Kara, bitter over the revolutionaries’ ignorance, attempted to calculate in her mind. These idiots! If only they knew that we have the code… If only they waited just a few more days… If only they gave us a chance to go to Imperium first and open the Gate… How many lives might be spared! How much toil, bloodshed and heartache might be avoided! But alas, if I speak of the code now, I risk blowing our cover… there may very well be a traitor here in this very room! A few words to the wrong person would be all that it would take to doom the mission. Their lives… their deaths… will be a diversion without which we may not be able to reach the Gate. I cannot let their deaths be in vain… but how can I just let them die unnecessarily. How can I possibly attempt a calculation when so many lives weigh in the balance… the thousands of revolutionaries… the hundreds of thousands of imprisoned souls… The summation of the product of quantity times quality? But I must consider it with respect to time… I must consider the future of our posterity… How can I even begin to approach this rationally?!
It was Maggie, however, that was the most conflicted. The enthusiastic chants, the tactical drudgery, the numerous stratagems, the gratuitous expletives, the blatant bravado, the back-slapping garble of fraternity… All of it became but a distant, displaced backdrop to her—slow, foreign drones, independent, incessant and inescapable. She heard the deathless warrior cries from an imaginary battlefield. She saw the spilled blood of thousands, the worried and wearied faces of families, the tear-stricken eyes of children. Peering at the faces around her she perceived imperfect but inimitable, consummate souls—the likes of which the Universe had but singular copies. Each death tragic. Each loss irreplaceable.
And above the sea of casual revolution her heart soared—rising up from her, beating, breathing. And from the hazy mist of her mind, through the ambiguity of tortured reasoning, came the inescapable yearning to act—to affect the world, to change the course of history, to save lives. This was, she believed, the reason for her existence. A surge of purposefulness filled her lungs, but it was the mind that had to turn the air to words—words so profoundly significant that its mere utterance would hold life-changing ramifications for thousands of souls.
She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. The sea closed in around her. She struggled against the waves, against the doubt, the indecision. How can something that feels so right be wrong? Now is the moment. My whole life boils down to this. Fear of regret, frustration with inaction, depression from passivity, passion for probity—all engulfed her at once. I am at the fulcrum of history. I have been instructed not to speak… but I must. In the end, I am the one who must make my own decisions. Each life… good and evil… I must do what I believe is right… I cannot ask anything more from myself… This is why I’m here. Now is the moment! I can’t… I shouldn’t… but I must!
“We have the code! We have sequenced Toxicodendron radicans!” she cried cathartically. She threw herself upward as if bewitched by a transfiguring saintly spirit.
“Maggie!” Ember, Sven and Kara shouted in unison. Ember attempted to pull her down by her shirt, but it was too late, the world had heard.
The crowd paused to contemplate the words and then, almost at once, stood up and descended into a frenzy of a dubious nature. There were pockets of passion, splotches of ecstasy, sections of uncertainty, areas of frustration, and corners of confusion—all of which amalgamated into a heterogeneous but cohesive whole. Sprinkled about the totality was a generous helping of spirited debate and hearty exclamations… For a while it was unclear what emotion would dominate, but in the end it was ecstasy that won out.
As they swarmed around them, Kara and Sven noted the body of man who was going in the opposite direction, for the exit. It was Daryl. His eyes were bugged out, and his face was worn with worry and bewilderment. Kara had wanted to confront him, but amidst the chaos and confusion of the crowd, she couldn’t manage to get his attention before he left, let alone get up and follow after him.
They were instant celebrities. Since it was Maggie that first reported the news it was naturally assumed that she knew the most about it and therefore it was her who received the most questions. They did not know the answers to the vast majority of questions, but even if they did, they wouldn’t have said anything. Maggie in particular was uncomfortable with the queries. She felt bad enough for divulging the great secret, the attention only made her feel worse.
Though they were sitting proximal to each other, they were so swarmed by people and inquiries that none of them had the opportunity to consult one another. Their answers, however, were more or less the same—“I don’t know,” “No comment,” or, “I can’t say.” Despite the predictability of response and the repetitiveness of the questions, the deluge continued unabated for another half hour.
When Kara stood up, the crowd roared against her, holding her down by her shoulders, insisting that she stay longer. Kara screamed and pleaded with the throng and only after it became abundantly clear that she was being held against her will, did they relent. Kara grabbed Sven, who in turn motioned to Ember and Maggie, and together they waded slowly through the crowd to the exit.
As the crowd spilled out of the large seminar room, the focus shifted away from Kara, Sven, Maggie and Ember, and onto the implications of the revelation.
“This changes everything!”
“If I’m being totally honest, I wasn’t looking forward to fighting…”
“This is it!”
“They won’t know what hit ‘em.”
A few of the more diligent revolutionaries hovered uncomfortably around Kara, Sven, Maggie and Ember, evidently determined to not let them out of their sight.
“You know,” an older gentleman said, “you should have told us earlier. We could have provided expertise, and protection.”
“Uhh… Ya, I suppose we should have,” Kara said, scanning over the outpour of people for unknown reasons.
“Well that’s okay,” he said cheerfully, “but you do know that we won’t be able to allow you to return home tonight.” Though the man himself was not physically intimidating, by his side were four threatening younger revolutionaries with contrasting serious faces. The older man placed his hand lightly on Kara’s shoulder and laughed, “Don’t take it personally Ma’am… You have to understand where we are coming from… We got to make sure that you are safe…”
“Uhhh… okay…” Kara said, still scanning the crowd.
“It’s not that we don’t trust you… It’s just that… protocol is protocol. There’s a lot riding on this, you know?”
“Uhh… Ya… sure… whatever.”
“Are you okay?”
At last Kara found the object she did not know she was looking for. It was Daryl. He was standing left of the stream of people, with upright posture and focused eyes, as if he were trying to hunt something. Their eyes met coldly, and for one hideous second all was understood. From between the heads of the crowd, Kara, to her terror, saw Daryl extend his arm and limply point in their direction. She saw the cruelty in his eyes and watched as his lips parted, but did not wait around to hear what they had to say.
“We have to go?” she said to the old man.
“What?!”
“We have to go?!” she repeated, but with greater urgency and this time to Sven, Maggie and Ember. “We have to go!” She grabbed Sven’s arm and ran to the right of the stream of people. Ember and Maggie followed. The perplexed old man, remained behind, dumbfounded.
Sven plowed through the crowd, scattering people to the sides and knocking others to the ground in his wake. “Go! Go! Gooo!!” Kara screamed. People became no more than frustrating obstacles that stood in the way, and Sven tore through them as such. Before long they had parted from the crowd and were running down the alleyway. No sooner had they made the first right that they encountered Styles and Luna.
Styles peered at them coldly, murderously. His appearance and vicious, homicidal gaze so caught them off guard that they stopped dead in th
eir tracks. Their hearts, which were already beating fast, beat even faster. Maggie gasped for air.
“I… I’m… I… I… didn’t… I’m… sorry,” she muttered.
Styles advanced towards her and grabbed her viciously by the wrist, and, for a while, seemed intent on killing her. Her quick, shallow breaths, arrested altogether.
“We… have to…” Kara started to explain unnecessarily.
Turning back around, Styles yanked Maggie forward, and started sprinting down the alley. Maggie stumbled ungracefully, desperately trying to keep pace with Styles who was still gripping her hand. Kara, Ember and Luna had no problem keeping up, but Sven had some difficulty fitting between the narrow constrictions of the various corridors. For another twenty minutes they ran in this fashion.
It wasn’t until they got to an open expanse that Styles let go of Maggie’s hand. He came to a stop at the perimeter of buildings, and put his arm out to halt the others. Ember, Maggie, and Sven panted heavily. Sven, who was particularly tired, bent forward with his hands on his knees, his sweat dripping from his long black hair.
About one hundred yards out was an enormous gaping chasm, around which no other structures were built. Styles brought a finger to his lips to indicate to them to be quiet, and then pointed gravely in the direction of the chasm. Ember looked at Maggie in disbelief. He patted her on the shoulders gently, but she was too frenetic to make anything of it. Styles waited until everyone caught his or her breath and then ran out in full sprint to the chasm.
Though Ember had wanted to hold his sister’s hand, it soon became obvious that such an effort would be counter-productive. Styles led the group by a growing distance, but Luna wasn’t too far behind. Next came Ember and then Kara, followed by Maggie and Sven in the distance. Ember slowed down to let Maggie catch up with him, but at no point did he stop out-right.
Ember could hear the sickening crackle of the gunfire from behind him and instinctually sped back up to full speed. The disturbing thought of a bullet piercing his back preoccupied his mind, blocking out any fatigue he might have had. In his anticipation and through his imagination he could feel the cold swirling bullet passing through his brain. He looked back behind his shoulders and was surprised by how close Kara and Maggie were.
As they made their way across the open expanse, a previously invisible, long plank became apparent—its length stretching across part of the chasm. The plank arched tenuously downward as Styles reached the end of it. Ember watched as Styles, and then Luna, climbed down into some unseen platform.
Ember sprinted across the plank and jumped into the rowboat-like platform a few feet below. He popped his head above the plank and held out his arms to catch Kara who wasn’t far behind. Even with his adrenalin pumping, Ember was taken aback by the cold, animalistic instinct in Kara’s eyes, which, as foreign as they seemed, were still breathtaking. Styles helped Maggie , as Ember put Kara down in the platform.
A large bang, followed by a rapid clicking noise came, and for a while it appeared as though Sven might not make it. Sure enough, however, he came lumbering down the plank. As Sven crashed into the platform, Maggie shot up out of her seat and nearly fell into the chasm below. Styles pulled her back to safety with one hand and then immediately and frantically started pulling on the rope as fast as he could, hand over hand.
The platform descended rapidly into the chasm and soon all was dark.
Chapter 21: The Abyss
The darkness was suffocating. Though they were sitting on the ground next to each other, they felt completely isolated and alone. Even the sounds of their heavy breaths seemed to be weighed down by the intolerable blackness and drowned out by surrounding roar of silence.
“Where are we?” Maggie asked in a panic, feeling ironically claustrophobic.
“The Abyss,” Sven replied, still trying to catch his breath.
Kara brought her knees to her face, and placed her hand on her knees, in a futile attempt to anchor and orient herself in this lightless world. “Are we safe?”
“They won’t follow us here,” Styles informed viciously.
“Who were those people?” Ember asked.
“I think you know that answer.”
“The Police?” Styles, did not answer.
“What are we going to do now?” Luna inquired.
Styles slammed his fist on the rocky ground. “We wait for our eyes to adjust.”
In an attempt to relax, Ember breathed in heavily, brought his hands behind his head, and reclined in a supine position among the rocks with one knee bent. He opened and closed his eyes intermittently but his inability to discriminate between the two sights brought him increasing unrest.
“What happened exactly?!” Maggie shouted, as if the volume of her exclamation might spare them from the insufferable void.
“Shh!” Styles rebuked. “Keep your voice down.”
“Oh, right,” she said, checking herself. “What exactly happened?” she repeated more quietly. Because of the consuming darkness, Maggie had a much lower tolerance for delayed responses than usual. Each passing moment without recognition seemed to defy her very existence and therefore, although little time had actually passed, Maggie became irritated. Frustrated with her equal inability to express herself though facial expressions and hand gestures, she swung her arms around in hopes of making contact with someone else. Upon failing at this, she got down on her hands and knees and tentatively crawled around until her hand at last came in contact with something human, Ember’s still swollen face.
“Ouch!”
“Hello? Who is that? Ember?!”
“Ya… Hello,” he said, a little bit annoyed by her hasty panic.
“Who’s next to you? Kara, is that you?”
“I’m over here,” she called out.
Maggie crawled in the direction of the voice though she was uncertain from where it came. “Kara, is that you?” she asked, bumping into another figure.
“Will you cut it out!” Styles snapped. “I think you have done enough today.”
“I’m so sorry… I was just trying to do the right thing.”
“‘Don’t tell people about the plant,’ it’s the one thing I told you all not to do. What were you thinking?!”
“But you said you couldn’t care less what we… I… don’t know… I was just trying to help people… If it makes you feel any better, I feel really, really, small right now.” Maggie did feel really, really small. In a way, she was glad that it was dark because all she really wanted was to disappear and be forgotten. Though her tears went unseen, her whimpers were all too clear against the silence.
“It’s okay,” Ember reassured, devastated to hear his usually jovial sister so defeated.
“Not really,” Styles retorted promptly. “Because of her the entirety of the Underground may have lost its one chance at liberation.”
“I know… I’m sorry… What was I supposed to do?” she cried out.
“So they have taken the plant?” Sven asked for clarification.
Styles slammed his fist once more on the rocks. “Yes they took the plant! Isn’t that obvious!”
“But did you complete the sequence? Is it saved anywhere?”
“The sequence was completed but we were in the middle of transferring the code to a portable drive when they came. They took the laptop, they took the plant, they took everything! Wait to go, Maggie, you just cost us the mission.”
“Okay… okay… I said I was sorry!”
“We were lucky to get out of there alive,” Luna added.
“You know,” Ember said, trying to defend his sister, “It’s not all her fault. You should have planted back-ups. Why would you leave everything in one place?”
“I did plant back-ups… they found them all… we checked.”
“Then you should have left a few seeds!”
“I did… but they are of no use to us now. The Buffer Zone will be swarming with Police for the next month. They are surly re-installing sensors and spraying eve
rywhere with specialized pesticides. Even if we were able to go back up and recover the seeds, the plant probably wouldn’t grow considering the chemicals they are pumping into the air. Surprise was the one element we had going for us… and you took it away… We may never get the chance to sequence it again.”
“I’m so—” Maggie began.
“Do you still have that dagger,” Styles asked her.
“Ya, why?”
“With you, right now?”
“Yes.”
“Good, at least you did that much. The handle is hollow. I hid some seeds inside of it.”
“What? Really?! So we can re-plant it?”
“Perhaps,” he admitted, “but not here. The plant will never grow here.”
Kara and Sven did not know how to react. The darkness seemed to dull their minds, preventing them from conceiving the full ramifications of Maggie’s actions, and ironically sparing them from despair. Having possibly just lost their one chance to free the Underground, both Kara and Sven, had they been thinking clearly, would have fallen into a deep depression. Instead, Kara asked, “How long will we stay here?” Styles didn’t respond.
“If there is one silver lining,” Ember said, trying to be optimistic, “it’s that we now know for sure that the sequence is the code to the Gate. I mean, why else would they go through such an effort to destroy it? That’s worth something, right?”
“Who was it?” Styles asked, ignoring Ember’s comment.
Kara knew exactly who Styles was referring to and answered, “It was Daryl.”
“Daryl,” he repeated, as if savoring the phonology. “I should have known.”
“We can’t stay here forever,” Kara said, hoping that her answer earned a response from Styles.
“We will explore soon enough,” he said.
“Explore what? This is the Abyss, not candy land!” Sven exclaimed huffily.
“There is a city around here somewhere,” Styles explained, “we just need to find it.”
Revolution in the Underground Page 26
