difficulty, push myself erect. The sea of dependents expands outward, filling up the square and the first block of the priory.

  Alien faces linger on me with emotionless expressions, waiting to carry on with their duties like any normal day. I still can’t quite catch my breath but I won’t let myself fall. Not even at the end.

  “Welcome dependents of Pura,” erupts Cornelus’s voice from every BAND, even my own. He takes a few steps forward towards the edge of the stage. “On this, the ninth day of the fifth month in the year 2340; each of us gathers together as dependents of this city, one and all.”

  Wait, if that’s right, then. . .that means today, I have twenty-two years of life. “Happy birthday, Krys,” I mutter under my breath.

  “As such, we have congregated to witness the execution of the most dangerous criminal that this, our sacred city, has ever had.”

  A few disapproving boos moan out of the SIO’s corralled in the front of the massive horde. Cornelus waves away their displeasure with a patronizing tone.

  “He has deliberately broken IRIS time after time with no regard for our way of life. He has resisted and assaulted federal Atlases, committed grievous acts of terror by damaging our sacred Cathedral and even caused the deaths of nearly a dozen dependents total.”

  Now the crowd roars with objection as numerous BANDs flash. “I understand your displeasure fellow dependents but please, do not lower yourselves to such depravity. But let us seek patience. However, given the circumstances, any violations during this procedure, with the exception of violence, will be pardoned effective immediately.”

  What? Why is that even necessary? What are they planning?

  “Now, let us continue, for these heinous acts must be dealt with accordingly.”

  I don’t understand. Why interrupt my Cleansing for this? At this point, two SIO’s escort the last member to his seat while Cornelus dictates.

  “For surely, such crimes could never be pardoned unless extenuating circumstances were presented.”

  There’s a slight glance out of his peripherals as he emphasizes this last sentence. Of course! It’s so obvious. They think that by speeding up my execution. I’ll be more willing to comply.

  In response, I shake my head ever so slightly; just enough so that he can see. They don’t understand. I don’t want an out. I don’t want to be pardoned. I want it to stop.

  His lips purse as he pauses to compose himself, and then continues. “I want to impress upon us all, the extreme importance of obedience. IRIS, its laws, regulations, and protocols, were created to shield us. To protect us from the decaying influence of mortal corruption. Mankind could not be trusted to govern themselves. If left to make our own decisions, we would inevitably fall into ruin. Our ancestors left us with as much, so why would we think ourselves any different. It is in our nature to destroy and lust and hate. And if anyone among us, is not willing to adhere to these rules as explained…” with hands behind his back, he turns directly at me, “then you have no place among us.”

  I see. If I’m not aiding, then I’m hurting; which makes me expendable. I let my pride show as I square my shoulders with insolence, reaffirming my decision with silent protest.

  “Let this be an example to us all. It is by our recurring steadfastness that this city and its people, continue to thrive. And until we all learn to truly dominate the rebellious nature of our carnal state, this will always be necessary.”

  His own BAND shines brightly as he holds it up with determination and cries, “We thrive together or die together!” Tens of thousands of dependents shout this out with him. He lowers the device and shoots me a smug look as he returns alongside the other Council members.

  I can see why he was selected to become one of them. His devotion to IRIS is unmatched. Each of them had to prove their unrelenting faithfulness to be considered for the position. I wonder what Kalen had to do in order to verify his loyalty?

  “You may speak your last words,” Cornelus says from his seat. My BAND pings as the image of a microphone appears on the screen.

  Looking out at the multitude of dependents, a crushing sense of failure grips my heart. It’s surprising how they look past me and not at me. Opening my mouth, I say the first thing that comes to mind.

  “I’m sorry,” repeats all throughout the city streets. Not expecting such a statement, they examine me with looks of mild confusion. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t set you free.”

  Nearly every face that I can make out, perks up. The young, the old, men, and women alike. If only they knew. If only they could understand that there’s a better way.

  “This isn’t thriving, this isn’t even living. The Council wants you to believe that this is the only way, existence in exchange for total dominance. It’s not true.”

  I can almost feel the Council’s angry glares burning into my skin like a hot knife. “And yes, there is some truth to what they speak. I have seen the outside world. And I have witnessed horrors that you could not bear to hear. Human beings do lust and hate and kill, but they also love and forgive and grow. Each of us is certainly capable of great evil, but then that can only mean we are equally capable of great good! Good that is worth fighting for, even worth dying for.” I scowl at them, unashamed, and watch as they squirm in their seats, save one.

  It must be so upsetting that they’ll never know what I know. “I am going to die today and I hope you remember my face. I hope it ha
unts you in your sleep. I hope that your conscious is burdened with merciless disgrace as I’m killed before you. I wanted to give you back your minds and help you find your hearts, because I couldn’t find mine alone. Then, I came to believe you didn’t deserve it, and so I sought to destroy IRIS and leave you to destroy yourselves.”

  The crowd listens intently as everything grows silent. “We’ve all seen monstrous things. But that doesn’t mean we have to become monsters.”

  My heart aches with a profound sense of mourning for them all. Is this how Eli saw me? “I learned that we have a choice. That we should have a choice. And to remove that choice is to remove any reason to live. Yes, darkness resides in all of us. Yes, we are capable of evil. Yes, we have impulses to do unspeakable things, but we. . . can. . . CHOOSE! We don’t have to be like our ancestors. We don’t have to destroy. We can create something beautiful from the ashes of this ruined world. We could make things different.”

  Each word is like a new idea that I’m discovering at the same time it’s being said. Some unforeseen energy seems to guide me as I verbalize thoughts that have never been uttered in Pura before. The faces in the crowd have changed from stony to tender. But my eyes can barely stay open anymore.

  “I want you all to know—” I stagger backwards but remain standing. These will be my last words. I want them to be engraved in their minds. “—I used to hate you. I used to despise you and everything this city means. But as I stand before you today—” unexpected tears flow, “I weep for you, because I was you. Because I now know the untapped potential residing in each and every one of you. Above all else that I have learned, I know we can truly thrive together, without having to die together.”

  The terrified looks of the Council tells all. The damage has been done.

  It doesn’t matter if I die now. They know as well as I do, you cannot kill an idea. If you plant it just right, eventually that idea will become a belief. And when that belief is strong enough, it will compel you to act. And through actions, we make changes until we find out who we really are. Eli taught me that.